Chapter 4: Sold My Soul To The Devil
Title : Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken
Author : lynlyn
Yahoo ID and email : cloud121383
Warnings : The main pairing here is Kurapika / Kuroro (slash, yaoi, whatever it is you call m/m relationships) and if you don't like, then don't read! But I'll try to focus as much as possible on the plot and character development, and the rating probably won't go any higher than light snogging. Ah, by the way, some knowledge of the HxH world is required, and this fic takes up right after Kuroro's caught by Kurapika in the hotel.
Summary : And next we have Killua's POV as he watches Kurapika throw away his freedom for the sake of theirs. Kuroro sets his plans into motion, while Kurapika uses his last resort to escape from the shadows of his past.
Rating : PG-13 for adult themes and some swearing, and a teeny bit of violence (well, it's been stepped up a bit in this chapter, but no big deal for you guys)
Disclaimer : I do not own Hunter X Hunter, its characters, or anything associated with it. I'm not writing this for profit; I'm only doing so for personal satisfaction, plus the fact that I want to try my hand at writing semi-professionally. Any resemblance of the characters or the story itself to actual people and situations is entirely unintentional and accidental. Please don't sue – I'm only a college student.
A/N : Projects. The bane of an IT student's life. Somebody shoot me.
WILD HEARTS CAN'T BE BROKEN
Chapter 4 – Sold My Soul To The Devil
Killua Zaoldyeck hated feeling helpless – that crawling, frustrating feeling of not being able to do anything as events spiraled out of his control. He always felt like he was being tossed this way and that, the winds of chance and misfortune spinning him around and around, not giving him any opportunity to grab or scrabble for a foothold on anything solid. That was why he used to avoid getting involved in situations where there was a possibility of his control being wrestled from him.
You've been doing a very poor job of it lately, his inner voice remarked.
No shit.
First there was that incident during the Hunter exam where Hanzo broke Gon's arm to try to force him to yield; then right after when he faced the knobby-faced Frankenstein-y guy, actually his brother in disguise, resulting in that resigned, can't-do-anything-about-it feeling when he was forced to go back home with the premise of never seeing his friends again hanging over his head.
Between the hunter exam and the current York Shin fiasco was their encounter with the fox bear hunters. He had been so sure then that Konta's child was going to die. It was just his luck (and the little fox bear's) that Gon was so stubborn, and had an equally stubborn woman for an aunt.
Big failure number four happened just recently, when they were first captured by the Geneiryodan. He and Gon had taken on the bounty-hunting job fully aware that their targets were no mere foes, all several times more powerful than they were. Killua, with his past experiences with pain and mortality, had a fuller grasp of the danger they had been in, as compared to the innocent, lighter-hearted Gon. Of course there was that fear of death – but he'd acted all calm and collected, not showing any sign of weakness or fear to the enemy, until that samurai decided to arm-wrestle with a boy half his size. That time, with Gon pinned to the table by one of the more cruel-looking members, and him unable to move in defense of his friend, paralyzed by Hisoka's overwhelming aura, was one of his most horrifying experiences to date. It resulted in him nearly throwing his life away just so Gon could escape, the willing decoy to draw that persistent samurai's attention while his friend slipped away. Again, Gon's stubbornness was the only thing that had stood between him and death.
It would take someone really stupid not to realize that all his recent shows of actual human emotion was a direct result of having friends to care for and worry about. Irumi was right, from an assassin's point of view. His friends could be considered burdens. They had awakened in him dormant feelings of camaraderie and caring, both hindrances to someone who used to make a living by killing.
Killua knew better, though, else he wouldn't be here in the first place.
But – damn whatever fates had decided to put them in this situation! He couldn't move, couldn't even shout in frustration, and he'd be dead if he so much as twitched. Gon, to his right, shared a similar fate; only it was that perverted Hisoka who restrained the younger boy. And the tension in the room was incredible! He could feel the anger and the menacing waves of nen radiating from every Geneiryodan in the room. It was worse than the times Irumi subjected him to his Ren-enhanced tauntings, and right now the hostile aura wasn't even directed at him or Gon!
Kurapika…
Yes, the mother of all failures, currently staring him in the face. Kurapika had woken up barely a minute ago, and was now being forced to choose between attacking, which would mean the gang leader's death, the probable disbanding of the Geneiryodan, and certain death for all three of them; or surrendering, which would mean being defeated by his mortal enemies, also death – most likely painful – at their hands, and the slight chance that the Geneiryodan would be merciful enough to let Gon and Killua go.
Kurapika you idiot! Why the hell did you stop?
This was the weakness Irumi had told him about. Friends were burdens, and could be used against you in a fight. Kurapika had been doing fine until Hisoka made Gon cry out in pain. The blond's sudden attack had surprised all of them, even the formidable Geneiryodan members. He could have taken the leader out by now if he hadn't stopped.
But… aren't you glad, that he had stopped? Otherwise you'd be dead by now –
Killua ruthlessly quashed that thought before it could turn into something more tangible than just a mutinous idea. Kurapika was his friend! He shouldn't think like that! The Geneiryodan would surely kill him if he turned himself over to them!
... Some Zaoldyeck he was. Even if he didn't die here, his father would kill him if the Zaoldyeck patriarch found out that his son had gotten himself captured and used as a hostage.
His father… escaping would have been a cinch for his father. Heck, Silva Zaoldyeck could probably take on all twelve members with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back! Or Irumi, for that matter – Killua loathed to admit it, but his elder brother wouldn't have had difficulty escaping, either, if the blank-faced assassin were in his place.
…
Who was he kidding?! Both elder Zaoldyecks wouldn't have allowed themselves to be placed in such a humiliating situation in the first place!
Enough! Now is not the time for self-pity… Kurapika… Kurapika's… he's not going to give up… is he?
The next few seconds found Killua staring in growing horror as Kurapika's nen – which moments before had been blazing at par with the frightening auras enveloping the room – slowly dwindled and tapered off, like a gushing faucet being cut off; and finally, the flow completely stopping, making the nen wielder vulnerable to any kind of attack.
"Good," The Geneiryodan head said quietly. He then called the woman who had the ability to read memories.
Zetsu… why… he's really… surrendering? No… Kurapika… Don't!
Of course, the other boy couldn't hear him, unless Killua suddenly developed telepathic powers on the spot, so he could only watch helplessly, railing mentally in vain as Kurapika stood stock-still, the very picture of submission, not even making an effort to stop Pakunoda from obtaining his memories.
This was so unlike the Kurapika Killua had come to know. Kurapika's hatred for the Geneiryodan ran so deep, his anger at his clan's murderers so unfathomable, that he'd go berserk when seeing or hearing anything related to the group, be it a real spider or even the name itself. The old Kurapika wouldn't have given up as easily as this… and as far as goals in life went, Killua knew that the blond lived solely for the purpose of bringing his clan's killers to justice.
The only thing that would make him choose something over that goal… is his friends. Gon and Killua's safety over his own.
Damn it.
The woman stepped away after a couple of minutes, and she and the leader went into the small room the latter had pointed out before Kurapika interrupted them. If he weren't so distracted Killua would have tried to find out what they were going to do, what the gun Pakunoda was fingering earlier was for, but as it was, he had more weighing matters to think about. Nor did he notice that Hisoka had removed the card from Gon's neck, and that the other boy was free to do anything except brash and threatening actions, so he could only jump in surprise when Gon suddenly yelled.
"Kurapika!"
He wasn't the only one who was startled, though. Killua saw Kurapika stiffen visibly, his previously slumped posture tensing into a coiled spring.
"Kurapika, you're bleeding!"
Trust his innocent, single-minded companion to point out the obvious. The wound was nothing compared to what the Geneiryodan were really capable of doing. Still, it couldn't be left unattended to. The cut was deep, the coppery smell of blood unmistakable from where Killua stood. The red fluid had all but dyed Kurapikas's left sleeve crimson – not even a patch of pink was left. He could also tell by the way his friend's arm hung limply, the fingers unmoving and stiff, that Kurapika had no control over his left arm anymore. The muscles have been severed – the samurai's blade had actually penetrated through the bone. A few more centimeters and the whole limb would have come off.
"Hmm… This small scratch?"
Uh oh. It was the sadistic little creep who had restrained Gon, the one who kept on expressing his desire to kill them on the spot. He had cruel eyes, and a slow drawl, which made Killu
Chapter 4: Sold My Soul To The Devil
Title : Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken
Author : lynlyn
Yahoo ID and email : cloud121383
Warnings : The main pairing here is Kurapika / Kuroro (slash, yaoi, whatever it is you call m/m relationships) and if you don't like, then don't read! But I'll try to focus as much as possible on the plot and character development, and the rating probably won't go any higher than light snogging. Ah, by the way, some knowledge of the HxH world is required, and this fic takes up right after Kuroro's caught by Kurapika in the hotel.
Summary : And next we have Killua's POV as he watches Kurapika throw away his freedom for the sake of theirs. Kuroro sets his plans into motion, while Kurapika uses his last resort to escape from the shadows of his past.
Rating : PG-13 for adult themes and some swearing, and a teeny bit of violence (well, it's been stepped up a bit in this chapter, but no big deal for you guys)
Disclaimer : I do not own Hunter X Hunter, its characters, or anything associated with it. I'm not writing this for profit; I'm only doing so for personal satisfaction, plus the fact that I want to try my hand at writing semi-professionally. Any resemblance of the characters or the story itself to actual people and situations is entirely unintentional and accidental. Please don't sue – I'm only a college student.
A/N : Projects. The bane of an IT student's life. Somebody shoot me.
WILD HEARTS CAN'T BE BROKEN
Chapter 4 – Sold My Soul To The Devil
Killua Zaoldyeck hated feeling helpless – that crawling, frustrating feeling of not being able to do anything as events spiraled out of his control. He always felt like he was being tossed this way and that, the winds of chance and misfortune spinning him around and around, not giving him any opportunity to grab or scrabble for a foothold on anything solid. That was why he used to avoid getting involved in situations where there was a possibility of his control being wrestled from him.
You've been doing a very poor job of it lately, his inner voice remarked.
No shit.
First there was that incident during the Hunter exam where Hanzo broke Gon's arm to try to force him to yield; then right after when he faced the knobby-faced Frankenstein-y guy, actually his brother in disguise, resulting in that resigned, can't-do-anything-about-it feeling when he was forced to go back home with the premise of never seeing his friends again hanging over his head.
Between the hunter exam and the current York Shin fiasco was their encounter with the fox bear hunters. He had been so sure then that Konta's child was going to die. It was just his luck (and the little fox bear's) that Gon was so stubborn, and had an equally stubborn woman for an aunt.
Big failure number four happened just recently, when they were first captured by the Geneiryodan. He and Gon had taken on the bounty-hunting job fully aware that their targets were no mere foes, all several times more powerful than they were. Killua, with his past experiences with pain and mortality, had a fuller grasp of the danger they had been in, as compared to the innocent, lighter-hearted Gon. Of course there was that fear of death – but he'd acted all calm and collected, not showing any sign of weakness or fear to the enemy, until that samurai decided to arm-wrestle with a boy half his size. That time, with Gon pinned to the table by one of the more cruel-looking members, and him unable to move in defense of his friend, paralyzed by Hisoka's overwhelming aura, was one of his most horrifying experiences to date. It resulted in him nearly throwing his life away just so Gon could escape, the willing decoy to draw that persistent samurai's attention while his friend slipped away. Again, Gon's stubbornness was the only thing that had stood between him and death.
It would take someone really stupid not to realize that all his recent shows of actual human emotion was a direct result of having friends to care for and worry about. Irumi was right, from an assassin's point of view. His friends could be considered burdens. They had awakened in him dormant feelings of camaraderie and caring, both hindrances to someone who used to make a living by killing.
Killua knew better, though, else he wouldn't be here in the first place.
But – damn whatever fates had decided to put them in this situation! He couldn't move, couldn't even shout in frustration, and he'd be dead if he so much as twitched. Gon, to his right, shared a similar fate; only it was that perverted Hisoka who restrained the younger boy. And the tension in the room was incredible! He could feel the anger and the menacing waves of nen radiating from every Geneiryodan in the room. It was worse than the times Irumi subjected him to his Ren-enhanced tauntings, and right now the hostile aura wasn't even directed at him or Gon!
Kurapika…
Yes, the mother of all failures, currently staring him in the face. Kurapika had woken up barely a minute ago, and was now being forced to choose between attacking, which would mean the gang leader's death, the probable disbanding of the Geneiryodan, and certain death for all three of them; or surrendering, which would mean being defeated by his mortal enemies, also death – most likely painful – at their hands, and the slight chance that the Geneiryodan would be merciful enough to let Gon and Killua go.
Kurapika you idiot! Why the hell did you stop?
This was the weakness Irumi had told him about. Friends were burdens, and could be used against you in a fight. Kurapika had been doing fine until Hisoka made Gon cry out in pain. The blond's sudden attack had surprised all of them, even the formidable Geneiryodan members. He could have taken the leader out by now if he hadn't stopped.
But… aren't you glad, that he had stopped? Otherwise you'd be dead by now –
Killua ruthlessly quashed that thought before it could turn into something more tangible than just a mutinous idea. Kurapika was his friend! He shouldn't think like that! The Geneiryodan would surely kill him if he turned himself over to them!
... Some Zaoldyeck he was. Even if he didn't die here, his father would kill him if the Zaoldyeck patriarch found out that his son had gotten himself captured and used as a hostage.
His father… escaping would have been a cinch for his father. Heck, Silva Zaoldyeck could probably take on all twelve members with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back! Or Irumi, for that matter – Killua loathed to admit it, but his elder brother wouldn't have had difficulty escaping, either, if the blank-faced assassin were in his place.
…
Who was he kidding?! Both elder Zaoldyecks wouldn't have allowed themselves to be placed in such a humiliating situation in the first place!
Enough! Now is not the time for self-pity… Kurapika… Kurapika's… he's not going to give up… is he?
The next few seconds found Killua staring in growing horror as Kurapika's nen – which moments before had been blazing at par with the frightening auras enveloping the room – slowly dwindled and tapered off, like a gushing faucet being cut off; and finally, the flow completely stopping, making the nen wielder vulnerable to any kind of attack.
"Good," The Geneiryodan head said quietly. He then called the woman who had the ability to read memories.
Zetsu… why… he's really… surrendering? No… Kurapika… Don't!
Of course, the other boy couldn't hear him, unless Killua suddenly developed telepathic powers on the spot, so he could only watch helplessly, railing mentally in vain as Kurapika stood stock-still, the very picture of submission, not even making an effort to stop Pakunoda from obtaining his memories.
This was so unlike the Kurapika Killua had come to know. Kurapika's hatred for the Geneiryodan ran so deep, his anger at his clan's murderers so unfathomable, that he'd go berserk when seeing or hearing anything related to the group, be it a real spider or even the name itself. The old Kurapika wouldn't have given up as easily as this… and as far as goals in life went, Killua knew that the blond lived solely for the purpose of bringing his clan's killers to justice.
The only thing that would make him choose something over that goal… is his friends. Gon and Killua's safety over his own.
Damn it.
The woman stepped away after a couple of minutes, and she and the leader went into the small room the latter had pointed out before Kurapika interrupted them. If he weren't so distracted Killua would have tried to find out what they were going to do, what the gun Pakunoda was fingering earlier was for, but as it was, he had more weighing matters to think about. Nor did he notice that Hisoka had removed the card from Gon's neck, and that the other boy was free to do anything except brash and threatening actions, so he could only jump in surprise when Gon suddenly yelled.
"Kurapika!"
He wasn't the only one who was startled, though. Killua saw Kurapika stiffen visibly, his previously slumped posture tensing into a coiled spring.
"Kurapika, you're bleeding!"
Trust his innocent, single-minded companion to point out the obvious. The wound was nothing compared to what the Geneiryodan were really capable of doing. Still, it couldn't be left unattended to. The cut was deep, the coppery smell of blood unmistakable from where Killua stood. The red fluid had all but dyed Kurapikas's left sleeve crimson – not even a patch of pink was left. He could also tell by the way his friend's arm hung limply, the fingers unmoving and stiff, that Kurapika had no control over his left arm anymore. The muscles have been severed – the samurai's blade had actually penetrated through the bone. A few more centimeters and the whole limb would have come off.
"Hmm… This small scratch?"
Uh oh. It was the sadistic little creep who had restrained Gon, the one who kept on expressing his desire to kill them on the spot. He had cruel eyes, and a slow drawl, which made Killu
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