#salty there's no squala x eliza tag or even an eliza tag

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Alone Together, Under an Umbrella

Summary: Squala and Eliza have a bad habit of facing their problems on their own. 

It’s a useless endeavour, since they end up finding each other anyway. 

WC: 2,852. Canon-Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Umbrella Sharing, Misunderstandings, Racism (only a mention but it's there)

For 2023’s HxH Rare Pair Big Bang! Thank you, Greed Island buddies - especially my artist. I'm so excited to see the finished piece! Might cross-post on my AO3 (24HoursRemain) come the big reveal.

Edit: I have indeed reposted on AO3! Polished up a bit, linked to extrat's finished piece.

This is a little Squala and Eliza piece, fluff + angst. Their relationship is soft and sweet, but HxH's world sure as heck isn't :'(

Never work with children or animals, the saying goes. 

If they ended up doing something else, perhaps they would have more breaks. Instead, they kept at it, remaining  far too attached to the little people they cared for.

Rebellious and bratty and (in the case of his dogs) prone to biting as they were, they deserved protecting. Squala knew it was a shared weakness, the need to cuddle and care for things no matter their character. No wonder they hit it off, having found comfort in a city alive with monsters. 

He recalled their first encounter in a rented apartment. Was it still up, standing strong? Probably not. All the more reason to invest in something more long-term. The dogs could move in with them - that is, if the shedding was no problem. 

"I know, Eliza. If this job works out... Yeah, don't worry. I can take care of you along with all of the dogs. Just bear with me a little longer..."   

Their conversation ended up short, as most of their talks during work hours did. Today, Squala is the one who is late calling. 

He had a dog emergency. One particular Maltese had left him a gift. A long-digested, unrecognisable gift that he only discovered ten minutes before the meeting. Conveniently, it lay in sight of the manor's front door, owned by his employer, for any other hired help to report. He chose his dumping spot well. 

Piper was a troublemaker, named so by Eliza for 'stealing her love away'. She wasn't in the slightest bit serious, both of them giggling at the cliché,  but the comment rang true. The little guy was a pain, clingy as hell and overly attached to Squala in particular , though one that they both had a soft spot for. He didn't have the heart to manipulate this dog to hold intruders in place for a devouring. 

All that being said, he couldn't keep Squala here forever with a well-plotted 'accident'. Eliza was patient with his pups' antics. Dalzollene was not. 

It would have to wait until later. He could deal with another dog complaint, but the ramifications for being late were dire. 

Squala mused about what life would be like, trapped in a painting. 

As long as it's here, where I can check up on her, things could be worse. Eliza better get a raise if that happens. 

. 

. 

.

Being trapped in a painting was a possibility in his world. 

Being trapped in the garden wasn't, or at least not by Nen. Nor was waking up in one, the last memory rattling in his brain an unwanted kiss. 

Today was one of those rare days he was called to do something besides odd jobs around the building and setting the dogs in position. He didn't expect to join his friends outside for so long, frightening them in a way so unlike their human, a puppet attached via Nen to some opportunistic rookie. 

She didn't remove his memories. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, Squala couldn't decide. He just wanted Piper to nibble on his arm again, without any fear.

What was particularly difficult wasn't the order to remove his Nen on the dogs. It made sense to remove a barrier to their escape, a barrier to being hired. They were determined. 

This lot wasn't about building upon wealth or reliant on a paycheck. None complained about sourcing items only obtainable by bribery, legitimate purchase or a very lucky kill. Whatever their separate goals were, they were just as desperate as those living in poverty. Squala did not hold grudges with the desperate, especially when he knew what it was like. 

However, what was difficult and a little hard to forget was the woman’s wording and, of course, the foot to the face. Maybe she didn't know the implication of her taking another person as a 'pet'. 

Eliza wouldn't be so charitable if she knew - that hand she was raising would go right into the Manipulator's face, alongside the other to-be bodyguards who stood by and watched. Squala wouldn't be adverse to joining in with Eliza by his side, if the newbies were not also likely future employees. Under their shared employer. 

The sun nearly rendered him blind. Reflecting off the glass, it overwhelmed the bitter taste of greenery and the hulking view of the mansion.  It was clear as it was in day. Smudged, lower than it should be. Was it nearly evening? Still, it was brighter than ever. 

All of a sudden, Squala noticed it for real. That was actually her hand raised, touching the window, parallel to his spot of carefully-cut grass . He didn't imagine it, in a hopeless daydream. She was real. She was here. As far as he was aware, she was constrained to the Nostrade girl's bedroom at all times. That was why he took the risk of taking the job. Still, he was glad to see her. 

And he was in trouble. 

The face she made at seeing him outside was startled, eyes vacant and eyebrows furrowed. Calm, gentle, compassionate Eliza - seeing her hurt stung the guard's heart. 

"Squala!" 

He was forcibly ripped from his thoughts by the usual culprit. 

"Gather up your dogs," Dalzollene said. "Meet me inside. We'll talk about the newest recruits." 

"Got it, leader. Anything else?" 

The man's eyes narrowed, a purposeful tap on his sword. "You'll find out soon enough." 

Squala hadn't been in this business for too long, but long enough to see a dangerous man's cues. Yes, he would be needed for longer. Most likely, for a reprimanding. 

There was never enough time. Not really. Even so, as a couple they'd sworn to make time whenever something came up. Eliza always kept her word : he would not betray her now. 

He'd just be running late, as he was this morning. 

. 

. 

. 

In hindsight, it wasn't that hard to put together what he should have done - told her where he was planning to pick up work. Especially since it was a place she knew, one bound to cause concern and worries for his well being. 

He wasn't looking forward to this conversation. Honestly, he was terrified. But it had to be done. Squala was no fool, having applied to the post knowing full well where she worked. His confidant, his best friend, the person he wanted to spend his life with? She deserved to know. 

A trip to the bakery couldn't solve this, but a talk would. Her favourite pastry would just help it along.

It wasn’t hard to find a standard bakery in each crevice of the city. This one, just off Continental, traded in more than just morning croissants, pies and dinner party cookies. 

Something that Eliza had admitted a craving for, especially after stressful situations. Given the nature of her job, it was something he’d seen her indulge in rather often. Not that he would point it out. She’d stop munching on them in his company and the sight was too adorable to give up. 

He saw the pastry in question : a cream puff. Bizarrely, there were postcards and water bottles and little plastic trinkets to be found by the till, as if waiting for an unsuspecting tourist to waste their Jenny. Not that it mattered : he found what he was looking for! 

It wasn’t long after he paid at the counter, purchase in hand, that he saw a very familiar face hard at work devouring a familiar pastry. Across from the counter, sitting at a table made for one, was Eliza. She had her hair tied back in a bun, her kimono slightly crumpled, and a look of concentration on her face as she focused on the task at hand. 

Approaching her quietly, he placed the cream puff in front of her. She looked up at him, with an exasperated smile, before quickly covering her face (as if it could hide the traces of pastry). Squala wondered if she was more surprised by him remembering her favourite bakery, accidentally running into her again, or by herself eating a crumbly, expensive desert unguarded in his presence. He would bet on the latter. 

“What’s this for?” she asked, unserious, taking the last bite of the pastry she had ordered.

“Just a little something to sweeten your day,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Though it looks like you beat me to it.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, eyes scanning his nervous face and rain-splattered clothing. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine. I need to tell you about what happened before.”

 “You’re not fine,” Eliza sighed, tugging on his arm as she stood up. “Yeah, we do need to talk.  But it’s getting late, we’re going to be kicked out, and I want to eat my second cream puff when we’re all tucked in at home.”

“Talk on the way back?”

“Mhm. Could you wait for me outside? I need to go… To the restroom.” 

. 

. 

.

“Thanks for the surprise. On days like this, a second one is nicer.” 

Squala sighed in relief. It was ridiculous and unrealistic, but some little part of him thought she would never return. She had pushed him  further into the storefront, shielding him from the rain, promising a quick return. Rain buffeted the concrete, acid pungent in the air, and with each passing moment he worried that something had happened. In the streets, in the bakery, at home, in the bathroom, he was worried for Eliza’s safety. 

“I was worried.” 

She knew. “You’re such an idiot.” 

Eliza had said it with such undisguised warmth, Squala couldn’t bear it. 

“I lied to you. I invaded your privacy. You’ve got to be upset.” 

There was a pregnant pause. As usual, Eliza was the first to break it. “You didn’t lie, but I’m sad you didn’t tell me where you work.”

“I’m so, so sorry. I know it’s dangerous, I know, no, I knew back then that I’d worry you,” Squala said, unaware his partner was shaking, desperate to reply. “But I was worried. I want a better life for us, and I’d feel selfish for letting you handle it on your own. I know you’re angry, I can-” 

“Will you stop that? I’m not angry!” she said, before recomposing herself at the sight of Squala with a recoiled posture, somewhere between terrified and confused. She took a deep breath. “I’m not angry at you.”

“What? But you were so angry when you saw me in the garden, doing god-knows-what. You didn’t want me there.” 

Now, it was Eliza’s turn to be confused. “Of course I didn’t! I was mad about them cooping you up in there. I wasn’t mad at you for being in the Nostrade’s manor - even though it was really silly to think you had to put yourself in this job for me, and selfish not to let me know.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Honestly, I should have seen it coming. I knew a bodyguard position was coming up, I just didn’t tell you. Not after…” 

“The painting?” 

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brow, growing frustrated. “I didn’t see the guy much, only on shopping trips where we needed security detail . Maybe he wasn’t great at his job, maybe he offended ‘big boss’ Dalzollene. Whatever he did, he didn’t deserve that.”

“No, he didn’t. Nobody does. But I do good work, and I know you personally care about the kid. And I’m careful, aren’t I? 

Eliza huffed, blushing in the cold. “You worry more than I do. That’s an achievement. You’re too kind… And I love that about you.” 

“Aww, shucks.” 

“But it doesn’t matter how careful you are. I know you’re cautious, and patient to a T. Still, they kept you cooped up in that garden for ages! It’s freezing! And you couldn’t have done anything terrible! Who knows what they’ll do next?”

Well, Squala thought. They didn’t coop me up there. But I don’t want you confronting her. 

“Little buddy Piper had an accident. I had to clean it up and cut the grass as punishment.” 

She was still seething. “Bodyguards are meant to protect people. You can’t protect anyone out in the cold. Why don’t they have you on the doors more often, or guarding the items? They could’ve shaved down on recruiting if they had you doing more security work.”

Squala thought similarly. It wasn’t like he didn’t know why : he had been told before. Too ‘unpresentable’. Whether they meant his hairstyle or his skin colour, he got the message by the tone. At the application stage, he was told his role was just as much as a footman as a bodyguard - an armed butler in all but salary. That was until he showed up for the interview. Still hired, doing all that was expected of him, but never assigned visitor-facing duty. Not, at least, without Dalzollene there. 

They’d found someone for visits, of course. An older, paler gent, probably plucked from elsewhere in Saherta, with cloudy eyes and a moving moustache. 

He was pelted unconscious with bullets this afternoon, by Nostrade’s other hired hand. It didn’t give Squala any joy to ‘put him away’ right before making the trip to the bakery. The orders were clear in that it couldn’t be out in the open or surrounded by greenery. What he did give him was a spot of sun, far away from the dog's mess. 

Only after pondering on just how expendable he himself might be, Squala set eyes on the person who had always valued him. Still ranting, like before. But now, she had a peculiar object in her hand. It was weaponised, cutting away the buffeting rain as Eliza wielded it with a vengeance.

“They - kept you - out there - for  hours!” 

Squala recognised it, as well as a hanging price tag.  “Eliza, what the heck are you using as a makeshift sword?” 

“It’s a katana, if you must know!” Eliza paused as she heard an undisguised giggle. “Fine, it’s an umbrella. This is yours.” 

So that was what she had acquired at the bakery. It must have been beside the till. All that time had been spent waiting in line, not crying in the bathroom! As Squala’s heart grew lighter, Eliza became all the redder. 

“Why didn’t you get one for yourself?” Squala asked, in his infinite wisdom. His smile was devious. 

Eliza puffed her cheeks. “You know why.” 

. 

. 

.

Walking home in the rain, the tension had dissipated near completely. The umbrella didn’t keep out every droplet. Still, it kept them close together. 

“What do you think about working for Miss Neon?” 

Squala shook his head. “You know as well as I do that her father’s behind everything.” 

“Yes, but on paper she’s our employer. What do you think of her?” 

"She's harmless enough. Can't blame her for Nostrade's actions. She doesn’t know what he gets up to and he keeps her dependent.  Might as well be a child,” Squala said. "She's selfish, spending her riches on body parts. Hoards them like little decorations - skulls on her shelves, decorated with hats and played with like toys." 

Eliza made a neutral sound, considering. “I think some of them are human.” 

“I can tell.  I’m not all that fond of her, being honest.” 

“Thought you’d say that,” she said, an uneasy chuckle leaving her lips. “You have every right to feel that way. I just think she’s kind, or at least kind to me, and I can’t bring myself to dislike her.” 

“Sorry. I’m glad she’s decent for you, I really am. I guess I just can’t see her as anything but a selfish kid with too much money, spending it on the wrong things.” 

“Two things can be true at once, you know. I’m not a fan of the dogs being so violent to strangers until you call them off. But they’re all so playful, and they keep me company when you’re away. Piper even lets me cuddle him.”

Squala smiled, somewhat forlorn, as he thought on her nugget of wisdom. "Yeah, they're little kids. Especially him.  I wish they’d been taught somewhere else. Not in Yorknew, a city full of gangs and rich farts wanting a piece of the pie."

“See, this is why we get each other.” Eliza paused, her voice lowering conspiratorially.  “Maybe it's fate we're under the same employer. Should I ask Neon for a fortune?”

Squala let out a groan. “No. I don't have to like her, or her weird fortune telling.”

“True! I did say that before.” 

“That stuff’s whack,” he continued. “Don’t mess with the dead, that’s what I say.” 

There was a change in the atmosphere, a glum sort of silence. Squala felt Eliza gently push into his chest, with an urgent clinginess.  

“I’ve never dared to ask her for one. Not in our line of work.” 

She pressed her wet face into him further, and Squala's spare arm held her secure and warm. 

The oppressive weight of their shared burden vanished under the weight of their embrace, the couple somewhat cushioned by the rain under a store-bought umbrella.

I have no idea why my recent fics incorporate bakeries. No, actually I do. It's Eurovision and I have an excuse to check out a lot of Liverpool cafés ^^

Took a few liberties with the characterisation here, seeing as they have so little screen time. I hope it paid off!

I love the Yorknew arc. Squala and Eliza may be minor characters, but they're close to my heart. This Rare Pair Big Bang gave me the perfect opportunity to write about them, with a very pretty piece of artwork.

A scene that has always stuck with me is Senritsu telling Kurapika of Squala's death, how Eliza was inconsolable, and Kurapika being shocked at Neon's sympathy. HxH's characters are so human and flawed, however likeable or unlikeable they are.