Guys, I don't know about you, but I'm getting excited for this next (and last) arc. It's heading in Yorknew direction, but I'll be veering it far off course from the canon events sometime pretty soon.
And yes, there's the bad news: this story won't be lasting much longer ಥ_ಥ
And by that, I mean in the next like… idk, 10 chapters? Knowing me, that'll probably double to 20 XP. So count on the story being somewhere between 1/2 or 2/3 of the way done. We'll just see where my short-circuiting brain takes us!
In the meantime, flip tables with me (ﾉꐦ ⊙曲ఠ)ﾉ彡┻━┻
If you aren't sure why I did that, you clearly did not hear about the HIATUS ANNOUCEMENT.
*Sigh* It's really hard to hate on Togashi though. I mean, he was (and maybe still kind of is) suffering from terrible back pain, and lemme tell ya, back pain. Is. Inhibiting. And I know he's supposedly getting better, so maybe pain isn't the problem right now. I think it's just overwork. I mean, I draw. I can't even imagine how stressful that would be to have to draw for Shonen Jump. And Togashi wasn't cutting corners this time. His art was mostly on point for Hunter x Hunter standards, and I'm pretty sure he's still doing it all on his own.
Hopefully this is just a short hiatus so he can do some editing/redrawing and make the cover art for the tankōbon. Also, I think he's running a marathon soon?
I know I'm just ranting here and this probably isn't the best place to do it, but I wish people would stop being so bitter and mean to Togashi. Let the man live his life the way he wants. Just be glad he's still writing new chapters. Just be glad that he's still alive.
Besides, hiatuses are the perfect time for fanfiction.
Now let me flip a couple more tables for good measure.
(ﾉꐦ ๑´Д`๑)ﾉ彡┻━┻ … (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻ … (ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻
Disclaimer: God bless you, Togashi-sensei. Do your business, and I won't judge.
I'll just sob
Chapter 21: Trip X Down X Memory Lane
十四
The way home was a long one.
Instead of taking the private airship home after the job, Killua had to find his own way back. Illumi left him with no money, no directions, and no good-bye.
Killua knew this was just part of his training. An assassin should always have a means of escape and a place to run to. And in the end, it only took the three-year-old a week to get home. He knew this was training, yet… it had hurt so bad.
One moment, his older brother was beside him in the chaotic airport. It was Killua's first time in such a crowded place, and he was in awe. There were so many people, so many sounds, so many smells. The lights were almost blinding, brighter than the sun shining high outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. But when he turned back around, Illumi was gone.
And for a three-year-old… it's traumatizing.
Killua hadn't cried in a year. Crying was emotion; emotion was bad. But being three feet smaller than the surrounding swarming crowds of strangers in a vast, unfamiliar place, alone… he cried. And no one was there to wipe his tears.
He learned after returning home that Illumi was tailing him the entire time, to make sure he really was safe. It was supposed to be a comforting thought, to know his big brother hadn't actually abandoned him.
Of all the torture training Killua received throughout his fourteen years of being an assassin, that week was the one he'd never let go of. It was the first time he had ever felt completely and utterly alone.
And that is the worst torture anyone can receive.
十四
Speckles of sunlight painted Killua. It played with his hair, giving it varying streaks of gray, white, and silver. It danced along the threads and fibers of his clothing, giving it a washed-out appearance. He stood in the same spot he'd been standing since Gon decided to explore the house, half an hour before.
There were decomposing leaves strewn in patterns on the ground in front of his feet. There was fresh soil below that. And below that was the blood of Gon's aunt, spilled eleven years in the past by his broth -
... By Illumi.
Killua was there. In fact, he had been the one to end the mother's life, back in the house. Now that he knew nen, he realized that Gon's mother must have been a powerful nen user, maybe even a master. Illumi had incapacitated her with his needles, and Killua himself had dealt the final blow.
Maybe if Gon and her aunt hadn't been there, the outcome would've been different. But Gon's mother, who had tried to protect the two, did it at the expense of her life.
Killua bit his lip in a futile effort to keep it from wobbling. How could he have forgotten? Even after everything Gon had said and all the uneasiness he'd felt about the situation, he hadn't put the pieces together. Not even as they walked through this forest, not even as they walked right past the place of the murder.
His fingers pulled at his hair, knotting and tangling in his locks. He didn't register the pain because physical pain was nothing. He'd gladly take a beating every day for the rest of his life in place of the bottomless pain in his chest right now.
He knew why he forgot and why he never completely made the connection. It wasn't because he was only three and only had fuzzy memories of those days; that couldn't be the case, because he could see the situation now as clear as day. It ashamed him to admit this, but the reason he forgot he murdered Gon's family was because of what had happened right after that.
Illumi had left him, and that scarred Killua like nothing else had up until this point in his wretched existence. What he remembered of that day wasn't the evil he had committed, but the fear and loneliness he had felt when he was completely alone for the first time in his life.
He clutched at his hair harder, taut strands threatening to snap out of his scalp. How dare he? How could he have dwelt on his own mundane feelings of loss when he had just left an innocent child without a family? And how many times had he done that since? How many scared, helpless children had he left orphans, alone to die in the streets?
His knees hit the dirt, forehead falling to burrow into the black soil. He was dirt. No, even this dirt was better than him. The dirt gave life; Killua took them.
If he stayed where he was long enough, would the earth consume him, to join the victims of his fourteen years of sin? He willed the now muddy soil beneath his body to sink him, to pull him down, down...
"Young man, what are you doing?"
Killua slowly lifted his head to see an old lady carrying groceries.
She stared back at him. "You're getting all dirty. That's no way to play in these woods."
He stood, wiping his dirt-caked arm across his eyes. The dirt turned to mud. "I wasn't playing." He mumbled.
"Then what were you doing?" If her arms weren't full, she probably would've put her hands on her hips, maybe even tapped her foot, expectant for an answer.
Killua didn't trust old ladies. He'd never had the best experiences with them. "None of your business." He muttered, hands going straight for his pockets. The teen started to walk away.
"Hold it right there, young man."
Killua didn't know why he listened.
She started to continue on her walk through the woods. "You're coming with me." She said. "I'll get you cleaned up."
"What?" Yet he followed. What was it with old ladies? They creeped him out, but he always, always listened to them. He blamed his evil grandma butler, Tsubone.
"I just live right past these trees, by the bluff."
That sounded an awful lot like...
"Ah!" He stopped, jabbing a finger in her direction. "You're the old grandma they told us about!"
She stopped, turned. "Excuse me?"
The teen nervously drew his finger back. "Ah - uh..." He'd have to explain that he and Gon were in her house, and why they were in her house, and that Gon was currently in her house -
"Are you coming?"
She was already a couple yards ahead.
Killua let out a sigh. He supposed he was.
十四
The rest of the cliffside home was tidy and free of dust.
Gon had decided there was more to explore in her former home than just the abandoned front room. Killua opted out of exploring, and to be honest, Gon didn't mind. The house, or rather, the aura in the house was too much for him. She understood; residual nen wasn't a pleasant experience.
Gingerly, she stepped down the hall towards where she remembered the kitchen was. The kitchen brought memories of the smell of fresh baked bread and gooey, melt-in-your-mouth cookies. She sniffed in now; it was almost as if the scent was still there.
In fact…
She made her way towards the counter where a loaf of bread was rising. It looked so perfect and puffy. She had to restrain herself from punching it down. The thought made her smile a bit; hadn't she always been the one to do that?
A grin erupted on her face as she turned towards the nearby staircase. Its wooden steps creaked with every step she took, but it was steady. She climbed the stairs with ease, unlike how she had as a toddler. Each step on this near-vertical expedition had been an onerous task back then.
Her subconscious mind led her to her old room. It seemed it hadn't changed in eleven years. There were still toys on the floor, and the bed was unmade. Gon looked inside the closet, unsurprised to find that the majority of her clothes were shades of green, blue, and brown. She picked a shirt at random. It was so small in her hands now.
Life would've been so different growing up in a normal house like this. After living in Meteor City for most of her life, a simple home in the country was a nonsensical dream. It almost seemed as if all the memories that were streaming back to her now were just a phantasm she conjured. And after living in Meteor City for so long, she didn't think she could go back to a life like this.
But what was she thinking? She shook her head a little. Of course she couldn't live like this; she was going to spend the rest of her life with her family. She was going to live in Meteor City. She was going to stay in the Phantom Troupe…
It took a moment for her to realize she was staring blankly at the wall. Enough of that, she chided to herself. She quickly left the room, turning the corner to find herself in her aunt's room.
There was nothing spectacular about the adjacent bedroom. There was a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand. The things in the closet were negligible; the covers on the bed were neatly made. The only thing in the room that caught Gon's attention was a picture frame on the bedside table. She took a look at it.
There were four adults in the picture. A graying old woman. An orange haired teen. That was her grandmother and Aunt Mito. Gon smiled down at them.
Her eyes shifted to the right where the two others stood, a man and a woman. The man had black hair like hers; he scowled, trying to avoid meeting the camera's gaze. Gon giggled a little. She focused her sight on the last person, a beautiful woman, clinging to the man's arm. A beautiful, very pregnant woman.
The Spider was at a loss. These two… they must be my parents. She could see it now. She had her mother's bright smile and petite frame, her father's honey irises and strong stance. She wished she knew their names. She wished she could remember them more.
That bothered her. Upon seeing her grandma and aunt, she felt a flood of emotions, memories that were hidden in the back of her mind for so long now rushing to the foreground. But when she looked at her parents… all she saw was a man and a woman.
Why was that? Why were there no memories?
A creak sounded at the top of the staircase.
It must be Killua.
She called out to him. "You should come see this pic – "
She gasped, because who she saw wasn't Killua at all.
十四
There were only two things in the world that could set Kurapika completely off the edge: everything and anything related to the Phantom Troupe… and Neon Nostrade.
"Kurapika! Get me my lavender nail polish!"
The blonde couldn't believe she'd been reduced to this, a mere petty servant of a spoiled, 16-year-old brat.
She stared with narrowed eyes at the drawer full of nail polish, a bottle for every possible color the average human eye could perceive – and then some.
In a tight voice, she said, "Would you like the one with or without glitter?"
"What do you think?"
Kurapika snatched up the glittery paint, so close to chucking it onto Neon's bed. Instead, it was a forceful toss.
"What's this?" She examined the bottle. "I wanted the other one, duh."
Kurapika lost it. In intervals. "Boss, maybe you could go pick out the ones you want."
"Why would I do that when people like you can do it for me?"
"I am not your maidservant, Boss. I am your bodyguard."
Neon waved the words away like they were persistent gnats. "Same thing."
"You said yourself – "
"I said, 'friends' and 'maidservants' aren't the same thing." She stared at her employee with rare, poisonous eyes. "But clearly you didn't want to make the distinction."
The blonde clenched her fists and her voice. "I've given you my reasoning before, Boss. I have no time for lollygagging right now. And considering my position, it's best if our relationship is kept strictly professional."
Neon didn't say anything for a long time, opting to give the wall the stink-eye. One thing Kurapika had duly noted very early on in this career was that her boss was absolutely terrible with comebacks. Naturally, Kurapika took advantage of this fact.
"Just get me the stupid paint."
This time, Kurapika really did fling the bottle at the bed.
十四
As little as she liked to admit it, the lone Kurta was still just a teenage girl. She could be dramatic, and bossy, and an arrant prat all she wanted, but not once would she ever concede to it. Maybe that was her downfall.
She passed the foyer when she heard that soft voice.
"Your heartbeat tells me you're feeling great enmity."
It was the dwa – er, Senritsu. Kurapika was not in the mood.
"What's all this heartbeat talk about? Is it your nen ability?" The blonde demanded.
"What do you think of the boss?"
"Vexing. And don't avoid my question."
Senritsu shook her head with a faint smile. "It's more of a curse."
"Curse?"
The smaller woman observed the area. No one was around, but then again, you could never be too sure when nen was involved.
"Follow me." She said.
十四
Kurapika couldn't hold back the jolt.
"That's why I'm taking this job." Senritsu said, sliding her sleeve back over her charred, deformed arm. "I heard there might be something tied to the Sonata of Darkness here at the auction. I'll do what I can to find that music piece and destroy it, so no one else has to be hurt by its sound."
The blonde swallowed. It was rude of her to respond this way, but in all honestly, she'd never seen a sight as gruesome as this before.
That's not true.
She set her jaw.
"What about you?" Senritsu asked, watching Kurapika with knowing eyes.
"What about me?"
Senritsu gazed at the gardens below them. They were on the roof of the mansion, leaning against the iron safety railing. "You know the verse of the song I heard gave me this ability, to read heartbeats. So it's no use trying to hide anything from me."
"True." Kurapika admitted. But that doesn't mean I want to tell you.
"It's about the scarlet eyes, right? I noticed your heartbeat played terrible notes when you saw the picture of those eyes. And," The short woman said. "I know you're not an ordinary person."
There was no use holding back now.
"Five years ago, the Kurta clan was wiped out." She said. "We are known for our special eyes. Normally, they're brown or grey, but they turn scarlet when we're… provoked. Everyone died, and many had their eyes stolen right out of their sockets, likely sold for a hefty price. I… am from that clan. I'm the sole survivor." She rested her weak arms on the railing; the story never got easier to tell.
"My goal is to obtain the eyes of my comrades. But I'm in hiding right now. That's why I wear these black contacts."
Senritsu didn't respond. She didn't even so much as look in Kurapika's direction.
The teen lowered her head. "Go ahead and report me."
"No."
She was too tired for this. "Why not?"
"Because you aren't ready to die."
Kurapika wasn't an emotional girl, but hearing such simple words brought a heavy lump to her throat. She didn't care to respond.
Senritsu didn't care to elaborate.
十四
Gon's eyes shone like the sun.
The old woman in the doorway stopped, a disbelieving look melting her wrinkly features. "Is that really you... Gon?" She took a step forward as if she was still too far away to be certain.
Seeing this woman now, the raven-haired girl remembered warm hugs, old stories by the fire, making cookies and getting covered in flour. Her eyes stung a little, but still, she smiled brightly and threw herself at the old woman.
"Grandma!"
Her grandmother was just as she remembered - soft with the scent of lilacs all around. It was a good kind of feeling, one of comfort, one she couldn't quite get with the Spiders. She realized she never wanted to let go.
But she did. She looked the woman over, finding nothing different from the old woman she was more than a decade ago, but that made her happy.
"Gon," There were tears streaming down her face. "Welcome home."
十四
The three sat around the kitchen table together. Gon's grandmother cut up the fresh-out-of-the-oven, warm, fluffy bread, buttering it generously. Gon's slice was gone in an instant; Killua still picked at his.
"I have to be honest with you." She handed each of them a mug of tea before settling down opposite them with her own steaming cup. "For the past eleven years, I thought you were dead."
Gon nodded. "Because I disappeared."
"But the thing is, I found your aunt's body the next day… but that's all I found." She took a sip, pain resurfacing on her face. "You were nowhere. I feared for the worst – that the ones who had killed your mother and aunt had taken you away. I couldn't bear the thought." The old woman took a shaky breath, replacing her unsettled expression for one of gratitude and unparalleled joy. "But I see you're alright, and that has lifted this burden off my shoulders." She glanced at the cast on Gon's right arm. "Well, mostly alright."
Gon laughed, but it died as quickly as a candle being blown out. Something was bothering her. She leaned forward, asking, "Why didn't they kill you?"
Her grandmother looked surprised.
"N – not because I think they should've killed you!" Gon waved her hands out in front of her, chuckling awkwardly. "I'm just curious. Were you not at the house?"
The old woman shook her head. "Your mother told me to hide in another room. I thought for sure they'd come after me as well, but they didn't even search the house."
Gon exchanged a glance with Killua, but all he looked was sick. She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you should wait outside."
He nodded, making his way out the back door. Moments later, they heard the rancid sound of vomiting.
"Is he okay?" The old woman asked.
"He's just feeling a little under the weather." Gon half-lied.
"That's too bad. It's the perfect time of year to be outside."
It was over 90 degrees with 50% humidity.
"So." Her grandmother took another sip of tea. "What happened that night? If you can remember, of course."
She twiddled her thumbs. "Do you want the long version or the short version?"
"Whichever one will answer my question."
Gon laughed a little inside, remembering the time in the airship when she told Killua her secret. Something she had never regretted, even now, nearly six months later. "I guess I'll tell the modified version."
She cleared her throat before beginning her slightly made-up tale.
"Aunt Mito had grabbed me and ran, trying to get away from the killer. But he was too fast. He killed Mito, and he was about to kill me too when… I was saved." She paused for a minute, thinking of how she could explain herself out of this one. "The people who saved me were tourists camping in the woods. They scared the killer off and took me to safety. They raised me as their child."
Sounded convincing enough, at least according to Gon. Her grandmother was a little miffed.
"That's equivalent to kidnapping. Those tourists could have tried to figure out if you had any blood relatives, or at least gone to the government about it! What were they thinking?"
Gon didn't understand legal anything. So she just shrugged.
"The nerve of some people…" She shook her gray head a little before standing and collecting the dishes. Gon immediately jumped up to help. She knew at least minor courtesy.
"By the way…" Her grandmother said. "What brings you back to the island? Alone, nonetheless?"
This was easy to lie about. "I wanted to see it again. Memories and all that. My family trusts me enough to let me travel. With a buddy, of couse."
"That sick boy?"
"… Yeah."
The old woman gave her a look. "They allow you to travel alone with a boy who isn't related to you?"
"Um… he's more like a… brother… to me?" Lying was starting to hurt.
Grandma had hawk-like eyes. Something about her reminded Gon of Pakunoda, the mother-figure in the Phantom Troupe. Eventually, she turned back to the stove, heating up another kettle. "Go get the young man. I have something that might help him."
Help fight residual nen? Gon didn't think so. Either way, she needed to talk to Killua, so she hopped out the door in search of her chalk-haired friend.
十四
Killua was under a nearby tree, hiding his face from the bitter sun. Gon came and plopped on the ground next to him, smiling and waiting for him to lift his head.
When he did, she saw how pale he looked – and that was scary for someone who was already nearly albino. There were dark shadows under his eyes and light beads of sweat dotting his papery skin. Gon felt guilty just looking at him.
"We can't stay here much longer." She decided. "I'll just let my grandma know that I need to get you home – which is a lie, of course."
He didn't respond, other than a barely distinguishable nod.
She took that as a good sign.
"I'll be right back." The teen jogged back into the house.
Inside, she found her grandmother stirring something foul and pasty in a wooden bowl. "This recipe has been used for generations in the Freecss family. It'll cure anything from splitting headaches to a violent case of the runs." She poured boiling water into the mixture; the color changed to a murky sort of green.
Gon didn't think Killua would drink that, let alone get within fifty feet of it. "He just needed some air."
"Nonsense! Trust me, as soon as this hits his small intestines – "
"Grandma." Gon said. "I was wondering if… if I could take that picture. The one in Aunt Mito's room."
The old woman seemed surprised, but a moment later, she set the concoction down. "You're leaving?"
Gon nodded.
"And… you're not coming back, are you?"
"Someday I will." She said. "But it might not be for a long, long time."
The air seemed to thicken, or maybe that was just the guilt creeping into Gon's soul. Her grandmother was visibly disappointed, her shoulders slumping as if boulders had been placed upon each one. She sighed. "If it's a picture you want… well, I have something worth a thousand of those."
She disappeared up the stairs. Gon almost followed, but at the last moment thought better of it.
When her grandmother returned, she was holding a small box. It was wrapped like a birthday present, complete with a tag. Gon read it.
"To my adorable little munchkin… love, Super Mom and Trash Dad." She looked up. "What is this?"
"That's for you to find out." She said. "They left this as a present to you, for when you grew up. I never thought I'd get to give it to you someday."
Gon held the small box with reverence. All she wanted to do was rip it open like a rabid five-year-old on Christmas morning, but she knew now wasn't the time. She carefully placed the gift in her backpack before facing her grandmother again. Words couldn't express what she was feeling right now, so she let a tight embrace do the talking.
The old woman ran her stiff fingers through her granddaughter's long hair, knowing she too didn't need any words for this moment.
Gon pulled away, sending her a small smile before walking towards the back door. "I want to promise you something." She said. "The next time I'm here, I won't have so many questions. I'll come home with nothing but you on my mind."
Her grandmother smiled back. She hoped to live to see that day.
Just as Gon reached for the door handle, the old woman called her back. She handed the teen a full thermos.
"Two tablespoons, three times a day." She patted Gon's hand. "Don't let him forget."
Gon knew then that a grandmother was a blessing.
十四
It wasn't until they reached the port village that Killua could walk upright on his own again.
"Sorry about… back there." He said, rubbing his forehead clean of grimy sweat. "I guess your mom still holds a grudge against me."
"She'll get over it." Gon said. Ahead of them, the boat to escape this island was calling for any late comers. Basically, if they didn't pick up the pace, the two were stuck on Whale Island for another week.
Killua wasn't happy to get on another wooden death trap, but at the moment, anything solid seemed good. He was ready to collapse, and not just from exhaustion.
He fell down onto the salty wooden floorboard, trying to settle into the rocking motion of the ship. Something heavy landed on his legs.
"Drink up." Gon said.
He glanced at the thermos, just now realizing how dehydrated he was. He would've tossed the cap and downed the whole thing in an instant under normal circumstances. But nothing could be considered normal when Gon was there, trying not to laugh.
"This is poisoned, isn't it?"
"You're immune to poison."
"Still hurts." He mumbled, opening the lid and peering inside. What he saw reminded him of things he prayed his whole life he'd forget.
"Two tablespoons, three times a day." She sang.
"You can't be serious."
"Hey." She opted for a serious expression. "My dear grandmother made that for you."
He didn't like the look of that face.
And really, he should've just cut his losses and tossed the thing, because now, three hours later, the muck was tossing him.
十四
Kurapika stared at the dark ceiling instead of sleeping that night.
The departure for Yorknew City was looming ever closer ahead.
十四
Next time, on 14:
"There must've been a reason someone wanted those two dead…"
"Meteor City is… a dump."
"Well done, Gon. You've completed your task very well."
Yes, grandma Freecss is OOC, WHAT OF IT?
*clears throat* Self-promotion time?
I finally posted the first chapter of my How to Train Your Dragon fic! It's called Odin Save Us All, an AU dealing with gangs/the Mafia/organized crime. Also, human dragons. That's gotta catch someone's attention, right?
It's kind of a mediocre beginning, but I think I can maybe promise that it'll get better? I guess that's something you'll just have to trust me on.
Also, does anyone have some good fic recommendations that deal with the Mafia/Mob/organized crime? Those are my faves. I typically use this site and AO3, sometimes Wattpad. And I don't care what fandom it's in, anything is good. (Except... Maybe not Frozen. Or MLP. But what are the odds, heheh?)
On another note, guys, thanks so much for the support I've gotten throughout this story. You people are the reason I keep writing. And REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED! Even if it's just a "hello" or you yelling at me about all the mistakes I've made in this story, I'd still be grateful for that. And I try to reply back to everyone (and it makes me sad that I can't reply to those of you who've disabled PMing… I guess I should just… reply to you in the author's note *hits self in the head with a hammer*).
Then a special thanks to VitameatavegaminGirl, Nispedana, and all the many guest reviews I've gotten so far! Just want you to know you're all amazing, and I don't ignore your comments! I LOVE AND EMBRACE THEM.
Sorry for the late update, btw. I've been out of town a lot recently and I've been sick three times in the last month and then I got all four of my wisdom teeth removed… (now I'm just rambling) yeah so hopefully I'll get another chapter posted before school starts again! I love you all!