Speak of the Devil // COMPLETED ✔

Gon's Specialty Is Being Baby (And Also Maybe Getting High And Getting Wasted)

Summary: Hisoka is on babysitter duty and Gon is nOT happy about it

They restricted training to just chess and more menial boardgames like cards. Hisoka wasn't interested in chess as he was gambling, and it was Killua's fatal flaw to always compete against him with the objective never to lose . It certainly didn't help that Hisoka kept letting him win under the guise of being bored. It haunted Killua throughout the afternoon and evening and Grandfather's house.

Hisoka didn't view Killua as a worthy opponent. In fact, Killua suspected he thought Gon was a better opponent than Killua was, and Gon wasn't even good at gambling.

"You won't help him get better by throwing every match," Killua retaliated at last, throwing his cards down in frustration.

Chrollo spared a glance up from his book. He and Killua's grandfather were at the reading chairs reading City of God and other texts on moral determinism. He only ever moved at the distant sound of Illumi throwing up, or to prepare a fresh cocktail for Illumi to drink.

"Clearly, my aim is not to help him win. Though I do think he's getting the hang of it," Hisoka said. It was true. Gon knew all the pieces by name and value, and had started to guard his main players well. This awareness put him on the defensive, though.

"Thank you, Hisoka. I'm touched," Gon said, and then with added venom and vigor: "I'll play until you actually defeat me!"

Killua stared at them both in mild horror. He withered under the pressure a little, because what would it take for Hisoka to take a game seriously?

"Go fish," Hisoka said in a seductive drawl.

Gon cried out in anguish and took a card from the pile.

Hisoka tiptoed around winning until at last relinquishing the suit Gon wanted, and they won. Killua suspected he'd had it all along.

Gon wanted to lose authentically, and Killua was determined to make that happen—

And then Hisoka stood up. "I'm going out," he announced, and tossed his cards down on the chess board they'd repurposed for cards. The sun was setting and the room was cast in a golden hue that turned Hisoka's pink shirt orange. He reached up, stretched, and side-stepped Killua's chair.

"Is that really such a good idea?" his grandfather said, and gave a droll stare when Hisoka approached the back of his chair to lay a kiss on his hair. "I'd appreciate if you didn't do that."

Hisoka gave his cheek a pat, and then moved on to Chrollo. He leaned over the backrest, hands on the armrests beside Chrollo's elbows, and squinted at the pages. "Aw, you're doing research for our dear Gon. How precious."

"Don't tempt anyone to commit heinous crimes that end up in the Sunday paper," Chrollo chided, absently, as he flipped the page. His face scrunched when Hisoka kissed his head and patted his cheek in passing.

Killua breathed a sigh of relief when Hisoka merely waved to them, but Gon was furious. "Get back here and win like you mean it!"

"Bye bye," Hisoka sang out the door and out of view.

"Do you really think he'll be in the paper tomorrow?" Killua asked, turning to Chrollo.

"It's possible. He doesn't enjoy the attention, but he doesn't avoid it," he replied. He looked up from the page and viewed Killua with renewed interest. "Is it the fact that you're lucid now that you're speaking with me?"

"I found that peculiar as well," his grandfather said, closing his book. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess," Killua said. He'd feel better if Hisoka came back here so Killua could hold Gon's hand while they played. He glanced at Gon—for what, he wasn't sure, but he found encouragement there in Gon's hopeful smile. "Was I... not speaking to Chrollo before?"