The rattling of keys and the click of the front lock opening drew Hisoka's attention. He was once again in the picturesque living room building his house of cards. All five children had left for school of their own accord (Machi stomping out of the house without giving Hisoka any look asides from a truly evil eye) shortly after he had walked into the kitchen and then spent the better part of the morning cleaning up the mess left behind. Now the jester climbed to his feet and watched, leaning against the frame of the entryway to the hall, as a withdrawn and solemn Mito came in. Her moves were slow and seemed pained, a white paper bag clutched to her chest. Hisoka observed the puffy red cheeks, the blood shot look in the woman's eyes, and the tremors that seemed to possess her body. Whatever had happened...

The red head moved to take the bag from his cousin and offer support but she refused to hand over the bag, shaking her head vehemently and backing away from Hisoka with the eyes of a terrified child.

"Mito?" He softly asked, reaching this time for her shoulder as she swayed. "Mito what's wrong?!"

Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes but she just shook her head and moved towards the kitchen. He could only watch as she barely seemed to have the strength to pick her feet up, the soles of her shoes (which Mito had neglected to take off) getting stuck to the hardwood every so often and causing her to stumble and land heavily against the wall before shoving herself away. The bag was never released for a second. Whatever had happened was bad. Not the 'okay we can fix this and move on' kind of bad but the 'fucking fuck fuck' kind that you never got over or forgot.

He made it to the doorway of the kitchen in time to see Mito set the kettle on the stove, turning on the burner with one arm still tightly holding the bag to her chest. Never had he seen her this dejected, the sight was turning his stomach to the point where all he wanted to do was turn away and leave, to forget all about this and carry on with his own life. Before he would have done so without guilt, but Mito had done too much for him in recent years that turning away now left a bad taste in his mouth. He was growing softer the older he got.

Mito's body once more swayed and if Hisoka had not reacted as quickly as he did she would have collapsed to the floor, a strong possibility of her head hitting hard enough to leave temporary or permanent damage. Kneeling with her in his arms Hisoka felt the chill Mito's skin had, the paler of her skin and the dark bags beneath her eyes. It was as though she had lived through a nightmare.

"Alright, Mito you need to work with me here. Come up, up we go." Keeping her body crushed against his own, supporting all her weight, Hisoka brought the two of them to their feet and walked Mito back to the living room. She was forcibly made to sit on the couch, though Hisoka had to constantly order her to stay there and not stand up. The whistling kettle called Hisoka back to the kitchen. He quickly poured the boiling water into a teapot, letting it steeped as he prepared two mugs... Two mugs? One for him and one for Mito...

Hisoka's head jerked up towards the front door though he couldn't see it from the kitchen, growing panic lighting up his eyes. Where was Wing? He hadn't been home, which was why Mito had called Hisoka... in a panic. Mito had called Hisoka in a panic... What had happened to Wing?

It took a lot of will power for Hisoka to stay where he was and finish preparing the tea. All he wanted to do, felt what he needed to do, was return to Mito and find out what happened to the other man. Swallowing to wet his suddenly dry throat Hisoka knew on some subconscious level that today was going to end horribly, if it wasn't already a horrible day. Tapping his fingernails against the counter the jester was impatient for the tea and decided it had steeped long enough. The way Mito was he doubted she would even notice if the tea was weak or not.

Returning to his cousin with the two mugs, Hisoka had to forcibly pry one of her hands away from the bag that seemed to be acting as a life line and curl her fingers around the warm ceramic before she even noticed its existence.

Time passed the house occupants in utter silence until it grew to be midafternoon and the spell was broken with the familiar sound of the front door banging open, backpacks and shoes being deposited to the floor, and happy announcements of arrival shouted. Neither Hisoka or Mito got up to greet the children as they would have done on another occasion. Seconds of a new silence, this one filled with apprehension, brought all five children into view. Illumi and Machi were standing behind the younger ones, keen eyes taking in the huddled posture of Mito and the downward tilted chin of Hisoka. Killua, Gon, and Zushi understood nothing, having the innocence of youth to allow them to utter questions adults would have known to phrase more delicately.

"What's wrong mom?"

"Where have you been Aunt Mito?"

"Where is my dad?"

"How come you both look terrible?" The last statement, spoken by Killua, seemed to be Mito's breaking point. Great big tears overflowed and she let out a loud sob, hiding her face in her hands while Hisoka, who sat next to Mito on the couch, never moved. Gon and Zushi glared at Killua. "What did I do?"

Behind their backs Machi rolled her eyes and crossed her arms but for once did not immediately walk off to hide away in her bedroom. She stayed, showing very little emotion, but inside wondering what was causing Mito's breakdown. The pinkette had never seen something shake this woman, whom was the only living relative she retained, that usually seemed so happy. Looking from the corner of her eye to catch Illumi's look Machi shrugged her shoulders and stayed silent.

The silver haired boy shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and ducked his head from his friends' continuous glares, violet eyes training themselves to the floor so that Killua missed it when Hisoka finally moved to comfort Mito though he could hear it.

"Breath," the jester reminded his cousin as he removed the empty mug from her clasped hands and placed it on the coffee table, beside the formally relinquished paper bag, "breath."

It took a few breaths, some hiccups, and constant swiping at her eyes but Mito eventually calmed down. And soon after, with broken sentences, Mito managed to tell everyone what had happened last night... and that Wing would never again be coming home.

Laughing, Mito threaded her arm through that of her boyfriend's and pulled him closer to her as the two walked down the sidewalk. It was a gorgeous early spring day, the breeze carrying a very faint bite reminiscent of the long winter but the warmth of the sun slowly pushed it away. As their kids were all in school it was the perfect opportunity for them to spend time together; a simple lunch date followed by a leisurely walk home.

The two stopped at the corner of an intersection, waiting for the signal to cross. Wing, with his white button up shirt half tucked and half un-tucked as per usual, turned to Mito. He took her left hand into his right, intertwining their fingers and bringing the back of her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. His black eyes never left her happily smiling face, light pink dusting the top of her cheeks as she blushed.

The signal turned green and Wing tugged Mito along behind him, stepping onto the road unaware of the speeding car that had just rounded a different corner. Time seemed to slow as the vehicle approached the two. It was Mito who was the first to spot it from the corner of her eye, her head turning to stare at it in horror. Her eyes widened, feet becoming rooted where she stood, and voice caught in her throat. She tried to scream, needed to warn Wing to get out of the way, but before she could find her voice again he had already seen the car. Wing pushed Mito out of the way, her body landing back on the relative safety of the sidewalk as the car collided with his lower body. The impact sent Wing rolling over the car as Mito was helpless to look on, hearing the sickening sound of multiple bones breaking as gravity pulled the man back down. The head of dark hair bounced, a thick pool of red forming rapidly beneath it.

Gazing in horror at seeing the man she loved shattered before her eyes, Mito could only react in one way. Her stomach lurched and the lunch, so recently consumed that it was barely digested at all, came back up. Mito retched until nothing was left and only then could her mind focus beyond herself.

Luckily others who had witnessed the accident had responded faster and police and paramedics were already en route.

Shortly after the ambulance arrived Wing was loaded up and taken to the nearest hospital, while Mito looked on with a hopeless expression. Her Wing...

"Ma'am?" A middle aged officer approached Mito, crouching in front of her so she could no longer see the flashing lights but could still hear the ambulance's sirens. "Ma'am are you all right?" He asked again, waving over a paramedic from the secondary ambulance when she still failed to respond.

Once Mito arrived at the hospital, Wing had already been admitted to emergency surgery and she had been cleared, only suffering from severe shock, which was being treated with a large cup of coffee and a stale donut courtesy of the policeman who had driven her over.

Sitting in the corridor just outside of the operating rooms, half finished coffee in hand, Mito jumped up at the realization that no one would be home to greet the kids. Fresh panic set in. Since she could do nothing but pray for Wing, Mito devoted her thoughts and energy towards finding someone to watch the kids until...

Shaking hands reached into her purse, digging around for her cell phone.

"I'm sorry miss, you can't use that in here." A passing nurse informed Mito as she was just about to dial the first number, that of her mother. She jumped in fright, knocking over the now cold cup of coffee.

"I-I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm s-so s-so-sorry." Mito blubbered as she frantically tried to wipe up the liquid, not in the least aware that she was using only her hand and spreading it.

"It's all right... Why don't you go outside, get some air, and call whoever you need to call. I'll stay and clean this right up no worries." The kind brunette helped Mito to her feet, pushing her in the direction of the exit doors.

Gravel crunched underfoot, numerous car doors closed, and the mourners slowly dispersed as the funeral service came to an end. The vast cemetery was returned to the lonesome place it was, only Mito, Hisoka, and the five children remaining behind. Even the man who had conducted the burial was on his way indoors, not wanting to be out in the open when the overhanging clouds broke apart to release the torrent of rain that was predicted to happen that afternoon.

The seven were dressed in black attire, the males in suits while the females wore knee length dresses. Mito's face was finally dry, her tears having stopped though her grief was still fresh. Zushi on the other hand was balling, his sobs the only noise over that of the dead. Gon too was very close to tears, his face still red from the first round, and even Killua's eyes glistened heavily. The only impassive faces belonged to Hisoka, Illumi, and Machi.

In time, even they drifted away from the fresh grave - Mito lingering behind so she could trail her fingers over the cold headstone. She placed a tender kiss to the marble, forcing her feet to carry her away and rejoin her children and cousin.

WING

BELOVED FATHER, SON, PARTNER, AND FRIEND

19XX - 20XX