Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a dark and stormy afternoon.

Rain drove down relentlessly, picking at the roof of the mountain like fingers, tap-tap-tap: a horde of restless ghosts who wanted in.

Inside the mountain, the atmosphere was gloomy at best. While dim light trickled down through a few distant skylights, torches provided most of the illumination in the room—but their flames were all guttering low, a dispirited purple in color. As if they, too, were cursed…

“Is there truly no other way?”

It was Kikyo who posed the question. She wrung her hands as she looked beseechingly at her husband, in what was as much a performance of distress as it was a tell of real anxiety.

“The most skilled Nen exorcists could do nothing,” Silva said heavily, though all of them knew that already. “We need Nanika’s power. It’s the only option left.”

Another tense silence followed, this one broken by Milluki.

“Personally, I’m not concerned,” he said dismissively. “Haven’t we used that power all the time in the past? A few butlers might’ve died, but things always worked out fine in the end.”

The subtle irritation that arose in Silva’s face would have been invisible to anyone who wasn’t family, but Milluki wilted immediately at the sight of it.

“We still lack a proper understanding of how Nanika works,” Silva said. “However, what I find most concerning is the possibility of Killua failing to cooperate.”

Kikyo gasped, drawing her hands to her mouth dramatically. “Would Kil let his brother die?”

“Killua…has changed. His affection for Alluka has seemingly rendered him irrational, and so I find it hard to predict what action he might undertake in this scenario.” Silva paused, the smallest furrow appearing on his brow. “More pressingly, I’m not sure we’ll be able to track them down in time.”

“I’ll do it.”

Kalluto hadn’t planned on speaking, but the words were out in the air now. His whole family was staring at him, their expressions suggesting they’d forgotten his presence: not that he wasn’t used to that from them.

“I’ll bring Alluka home,” Kalluto elaborated. “And if Killua objects, then the two of them can come together. I swear, I’ll bring him home—no matter what.”

Zeno nodded approvingly at him. “Good lad.” Turning to Milluki, he said, “Look, Kal is more enterprising than you. Shouldn’t you try to keep up?”

“Do all of you think I’ve just been sitting on my ass this whole time?” Milluki countered. As his question was answered with a collective silence, his next words came out loud and angry. “Well, for the record, I haven’t! I’ve been busy making this!”

Milluki took some object from his hoodie pocket and tossed it to Kalluto, who caught it instinctively. 

“A compass,” Kalluto said, turning the creation around in his hand to study it more closely.

He’d never seen a compass quite like it before. To start, the whole thing was glowing faintly with aura, though that didn’t surprise him. More strikingly, there were none of the usual cardinal directions. In their place: the faces of their family, spaced evenly around the center and depicted in a strangely cartoonish style.

Not everyone was present, he noted. Rather, the compass seemed to include the family members who more often left the house—and Milluki was there too. In order, it went: Zeno, Silva, Kikyo, Illumi, Milluki, Killua, Alluka, Kalluto.

Kalluto found himself mildly surprised that Milluki had even included Alluka to begin with; perhaps his older brother was more clever than he’d given him credit for.

“I suppose it doesn’t work like a normal compass,” Kalluto said, looking to Milluki for an explanation.

Still miffed from their earlier dismissal of him, Milluki just slouched back against the wall, folding his arms petulantly across his chest.

“It’ll work better than your little paper dolls,” he sniffed, “that much I’ll tell you.”

Kalluto mustered his patience. “I’ll need to know how it works in order to use it properly.”

Under Silva’s stern glare, Milluki quickly relented. “The compass is for tracking, obviously. When I was making it, I added a drop of blood belonging to each person represented on its face. And unlike your dolls, time or proximity are irrelevant. The connection won’t ever fade. It’s basically idiot-proof; there’s absolutely no way you won’t be able to track down any of us who are on there. That’s the power of blood.”

A connection that would never fade…and a solid guarantee that you would find whoever you were looking for.

Kalluto’s eyes narrowed as he stared Milluki down. He knew there was no way it could possibly be that easy, even with the familial restriction. Things never were with Nen.

“What’s the price?”

“Tell it who you want to find, first,” Milluki challenged, “and then I’ll tell you.”

Kalluto wasn’t particularly happy with how he was framing this, but he didn’t want to take the time to push him. He was too impatient to start his mission.

“I want to find Killua,” Kalluto told the compass. 

Would it have been more prudent to say Alluka? Likely, but he would bet his life on the two of them still traveling together. Looking at the tiny image of his older brother now, he felt…he wasn’t quite sure. Ridiculous, maybe. Perhaps a little pathetic.

As if activated by his words, the bloody red glow of the compass shifted, until the majority of it highlighted Killua’s face specifically. From there, a line of glowing Nen dripped down to the middle of the compass, and as soon as the Nen reached the metal dial from which the hands protruded, the dial began to grow, twisting rapidly upwards around the center. 

Then the movement ceased, leaving a wicked-looking thorn as the centerpiece. 

“Now you just prick your finger on the thorn,” Milluki said, with a certain relish. “After that, the contract will have been formed. You’ll be linked to the compass, and it will guide you in the right direction. It pulls you…you’ll just know what direction to go. Oh, and one last thing. If you were to give up on finding them—if you decided to go home without him, for example—the Nen would backlash, and then you yourself would become…unfindable.”

Unfindable. 

There was an ominous ring to the word, but Kalluto had no idea what Milluki meant by it.

Before Kalluto could ask, Silva did. “Please explain what exactly that entails.”

“Yeah, sure.” Milluki paused, forehead scrunching in deep thought. After another moment, he shrugged. “You know, I never put that much thought into designing that condition. It needed to be something serious, but not anything that would cause death, obviously. But I’m pretty sure that becoming unfindable would cut all ties to our family. We’d never be able to find you again, and you’ll never be able to find any of us again. A complete severing.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Kalluto objected. “It would stop me from returning home? How exactly does that work?”

Milluki shrugged again, obnoxiously. “Look, just don’t break the condition, and you’ll be fine. Who cares about some hypothetical. Failure isn’t an option, anyway.”

Objectively, Milluki was right. And yet…Kalluto despised this kind of lackadaisical attitude. He hated when serious matters weren’t treated seriously, and he hated even more when rules weren’t properly explained.

Quite suddenly, Kalluto missed Illumi with a near-overwhelming intensity. He would’ve pried a better explanation out of Milluki. Just as much as Kalluto, Illumi felt the need to understand all the underlying rules of a situation. If he were here—

“Fine,” Kalluto snapped, and without further hesitation he pricked his finger on the thorn. 

A drop of blood immediately welled up, and as it slid down the compass, it dissolved, seeping under the surface to join all the other blood inside. Briefly, he wondered if there would ever come a time when the compass was too full of blood to take any more.

The Nen-line on the compass darkened in color, turning a deep blood-red. He felt a pull in his gut, his blood guiding him to Killua, and turned to follow the feeling.

There. He’s that way.

“It seems you’ve caught the trail,” Silva said, to which Kalluto only nodded absently in response.

Already, the urge to leave, to chase after this feeling, was almost undeniable. 

Kalluto’s life had narrowed down to a single purpose, an urgent whisper in his blood: find Killua. Find him, and bring him home.

He packed his bag quickly, and within an hour he was gone.

🥀🐉🥀

Somehow, the journey still took weeks.

Weeks of hiking through canyons and across arid plains, traveling under moonlight to avoid the scorching sun, hacking his way through thick jungle with a single minded determination. He crossed oceans: first flying south to Japan and the Yorbian continent, then west to the Belgrosse Union, then north to Kakin. 

The trail was ever-shifting, elusive, infuriating. Countless times, Kalluto thought crossly, can’t he just stay in one place for a while? It was almost as if Killua knew he was on his trail and was making it as difficult as possible for him to follow.

At long last, he ended up on a remote northern island. It was roughly the same latitude as Kukuroo mountain, about halfway across the ocean from the Mimbo Republic. If he’d gone only a little further, he’d have made a full loop around the mapped world. He supposed he would make a full loop once he returned home.

Technically speaking, Kalluto had once undergone a much longer journey. It had taken months to even reach the shores of the Dark Continent, after all…and yet these past few weeks had somehow stretched his patience even more than that time had.

At least back then he’d had Illumi with him, reliably there by his side.

And it wasn’t as if Kalluto needed a safety net or anything of the sort—a Zoldyck didn’t need anyone’s protection. It was only that Illumi had been right there on that journey, his unshakable presence a reassurance that Kalluto hadn’t fully realized until it was gone.

Kalluto couldn’t shake the image of the last time he’d seen his older brother and how different he had looked then. He didn’t want to imagine what Illumi might look like now, but his brain, which was usually so compliant with his demands, was no longer cooperating.

Stop that.

A sudden pain thankfully snapped him out of his thoughts. Sharp and demanding, it came from his foot. 

Looking down, he saw that he’d carelessly stepped on a thorn. Considering his sturdy boots, this wouldn’t generally be an issue, except the thorns on this island were quite impressive in their size and toughness. From the feel of it, this one had managed to pierce a good way into his foot, which was less than ideal.

This region of the island was overgrown with massive, thorny vines. Most likely, that was why he hadn’t run into any people for the past few days—it wasn’t exactly a nice place to visit. Though the thorns were easy enough to avoid so long as you were paying attention…which he had clearly not been.

Annoyingly, upon yanking out the thorn, blood began spurting from his foot at a rapid rate. Stop that, he thought automatically, once again, and then became annoyed with himself for thinking something so inanely stupid. 

Naturally he’d brought plenty of medical supplies with him, though he’d hardly had need of them until now. It was a simple matter to wrap his foot in bandages. The issue came in walking; while the pain wasn’t bad at first, as the minutes ticked by it gradually worsened, until the throbbing ache was somewhat difficult to ignore.

Stubbornly, he refused to slow his pace or take a break.

I am a Zoldyck. I will not be defeated by a thorn, of all things.

And yet, eventually he took a step that forced a gasp out of him. Though a lesser man would no doubt be screaming in pain, he still felt irritated by his body’s uncontrolled reaction.

Suddenly there was a sharp tug in his gut, and he felt as if he’d been electrocuted. 

Killua!

Kalluto knew with an impossible certainty that his brother was nearby: close enough that if he were to shout his name right now, Killua would hear him.

If he only called Killua’s name…but he couldn’t. He felt certain he’d be unable to prevent the pain from bleeding into his voice. It would sound like a call for help; Killua, come save me!

Kalluto couldn’t do it. He couldn’t lower himself to that.

Another angry throb came from his foot, the worst one yet; this time, the pain radiated up his leg, a twisting, living thing. He sat down—the world spun at the motion, and he blinked a few times until it stopped. Then he pulled up his pants leg, needing to see the injury again.

…That does not look good. 

There were…vines under his skin; he didn’t know how else to think of it. The twisting patterns of the marks which marred his skin, along with the dark green-purple color of them, looked eerily like the same vine he’d stepped on. And now it was growing inside him, overtaking him, creeping a little farther up his leg every few seconds. 

Soon, the infection might devour him entirely.

But I’m immune to poison, he reasoned, and the logic calmed his rapidly beating heart. 

No, there was no chance Kalluto would die from this. Still…even Zoldyck poison immunity had its limits. As Illumi had explained it to him once, their superior genetics still had flaws, which meant that poison training could only do so much. And so, a poison that by all rights should kill him would just slow him down instead. Put him to sleep, perhaps. 

Killua would probably be fine, the prodigy that he is.

Kalluto pushed the bitter thought aside—this was no time for moping. He felt…a little queasy, though mostly light-headed, weak. He resisted the feeling of impending unconsciousness that came over him, darkening the edges of his vision. Kalluto needed to get up, he needed to keep moving. Killua was so close, and he’d been searching for him for so long, for years, even when he wasn’t meaning to: his eyes always seeking out any white hair in a crowd, his mind seemingly unable to let go of the brother who’d left him behind.

After all this time, he was so close to finding him; how pathetic would it be to give up now?

Just as Kalluto opened his mouth to call out his brother’s name, indignity be damned, he found he’d lost his voice. Perhaps I should have called for help after all, he thought, and then darkness closed over him.

🥀🐉🥀

The sky was a soft pink, the same delicate shade as cherry blossoms.

Soft, he thought hazily, and stretched out an arm to touch it. He couldn’t, though. The sky was too far away. No, it was his arm…his arm wouldn’t move. Why…

He frowned, and tried again. Another failure.

Where am I…?

There was a sound like a zipper, and he sensed a new presence behind him.

Before Kalluto could feel any fear, he caught a familiar smell, and his heart skipped a beat. Jasmine tea…

“Mother?” Kalluto asked, his voice coming out scratchy, barely louder than a whisper.

His question was answered with a rude snort, and then the person came into view, leaning over his head. Instantly, the fog in his mind vanished.

“That’s funny,” Killua said dryly. “What gave you that idea?”

Killua, Killua, Killua. 

Kalluto felt almost dizzy. He certainly couldn’t answer him. Even as he felt suddenly and entirely awake, no words would come: no thoughts could even form in his brain. 

It had been a little over five years since he had last seen his brother.

At sixteen, Killua’s face was both the same and completely different from his face when he was eleven. He looked like the teenager he was now, with hardly any baby fat remaining in his cheeks, yet his eyes were exactly the same: a harsh and cutting blue just a shade warmer than Silva’s.

Kalluto had forgotten how it felt to be pinned under that gaze. He was being cut-open.

“Killua,” he said at last.

“Yup, that’s my name,” Killua replied. He looked like he was barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes. “Can you sit up?”

Kalluto tried, he truly did. While moving felt less impossible than it had when he’d first woken up—he could wiggle his fingers now—sitting up unassisted was a different matter entirely.

“I need help,” he was forced to admit.

He thought for a second that Killua would just roll his eyes and leave him lying there. It looked like he was considering it, but then he grabbed Kalluto’s shoulder and roughly pushed him into an upright position, leaving him leaned against one wall of…ah, this was a tent. He should’ve realized that sooner, but he’d been fairly distracted. 

That done, Killua held out a mug of tea in a silent offer.

Kalluto wasn’t sure his hands were steady enough to drink it, but what were the alternatives? He couldn’t admit to that weakness, and the thought of Killua…helping him drink it, like he was some helpless baby bird, was entirely repulsive.

So he reached out and took the mug. Only a little of the tea sloshed out onto the floor of the tent; he’d consider that a success. Taking a slow sip of tea, he felt instantly rejuvenated by the soothing taste, and almost wanted to close his eyes.

Surprisingly, Killua waited until he’d drunk half the mug to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Kalluto wasn’t sure how to phrase his response, his thoughts still slow to form. To delay, he asked a question of his own. “How did you find me?”

Killua said nothing for half a minute, watching him with narrowed eyes. “It wasn’t hard. I was just walking, and then we stumbled across your unconscious body.”

Kalluto didn’t miss the change in pronouns—so Alluka was with him, then. Excellent.

“We also found this in your bag,” he said, pulling something from the pocket of his hoodie. It was the compass. “Milluki’s work, right?” As Kalluto silently nodded, he glared down at the compass accusingly. “Stupid thing. I should break it.”

“Don’t,” Kalluto blurted, hot panic bursting like blood in his mouth. “Please. I don’t know what will happen if you do.”

Would the mission be counted as a failure if the compass were to be broken? He didn’t know, but he couldn’t risk the chance of never being able to return home.

“Fine, fine, I won’t,” Killua said, holding his hands up appeasingly. He slipped the compass back into his pocket. “The damage is already done, anyway…but I’ll hold onto this for now.”

There was an awkward pause. Kalluto wondered if Killua was waiting for a thank you, since he’d agreed not to break the compass. He wouldn’t be getting one if he was.

“You could’ve died, you know,” Killua said after a minute, his voice quietly accusing. How strange…was he actually mad? Kalluto couldn’t tell, but it seemed that way. “Those thorns are no joke. Their poison puts people to sleep for years, and the victims can’t wake up without treatment. If nobody finds you…well. You’d probably end up getting eaten by dragons.”

Dragons…like Zeno’s Nen? Wait.

“I thought dragons were all extinct.”

“Nope. They might be pretty rare nowadays, but in the known world, almost all of the remaining ones live on this island.” He fixed Kalluto with a heavy stare. “Dragons aren’t usually too dangerous for Nen-users, but they have a taste for human flesh. Even with our training, the poison would’ve kept you asleep for at least a day. That’s plenty long enough for a dragon to find you and eat you.”

Kalluto was beginning to understand the weight of the situation. In his unforgivable carelessness, he’d underestimated the situation and nearly gotten himself killed.

“Thank you for saving me,” he made himself say, before a thought hit him like a lightning-bolt. He should’ve realized it instantly. “Was it Nanika who healed me?”

And he knew he must be fully healed, because the pain was entirely gone. He felt totally fine, aside from the lingering stiffness in his limbs that he assumed was temporary.

Though Killua didn’t look pleased, after a moment he nodded tersely.

“I need Nanika’s power,” Kalluto blurted. “It—Alluka has to come back with me.”

“Back home?” Killua said sharply. When Kalluto nodded, he laughed once, disbelievingly. “No. Absolutely not. Why the hell would I allow that?”

“ILLUMI IS DYING!”

Kalluto hadn’t meant to shout, but as his senses returned, the urgency hit him once again like a heavy fist to the stomach. The memory he’d been forcing back all this time, the horrid vision of Illumi’s inhuman form lying still on the bed, returned to him, and it was all he could do to not shudder violently under its assault. 

Killua stared at him in silent shock with his mouth slightly open, eyes wide and frightened. He appeared much closer to the brother Kalluto was familiar with then, as if he’d become a child again before his eyes.

The moment passed; Killua’s eyes narrowed, turning cold and hard.

“Yeah, right,” he sneered. “Don’t lie to me, Kalluto—it insults both our intelligence.”

“I’m not lying!” Kalluto hadn’t imagined this scenario, somehow: his brother not believing him. His own voice sounded high-pitched and childish to his ears, but he couldn’t control it. “Illumi, he’s—he’s been cursed. He doesn’t even look human!”

Killua recoiled, the fear returning for a split second before vanishing behind an iron wall. 

“No. That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Kalluto insisted. “Please, Kil. I promise I’m not lying to you. It’s,” he swallowed. “It’s really bad. We’ve tried everything, but nothing has worked. I don’t even know if…”

If we’ll be able to make it back in time, or if all of this will have been for nothing. What if he’s already dead? What if I’m already too late?

“But it’s lIlumi,” Killua argued unconvincingly. “He’s so strong. Who would even be able to curse him? He can’t be dying, it doesn’t…make sense.”

Kalluto could almost laugh at the confusion on his brother’s face, except nothing about this situation was remotely amusing. “He isn’t a god. It’s not like he can’t die. We don’t know how it occurred, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”

Finally, he could see that Killua was accepting what he was saying as truth. A myriad of emotions flashed over his brother’s face, there and gone too quickly for Kalluto to identify any of them besides fear.

Eventually, Killua’s expression settled on indifference, though it was quite obviously a mask.

“Well,” he said coldly. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I can’t help you. You’ll have to keep looking for some other way.”

“There is no other way,” Kalluto insisted. “Have you even been listening to me?”

“And what do you want me to do about it, huh?” Killua snapped, his fake-calm gone in an instant. “The last time I saw Illumi, he was trying to kill Alluka! Maybe he’s given up on that, maybe he just wants to control her and Nanika now, but I’m not going to—I won’t put them in danger over this. He’s not worth it.”

Kalluto swallowed, clutching the mug of tea harder in his hands. The last dregs of it must have gone cold by now: his hands felt like ice, a feeling echoed in his chest. 

“So you’ll just…let him die?”

“Shut up!” Killua yelled. Kalluto winced at the over-loud volume, and when Killua continued, his tone was forcibly quieter. “It wouldn’t be my fault if he died. It wouldn’t. I’m just trying to protect my sisters.”

“Illumi is still your brother,” he reminded Killua, as it seemed like he’d forgotten. 

Killua huffed out a breath. “I know that. Still, I would’ve been happy never seeing him again. He’s…kind of a terrible person. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Kalluto blinked, surprised. “I wouldn’t call him terrible.”

His brother shook his head, seemingly in disbelief. “Seriously? Well, I guess he’s always gone easy on the baby of the family.”

“He hasn’t gone easy on me.” He was somewhat offended. “My training has been just as intensive as yours.”

Killua’s expression changed once again, the tightly controlled anger crumbling away to reveal something ugly underneath. 

“Sure it has…” his voice was deadly soft. “So I suppose he’s followed you around and forced you to return home against your will? He’s tried to control every single one of your thoughts and feelings? Has he stuck a fucking needle in your head to turn you into his puppet?”

“You’re still mad about the needle?” Kalluto wasn’t sure where this kind of strong emotion was coming from. “That was years ago. And it was only to protect you.”

Killua laughed. It was louder than before, sounding vaguely hysterical.

“Of course you knew about that, too,” he said, a little breathlessly. “All of you were lying to me, going behind my back…I think I have the right to still be fucking mad about it.”

Kalluto understood his brother’s anger a little better now, though it still seemed overblown; at the very least, he knew well how it felt to be left out of family conversations.

“I didn’t know until later,” he offered. “Illumi told me about it after everything with Alluka.”

Killua took a visible deep breath, and seemed to deflate a little. “Okay, but that doesn’t change my position. I don’t owe Illumi anything. He sucks, big time.”

“He’s—” Kalluto paused, deciding not to say he’s really not that bad. Considering Killua’s earlier blow up, the sentiment likely wouldn’t be well-received. “He’s still family.”

His brother closed his eyes. When he spoke next, his voice carried a note of exhaustion.

“Why does blood matter so much to you people? I have friends that I consider family more than either you or Illumi.”

After so many years had passed, the rejection shouldn’t have hurt this much, but perhaps some pains would never fade.

“But why don’t you like me?” Kalluto couldn’t help asking, moronic as it was to expose his own emotional weakness. “Perhaps I can understand why you hold a grudge against Illumi, but what did I ever do to you?”

Killua opened his eyes to stare right at him. Even as Kalluto looked back, he couldn’t identify what Killua was feeling at that moment. He’d never understood his brother, as much as he’d tried…as much as he’d always longed to.

“I don’t…dislike you.”

Kalluto stared back silently. Then why the hesitation?

Killua sighed. “It’s…uh, it’s complicated. Look, I—”

Annoyingly, their conversation was interrupted by an outside voice.

“Killuaaa!” A male voice yelled—and puberty or no, that didn’t sound like Alluka. “We’re back with breakfast!!!”

As Killua turned his head toward the entrance of the tent, his expression suddenly changed completely, softening into something nearly unrecognizable, the ice in his eyes melting. It was so unlike how he looked at Kalluto, and Kalluto found himself surprised at how painful it was to witness the obvious difference.

No matter what he claims, Killua definitely hates me.

“Coming!” He paused, glancing back at Kalluto briefly before going to the tent door and unzipping it; not far enough for Kalluto to get a good glimpse of outside, but enough for his voice to carry through without shouting. “Do you guys mind if I bring company? He’s awake.”

“Of course not!” That was the same voice.

Another one, somewhat higher than the first; “It’s okay with me, too.”

The second voice had a certain quality to it he recognized, though it was a deeper tone than the last time he’d heard it. Alluka. It had to be him.

Killua distracted him by turning to point a finger at him. “Behave yourself,” he hissed, eyes narrow and sharp. 

The threat was implicit yet obvious: mess with Alluka, get stabbed. Or electrocuted, perhaps…? No, Kalluto wasn’t worth that usage of aura. Stabbed it was.

Kalluto simply nodded in reply, and Killua sighed.

“You should be able to stand by now.”

Indeed, Kalluto was able to follow Killua out of the tent without much trouble. While his movements were relatively uncoordinated—he certainly wasn’t back in fighting shape yet—at least he could move now.

Outside of the tent, the bright morning light briefly overwhelmed him, and he shut his eyes instinctively before forcing them to open into slits. Always maintain situational awareness, Illumi’s voice echoed in his head.

“Hi, Kalluto,” the deeper voice said, now attached to a stocky teenager who looked…almost familiar. The dark green spiky hair, the observant brown eyes—“I’m Gon Freecss,” he said, and now the memory came to him.

Five years ago, this bright-eyed child had waltzed into the Zoldyck estate in bold pursuit of Killua, determined to rescue his new friend.

Gon’s face back then had been softer, rounder, and Kalluto mostly recalled how it had looked when his features were largely lost under the swelling from his injuries, which explained why it had taken a moment for him to recognize the boy.

He remembered watching from a sheltered spot in the bushes as Gon had rushed forward again and again, to be met each time with Canary’s blows. A perfect portrait of insanity. Kalluto had gone to alert Kikyo to the situation, but her efforts had proved fruitless in the end.

Thanks to Gon, Killua had been stolen from them.

All of this, everything, was his fault.

“ —remember me, but it’s nice to finally meet you properly!”

Kalluto stared at him wordlessly, and turned away. To Killua, he said, “I’m surprised you’re traveling with him again, after he nearly got himself killed in that mess with the ants.”

In the corner of his eye, Gon’s smile faded. He felt a small, vicious satisfaction to see it.

Instantly and surprisingly, Killua became enraged. “That’s none of your fucking business,” he said lowly, his tone threatening violence. “And if you can’t keep your damn idiot mouth shut, I’ve got some duct tape that will do the trick.”

He gave his brother an unimpressed look. Duct tape…really? You’ve gone soft.

“Killua!” Alluka admonished sharply, and he glanced down, seeming abashed. “Don’t be rude.”

“He started it,” Killua muttered, but then he quietly went over to join Gon, both of them starting to lay out food on a flat stone slab. 

In a sense, it was interesting that Alluka seemed to be the one in charge here. It went entirely against the Zoldyck family hierarchy; as the older brother, Killua’s word should be absolute. On the other hand, it made sense that the rule had been broken. It wasn’t as if his brothers had respected any of the other family rules when they’d run away from home.

Unfortunately, as a result of this, Alluka and Kalluto were left to stand together in tense silence. A significant part of him wanted to retreat back into the tent. He had nothing to say to Alluka. Only he did, because somehow he needed to persuade him to come back home.

Kalluto prepared himself to speak, but Alluka beat him to it.

“I have to say, I wasn’t expecting to see you, Kalluto,” Alluka said, gazing at him with open curiosity. “Did you run away from home, too?”

“No,” he said curtly.

Alluka tilted his head. “Then…you’re here for Killua. You want to bring him back.” It was a reasonable assumption, and not entirely untrue. Alluka was frowning, seeming disappointed. “He’s not going back there, and neither am I.”

Kalluto wanted to snap, Why would you think I want you to come home? He kept his mouth firmly shut, as saying that would go entirely against his mission objective.

Here lay the problem; Kalluto needed to get Alluka to warm up to him, but he didn’t like Alluka, which made that difficult. Nor did he know Alluka well enough to manipulate him easily…and besides, it had always been difficult for Kalluto to hide his true feelings about someone.

He’d have to simply be honest…

Although, would the truth be enough on its own? Did Alluka care enough about their older brother to want to save him?

Doubtful, he concluded.

If only Killua would leave for a few minutes, then he could just grab Alluka and worry about the consequences later. Unfortunately, Killua showed no inclination of leaving Alluka unsupervised for even a moment, and his ridiculous Nen made it impossible to outrun him. Gon was an additional factor, as well. Even if Gon hadn’t yet recovered his Nen, he knew the boy was at least physically strong, and it wouldn’t be wise to underestimate his capabilities. 

Kalluto was outnumbered; he had no choice but to take the diplomatic approach.

“Breakfast is ready!” Gon called out cheerfully, his voice cutting through the frigid atmosphere like a laser beam through ice. 

The stone slab that served as a makeshift table was laid out with a tablecloth patterned with pink and white blossoms on a blue backdrop. Spread across the table was a wide variety of breakfast pastries arranged around a central platter of sliced fruit. 

Acceptable, he thought begrudgingly. 

More protein would be ideal, of course, but he’d always had a weakness for a good pastry.

Gon and Killua began tearing into the food as soon as they were all sat down, eating with a messy vigor that had Alluka rolling his eyes. He looked over at Kalluto almost conspiratorially, as if expecting to share a commiserating glance—look how messy they are, what slobs.

Though Kalluto fully agreed with the sentiment, he looked back down at his plate instead. A paper plate, though that was excusable. It didn’t make sense to travel with fine china, after all.

As Kalluto slowly picked away at his almond croissant, eating it layer by layer as he liked to do, he silently listened to the others converse. Gon and Alluka tried engaging him a few times before realizing he had no interest in small talk and leaving him alone. He was then able to carefully observe their group interactions and dynamics.

Killua was…more assured than he’d ever seen him before. He’d always been confident in his abilities, of course, but this was something different. There was a certain ease to him that was foreign. He talked significantly more than Kalluto remembered: much of it was quick and teasing banter shared with Gon. Killua was also smiling a lot more than Kalluto was used to, in a way that Kalluto only recalled from past observation of his interactions with Alluka.

Alluka was quite different than he recalled as well, though some of that may have been due to the fact that Kalluto barely remembered him; he’d been locked away when they were both still young. Still, Alluka seemed somehow more comfortable in his own skin, smiling and laughing often and easily.

Gon seemed much the same, but Kalluto honestly didn’t care enough about the boy to observe him that closely. 

The main thing Kalluto noted about Gon was how close he sat to Killua, as if some invisible gravity drew him in. He was sitting right next to him, so close that occasionally their arms would brush. Even stranger, Killua seemed unbothered by this, as if he were accustomed to sharing his personal space with Gon, which…Kalluto found that troubling.

Someone snapped in his face—it was Killua, naturally. Though his heart leapt wildly at the shock, he kept a level expression as he looked back at his brother.

“What?”

“We’re done eating,” Killua said. “So why don’t you tell them why you’ve come here?”

It was an order, not a question, but Kalluto wasn’t opposed to answering. He’d healed, rested, and eaten; there was no point in further delay. 

“Illumi is dying,” Kalluto began.

Before he could say another word, Gon whipped his head around to stare wide-eyed at Killua. 

“Killua, are you okay?”

Killua rolled his eyes, feigning indifference. “I’m not the one who’s dying, you know.”

“I knew you were acting weird earlier,” Gon continued, unphased by the rebuff. “Seriously, though, are you—”

“Why should I care about that guy!” Killua exclaimed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“He’s still your brother,” Gon said, at the same time as Kalluto replied, “He’s our brother.”

There was an awkward pause, during which Kalluto regretted saying anything at all. How annoying, to sound just the same as Gon Freecss.

Regardless, he forged onward.

“What would it take for you to agree to help?”

Killua stood up and crossed his arms. To say that he was looming over Kalluto would be false, but there was an air of intimidation all the same. “What would it take for you to go away?”

“Do you truly want me to?” Kalluto hadn’t planned to say that, but so much of his plan had gone off the rails already. He hadn’t realized Killua would be this resistant. “Are you actually going to let him die?”

Killua stared at him silently. From the uneasy way he shifted on his feet, it seemed as if he wanted to run. Would he run away, or toward Kalluto to attack?

Gon glanced back and forth between them with an indecisive frown, an outsider who didn’t know if he should intervene. Kalluto wished he’d leave. This was none of his business.

The crisp sound of clapping hands drew everyone’s attention to Alluka, who’d climbed up onto the stone slab while no one was paying attention.

“Hello?” Alluka said loudly, hands on his hips. “I think there’s someone you’re forgetting to ask here…this is all about Nanika, isn’t it? You need her power to heal Illumi.”

“Yes,” Kalluto conceded.

“Then why don’t you ask me how I feel about it, instead of Killua? He’s not my keeper.”

Privately, Kalluto disagreed, but he supposed this attitude might work in his favor. “Fine. Will you come back with me to heal him?”

“Yes,” Alluka said promptly.

Unexpected…was Alluka actually stupid? He hadn’t been expecting instant agreement. As much as it was in his favor, it was foolish behavior.

Killua was clearly shocked to hear it, as he stared at Alluka in disbelief.

“Alluka, are you sure about this?” Killua asked after a long moment. “I won’t be angry if you tell him to fuck off. Illumi isn’t—you don’t owe him anything, and you shouldn’t just agree to help for my sake.”

Alluka shook his head firmly. “That’s not it…I wouldn't feel right letting him die, not when I’m the only one who can help. They must be desperate to be asking me.”

Killua scowled. “Those assholes are trying to take advantage of your kindness. It’s not your responsibility to keep him alive. Illumi would’ve killed you! He doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

“That’s true, but my answer hasn’t changed.”

“Fine, but what about Nanika?” Killua persisted. “How does she feel about healing him?”

Alluka sighed, seeming exasperated. “You know I wouldn’t agree if she wasn’t okay with it,” he said. “We’ve already talked it over. Besides, I never said I would heal him for free.”

When Alluka turned to look down at Kalluto, there was a surprising steel in his eyes. 

“Here’s my deal, Kalluto. I’ll heal Illumi, but in exchange, the family has to leave us alone for good. They can’t look for us or try to control us anymore…this is the last thing I’ll ever do for them. If you can’t accept these terms, then I won’t heal him.”

Silence fell over the clearing; this time, it was broken by Gon’s low whistle.

“That’s so clever!” Gon praised, clapping his hands. “Great thinking.”

Killua laughed helplessly a few times before he got himself together. “Holy shit, Alluka. When did you get to be so smart?”

“I’ve always been smart!”

“Of course, my bad.”

Begrudgingly, Kalluto found himself impressed. He wouldn’t have expected Alluka to think of such a coldly pragmatic bargain. Alluka’s blood was finally showing its true colors; he was a Zoldyck after all.

“Very well,” he said with a nod. “I agree to your terms.”

Killua sobered up, fixing him with a serious look. “Do you actually have the authority to speak for the rest of the family, or are you bullshitting to get what you want? If you screw us over, I’ll make you regret it.”

Kalluto had left in too much of a hurry to even consider something like that. 

As the youngest member of the family, he’d never held any authority. It didn’t matter. He’d make them listen to him, somehow…for the price of Illumi’s life, they would surely agree.

“No, but that’s irrelevant. I’ll convince them to hold to your terms.”

“Hm.” Killua considered this for a second, then shrugged. “Fine. If things get ugly, we’ll just blow up that damn mountain.”

Are you serious?

Gon perked up at that, an unnerving gleam sparking to life in his eyes. “Hey, I know a guy who can get us some explosives!”

“...On second thought, let’s not.”

“Killuaaaa,” Gon whined, dragging out the last part of his name to a ridiculous degree. “Why don’t you trust me with explosives?”

“Do you seriously need me to answer that?”

“Enough,” Kalluto interrupted. “We need to get moving. Time is of the essence.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Killua said, stretching his arms over his shoulders. A nice show of nonchalance, but Kalluto saw right through it. “I’ll get us tickets for a direct airship. Should only take us a few days to get there.”

“...I could get us there faster,” Alluka started, but Killua immediately shook his head.

“Save your strength. If Illumi can’t hold on that long, then he can die for all I care.”

Alluka and Gon exchanged a glance that Kalluto couldn’t interpret.

“I’m sure we’ll make it in time,” Gon said, setting a hand on Killua’s shoulder. Instead of brushing it off as Kalluto expected him to, Killua let it stay; he even seemed to lean slightly into the touch. 

It was unsettling to see. Why would his brother allow that intimacy?

Kalluto brushed off the disquiet he felt at seeing yet another way in which his brother had changed. It didn’t matter if Killua felt like a stranger to him now. Kalluto only needed his brother’s cooperation in order to heal Illumi…after that, they would go their separate ways.

Chapter Text

Can’t this damn airship go any faster? 

Several minutes ago now, Killua and Gon had run off together to who-knew-where, leaving Kalluto to sit in stilted silence with Alluka. 

Again. 

He was staring out the window at the featureless gray sky in an attempt to ignore his unwanted traveling companion, but it wasn’t working. Kalluto couldn’t ignore Alluka’s presence—it felt like Alluka was staring at him, though he refused to turn around to check. 

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Alluka asked eventually.

And what gives you that impression?

“Well?” Alluka prodded, ignoring the fact that he was still completely turned away. Kalluto could have begrudgingly tolerated Alluka’s company in silence. Why must there be talking?

“No,” he said shortly.

Alluka either failed to pick up on the hint, or noticed and decided to keep bothering him anyway—likely, it was the latter. “Why not? I feel like we hardly even know each other.”

Even in the dull gray winter light, Alluka’s eyes glowed brightly, an almost unnatural blue. The same shade as Killua’s…except he couldn’t remember a time his older brother had ever graced him with his attention for this long. There was no judgement in Alluka’s gaze, either, only a stark openness like the summer sky.

Kalluto realized he appreciated the apparent lack of judgement, and felt annoyed with himself. The petty side of him wanted to keep ignoring Alluka, but something else pushed him to respond.

“That is true,” he admitted stiffly. “We’re essentially strangers.”

“Both of us have always preferred Killua’s company.” Alluka tilted his head thoughtfully. “You could’ve played with us more, if you’d just asked.”

He didn’t want to admit that Nanika had scared him ever since the first time he’d seen the thing emerge, so he only shrugged. A question occurred to him then. He hadn’t cared enough to bring it up earlier, but now that Killua had ditched them both, this was a good opportunity to satisfy his curiosity on the topic.

“Why does Killua act like you’re a girl?”

Alluka frowned slightly, though his expression smoothed out a second later. “Because I am a girl. Both me and Nanika are.”

“The rest of the family says differently,” Kalluto pointed out.

Personally, he didn’t have much of an opinion on Alluka’s gender either way. In truth he’d never cared enough about Alluka to formulate his own thoughts on the matter, simply following along with how the family referred to him. Kalluto wasn’t sure why he was even bothering to continue this line of questioning. 

“Well, the family doesn’t get to have a say in it,” Alluka said; finally, there was a real bite to their voice. “I don’t care what they or you or anyone else thinks—I know who I am.”

How must it feel to have so much certainty in your identity?

He couldn’t even imagine it.

“Good for you,” Kalluto replied eventually. He was being sarcastic, but the tone didn’t come across very well. Alluka even smiled a little, as if he’d said something genuinely nice.

Kalluto looked away, out the window at the thick gray clouds. To think, that brief exchange was the most conversation he’d shared with Alluka in…quite possibly their entire lives. He didn’t know how to feel about it, and that uncertainty set him on edge.

For a moment, he considered leaving with the excuse of looking for Killua, but he didn’t want to risk actually running into his brother. Not when Killua was with Gon—and Kalluto had no doubt they were together. Horribly, the two of them seemed attached at the hip.

Killua despises me, anyway. 

Killua’s half-hearted claim that he didn’t dislike Kalluto meant nothing in the face of his actions. It must be a lie. Still, Kalluto had to wonder what he’d done wrong to make his brother hate him. Had he done something terrible by mistake? Surely he’d remember such a thing.

As Kalluto ruminated on his own possible mistakes, an unexpected feeling of resentment arose in him. He could take a punishment, but if he didn’t know what he was being punished for, how was that fair? What had he done to deserve his brother’s hatred?

Killua was the one who’d left, and for some reason he was expected to play nice.

Killua had even been willing to let Illumi die. 

And yet…even now, Kalluto still cared too much about his brother’s opinion of him. His own feelings made no sense to him. Why did he still look up to Killua? Why did he still wish uselessly that they could be close? That impossible dream…why couldn’t he just let it go?

You could’ve played with us more, if you’d just asked.

Alluka’s words were impossible to ignore. If that statement was true, then he’d already missed his chance.

“Oh, it’s snowing,” Alluka said softly, with a tone of delight.

At some point in the past several minutes, as Kalluto had become lost in his own thoughts, snow had started falling without his notice. He blinked, refocusing on the view. Kalluto had always been fascinated by the way snow fell, the spiraling motions of it. 

He recalled one summer, several years ago…there was a heatwave which had made him long for the winter snows, and he’d started cutting out paper snowflakes in his spare time. It didn’t take long for the activity to spiral into an obsession. He’d made so many snowflakes, attempting to make them as small and realistic as he possibly could—and he’d given himself numerous paper cuts in the process.

Before that summer, he’d never considered that paper could hurt, could even be used as a weapon. Later, when he started learning Nen, it had simply felt right to center his Hatsu around paper: something beautiful and seemingly delicate, something perpetually overlooked that could kill with deadly grace nonetheless.

There was something strangely companionable about watching the snow with Alluka. They seemed equally transfixed by the sight, a gentle smile on their face. Neither of them spoke for a long time. It was…peaceful.

After a while, Kalluto was forced to admit to himself that he honestly didn’t dislike Alluka’s company. Perhaps the realization shouldn’t have come as such a surprise; it was true that he’d never taken the chance to get to know them before.

The snow seemed to fall thicker and faster by the minute, until nothing could be seen out the windows, the outer world hidden behind an impenetrable curtain of white. It was beautiful, to be sure, but Kalluto wondered how the airship could keep course in this blizzard.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the overhead speakers crackled on. 

“Attention, all passengers! We regret to inform you that due to dangerous weather conditions, we’ll be taking a brief water landing to wait for the storm to clear. We’ll resume our flight as soon as it is safe to do so. Thank you for your patience.”

“Shit,” Kalluto muttered crossly, feeling anything but patient.

How wretchedly inconvenient—it was as if the weather itself was conspiring against him. The snow that was so lovely before now seemed to swirl mockingly, and he glared out the window at it, wishing irrationally he could control the snow like how he manipulated his paper storms.

“Oh dear,” Alluka said with a little frown. “We should find Killua and Gon to check in.”

Kalluto didn’t particularly want to go in search of them, but the brief time of peace had passed. It was a smart move tactically, as well, so he followed behind Alluka in silence.

As they made their way through the groups of other passengers, he noticed that people let them through more easily than he would’ve expected, politely giving them space to get by rather than shoving at them.

When an elderly man accidentally bumped into Alluka’s arm, he said, “Sorry, miss.”

“It’s okay,” Alluka returned with a smile.

It was then that something clicked into place.

All of these people saw Alluka as a girl, and they treated her accordingly. In the eyes of society, Alluka was a girl. Kalluto looked at his sibling again, and made a conscious effort to see them through the eyes of a stranger.

Alluka’s long hair with its colorful beads, the lilac skirt and light yellow knitted sweater…every aspect of her appearance screamed girl, an image that was clearly cultivated with great care. 

Kalluto had suspected for years that their mother had always secretly wanted a daughter. Without any such luck, she’d dressed him up instead, and he truly hadn’t minded. He’d come to enjoy a more feminine style of clothing, and even now that he was older he still dressed that way often enough that people would occasionally mistake him for a girl.

He’d never liked being mistaken for one, though. It wasn’t much of a bother, not enough to be worth voicing his objections, but something about it had always rubbed him the wrong way.

In the past, Kalluto had wondered sometimes if Killua had always wanted a sister, and if that was why he was so insistent on calling Alluka a girl even when everyone else disagreed. It would make sense if it were an act of play-pretend, just like their mother with Kalluto.

Only, the more time he spent with them both, the more it was becoming quite obvious that he’d been mistaken on that front as well. Killua wouldn’t insist on something that wasn’t true, nor would Alluka play along with a lie.

Killua had always said he knew Alluka best. Apparently, he’d been right. In this case, it was clear that the rest of the family was mistaken. This wasn’t a case of a boy playing dress up, like it was with him.

Alluka was a girl, and he could understand that now.

“Where are they?” Alluka wondered, and then she groaned. “Ugh…if I find them making out in some closet again, I swear I’m gonna—”

“What did you just say?” Surely, Kalluto had misheard.

Alluka blinked, seeming startled, as if she’d briefly forgotten his presence. “Um! Nothing. Hey, I think I see them!”

Kalluto let the subject drop, as he’d caught sight of them as well; Killua’s hair tended to stand out amongst a crowd, especially as he’d shot up in height over the past few years. 

Alluka caught their attention by waving her arms in the air, and they made their way over. As Gon and Killua approached, Kalluto noticed something odd; their hands were intertwined. It seemed like a natural gesture, as if they often walked together like this.

“Why are you holding hands?” Kalluto asked bluntly.

Gon began to answer. “Because we’re—”

“We didn’t want to lose each other in the crowd,” Killua interrupted.

“Uh, yeah!” Gon agreed. “That’s why.”

It was a blatantly obvious lie.

Kalluto couldn’t imagine that they found themselves convincing, either, so why go to the effort? Forget it. He had more important things to worry about than whatever this was.

The airship, which had been slowly descending this whole time, came at last to a gentle stop on the ocean. Outside the windows, snow was still coming down heavily. Who knew when the storm would cease?

Kalluto remained silent until they claimed a place to sit, a booth by the windows which was relatively far away from any of the other passengers.

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” He asked his brother, in case he had any idea.

Killua shrugged one shoulder. “Who knows?”

Gon seemed to take pity on him. “The pilots are probably worried about running into sky whales, which are pretty common around these parts. See, the whales like to hunt during storms, and we’d never see one coming when the conditions are like this…”

“We could be stuck here for hours.”

“Yeah, we might be.”

Kalluto itched to move; he wanted to pace, to use up some of his restless energy. As that would be an obvious sign of his agitated state of mind, he settled instead for discreetly tapping his foot at a rapid rate his heart threatened to match. 

“Illumi doesn’t have time for this.”

“Calm down,” Killua said. Kalluto resented his cool composure, as if it didn’t even matter to him what the outcome was. “It’ll only delay us a few hours, most likely.”

“And that could make all the difference!”

Killua huffed a slow breath through his nose. “What do you want me to do, Kalluto? I can’t control the weather.”

You’re being unreasonable, was what he didn’t say, but Kalluto heard it regardless. Ironically, Illumi would think the same thing, except he would just say it outright. Don’t be irrational, Kal. A good assassin waits for as long as necessary.

Kalluto closed his eyes and forcibly regained control over himself. When he opened them again, his emotions were buried deep enough for him to only feel a shadow of them. “I know. Apologies for being irrational.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that.” Killua shook his head, seeming conflicted. “It’s fine. I know you’re worried. I…” he trailed off, not seeming to know how to finish that sentence.

“Brother, let’s grab some snacks and drinks for everyone,” Alluka said, rescuing him from his awkward state.

“Great idea,” he said at once, already springing to his feet. “What do you all want?”

After orders had been taken, they went off, leaving Kalluto alone with Gon. Suddenly, he missed being left in the company of Alluka. She’d been surprisingly easy to get along with, once he’d given her a chance, but he could hardly stand to look at Gon.

Don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk to—

“Is Killua your favorite sibling?”

Gon must be immune to social cues—that, or he simply didn’t care. As Kalluto glared at him in response, Gon only looked back calmly, and he decided it must be the latter. The imprudence was far more infuriating here than it had been with Alluka. 

“I don’t have a favorite sibling,” he said.

A lie. It had always been Killua. 

Embarrassing as it was when Killua clearly didn’t feel the same, he couldn’t help it.

Kalluto could actually rank his siblings quite easily. Killua, then Illumi, then…hm. He’d always put Alluka last, and yet somehow he couldn’t do that anymore. After only a day of getting to know Alluka better, he’d already mentally categorized her above Milluki.

That doesn’t mean anything, he reasoned. You’ve never gotten along with Milluki that well.

“Killua’s my favorite, too,” Gon said absurdly.

“I never said his name. Stop putting words in my mouth.”

“That was just my impression,” Gon replied. “But I don’t think I’m wrong.”

If this was how Gon wanted to play it, then so be it. Kalluto would not hold back.

“What is your relationship with my brother?”

“Killua’s my best friend,” Gon said easily. “I love him a lot.”

Was Gon being purposefully obtuse, or was he honestly that stupid?

“Are the two of you together?” Kalluto pushed.

“A lot of the time, sure!”

He had to be doing this on purpose.

“Are you in a romantic or sexual relationship with my brother?”

Gon stared blankly at him for a long moment, finally seeming caught off-guard, and then he started laughing. “Sorry, that was rude,” he said, a bit breathlessly. “I just…did you have to phrase it that way? It could be both, you know.”

“And/or,” Kalluto corrected—if he weren't absolutely positive that Killua would kill him for it, he’d show Gon Freecss his claws.

“Okay,” Gon said, nodding his stupid head appeasingly. “Then I’ll say…that’s none of your business. Sorry!”

“You’re obnoxious,” Kalluto said. A dam had broken, and he couldn’t stop his unfiltered thoughts from breaking through anymore—nor did he want to. “I have no idea what my brother sees in you.”

“I wonder about that too, sometimes,” Gon said thoughtfully. “I feel very fortunate that he’s stuck by me even after everything we’ve been through together.”

“You stole him from us,” Kalluto accused—he wasn’t done. “If it weren’t for you, then everything would be perfect.”

Gon frowned. “I think you know that’s not true. Killua wasn’t happy at home…and what about Alluka and Nanika? Do you honestly wish your siblings were still miserable and trapped in lives they didn’t want?”

There was no way for him to answer that question without looking like an evil fiend. Somehow, he had been outplayed. The indignity was nearly too much to bear; he could only be grateful there were no witnesses to their conversation.

When he said nothing, Gon went on. “Have you ever thought about leaving?”

Kalluto couldn’t say he hadn’t; nor could he say that he had.

Joining the Spiders a few years back had been an exercise in independence. For the year before Illumi had joined them as well, Kalluto had been left largely to his own devices. He hadn’t hated the experience…it had been jarring, though. The Spiders were a very different kind of family than the Zoldycks, and he’d never fully meshed with their mentality.

Kalluto hadn’t mourned them when they’d begun to die. After the total dissolution of the group, he hadn’t felt much of anything other than grateful to still be alive.

After Illumi had informed him of Killua’s bold return to the estate that had ended in a successful handover of Alluka, he’d occasionally thought about the two of them. He’d wondered where they were, what they were doing…if he ever crossed Killua’s mind, or if his brother was too busy looking after Alluka to even think about him for a second.

Kalluto had never seriously considered leaving the main family to join them, though. Why would he? His life was stable, predictable. He had a solid place in the family, and his position had only become more important after Killua had left. In the end, perhaps it came down to his stubborn sense of pride. Kalluto refused to shirk his familial duty the same way Killua had, especially when it was more likely than not that his brother didn’t even want to see him anyway. 

He wouldn’t go where he wasn’t wanted, and he had no desire to wander the world alone.

“No,” Kalluto finally answered; he didn’t know if it was a lie or not.

Thankfully, Gon subsided after that, granting him a few minutes of peace before Killua and Alluka returned bearing a small mountain of snacks alongside their drinks. 

Killua had bought himself some kind of hot chocolate monstrosity with an absurd amount of whipped cream, the whole thing drizzled with chocolate syrup and topped with sliced almonds: there was even what appeared to be a straw made out of a candy cane.

In contrast, Alluka seemed to have gotten a normal hot chocolate, while Gon had…a suspiciously green and lumpy drink. What is that?

His brother was eyeing the green drink with disgust as Gon slurped it up enthusiastically. “Personally, I don’t know how you can stand those things…”

“Green smoothies are super tasty!” Gon defended. “And they’re really good for you, too.”

In a strange moment of unison, everyone stared at Killua’s horrible hot chocolate concoction. 

“This is good for the soul,” Killua insisted stubbornly. He had whipped cream on his nose.

“I have no idea how you haven’t gotten a million cavities by now,” Alluka said, shaking her head.

“None of us get cavities,” Killua pointed out. “Zoldyck family genetics…gotta have strong enamel if you’re an assassin. The better to rip out someone’s throat, or whatever.”

“Have you ever done that?” Gon asked, tilting his head to one side in genuine curiosity.

Killua made a face. “Ew, no. That sounds like a great way to get a disease.”

“Oh.”

“Are you…disappointed?”

“No, of course not!”

Alluka leaned forward. “You did sound a bit let down.”

“I’m not—I mean, I guess it would've been kinda cool,” Gon said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Killua scoffed. “Do you think I’m some wild animal?”

“No!” Though Kalluto wasn’t sure how the conversation had become so derailed, he admittedly was enjoying seeing Gon be embarrassed. “I would never think that—”

“I know,” Killua replied, leaning back with a superior expression. “I was just teasing you.”

“That’s mean…”

As the conversation died down—now Gon and Killua seemed to be kicking each other under the table in lieu of talking, like a couple of five-year-olds—Kalluto felt a fresh wave of dread wash over him as he recalled exactly why he was here. He didn’t know how he could’ve forgotten for even a minute the urgency of his mission. 

Illumi was dying, and all he could do was sit here and listen to these idiots talk nonsense.

“Are you okay?” Alluka spoke softly enough that the two fools sitting across the booth didn’t even take notice. It was…thoughtful on her part.

“Fine,” he replied. “Just thinking.”

Kalluto hadn’t been thinking so much as spiraling, but the question brought him out of his head enough that his brain began working properly again. 

“I’m going to call Milluki now,” he informed the table at large. “Our family should be updated on the situation.”

“Fair enough,” Killua said evenly. He sounded different than he had only a minute ago, clearly slipping back into business mode. “You can call him here, if you want.”

A veiled request; call him here so we can listen in.

Kalluto saw no reason to decline, as he had nothing to hide, so he simply nodded before dialling Milluki’s number.

Milluki picked up on the third ring. “Any issues with the compass?”

“No. I’m here with Killua and Alluka…and Gon Freecss.”

“Great. So why are you calling?”

“Is Illumi still alive?”

“Of course,” Milluki replied promptly. The flood of relief which followed was a rush of blood to the head—if he’d been standing, he might’ve even swayed on his feet. “Pro-tip; if he’d died, his image would’ve faded from the compass.”

Kalluto turned to his brother. “Compass,” he hissed urgently.

Looking puzzled, Killua nonetheless obeyed, taking the compass out of his bag. Kalluto snatched hold of it, tilting it to see better under the light. Illumi’s face was just as dark as all the others, and he almost sagged in relief.

Irritation took over after a few heartbeats—because why had Milluki withheld this vital information from him? “It would’ve been helpful if you had mentioned that sooner.”

“There was no need. He won’t die.”

“The airship we’re on is experiencing a delay due to inclement weather,” Kalluto said, swallowing his complaints in order to return to the main point. “Whiteout conditions. I’m not sure how long we’ll be stuck here. In the worst case, it may be several days before we arrive.”

“Hm.” There was a prominent pause. “That’s…not ideal.”

“How is he?”

“Still breathing,” Milluki replied unhelpfully. “You can put the phone on speaker, if Killua and the thing are there with you.”

It took Kalluto a second to decipher what he meant. When he understood, he was surprised by the spike of irritation he felt at the casual lack of respect.

“There’s no need to call her that.”

Killua clearly picked up on what Kalluto’s words implied, and his eyes sharpened as he turned a deadly glare on the phone.

“Her?” Milluki chuckled dryly. “Killua must’ve gotten to you, huh. Don’t let him influence you too much. You can’t forget what kind of creature is hiding under that cute shell.”

“I’m putting the phone on speaker now,” Kalluto replied shortly; he was annoyed enough to rather enjoy the idea of Killua verbally eviscerating their older brother.

Milluki’s voice sounded from the phone. “Hey, Kil.”

“So how bad is it, really?” Killua asked, cutting right to business. It was more professional than Kalluto had learned to expect from him, but he supposed some of the old Killua lingered even now. “Kalluto’s been pretty vague.”

There was a sound that might’ve been a snort. “He looks kind of like a shriveled up potato, all covered in vines and shit. Dad thinks he must’ve picked up something nasty from the Dark Continent that lay dormant until recently.”

Killua went visibly tense under the weight of the words while Kalluto suppressed a shiver, blinking away the horrid memory again. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Killua managed to say after a moment. Suddenly he looked over at Kalluto, sharp eyes examining him intently. He looked almost afraid. “What about Kalluto? If that’s the case, then he could be at risk too.”

In all honesty, that hadn’t even occurred to him.

Kalluto did a brief self-inventory. He felt perhaps a little more tired than usual, likely from the aftermath of that ordeal with the thorn, though it could just be the stress of the situation. Apart from the slight heaviness of his body and mind, nothing felt different from normal.

“I feel fine,” he said.

Killua gave him a doubting look. “Sure, but you’d also say that if you were secretly bleeding out, so your words don’t hold much weight here.”

Though that wasn’t the most accurate statement of his character, it also wasn’t far off. Which meant Killua…had been paying attention to him, at least to some degree. Killua even seemed like he might be concerned about him. The thought made something tighten in his chest.

“He’s fine,” Milluki dismissed. “I think we’d see the effects by now.”

“It’s been over a year since the survivors returned,” Killua argued. “Already, that’s a pretty long delay. How can we be sure Kalluto’s safe?”

A slighter longer pause, punctuated by the faint crackle of static.

“I said, he’s fine.” Milluki’s voice was colder than usual, almost robotic. Kalluto felt a chill run up his spine. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I see you’re as caring as always,” Killua said sarcastically. “Is that everything, then? I’d rather spend as little time talking to you as possible, all things considered.”

“The feeling’s mutual, brat,” Milluki snapped, which was more like himself. “Get here as soon as possible. If you’re taking a slow pace on purpose and he dies before you get here…better to not show up at all.”

With that supremely subtle threat, he hung up.

Killua rolled his eyes. “What a dick…his attitude makes me rethink this whole thing.”

Panic squeezed his lungs. “You already agreed to—”

“Yeah, I know,” his brother interrupted. “We’re not turning back. Don’t forget, we’re getting something out of this too.”

Right. The deal to never be involved with anyone in the family ever again…

Did that deal include him? He hadn’t thought to ask at the time.

Kalluto had agreed to the deal without thinking. Anything, to save Illumi. He hadn’t thought he’d cared beyond that, but maybe he’d been lying to himself. The thought of never seeing Killua again, of never getting a real chance to get to know either of these siblings…

The heaviness inside him only grew, until he felt he’d sink to the bottom of the ocean. And still, Kalluto couldn’t ask; the question was like stones clogging up his stomach. If he tried to get it out, he’d only choke.

🥀🐉🥀

The sickness had struck suddenly.

According to Kikyo, Illumi had been acting completely normal up until the moment he’d collapsed at dinner. It proved fortunate that he was visiting home at the time, as they were able to give him excellent medical care right away.

And yet, nothing the family doctors tried seemed to make any difference in his condition. Days passed, and Illumi still didn’t awaken. An oppressive Nen hovered over him, one that no exorcist could dispel or even make sense of.

Slowly, day by day, Illumi began to change. It was almost unnoticeable at first—just a new tint of green in his fingernails, an unnatural growth to his hair. Soon enough, it became impossible to ignore. Illumi’s eyes were sunken in his skull, tiny vines sprouting out of them and climbing down his face. Thicker tendrils of vines sprouted from various places on his body and grew over him, imprisoning him in a thorny cage. 

Kalluto couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him for long. 

He didn’t know why it was that the longer that he lingered, the worse his head throbbed and the more his heart pounded in his chest. WRONG, WRONG, WRONG, it screamed.

Seeing Illumi in that state—it reminded him horribly of the place he took care never to think about, and the coward that he was, he couldn’t stand it. What Kalluto would never tell his family was that he’d run away not just to save his brother, but also to avoid facing him.

Chapter Text

It was a torturously long twenty-six hours before the storm finally subsided enough for them to continue their journey.

What should have been a three-day flight ended up taking just over four, and half a week of doing nothing wore his nerves to the bone. By the time the airship was finally descending over the landing pad, in yet another torturously slow process, Kalluto was barely aware of his surroundings. His mind was steeped in anxiety such that every minute felt like an hour. 

When he’d given up and checked the compass again, a few hours ago, Illumi’s face had still been dark—but it could’ve blinked out at any time since. He was forcing himself not to check the damn thing constantly, as he knew the action wouldn’t do any good.

He didn’t know what he would do if he failed, what consequences would unfold from there. It didn’t bear thinking about, but his mind ran over all the possibilities anyway. Perhaps he would be grounded from future missions. Perhaps they would demand that he prove his worth by forcing Killua’s return to the family. Surely, they wouldn’t drop him entirely.

It doesn’t matter. I’ll get back in time.

A memory drifted into his mind, of a night when they’d still been on the Black Whale. He’d been unable to sleep, and after lying in his bunk for hours he’d finally asked his brother the question that had been keeping him from finding rest.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected any response. He’d assumed Illumi was already asleep, and that was the only reason he was able to ask. 

“What should I do if Hisoka kills you?”

As his words faded into silence, he’d been startled to hear a reply. 

“Do your best to survive. One of us needs to make it home. In all likelihood both of us will, but you should prioritize your own life above all else.”

Kalluto hadn’t liked hearing that. Something about Illumi’s voice…it was much too casual to be talking about the possibility of his own demise. Almost as if it meant nothing to him.

“Don’t say that. I don’t want to return home without you.”

“I’m going to win, so there’s no need to fret about it, Kal.” A heartbeat later, he’d added offhandedly, “Besides, as long as our family needs me, I won’t die.”

Kalluto had considered that an odd thing to say at the time, especially with the strange surety with which Illumi said it. He might’ve questioned that certainty, but then Illumi had told him to go to sleep in a tone that wasn’t worth disobeying. 

Kalluto couldn't help but wonder now if that powerful conviction was the only thing that kept Illumi hanging onto life. If that was the case, then Illumi would be fine, because Kalluto still needed him. They all needed him, so…he won’t die. He can’t.

At the sudden weight of a hand on his shoulder he spun around instinctively, ready to attack. It was just Killua, though, who was giving him a look he couldn’t decipher. 

“Try to calm down,” his brother instructed. “We’ll be on the ground soon, and then we’re almost home.”

“I am calm.”

Killua raised an eyebrow. “Your claws are out, but sure.”

Shit.

Kalluto hadn’t even noticed he’d been ready to tear his brother’s heart out—not that he would’ve been successful in the attempt. Killua still outclassed him by an impossible degree.

Still, Kalluto flexed his fingers to return them back to normal, and tried for a deep breath.

“Did you even sleep at all last night?”

“A Zoldyck assassin can go for days without sleep.”

Killua made a face, some mixture of embarrassed and annoyed, as he turned to pose a query to Gon. “Please tell me I didn’t use to sound like that…”

Gon shrugged apologetically. “I can’t lie to you.”

“Man…this must be karma,” he grumbled. 

Killua spun back around to give Kalluto a look; something about it was distinctly unpleasant. 

“Okay. Let me tell you something, Kalluto. Zoldyck assassin or not, any significant lack of sleep still fucks you up. It messes with your reflexes, affects your reasoning and emotions…basically what I’m saying is: forget all the bullshit Illumi ever told you.”

“You mean, the ‘bullshit’ that kept me alive?”

Killua dragged a hand down his face. “You little—fuck. I don’t have the patience for this.”

“And I didn’t sign up for a lecture,” Kalluto countered. “I’m perfectly content with my life,” not quite true, but close enough, “and I don’t need you to show me a better path or whatever.”

Killua held his hands back. “Yeah, okay, fine. Unlike your favorite brother, I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life.”

“Illumi isn’t my favorite brother.”

Maybe Killua actually had a point about the hazards of sleep deprivation, because Kalluto certainly hadn’t intended to say that.

Shit shit shit fuck shit.

Even his internal monologue was degrading—how sad.

“Oh, really?” As Killua leaned forward with an obnoxious little grin, Kalluto braced himself for the inevitable mockery that would follow. “So it’s Milluki, then. Damn…honestly, I’m almost judging you harder for that.”

No! It’s you, asshole! 

Fortunately, he wasn’t so far gone as to spill every thought that ran through his mind.

“Shut up,” Kalluto said, looking down in pretend-frustration. 

“Milluki…” he shook his head, amused. “What do the two of you even talk about? Anime?”

“Leave him alone, Killua,” Alluka chided as she came to join them, and he instantly shut up.

While Kalluto had always been a strict rule-follower, in this case he was content ignoring the traditional Zoldyck hierarchy. It wasn’t as if Killua followed any of the other rules, and besides; why should they have to listen to him when he was being so insufferable? 

Illumi is never this annoying, even when he’s acting like an airhead…

Kalluto closed his eyes, willing away thoughts of his older brother. Best not to think, at this point. Thinking was bad and unnecessary. 

Barely a minute later, there was a gentle thud as the airship came to rest on the ground. The nearest train station was a short walk away, for ease of travel; almost before he processed what was happening, the four of them were seated in a booth on the train, bare winter trees rushing by in a blur of gray out the window. 

He’d ended up in an aisle seat, with Alluka directly across from him. Seated next to him was Killua, who sat across from Gon. He couldn’t even remember how they’d worked out the seat assignments…oh well. It wasn’t important.

“You should try to get some sleep, Kallu,” Alluka said gently.

He blinked at her, uncomprehending. “That’s not my name.”

She smiled. “I know. I’m trying out a nickname…do you like it?”

A nickname…he’d never really had one, besides the standard shortening of his name to Kal, which was just for efficiency. Alluka’s invention was almost the same, but something about it sounded softer.

“...It’s fine.”

“Seriously,” Killua added, “you look awful. Take a nap.”

Phrased like that, the order sounded condescending, and he bristled.

“I’m not a five-year-old. I don’t require naps.”

“Really?” Killua tilted his head in an insolent manner, and Kalluto already knew he’d hate the next words out of his mouth. “But you’re so short. I’ve heard sleep helps you grow taller.”

“I am not yet fifteen,” he pointed out, irritated at the unnecessary reminder of just how little he’d grown since they’d last seen each other. “I’ll hit my growth spurt soon.”

“Uh-huh…keep telling yourself that.”

“Brother, you’re being mean again,” Alluka said, reaching across the table to swat him.

After that, his siblings began lightly bickering over the definition of ‘mean’, with Gon serving as mediator of the debate. Since Kalluto truly couldn’t be fucked to listen to such nonsense, he allowed himself to zone out, leaning back against his seat and letting his eyes fall shut.

He hadn’t thought his exhaustion was that severe: perhaps he’d underestimated the soothing effect of conversation as white noise. The next Kalluto knew, he was leaning against a soft surface that didn’t feel like his seat, his head fuzzy from the unexpected sleep.

“Kalluto.” That was what had awoken him. Killua’s voice. “Time to go.”

Kalluto could feel the vibrations of his voice as he spoke, and he abruptly realized it was Killua’s shoulder he was leaning on. He quickly moved back and away, though the damage was already done.

Someone please kill me.

At least Killua seemed to feel similarly mortified, from the traitorous pinkness of his ears. They could simply move on, then. This incident didn’t need to be remarked on.

It was only as they were disembarking that Kalluto grasped what should have been obvious. “I slept for all that time—why did none of you wake me?”

“Clearly, you needed the sleep,” Killua tutted. “We weren’t even trying to be quiet.”

“Besides,” Alluka added, with a smile he somehow didn’t trust. “You looked sooo cute, sleeping on Killua’s shoulder like that! Don’t worry, guys—I got pics!”

“Delete those,” Killua and Kalluto said simultaneously. 

They exchanged an involuntary glance and quickly looked away, while Alluka started giggling.

“You’re both so weird,” she laughed. “It’s not embarrassing to show affection!”

“He wasn’t—”

“That’s not what—”

Horrible. This whole thing was horrible.

Kalluto felt disgustingly exposed, as if his insides had been scraped out for public viewing. 

Bad enough that they’d all seen him sleeping to begin with, but to fall asleep on Killua’s shoulder, of all places? 

It was like Kalluto hadn’t changed at all from the lonely child who’d followed his older brother around like a second shadow, desperately seeking attention he was always too afraid to ask for, and that never would’ve been granted even if he had. 

Always wanting more than he would ever be given. What a fool he was.

At least they were almost home, finally. Soon enough, his life would return to normal. He could leave these awful feelings behind him and move on. Nothing needed to change.

The train dropped them off near the foot of Kukuroo mountain, and from there they caught the tour bus. Kalluto tried to tune out the voice of the cheery tour guide talking about their family as if she had any right to be spouting such nonsense, but by the time they were finally at the gates, his eye was twitching with suppressed irritation. If it wouldn’t cause an unnecessary scene in public, he’d rip her useless heart out here and now.

“Kids, you need to get back on the bus,” the stupid guide, blinking with obvious confusion. “It’s too dangerous to go any further! These people won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Killua smiled brightly, a rather unnerving look. “Thanks, ma’am, but we’re good!”

While Kalluto wouldn’t admit it, he was a little impressed to see the tour guide get back on the bus after that without another word. Apparently, a smile could work as well as a threat if one knew what they were doing. 

As the bus left them behind, Zebro emerged from his office. “Goodness, look at all of you! Well done, Master Kalluto.”

“Thank you,” Kalluto said automatically. “How is Illumi?”

He immediately felt stupid for asking; Zebro was only the gatekeeper, he wouldn’t be privy to such family matters.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any news for you,” Zebro said gravely, shifting his gaze over to encompass Killua and Alluka as well. “Though in this case, I believe no news is good news.”

“Well, we’re here now,” Killua said. “He can last another fifteen minutes.”

Zebro nodded. It seemed like he was about to step away, but then he said, “Welcome back, Master Killua. You look well.”

“...Thanks, but don’t expect me to return anytime soon. This is a one-time thing.”

“Hi, Zebro!” Gon said with a cheery wave.

“Good to see you again, Gon.” Zebro smiled as he looked between him and Killua: a warmer expression than Kalluto had seen on the man before. “I’m glad to see you and Killua are still good friends. I’ll never forget how determined he was to come see you all those years ago.”

Killua glanced briefly at Gon, something in his eyes so soft and unguarded that Kalluto had to look away.

“Yeah, he’s an idiot like that,” he said, with disgusting fondness: as Gon smiled back at him, something passed between them that made Kalluto look away.

Ugh, gross.

After that whole unnecessary display, Zebro wished them luck before retreating back to the guardhouse. It was time to open the gates. Killua immediately stepped forward to do so, something that Kalluto had no objection to—at another time, he might’ve wanted to show off his strength, but that was a petty concern right now. 

Interestingly, Gon insisted on opening the gates with Killua, each of them taking one half.

Gon’s not weak, at least, Kalluto thought, watching Gon push his half of the gate open with relative ease. Though naturally, he couldn’t open as many of the gates as Killua. Still can’t measure up to him…but I suppose my brother could’ve chosen worse.

They hiked up the rest of the path in silence that grew increasingly tense as the vertical wall of the mountain loomed ever-larger over them. 

When they at last arrived at the massive doors which led into the mountain itself, Killua paused with his hand on the door handle, seemingly frozen in place for a reason Kalluto couldn’t fathom. Before he could snap at him to hurry up, his brother tugged the door open with violent force.

Darkness poured out of the house through the open doorway, billowing clouds of inky black even darker than night, impossibly void.

That was the first sign something was wrong.

The second sign was the aura that came right after the darkness, instantly casting a crushingly heavy and ominous spell over them. It felt like…he recognized this feeling from the Dark Continent expedition, though he couldn’t recall specifically where or when.

Gon turned sharply to Killua, a sudden sharp wildness in his eyes. “It feels like—”

“I know,” Killua hissed back. “It’s not him, but whatever it is…” he shook his head, as if shaking off a memory, before glancing at all of them with a finger held to his lips; let’s be quiet, for now.

That was a good idea; they didn’t know what lay ahead.

Kalluto’s stomach twisted with nerves as they crept through the dark halls. All of the hallway lanterns were out…the only light came from the two flashlights Gon had produced from his backpack.

After a minute he realized that Killua was leading them to the main control room of the house, which was another smart move. He felt stupid for not thinking of it himself; from there, they would likely be able to obtain a better picture of what exactly was happening.

When they arrived at the control room, the computers were all on, their bluish light illuminating the room in an eerie glow. Unfortunately, on second glance the screens all showed only static.

Kalluto’s heart leapt as he saw someone slumped in a chair near one corner. Even from the back of his head, it was obviously Milluki.

When he was about to approach, a hand on his arm stopped him.

Killua shook his head, giving him a glance that clearly communicated stay here.

Fine.

Kalluto stayed obediently rooted in place as Killua walked forward, stopping short to grab one arm of the computer chair and spin it around so that Milluki was facing them.

When Kalluto saw his brother’s face, for a moment he couldn’t breathe. 

Milluki’s eyes were closed, and from beneath them came dozens of tiny vines, like feelers. They were visible in the skin of his eyelids, sticking up like veins. The tendrils ran from his eyes all the way down his face, and they were moving ever so slightly as if caught in a faint breeze. Those weren’t the only vines on him, either. Thicker ones were wrapped around his arms and neck, effectively tying him down to his chair, while some of the largest ones vanished into the mess of wires below the computer consoles.

Milluki was still breathing, in the slow rhythm of a sleeping man, but that was small comfort.

Just like Illumi looked earlier on—is the curse contagious? What’s going on?

“Well. This is fucked.”

It was almost jarring to hear Killua speak—or maybe it was the manner in which he spoke, the too-casual tone. Like none of this was happening, or like he wasn’t even concerned at all. Kalluto was annoyed by his composure, but at the same time Killua’s calm helped settle the jittery panic of his thoughts.

“So we can talk now?” Kalluto asked.

“Seeing how those things are hooked into the computers…” Killua gestured to the mess of vines tangled with wires. “I’m willing to bet the enemy can already hear us. It’s probably been keeping tabs on us ever since we came inside.”

“And that doesn’t faze you?” Kalluto was stunned by his seeming indifference. Did he even care at all? “Look at him! Can Nanika even fix this?”

“I was about to ask,” Killua said, looking at Alluka. “Nanika, can—”

Nanika was already opening her pitch-black eyes.

A shiver ran down his spine at the sight of those starkly inhuman eyes. Admittedly, he was less intimidated than he’d been as a child—he had the Dark Continent expedition to thank for that. He’d seen worse than this black-hole face, but it remained unsettling.

“Hi, Nanika,” Killua said, totally unbothered. “Is it possible for you to…reverse all of this?”

Nanika paused, and then shook its head. “Sorry,” it said, sounding oddly…upset? “Not here. Deep roots…can only be pulled at the source.”

“That must be Illumi,” Kalluto concluded. Steeling himself, he turned to Nanika and asked, “So if you heal Illumi, everything else will go back to normal?”

“Ai,” Nanika hummed in affirmation.

“Great,” Killua said. “Thanks, Nanika.” He gave the creature a head pat, which it accepted with a happy smile, pushing into his hand slightly like the world’s creepiest cat.

Alluka returned shortly after, and instantly asked, “What did I miss?”

“We just have to get to Illumi, and then it’s game over,” Killua informed her. “Piece of cake.”

Alluka frowned. “Don’t jinx it, brother.”

“Illumi was staying in the quarantine room,” Kalluto said, already walking back into the hallway—this was no time for chit-chat. “He should still be there.”

This time, Killua let him take the lead, though his brother stayed just a step behind. It was a reassurance to have him here; this was one situation Kalluto couldn’t possibly handle alone.

The hallways seemed even darker somehow, though Kalluto knew it could only be a trick of the mind. After seeing Milluki’s current state, every shadow contained creeping vines; it was with significant effort that he kept his breathing steady.

“Kalluto,” Killua said after a while. “This is important—do you remember any point during your time in the Dark Continent when Illumi might have become cursed?”

That whole continent was cursed. 

An unpleasant array of images flashed through his mind, a slideshow of horrors, but after a minute his mind settled firmly on a particular memory. 

It was the most unsettling memory of them all, and one that he still couldn’t fully remember, even now. He knew he should be alarmed at how fuzzy the memory was in his mind, how strangely blurred around the edges, but truthfully he was fine with the vagueness.

Some things were better left forgotten.

Kalluto swallowed hard and forced himself to answer the question. “Near the ruins of the botanical city of Brion…we were avoiding that place, but then Illumi and I were separated from the group. We became lost, and wandered too close by mistake. One of the city’s guardians found us. We took shelter in a cave, but then we were trapped by vines.”

His memory ended there. Echoes of past feelings rose to the surface, of the suffocation and disbelief at being trapped and soon to die. He’d thought they were doomed.

“That sounds rough,” Killua said, seeming genuinely sympathetic. “What happened next? How’d you get out of there?” 

“I—I don’t remember.”

“Kalluto…I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t important.”

“I don't,” he snapped. 

It was the truth—his memory ended there, and it hurt to think any more about it. Something horrible lurked at the edges, but as long as he didn’t go there, he was safe. They’d survived it, hadn’t they? Somehow, someway, they’d made it out—that was the only thing that mattered.

His head pulsed with pain, and he rubbed at his forehead until the ache subsided. It doesn’t matter. If it was important, then I wouldn’t have forgotten it.

“Why does it matter? Nanika will heal him regardless.”

Alluka nudged Killua’s side. “He’s right. Why are you being pushy?”

Killua shook his head. “Sorry,” he said to Kalluto, the apology so unexpected he could only stare blankly in response. “I’m not trying to stress you out. There’s just something here that feels off to me, and I was hoping more information would clarify things.”

Kalluto stared fixedly at the stone floor. Dark shapes swam before his eyes in the shadows. He blinked, and they were gone.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just…don’t know.”

“It’s fine, okay,” Killua replied awkwardly. 

Something lightly touched his shoulder—a hand, most likely—and then quickly retreated. 

They continued walking through the halls in silence. As they drew closer to the quarantine room, Kalluto dared to hope that they wouldn’t run into anyone else.

Unfortunately, they had no such luck.

In the hallway right outside the door to the quarantine room stood Silva, leaning solidly against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. It appeared he was guarding the entrance; while his eyes were closed, his aura spiked menacingly as they approached.

“Hey there, dad,” Killua said. “Been a while. Mind letting us in?”

Silva’s eyes opened, and Kalluto nearly screamed in shock.

His eyes were glowing a vivid, poisonous green. It was the same shade as the eyes of the guardian, a color Kalluto had never managed to forget. He saw it often in his more unpleasant dreams, but this was worse than anything his mind could imagine.

“Welcome home, Kil,” Silva greeted with a nod, and the very worst thing was that he sounded so normal. “Kal. I see you’ve succeeded in your mission. Good work.”

“Thanks, father,” Kalluto murmured, dropping his gaze; he couldn’t meet those eyes anymore. “Could you let us in now?

“I’m afraid not,” Silva replied, and his heart sank.

Please, he wanted to ask, but he knew that would do no good. One of his earliest lessons had been in the uselessness of pleading for anything. Begging is for the weak, Illumi had said. A Zoldyck is strong enough to overcome any pain.

“Okayyy,” Killua said with a huge sigh. “Sorry about this, but you’re gonna thank me later.”

That being said, he lashed out with a sudden bolt of lightning.

Silva was already halfway across the hallway, and he returned fire with a ball of aura. When Killua naturally dodged that as well, the Nen obliterated a solid portion of the wall.

This much Nen…dad’s aiming to kill. No. Not Silva. Whatever thing is inside him—that’s what wants us dead.

“You’re wrecking your own house!” Killua shouted. “Come on! This is ridiculous!”

While Silva was distracted by Killua’s shouting and charging up for another attack, Gon kicked him hard from behind. Silva went flying, and as he hit the ground Killua ended the fight with a simple chop to the back of the neck.

It had taken less than a minute for the two of them to defeat the head of the Zoldyck family. Of course, the fight would’ve been a different matter entirely if Silva were in his right mind, but it was still shocking to witness.

“...Should we tie him up?” Gon asked, glancing at Killua.

Killua considered that for a moment, but then shook his head. “Nah. He’d break out of any chains we put him in. Let’s just get this done fast before he wakes up.”

As soon as they walked into the room, Kalluto’s eyes immediately jumped to Illumi lying on the bed. He didn’t notice anyone else was there until Killua said, heavily, 

“Shit.”

Kikyo was perched on a chair beside the bed, in plain sight. Though the quarantine room was as unlit as everywhere else, Kalluto still had no idea how he’d missed her.

“My boys!” Kikyo called out, springing up from the chair.

She sounded normal too, but of course that meant nothing. As she rushed forward, Kalluto stiffened in preparation of attack, slipping a hand into his pocket for his fan; he refused to be useless during this fight.

All she did, though, was fold him into a hug.

Kalluto couldn’t help the ragged sigh that escaped him, nor could he resist melting into her embrace. Hugs were rare among the Zoldycks, even when it came to Kikyo; for all her loud affection, he could only recall a few times in his life when he’d received a hug like this.

Kikyo released him after another moment and reached her arms out entreatingly to Killua, who instantly hopped backwards in response.

“Stay back,” he said coldly, holding a hand out in clear threat. “Come any closer and I’ll stab you again.”

“Oh, but Kil, it’s been so long,” Kikyo lamented. “Won’t you hug your dear mother?”

Killua laughed sharply. “You’ve got vines all over you…so, no thanks.” Quieter, he muttered, “Not like I’d want to anyway.”

Kalluto blinked in shock and looked at her more closely. 

The room was brighter than it should be, considering the only light source was their flashlights. This was because of how Kikyo glowed faintly, haloed with Nen—and unlike her usual red-purple aura, the light she gave off was a sickly green.

Under such dim lighting the vines on her didn’t stand out, but now that Killua had drawn his attention to them, they were impossible to unsee. More delicate than even the ones that grew on Milluki, the vines on Kikyo wove across the fabric of her dress in patterns that naturally blended in with the preexisting design, wrapping her body in living lace up to her neck.

If not for their sinister nature, the vines might have looked beautiful—as it was, they appeared utterly grotesque. 

“You’ve always treated me with such disrespect,” Kikyo said, and in her voice Kalluto recognized the familiar slide from sweet affection to bitter anger. “What have I done to deserve a child like you? Only coming home after Kalluto drags you back—”

“God, you never shut up!” Killua snapped. “You should be grateful I came back at all. Now get out of the way so Nanika can heal your stupid son.”

Small tendrils of green began creeping down Kikyo’s face, growing out from underneath her visor. So they were under there all along, Kalluto thought heavily. He’d hoped their mother wasn’t as badly affected as Silva had been, but that was a foolish delusion.

Kikyo took another step forward while Killua stepped back, both of their Nen starting to flare around them. Her aura was alarming to witness, the unnatural quality of it making him feel increasingly sick. 

This is a waste of time! I need to stop them.

“Mother,” Kalluto said urgently—perhaps she’d still listen to him.

Kikyo actually stopped moving forward, and as she turned to look at him, her aura settled slightly. “What is it, Kal?”

“I apologize for Killua’s disrespect,” he began, bowing his head.

“Dear, that’s not something you should apologize for.”

“Please let us through,” Kalluto continued; begging might be for the weak, but he wasn’t sure what else to do at this point. Their mother had always liked it when they were polite to her, and if the words came from him, she might listen.  “We’re only here to heal Illumi. I know you want to see him get better too.”

Seeming in a trance, Kikyo pivoted slowly on her heel and walked back to the bed, leaving Killua’s tense form forgotten behind her. Now she only had eyes for her eldest child. Reaching down, Kikyo gently trailed a hand over his shoulder. Shrouded in darkness as he was, the twisted wrongness of Illumi’s body was less visible, but still clearly apparent.

“Illumi…” she said softly. “My eldest son…”

“Mother,” Kalluto said again. “Please, let us heal him.”

Kikyo drew away again and placidly sat back down. The vines over her face retreated slowly back under the visor, subdued for now. “Okay, Kal…what a good brother you are.”

I hope you will not regret it.

He blinked. “Did you say something just now?”

Kikyo tilted her head slightly in dazed confusion. “No.”

“I—okay. Thanks,” he said quickly, because Killua was giving him a look that said ‘shut up before she changes her mind’.

They all walked over to flank Illumi on the bed. As Alluka closed her eyes, Nanika woke up, turning that creepy face to him expectantly 

He felt an unwanted sting of fear. “Killua, why is she looking at me like that?”

“Because it’s your wish,” his brother answered simply. “It’s easy. Just ask for Illumi to be healed, and she’ll take it from there.”

Kalluto breathed in deep and pushed down his unease. “Okay…” Turning to Nanika, he asked, “Nanika, can you please heal Illumi?”

“Aye,” Nanika said, nodding. “Hand.”

“She wants you to give her Illumi’s hand,” Killua clarified.

To do so, he finally was forced to closely look at the body on the bed. Kalluto allowed himself a single second of weakness before turning his gaze to his brother. Immediately, a sickness twisted in his stomach, something feverishly hot and wrong, as if the vines were growing inside him again.

How ridiculous to feel this way. He was fine.

Illumi, on the other hand…could what he was looking at even be classified as a human anymore? He more closely resembled a shriveled-up root, a semblance of a man made of branches and vines. Endless green tendrils twisted over him, spilling out of his mouth and his eyes and his ears, entombing his whole body in a living cage.

An aura that was not his own hung over him: the same sickly green that consumed Kikyo and Silva and Milluki, only a thousand times more potent. It was so much worse than it had been before, grown into something heavy and stinking and poisonous, a nightmare become real.

“Kalluto,” his brother said softly, and he snapped out of his trance.

Steeling himself, Kalluto reached forward in search of anything that could be defined as a hand among the wreckage. He managed to find one, and after untangling it from the mess of thorns, he was relieved to see the hand still looked somewhat normal. He could ignore the roughness of it, how it felt almost like bark. Thorns grew from the knuckles, but that was fine.

This was Illumi’s hand, long and thin and strong; and still warm, with a soft, irregular pulse thrumming under the skin of the wrist.

When Kalluto placed the hand in Nanika’s waiting one, what happened next was indescribable. A strange aura flooded over them, and it felt like they passed through the heart of a star, while somehow surviving unharmed.

And then the bright aura faded to nothing. In its absence the room seemed incredibly dark. Kalluto blinked a few times, but his eyes were slow to adjust.

A quiet mutter of “Fuck this,” came from Killua, and electricity sparked near the wall above the bed. He’d re-lit the lantern hung there, and now it burned with a fresh blue flame.

Below that harsh light they finally were granted a clear view of the bed, but something looked wrong. The vines were all gone—and so was the body. That doesn’t make sense. Kalluto couldn’t understand. 

Illumi’s head was right there, his eyes open wide and staring right at them. So why wasn’t he saying anything? And where had his body gone? Why was it only his head? 

Nothing made sense. He didn’t understand anything.

“Oh, fuck,” Killua said quietly, his voice choked and wrong. “No. He’s not—Kalluto!”

Kalluto kept staring at the bed, waiting. Eventually it would all make sense. Nanika’s power must take some time. Soon it would—Illumi’s body would be there, he would speak to them, he would be alive. Hadn’t he said he wouldn’t die?

Each second dragged into the next and still, nothing changed. The longer he looked into Illumi’s blank eyes, the more his head started to pound, until it was throbbing horribly with every heartbeat. 

WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.

Something is missing. A stab of pain accompanied the thought in emphasis. What is it? What am I missing? There’s something I’m forgetting, but what? What is it that I can’t remember?

The more his thoughts ran obsessively in circles, the worse the pain, which was increasingly concentrated at a point in the center of his forehead. It felt like he’d been pierced by a thorn—or a needle.

A needle.

Instinct made him move faster than thought—he reached toward his head with fingers sharpened into points and pulled.

Killua seemed to be saying something loudly, but he ignored the distant noise in  favor of examining the object he’d just removed. There it is.

In his hand lay a bloody needle.

As Kalluto looked from the needle back to Illumi’s severed head, he stared into unseeing eyes and at last—he remembered.

🐉🥀🐉

“This isn’t good,” Illumi said blandly.

That was very much an understatement.

The vines were growing thicker and faster around the entrance to the cave, cutting them off from escape, and the confined air was beginning to smell rancid. Kalluto didn’t like that they were breathing it in without a mask, but seeing as earlier they’d been cut off from the rest of their group, leaving them without supplies or backup, he didn’t have much choice. 

Still, Kalluto hadn’t been seriously concerned until now, because for the first time he could remember Illumi seemed apprehensive. His brother’s forehead wrinkled in consternation as he gently flicked a thin needle back and forth between his hands, seeming deep in thought. It was smaller than his other needles, and Kalluto wondered at the use for it.

Before long there was no more time for thought, as the writhing wall of plants grew ever-closer, encroaching on the last remaining space. Both of them lashed out repeatedly with their Nen, to varying results. 

Kalluto’s paper proved to be nearly useless here. These damned plants were tougher than even a chimera ant’s armor; it would take far too long for him to make any dent in them. Illumi was moderately more successful, in that he was able to make the vines retreat slightly, but even his superior power wasn’t enough to make a real difference.

Illumi retreated to join Kalluto against the farthest corner of the cave, the last space granted to them. Kalluto looked to him for instruction, but Illumi just looked at the vines with an utterly unreadable expression. After a second, his eyes glazed over, and he reached out slowly to touch the closest vine.

“What are you doing?” Kalluto asked, puzzled by the odd action. Illumi remained silent, staring with eerie blankness at the vines that caged them. “Illumi. Now isn’t the time to…”

Illumi drew his hand away and finally blinked, his gaze sharpening back to normal.

“Hm,” he said. “I see. No way out but through.”

Kalluto didn’t understand what he was saying. “What do you mean?”

Swiftly, Illumi’s hand flew out and tossed the needle he’d been holding. The thin golden needle was embedded in Kalluto’s forehead before he could even think to dodge, and he fell instantly to his knees.

A thousand thoughts ran through his head at once. 

Movement was impossible and his Nen had immediately been forced into Zetsu. He sensed that he could still speak, though. Was it one of those needles, then? Kalluto had seen Illumi use them on people for interrogations, and had even experienced the effect once himself, so he knew the Nen would wear off in about an hour.

Generally, the effects of those needles were harmless, but that was far from the case here. In this dangerous situation, why would Illumi ensure he couldn’t defend himself?

Besides the obvious, something felt strange. When he flicked his eyes up to look at his own forehead, rather than the glint of gold, he saw nothing—the needle had sunk fully inside his head, leaving no visible trace behind. 

An interior needle? Illumi only used those in very special circumstances, like with Killua.

“Illumi,” he said slowly, trying to stay calm. “What have you done?”

Illumi looked back at him, and it was impossible to guess what he was thinking. Seeing that blank expression, Kalluto felt almost sick with fear, though the feeling made no sense to him. They were a team, after all, and he trusted Illumi. He knew his brother would never do anything to put his life at risk, but his behavior here made no sense.

“I put a special kind of Nen in that needle,” Illumi said. “You won’t remember any of this later.” 

Kalluto looked up again briefly. The needle was still invisible, he couldn’t even feel it, but he knew Illumi wouldn’t lie to him about the effects. Even as a bone-deep dread creeped into him from Illumi’s cryptic words, he forced his breathing to remain steady.

“I don’t get it. What’s your plan?”

“The guardian needs a sacrifice,” Illumi explained, far too calmly. “The vines wouldn’t stop until both of us were dead, but I’ve made a deal with it. You’re going to be fine.”

He began walking forward, and for him, the vines parted easily, forming a path through the thick tangle. A path to his death.

Dread sparked into molten-hot panic.

“Stop! Illumi, get back here now!”

Illumi paused, glancing back, but made no move to come closer. “Sorry. I can’t.”

Kalluto felt the wild urge to scream. Usually, Illumi’s apologies had no weight, but there was an unmistakable gravity to his statement now that set Kalluto’s heart pounding. He knew what it meant; nothing he could say would make his brother change his mind. 

“You can’t leave me,” he demanded, unable to stop himself. “I refuse to return home without you. Release me right this instant, brother!”

“I’m not doing that,” Illumi said. He was still so calm, it was maddening. “This is for the best, you’ll see. But don’t worry. As long as you still need me, I won’t leave you. That’s a promise.”

How is this not leaving me? And why make me forget this?

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Kalluto couldn’t stop his voice from shaking. “Please, don’t go! There has to be another way.”

Illumi tapped his own forehead once, and briefly he smiled. It was the warmest expression Kalluto had ever seen him wear.

 “I’ll see you later, Kal.”

“ILLUMI!”

Acting as if he couldn’t hear him, Illumi turned neatly around and walked back into the thorns. This time, he didn’t stop, swiftly vanishing from sight as the path closed up behind him.

No matter how much Kalluto screamed for him to come back, he never did.

🐉🥀🐉

Kalluto recalled everything now. 

How he wished he didn’t. 

At some point after his brother had walked away, he must have passed out from sheer exhaustion. He’d awoken on the ground to Illumi prodding at his shoulder, telling him to get up. The vines were all gone, the path to the exit clear. Confused, he’d asked Illumi what had happened, and his brother had simply told him that he’d handled it.

Kalluto’s throat had been terribly sore, for some reason, and he’d felt so drained and disoriented that he hadn’t even thought to question the story. Illumi was so much stronger than him, after all. It wasn’t that unbelievable to think he’d been able to deal with the guardian all on his own.

And he had, in the end.

“Kalluto!” Someone was holding both his shoulders, shaking him roughly—it was Killua. Tears were running freely down his brother’s face, though he didn’t seem to notice. “Come on, Kalluto, fucking say something—”

“Yes?”

Killua stopped shaking him, but he kept a too-tight grip on his shoulders. Kalluto didn’t really mind; something about the pressure was reassuring. It would almost certainly bruise.

“So Illumi’s dead,” Killua said with forced calm. 

Kalluto looked past him to the bed, where Illumi’s head remained leaning against the pillow, his black eyes staring blankly, hair spread out behind him. He looked to be only recently deceased, his skin grayish but his eyes not yet sunken. Kikyo was leaning forward in her chair; she seemed to be weeping as she cradled a strand of his hair in one hand.

“Yes,” he acknowledged. “I remember now.”

“How could you forget that?” Killua asked desperately. “What the fuck happened, Kalluto?”

Having just relived the whole experience, Kalluto would rather not go over it all right now. Still, Killua deserved to know the truth of what had happened, as did their mother. Kalluto locked away the feeling that made him want to scream without stopping, and calmly explained the whole series of events. By the end of it, he only felt nothing.

“Ever since then, Illumi has been a Nen beast,” Killua concluded flatly.

“It seems so,” Kalluto agreed, since that was the only reasonable explanation.

“Fuck,” Killua muttered, finally stepping away to stare at the bed with some unreadable emotion, hands trembling violently at his side. Gon stepped closer to lean against him, while Alluka came up to take his hand. He didn’t seem to notice either of them. “Fuck. Illumi, you…”

At some point—Kalluto wasn’t sure when—Silva had entered the room. His eyes had returned to their normal blue, the vines around him all gone. Kikyo was back to normal as well. 

Nanika had healed everyone apart from Illumi; there was a certain sick irony in that.

“The guardian’s Nen must have corrupted him,” Silva said quietly. He was staring at the bed like the rest of them, seeming unable to look away. “Illumi may have been sick for much longer than we believed, and hiding it from us.” He frowned. “Of course, that wasn’t truly Illumi—”

“It was,” Kalluto snapped. Silva gave him a startled look—he never interrupted his father, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. “In every way that matters, he was Illumi. He told me he wouldn’t leave me, and he kept his promise. He stayed for as long as he could.”

His words were followed by a dead silence. The only sound in the room was Kikyo’s broken sobbing as all of them were caught in a horrible standstill. 

Someone should go tell Milluki and Grandpa and Grandma and Maha, he thought absently. They should all be informed.

“Fuck this,” Killua said loudly, the words bursting out of him. Flanked by his two closest people, he glared at the rest of them, his seeming anger contradicted by the tears still sliding steadily down his face. “I’m out of here. Tell me when the funeral is, and maybe I’ll come.”

He stormed out of the room, followed closely by his companions. For the briefest moment, Kalluto had the passing urge to chase after them, just to escape this horrible airless room. 

It was a foolish dream. As far as he ran, he couldn’t escape from the truth.

Besides, Kalluto’s family needed him more than ever now. With everything crumbling underfoot, he needed to be a good and reliable son.

“I’ll tell the others,” he told his parents, and slipped out of the room before they could possibly tell him to stay.

Kalluto tracked down his grandparents and Maha first, relaying the news to all of them quickly.  There was no point in wasting time with the full story; that, they could get from Silva.

At last he returned to the computer room, where he found Milluki slumped in the chair where they’d left him. His older brother was still asleep and snoring softly, his head tipped back and mouth slightly open.

Kalluto hesitated for just a moment, because as long as Milluki slept, he didn’t know. Unlike the rest of them, he still lived in a world where Illumi was alive—horribly sick, perhaps, but soon to be healed.

There was no point putting it off any longer; Kalluto roughly shook him awake.

“Whuh,” Milluki complained, blinking slowly awake. “Ah, it’s you, Kal…hang on. What happened? My recent memories are all fucked up.”

Kalluto ended up giving him the whole story, starting with the state they’d found him in and ending with the revelation of Kalluto’s newly-recovered memories. He hadn’t meant to say all of it again, but somehow once he’d begun he couldn’t stop until the end.

After he fell silent, Milluki stared vacantly at the nearest computer, the dancing rainbow screensaver reflected in his dark eyes. “This whole fucking time…” he muttered, clearly disturbed. His hands clenched into fists. “How the hell did we miss that?”

Kalluto had no answer for him. All he had was a question.

He freed the compass from his bag—he’d stolen it back from Killua after waking up on the train, though he rather suspected his brother had let him—and handed it over to Milluki. “You told me that this would indicate if any of us were dead. Why is his face only faded now?”

“...I don’t know,” his brother replied, seeming honestly at a loss. “I honestly don’t…I used old blood we had in storage, so that’s not the issue, but—” He swallowed thickly. “Fuck. Maybe…I mean, Illumi’s personality was fully intact, wasn’t it? All of his memories, even his Nen. For the compass, that must’ve counted as life.”

“That’s fucked up,” Kalluto said, glaring at the useless object that had given him false hope, that had fooled all of them into believing there was still a chance Illumi could be saved. 

He should’ve let Killua break the damn thing.

“Yeah,” Milluki agreed softly.

And then they were quiet; the two of them, for once, in perfect agreement.