Walking down the hallway, Friday gave Maha a sideways glance. Until this very day, Friday still couldn't figure out what the old man was thinking and probably never will. Things he can't understand nor control bothers him. So, even now, he can't bring himself to trust Maha 100%. It doesn't help that there was little to no information about him in the Fandom Wikipedia.
All Friday knew that the old geezer was willing to help him in his plans for reasons unknown. Perhaps the old man was just so bored that he's amusing himself watching Friday's entertaining actions. It doesn't matter though, Maha is very useful to him at the moment.
The old man sensed the boy's stare and shook his head. "Milky, trust is important in every relationship. If there's no trust, the relationship doesn't last long."
"...Don't read my thoughts, you crazy old geezer." Friday placed his hands on his pockets. "Did Papa finally agree?"
Maha raised his fist, "This crazy old geezer still has power in his muscles to make Zenny bow down on his knees. So of course, little Silvy had to agree to what I say!"
---
Four weeks later.
"Why do you look annoyed, Mil?"
Friday stopped looking out the blimp window and turned to face an emotionless ten-year-old boy. There's still some baby fat on the boy's face, but it doesn't hide his growing handsomeness.
Friday smiled at Illumi, "It's nothing. I'm just annoyed at how slow blimps are. It's been three weeks, Illumi!" He sighed and slumped back into the red velvet couch, contemplating why there are no airplanes in Hunter X Hunter. They could've been in Heaven's Arena by now!
"We'll be there in a couple more hours," Illumi stated while his eyes were still fixed at his brother.
"What is it?" Friday asked when he noticed Illumi's burning gaze. He also sat up and looked at the boy in confusion.
"...I thought you'd tell me the reason by now, Mil...Why do you want to go there? I've heard you made Grandpa Maha force Dad let you go." Illumi finally asked the question he's been wondering since they left.
"Oh, that." Friday shrugged. "Nothing special. I didn't think I needed to tell you." In front of Silva, Zeno, Kikyo, and the servants, Friday wears a mask. To them, Milluki is a lovable naughty brat. In front of Maha, Friday puts up his guard, but he doesn't wear his mask. In front of Illumi, however, he put both his guard and mask down.
Friday stood up from his seat to walk around the luxurious private room to stretch his legs. The room was the same as a five-star hotel room, it has great lighting, comfy couches, and a bed, a private bathroom with a bathtub, and great decor.
I guess compared to riding airplanes, blimps are more comfortable.
After continuously hugging Silva's golden thigh, Friday successfully turned one of the deadliest assassins into a doting father. The same could be said for Zeno. Before they left the mansion, Silva ordered the servants following them to give his sons the best treatment. Which explains the current setting.
Sitting on the couch, Illumi silently watched his little brother walk around the room.
Feeling the stare on his back making him tremble, Friday couldn't take it anymore. He turned around and gave the brat a wry smile,"...Illumi... I'm assuming you want me to elaborate more on my answer?"
Illumi nodded his head.
"Fine then." Friday strode up to Illumi, sat next to him, and asked him a question. "How much allowance do you get?"
"...A few hundred million per target?" Illumi tilted his head in confusion, his short hair following the movement.
"Yep, and how much allowance do I get?" Friday smiled.
"...You haven't killed any targets. So none. Mother also forbids Father from giving you an allowance."
"Exactly." Friday nodded and raised his hand to pat Illumi's head. Due to the height gap, Illumi had to bend a little for his brother to pat his head. "Your little brother is so f*cking poor, Illumi. So, he has to get a job to get some money~." Friday wept, the words out his mouth were words a five-year-old shouldn't say.
After what happened two years ago, Illumi became aware that his little brother was a bit special. He doesn't act like his age, sometimes he'll go on a cursing spree like a middle-aged man. And he pretends to be someone else in front of everyone. After knowing this, it shattered Illumi's impression of his brother being an angel.
Thinking, Illumi unconsciously grabbed the hand that's still patting his head and cupped it with both hands. Noticing how small and weak his brother's hand was, yet powerful enough to save him that day. His impression of his brother became more than that of an angel.
Wanting to help his brother, Illumi offered Friday his money.
Illumi saw his brother frown when he heard his words. "No, thanks. I prefer to make my own money. Your brother is strong, even though he's poor, he will never ask anyone for money!" Friday used his other hand to squeeze Illumi's soft cheek. "Illumi, I told you to smile more."
"Ok." Illumi raised his lips.
"...Your eyes should smile too."
"Ok."
Looking at Illumi trying hard to smile, Friday couldn't help but laugh. "That's alright. Practice makes perfect."
Author's Note:
Friday: Illumi, smile!
Illumi: Ok.
Friday: Your eyes too!
Illumi: Ok
Friday: ... Practice makes perfect!