A/N: Yay, another early update. Hi guys! It's only been a week but I wanted to test something so I updated a lot earlier for that. Chapter 13 was actually twice as long before, but I'm testing shorter chapters to see if it's easier to read for you. That's why I cut it in half—I somehow figured 7k chapters were less scary than huge 14k chapters lol. The other reason I'm doing that is also to give myself more leeway to write; college is soon starting and I won't have as much time to write, so that gives me more time—it's easier for me to write 7k chapters rather than the usual huge ones. That's the price for regular updates, at least.

Anyway, on the news side, if you ignore the chapters I cut in half, I wrote another chapter (yeah, a monster chapter of 10k words) which is very important to the plot. Counting that new chapter and the ones I cut in halves, that means I have 19 chapters in total.

On the random side, I HAVE A BLASTOISE! Okay, I got it through evolution. There's a Squirtle nest not so far from my building (in the backyard lol) so I'm blessed. (I also found a Snorlax and an Onix and a bunch of Eevees in my backyard…)

Another thing, I found a gorgeous fic last time and I'm sure a lot of you will love it! It's called Among the Water Weeds by OooodlesOfNooodles and it's just amazing. It's about Killua being a father to the cutest little boy ever, and it's got everything to make you aww and smile and laugh and cry and scavenge for your knives as you prepare to throw them at the bad guys. Yeah, I just wanted to put this out there because damn I loved reading it and it deserves a lot of love. So if you need something to read, check it out! (and if you need more fic recs, PM me and I'll give you a list, I've found some gems and I'm more than willing to share them.)

As always, a big thank you to all my readers, all the people who favorite and follow this story, and, especially, my beautiful reviewers. Thank you, forever.

Now on to this chapter! Not to spoil anything, but it's a very calm chapter. And there's no cliffhanger, no nearly-dying Killua and no drunk-to-death Hana and only calm. Hope you'll like it!

Chapter 13: Safe

Tuesday, April 28th

8:48 P.M.

Bloody hands. A rose gold comb. Terrified eyes. A twisted smile.

He stirred in his sleep, inhaling deeply.

Bloody hands. A rose gold comb. Terrified eyes. A twisted smile. A cross-shaped scar.

His eyes snapped open.

A cross-shaped scar.

He stared at the ceiling, his eyes lost in the sun's rays bleeding from the window. His breathing was shallow and his body rusted. When he turned his head, the glass walls of his room blurred, then multiplied, then only came into focus. He tried to move but winced in pain. His joints popped, his muscles seared under his skin, his whole body ached. A headache throbbed in his head when he managed to sit.

"Fuck," he breathed, his chest heaving, his heart heavy in his chest, his heartbeats echoing in his ribcage with a pressing force. The pain was so intense he felt dizzy with it.

What...?

The previous night came back to his mind, weaving through the headache. The argument with Mulgrad. His outburst, when Killua had accused him. His revelations.

His death.

Right.

The oath. The nen oath that had killed Mulgrad. He had said one thing, one name, and then had collapsed.

Erik Faem.

Killua closed his eyes, his headache clawing at his head. He worked on his breathing, tried to take deep breaths, but even that hurt. As though his entire body had been skewered by invisible swords.

Eventually, some time later, the pain diminished. He wasn't sure how much time had passed; it could have been five, ten, fifteen or fifty minutes. But it didn't matter. He could breathe and think at last.

The first thing he thought about was that he needed to know who Erik Faem was. Problem was, he was in no state to run after some guy he had only heard of in articles. If even moving his arm cost him so much energy, there was no way he'd survive a nen curse. Especially not a curse that turned its victim into self-combustible pieces of charcoal.

However, if Faem had placed this curse, or if he had someone in his ranks who had done so, then he would know Mulgrad had died. Needless to say, things could get dangerous for Killua if Faem decided to take action. But Killua wasn't afraid for himself.

He was afraid for all those close to him.

His phone buzzed, as though to prove him right. He swiveled toward the sound on the nightstand. There, he saw the card he had found when he had first woken up, two hours earlier, before giving in to the ache and slipping into a restless sleep.

Charybdis.

The last piece of last night's puzzle. A new puzzle all by itself.

He frowned.

Too many pieces. There were too many pieces to this puzzle, and he didn't know what to start with.

Elias Galivanos is alive, but he needs your help. Find him, and save him.

Right. He had to save that idiot. But as he reached for his phone and his arm quivered with pain, he thought that would have to wait. Actually, everything would have to wait. No revelation was worth dying for, and if he couldn't take his phone without seeing black dots in his sight, then he certainly couldn't deal with crazy Mafia leaders and idiot treasure hunters and dead weapon traffickers and unknown allies with mythological names.

For now, he needed to rest.

He took his phone, and sighed of relief when he lay down and the pain stopped, even for a moment. He saw then that it was a message from Hana.

'Okay I just saw on the news that Mulgrad has been found dead in his office. There was a gas leak and his office caught fire. Are you okay? Please tell me you weren't there. Tell me you're okay.'

'I was there and im not okay,' he found the strength to joke. Though there was no lie in his text; he was in great pain, and it was frankly annoying. Inhaling poisonous smokes and nearly choking to death hadn't been part of his plans. Dying hadn't been part of his plans. Nothing had been part of his plans and he was mad that he would have to wait because some guy thought a poisonous-smokes nen ability was a good idea. How delusional.

'Are you fucking serious,' Hana said. Barely a second later, she sent another message. 'I'm coming over.'

He stared at the phone. And quietly laughed.

He could use a breath of fresh air, after all.

Hana was there fifteen minutes later, with her gigantic purse, her laptop, enough work to busy herself with, and… stuff. Lots, lots of stuff.

"Okay, what happened?" she said as she came in and closed the door. "What the fuck did you do Killua?"

"Not now," he breathed. "I'm gonna collapse."

She let go of her bags and supported him, placing his arm around her shoulders. "Why did you open the door when you knew you couldn't walk?" she scolded as she helped him walk toward the couch, her arm firmly wrapped around his waist. "You could have told me to pick the lock."

"Wow, my friend is picking my lock. Totally not suspicious."

"You forget I'm a professional."

"… I wanted to test my walking," he admitted.

"Whatever." She gently made him sit, then bent forward to meet his eyes. "You look horrible."

"Thanks," he said. "Nice to hear after coming back from the dead."

Her worried eyes coursed all him—only then did he notice his shirt was still bloody. Whoever had washed his face—Charybdis—hadn't changed his clothes, which reassured him a great deal. Being at the mercy of someone he didn't know and who knew where he lived was creepy enough without being naked in front of that someone. The thought alone made him shudder.

"What happened?" she asked again but didn't give him time to answer. She was too busy putting her hand on his forehead, then doing the same with her cheek—or dear God the proximity… he didn't need another reason to faint— then looking in his eyes, then forcing him to open his mouth before he sighed with frustration.

"Stop this," he hissed. "I'm not sick."

"You look like a stranded corpse in the middle of a snowstorm."

"… Thanks."

"Will you tell me what happened now?"

"If you'd just listen to me."

She sat next to him, scooting close so that he didn't need to turn his head. "I'm listening."

He told her everything then—carefully omitting to mention Erik Faem's name; he didn't want to endanger her with this knowledge. How he broke into Mulgrad's mansion, knocked out all the personnel and forced Mulgrad to talk. How Mulgrad was under a nen oath without being aware of it. How he broke the oath and died then, the same way a spy had died before. He didn't tell her about his doubts either—how had Mulgrad managed to sell the information about his client without dying then? "He just started burning on the spot, but there was no fire. The smokes were toxic. I inhaled some and immediately left before it could kill me." He gave a humorless smile. "This is what I got for staying barely a few seconds within the corpse's presence."

"How did you get home?"

His eyes grew dark. "I don't know. Someone found me. I just remember seeing something teal-colored… and then I was waking up in my bed, with a clean face and a message on my nightstand."

"Holy fuck. That sounds like straight out of a thriller or a horror movie."

"Yeah, that definitely wasn't a romcom night." He closed his eyes as she adjusted him on the couch. "What is officially said about his death?"

"That there was a gas leak and that his office caught fire. There was evidence of a leak, though, so I do believe someone put a fire to that office."

"To erase the corpse," he thought aloud. He wondered if Faem could have done it, or if it was Charybdis, the unknown 'friend' who had saved him. The arson burnt the evidence of the oath, but it also burnt evidence of Killua's presence there. "Any other casualty?"

"No. The fire was stopped before it spread elsewhere. The personnel are being taken care of."

He frowned. But before he could start pondering those discoveries, she nudged him.

"Don't work today. You're gonna sleep. I'll take care of everything, okay?" she said.

"Are you for real," he said. "Why did you even come? You're really gonna waste a day watching me sleep?"

"Of course. Unless you want me to go," she pretended to sulk.

He did his best to pat her arm. "No. Stay."

She squeezed his shoulder. "I'll take care of you."

"Thanks. Fifty more hot points for you."

"At this rate, I'll quickly break hotness records," she joked. She got up. She disappeared into his room and came back with a clean tee-shirt, drawstring flannel pants, and a wet towel. "Change into that," she said.

"Make me," he teased through his hazy thoughts, but she only rolled her eyes and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Okay, what about my jeans?"

She removed his shirt. "I'll choke you with them." She wiped the dry blood away from his chest, and he shivered because of the coldness of the towel. She took the clean shirt and handed it to him since he insisted on wearing it himself—no matter how costing that was. She had her share of laughs when he got stuck with both arms up, unable to move because of the dizzying pain; he practically had to beg her to pull his shirt down.

Then, she did the same for the pants. She supported him while he let his jeans slip down. That was the most embarrassing moment in his life. More embarrassing than watching Aunt Mito hang his underwear on the clothesline whenever he visited and she insisted on doing the laundry herself. It wasn't so much about her seeing him in his boxers—he wouldn't mind getting naked in front of her in another context. But there was nothing seductive or sexy about helping a sick guy wear his pajamas.

"I feel like a fucking patient," he mumbled as he drew his flannel pants up, all the while supported by her.

"If all patients look like you then please sign me up to the closest hospital."

"Thanks. That makes me feel better about needing assistance to get dressed."

"Well, tell yourself that seeing an ass as callipygian as yours is worth all the trouble."

He managed a smile.

"You should sleep," she said. "I'll wake you up to eat." She walked him to his room, lay him on his bed—and he even got a tiny kiss on his forehead, as if he needed more proof that he was being babysat.

(Not that he was complaining.)

He fell asleep shortly after that, the noise of her activity in the living room lulling him to sleep.

A rose gold comb.

A cross-shaped scar.

He stirred in his sleep, chasing after the pictures of bloody jewelry. He distinguished the twist of a smile, a record of insanity displayed on a blemished face.

Through the teeth of the comb, a man lay, with blood staining his hair. His wide eyes stared at nothing, reflecting nothing but the cold embrace of death. He wasn't sure what color the eyes were; actually, he wasn't sure about anything related to the dead figure on the floor, the victim whose empty gaze had appeared in previous dreams, though still alive with fear. The only certain attribute was that cross-shaped scar, on his cheek or his forehead or somewhere on his face.

But the dream melted away, replaced by the Mulgrad's last moments, by his obscene fury.

The bottle of alcohol thrown to the wall, the whiskey seeping through the carpet. The beast-like growl in Mulgrad's throat as he said his last words.

"He's just a bastard born from a peasant and a whore, and that's all he will ever be, all Erik Faem will ever b—"

Then, his death. The suffocation stealing Mulgrad's next words. The gasps as he choked to death. The emaciated flesh shrinking to a dry mass of coal, cracking and peeling on his body.

And the pain.

Killua's room appeared then, replacing the somber manor with dim sunlight.

His shallow breathing echoed in his head, as though he was hearing it from inside his body. His sight was blurry, his thoughts hazy, his reality foggy. He was faintly aware of the heat all around him, the burning wave pulsing along his heartbeats, throbbing in his head and his wrist and his neck.

A cold towel broke through the heat, a much needed and much welcome relief. "I've got you," Hana said, then. Sweet, caring, precious Hana. With her deep, silvery voice. With the warmth in her green eyes chasing the darkness away. "Open your mouth."

He didn't know if this was real, but he complied, abandoning himself to her. He felt the steam of warm food on his lips then, and swallowed the spoonful of soup. She repeated the procedure for an undetermined time—or perhaps he was just too feverish to count.

"Close your eyes," she said once he was done.

He closed his eyes.

The busy haze in his mind stilled then, soothed by her calming presence. His breathing slowed, and he felt pulled by sleep once again, lulled by the soft pressure of her fingers in his hair, the softness of her aura.

In that short moment of semi-consciousness, he wasn't sure of anything. He didn't even know if she was still with him, but the calm in himself was a solid proof that she was. He always felt quieter when she was around, as though her presence shooed the doubts away and stilled the hectic speculations that always buzzed in his mind. She was the interlude to all his worries.

Nevertheless, he said the only thing he could think of, the only coherent thought he had managed to form as her green eyes filled his thoughts: "Stay with me." It came out as more of a plead and less of a request, but he was too tired to care.

"I'm right here," she murmured.

He sighed of relief then.

A few minutes later, he was sleeping again.

10:10 P.M.

Killua woke up to the smell of pumpkin soup and hot chocolate. Needless to say, that changed a lot from the dry blood and the grassy mud in the park he had collapsed in before Charybdis found him.

"I'm right here."

He managed to sit up, grimacing through the pain. He faintly remembered an exchange he had had with Hana, but he didn't know if he had hallucinated it or if it had really happened. Nothing was really sure, though; fevers had this way to distort reality that pissed him off beyond relief. The last thing he needed was more concerns over what his deluded, feverish self could have said to her when he wasn't paying attention.

"You're awake?"

He swiveled to meet her gaze. She was standing in the doorframe, hands on her hips. "What time is it?"

"Past 10 P.M."

"I slept the whole day?"

She leaned against the closet. "You didn't. I woke you up twice to eat. Don't you remember?"

"… No. I don't remember waking up."

"Well. You were completely out of it."

He hesitated, awkwardly trudging around the words. "Did I… say anything strange?"

She leveled his gaze. With what Killua could describe as amusement in her eyes. With, surely, a little bit of mischief. "You didn't confess to me, if that's what you mean. It would be quite an awkward way to confess, right?"

He held back a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure why. "That wouldn't be very glamorous, now." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I tend to say deluded things when I'm sick."

"You did talk about catching Zapdos at some point, and you requested a lawyer once or twice to sue the Chorobots company for not ever giving you a golden Chocorobot." She tapped her chin. "Whatever you were seeing, I'd be curious to see it too."

And the sigh he had held struck back. "That's what I was talking about." He stared at her then. "Are you going home?"

"Not if you want me to stay."

A flicker of hope finished to wake him up. "For real? You'd stay the night?"

She gave a warm smile. "Yes. I'm too worried to leave you alone anyway. You really look terrible."

"That's the third time you tell me I look like a dry sock out of the freezer, I get it now."

"Close enough." He glared at her, to which she just grinned. "I just need to go to my apartment, shower and take some stuff. Will you survive in the meantime?"

"I'll try. But come back quick."

"I will."

10:41 P.M.

When she came back, Killua wasn't in his bed.

It barely took two minutes to find out where he had been: the bathroom. Ten dreadful minutes passed then, during which her brain rewound countless scenarios of Killua slipping in the shower and crashing his skull on the tiles, or Killua collapsing against the mirror and taking a shard in his brain, or, hell, Killua drowning in the toilets or swallowing toothpaste and dying and—wait, toothpaste didn't kill, did it?

That was why, she was ready to kill him when he came out of the bathroom, showered and clean, but definitely exhausted. She knew he had surely done that to spare both of them the embarrassment—she had always asked herself how people showered and used the restroom in movies when one of them was nursing the other—but she was still worried. His reckless shower—two words she had never thought she could use in the same sentence—was an unnecessary strain. He was in pain, but apparently, that didn't stop him.

Then again, that was Killua, and Killua defied logic. The fact that he was even standing after what had happened was beyond her understanding.

"You," she said and pointed him with her finger, "are an idiot."

"Thanks."

She made him lie down on the bed and sat on the other side. "You could have died."

"If I can survive toxic smokes, I think I can survive a shower, Hana."

"What if you had drowned?"

"Then the world would have cried one of its most beautiful creations."

"…"

She gave him a glass of water, then fetched a bowl of soup from the kitchen and slowly fed it to him. He was starting to regain some strength, but he was still weak and needed to rest. And as long as she was with him, she refused to let him tire himself.

When he was done, she switched off the lights, took her laptop and sat against a big pillow. She had work to do while he slept.

But he didn't fall asleep, this time. Instead, he watched her as she planned her week, sent some e-mails, typed her reports. When she glanced at him, she saw he was focused.

"Is it interesting?" she finally said, her lips quirking in a fond smile.

"Hmm. You're so organized."

"I need to be, or else I stress too much."

"You already stress a lot."

"A proud heritage from my father," she mused.

He didn't say anything until she finished typing her last report, a quick last-minute report on Aleon's case. When she had wrapped it up and sent it to Allan—who was more than glad to be in contact with her again—she closed her laptop and put it in her bag.

He looked at her then. "You're done?"

"For now, yeah. I'm taking a pause."

"So we can chat?" he asked.

She blinked. "You waited all this time for me to finish working?"

"Yeah? You were busy. I didn't want to bother you."

She pinched his cheek. "You're so cute. I'd have jumped on you just so you give me attention."

"That's because you're an ass," he said.

She and lay down on her side, leaning on her elbow. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Tell me about your Hunter exam."

"All of it? Or just the official exam?"

"All of it."

She tried to gather the memories.

She told him about the treasure hunt with Feri, the rollercoaster-train that rendered most examinees unable to take the exam, the chess game with the Navigators—who were cheating. She loved watching the small twitch of the corner of his lips when she said something funny, or his attentive expression when she talked about suspenseful things. "The process of getting to the exam was hard enough, but the exam was worse."

"Damn. I wish I had ridden that rollercoaster-train. It sounds rad."

"It was pretty fun." She gave a cheeky expression. "There were two grown men aboard who made fun of Feri and me because we were both scrawny at the time—and I was a girl. Within five minutes they were down and they had thrown up their lunch."

"Good. Treats them right."

"Then we got to the exam. I remember I was the number 211, and Feri 212. As soon as we arrived, there was this guy who started talking to us, offering drinks and information about the other contestants. A real leech."

His eyes took a laughing glint. "Dammit, you met Tonpa?" he laughed.

"Yes! Right, you took the exam two years before me. That guy was so annoying. A real glue-pot. He followed us during the whole exam because we were rookies, but he failed the third exam."

"He was already an annoying glue-pot two years earlier; I suppose he got worse with age."

"Well, it was even worse that he actively tried to make us fail," she hissed. "For the first phase, we had a test of stamina. We had to climb a mountain for hours. My arms hurt for days after that, and I swear that's probably around the time I got all my muscles. And twice during the exam, Tonpa, who was obviously right above us, would let go and fall directly on us.

"The first time, we caught him, and nearly fell because of that. The second time, I pushed Feri so Tonpa would fall on someone else. But guess what? That fucker was actually hooked on the mountain! He wasn't falling, he was just pretending to fall, but he was gliding down to knock us out!"

"That is so Tonpa. Please tell me he got impaled on a peak."

"I wish, but no, he kept clinging to us until he failed!"

"… Woah. And what did you have to do for the other phases?" he asked.

She puckered her lips. "Second phase was creepy as fuck. We had to weave through a nest of giant Spider Clowns, find a map, and decrypt it to find our way through an immense forest. I can assure you that at the end of the second phase, there weren't a lot of us left."

"Spider Clowns," he repeated. "That's the most disturbing thing I've ever heard."

She made a non-committal noise. "You should have seen the one I came face to face with. It had wings."

He grimaced. "Giant Winged Spider Clowns. What kind of exam did you have? Ours was so boring."

"I think they were testing our survival skills," she mused. "They did have us tend to Orefox wounds for the third phase. We had to take care of wounded animals in a forest, using only the herbs in the forest—they wanted to test our medicinal knowledge and make sure we didn't use a poisonous plant rather a medicinal one. Feri was bitten by an Orefox and we barely made it to the fourth phase before a doctor could see to his wounds."

"Wild. What about the fourth phase?" he urged her to continue.

She fought a smile at the memory. "We had to team up to find our way in a labyrinth. They had unleashed wild animals in the labyrinth and we had to stay in groups of four. We couldn't leave anyone behind because some doors could only be opened by having three different tiles pressed down at the same time, and one person holding the door. We stayed three days in the labyrinth—there were resources dropped at certain places, with extra food rewards when we completed riddles.

"It was hell, though. We didn't get along until the last day. Feri and I had paired up with one guy who became our self-proclaimed leader and couldn't make two steps without triggering a trap, and a girl who clearly wished she could be by herself—and constantly reminded us of that. I really thought we would die countless of times." She showed him the inside of her arm. "A Fox-Bear scratched me at some point. She thought I wanted to hurt her cub. If Feri hadn't managed to calm her down, she would have ripped my arm off."

He brushed the faint scar on her arm, a mere discoloration being its only remains. Her skin prickled where he had touched her. "You went through a wild exam. I hope your fifth phase was a written test or something like that."

She grinned.

"No," he started, his voice full of disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Yes. After making us pull those Lara Croft stuns, they had us take a written exam. They had awarded us points in each phase and the written exam's grade was 75% of our final grade. We were only ten at the end of the fourth phase, but only five of us passed."

He burst out laughing then—as loud as his lack of energy allowed. "That's the worst fucking thing ever. I can't believe it. Imagine you just arrive there after surviving this hell, and they tell you your title of hunter is determined by a written exam."

She looked at him, a bit dreamily perhaps. "I'm pretty sure most applicants were more terrified by the written test than the Spider Clowns." She shifted her position, to be more comfortable—and closer to him. "What about you? Your exam, I mean."

"Me? Well, I got early to the exam. Number 99, coolest number. I had left Padokia in a blimp that 'accidentally' crashed in the middle of nowhere. I had to find my way through an undocumented place and somehow stumbled upon an underground train. The train took us to Bonizaville, one of the cities with Navigators for the applicants—I think Gon told me he went to Zaban City.

"My Navigator was an old woman—a crime hunter, actually. She had set up an investigation in her mansion, and I had to compete with four other examinees to find the solution. Only one of us could go with her. We had two days to finish." He smirked a little. "I was done in four hours."

"You're so good, it's annoying," she sneered.

"Yeah, I know. The Navigator told me the same when I got too cocky—believe it or not, I used to be even cockier than I am now."

"Ah, you had your twelve-year-old phase too."

"Shut up."

"What happened then?" she requested.

"Hm. Stamina exam first. We ran for hours. It was boring. I met Gon there, though. And Kurapika and Leorio." He told her about all the different phases of his exam, even if he was tiring. She listened, spellbound, imagining a tiny version of himself cooking sushi—how come they didn't know what sushi was?!— or snatching Spider-Eagle eggs, descending the Trick Tower, escaping a great storm with the other applicants, surviving a week of manhunt on the Zebile island… She loved knowing how he had become a hunter, the people he had met and the tests he had completed.

"I still can't believe you didn't know what sushi was; what kind of peasants were you?"

"You slow down there, city girl," he fought. "I was eleven, okay? I fed on candies, not on fish."

"Peasant," she repeated.

"Whatever, brat."

"Peasant."

"…"

"What about the last phase?" she changed the topic. "Tell me you got a written exam. I'd be curious to see how you passed that."

He stayed silent. His smile faded away. "I didn't pass the first time," he confessed, his voice so light and almost solemn.

She flinched, regretting her words. She had always assumed he had passed on the first try… How much of an idiot could she be? "You had to retake the exam?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her bewilderment. How could someone like him fail?

"Yeah."

She stared at him, trying to read those intriguing blue eyes of his. Was he nostalgic? Sad? Remorseful? For some reason, none of these fit. "Why did you fail?" she risked.

"During our last phase, we had to fight each another. There was one rule: we couldn't kill our opponent—that automatically disqualified us." He paused, and she knew where he was going. "I got cocky when my opponent showed up. I chose to fight another applicant to have more fun. Turned out that other applicant was my older brother in disguise." He gave a wry smile. "Mad luck, right?"

"Your brother," she repeated. "The asshole with the needles?"

"The one and only."

"But what did he do to you?"

"I don't know. I had the needle in my head and couldn't bring myself to face him. He was using nen and the aura was terrifying me. I didn't know what it was at the time. I chickened and killed Leorio's opponent to disqualify myself. And I went back home."

His words were heavy. She couldn't even imagine the turmoil he had been through. "And then?"

"Gon, Leorio, and Kurapika came for me. They refused to leave me with my family. I retook the exam the following year—just a year before you—and passed." His eyes were unfocused, his eyelids dropping ever so slightly with exhaustion. There was something he wasn't saying, the memory of a burden hovering over his lips. "For a long time, I wondered if I was really made to be a hunter. My brother's voice was always there somewhere in the back of my head, telling me that I was made to be an assassin, that I couldn't have friends, that I belonged with my family. It was so fucking irritating. Even after I retook the exam, I still had lingering doubts."

"But you managed to get rid of it. You're a hunter now. And you do have friends. So many friends who care about you —including me"

He smiled a tired but beautiful smile. "Yeah." He held his mouth open, but no sound would come out. "I've never told anyone about this."

Her breath caught. "Really? Why?"

"It made me feel vulnerable."

She stared at him, her face darkening. "I understand. I know what it's like to fail. The doubt that clouds your judgment afterward."

"Not just that. Talking about my feelings used to feel like ripping a part of me and baring myself. It made me feel freaking naked. I grew up keeping to myself —even Alluka didn't know how I felt, because she had enough problems and I didn't want to let her see her big brother wasn't invincible."

Her eyes twitched at the mention of his sister. She was tempted to ask about her, but she didn't want to interrupt him or make him remember any sad memory. "You didn't grow up in an adequate environment for that. You were taught to suppress your emotions —but you're a deeply emotional person, you can't do that. So I'm proud of you for going this far. And thankful that you opened up to me about this issue."

He glanced at her. Gratitude filled his eyes. "It doesn't feel so bad to be naked with you."

"You can be. You can tell me anything. I'll never judge you. Unless you tell me you kicked a puppy —then I'll judge you hard."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't kick you."

"I'm not a puppy. I'm a dinosaur."

"Dinopuppy." He painfully shifted on the bed. "Come closer," he breathed.

"That's the kind of things evil witches say in fairy tales to trap children."

"Yes, absolutely. I plan on draining the life out of you. I need you close for that."

She scooted closer, supporting herself with her forearm. She was so close her body brushed his. "Now what?"

He didn't reply, and she wondered if he had fallen asleep. "Wait. Let me remember my curse. Soon your voice will be mine."

"You're mixing all the fairy tales, Killua. It's either the Little Red Riding Hood or the Little Mermaid, not both."

"Hmm." He opened his eyes. "Probably not the Little Mermaid then. You'd make a lousy mermaid. Your singing could wake the dead."

She poked his cheek. "You're completely defenseless, wounded, unable to move, at my mercy, and you have the gall to make fun of me?"

He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, the gesture seemingly costing to him, before he let his hand drop. She stared in his eyes, wondered if he was really conscious of everything around him. "You love me too much to hurt me."

"How smug. Who said that?" she fought, though a part of her nudged her that he was right.

"Doesn't need to be said. I feel it."

"How?"

"You came for me."

"That sounds sexual."

"Are you always horny, Hana?"

"Shut up," she said, fingertips grazing his cheek. She felt him relax under her touch and moved closer to him. "You look terrible," she said as she gazed at his pale face, his dark circles, his glassy eyes. It felt painful to see him so hurt.

"Fourth time."

"For real, this time."

"I feel peachy, though," he coughed out. He caught his breath, hovering between sleep and consciousness. She gently patted his chest, rubbing warmth on it like her mother did when she was a child. Her hand lingered. "I could run miles. Grow wings and then fly miles too. And fins and swim miles."

"Sure." She smiled. "You sound drunk, Killua."

"I'm not."

"Do you even get drunk?"

"Only when I want to be."

"I wonder what kind of drunk you are. Funny or emo or disaster? You're always so in control of yourself, of everything around you, it's hard to imagine you drunk."

"I'm not always in control of myself, you know."

"When are you not?"

He put his hand on hers, and she swallowed hard. "I can't control the things you make me feel."

(Oh, the sweet furnace in her chest.)

"Things like what?" she inquired.

"Wild and sappy and fast things. A bit like being drunk in a very colorful world."

"I make you feel sappy?"

"Too much. It's unsettling. You should stop."

"Never."

He rubbed her hand with his thumb, a tender, soothing gesture. A moment passed, a small interlude embracing them in a warm cocoon, during which none of them said anything. She felt his heart beat in sync with her pulse under her hand, guessed the outline of his chest under the fabric of his shirt. And she was so peaceful. Being this close to him, listening to his whispered confessions, stroking his hair as his eyelids dropped… That was the kind of intimacy she craved, the calm evenings threaded in her life like pastel stitches in uncertain black clothes. A little patch of safety in her blurry, shivering life.

"I hope I'll remember this when I feel better," he broke the silence.

Her fingers played with feather-soft strands of his hair. "Remember what?"

"You."

Her heart lurched; her hand stopped caressing his hair for a second before she resumed. She was dying to kiss that smile on his face. "Even if you don't, I'll make you remember."

"Thanks. I'm counting on you." He fell silent then, his breathing slow and even. He had dozed off.

She let go of his hand, and brushed his hair one last time, her chest filled with emotion. She was aware he was only saying this much because he was out of it, feverish and tired. Exhaustion was sometimes a skilled thief of secrets.

Even so, the sweet confessions were a balm on her heart, everything she needed. He too felt this new pull between them. And he trusted her enough to open up to her.

She took the blanket at her feet and covered him. Then, she sat up, ready to keep working until late, since she knew sleep wouldn't come anytime soon. Not while her mind was whirling with everything he had said.

But then, just when she was sure he was asleep, he said one last thing, one thing that set her whole body on fire.

"I feel so good with you, Hana."

She stared at him, wide-eyed, still processing what he was saying. "Why?"

He didn't reply.

She turned back to her laptop, moved, but terribly confused, glancing at his sleeping form as though it would give away the answer to her questions.

Eventually, she gave up on checking if he was awake. His breathing was regular, his features smooth and light. He had left consciousness since long.

And yet, it was only long after that moment that she found what to reply to him.

"And I feel so safe with you, Killua."

A/N: Hehe. So, yes. I meant what I said; it's all fluffy.

What did you think about the chapter? What was your favorite moment? I'd love to hear your thoughts! Every review counts, even if it's just a few words or a guest review. Reviews are an author's fuel. And I'm not only talking about my own story; every author needs feedback.

Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter—it was months ago but I still remember. I hope you liked the little insight I gave on Hana's exam, and on Killua's pre-exam phase. (I wonder if Tonpa will ever get his license…)

Okay, I'm gonna stop here. Next chapter is called Rebel and that's the chapter where I wrote my personal favorite dialogue so far. Or well, my second favorite dialogue. Because my favorite dialogue is the pre-kiss dialogue. But I should stop talking.

Bye and see you soon!