*HxH Disclaimer*

Author's Notes: I'd like to say, "I can't believe Living Things is ending," but instead, it's, "Finally, it's ending! I'm behind schedule!" xD It'll be a first of completing a series story ever in my story record… which somehow doesn't count, since Living Things will be tailed by a second part. :P Somehow I decided to do plot increments instead of stuffing them all in one series story. It's preference, I guess. ^^;;

Again, I can't thank my most faithful reviewers enough for keeping me going, and excited as well in putting up each and every chapter as I go! You guys are just simply AWESOME. You have no idea. ;) And that's you guys—Bai-Feng (I missed you! :D), a guest reader, Raywolf Shibelt (yay, you're back! ^^), kunoich79, Kiniro-chan, LordOfTheWest, and Paperoo (new reviewer! ^^). I always look forward to reading your reviews. *party hats and cookies*

So here it is… the twelfth chapter. ^^

Living Things
By: DW-chan

Twelve: The Key

Dr. Zan Tournay is dead.

Kurapica was at the meeting which Barrow had Ryger call for the Lazarus Team when he heard of the news. There was little sympathy he could feel for the "executed" scientist, and yet that was what caught his attention the most: Tournay had been executed. He watched the reactions of the faces that surrounded the small conference table: shock, perplexity, even blank stares.

Francis Barrow himself held a drifting look; it seemed that he was not entirely into the meeting. He slumped on his swiveling chair with legs squarely crossed, eyelids rarely fluttering, lips in a hard line. "I can not divulge the nature and reasons of his treachery," Barrow revealed, "but know that he may have done it out of supposed good intentions. Of course, I'm not encouraging anyone to do the same. We've heard Dr. Henaro's conditions years ago. I hope you have not forgotten them…"

"Does that mean that—Dr. Henaro is here…?" one of the scientists, Dr. Skev, attempted to voice out the concerns of fifteen other minds.

Francis was quick. "It was self-inflicted. He may have been given orders to commit honorable suicide. In any case, we now know that Dr. Henaro is alive and well, as he also may have communicated to Dr. Tournay before the incident."

"Shall we call an investigation?"

"No."

"Where is Dr. Tournay's body?"

"Security has taken care of it. I will contact his family soon."

"Very well."

The air was veritably condensed with unease, as if sinister thoughts had occupied the minds of every person in the room. It was true then, Barrow mused, observing the faces before him. No one had expected an execution. Everyone had believed that they were doing well, that everything was going as planned or as ordered, and that Dr. Tournay, least of all, would be the fallible one among them. Now that the peace had been viscously shattered, Barrow knew that the team might be facing doubts within and among themselves.

"Whatever the case is, I'll repeat to you Dr. Henaro's words which he had explicitly reminded the team of time and again: Jeopardize Project Lazarus, and I will execute you." Barrow forced himself from an inevitable tremor. Now that he had revealed to Kurapica what he knew of Project Nexus, he himself had no inkling if he was in the Hunter-Scientist's hitlist. Perhaps, in his quarters, a syringe of deadly toxin was already waiting for him, and he would somehow know that it would be from Dr. Henaro.

Without meaning to, he met Kurapica's eyes. The boy was standing at a corner, arms folded, seemingly calm as a bamboo stalk in summer. After reviewing the information on Nexus, the youth had concisely revealed to him, without further explanation, his next move: to go to Project Nexus. Grim determination had enfolded the youth once more. Barrow could not even guess if the boy felt the same anger he had felt when he first knew of Lazarus's cloning program.

Ianto was with them, a small and reachable distance from Kurapica. He offered to attend the meeting with the rest of the team, since he was, after all, under their close surveillance. Some hours had passed since Sianni had been re-assigned to her capsule, and yet Ianto appeared hale and fine. He reported no pain, no weakness. He gave his answers somehow detachedly, and only showed visible emotion when his son spoke to him. Barrow wondered if Ianto already knew of Kurapica's intentions to fly over continents, into the nest of Project Nexus.

"Dr. Barrow?"

Barrow started, instantaneously dropping the stylus which he had tightly held not a moment ago. The man that called his attention was Dr. Rinder, who was usually unsettled and nervous, but now, he looked just as mislaid and even bereaved as his colleagues. "The Project just lost one of its brilliant minds, Francis…"

"Yes, and there will be no replacing him." Barrow knew he was sincere. He retrieved the stylus that had rolled a few inches from his hand. It felt cold, like a lifeless limb. "I know all of you would understand. I was hoping you would. We had lost a great mind, but whatever Zan had done to deserve execution should no longer be brought up. I'm pleading this, for everyone's sake. We'll get our footing back."

"You will lead Project Lazarus in Zan's stead, then?" came a female voice: Dr. Meeks.

"I'm no leader, Cora. But I will do my best." Barrow only imagined the accusatory air he felt in the room. He brushed the hallucinations aside. The team trusted him, and in no way would they think that he was responsible for Tournay's death. However, he could not shake the thought away that he, after all, was partly responsible, for listening to what Tournay had to say. There had been no stopping Tournay back then.

That was when Barrow felt his insides shudder. He was imagining his own guilt, as he was imagining the many eyes of his colleagues poring into him. Yes, he was simply imagining all that… and then the memory of Zan sinking to the floor flashed into his mind.

He wordlessly stood from his chair and without a second glance to the team, to Kurapica and Ianto, he walked out—fled—from the room.

He went through the hallway, his fingers outstretched, feeling for the walls, as though the mere sensation of their smoothness would lead him to his destination—to a small clearing which intersected a number of passageways which led to other halls and offices. The clearing had a tiny lounge and a fountain, similar to the main lounge, but with less of the luxury.

He found his way to the steel railing which separated the room from a glass window that spanned two floors from ground to ceiling. The sun had properly risen and was comfortably taking its place among the dunes outside. The light washed over him and he closed his eyes for a moment. He buried his face with his hands. It would be so easy to simply quit the Project now. It was easy, and yet it was too late.

"Francis."

The scientist immediately looked up, alerted by the sound of the familiar voice. Without turning to its source, he called, "Dr. Henaro?"

The Hunter-Scientist was a few strides behind him. The whole floor was carpeted, so it cradled the sound of his cane. The man leaned on it quietly, his eyes kind.

"Look at me, Francis."

Barrow slowly turned to face the aged, decrepit man. He felt a surprising sense of tranquility shroud him. If Dr. Henaro came here to execute him as well, then he would be ready to face it. If an inadvertent foible on his part would cost the lives of forty-two clones in any manner, then it would be best if he were taken out of the equation. Perhaps it would be more honorable than falling to his knees and wailing, "I quit, I quit!"

Dr. Henaro's clear green eyes met his. Barrow expected to see his kind face, as that was all the memory he had of the Hunter-Scientist; he did not expect, however, for the older man to reach out and offer him something that was not a toxin syringe.

It was a flash drive.

"You'll be needing this," Henaro proclaimed, the fullness of his voice belying how frail-looking he had become, "especially now that you're the new head of Project Lazarus."

Barrow knew he must have looked like a simpleton to the other man with his mouth agape and an expression fit for a beleaguered child rather than a learned professional.

"Ah, take it, Francis," Henaro urged, as though he were simply offering someone a bit of gum. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

Barrow then took the flash drive; it had a shape like a delicate dragonfly. At last, a semblance of sound arose from his throat. "How—"

Henaro drew closer to him, wobbling on his cane. "There are a lot of things that can be questioned, Francis." He nodded. "This isn't one of them." The man's lips formed a small smile, almost invisible under the skin that drooped down his gaunt face.

"Dr. Henaro—" Barrow began. He was between the phrases How have you been? and Why Zan and not me?

The Hunter-Scientist, however, seemed to brush his attempts of expressing his concerns away. The older man simply, and with steady confidence, placed a hand on Francis Barrow's shoulder. "It's nice seeing you again, Francis."

With a few, feeble pats on Barrow's shoulder, Henaro took his leave. With much effort, he turned around, leaned on his cane, and like an injured crane, patted away.

"I have to say, Francis," Henaro called out soon after, swerving his head a little so that the younger man could hear his words. "Things turned out better than I expected." He resumed his walk. "I'll be leaving in the evening. I suppose I'll be seeing you again, someday."

Henaro had not quite disappeared from the clearing yet when Barrow heard himself say, "Yes, I'll be seeing you again."

Then there was the sunlight and the silence, save for the sound of trickling of water from the fountain which pieced his sanity together, slowly and surely. Pocketing the flash drive, he made his way back to the conference room; he had never felt his heart beat like a wild animal in a cage like that before.

Ianto wanted to tell his son, You'll do no such thing! And yet, what had averted his tenacious son from doing anything his heart was set to do in the past? Kurapica sat across him; they were outside Dr. Barrow's office, as the two men and the youth managed to converge once more after the meeting. Barrow had seemed more collected then.

"They have Pairo. They have Ayessi, Kagin, and Kanima. Father, I need to go to them. They'll need me…"

"To do what?" was all Ianto managed to say. He tried to fix his almond-eyed gaze at his son, which Kurapica met, but the look on his son's face was somehow distant and distracted. There was definite fortitude, however, in Kurapica's bearing.

"I honestly don't know yet, father." Kurapica had his hands clasped in front of him, his elbows over his knees. "But I do know that I have to be with them."

"Son," Ianto was saying, his throat dry, "I know what Pairo and the others mean to you, especially Pairo. But this… Project Nexus… I don't like the sound of it."

"I'll have to go, Father. You'll have to allow me to go."

Five years, was all Ianto could conjure from his own muddled thoughts. Five years without Sianni's and my guidance, and now that I am here, I couldn't even guide you well enough.

Ianto found his grip around Kurapica's clinched hands. It was steady, affectionate; Ianto punctuated every word he said with a slight push on his grip. "As soon as I am able, Kurapica, I will follow you to Project Nexus."

"Father—"

"I know you will release yourself from the Nen chains in due time. But I know that you have once again hurt your mother deeply by letting her know that the Nen sword is still in your heart. No, Kurapica, I will follow you. Allowing me that is the least you can do."

Kurapica seemed slightly taken off guard with Ianto's words, which were grave and firm. Ianto had finally asserted himself to his obstinate son.

Kurapica could only be at the mercy of his father's gentle yet penetrating gaze. He broke his own gaze away, lowering it so that he could only glimpse at the grip Ianto had on his hands.

He finally gave a nod of assent.

"Kurapica," came Ianto's voice again.

The boy looked up once more at his father.

"Be careful, son." Ianto had slowly leaned forward, closing the gap between them so that their foreheads met. Kurapica felt serenity in him which he had not felt in a very long time.

"I will, father."

"Ianto. Kurapica." This time, it was Dr. Barrow's voice. The pair went on their feet, acknowledging the scientist.

"I-I'm sorry to interrupt, but if Kurapica plans to leave the facility some time soon, we would need to take the needed measures."

Ianto looked questioningly at his son, to which Kurapica returned knowingly. "Father," said Kurapica. "We will be re-programming the Lazarus system so that access to the rest of our clanspeople can only be done through Dr. Barrow and me."

Ianto did not pretend he understood. "Technology, huh? Well, is it something like being a key to a door?"

Kurapica smiled at how quickly his father seemed to pick up on everything. "Yes, something like that."

"Well," began Barrow, "I can only hope that Kurapica can translate this for you in a way which will be easier for you to understand, but… Dr. Henaro has already pre-programmed some parts of the system so that they can only respond to Kurapica's and my DNA impression."

"A thumbprint which extracts a tiny blood sample," relayed Kurapica to Ianto.

"Ah…"

"It's not dangerous, father."

"Well, if you say so, Kurapica. I just…"

"What is it, father?"

Ianto looked like he had seen a flight of swans unfold before him. "It's just that I figured out it would mean that you really have no choice but to be here when your mother awakes. I'm glad."

The youth's eyes held amusement. "You're picking up fast, father."

Ianto held his hands up. "Don't make me understand everything too well, Kurapica. I'll hate myself once I start enjoying it."

"And?"

"Now, son, stop it."

"Are you enjoying it?"

"Kurapica, I'm about to send you a thousand miles away into the unknown, and you're asking me if I'm enjoying it?"

"Well?"

Ianto sighed. "Fine. I'll have to like it once you start teaching me about cell phones. You know how your mother hates those things."

"Cell phones will be easy to learn for you, father. Besides, mother isn't awake to know about it!"

Ianto knew well that Kurapica was fondly jesting with him, and he mentioned his mother with clear warmth in his voice, but Ianto feigned dull fascination. "I think your mother and I spoiled you."

Kurapica grinned. Ianto returned it. The man knew that there was something crucial that awakened in his son now that he knew where his dearest childhood friend was. Kurapica had imparted to him how he had perseveringly searched for their Scarlet Eyes for many long months. Not long ago, he barely had a lead to less than five Scarlet Eyes. A this moment, there was a very strong possibility of bringing the clan back together, whole and alive, and with everyone's eyes back in their heads.

What he was seeing in his son was definitely a beacon of hope.

"Go, get the arrangements done, then," said Ianto, taking his son by the shoulders and leading him to where Dr. Barrow was ready to take him.

"Did I ever mention to you how complex the Kurata DNA helix is?" Barrow addressed Kurapica as the young man pulled away the sleeve of his right arm so that his hand was now readily exposed. More than a dozen miniscule blood samples will be extracted from him, as he would be programming his DNA impression through his thumbprint into more than a dozen codes in classified parts of the facility.

"And that a simple transfusion of the correct blood type will still not be enough should I get myself heavily injured?" Kurapica replied, finishing the man's thoughts. Dr. Barrow typed in a code to the tiny steel boxes that housed the "reviving serum." Kurapica thrust in his thumb to a number of them; the boxes immediately locked themselves.

"That's correct."

Kurapica waited for the scientist's admonition, which Barrow offered willingly.

"While you're out there, and from now on, you had better not get yourself critically injured, if injured at all. It won't be easy. I don't know what Nexus has up their renegade sleeves."

"Injury," Kurapica stated, punching in his thumb to a few more boxes, "is an old friend I wish not to see for a long time."

Barrow halted his routine for a moment before addressing the boy again. Kurapica sensed a profound disquiet in the man.

"That better be true," Barrow said quietly, still looking disheveled despite one night of dreamless sleep. "Your father will have my head for sure."

"Not when it would take both our live thumbprints to open up more than half of the facility." The boy smiled cockily.

Dr. Barrow marveled how the boy seemed to change, little by little, ever since he had learned more about Project Nexus. It was like dusting off an old and precious piece of jewelry. There had been something buried in the boy for a long time that only need the right opportunity emerge. It had begun to slowly resurface when he found his way back to Ianto and Sianni.

"Well, if you put it that way…"

"Dr. Barrow," called Kurapica; the youth was no longer smiling, but his eyes were peeled off their coldness and amorphous emotions.

"What is it?"

The youth seemed as though he were taking off a huge weight off himself. "Thank you."

This rather caught the scientist off-guard. He could not conceal his apparent wide-eyed stare at the boy. He had thought he was going to have a long day; the day now seemed longer than it was at first, not with all the surprises this young man dashed at him like pebbles to a lake.

"Well—I'm sure I haven't really deserved that, Kurapica," Barrow admitted, still somehow wide-eyed.

"Things would have gone worse, doctor. And I would have taken your life once, if you remember well."

Barrow could still not find the words to counter the boy's.

"You deserve my thanks," Kurapica punctuated, finally. The boy tried to hide any open emotion from his words. The youth simply nodded in passing, to further punctuate what he had said.

Even as Barrow still felt that he was far from applauding his own self, he reminded himself as well that he should take everything in stride. Appreciation from the Kurata boy, after all, was a rare gift. Kurapica had been all but stingy with kind words until now.

"You're welcome, then," returned the scientist. He typed in the code on a final box, punched his own thumbprint in, with which he literally felt a pinprick of pain lick his skin, before handing it to the youth.

Kurapica took the box. "In two months, then," he told Barrow.

Barrow gave the young man a small smile. He had always been for the welfare of the boy; he was a man of little superstition, but it would take little to convince him now that Kurapica, perhaps, in a past life, may have been his own son. Ah, such foolishness. Project Lazarus had, after all, been nicknamed The Sentiment Experiment.

"The underground shuttle will take you to the city," Barrow reminded the boy. Without further stringent formalities, he raised his bruised-thumb hand.

"Return safely," said Barrow.

Kurapica smiled, taking Barrow's hand with the thumb-bruised hand of his own, giving it a shake.

"When this is over," said the boy, "you can return us home."

Barrow's smile grew a tad wider, and his eyes shone despite the tiredness. "Phase Two will not commence without you, Kurapica. You do know that."

Kurapica drew his hand away. "I know." After some wordless seconds, the youth resumed, "I will do what I can to know everything about Nexus without jeopardizing Lazarus."

"I have faith in that, Kurapica."

They returned to Barrow's office when the re-programming was done, and Ianto was waiting for them. The Kurata man stood up, and with surprising calmness, held Barrow's arm and took the man aside.

"My son shouldn't go alone," said Ianto. It appeared that the man had been doing some further pondering while they were away.

"Ianto, he has to, for now. I don't think we can send anyone else, in fear of endangering Project Lazarus."

Ianto's face was grim. "Kurapica has made his choice, so I will make mine. And if you can, make this choice with us."

Barrow wordlessly clasped the man's arm in reassurance.

"Whether or not I am cleared medically for any signs of cell degeneration in a month, I will follow Kurapica to Project Nexus," relayed Ianto.

Barrow considered Ianto's words carefully. "You're also giving me a month to find a way to sustain the vitals of your body while following your son to Nexus."

"I don't desire to return to the capsule. Not when my son is out there."

"Ianto," Barrow tried his best to muster the steadiest eye contact he could with the Kurata man; he knew a father's will to guard and protect, even if he had not had any children himself. He also knew that it was a raw force within Ianto. "One month. You will have what you need."

They heard Kurapica's voice from within the office, calling his father in for his first lesson on the cell phone.

Ianto acknowledged the scientist's own resolve. "Thank you." Then the Kurata left his side to join Kurapica.

It was only then did Dr. Barrow understood why Dr. Henaro had left Project Lazarus to him, what with two men of a proud race thanking him in one day.

"Zan," Barrow said silently. "Don't haunt Lazarus just yet. I think I got this."

He smiled once more, in spite of himself.

A/N: Well, this was a rather eventful chapter! All babbling and less action. Hehe. That's why I slated the action to go to Part 2. I hope that would work, though!

I'd like to once more thank all my readers who had followed, favorited, and reviewed my story so far, but before all that sap and deep gratitude, I still have to finalize Living Things with an epilogue. That's coming up in a bit! ^^

Also, the thumbprint-blood-extraction idea came from the sci-fi film Gattaca, whereupon the characters have to be identified through consistent DNA testing in all aspects of their lives.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I can't thank you all enough for the reviews and remarks which you've sent, and will be continue. It makes my day when the reviews arrive, and when there are also new reviewers popping up! ^^ I know I can rely on you to continue to follow Kurapica's adventures (sounds cheesy) at the sequel. :D You guys are awesome.

Cheers!

DW-chan :3