ᴠᴏʟᴛᴀɪᴄ.

👁 👄 👁

there was truly no such a thing like a civilized reunion, she would not even dare to hope for that fantasy. Not visible but a vein is definitely in its place, poping up with heat and is barely the start of the conversation. She’s no racle but she can see her fist clenched and ready to swing in the near future, soon. 

“ HA ?! YOU’RE the one that keeps giving me looks ! Oh well i should not be surprised you quickly shift the focus away from your obvious fascination with a beautiful young lady such as myself ” it was the usual amateur move she’s used to from this wild boar. He didn’t change at all that’s comforting.

ϟ . “I WAS NOT GIVING YOU LOOKS!” He balks at inhuman levels. That signature crack in his voice -- he is the picture of maturity! And with her at his side, these two were wisdom incarnate!!!

Yeah... AS IF!

Whatever speed the projectile had been hurled in, it was bound to nestle itself into the skull of anyone who stood on its way as it whirred through the air like a deadly arrow, very obviously having been carelessly thrown by one of potential strength.

Flipping another page of his book, it took the spider a single motion to trap the bullet in between his index and ring finger, the impending force of such high-speed cannonball being halted by a pair of digits alone rustling the leaves of the undergrowth behind him. The sensation of the blunt object, as well as the tracker latched to its back, bringing back all sorts of memories from the time he, too, applied for the Hunter Exam.

…99, huh?

Having lost his own tag with little attachment to keep it on his person, the Spider couldn’t even recall his own number anymore. 

“Is this yours?” The lone man asked to the shadows like a madman, quietly admiring his little stalker’s ability to make no sound and conceal themselves in one such way Chrollo could only conclude there had been somebody behind him due to a minimal, almost imperceptible tinge of bloodlust most likely discernible as a result of kind of emotional instability, like a leakage trickling down a tiny crack.

ϟ . “...!?”

With voice like steady waters -- no, no, water was too lively. This was more like... the calmness of void. If such a comparison even made sense. It was enough to put a hitch in the boy’s soundless step -- one that reasonably shouldn’t have alerted the other, yet they still called to him...! They still called! Before even laying eyes upon him! 

And revealing that damned tag he sent zipping through the darkness -- something that would have taken anyone’s fingers clean off. Yet there it was. In one unscathed grasp. This alone was enough to raise the boy’s anxiety. 

“So what if it is...?” The dying plea of an arrogant boy’s flame -- but a weak waning fire... what gives? There was nothing special about this unassuming stranger? What was one man to a Zoldyck? What was one man to the determined heir??? He reiterates this, mentally, as though it means anything to him. As though it were something to be proud of. As though he weren’t sent home with his tail between his legs... None were true. 

ϟ . This prompts significant startle from him -- caution ever so slightly lowered when he stomps his foot and balks: “What!? No! No way!” Controlled or not, in the end he was still a child, and one who couldn’t stand to lose at that... “I’ve been looking all over town for a limited edition early-fall release... I don’t care who you are or who you run with, there’s no way I’m giving it up-- 

ϟ . “And you live to tell the tale. Bummer.”

Not that he expected his father to risk a scuffle with a spider -- if his constant warnings were any indication -- but pettiness drips like venom from this unruly child. Purely an instinctual response...

ϟ . “Hmph.” With hands hoarded away in his pockets and the repetitious glances sent her way, it seemed that he had something on his mind -- something important -- but after all this time away, the choice words to leave his lips were:

“What’re you looking at PIGLET? Someone leave your pigpen open???”

ϟ . Two hands clasp over her eyes from behind -- one small boy can manage as much when the woman lacked any disparity when it came to their height! Anyone would pale to be in such a position with a Zoldyck, but to Shao -- an old friend -- there was nothing to fear... right?

ϟ . Outcast skies, to reflect bleary eyes... the boy wanders the earth like a phantom would. Soundless steps and a hollow gaze, too small to catch the eyes of those he brushes past and too big to cause for concern -- and like a true specter he is condemned from the world, always to look, but never to touch. 

He’s digging into his pockets, fishing out that ticket that would take him on the first boat to Padokea -- back to home -- but fingertips brush against something blunt... curved. Killua frees the item from his shorts, revealing to him two blaring numbers. 99.

“. . .”

This tag... why was he still lugging it around? It wasn’t even needed during the last phase. Looking at it made him sick to his stomach. And those nines... like the eyes of an overbearing brother -- boring into his soul. Reminding him of failures -- no, a puppet cannot even fail. They only ever do as instructed. The tag represents futility. 

In a childish fit he sends the thing flying down the nearest alleyway with all of his strength -- while expecting the sound of ,perhaps, shattering, he does not expect shuffling. Footsteps. In his final act of unrest does he follow its path, footsteps of an assassin -- estinto -- no one would know he was coming... maybe there was still time to take his anger out on something...

????????

nerd