When Killua was born, his mother had told him and Milluki that their new baby brother was going to be their responsibility. Illumi had assumed that she had meant that they were supposed to teach him things and make sure their brother didn't get his ass killed. He did not predict that he would be woken up in the middle of the night and have a two-year-old Killua shoved into his arms by a exasperated nanny.

"You take care of him," she growled. "I'm going to bed!" Illumi looked down and the toddler in his arms. Killua smiled up at him with an innocence that only a child could produce. Despite his annoyance, Illumi couldn't find it in his heart to abandon him for sleep. No one could ignore that face.

Sighing, he closed the door and sat Killua on his bed. He sat down next to him.

"So, what do you want?" Killua didn't respond. He just stared at Illumi, a sweet smile on his face. "What? Why are you staring at me?" There was no answer. Of course there was no answer. Killua couldn't talk yet. The closest thing that he'd ever said was "Ga" which his mother had immediately interpreted to be "Mama" and burst into tears.

Illumi looked at his clock. The digits read 2:00 am. He groaned. Why was he stuck with the one baby in the world with insomnia?

He sighed. "Are you hungry or something?" Killua laughed and clapped his hands happily. "Ok, food it is." Illumi scooped up his brother and carried him into the kitchenette down the hall. Mostly it was for Milluki's midnight snack, but that had been two hours ago.

He plopped Killua down onto the table and began rummaging in some cupboards. He found some eggs, some milk, and a box of Bisquick. He threw them all into a bowl and began to stir. He'd done this a lot during his mother's pregnancy. She'd craved food all the time, and Illumi had been the only one around to make it for here. The butlers weren't allowed to be near her or her food because of their impure blood carrying germs, his great-grandfather could barely lift a spoon, his grandfather flat out refused to cook, and his father wasn't allowed near the kitchen. And his brother had been four. Four-year-olds had a bad habit of burning the house down.

He finished stirring the batter and poured it onto a skillet. A few minutes later, he was expertly flipping pancakes through the air onto a plate. He finished, and presented the food to Killua. Killua stared at the pancakes for a bit, then stared at Illumi like he was some kind of nut.

"What? Haven't you ever seen pancakes before?" He held one up. "Paa-nn-caake. Oh, come on, mom ate enough of them when she was pregnant." Killua gave his brother a confused look. Illumi sighed. "Look, you just take one like this," he picked up one from the plate, "and bite it like this," he took a big bite out of the pancake. "See?" he said through the mouthful.

Killua's expression brightened. He immediately grabbed a pancake and took a huge bite, almost as big as Illumi's. He then choked.

Illumi picked him up and patted his back. "Stupid kid," he said between pats. "You don't take a bite bigger than your mouth." Killua regained his ability to breathe, and Illumi set him back down. "Take smaller bites, like this." He took a very small bite, barely big enough to need chewing. Killua looked on in amazement, and then imitated his brother.

Illumi smiled. "Good." Killua glowed under his brother's praise. They finished off the rest of the pancakes, and went back to bed. Killua fell asleep snuggled up to Illumi's chest. Illumi really wanted to sleep alone, but he supposed that one night wouldn't hurt.

The next morning, the Zoldyecks were all sitting at the table eating breakfast. Silva was engrossed in a conversation with Zeno, Milluki was engrossed in his third plate, Illumi was engrossed with not watching Milluki eat (the process made him rather sick), and Kikyou was engrossed with her son.
"Come on now," she cooed, "eat the oatmeal for mommy." Killua shook his head defiantly, his mouth clamped shut.

Kikyou sighed. "Silva, I think that Killua's becoming anorexic. He won't eat his oatmeal."

Silva looked over to his youngest son. "Perhaps he just doesn't want to eat oatmeal."

Kikyou frowned. "Well . . . I suppose that could be possible. I mean, I think I'd know telepathically, being his mother, but . . . " She turned back to Killua. "Killua, dear. What do you want to eat?"

Killua looked up, smiling. "Pa- Pa-"

"SILVA!" Kikyou shrieked. "SILVA! HE'S SAYING PAPA! COME OVER HERE!" Humoring his wife, Silva walked over and stared at his son.

"Come on dear,' Kikyou coaxed. "Say 'Papa'."

"Pa- Pa- Pancake!"

There was silence.

"What, dear?"

"Pancake!" said Killua, this time with more confidence. "Pancake, pancake, pancake!" He reached out for Illumi, who was suddenly really interested in his cereal.

Kikyou looked from Illumi to Killua. "I don't understand."

Silva shrugged. "He wants pancakes for breakfast. I don't see any harm in that."

"But why . . . "

"He's fine, Kikyou. Now, you have a meeting with a client in an hour, I suggest you get ready."

"Well . . . all right." She picked Killua up and handed him to Illumi. "Look after him while I'm gone."

"Yes mother." She left.

Killua looked up at Illumi. "Pancake!"