(A/N: Whale Island is in New Zealand. You heard it here first, folks! Gon and Killua are back to being 14. Kurapika and Leorio are 18 and 19. Also, 𝔍 = jenny.)

The Opening of the Heart:

One:

time for change

With a hand clasped around a convenient branch and fragrant leaves tickling her chin, Gon swung closer to the rimu fruit. It was a strange looking food, resembling a cross between a pinecone and a raspberry. Gon had tried one before and found them almost unbearably sour and not much else, but for her kakapo friend, it seemed like a gift from the food gods themselves.

"Got it!" she announced, triumphantly, holding out the bundle she'd grabbed. The kakapo croaked happily on the ground, its sharp claws making punctures in the grass as it hopped around with all the grace a flightless bird could muster. Gon's teeth flashed, as she jumped to a branch closer to the ground, catching leaves and twigs in her thick, dark green hair along the way. She landed with ease before the kakapo, who, with a chirp resembling a thank you, took hold of its newly prepared meal.

Her back pressed against the tree trunk, the excitement seeping out. The kakapo's head tilted to -the side, and Gon smiled at the gesture.

"You're going to have to get it yourself from now on," she said, hands clasped behind her back. On the ground, her boot started kicking at grass. "I'll ask Kon to help you." Then again, she wasn't sure how a huge fox bear was going to make it up a rimu tree. "Or one of the birds."

The kakapo squawked, its beak tearing at the fruit's red flesh.

She tugged on the ends of her hair. "I wonder what Aunt Mito will say."

The kakapo squawked again. Above, the sun was setting, orange and purple peeking through swaths of green and brown.

"I should probably be getting home."

Gon pushed off the tree, scratching the back of her neck. She waved to the kakapo, and then slowly made her way back home through tangled trees and hidden undergrowth, skipping over a stream here and there. The path was so familiar that her thoughts traveled elsewhere.

Dear Ms. Freecss,

I am delighted to inform you that the Office of Admissions has admitted you to the Class of 1999 under the Ancestry Program. Please accept my congratulations on behalf of all our staff.

As stated in our Ancestry Program, you will receive a financial reward of 𝔍 100,000,000. This financial reward will cover both tuition and room and board. We look forward to meeting you this September. In the meantime, be sure to stay up to date on upcoming deadlines and events through the Admissions website.

Thank you,

Mr. Beans.

Seikatsu Academy was located all the way in the United States of Saherta. It was also the only way to become a Hunter. Neither of those things appealed to Aunt Mito. It wouldn't matter in the long run. Gon would go to the Academy either way. Even so, Aunt Mito was important to her and having her worry would make Gon uneasy.

The trees began to thin out, and Gon was beginning to make out the pale stone of her home. The lights had been left on to fight off the encroaching darkness. The remnants of the sun's rays still hung in the sky, dangling by imaginary threads. Aunt Mito stood in the kitchen window with a practical apron tied around her. Gon took the pebble road up to the house, the scent of her grandmother's wisterias mixing in with the summer wind. The tiny rocks crunched under her green boots and then went silent, as she came to a stop in front of the door.

She clasped the iron handle of the door. It was one of those that resembled the ear of a teacup, though hardly as fun as the metaphor might make it seem.

"I'm home!" Gon said, stepping inside. It was cooler than outside, even though most of the sweltering heat summer days were known for had seeped away. The smell of Aunt Mito's famous curry had spiced up the whole house. Gon's boots were left at the door.

Ah, she was starving! This much worrying really took a lot of energy!

The kitchen and dining rooms were one and the same in Gon's house. To one side, stood the oven, stovetop, and various other kitchen appliances and cabinets, all organized in a neat L-shape. The countertops were not quite so orderly. Three chopping boards were laid out, with various vegetable ends still hanging around them. Onion and garlic skins had been left behind. A bit of the curry sauce had spilled on the wooden island countertop, near the sink. Gon smiled. It wasn't a meal unless the kitchen was a mess.

Gon moved on to her upstairs bedroom. She was covered in leaves and dirt and was quite certain Aunt Mito didn't want a sweaty, filthy niece at her dinner table.

"Wash up and come down for dinner, okay, Gon?"

"'Kay!"

Gon hopped upstairs, to her bedroom at the end of the hall, and walked to her oak closet. She picked out some things haphazardly from the hangers and headed for the bathroom. Her old clothes were abandoned in the laundry bin, her new ones placed on the sink's surrounding countertop. The water ran cold, just like she preferred, and she jumped in.

What would home look like in Seikatsu Academy? Certainly not as cozy as her living with Aunt Mito and grandmother. And yet, she couldn't wait to find out how it all turned out.

Gon slipped on her green tank top and jacket and zipped up her lime shorts. Taking a green hair tie from its place in a container of similar objects, the girl slid her hair through once, twice, thrice, until there was a tight ponytail atop her head.

With that, the now grime-free Gon ran to her favorite meal. Aunt Mito had set the plates out, though if one looked a bit past the table, they'd see the kitchen itself was still in chaos. Gon sat down, piling the food up on her plate. The woman across from her stayed silent, her eyes thoughtful, fingers drumming against maple wood.

"I found something in your room this morning, Gon," Aunt Mito said. Gon's grandmother joined them at the table, her eyes closed as she listened in on the conversation.

Gon looked up, her mouth stuffed with curry-soaked rice. "What was it?" She'd nearly forgotten the one thing that could make her Aunt look so pensive.

Aunt Mito paused for a few seconds, lips pulled into a thin line. "It was from Seikatsu Academy."

"Oh."

Aunt Mito clasped her hands together and brought them to her lips. "When did you get it?"

Gon fidgeted, making swirls in her food, feet swaying underneath the table. "A week ago, I suppose."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to," Gon insisted. "I just kept forgetting. Besides, you don't want me going away."

Mito let out a sigh. "I don't want you to go after your father, Gon, but I also don't want you telling me last minute that you're going off to Seikatsu Academy. That's halfway across the world, and I need to prepare for your departure."

"You're not going to try to stop me?" Gon asked, her voice ending on a high note. She was surprised. "But you did all you could to stop me from meeting Ging."

"Because he's an asshole," Mito said, crossing her arms, her chin tilted up in defiance. Grandmother chuckled. "But I don't think I can stop you. All I can do is make sure you do your laundry and keep eating while you're there. I'll have to buy you a cellphone this weekend."

Gon stood up, her chair nearly falling back. "Really?"

"It might not be the newest model, but it'll do," Mito said, still seemingly speaking to herself. Gon held out her little finger.

"Promise?"

Mito stared at it for a second, eyes shaking. Her face thawed, and she curled her own digit around Gon's.

"Promise to be safe?"

Gon nodded, "sure do!"

Their oath was synchronized as they spoke the words, "Pinky swear so if I lie, stick a thousand needles in my eye." Their thumbs connected. "And seal it with a kiss!"

Gon was suddenly encompassed in Mito's arms, and she was almost certain Mito was crying. Her grandmother continued to sip her tea, content with the scene before her. Outside, it had started to rain. Gon wondered what life would be like in Seikatsu Academy, and if she would really be able to find Ging by attending the same school as him. She didn't wonder if something bigger awaited her.

In the United States of Saherta, two other pieces were making steps in her direction.

. . .

Kurapika was suspicious. Leorio was less so. They'd both been accepted to Seikatsu Academy, and as usual, all good fortune was secretly a conspiracy in the eyes of his best friend.

She sat at her desk now, a neat manila folder lying atop a pile of books. Her back was tense. She was always so tense. Leorio sometimes worried she'd snap under all that pressure. Kurapika insisted she was alright. Leorio didn't believe her.

"Are you seriously thinking about turning them down?"

Kurapika's hand stiffened around her pen, and she placed it on the desk so it wouldn't break like the other ones. Outside, it had started to rain. Her hand went up to brush through blonde hair in that jittery way that told of too much stress pent up in a body that wasn't made for it.

"I don't know what I'm thinking," she said, the words coming in an exhausted drawl, her words tilting with her Kurtan accent. It hardly ever made an appearance anymore, but every now and then, she let it slip. When she was tired, or angry, or on the rare occasion that she got excited.

Leorio sat down on Kurapika's bed. Those were the only two things in Kurapika's dimly lit room. Her desk, and her bed. Her clothes and books were all neatly stacked in a tiny closet without a door, books outnumbering apparel. Their whole apartment was tiny, but both of them had been faced with worse conditions: streets, filthy motels, public parks roaming with squirrels and rats.

"Well, I'm going."

"Leorio!" She stood up, eyes flashing red.

Another day, another fight.

"If they want to use me, fine! I'll use them right back!"

"We have no idea why they want us there!" Kurapika retorted. They were both standing now, Kurapika glaring up at him with the ferocity of a giant though she was several inches shorter than him. Her Kurta training suit could've been mistaken for a normal workout outfit, but if one looked closer, as Leorio did now, they'd notice it had been stitched by hand. His hand, not Kurapika's. Kurapika didn't have the patience for that sort of thing. It had been a present.

"Do you really think the Hunter Association wants your eyes?" Leorio asked. "Why would they go to all this trouble?"

Her eyes shifted away from his face. "Why would they bother with a girl who has had no formal training nor connections?"

"Because you're fucking smart!"

"Don't take that tone with me!" she hissed back. "Besides, geniuses are no longer a rarity. What else could they want?"

Leorio rolled his eyes. "Eh, let's assume they do know about your Kurta-ness. That doesn't mean they've got bad intentions. Maybe they just want to help you out?"

"I will not be a token," Kurapika said, pivoting on her heal and walking back to her desk. Lips pursed, Leorio ruminated over his thoughts. When it came to her clan, Kurapika was immovable. She wouldn't let anyone spit on their grave, even if it was the only way to get what she wanted.

"I can't just leave you on your own," Leorio insisted.

"Why not?" Kurapika asked, writing down a few notes on a blank sheet of paper. "I'm not the same person I was when you found me. I can take care of myself."

Yeah, you're even more hellbent on revenge than before.

Leorio grimaced. He hated using this reasoning. "How else are you planning on capturing the Phantom Troupe? Without a Hunter's License from Seikatsu Academy, you'll never be able to get close to them."

Her head rested on the palms of her hands, her face obscured. She massaged her forehead. "I don't know."

. . .

There were many things Killua Zoldyck disliked. His mother, for example. She was such a nag sometimes that he couldn't hear himself think, plus her obsession with him was creepy. Electrocution and torture were pretty high up on that list as well. But without a doubt, what he hated most in the world, were rules. Not normal rules, like stopping at the red light, or recycling glass and plastics. No, what he hated were stupid rules. Rules that told him that he couldn't have friends, or that he had to kill this many people in this much time.

Essentially, what Killua Zoldyck hated most in the world was being a puppet. So the moment he could manage it, he snipped his strings, stabbed his mother in the face and his brother in the side and made a run for it. They were probably so pissed right now, Killua wished he could see their faces. It was a good thing Illumi and his father were gone that day, otherwise, he'd probably be getting whipped in the dungeon or something stupid like that.

"You want to buy all of those, young man?" the woman at the counter asked, eyeing the cart full of chocolate with her mouth open in a wide, disbelieving smile.

"Yeah," Killua said, piling the chocolate on the conveyor belt. His lollipop shifted to the side of his mouth, teeth clacking against the solid candy, lips stained orange. "Problem?"

"Aren't you, like, twelve?"

Tch, how annoying. He remembered back when kids could buy stuff without being interrogated. Then again, that was in a movie about magical teenagers so maybe it wasn't the best source of information. "I'm fourteen and rich. Can I buy my stuff already, or do you want to keep commenting on how I look?"

The woman recoiled and began bagging the many confections he'd acquired: Choco-Robos, Cream Boston Donuts, Lily Pad Chocolates, dozens of those absurdly expensive chocolate boxes because he was worth it. They were all worth around 𝔍 40,000. The stuff back in Padokea was way more expensive.

Once all his precious possessions were tucked away in brown paper bags which declared the store workers "The BEST Chocolatiers in the World!"

Meh, he'd seen better. Their inventory wasn't even up to date, and their interior design was drab at best (too much grey). Reaching inside his backpack for that characteristic pink wallet, Killua took out his brother's credit card and swiped. The cashier recognized his last name, and Killua told her not to mention it as he picked up all the fifty tiny bags in his arms.

"Oh, and you should probably delete it from your records," Killua added, as he put one hand on the door. "My brother will get suspicious."

"Right," she said, still shocked.

He walked into the parking lot, where a sleek taxi waited.

"Back to the Inn, Ben."

"My name is Bill."

"Whatever."

. . .

Man, it was a pain having to go 100 miles west by car and then 50 miles north on foot. Killua didn't mind too much, but he was half-certain that all his chocolate had melted in the summer swelter. He'd placed the paper bags in a large box that Ben (Bill!) had provided, and now trekked down a country road to a small Inn. The old couple who ran the place greeted him at the 'lobby desk', also known as an old wooden desk with a wobbly leg.

"I hope those bags are biodegradable, boy," the old man yelled as Killua climbed the stairs with a hand in his pocket and a box under his arm, several of the bags peeking through.

"Sure, Gramps!"

Killua's room was upstairs. There were twenty bedrooms in the Inn and most of them were empty, save for a traveling family consisting of two rowdy kids and a tired-looking mother. He still wasn't sure what their deal was but they'd been at the Inn for two weeks according to the owners.

His room was quiet tonight. He'd bought a new laptop with some leftover cash a few days ago, but had run out pretty quick and reverted back to Illumi's card. Milluki could probably track him down easily. Three more days, no, maybe five and they'd be lining up at the door to this Inn, telling him to come home. Killua would be long-gone by then, and Illumi's card would be shred to bits (after he took out the rest of the money on it, of course). And after that, it was just a few weeks until the school year started. Seikatsu Academy had some of the best security out there, even Illumi wouldn't be able to trick the system.

The wrapper on one of his Choco-Robos came undone, and Killua chomped on the head of the robot. It smelled like freshly cut wood in his room and he'd bought the chocolates partly for that reason.

He turned on his laptop and typed 'best chocolate shops in the world' into the search engine. Killua had ventured about halfway through a list on FeedtheBuzz when something not at all chocolate-like caught his eye.

The mother from downstairs was sitting on the steps, one hand tangled in her hair, the other clutching her phone.

Eh, none of his business.

Killua turned back to the screen, finally able to see which chocolate shop had one the FeedtheBuzz competition. Kakin Empire Chocolate Emporium? Killua glanced down at the author's bio at the bottom of the page.

Eric

Writer and Kakin Empire Enthusiast.

Killua closed the lid on his laptop with a flick of his index finger. He'd just have to go to all the chocolate shops around the world and make his own mind up.

Outside, the woman still sat, even as the night air made way for the climbing stars. Killua sighed, standing up and opening the window. He removed the protective netting and set it gently down on the wooden floor. He didn't want any bugs in his room, so he couldn't just destroy it.

Killua peered down at where the woman was and leaped. He landed in front of her as if he hadn't jumped at all, his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders slumped forward. Behind him, there was a cornfield. He wondered if there were any serial killers hiding in there. The amateurs.

"Hey."

The woman stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Her eyes were rimmed with red.

"You okay? Your sadness is really freaking me out," he said. The woman looked at him, then back at her phone, her expression blank.

"It's nothing."

"Where're your kids?" he asked, sitting down next to her on the stone steps, whipping out a chocolate bar from his jacket pocket. "Want some."

She considered him for a minute, before taking hold of it anyway. "They're asleep. We're going home tomorrow, so they need to get there rest."

"Oh. Didn't know you were so attached to the place."

She shook her head, massaging her temple. "I'm not. I just . . ." She trailed off, but Killua picked up on the implication. It was one he'd made himself several times since he'd left home.

"You don't want to go back?" Killua asked, through a mouthful of chocolate. "How come?"

"It's . . . complicated. My husband, their father, our relationship . . . is complicated," she said, struggling for the right words. "He's a good man, I'm sure of it, but sometimes he just falls off the deep end and lashes out."

"Nah, he sounds like an idiot," Killua said. "My parents tortured me when I was a little kid and they're called good people all the time."

"That's horrible."

"I know, right? What were they thinking? No wonder I turned out all wrong," he said, shaking his head. "That's why I left. I think leaving is better than staying long enough to kill the other person."

"I would never –"

"Yeah, that's what they all say," Killua chimed in, standing up again. "But if it's not you, it's gonna be one of your kids. It's better to quit while you're ahead."

"While I'm . . . ahead?"

Half of Killua's mouth seemed to tug into a smirk, as he turned back to the woman, one foot on the last step to the door. "You've got until tomorrow, right? Take advantage of it."

"Mom!" The girl sprang outside, her black hair tied in two thick pigtails on her head. She hugged her mother, arms shaking.

"Anita," Lori asked. "What's wrong?"

"We don't want to go back," the boy said, standing behind Killua with his hands in his pockets. He was younger than his sister, and significantly shorter, though they looked identical otherwise. "And . . . we don't have to."

Killua now realized feelings would soon be unleashed, and he was too jaded for that sort of thing. He disappeared back upstairs, leaving the family to attend to their own problems.

Was he going soft or something? He'd been doing good deeds ever since he left.

. End of Chapter .

A/N: Let's all ignore the fact that my new titles sound like open heart surgery or something. I'm kind of expecting no one to read this, but as is tradition, I will post a Question of the Day.

Question of the Day: What moment in the story are you really against cutting out? Because there will be lots of trimming.