You can cry away all your complicated memories
That keep you up so many nights
But darling, save your apologies
'Cause I know that you're scared
But I swear you'll be alright
I swear you're alright
You're alright
~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls
Illumi lay there in bed, wishing he could cry. Nighttime slipped by. Hisoka came home around one in the morning, judging from the sound of his steps outside.
Illumi wished he could sleep. But he couldn't do that, either.
Just lie there, empty.
His parents would hate him now.
Did they already hate him? Had they hated him since he was born? Since he wasn't good enough? When had he shown them that he wasn't good enough? What had he done? Was it the coffee?
I want to go back and change it.
I can't earn it back, can I? You'll never forgive me for—for—I don't even know what for. Can't you tell me what I did wrong?
Kalluto snored lightly. Illumi almost smiled.
He wished he could talk to Hisoka. Why wasn't I enough for you?
The scary thing was, when Hisoka's words echoed in his memories, begging him to be angry with him, he almost wondered if he was.
He drifted off when salmon scales started to glow against a dark sky. His sleep was fitful and gray. He hear rustling, but he couldn't bring himself to move. All of his limbs felt heavy, weighted. He couldn't move.
"Illumi."
Someone was calling his name. The name his parents had given him. He wondered why his mother had chosen it, if she'd put much thought into it, because to her their names didn't matter besides the last name.
He drifted again, and saw Hisoka laughing at him, over him, tossing a card in the air.
Catch me.
Someone. Please.
Hold me. Don't let me go.
His head throbbed.
"Illumi, wake up."
His eyelids didn't want to move. He stirred.
"Nii-san."
His eyes cracked open. His headache blurred his vision. And then he took in the figure standing in front of him, slowly coming into focus. White hair. Blue eyes.
Huh? Illumi jerked up. He gaped. "Kil?" Why would you be here? Am I still asleep? What the—what? He didn't understand. He couldn't. He'd just—
Killua stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Kalluto and I talked. And he said you'd broken up with your boyfriend."
Huh? "Fake boyfriend," Illumi said quickly.
Killua's brow wrinkled.
"I mean," said Illumi. "I—" He stopped. Was it fake? Was it?
Was any of this real? Our family? We loved—they said—was any of it real?
I know. I know I loved you, Killua. You're my little brother.
I just sucked at showing it.
"He also said you were gonna testify against Mom and Dad," Killua added.
Illumi swallowed. He nodded. "I didn't—think you would want to talk to me, but—" If you would, I'd testify a million times against them.
I just want someone to love me. I want to matter, to anyone.
Do I even deserve to ask that of you? I have no idea how to love someone. I know I tried, but I did it badly, with you. He wiped at his eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Huh?" Now Killua looked shocked.
"I'm sorry I—was a terrible older brother. I know I hurt you. And to Alluka—I don't even know her, they—I—" He squeezed his fists together. "I don't know, I don't, what I did or what they did, but I—" He swallowed, hunching his shoulders. "I am even terrible at apologizing. I don't know how."
What do you want from me?
Hisoka's voice echoed. If Killua wanted you, he'd come to you.
But he was here now. Illumi sat up straighter. "I am sorry. Is the Freecss home like this one? Do you feel happy there?"
Killua took a step back. "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"
"Pardon?" Illumi frowned. He tapped his chin.
"Nope, that's definitely you." Killua sighed. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I always hated what they made us do."
Illumi nodded.
"I still thought Dad—I thought he was the best one. He gave me a little room to breathe, but he—he was talking about sending Alluka away and I—" Killua clenched his fists. "He wouldn't even let me see her. He wasn't the best one. He—"
"I know," Illumi whispered.
"Well, I'm here to say it wasn't all on you like I—might have thought it was for a long time." Killua met his eyes.
Illumi blinked. You—me?
And you're apologizing to me?
He was so much better than Illumi ever would be. In every way. Illumi wasn't ever able to lead or guide him. I'm worthless.
I've always been worthless.
A sob broke through his lips.
"Are you crying?" Killua asked, surprised.
He didn't know what to say or do. Was this manipulating? What was real? What was evil? What was him? Were they exclusive or conflated more often than not? Would anything ever be simple again? Help me; somebody help me!
You did. You're here, and you ran away to... save yourself, and Alluka, and you're saving us all. You helped me. "What made you decide to run away?"
Killua studied him, his eyes filled with worry. "Gon offered when we were at camp—when I went back and found out about Alluka, I took the chance." Killua rested his chin on his knee. "It was different, being in a family where they cared about each other."
Not that Gon's father did. But maybe—maybe they didn't need him to have a family. Gon, his cousin/mother, and now Killua and Alluka.
"Is Alluka here?" Illumi whispered.
Killua hesitated. He nodded.
"I—" Illumi studied his hands. "I want to apologize to her."
"It's been good for her," Killua said. "Meeting more people, finding out that more people can love her. She has friends, now. Before it was just me, and she said that was fine, but—"
"That doesn't make you feel scared at all?" Illumi interrupted. "I mean, that she might love you less, since—" He cut himself off. Idiot.
Killua studied him. "No. I just—I wanted to protect her. And that's dangerous, letting her go to school, her own classes—she does quite well, you know, and we don't need homeschool when—"
"Wow," Illumi said.
Killua, I wanted—I want still—to protect you.
But letting you go—you're blossoming. You're better for it.
"Can I ask what a fake boyfriend is?" Killua said. He held up his phone. "I just texted Alluka."
Even though I'm bad at apologizing? "No." Illumi's cheeks colored. Killua blanched. "If Kalluto wants to stay with you—if Mito Freecss is willing—that's acceptable too. I'll tell him that."
"Isn't he staying with you?"
"Yes, but—whatever he wants," said Illumi. Shame crippled his voice. He couldn't continue.
The door opened, and Kalluto entered, following by—Alluka. Still with her hair long, just like Illumi's, and with his eyes and Killua's blue hue. She looked at him, scared.
"Alluka," Illumi managed. "I'm sorry. For what they did to you, what I allowed, what I did—I'm going to make sure our parents can't hurt you anymore."
I may be worthless, but I can at least try that. Please let me try to protect you this once.
Alluka blinked. "Are you okay?"
"What?"
"You've been crying."
"Because I hurt you," Illumi said. "And it was wrong." I made you feel like this, didn't I? Worthless.
You aren't.
"You matter," Illumi choked out. "I'll make sure you know it now, Alluka. You matter, and I was so wrong not to treat you like that. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I will say how sorry I am." I wish I could love you. I want to know you.
Why did they steal that from us? A flicker of something he hadn't acknowledged in years burned. Anger. He'd thought it all burned to ash long ago, but here, it ignited. Why did I let them?
"Nii-san," said Alluka. "You like me?"
"I want to," Illumi answered. He didn't understand. And then, he did. You just wanted to be liked. "Yes," he said. "Alluka, I like you. I like you far better than I like me."
Killua was crying. Illumi didn't undestand. "Kil?"
Killua grabbed Illumi in a hug. His chest heaved, and Illumi understood, just like he did when KAlluto hugged him. You wanted this. And now, Alluka's arms wrapping around them both, he knew.
I wanted this, too.
When Kurapika woke up, soft sunlight filtered through the crimson curtains. He sat up slowly, taking in the room. Chrollo's. The man was asleep next to him. A spider tattoo rested over his heart, but the spider had twelve legs. Incorrect.
"Morning," mumbled Chrollo without opening his eyes.
"Your tattoo is wrong," Kurapika informed him.
Chrollo scowled. "It is not. There's one leg for each other person in this house."
"You're much more sentimental than I thought, then," Kurapika responded. Chrollo's eyes widened in surprise. Kurapika liked it, that look, the surprise. Not everything was fate. He leaned down, brushing his lips against Chrollo's.
It was nice to feel wanted. And yet he was afraid, too, remembering just how upset he'd been with Chrollo, how he projected onto him. It was you, but it was also me. I didn't want to be a fool. I didn't want to be alone. I wanted a distraction, I wanted to use someone, and you were there.
Perhaps he had been far less malicious, but it wasn't untrue. Kurapika eased himself up.
"Bonolenov did the tattoo," Chrollo said. "He has a bit of a talent. Not licensed, of course, but—"
Kurapika rolled his eyes. He fumbled for his clothing, stepping into his jeans.
"We never did talk about Fathers and Sons," Chrollo said, clutching the pillow Kurapika had just vacated to his chest.
"We can meet up again," Kurapika said. "If you'd—want to. I mean, we have to for our—"
Chrollo sat up, hair tousled. "I'd like to."
Kurapika heaved a sigh of relief. Even after how angry I was, you still think there's good in me. Enough to pursue me, for me.
I want to believe that about me, too.
It's so hard.
"You can make tea downstairs," Chrollo suggested. "I have to do my hair."
"Oh, so it's not natural?" Kurapika opened the door and halted. His stomach clenched. "We're fucked."
"Huh?" Chrollo peered around him.
Hisoka had just emerged from the bathroom in a towel, hair plastered against his forehead. He froze, one hand holding the towel secure and one hand on his shoulder. "Well, well. I mean, I presume that was what you were doing."
"Huh?"
"Fucking each other."
Kurapika's face burned. "Bastard."
"Hope you had fun." Hisoka ducked into his room.
"Pay him no mind," Chrollo advised.
"Aren't he and Illumi—"
"They broke up." Chrollo frowned. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Kurapika?"
He turned.
"It wasn't just what Hisoka said. I had sex with you because I... I like spending time with you." He hugged the pillow against his chest, studying his bare feet on the wooden floor. He lifted his head. "Christ. I really like you."
His heart pounded. Are you saying what I think you're saying? He had no idea how this worked, this dating thing, this sex thing, any of it. He sucked at conversations, but he knew, he knew. There was a fissure inside him, and Chrollo had broken it open, and he couldn't stop it and he didn't want to. It wasn't drowning him. It could, but it was moving him, lifting him up. "I wouldn't have lost my virginity to someone I just wanted to have one night with," Kurapika admitted. He clenched his hands together. Why was communication so damn hard?
Chrollo's lips curved, and his eyes glowed. Fuck, he looked so pretty like that. Surprised. Happy. "So let's give it a try, shall we?"
"Yeah," Kurapika said. "Let's give it a try." His throat tightened. He was scared. But, he wanted to.
Kurapika glanced at Illumi's closed door as he headed down the stairs. A heavy feeling settled in his chest. He made it to the kitchen, where he found Machi sitting at the table with a glass of milk and looking green, while Oito handed her saltine crackers. Woble whimpered.
"Kurapika?" exclaimed Oito. "I didn't know you'd come over!" She gave him a quick hug. "How are you doing?"
"I didn't hear the front door," Machi said icily. She rose.
Oh, hell. A pink hurricane was about to descend. Kurapika turned to Woble. "She looks bigger!"
Distractions weren't going to work. "If you hurt Chrollo I swear to God I will pluck out your—"
"What?" demanded Oito.
"He slept over; look at his neck!" Machi shrieked.
My neck? Kurapika reached up and slapped his palm over it. His face boiled. He hunched his shoulders.
Oito lifted her eyebrows. A soft smile played with her lips.
"Are you just fucking with him?" Machi asked.
"Machi, there's a baby here," Kurapika pointed out. Woble reached for him and he took her, bouncing her. She let out a coo, clapping her hands together. You matter. You matter most.
You are so loved, little baby.
Machi cringed. "Don't play with him. I mean it. I—"
You don't want someone you care about to get hurt.
You want to protect them.
"I have no intention of hurting him," Kurapika whispered. "It wasn't just a casual thing."
"Huh?" Machi gripped the counter.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs. Machi groaned. Kurapika set water on to boil, still holding Woble.
Hisoka appeared, hair gelled and styled. He opened the fridge.
"Your boyfriend left with his brother," Oito said.
"Huh?" Hisoka spun around, golden eyes darting form Oito to Kurapika to Machi. The fridge swung shut, his hands still empty.
"Killua," said Machi. "He came over and he left with Illumi, Kalluto, and Alluka. I think they were going to see Milluki. Illumi looked like he had been crying. Guess he's taking that break up pretty—"
"It wasn't a break up!" Hisoka snapped. His jaw twitched.
"Shut up and be honest with yourself for once," Machi retorted. "Look, idiot clown. You're stupid, but I know you."
"In the Biblical sense: once, yes."
"Don't make me puke; I don't need any help with that!" Machi jabbed her finger at him. Kurapika exchanged a glance with Oito. "Illumi apologized to Alluka and Killua—"
"He what?" Hisoka's mouth actually hung open.
"Yeah," Machi said. "He—"
"I heard it," reported Nobunaga, appearing with Phinks behind him. Phinks swung his bookbag down and sauntered over to Kurapika, gesturing for Woble. Kurapika turned away. But Woble whimpered, reaching for Phinks.
Traitor. Kurapika smirked as he handed her over. Oito's eyes looked solemn.
"He sounded sincerely sorry," Nobunaga said. "And Alluka said it was okay. She's like, one strong kid. Like, she could have survived in Meteor City strong."
"All of them are," Oito said quietly. "From what I know."
"Eh, Illumi—"
"Shut up," Hisoka told Nobunaga. "You don't know him."
"I wasn't going to say anything bad!"
"What happening?" asked Feitan as he came into the kitchen. He frowned at Machi, who was now looking pale and sweaty.
"Party in the kitchen?" Chrollo appeared, strolling over to Kurapika. He put an arm around him.
Is your confidence just a mask? Kurapika leaned his head back. This was new for him, public affection.
"You tell me," Hisoka said. "I wake up to find out Chrollo and Kurapika are fucking, Illumi apologized and to of all people someone he actually hurt in his sister, and I'm pretty sure I might as well dye my hair teal and wear a polo shirt because everything is opposite today."
Machi turned and raced towards the sink. She hurled.
"Shit!" Kurapika jumped. Feitan rushed over to her. Oito held her pink hair back.
"Machi, should you see a doctor or something?" asked Nobunaga. "I mean, you've been sick an awful lot lately."
"She has?" asked Hisoka. His eyes narrowed.
Kurapika let out a gasp. He clamped his hand over his mouth as Machi lifted her head and shot daggers at both him and Hisoka.
"Oh Christ," blurted out Hisoka.
"Don't—" started Oito.
"Holy shit!" shrieked Nobunaga.
I fucking hate living with a bunch of men; they're all morons.
Machi clutched the kitchen counter, still double over and her throat clamping as if it couldn't decide if it wanted to continue to retch or to cease for a few hours so she could actually eat something other than those bland crackers.
Woble whimpered. Oito reached for her daughter, glancing at Machi with her brows pinched together.
"What?" asked Feitan. "What you—"
"Machi's—" Nobunaga gestured.
"Don't jump to conclusions," Chrollo reprimanded him. "She—"
"Wait, what?" asked Phinks. "I'm confused."
Hisoka snorted. "Feitan, you're a fucking biology—"
"Biological engineering—"
Machi held up her middle finger at all of them. "Not you, Oito."
"I wasn't worried." Oito gave a wry smile.
"Chrollo, I hate your new boyfriend," Machi said. "If he hadn't—"
"How is this my fault?" Kurapika exclaimed.
"Would someone tell me what is going on?" Phinks looked like a kicked puppy dog. His lips trembled.
"It doesn't matter!" Machi yelled. "It's my body and my business and—"
Chrollo's mug of tea tilted in his hands, spilling onto his foot. He yelped. But his eyes found hers. For real?
Are you all that surprised dicks have consequences? Machi put her hands on her hips and let out a huff. "You're all—"
"Machi," said Feitan. "What—"
"I'm pregnant," she said to him. The words came out clipped.
Feitan's face drained of color. His eyes grew cold, the concern freezing over, cracking. His cheeks hardened. He yanked his scarf up to his nose and turned, storming out of the kitchen.
"Why's he mad?" asked Nobunaga, scratching his head.
"Because it's his," said Machi, drumming her fingers on the counter.
"The fuck?" screamed Nobunaga. Hisoka let out a strange laugh. Kurapika and Chrollo exchanged a look. Phinks crossed his arms. Oito took a step back.
"What?" Machi demanded.
"So is this the first time he found out?" Phinks demanded. "He's my friend, and you're—"
"Have you ever called him that before?" Machi shot back.
"So he deserves—"
You think I don't know that? Machi glared at him.
"It's scary," Oito interjected. "I would know."
Machi's first instinct was to retort that she wasn't scared, not her. But Oito had been way too kind for her to be so rude. And, she was scared.
"You know," said Hisoka. "From an ex—"
"You don't count as an ex, you were a pity fuck—"
"Well, I can still say that if you have something to say to him, maybe just do it," said Hisoka. "Don't blue ball yourself."
"Ew," said Kurapika.
"Same back at you, clown," Machi snapped.
"I know." Hisoka scowled. "I'm still very disappointed in myself for not realize you two were fucking. Like, is his size—"
"He's better than you," Machi said. "Best sex I've ever had. He knows how to satisfy a girl."
"What's that supposed to mean?" cried out Hisoka.
Chrollo clutched his scalp, shock still permeating his features. Kurapika elbowed him.
"I heard all that!" hollered Shizuku from upstairs. "Congratulations!"
Congratulations. Machi swallowed. Her eyes stung.
"Shizuku—" started Nobunaga.
Machi pushed past them all, heading to Feitan's room. The door was locked. She kicked it open.
"The hell?" demanded Feitan from where he was sitting on his bed, knees against his chest. "What you want?"
Machi slammed the door and marched over to him. "I'm pregnant. Six or seven weeks. It's yours."
"I know it mine," Feitan said. He tugged the scarf up higher.
Don't do that. Stop it. Just stop it! "I want to keep it."
His eyes widened.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"It your decision. Your body."
Oh, for fuck's sake. Machi stomped her foot. "I'm asking you for your opinion! Because I want to hear it! I want to know if you'd be in or out, regardless of—"
"Do you want me in?" Feitan asked. "You tell Oito, but not me. I—"
Machi swallowed. She clenched her fists. "I didn't know how serious we were. I didn't—" Ask. "I might have to move out, you know. Because—"
"Why?" asked Feitan. "We already have Oito and Woble here, another baby—"
"Well—"
"Would you want to stay?" he asked. "I want to. This place—is a family, and I don't know—you—"
"I thought it was a house," Machi corrected.
Feitan glowered. The scarf slipped lower. "With you in it."
Machi didn't know what to say. She dropped down next to him, folding her arms around her midsection. She hunched over, waiting.
"I like you," whispered Feitan. "I like you a lot. I don't want—you to go away. If you want baby, I can—but I don't know how to be—a family. Besides ask you to stay. I never had, so—"
"I never had one, either," Machi said. "But I dreamed about one." The room was so dark, shades still drawn against the sun. No shadows even crept across the floor.
"I never did. People were pain. I had to run from them or be in pain, or hurt them to not be in pain. Here, we all did our own thing, but—" Feitan played with the edges of his scarf. "But you—I like. I like this place. I like people in it."
"If I keep it," said Machi. "I'm afraid I'll be a terrible mother."
Feitan turned to her, jaw open. "You never be a terrible anything."
Machi rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter me."
"I mean it." Feitan exhaled. "I don't know how to be a dad."
"Phinks wants to be Woble's dad; maybe you can figure it out together."
Feitan's lips pressed together. "He what?"
"He has a massive crush on Oito. That's obvious."
"She pretty."
"She is."
"Not pretty as you," Feitan added quickly. And then he scowled. "You know I rather figure it out with you."
Machi's heart skipped a beat in her chest. It felt so strange. Girlish, even. Innocent, in a way she'd never been and never cared to be. "I want—our baby to be loved. But I have no idea what it looks like."
"I maybe love you," offered Feitan. He turned to her, dark hair against his cheekbones, scarf hanging low.
Machi swallowed. Do I love you?
I don't know what it looks like.
I am afraid to trust you.
It's all just fear. Not bravado, not hardened cynicism. It's fear.
You make me less afraid, and more, and you make me stronger, and weaker, and I want it. She felt like she'd been woken up and pulled from a glass coffin, by words she never wanted to hear nor thought of getting to hear, and yet when she heard them, it dislodged something in her throat, and it was like she could breathe again, and she needed to do something or else she'd fucking cry and she couldn't have that.
Machi leaned in, covering his lips with hers. He pushed her back, kissing her navel, and she knew he knew. She was afraid, sometimes. But he didn't see her as less than strong.
Maybe you do love me.
"Lonely again?"
He had seen her coming. Well, sensed her, not seen. Hisoka didn't bother to turn around and face her. "Are you stalking me?"
"Doesn't matter, does it?" Morena stood behind the bench he sat on. The sky was cluttered with clustered clouds, clipping out any semblance of sun. Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Penny for your thoughts?"
"They're worth more than that."
"Sex?"
"Not interested." Hisoka scowled.
Machi and Feitan were having a baby. And they were happy about it. And they were together, even after Machi didn't tell him right away. Not that Hisoka could blame Machi. But he envied her. Fuck.
"Do you have a conscience, or is it just that you really, really want that Zoldyck boy?"
"What is your game?" Hisoka demanded. "How does this help you take down your stupid father or your brother or any of it?"
"I want to destroy everything," said Morena. "I hate you, you know. I hate you, and I hate everyone in that house, because you all tolerate each other. I can't tolerate anyone, or anything. People flock to me when I don't give a shit about them."
"Have you considered applying for the next level on your Edgelord Card?"
Morena slipped onto the bench, studying him. "But you're not like that. You just want to destroy yourself."
"Fuck off."
"No. See, you're just afraid that, for the first time in your life, you can't get what you want and it's entirely because of you and yourself and your own choices. But you can never get what you want, and you know it. That's why you're like this. Taht's why you're sleeping with anyone who smiles at you and drinking and dressing up for attention. Because you can never have what you want, so you'll settle for anything that temporarily provides a balm."
"You're wrong," Hisoka snapped. "That presumes I care about things. I don't."
"Ah," said Morena, a smile carving into her face. "But you wish you did. And you wish you didn't. You're a split person. You don't have any idea what it's like to be a person so you gave up. You think you fight, but you only fight because you've given up. And now that Illumi's called your bluff and given up on you, you can't handle it. Want to become like me?"
Hisoka gaped at her. "Shut up, you bitch!"
"He gave up on you."
"Shut up!"
"He doesn't like you. What if he never did? That's what haunts you, isn't it? What if you were wrong? What if Illumi was like me and what if you were always alone? What if all your experiences were lies?"
"They were still experiences I had!" Hisoka glared at her. "They were real!" Illumi was warm under him, he left bruises, he lost control briefly and his face turned and it looked like he was in pain but he wasn't, and Hisoka knew he looked no better and Illumi smiled afterwards. "And that's all I wanted."
"You're trash," said Morena, glaring. "Trash. And you're boring besides. Just hurry it up and kill yourself, why don't you? You'd be doing Illumi a favor, wouldn't you? Or would that break him? Or would he not care? It's the only way to find out, perhaps."
"You're a fucking monster!"
"Illumi doesn't care about you," said Morena, peering closer. "You are worthless, and no amount of experiences will ever be enough to mask that fact. No matter how successful you become, no matter how much money you have, no matter how many people you sleep with. You're still a lost boy whom everyone moves past because a boy shivering on the streets would interrupt their perfect plans."
Fuck you!
She rose. "Bye."
Hisoka watched her go. The world blurred. Huh? He reached up, touching his face. It was wet. Oh.
Look at me, he screamed as a child. People in their fancy overcoats and muffs ignored him, stepping onto a subway. Just look at me! Look at me, somebody look at me! Look atme L ookat me Look at ME LOOK JUST FUCKING LOOK!
So he became a clown, to ensure they would. Even if it was with derision, they acknowledged him. I live, and you can't take that from me.
He thought of Machi, smiling, and running after Feitan. He thought of Killua, and Alluka, that lost child, coming for Illumi. He at least had people reaching for him.
You're wrong, Morena.
Hisoka got to his feet. He looked at his hands. Fuck cost. I have to reach out. I have to try.
You saw me. At the very least, I want you to know that.
Giving up, after all, was not in his nature.
