This is a(n) (admittedly long) one-shot spin-off to the "In Shadows" (Locked On, Circus Act, Chain Reaction) series, and I'm genuinely not sure whether it can be read alone-apologies if you try and it doesn't work! I also apologize that it is not a terribly well-crafted story, but it was fun and fluffy to write (with a side dish of angst like usual).
"Kalluto, you're not leaving this house without a coat!"
"Hisoka's not wearing one!"
"Hisoka's an adult," Hisoka's husband retorted. He glanced at Hisoka, clown makeup perfectly applied, hair finally styled after spending over a half hour on it. The red waves were difficult this morning.
Hisoka folded his arms.
"Well, supposedly," Illumi added under his breath.
"Bye!" Kalluto darted out the door after Killua and Alluka.
"If you get the flu I will make you go to school anyways!" Illumi hollered. "Fever or no fever!" He aggressively chugged his black coffee.
Poor Mike the dog whimpered. Hisoka looked at him. Mood.
"Are you going to the gym later today?" Illumi asked Hisoka.
"Not gonna yell at me to put a coat on to set a good example for the kids?" Hisoka tasted his coffee and winced. He added three more teaspoons of sugar to it. Illumi's gaze lost its soul.
"No point." Illumi turned on his heel. "Milluki, feed Mike or I won't feed you!" he hollered down the stairs. Illumi's socially-phobic brother worked from home mostly, but twice a week he had been going into the office. He looked like he was going to be sick every time he left the house, but that girl he was sort-of dating would meet him for lunch, and, well, that seemed to be good enough motivation for him.
Hisoka waved. He pinched the ring he wore on his left hand, the golden wedding band. He finished his coffee and headed to his own car, driving to the gym. He'd been wrestling only once every few months now—he no longer needed to fight all the time. And he still chose fights that would challenge him over fights he knew he could win. Even though he always did win.
But he wasn't fighting today, or even working out much. He was going for an interview with a reporter.
Chrollo was in the locker room that day. He waved.
It was strange being on speaking terms with that man again. Hisoka nodded at him. "Getting interviewed by an actual reporter today, not a fake one."
Chrollo's fake smile could slice a weaker man. "I'm sure he'll be boring."
"Not as boring as this," Hisoka said, gesturing towards the televisions. They blared with coverage of the mysterious "bomber" attacking random people in Yorknew City. He struck by delivering packages which everyone was expecting because it was Christmas time, and when they unwrapped them, boom.
"Not worth investigating," Chrollo said. "Seems like some dumbass randomly targeting people for lols. I'm sure he'll get caught soon."
Hisoka smoothed his hand, golden ring flashing in the light. "So. Are you asking Kurapika at Christmas?"
"No!" Chrollo's jaw dropped. "We've only been dating since April. He's eighteen. Not until he graduates."
"But then you will," Hisoka said. "So Illumi and I will beat you in the marriage department by at least three years."
Chrollo's brows pushed together. "Petty today, are we, Hisoka? Lovers' quarrel?"
"Not hardly." In truth, Hisoka almost wished they had. He didn't like that look Illumi got sometimes, like he was completely giving up on fighting. He liked Illumi invigorated, ready to fight for what he had. His siblings, Hisoka, his family. But Illumi seemed so tired.
They tried to contact you again, didn't they?
His parents. But Hisoka was waiting for Illumi to mention it to him instead of keeping it to himself. Sometimes waiting for Illumi to acknowledge that he was bleeding, though, was like waiting for water to boil. If he didn't start bubbling soon Hisoka would need to add some heat.
"Kurapika is moving in," Chrollo acquiesced. "Next weekend, actually. Leorio wants to move in with Cheadle, so his lease is up."
"I'm sure you didn't suggest that to Cheadle at all."
Chrollo leaned back against the wall, a smirk on his lips.
Hisoka left the locker room to find Machi climbing off a treadmill, her stomach in a compact ball. She wiped her brow. Her due date was December 31. "Still running?" he tossed at her.
"I will stab you if you suggest I should sit at home," Machi responded.
"I would never."
She rolled her eyes. Feitan approached, offering her a bottle of water.
The door to the gym flew open. Hisoka turned, expecting the reporter. Instead, he saw Phinks.
"You late," Feitan said. "We done."
Phinks looked as if the words didn't even register. He flung his arms out. "She said yes!"
"What said what?" Feitan asked.
"Weren't you going to propose at Christmas?" Machi asked. "Isn't this like, almost two weeks early?"
"I got the ring yesterday and couldn't wait." Phinks beamed.
Oito's divorce from Nasubi probably broke records for the quickest divorce in the history of Yorknew City. Mostly because Nasubi had to know contesting anything she wanted would be just the leverage Chrollo needed to destroy him. But Hisoka was amused she wanted to remarry so soon. Then again, maybe not. Phinks was wrapped around her little finger, hers and Woble's.
"Well, congratulations," Machi said. She winced, shifting.
"Labor?" Hisoka asked.
Feitan fixed him with a glare that shot daggers.
"No, it's called a Braxton Hicks contraction," Machi retorted. She lifted her pink hair off her neck.
"She's such a queen," Phinks gushed. His eyes practically turned into heart emojis. Hisoka had to record this. A bonus for his YouTube channel which had recently expanded from focusing on Illumi acting boneheaded to all of his circle acting like idiots. "Woble keeps pulling herself up on the coffee table. She'll be walking soon." He pointed at Machi and Feitan. "They grow up so fast."
Feitan blanched. "My baby not."
"Not ever walk?" Hisoka quipped.
Feitan scowled.
Machi snorted. "I'm going to shower. My back hurts."
"Labor?" asked Nobunaga, appearing behind Machi.
She flipped them off as she headed into the women's locker room.
"What did I do?" asked Nobunaga. "It's a sign of potential labor. Back pain. I've been reading all these WebMD articles—"
The reporter arrived, and Hisoka went to chat with him. As promised and as expected, he was boring, but whatever. But at the end of his interview, he asked Hisoka about getting married, about raising the Zoldyck kids.
"There's never a dull moment," Hisoka responded.
Machi was not in labor, and Gon came to train with him after school, as he did most afternoons. He landed a kick against Hisoka, so Hisoka drove him home. It was also freezing, and the news was warning about black ice. Exciting.
He pulled onto Gon's street to see black smoke writhing in the air, cloaking the Christmas lights decorating the houses on a street that seemed to be competing for most festive and cheerful house ever. Sirens screamed in the distance, but they weren't close enough.
"That's my house!" Gon bellowed, opening the door before Hisoka had even stopped the car.
"Idiot," Hisoka snapped, putting the car in park and leaping out.
"Mito!" Gon shrieked, charging for the house. The entrance looked charred, wooden door shattered into black knives of splintered wood—even though the smoke, Hisoka could see blood in the snow.
He grabbed Gon by his waist, hoisting the kid up in the air. Gon kicked. "Let me go!"
"No—" Gon now landed a punch. Hisoka spat out a wad of bitter blood. "I said no, brat! You'll get yourself killed!"
"So what?" Gon screamed. "That's my mom!"
Well, aunt. But he supposed mom, for all intents and purposes.
Gon let out a scream, wordless and without needing a single syllable. It wasn't like he had anyone else.
Maybe I should go check—
No. The house was really lighting up now, anyone inside would be dead. Illumi would never forgive him if he got himself killed. Hisoka shook Gon. "Get it together!"
Gon looked at him with the same fear Hisoka often saw trembling in Illumi's eyes.
No one. No one else left.
"Calm down," Hisoka said. He couldn't really think of what else to say. He just gripped Gon's shoulders, not allowing him to run forward. At the very least, someone wants you to live.
"Gon!" bellowed a voice. Hisoka's jaw fell open.
Mito raced towards him, her hand wrapped in a crimson-stained towel, but she herself was alive. Now Hisoka released Gon. The kid raced into her arms, sobbing.
"So it was that bomber guy?" Illumi asked that night.
"Presumably." Hisoka rubbed his face. Killua paced the kitchen anxiously texting his friend. He'd already pressed Hisoka for details. Mito and Gon were staying with a friend of Mito's from work, Morel, in the meantime.
"Good job not letting him run in," Illumi said. "Kid already got himself stabbed last summer."
"You were relieved at the time," Hisoka taunted, voice low enough so Killua wouldn't hear.
"I—" Illumi frowned, tugging at his hair. "I'm surprised you didn't run in yourself."
"I figured you wouldn't be happy to be a widower six months after marriage."
Illumi smirked. "And Gon?"
"I don't want the kid to die, Illumi. He's fun to teach and—" Hisoka cut himself off. "Why are you smiling?"
"I'm just impressed," Illumi said, removing his smile without another word. Alluka wandered in, reaching into the freezer to give Mike a bone. Hisoka rolled his eyes, biting his cheeks to keep from smirking himself. "Oh," Illumi added. "Phinks called. Oito apparently suggested that Chrollo's entire paper staff and us as well by extension spend Christmas together. Since…" He cut himself off.
Since your family imploded.
"If it ruins Chrollo's day," said Hisoka with a shrug. "I'm down."
"What if they hit us next?" Illumi worried, biting his lip.
"I am curious now," said Hisoka, rubbing his chin. "Considering it didn't seem there was any rhyme or reason to the bomber's actions beforehand, but now he hit the son of a city councilman. Not that the councilman gives a shit about him, but." He wondered if Ging had even called Gon. Probably not. Asshole. Hisoka would have to call and threaten him to reach out to Gon. Again.
"If he doesn't want to call," Illumi said. "Maybe you shouldn't intervene."
"Why not?" Hisoka demanded, phone already out of his pocket.
"Because they'll be looking at people threatening—"
"That's not really what you mean, and Beyond will know that I'm not—"
"If a parent doesn't love you," Illumi said, staring out the window at a tiny snowflake drifting to the ground. "Maybe it's better to just know it, instead of driving yourself crazy with futile hope." He reached to brew another cup of coffee.
"Do you have something you need to say to me?" Hisoka asked.
"Maybe it'd be good to ask Chrollo to investigate," Illumi said, swallowing. "The bomber, I mean. If anyone can find him, he could."
"Talk or I'm not sleeping with you later," Hisoka said.
"You won't turn down sex," Illumi replied. "I could not be less concerned about that."
"Don't underestimate the power of spite."
"My grandfather wants to meet with me," Illumi said finally. He watched Hisoka for his reaction. "Technically that's not forbidden by the restraining order."
"Do you want to?" Hisoka prompted. "Wait, Illumi. I bought espresso earlier this week, this calls for that." He stopped his husband from putting in the normal stuff. Illumi's eyes lit up.
"I don't know," Illumi said quietly. "You think I shouldn't, right?"
Hisoka shrugged, measuring the espresso. "I think you should do what you want to do."
Illumi scowled.
"You are going to call Chrollo, right? Ask him? Just in case someone does have a grudge against Ging and is taking it out on Gon," Hisoka added. He couldn't blame whoever hated Ging, but it wasn't fair for Gon to get caught up in it. He remembered the acrid scent of the smoke, the shattered wood. Nope. He did not want to see Gon's shattered bones. He would've charged right into that smoke-filled mess on a pointless chase, since Mito wasn't even there, and suffocated searching for someone who was already safe.
"I think you should," Illumi said seriously. But his eyes sparked.
I shall call your bluff. Hisoka went to dump the espresso down the garbage disposal.
"Okay, okay, I will!"
"I'll take care of it."
When Chrollo's tone took on that dark veneer, Kurapika knew he was serious. Kurapika dumped the rest of the fish food into Indoor Fish's tank and turned to him. "Don't get yourself shot, okay?"
Chrollo's eyes widened. He smirked, wrapping his arms around Kurapika. "I know you're worried about your friend; you don't need to worry about me, too. I can take care of myself."
"The scar on your leg says otherwise."
Chrollo's jaw dropped. "That was because you got yourself kidnapped!"
Kurapika snorted. "Semantics." He pried himself away. He hadn't officially moved in yet, but he had basically been living here most of the past few months, anyways. He dropped onto the couch, littered with his notebooks and textbooks. He had to cram for his exams.
"Tea?" called Chrollo.
"Yes, please." But Kurapika couldn't fully concentrate. He kept checking his phone for updates from Gon and Killua and Leorio. What if whoever was bombing people really was targeting them deliberately? What if he went for the Zoldycks next? It wouldn't be unthinkable. Or Chrollo—he was also a well-known—
"Penny for your thoughts," Chrollo said, handing Kurapika a mug of rooibos. He sat on the opposite end of the couch.
"I'm just worried someone else will be targeted," Kurapika said. "And they'll be less lucky." A graveyard again filled his mind. Pairo. His parents. "I don't want to lose any more friends."
I want you to find out who's doing this.
I don't want you to put yourself in danger.
That was the way of the world, wasn't it? Giving him people only for his own muscle weakness to limit him, slow him down, so that they slipped between his fingers before he could hold them tight.
He almost lost Chrollo back in April. He never wanted to experience that feeling again.
Why is the world so dangerous? Damned if they did, damned if they didn't. Kurapika tried to focus on memorizing facts about some ancient dynasty. It slipped in one ear and out the other.
"Okay," said Chrollo's voice. He reached out and grabbed Kurapika's notebook, removing it.
"I need to study!"
"You need to calm down."
Kurapika glared at him. "I'm not a child." I'm your boyfriend.
"Do you want to talk?" Chrollo asked, exasperated. "Look, if you don't want me to investigate, you can just say so."
Kurapika's stomach churned. "Would it matter?"
"Yes?"
Kurapika hung his head. But Chrollo's work was everything to him. It gave him purpose, pulled him out of a life on the streets, a life Kurapika knew well after the deaths of his family. He swallowed. "I don't want you to get shot again. Or blown up. I don't want to bring flowers for another grave."
"They're expensive," Chrollo agreed.
Kurapika hurled the throw pillow at him.
Chrollo caught it. "Sorry." He pressed his lips together. "Do you want me to leave it for the police?"
"They're useless," Kurapika said. "We all know it."
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"Not get hurt." Kurapika knew he was making no sense. Chrollo could just as easily get hit by a car on the way home from his favorite cafe.
"I can't guarantee that."
"I know."
"I could give up this case."
"No, you can't. It's your job. Your job is your life." Kurapika pulled his knees into his chest.
"No, you're also part of my life."
Kurapika swallowed. A lump grew in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"You miss them tonight?" Chrollo asked, voice tentative, like he always was when he brought up Kurapika's family. Even though Kurapika had gone through the old family photo albums Kurapika kept with him even on the streets, told him they would like him, because they would, Chrollo still was fearful Kurapika blamed him, somewhere, deep down.
I don't care about that anymore.
He nodded. He wiped at his eyes.
"Okay," said Chrollo. "I'll get Nobunaga and Shizuku and Shalnark to do the primary investigating, and we'll contact Beyond Netero at the first lead. You're moving in here too; I can't risk you getting blown up."
Kurapika blinked. "Thank you."
Chrollo reached across and grabbed his notebook. "Want me to quiz you?"
Kurapika managed a smile. "Name your price."
"You fuck me tonight, afterwards."
"Deal." Kurapika settled back.
Kurapika exited his exam the next day and texted Chrollo a thumbs up emoji. Well, he was sure he'd passed, at any rate. And now he stopped at a flower shop, spending way too much on a wreath, and took the bus towards the cemetery.
A light dusting of snow covered the ground. His breath formed frosted puffs in the frigid air. His fingers felt numb. He headed towards the graves, the ones where he and Chrollo first talked, really talked, the ones where he said goodbye to his mother, his father, to Pairo.
He stopped, staring. Poinsettias, white and red, framed both of the graves. A small angel trinket rested on Pairo's grave. Kurapika knelt.
Chrollo.
He must have come earlier today. The flowers weren't covered in white yet, or wilted from the cold. Kurapika lay his wreath down between the graves. Tears stung his eyes, but they didn't fall. He closed his eyes.
He wandered away, heading back towards the bus stop, when his phone rang. He checked. From Killua.
Gon & I found out where the ant gang is staying & are going to talk to them.
"Oh hell no," Kurapika said out loud. He was the one who hired them to attack Chrollo last summer—shit, shit, shit! Last he'd heard Meruem and Komugi fled to a different city, and Pitou, Shaiapouf, and Youpi were in a foster home. Where? he texted back.
Internally he kicked himself, but he texted Illumi the location as well. And Hisoka, so Hisoka could calm his husband down.
He headed to a sketchy part of town. Kurapika tightened his scarf around himself. He found Killua and Gon sitting on a bench, three idiots around them.
Illumi texted him back. Leorio is picking them up. Killua will be grounded for the next week; please inform him.
"Kurapika!" exclaimed Gon, waving.
"Yo," said Pitou, waving. They adjusted their hat. It had cat ears. Of course. Youpi's face was as blank and stupid as ever, but Pouf looked absolutely miserable, shivering in the tattered remains of what once was a designed jacket he'd pulled out of the trash.
"They're living in a group home," Killua said.
Oh. Kurapika winced.
"Killua says you're fucking the guy you wanted us to kill," informed Pitou. "Bizarre."
Kurapika narrowed his eyes. Then again, he didn't really have the right. He'd hired them. They didn't force him into it.
"Not all of us are so lucky," Pitou added, a vicious smile on their face. The streetlights gleamed against their red eyes.
"Is the group home okay?" Kurapika asked. "At least it's a home, right?"
"Yeah, that's totally why you ran away in the first place after your parents died," said Pouf. He exhaled as if talking to them was exhausting for his soul.
"But to answer your question, or the question they already asked," said Pitou. "No, we didn't send you a bomb in revenge. I'd tear your arm off myself. The cops already investigated, anyways."
"Is the home okay, though?" Kurapika asked. He thought how unfair it was that they were suffering, while he got a second chance.
"Sure," said Pitou. "Run by bitches, though." They stuffed their hands on the pockets of their shorts. Tights covered their legs. They exhaled. "We're hiding a cat in our room, but she just had, like, four kittens, so now we're fucked. They'll probably give it to the equivalent of an animal group home, aka a shelter."
"Just like us, they'll be put down," Pouf said, staring off at the streets strewn with garbage like he was trying to channel his inner emo.
"We're still alive," Youpi pointed out.
"Are we?" Pouf asked.
Kurapika could almost hear the world's tiniest violin playing in the background. I can't. "Where are the kittens?" Kurapika asked.
Pitou scowled. "Why?"
"Because," said Kurapika. "I'm sorry. I know you're all—in this home because of me. It's not a bad thing, though. It's better than the streets."
"Says you," Pitou retorted.
"You're a kid."
"So?"
So… Kurapika hung his head. "If you need anything," he said. "I can give you my number."
"Need what?" asked Pitou. "Nothing you can give."
"I'll take the kittens," Kurapika said. "If you don't want them sent to a shelter." His heart pounded.
"Oooh," said Gon. "Killua, you should have Alluka ask Illumi for one of them!"
Killua snorted.
Pitou cocked their head, studying Kurapika. "Okay."
"He'll probably skin them or something!" objected Pouf.
"He won't."
"You can't know that!"
"Pouf," said Kurapuka, his teeth chattering. "I used to think everyone only existed to let me down, too. It's not like that. You'll see. Someday."
Pouf froze. His lip trembled.
You are just a hurting child too, aren't you? You want desperately to believe.
If no one else would be there for them, Kurapika could try. He resolved to ask Chrollo. Who would take three troubled teenagers? That is not a group home? If anyone would know, Chrollo would.
"Take care of them," Pouf instructed when Youpi and Pitou disappeared, returning minutes later with their bookbags stuffed with mewling kittens.
"You have to be kidding me," Leorio said as he arrived, eyes wide.
"I have an idea," Kurapika assured him.
"That doesn't relieve me at all to hear."
"I'll make Illumi," Killua vowed. "Or, er. Ask him."
"Also, you two," Kurapika said, spinning around in the seat of the hunk of junk car Leorio had scrimped and saved to buy. "The hell were you thinking? Going on your own to—"
"Now you just sound like an adult," Gon pointed out.
"Well, I am," Kurapika mumbled, slumping in his seat. "Do you not remember all of us getting abducted?"
"I don't trust the police," Killua blurted out. "I don't trust anyone in this town. I don't—I have to make sure Gon will be—"
I'm the same. Kurapika held the squirming bag of cat. "I understand. Chrollo's investigating—well, Nobunaga, Shizuku, and Shalnark are." He met Killua's eyes, blue and wet. "Please. Trust us, okay? I care about Gon too."
"Gon is right here," said Gon. "And thanks."
Kurapika held out the bag as Leorio stopped at Killua's house. "Which one?"
Killua hesitated, and then grabbed the black one. It hissed. "Perfect. And by the way, you're grounded, according to Illumi."
"Fuck!"
"No way," said Leorio when Killua looked at him. "Cheadle's allergic."
"We can't," said Gon reluctantly. "But I do want a puppy."
"Fine."
Leorio dropped Kurapika off at Chrollo's. Kurapika gulped as he opened the door.
Machi and Feitan sat on the couch, Machi massaging her stomach. Oito held Woble, cooing to her as Phinks helped Chrollo hang something on the wall.
"What the hell?" Kurapika yelped.
"What the hell to you?" shrieked Machi.
Kurapika froze. Words deserted him. He stared. Chrollo was—hanging up photos.
Photos from that album. His family album. Of his parents, of Pairo, of them laughing. You—you really want—this to be home for me.
"Hi," Chrollo said, rubbing his forehead. "I—"
One of the kittens meowed. Kurapika winced.
"Is that a cat?" yelped Machi.
"Kittens, actually," Kurapika responded. He crouched. One white kitten with blue eyes wandered out, followed by a tortoiseshell and a calico.
"Oh, how cute," said Oito. "See, Woble? Kitties!" Her ring sparkled. Kurapika smiled.
"Re these kittens staying here?" Chrollo ventured. He moved protectively towards Indoor Fish.
"I was thinking we can make sure they're adopted," Kurapika said. "It's a long story, and it starts with Gon and Killua deciding to investigate on their own and going to the Ant Crew, and then I felt bad because I—" They deserve a happy ending too.
"Well, that's easy," said Oito, looking to Phinks as she reached for the calico.
"Good practice for a kid," mumbled Feitan, reaching for the white one.
Kurapika would never have expected Feitan to be the type who was gentle with animals. His jaw hung open.
The kitten meowed and batted at Kurapika's ankles. He knelt and picked her up. She was tiny, with green eyes. He stroked her head. He met Chrollo's eyes. "Thank you. I saw the flowers."
"I went this morning," Chrollo said quietly. Guilt shadowed his face. He looked towards the photos.
"We should put one of Uvogin," said Kurapika. "You miss him too, don't you? He was your family."
"But would you be comfortable with that?" Chrollo regarded him.
"Yes," said Kurapika. "Because—he is someone you loved." He helped make you who you are, like my family with me.
And I love you.
Chrollo held his hands out. "Cat?"
"No. Mine." Kurapika ducked away. This really is going to be a home.
It already is.
Chrollo snorted. "We just need to make sure Indoor Fish doesn't get eaten."
"It's in an enclosed tank, Chrollo."
"Still."
"Illu-nii?"
Illumi turned around, slapping his phone down on the counter. He didn't like the feeling of guilt creeping its way up his neck, wrapping its tentacles around his windpipe.
Alluka stood there, cradling a tiny black kitten to her chest. Her eyes were round and blue. "Illu-nii, can I keep him?"
"What—where did you get that?" Illumi sputtered. A cat? What—they already had the dog! Mike! And a cat would mean his clothes would be even more covered in fur than they already were.
"Please?" She held the kitten's face up to hers, puffing her lips out. It meowed. He swore their expressions—big eyes, trembling lips—were the exact same.
"Killua gave it to her," Kalluto's voice called. "To both of us. Nii-san, it's so cute; we'll take care of it, you won't have to do a thing—"
Illumi's eyes found Killua appearing behind their youngest siblings. Killua at least had the decency to look sheepish.
"You want the kitten, don't you?" Illumi asked Killua.
"Obviously."
"So do I," Kalluto said. "Mike's an old dog. And he's—"
"A good dog, but he needs a friend," Alluka cooed. She planted a kiss on the kitten's head, between its ears. "Look at how tiny it is!"
Hisoka froze as he entered the kitchen. "Are we becoming a zoo?"
"Cats aren't at the zoo, silly," said Kalluto. "Not except. Like. Tigers."
"Please?" begged Alluka.
Illumi gritted his teeth. The guilt's tentacles sucked at his abilities to say no. And the way the kitten looked up at them... "Fine."
"Yay!" Kalluto clapped his hands. Hisoka snickered. Illumi cast his husband a dark look.
"Don't pretend you're not secretly happy about it," Hisoka said later that night, as they climbed into bed. "It gives you a good buffer when you decide to meet with your parents."
"I'm not going to meet with them," Illumi said softly. He looked at the window. More snow, light and fluffy, drifted to the ground.
"Oh?" Hisoka studied him.
He shook his head. "I'm going to meet my grandfather."
Hisoka groaned, flopping back. "You know they're just using him to get to you."
"Probably."
"I thought you were done being used."
"I am." Illumi looked at Hisoka. He rested his chin on his knees. "It just—Zeno's still allowed to see the other kids, sometimes. I want to chat with him alone. It's my responsibility, isn't it? Tol protect my siblings. I know my parents aren't going to—I mean—they aren't going to be parents. They aren't my parents, not anymore, at least I don't—but I can't cower and hide from them. I have siblings to raise."
"And what about Milluki?"
"What about him?" Illumi wondered where he was so late. Well, it didn't matter. Staying out late was hardly something Milluki would ever make a habit of.
"Does he want to talk to your dickhead parents? Or grandparents?"
Illumi shook his head. "I don't know." He should ask him. Their therapist—Mizaistrom now, since Cheadle had started dating one of Killua's friends—would probably encourage him to. "When we were growing up, Grandfather was kinder to Milluki than our parents were. Nothing Milluki did was ever right to them. They spoiled Milluki and then were surprised he turned out the way he did—and then they made their displeasure known." Insults. Slaps. "But they spoiled Milluki because they knew that I had already failed them. They didn't spoil me and I still wasn't what they wanted." He rested his forearm over his eyes.
"Well," Hisoka said. "You're what I want. I guess."
Illumi snorted. He rolled onto his side. "You're an idiot."
"You're an idiot," Hisoka mocked. He leaned in to kiss Illumi.
Scratches echoed against the door. Illumi leaped up. "Damn cat!"
"I hate being cockblocked," Hisoka moaned.
"I thought Alluka wanted—" Illumi started, opening the door. But the kitten sprinted past him, leaping onto his bed and curling up on his pillow. "Hey, that's mine!"
"Not anymore," Hisoka observed.
Illumi picked up the kitten. It yelped and dug its claws into the pillow. "No!"
Hisoka was laughing. Illumi deposited the kitten onto his husband's chest. Hisoka scowled.
"Now you really are cockblocked," Illumi informed him. "Good night."
He woke up to find the kitten sleeping against his shoulder.
Mike and the kitten didn't seem to get along the first few days, but it wasn't an all-out war, so Illumi could tolerate it. Chrollo's investigation was proceeding, and he told Illumi he thought they'd have the suspect caught by the holiday. Which they were having at Illumi's house, because, of course. He needed the stress to distract himself from the upcoming meeting with his grandfather four days before Christmas.
Illumi made his way to the coffee shop he'd agreed to see Zeno at. As he headed down the street, careful to avoid slipping in a patch of ice, he spotted three familiar faces. He drew up.
"Yo," said Phinks, arm wrapped around Oito's shoulders. Both of them were bundled in coats and scarves. Feitan held Woble, as if to prepare for having his own baby soon.
"Why are you here?" Illumi asked.
"Kalluto say he's worried about his brother," Feitan said, white cat fur sticking to his own coat, the same one he'd been wearing since Illumi met him back in college. "Hisoka tell us why he should be worried, even though Kalluto don't know."
"I don't understand," Illumi stated, blinking. The cold felt like needles stabbing into the skin of his cheeks.
"We wanted to hang in the background, or across the street," Oito said. "Or rather, Feitan said he was going to go with you, but I don't think that's what you would want. But if you wanted to feel supported, Hisoka suggested we could—"
Illumi's face burned. Did Hisoka just want to watch him? Did he think he was incompetent or would sell his siblings out of—
No. Feitan hated the Zoldycks for what they did for Kalluto. He knew that.
You didn't want me to feel alone.
Hisoka, you clown.
"Stick on the other end of the shop?" Illumi requested.
"Course," said Phinks. "If he tries anything, Fei and I can take him."
Oito reached for her daughter, rolling her eyes.
His grandfather was already seated, a cup of coffee in front of him and one across the table for Illumi. Illumi swallowed, heading over. He dropped down. "Hello."
"Happy Christmas," Grandfather greeted him.
"Happy Christmas," Illumi echoed. His voice sounded as flat as it always did.
"I wanted to run some things by you," said Grandfather, business as usual. Illumi stiffened. He spotted Phinks, Oito, and Feitan all dropping into chairs across the store, by the windows. "Your friends?"
Illumi flushed. He remembered all the lessons about how friends weren't necessary, only family.
Aren't they both?
"It was good of them to come," Grandfather said, smiling slightly.
Illumi's eyes widened. He hadn't expected to hear that. He raised the coffee to his lips and tasted. It was bitter and dark, just like he liked it. He felt surprised. He hadn't known Grandfather had any idea how he liked his coffee.
"I have some gifts for Killua, Alluka, and Kalluto," said Grandfather. "I didn't think you or Milluki would want anything, and they're just small anyways."
Illumi nodded. "Okay."
"Is it okay if I give them to them?"
"Why are you asking?"
"Because you're their guardian now. And, I must say, it seems like you are doing a good job of raising my grandchildren, despite the fact that you never should have had to."
Illumi's chest tightened. Are you for real right now? Or was it just another trick? A lump grew in his throat. "Why are you asking me?" he said again.
"Because I trust your decision-making. It's not to manipulate them, but if you think it would, then you don't have to give them to them."
Illumi gulped more coffee. It burned. He looked at his grandfather. "Did you say Alluka, too?"
"Yes," said Grandfather. "I did. She's my granddaughter."
A little late to realize it. And yet, Illumi's throat closed. "Okay."
Grandfather nodded. He rose, pushing the bag towards him. "I won't take up any more of your time, Illumi. And—I just want you to know. All that you've been doing since the past summer—I could not be more proud of you, Illumi. You really are protecting your siblings, and you're finding happiness, and for that—you're what our family should have been."
Illumi gaped after him.
Why now? Why are you telling me now? It's too late! He wanted to scream. You should have—could have—told me long ago!
What did it change?
Nothing.
I guess—I'm proud of myself. For changing.
I love Hisoka. And I love Milluki, Killua, Alluka, and Kalluto.
"What'd that bastard say to you?" demanded Phinks, flying over.
"Nothing," Illumi said. "It doesn't matter." He smiled.
I have friends.
I'm glad.
He made it home and texted Killua and Milluki. When you're home, can we talk?
I'm home now, Killua responded. The sounds of him bounding down the stairs echoed.
Coming, Milluki texted. He emerged from the basement. Palm followed, of course, he dress rumpled. Whatever. Illumi was not going to ask. "Are you coming for Christmas?" Illumi asked Palm.
She nodded, smiling.
"She'll stay," Milluki said, slinging his arm around her. "What happened, aniki?"
"I met with Grandfather," Illumi said. "He had gifts for Killua, Alluka, and Kalluto."
"Oh." Killua chewed on his lip, a sullen look on his face.
"He told me he was proud of me," Illumi said.
Killua lifted his eyebrows.
"It didn't matter," Illumi said, leaning back against the fridge. "I didn't—care. I don't want their approval." I want yours.
"Figures he didn't mention me," Milluki muttered. "I really don't matter an ounce to any of them, do I?"
Illumi hadn't said he didn't mention Milluki. But he hadn't.
"He was the one who treated me best," Milluki added. "Fuck."
"You matter to us," Illumi said. "Even if I want to strangle you sometimes."
The kitten meowed. Palm crouched, picking it up. "And to me."
"And me," said Killua. "You're not useless, Aniki."
"Thanks," Milluki muttered.
"It's hard," Illumi said, the words scraping as he uttered them. "But—you could be useless, and you'd still be my brother. Both of you."
"Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Illumi?' Milluki asked. "Keep him away!" He laughed.
Illumi scowled. But he knew his brother was teasing. Milluki… when you were born I was jealous. I thought they favored you, so I worked harder. Grandfather said it was because they thought I had more potential, and it wasn't enough.
I'm sorry I didn't love you enough earlier.
Milluki smirked at him, and Illumi felt something spark. Maybe he already was.
Killua met Illumi's eyes. He gave him a quick hug, as if to confirm.
I'm getting there.
"Why you?" Machi greeted Illumi and Hisoka.
"Can't manage a smile in the spirit of Christmas?" Hisoka taunted, holding out a bag of groceries she'd asked Feitan to pick up for her. "Kurapika said he was helping Chrollo and Feitan with something. I think it killed Chrollo to have to ask me for help."
"Not as badly as it would kill him to not have caught the bomber before Christmas," Illumi pointed out. "How are you feeling, Machi?"
"Nine months pregnant and grumpy." She rubbed her back.
"We'll see you tomorrow, right?" Illumi asked. "For the holiday?"
"'Course." Machi smirked. "Feitan actually went out to get Kalluto's gift but they got sidetracked. I told him I could wait to eat but he didn't want to believe me, apparently." She squeezed her eyes shut, dropping onto the couch.
Illumi watched her knuckles whiten as she curled her fists, and a nagging memory—three memories—stuck with him. Four. His mother, going into labor with Killua, Alluka, and Kalluto, and Milluki too, though he remembered that a lot less well. He did remember asking her why she was crying, and Father hitting him and telling her not to cry because she was a Zoldyck now, and he was so scared, because he'd never seen his mother or father cry and he thought she must be dying, but she wasn't. But with her latter three pregnancies, Illumi wasn't so concerned.
"More fake contractions?" Hisoka asked, picking up what looked like a blanket Machi had been sewing.
"They're very real, asshole, they just don't mean that you're in labor."
"God, you are hornery today."
"How far apart are your Braxton Hicks contractions?" Illumi asked.
Machi glared at him. She poked her stomach without answering. "How's your kitten?"
"He sleeps on Illumi every night," Hisoka reported. "So much for 'I must protect my clothes and my furniture.'"
"Ours is a little brat." Machi reached for the white creature, which hopped up on her couch. "She's deaf. We took her to the vet." Machi snorted. "I remember when we were kids in Meteor City. I tried to adopt a kitten. It got run over."
It feels like a chance to start over, Illumi realized.
Machi winced again. Illumi checked his watch.
Machi spotted him doing that. She scowled. "It's fine. I'll wait until Feitan—"
"Hisoka, call Feitan," Illumi said. "Machi, we're taking you to the hospital. It's been four minutes, that means—"
"It's—"
"How long then?"
"Two hours? That's not—I mean I woke up feeling crampy, but—"
"Holy fuck," said Hisoka.
"Illumi, I will go to the hospital if you make sure your husband shuts the fuck up the entire way there," Machi snarled.
"Not a word," Hisoka promised, pretending to zip his mouth shut.
"I can try," Illumi said, reaching down to help her up. "Hisoka, text Paku and Oito as well—they were going to help—"
"I thought you said call—"
"She doesn't want to hear your voice."
Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Illumi, seeing you act all business-like is very hot."
"I fucking hate you," groused Machi.
"Perfect," said Chrollo, watching the police take Genthru into custody. "I bet Ging Freecss will actually be disappointed it was a random attack and he wasn't targeted because of how swell he is." It took him almost a week to realize that no one within Ging's peripheral circle would have targeted Gon, and to start looking elsewhere. That's how narcissistic people were. They sucked everything, even people who didn't even like them, into their orbit.
Chrollo felt a slight sting in his stomach. It wasn't the same.
No, it was.
But he was changing. Trying to. He'd been making calls. He wouldn't give up until he found the Ant Crew a home.
"Hisoka will be pissed," Kurapika commented, taking Chrollo's hand.
"Good," grunted Feitan. "Let's go. Machi's waiting."
Chrollo remembered all the Christmases in Meteor City. Well, only a few when he actually realized what day it was. It was more in storybooks, ratted and torn, pages stained and wilted from the trash they'd been thrown in, that he would read about it. At first Paku would read to him, help him sound out difficult words. He remembered thinking of how nice it would be, to sit around a table, to laugh with people who loved you and you loved them for no other reason besides that you were born to them.
I wanted that.
I still want that.
Feitan cussed. "Illumi?" he answered his phone.
"Hi Feitan," Illumi's voice came out smooth. "Did it go well?"
"Chrollo caught the bomber," Kurapika called, a tinge of pride in his voice. Chrollo's heart jumped.
"Excellent," said Illumi. "Feitan, I have some news. Don't freak out, but—"
Well, Chrollo thought. How badly is he going to freak out?
"Machi's in labor, so Hisoka and I are driving her to the hospital—"
Feitan froze. The phone dropped to the sidewalk, cracking the ice. Kurapika grabbed it. Feitan shook all over.
"Feitan?" Illumi asked. "She's not very far along yet; contractions are still four minutes apart—"
"Which hospital?" Kurapika asked. "We're on our way."
Chrollo grabbed Feitan, hailing a cab. Feitan still wasn't saying anything.
"Hello?" Chrollo asked. He shook him. "Hey! Wake up!"
"Is he dead?" asked Kurapika.
Feitan glared at Kurapika. "No, asshole."
Kurapika raised his hands. "Just checking."
"I can't believe we're going to have a baby spider," mused Chrollo. He rubbed his chin.
Feitan looked terrified. His skin the color of milk, his scarf not even pulled up to his nose like normal, his lips parted and teeth chattering.
"Are you okay?" Kurapika asked.
"Get it together," Chrollo snapped.
"If baby find out that we—" Feitan clamped his hand over his mouth.
"Oh," said Kurapika, voice small. He leaned his head on the seat in front of him. Poor taxi driver. Though knowing as much of Yorknew's underbelly as he did, Chrollo doubted this was the weirdest thing the taxi driver had ever seen. "I don't—I mean, I've forgiven you, Feitan. You and Machi. I mean I'm dating Chrollo, I—"
"Don't matter," said Feitan. "I don't know how to be a dad. I have—never had one, so—"
"What do you think being a family is like?" Kurapika questioned. "I think—you all are. At the newspaper." He clutched his knees, meeting Chrollo's eyes. "I like it. It's just—that. You care about each other even when you fight. You tolerate each other's shit but only so far. You don't want to hurt each other, and when you do you try to grow. It's not unhealthy. So I think you already know how."
But it's hard.
I love it though. Chrollo swallowed.
Feitan stared at him. "What if—not enough?"
"Then you learn," Kurapika said quietly. "And that's what your friends are there for. To help you learn. Family, really."
When did you get so wise? Chrollo stared at his boyfriend, eyes red and hair golden. The sun dangled low in the sky, shimmering tangerine and scarlet waves flowing out through gauzy clouds.
The sky's so beautiful.
They hauled Feitan into the hospital, where they found Phinks, Shizuku, and—every single member of Chrollo's paper gathered, plus Gon, Killua, Alluka, and Kalluto. Kalluto raced over to Feitan, who managed to conjure up a smile for the kid.
"Hisoka kept trying to make jokes," Shizuku said. "Machi did not take it well."
Hisoka gestured to his face, which definitely bore the mark of a slap. Illumi rolled his eyes. "Oito and Paku are with her, Feitan."
Feitan raced towards the nurse's desk. They directed him and he raced towards the elevator.
"You know having babies takes hours, if not days, especially your first baby," Illumi pointed out.
"What?" Phinks gasped. He held Woble, who gurgled.
"It does," confirmed Mito Freecss, arm around Gon.
"Why?" asked Alluka.
Illumi turned green. He clearly did to want to delve into the specifics of the science as to why.
"Poor Oito," whispered Phinks. "And poor Machi, now."
The door opened. Milluki staggered in, with Palm. Both of them shook snow off their coats.
None of them made a move to leave the waiting room.
Two hours, and Hisoka finally explained the concept to Alluka, and Illumi was almost admitted to the emergency room as a patient himself. Though Hisoka was remarkably not awful about it.
Three hours, and Chrollo pulled out his phone and started researching maternal mortality in their country and fell down a wormhole of horror stories complete with blood clots and amniotic fluid embolism and prolasped cords. He paced the waiting room until Kurapika snatched his phone away from him. "Calm down."
"I can't," Chrollo managed.
"We're getting tea," Kurapika decided. He grabbed Chrollo's arm and hauled him out of the waiting room, towards the cafeteria. Chrollo's legs felt funny, like they wouldn't quite work. The smell of cleaning fluid filled his nose and he hated it.
"I can't risk losing anyone else," Chrollo whispered when they rounded a corner towards an empty hallway. The signs pointed towards Radiology and Oncology, exactly what he needed to comfort him right now. Not.
He spent so long pretending he didn't care. Caring, controlling, but aloof, trying to balance it—because he didn't know if he could survive losing them if he fully gave in and loved unabashedly, without restraints, with everything he had an acknowledged it.
It felt like fire warming knuckles against a cold world, like drowning but like you were floating at the same time, like coming home and finding Kurapika asleep on his couch with the kitten curled up against his chest.
And still in the back of his mind lingered Meteor City, with its sour trash, rotting air, book pages torn so that you couldn't read the last few words of the paragraph.
"Make up your own, then," Paku encouraged him once when he cried over a book missing its last three pages.
But it wasn't the true ending, and so he refused.
"You won't," Kurapika promised.
"You can't know that." And he hated it. He'd always hated it. The unknown. Because it was a black unavoidable reality that he was deficient. That he didn't know everything. That he was missing power, that he was weak.
"No," said Kurapika. "But statistically, she probably will be. And if she isn't, you will figure it out." He wrapped his arms around Chrollo. "I'll still be here."
"It must seem strange for someone in my position," Chrollo said. "With my career. But I—hate risks." He squeezed his eyes shut.
Kurapika pressed his chin into Chrollo's shoulder. He said nothing, but he breathed against Chrollo, their chests rising and falling, his breath warm, his heart beating against Chrollo's.
Loving me is a risk, for you. And me, loving you—
You're worth it. Chrollo dropped his head onto Kurapika's shoulder.
"After tea," Kurapika ventured. "Want to go buy a gift for the baby in the gift shop?"
Chrollo nodded.
An hour later, and they returned to find Cheadle and Leorio there. Cheadle looked as if she was doing group therapy.
Five hours, and Chrollo finally got the text he was looking for. He showed it to Kurapika. Those three from the Ant Crew would have a home starting the day after Christmas. So Christmas would be late for them, but it would still come.
Time to practice arguing with teenagers again, Morel groused. The grumpy older man would surely be gruff with them, but he had a heart.
Six hours, and Gon's phone rang. He arched his brows.
"Your dad?" asked Killua. "Fuck him."
Gon didn't answer it. Chrollo lifted his eyebrows.
"He was calling at midnight just to say Merry Christmas when he knew I'd be asleep," said Gon. "I know it. He doesn't really want to talk to me." He hunched his shoulders.
Killua wrapped an arm around him from one side, Alluka from the other. Kalluto put his hand on Gon's shoulder. Chrollo smiled.
"You know, Hisoka," said Gon. "I know you're threatening Ging. To get him to contact me."
Chrollo's eyes popped. He and Kurapika exchanged a glance. Illumi looked to his husband. Hisoka scowled.
"You don't have to keep doing it," Gon said. "I know."
Hisoka swallowed.
"Thank you, though," Gon whispered, kicking his legs out. "It means a lot."
Wow. Chrollo hung his head. He never would have guessed about Hisoka.
Ten hours, and Kurapika was asleep leaning against Chrollo's shoulder. Nobunaga snored in the corner. Mito stroked Gon's hair, and Illumi and Hisoka were both asleep leaning against each other, coffee cups in front of them.
Woble stirred, crying, and Phinks rose to take her for a walk to calm her down. "She misses Mom."
But soon he returned with Woble content again. Chrollo smiled. Phinks was the last one of them he'd have thought would be good with children.
Twelve hours, and Melody arrived bearing tea and coffee and muffins and donuts for them all. "Merry Christmas."
"Mmph," mumbled Leorio.
"Chrollo?" whispered Kurapika. "What if they name the baby Uvogin?"
Chrollo swallowed. He hadn't thought of that, but it was surely a possibility. Shalnark played a game of checkers with Kortopi, who was definitely cheating.
"It'd be okay," Kurapika said. "I mean, I'd understand. Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." He clenched his fists.
"No," said Chrollo. "I'm glad you did."
"I know you've forgiven me, but I still—with myself—"
"I feel the same way," Chrollo admitted.
Kurapika nodded. Chrollo pecked him on the lips.
Thirteen hours, and the door to the waiting room finally burst open. Feitan staggered in, bags gray and heavy under his eyes, hair mussed, but he was smiling, and he had tear tracks down his face.
"I knew he would cry!" yelped Hisoka, videotaping. Illumi elbowed him.
"It's a boy!" Feitan said. "Healthy. Machi did great. She and baby are resting. We named him Levi, and he has my hair and Machi's eyes."
Chrollo decided not to mention that all babies were born with blue eyes just then. Kurapika visibly relaxed.
"Congratulations!" The cheers erupted.
"Chrollo," hissed Kurapika.
He tried to open his mouth, but his jaw was clenched. Why?
He reached up.
Oh.
He was crying.
And he was happy.
The unknown wasn't a black void.
It was possibilities.
I hope you enjoyed! I'm outlining a college AU for Kurokura + Hisoillu that I should hopefully have up in the next few weeks.