Three months after the Exam.

He was there, back in the rainforest. Dread weighed his steps, as he searched for copper-red or blue-

-and nearly stepped on her hand. "What are you doing here?-"Cieran urgently whispered to the redhead... Piquan. Somehow, he knew her name. Wait, she never told me her name, but relief pressed the thought aside. "-Never mind. You need to get out of here-"

"Sshh!" Piquan's hand made towards his mouth as if to choke the noise from him, faltering before it could touch. "Why did you follow me?!" she hissed at a barely audible level, brow scrunching as if in disbelieving pain.

Damn. Pain which was real; patches of damp wet on green cloth and brown leather told of the tang of blood. Clean neat slices, as though someone had taken a deliberate knife to them.

Bandages already brought from his jacket pocket, he made to wrap them around a dripping head-cut-

Before the redhead ducking away from him brought him back from the unthinking motions of habit. Oh right. She's not his sister; not much reason for her to really trust me.

A shove to his chest, force surprisingly heavy for her size, as dark-green eyes lingered on the bandages outstretched in his hand. "Leave me alone Cieran." Moving from crouch to stand, her back was dismissive. "You will only get in the way."

Cieran opened his mouth to reply-

Several white blurs thudded into him. He couldn't feel anything like pain, but is body refused to respond…

Trees overhead, his body flat on the ground. Lifting his head, he propped his eyes open. Of all the things possible, there were… suit-cards on him.

In him. In his chest. In his throat.

Someone yelled. A scream. A screech. Flashes of colors, in between heavy darkness.

Piquan's face. A burning warmth, clutching back at the hand he could barely lift to calm horrified desperate eyes-

Sinking into darkness. Before something jerked, and he burned back into wakefulness-

With a gasp, Cieran woke to the present. His face almost hit grass, before hands insistent and a curl of feathers brushing against his bare back grounded him to the here-and-now.

Did that really happen to me? That meditation was unreal; it felt like all of that had just happened one second ago. Impossible… no.

Even if he and Piquan had passed the Exam – with an ease he'd have thought impossible just months ago, Piquan had been stronger than anyone other contestant once that clown-guy had been kicked out – that was the least amazing thing to have happened.

Magic's real, and I've got it, realized the newly-minted Hunter. Or a something close enough. Close enough to the legends, as there were rules he'd yet to learn, and reasons. Like how his fellow Hunter could help him sort-of-relive what must have been his memories of his amnesia during the Exam with her powers.

Cieran cleared his healthy – and not-bleeding-out, keeping that in mind helped ground him – throat. "Piquan. What was that?"

"…Maintain your ten." A nudge of sun-lit warmth; he drew up his lapsed nen as the redhead removed her hands to scoot in front of him. Asuln kept up a cat-like purr Cieran's shoulder like the weird-but-comforting heater he could be.

"Okay." Black under-eye markings shifted with scrunched eyes, then settled into a practiced study of calm as the fellow new-Hunter clasped her hands. "Tell me what you saw."

"I was there." Cieran began, searching for what he'd just saw. Words couldn't quite capture it, but... "-at least I think that was me. I was looking for you during the third phase. Then I found you. You were being your usual shy self-" Piquan cracked an eye open to glare; he smirked, before the gravity of the memory hit him.

"-The clown killed me-" If that really was from my memory like Piquan said she'd help me remember, I should have died-

"-No!" Dark-green snapped open, the hand stamping the grass with denial taking him aback. "You were not." Then the fiery redhead drew back, shoulders hunching in as Asuln flew to nestle himself against her.

"Piquan," Cieran placed his hand on her shoulder, "it's fine." Definitely an issue there. If she doesn't feel like sharing, it's not my business… except whatever it is is hurting her. "-don't worry. I'm here right? No matter what happened back then, I'm alive right now."

"…Of course you are." With a breath Piquan straightened, smoothing over the outburst as if it had never happened. "After you were… injured, examiner Mokkinuta came to where we were, and stopped Hisoka." A grimacing shudder and tight lips at the clown's name told of fear, and disgust, for the guy. "She expelled him from the Exam for attacking examiner Togari." Only then, when he'd already killed went unsaid; she'd been appalled how the examiners could care less about anyone besides their own.

"But you were dying. Examiner Mokkinuta said it wasn't worth bringing you to a healer." The annoyed frown slid into a sigh. "But since examiner Togari was too injured, the other examiners needed time to set up a new phase. It would take until the next morning… or so examiner Mokkinuta said." Her brow furrowed in thought, trailing off into a hushed mutter half to herself. "Was she giving us time? She did let us stay away from the others until it was time-"

Asuln pecked her head, and Piquan blinked, returning to the story. "Oh yeah. So I healed you. Everything else is as you recall when you woke."

"…So that's it, huh? You big softie!" Coarse-yet-clean red parted under his hand next to the feather-ball, before the kid shoved his ruffling-pat away with an protesting scowl. Three months together had loosened up the kid so that she wasn't so stiff around him all the time.

And let him learn to catch the nuances in her tone. She's still upset at something I said before. Yet she's still willing to be share more.

Well, then here goes. "Hey. Why me?" he asked. At the two head-tilts – kind of cute-in-a-creepy way how the bird tried to copy Piquan sometimes –, he went on. "'Course I appreciate you doing so since you saved my hide and all, but why'd you use your powers—er, nen to heal me?" I know you'd help complete strangers out—I've seen it the past months. Yet you couldn't during the Exam, since you couldn't save everyone and continue hiding yourself. You said you used them for that examiner, so that Hisoka couldn't go around killing everyone.

Yet you used them for me, a much weaker guy. You said I was your responsibility. Why?-

"-Because you're an idiot." The knuckle-rap against his forehead caught him by surprise, since the kid never started any body-contact outside of training.

"-hey, watch it!" The black-haired older teen protested, "that hurt! You've got armored gloves, remember?" He could swear he felt a bump on his head growing already. Man, she's never treated me like I was older than her Cieran inwardly complained, even if she is my teacher.

"And you deserved it." Piquan lifted her chin as Asuln sternly wagged his tails in front of Cieran's face. "You knew something was wrong, yet you continued your… search. Ignored your instincts and walked into danger." Crossed arms reflected her equally cross disapproval. "You can't ignore good instincts."

"I knew what I was doing." He sighed at the skeptical look he got, rolling his shoulders in a shrug. "Man, look, how do I put this…

"I knew I was going into danger. But then, so were you. Following after Hisoka?" Cieran shook his head. "Not better than me, you know." The older teen cut off the younger's protest. "-Yeah, I remember what you told me. You had to stop Hisoka from killing Togari or else he would have been free to murder everyone. But even if you were relying on your nen to escape, I know what I saw." Those cuts should have had you bleeding out. Even if weren't, fact remains you still had them. And I'm pretty sure you knew you were outclassed.

Yet you went in there anyway.

"So yes. Sometimes you have to ignore your instincts. Some things you can't run away from. They'll follow you no matter where you go." Ainya. Involuntarily, his fists clenched. I'm coming back for you. I promised.

Cheep. He looked up to dark-green and beady-black thoughtfully eyeing him. "…Alright. You can return to your home," Piquan abruptly said.

"What? Really?" You said I couldn't go leave you 'til I could control my nen. So why now?

"I know you want to return to your little sister," the shorter girl said, reaching for dry wood and tossing his balled-up clothes to pull on, "-and while your ten could still improve… you've mastered it enough. For now." The campfire stirred under her hands as she poked it into life, Asuln flying off into the woods at the first flame-flickers "But you still need to continue your training. So. Tell me how we're going to go to your home."

"Wait, no, you can't come with me," he spluttered. No way you know what to do in that part of the city. But cut himself off at the flash of hurt covered by an expressionless mask.

"Too bad. I'm still your Master in nen, so I choose when your training ends. And you definitely are still too weak to pass," she said, back turning away, not facing him. Like when she'd turned him away in his recently-recovered memory...

The older teen bristled at the insult, before remembering that look of hurt. She's hurt; thinks I don't trust her, he realized. And sighed. "Piquan. Look. I didn't mean it that way. I'd love for you to meet my sister. It's just that…"

Should I tell her? She's just a kid. She shouldn't be messing with this type of stuff.

…Oh, who am I kidding? Even Piquan hates killing people, she helped me pass the Hunter's Exam. She's seen decent fighters killed, and even held off that Hisoka guy long enough for the examiners to get there. Stronger than Cieran. An advantage, if things got ugly.

And even if he got the money, there was no telling if the Deartháirs would let him and Ainya walk away quietly. Not when they'd been so interested in them.

Then he was busy, making sure he stayed alive so he could rescue Ainya. Then making sure the kid new to the exam – and her pet, she never went anywhere without him – stayed out of trouble.

Maybe she'd never told him about where she'd come from despite him sharing, but she never seemed to lie about anything she did say.

For Ainya's sake, that was enough.

"There's trouble back home," Cieran interrupted into the otherwise sullen silence. "My sister who's also got red hair? She was taken hostage when I went to start the Exam prelims." Combing fingers back through his hair back helped manage the pit of frustration and anger he'd unearthed; better than loosing curses in front of his younger teacher. "My father. Even if he was never around, apparently the gangs tracked down where we lived.

"And even if he's dead, they say he had debts to pay off. Debts that me and my sister have to pay off." He had to remind himself to loosen his jaw, lest the teeth-grinding rage ruin his voice. Pay their debt, after they've taken blood. As if… but Ainya's still with them. "So I gotta' go back to pay off those debts. Apparently the debt's so big they say the only way they'll settle the debt – and let us go – is if I work for them."

I'm a Hunter now. And I can get that free-loan for my license if I can't earn any money any other way yet. I'm getting nen-training. More power and money than I would have months ago. I can't let that go to waste.

"So I need to make money to pay off the debts. Before the Deartháirs get tired of waiting and… try to make my sister pay for it." Those desperate gambler scum that sell out their daughters and wives to the casinos… I don't want Ainya to end up like that. He looked to Piquan, keeping his voice level to keep desperation out. "Can you help me get a job with enough pay?"

What he expected was maybe a pitying yes. At worst, a rejection. After all, he'd only known her for a few months, even if she teaching him nen.

Instead, he found resolution. An unwavering promise, without any hesitation.

"Of course. I know a place where they pay for you to fight. You can train and earn enough money to pay for expensive things at the same time." A nod, dark-green eyes already gazing away at forming-plans. "And if I fight too, there will be double the money. If need calls, there are… ways I can obtain money. Do not worry about the money.

"All you will have to do is focus on training. Then after we have enough, we'll go get your sister back." Dark-green sharpened on him. "I will push you harder than before, so that you get stronger."

Cieran's throat thickenedn as he swallowed. More from apprehension of the training, or gratefulness for the support, he couldn't say. "Thanks Piquan." I don't think I can repay her. First with the Exam and my life, and now this?

All I know is that I can be there for her when she does needs help. As a friend.

And despite the weeks of pure torture – all part of his "training", but Cieran was pretty sure normal training didn't involve pushups on poles over a roaring fire and stinging smoke – his opinion wouldn't change.

Even if his younger teacher learned some new not-so-decent words from him in turn, whenever the pain got too much to bear.


Five months after the Exam.

An ocean city, wooden boardwalks raising the stores off sand. Both gulls and men in serious looking suits patrolled the walk amidst strolling lightly-dressed families and gaudy entertainers. Salted sea-side breezes cooling off the clear afternoon yet only relieving the overwhelming smell of pipe-weed somewhat.

Hmm… Kyler and Lotra would have liked all the water here, at least. The crowds and resulting lack of prey, not so much, but the ocean was fascinatingly different from any of the largest lakes she and Asuln had visited.

It had been a feast for Asuln. Would still be, with him scaring off his competition from the stray pieces of perfectly-good-but-discard food within reassuringly sensible distance of her… if it wasn't for the current situation, of course.

Sucking the dregs of her iced tea and looking to order another drink from the waiter of the small café she was at, Piquan kept a calm face, thinking back as she looked out across the beachfront, drumming fingers and tapping a foot in forced idleness.

We've finally done it. After two months of training – fighting and earning money in the Heaven's Arena – Cieran had said they'd gathered enough funds to pay off the debt and rescue his sister. So they'd left Celestial City.

I think I've trained my first student adequately, despite all the complaining. You'd think he could have learned to train more quietly; it's going to take much longer before he can learn zetsu. And she hadn't complained as half as much as Cieran did the first few weeks the whole time Guro trained her.

Then again, Piquan hadn't been sure on how to go training him. She was of Hepe while Cieran was of Mandirigma, the warrior class; everything she'd been taught had been geared for manipulators, not enhancers. So she'd just gone with everything, and pushed him to his limits in every field possible. So maybe he had the right to complain.

Good teaching or not, he'd definitely gotten better, his nen enhancing already honed-reflexes and impromptu pole-fighting style to a decent nen-trainee's level.

And although he'd yet to complete his training, Cieran had come far from that ill-prepared yet kind-hearted stranger. They were not as close as she'd been – and could still be, she just needed to visit and introduce them to cellphones – with Kyler and Lalnene, but Piquan felt like she could trust Cieran. Even if he's so bull-headed when it comes to protecting children or girls; as if I was some helpless toddling to look after.

But despite how they met, living together in the master-and-student had let them get to know each other. To help each other.

The call had come in the middle of the night. The tinny-sound of some girl singing to headachy tunes had roused her from sleep. Asuln had not been happy, a mumbling-growl building in his throat.

But halfway into his puffball of scold, Asuln had pulled short, and Piquan hadn't needed to see why.

Nen steady as a pre-storm calm, Cieran's eyes deadly serious, as he'd listened to the far-off speaker on his electronic tool.

Seconds later, Cieran had closed his cell-phone, relief and apprehension warring on his face.

"They agreed. They'll clear the debt… but only on one condition.

That I meet with 'em first."

And here she was, above and across the street from a dark-windowed pub built into the first level of one of the few three-level buildings in the area. Watching as the man at the same table as Cieran – grey haired and steely-eyed underneath the cocked hat, crisp suit, and seemingly friendly-but-cold smile – acted like a caring grandfather with the hand he'd placed on the black-haired teen's reluctant shoulder.

Like an elder would for their younger clansmen, adding insult without injury with how his Dearthairs used Cieran's sister as a threat. As if he doesn't even know those broad-shouldered men in sunglasses nearby with suspicious bulges tucked within their clothes.

But by the way he held his tail-feathers and nen still, Asuln knew, perched as he was on her friend's shoulder with unfolded wings and parted beak ready to bring a gale in any moment.

Clink. "Here you are miss," the waiter said, drawing the young girl's attention back before her with his artful drizzle of cream, before inserting the slender spoon into her frothy iced fruit drink. While Cieran had needed the rest of the money, there was still enough left, and the highest building with the best view of the pub had been this café—coincidentally known as the best place for sweets in the area. It would be rude not to order anything while sitting at a place meant for dining.

And if she'd already ordered three different drinks in the ten minutes since the man had met Cieran… well, the energy would be needed if anything went wrong.

"Thank you-" she politely said. Aiming the drinking-straw towards her mouth, she paused, eyes widening as a diner at one of the café's particular tables drew her attention.

…Huh. That's a lot of dishes for one guy.

Granted, she'd seen Asuln eat more in relation to his body size. Not often, and only when he'd been pushing his considerably high limits. But still. He didn't look like he'd been near-starvation, not if he could afford to eat here. Only people with really-high metabolisms need to eat that much. She stretched for a better look, curiosity piqued.

Stacked empty plates lay on the small single-table across from hers. On the adjacent table, a shock of white-hair steadily made it's way through the rest with one hand propping it up against the table.

As for the diner; milk-white skin—unusual among the sea of skins here tanning from unblocked sun. The low aura of an Unawakened, yet with the steady pulse of an expert martial artist, the devoured food speaking to a fast metabolism of a physically-demanding lifestyle, with simple yet stylishly baggy clothes allowing for unimpeded movement. Overall, the look of a boy younger than her about two or three years.

And an icy glare, from eyes the blue of unyieldingly harsh mountain-lakes.

Piquan bristled immediately, with a glare of her own. Then remembered she'd been the one staring first, and embarrassedly ducked her head. No one appreciates stares from strangers, I know. He's got a right to be offended, not me.

A furtive glance. Yes, the suspicious glare remained, around two cheeks stuffed and chewing, smeared with chocolate frosting.

"Pff." She snorted a little at that, before turning her head as a flash of paper caught her eye.

Nothing, besides the Dearthair-man pushing papers and a pen towards Cieran. Who accepted them without hesitation – that made Piquan cringe, I really need to teach Cieran to use gyo more often – before Asuln landing on them and her own gyo reassured her.

No maliciousness in either items, beyond whatever conditions they spelled out that Cieran had just agreed to without consulting her or looking at the rest of the paper himself.

So careless! It's his family, he needs to have more caution- A slow breath, to 'calm the mind and bring clarity of thought'. Calm settles the water so you may always see deeper, no matter the level of your sight.

Piquan breathed in, reigning in her loosed nen. Cieran knows what he's doing. We talked about it earlier, so he must have had his reasons.

…Not good. Milk-white boy's stare had changed. There was calculation, the same gleam Cieran had whenever something caught his interest and refused to give up it's secrets.

Damn. The bracelet should have made sure no nen left my body; he's got a keen perception. Too keen for her liking.

"Check please." She could feel the focus intent on her, despite the blue-gaze – seemingly disinterested – turning elsewhere as she drained the last of her drink. And pulling out her recently-bought wallet intensified it, when her fumbling for bills dropped her collection of cards – bank card & Hunter's License included – for a moment before she could pluck them mid-fall.

Although Piquan drew ignorance around her like a cloak when leaving, her License card went into her quiver instead of wallet. I've had enough of all the pickpockets. For some weird reason there'd been a lot of people almost bumping into her and Cieran ever since they'd finished the Exam. Suspiciously so, since she went out of her way to avoid unnecessary body contact.

And after the fifth time that'd happened, she'd confirmed her suspicions. Let a guy successfully 'fall' onto her, apologize, and go on his way… with her License in his hand. At least before Asuln had fallen on him in a snit of righteous scratching-pecking-fury to retrieve the card she'd already imbued with her nen. Let white try his hand at stealing. I'm ready.

No move came though, white remaining in the same spot as she exited the café. Still. She made sure to take note of that steady aura.

"Chirp!" Asuln landed in her air in a flutter of wings, rooting himself into a comfortable position as his tails draped around her shoulders.

"Piquan!" Cieran walked briskly towards her, brandishing a document like a trophy. "It's finally done." We've done it.

She sighed. "Did you even read the terms before signing?"

"Piquaan," he sighed, wave the page. "I know these types of guys. The paper's only a formality; the real deal's in the people they send." Black eyes were sincere, full of confidence. "I have the money, so they're honor-bound to clear my debt. Don't worry 'bout it."

"Hm… if you say so."

"Right." Cieran's aura flickered with relief, celebration, and an eagerness to go. "Since that's taken care of, let's go take the trains and meet my sister… then I can show you around my hometown. Ainya makes the meanest cottage pie-"

Her friend's good mood was infectious. Piquan let her worries from earlier wash away.

So when a familiar face showed up a day later on the frontlines of a local newspaper with headlines screaming Cornelius Cummiskey's Life Gruesomely Cutoff, the incident only raised a few thoughts before Cieran's sister whisked her away from the newsstand for clothes shopping.

Cieran's meeting, and whether there was any connection to it and the assassination of the Dearthair. Would Cieran would be suspected…?

And if the recollection of lake-blue eyes, and milk white hair instantly came to mind…well, the boy hadn't showed up to steal their Licenses as she'd been wary of, despite the interest he'd shown after her accidental leak of otherwise well-concealed nen and her License card.

Nothing more, besides a boy with sharp instincts and keener senses.


Killua Zoldyck could have cared less about the job itself.

It'd been easy. One pop of his claws, and one twist of the wrist. As usual.

Nothing remotely satisfying or fun about the job. But it'd been near a café famous for its sweets. Beaches. Candy-shops nearby. Might as well have checked it out.

Turns out the desserts had been decent. Something to pass the time with at least, to travel earlier than the assigned day, get away from a home, from family he couldn't stand anymore…

Killua hadn't expected anything to be really interesting besides the food.

…Until some staring weirdo had almost reminded him of Illumi, for one split second.

Inside, he'd almost panicked. Illumi couldn't have sent one of his puppets; he'd always preferred to follow Killua himself, not that was any better-

But the staring redhead hadn't acted like a puppet, if he could feel enough embarrassment to turn away like all the other strangers did when he stared back.

The flash of twin x's on red on a falling card he'd glimpsed gave him an idea. So weirdo was one of those Hunters…

What if I become a Hunter?

It was supposed to be dangerous. Exciting. Challenging, but something he could pass easily enough.

When he got it, he could stay anywhere in the world he wanted. Buy whatever he wanted, when he wanted to. Let him get away from the house, for good.

Away from Illumi. Away from the boredom that was his life.

(Away from the niggling sensation he was forgetting something, someone important whenever he was at home.)

Flicking blood from his nails and hands, Killua hopped over the target's body. Lifted one of the cooling hands, and carefully picked up the poster from where it'd fallen. Wiped another red stain off it with one of the drier shirt-sleeves that wouldn't be missed among the other bodies.

Checked the date and pickup locations for the Exam in the Republic of Padokea.

One year 'till the nearest date. One year in that home 'till he could leave.

…Just had to make sure he didn't explode of boredom.


Translations and Explanations

suit card – a regional term for playing cards.

ten – canon nen-technique of maintaining nen around the body to keep it from leaking away. Most basic defense technique.

Deartháir – "brother" (Irish). Spelling is awfully close to death-air. One of the numerous crime gangs in the story in Cieran's hometown.

zetsu – canon nen-technique of completely hiding one's nen so as to appear invisible nen-wise.

Hepe – the Great Spirit of Manipulaters.

Mandirigma – the Great Spirit of Enhancers

Unawakened – someone who cannot actively see, sense, or use nen.
Awakened – nen-user

gyo – canon nen-technique of focusing nen in the eyes to enhance eyesight and "see" harder-to-see or concealed nen.

Needleman – canon-technique of Illumi Zoldyck. A person Illumi has direct control over by implanting one of his needles into.