A/N: Hi guys! How have you been?
I hope you like cheese because that's what you're having tonight. That and… answers. Or more questions, who knows ;) (hint: I do. I know. I know everything. Every misery that happens in this fic is my fault. I'm despicable.)
Anyway, I still haven't finished chapter 26, I'm sorry about that. I'm halfway there. I had a big report to send in this week and I had to deal with a bit of drama last week so I didn't have time or motivation to write (that's also why I haven't replied to some of your PMs, I promise I'm getting to it asap!). But on a brighter note, Hanallua are getting pretty daring in chapter 26, I think you guys will like it :D
Also! I commissioned the wonderful artist masthya to draw Hanallua and they gave me the result a few days ago! I put the link on my profile, and trust me, it's so gorgeous I haven't stopped staring at it! If you want, check it out! It's really worth it. It's just so accurate and lovely anddd Hana is wearing the floral dress she wore in both chapters 6 and 22! ANNND Killua is looking at her with such a soft gaze, I just melt at the thought. So yeah, check it out! Masthya is still taking commissions if you're interested.
Life wise, as I said before, the last days have been a bit wild lol. But I handled them quite well I think… I'm kinda proud of myself. I hope I have reasons to be.
But I'm on vacation now so I'll get to write more (and reply to your PMs, I promise!). Sometimes I struggle a bit because I really want to offer you quality so I don't want to rush, but I also want to keep updating regularly. I'll need all the support I can get.
Umm, fic rec wise, I don't think I'll ever stop recommending Among the water weeds by OooodlesOfNooodles! If you haven't read it yet, please do yourself a favor and check out this gem! It's just… so good, that 'good' can't even describe it. I adore this fic lol.
And as always, thank you all for reading, following, favorite-ing, and especially reviewing! I'm forever thankful to all of you. And you, reviewers, you make this story live. So thank you.
Anyway, go on and read the chapter now! Have fun ;)
Replies to guest reviews:
Irem: Hii! Thank you so much for your review omg! It made me so happy and oh God what you said was so sweet ;w; I hope you'll like them as lovers! Ahh and I hope it's all going well for you, with exams and life in general! I know how tough it can be u.u Thank you again! I love you too!
Chapter 24: A flicker of hope
"I won't be able to stop if I get a taste of you."
Her voice, eyes full of doubt, searching for something to hold onto, somewhere to hide. The shame, the pressure crushing her chest.
"You're the sugar in my life, Hana."
His voice, eyes full of confusion, seeking her gaze to reassure her, to make her see what he saw, what she thought she could never see. Surprise, relief, softness. His grip on her waist, his palm on her back.
"You make me feel whole."
The words coat her in warmth, little sparks melting the walls, thawing the ice. She picks them up, she treasures them, she repeats them on and on in her mind until she believes it.
"I can't get enough of you."
She is the one to speak those words but there is no doubt anymore. Just heat and gentleness, the token of their intimacy. She feels his breath on her lips and his body against hers and she reaches for his face, for his cheeks that she cups like something precious. Because he is precious to her. Her friend, her soulmate, her lover.
"Kiss me."
She kisses him.
She kisses him for what feels like forever yet ends too fast. She kisses him dumb and senseless. She kisses his lips and his neck and that warm spot under his ear, right where his jaw breaks into a straight line.
She doesn't know what happens next. Just them kissing and kissing in her bed. Just breathless laughs and greedy touches and moving bodies under the sheets.
And then, his arms around her, her back to his chest. She falls asleep, lulled by the regular sound of his breath in her ear. She falls into a restful sleep, the kind filled with quiet dreams.
Dreams where he holds her against the world.
10:02 A.M.
She shifted on the bed, her limbs tangled in the sheets, her eyes fighting the slits of sun filtered by the curtains. Little cameos of last night—lips and hands and gazes full of longing, full of want, and skin, his skin, her skin—floated in her mind. Sounds and voices and memories strung like pearls on a necklace. She remembered the things she had said and the things he had said and the hope warming her chest, warming the numbness and the doubts.
She moved on her side. The sheets were cold on his side of the bed, but the room smelt of pancakes and toasted bread and coffee and she knew he was still there, in the kitchen, preparing her favorite breakfast for her.
Slowly, taking her sweet time, she stretched in the bed, feeling each muscle warm up, becoming aware of each part of her body, of the sweet aftermath of their exploration. Her airy head. Her kiss-swollen lips. Her neck hot with a hickey. Her skin shivering with want, everywhere he had touched her—arms, neck, cheeks, back, thighs.
She sighed of satisfaction. She was still sleepy, tired, a little drowsy from the night.
Making out was tiring, mind you.
And boy had they made out. A lot.
With a little giddy smile, she reached for the smudged spot on her neck, the little hickey he had left right next to her puppy-paw-shaped beauty spot.
His lips trailed from her jaw to her neck, languid kisses pressing on her skin. She closed her eyes, abandoning herself to him, his touch, his lips.
She closed her eyes then too, reminiscing the moment, the delightful moment.
She felt him smile when he reached that spot near the puppy paw, lingering longer there. She knew he liked her beauty spots, and he had a certain thing for this tiny puppy-paw-shaped set of beauty spots in her neck. Occasionally, she'd find him glancing at it, his gaze lost in a fantasy that she could never decipher. One that he perhaps was living in that moment, with his lips brushing her neck.
Then, it was teeth and tongue, hard and smooth, hot and sensual. His mouth on her neck and his hand gliding up her thigh, grabbing it right below her backside. He stole a gasp and countless shivers at the touch, biting and sucking but never too hard, never too harsh. Just a little pain, a sharp prickle to make her skin remember, a little passion to make her burn slowly. And pleasure. So much pleasure. It pooled and throbbed and twisted in the depths of her chest, in her lower stomach, in the tip of her breasts pressed against his chest—he knew, surely, the things he did to her. He heard her messy breathing, her inaudible moans. He felt her. Her body slightly arching into his. Her hand tugging at his roots, clasping his shirt.
"Too rough?" he murmured in her neck.
It took her a few seconds to register what he was saying. "Keep going," she simply said, tugging harder.
He chuckled softly. And resumed doing his holy work. Until her skin did remember and her mind was aloft with sleepiness and heat. Only then, he lay one last, chaste kiss to dilute the sharpness, a little smug and suggestive smile on his lips.
And then, she gladly returned the favor, to mark his neck with her greedy lips and her greedier teeth.
Until his skin remembered.
She buried her head in the pillow, now fully awake, to hide her grin.
So they had kissed.
They had left hickeys in each other's necks.
They had made out till they both dropped of exhaustion.
All that, in such a little time. It was like being buried in sweets after being on the other side of the candy shop for two whole months. There was so much to feel.
And so much left to feel.
She flung her feet over the bed as she sat up, and she rubbed her eyes. She popped a tiny mint candy in her mouth, checked her face in the mirror, and tied her hair in a 'mushroom bun' as Killua liked to call it—a high, thick bun on top of her head.
A moment later, she was standing at the threshold of the kitchen, leaning against the door frame with a smile that matched his.
She said nothing. Neither did he.
Silently, she strolled toward him and sneaked her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Hi," she said—and laid a soft kiss on his nape. He still smelt of bedsheets and sleep and pancakes and, undeath it all, the ever-present white musk.
He flipped the pancake over then turned around to meet her gaze, just as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Hi."
And they just stared at each other, wondering if they should kiss.
They decided that they should.
Once.
Twice.
Lingering, for a second.
(Okay, thrice, because when they parted, he leaned in for another kiss.)
"Do you often brush your teeth before breakfast, Hana?" he asked when she was sitting at the bar and he was finishing the pancakes.
"I just took a mint candy."
"Why?"
"Don't complain. I just saved your life."
"From?"
"Bad morning breath."
He chuckled. "You think my breath doesn't smell like shit on mornings?"
"It doesn't."
"Well, ask Gon."
She sipped on her black coffee, watching him work. She loved watching him prepare breakfasts for her, or just take care of her. "Slept well?"
He glanced at her while he opened the cupboard, a knowing smile on his lips. "Guess?"
All she could reply with was a cheeky grin.
He took the maple syrup from the cupboard, then found the jar of Nutella among the other sweet spreads and brought them both to the dining table. She hopped off her stool while he fetched the juice and she put the last pancake in the tower of pancakes on a plate, finally deciding to lend a hand. Then, she joined him and put the plate in the middle of the table, with her black coffee next to her plate and his hot chocolate near his.
"What a fest," she commented as she sat down and contemplated the mouth-watering breakfast. He always said she had grandma skills but he was just as bad.
"I figured we needed some energy after the… events, of yesterday."
Her eyes fell on the pink, slightly purple-ish smudges on his neck—there were two, one on his neck, near his jaw, and one at the base of his neck. She reached for the small hickeys, brushing them with her fingertips. "I really went at it."
"I'm not complaining," he said, taking her hand, and kissing the back of her fingers.
She blushed. "But like, don't you have a meeting today?"
"Yeah, why?"
More blushes. "I can help you cover them if you need. With, um, foundation. If it bothers you."
He arched an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eyes. "Why?"
"Because I think I didn't choose very… strategic places. I didn't even think twice yesterday," she fumbled. "Everybody's gonna see them. If that makes you uncomfortable…"
He chuckled. "I don't care. Unless it bothers you. Shows people I'm yours."
(The thought was exhilarating.) "It doesn't bother me. It's your body."
"I wear them like prizes," he explained, smoldering gaze boring into hers. "To remind me your lips were on my neck yesterday."
There, her grin was back. "To remind you there'll be more."
"Now that's something I like to hear."
"Tonight?" she asked, raising shy eyes toward him. "You wanna sleep here?"
"Why the shy eyes when you know the answer's gonna be 'yes'?"
"Because you have the right to say 'no'."
"I know. Hana, I've never felt compelled to do anything with you. Everything I do, I do it because I want to."
She smiled fondly. "It's so easy, being with you."
"I'm such a wonder," he said, though his eyes looked away with well-masked shyness. It really didn't take much to please him.
"You are."
There, the ever-so-rare, legendary blush tinting his cheeks. Not out of embarrassment, but of happiness. She could count all the times it had happened on the fingers of one hand, and each time was precious to her. "Allan invited me to some HCDS party," he changed the topic, finishing a pancake. She had been so engrossed in the conversation she had forgotten to eat.
She picked two pancakes and drowned them in maple syrup—just like he did. "He told me about it. He did say he wanted to invite you." She didn't add she had been invited too, but he had surely guessed.
"Did he mention what it was about?"
"The President solving a complicated case. Something about the dismantlement of a weapon-trafficking business—one of them, at least. And also the engagement of one of his daughters."
"Sounds… cool…" Killua tried. "You're not coming, I suppose?"
"I don't think so. I don't belong in there anymore. Too many people will recognize me."
"I understand." And he probably did, but there was still this small disappointment in his eyes, for a split second. And that alone was enough to make her wonder the impossible—what if she did go to that party? "I think Faem will be there," he dropped.
"He's one of the benefactors. It'll be his perfect time to shine."
"How does the HCDS associate with one of the biggest Mafia heads?" he scoffed.
"Money," she mumbled. "That's all there is."
"Or perhaps he's close to the higher-ups," he theorized.
She finished her coffee. "That wouldn't surprise me." He was silent all of a sudden. "Killua? Something's wrong?"
He blinked. "I just realized… isn't your mom a hunter? An HCDS agent?"
"Yeah?"
"… So she'll be at the party?"
"I think so?"
"So I might meet her…"
She blinked. "Wait. Are you…?"
"Nervous? Nah." He got up and put his plate in the sink. "… What is she like?"
"People call her the Dragon, Steamroller, Destructor, and other pleasant things. If that gives you an idea."
"… Nice. She didn't look so intimidating in your pictures."
She rested her head on her hand, staring at him with a playful expression. "I can't wait to tell her."
"Tell her what?"
"That we made out senselessly on my bed."
"…"
She chortled. "Hey, relax. She's cool. She knows I've been crushing on you for weeks." Her cheeks felt hot to admit it out loud.
Just like a spell, he found all of his confidence and flashed the smuggest smirk ever—and underneath it all, a little glint of excitement. "For weeks? So when I said you were head over heels for me, I wasn't wrong?"
"Shut up, will you?"
He laughed, the sweetest sound to her ears, and bent down to lay a peck on her lips. "We're a good match."
"We are."
They started cleaning together. And as usual, she was the one to do the dishes when he cooked. Traditions; they had their little quirks.
Her mind wandered while she scrubbed the dishes, listening to him humming a song while sweeping the floor. It felt so natural to be with him like this, it didn't feel different at all. And yet it was. At once, nothing and everything was different, and she was both serene and curious about what could happen now, between them. Now that they had taken down this old barrier between them. It wasn't like they were strangers; they had spent so much together, had spent so many nights over, doing nothing but talking and sharing and listening to each other. They had their habits together—they did behave like an old married couple, as Elias had said.
But at the same time, there was so much left to discover. They were comfortable together but she couldn't help wondering what was planned for them. They weren't even officially in a relationship yet.
And she knew there was something he wasn't telling her. Not about Alluka, or his family, or anything. But something about the surreptitious twitch of his eyelids whenever she sounded mildly offended, the flicker in his eyes when she disagreed with something. It was barely noticeable, but she knew him enough to sense something was wrong. And she didn't want to force him to talk about it, he would tell her if she needed to know, but it was worrying. As if sometimes, during certain moments, he lost his confidence for a split second and braced himself for something she wasn't sure of. As if he was worried.
"I'll be using your shower," he said. She flinched out of her thoughts. He frowned. "You okay?"
For the slight moment it took her to answer, she saw it. The flicker, the twitch of his eyelids. Ever since they had started flirting, seducing each other, she had been seeing them more and more. "Yeah!"
"You sure?"
"Absolutely certain."
He pressed his lips against her cheek. "Okay. See ya."
She giggled as he tickled her neck with more little pecks.
Then, he went to the bathroom while she did the dishes. She hoped he was reassured from whatever was troubling him.
She wanted to make him feel safe, as safe as he made her feel.
4:45 P.M.
The day had gone by at an incredible speed. Meeting after meeting after task completed—with his mind always locked on the feel of her body against his, the texture of her lips in his neck.
And now that he was finally free, she wasn't.
So he had gone to the only place he could go, to free his mind.
The basketball court.
He took a deep breath, his open book placed on his chest at the page he had stopped reading. He was watching the sky, azure and cerulean and nuances of periwinkle peeking from behind the moving clouds. So many blues for a single sky, so many ways to see it.
But no matter what he saw, no matter the type or the color, the blue always faded to spring green and peach pink and sweet golden.
It always came down to her.
Always. Always her.
He closed his eyes. He still felt the silk of her lips pressed against his skin, the obsessing sparks sizzling wherever she kissed him. The surge of heat when they had kissed for the first time, the first of many that had followed.
And her scent. Her warmth. Her presence.
He breathed in deep. Filled his lungs.
He was falling for her dangerously fast. Without ever suspecting it. Just yesterday, he had held her and he had known that he was in love. He had probably been for a long time before that—here, as he thought of the previous weeks with hindsight, he pinpointed the moments when it had been so obvious. But the thought had only occurred to him that one morning at the airport. That was the moment it all made sense. The elation and the desire. The genuine admiration, the affection, the attraction. All of it had a meaning.
And he had been happy. He still was. To be in love. To be in love with someone like her, someone so bright and warm and soft. So full of light, though she didn't see it. He had been relieved, too. That the questions had answers, that he had admitted it to himself. And he would never give up those feelings, no matter how overwhelming they were.
But there was a problem. Because good things didn't come to Killua without a problem. They never did.
And the problem was that he was scared.
The thing with romance was that it rarely ended well. Perfect friendships were ruined by imperfect romances, and you would lose not only a lover but a friend as well.
And Killua did not want to lose Hana. Not as a friend, not as a lover.
But why would it not work out? you'd ask. They had a great dynamic, a solid friendship, their own old-married-couple quirks and habits. They were both understanding and opened up to each other more easily than they would to other people. Elias would say, 'you're both smitten with each other and you like each other so why worry?' Their budding romance had no reason to end in a disaster like his previous relationship had, right?
When he put it that way, Killua could almost believe that he had no reason to worry. But the demons were quick to catch up. To bring up the past mistakes and wave them in front of him. 'Did you forget about that? How can you believe it's that easy?' they would say. 'You love her so you think it can work out? You think you can make it work out? You really believe you can make her happy?' they would snicker over and over.
And it was pretty convincing. Truly. Especially when they rewound the arguments and the tears and the fights. All the times he had been told 'why won't you open up to me?!' and 'you have too much darkness for me to handle' and 'I feel like you don't even care'. All the times he had tried to push himself forward, to make an effort, any effort, to try harder. All the clumsy attempts to mend the broken bones, to open his mouth and say something intimate, something about him, to fill the cracks and warm the cold and just, just open up.
To no avail.
His lips were sealed. His eyes were dry. His heart was shut.
He had failed once. He had thought it could work out, that he had moved on, that he was whole again. But he had failed. He had hurt someone he loved. He had disappointed her and wasted her time.
All because he was a broken little thing in a shiny armor.
He swallowed, shuddering.
What if it happened the same way with Hana? What if he lost her too? He wouldn't be able to bear it. Not her. Not Hana. He desperately wanted to make it work with her.
But the question was, could he?
Could he trust this tiny hope, this shy little flicker of light struggling to outshine the demons? Could he listen to the timid voice in his ear that murmured he had a chance, one chance at last, that he had to seize it? He wanted to believe it. He really did. She gave him hope and strength and sun and he was pulled toward her like a sunflower to the sky. She gave him care and patience and, and safety, understanding, love. What if it really was different between them? This sense of familiarity between them, the casualness of their interaction, the easy and soft moments. He felt like he had known her all his life yet at the same time he never wanted to stop getting to know her. She had said it herself, it was easy between them.
What if it was different?
He sighed, sitting up on the bench, closing his book. He was overthinking again. And all that overthinking was depressing. He rubbed his face.
The truth was, he was such a hypocrite. Telling her that she would not hurt him, that she would not disappoint him. Encouraging her to open up and share her emotions. Arguing that it was nasty to bottle up her feelings. Repeating over and over that her problems were no burden to him. And then kissing her.
Only to struggle with the same issues. With the burden he was afraid to share, afraid to smother her with.
He scoffed.
He was such a fucking hypocrite.
His phone started ringing just as he was looking for something to take his mind off this issue. Pickles, who had been under the bench the whole time, ran away at the sound.
It was a call from Gon.
"Gon?"
"Hey, Killua!" he said, as joyful as ever.
It was impossible not to smile when Gon greeted him like that. "Why hello, your majesty. I tried to call you two days ago. You didn't pick up."
"I was free the whole damn time, you found the only moment when I couldn't pick up to call me!"
He laughed. "I'm so offended. Just when I thought I was a priority to you."
"Well excuse you, but unless your majesty can bend plane rules, I'm afraid I couldn't do much."
"A plane? Not a blimp?"
"Yep. I was called for an emergency issue in Tanalea," Gon said, their previous jokes fading as they both focused. "A blimp was too slow."
"What happened? You're okay?"
"I'm fine. But the fauna here…"
"What's wrong?"
Gon took a deep breath. "A slaughter. Some poachers have been slaughtering sacred tusked tigers and dragon-lizards, in the High Forest near Nea. The populations protecting them called for beast hunters; my partner and I were the first to answer."
"Why would they do that? Sell them?" He frowned.
Gon sounded weary when he answered. "We think so. They're very expensive on the black market. The tusks of two tigers could buy you a luxurious car."
"Or weapons."
"You're quick to pick up," Gon noted.
"Who will use those weapons? The rebels?"
Gon exhaled. "I think so. A rebellion is brewing. It's only a matter of time before it ignites."
Killua swallowed, his mouth heavy. His eyelids twitched and his jaw was set. "And you were called to protect the animals," he deduced.
"That's right. We're pretty busy; they're getting very creative."
"Awesome," Killua mumbled. "Stay safe, though."
"Yeah, don't worry about me. You should worry about those poachers because I'm gonna kick their ass so hard they'll sink to hell where they belong."
Killua chuckled. "They deserve it."
"What about you?" Gon asked. "How is it going with Hana?"
"What do you mean, 'how is it going?'"
"I mean, have you two become, uh, close friends?"
"Hmm." He smirked. "If by 'close friends' you mean hanging out, watching movies together, making out, and cooking together then yeah. We're close enough."
The silence on the other side was hilarious. "... Wait. You made out with her? What? When?"
"Yesterday."
"… Okay. Well, now that's a twist. Killua, are those your friendship standards? Because I don't know if I'm ready to make out with you."
"Ugh. No, no. Gon. That's like incest."
Gon laughed wholeheartedly. "For real though, I'm happy for you. Are you going out or not yet?"
"Wow, slow down there. I'm still getting used to kissing her. One thing at a time."
"So you do intend on going out with her," Gon inferred.
Killua pondered the question. And he thought, yes, he did. He was sure of that. But when? "I do. I want to make things move forward between us. I… I'm clumsy at it, but I want to make it work. I just need some time. I'm…" Scared? Anxious?
"Worried," Gon finished. "Afraid that it will be like before. Right?"
"Yeah."
"You're scared it will repeat your last relationship."
"… I am…"
Gon remained silent, the way he was when he thought of how to word something that seemed obvious to him. Clarity through the fog. "As you said, you need time. I'm not really worried; from what you told me, she's a sweetheart and you two actually talk. And you're compatible That's all you need, really."
"I'm aware. But…" He exhaled soundly. "I can't help worrying. What if I ruin it all? I don't want to lose her," he admitted, and it was as though he relieved himself from a big weight, to say it to his best friend.
"You won't. I can feel it." He sniffed. "I can smell it."
Killua laughed. "You're such a moron."
"At your service." Gon moved a glass on a wooden surface. "Killua, you're not defined by what happened between you and Xoelle. Even less by the things she-who-must-not-be-named did to you before her."
Killua found himself chuckling. "She's not Voldemort, Gon."
"Yeah. She's not. Voldemort was honest about being a bastard, at least." He pushed a chair, the grating sound exaggerated by the phone, and sat down with a huff. "Xoelle is not Hana. I know her and I cherish her, but she's… she wasn't compatible with you. And you were not ready to be with Xoelle after what Voldemorte did to you. But now, I can feel you're different. You have moved on, Killua."
Killua let Gon's words soothe him, even though all he could think was that perhaps Gon believed too much in him. He thought of what Hana had said the day before, when he had tried to tell her she was getting better. 'You believe so much in me.' Now, he understood what she meant. "I hope so. There is so much I want to offer, to share with her." Moments and laughs and secrets. Intimacy. Trust. He wanted to give it all to her.
"I know you'll be ready. And I know she'll wait for you to be ready. But… You'll have to tell her, eventually, Killua."
Pickles came back and slid under the bench. "I will. I don't know when, perhaps if she tries to talk about it, but I'll tell her." His chest constricted at the thought. Having to spill his secrets, to disappoint her so early. Could he do it, really? He told himself it was no different from their friendship, but the stakes weren't the same.
There was always the threat of losing her.
"Hmm." Gon didn't say more, but by the sound of his exhale, Killua knew he had something in mind. The 'something' probably being Killua and his never-ending doubts.
"Gon, don't worry about me. Will you be reachable during your stay at Tanalea?" he distracted.
"I should be. I'll stay here for a few weeks to secure the land and teach the local populations how to protect the fauna. A little sensitization and perhaps some techniques. We'll see."
"And after that?"
"I'm not sure yet. My team is finishing the job at the Great East so I'll be free when I'm done with Tanalea. We'll see what I could do then."
Come here, Killua thought, but he didn't say it. As much as he wanted to see Gon, he didn't want to disrupt his work. "Then I can contact you for the upcoming weeks," he affirmed, though it was more of a question.
"Yep! I'm reachable the whole stay." He snickered. "I'll be available for romantic counselling, anytime."
Killua groaned. "Shut up, Gogoon."
"Not that nickname. Please." A few voices erupted from Gon's side, talking to him in Tanalean. Killua picked up a few words from the little Tanalean he knew—something to do with a chief who wanted to speak to Gon. "Sorry Killua, I have to go," Gon said when he was done speaking to the people in perfect Tanalean. "I'll call you back later, okay? Or you. And text me. Okay?"
"Yeah, we'll do that. Be careful. Don't get your ass bitten by some tusked tiger. Might sting a little bit."
Gon chuckled. "It just might. Bye, Killua."
He left after that, and Killua was now alone again.
Or well, not exactly. Pickles had decided his legs were her new bed, and she was resting against his thighs—giving him no choice of movement. Animals rarely liked him, but Pickles was obsessed with him—especially that day. Perhaps because he smelt like Hana.
He thought of Gon's calm voice telling him that he had moved on, that he had time, that he was different, stronger, better. That he had to trust himself and trust his feelings. That this flicker of hope wasn't a lure. That it was real, he had a chance, he had to seize it.
And he wanted to believe Gon. His encouragements, his supportive words. Just him, really.
He sighed. How he wished Gon could be here with him, patting his back and making him laugh his doubts away.
Now more than ever, he realized how must he missed him.
6:28 P.M.
She quietly pushed the portal to the court, careful not to make it grate as she closed it behind her. Scanning the court, she saw Killua lying on a bench, an open book on his face. He had crossed his arms beneath his head. Pickles was asleep in her favorite bush.
After putting a bowl of food for Pickles, she tiptoed her way to him and, ever so slowly, leaned a knee on the bench to bend over him. She slowly took the book from his face, and placed the bookmark as she closed it.
Then, she looked at his face. His eyelids so light on his eyes, eyelashes curving around them. His mouth slightly open. His hair like feathers on his forehead.
Even in sleep he looked beautiful.
With a mischievous smile, she reached for his cheek, meaning to poke him. But he deftly grabbed her wrist before she could touch him, making her flinch in surprise.
He opened one eye and smiled in victory. "You thought I was asleep, right?"
"You weren't?"
"I was—until you open that portal."
"Aw." She tried to wriggle but he held her firmly.
The tip of her hair was touching his nose, so he scrunched it and turned his face. "Get your hair away from my face," he groaned, but she straddled him and bent a bit further, taking a strand of hair with her free hand and tickling his nose with it. "Goddammit Hana, stop—ugh just stop!"
But she didn't stop. She kept going, like the annoying ass she was, snickering until he grabbed her other arm and sat up with a groan.
"Hi," she pretended to greet him.
"You're straddling me."
"I know. It's on purpose."
He shifted under her. "Well, I'm not gonna complain."
She took the book he was reading, curious. It was the Metamorphosis, by Kafka. "Is it good?"
He looked at the cover. "No idea."
"What do you mean? You don't read it?"
"I do."
"You like it?"
"No."
She giggled. "Then why do you read it?" she pressed.
He shrugged. "Helps me sleep."
"I see." She skimmed through the page and stopped right when the main character was struggling to move on the bed. "What happened to him?"
"He woke up one day and turned into a giant cockroach."
She scrunched her nose. "Interesting." She closed the book. "Would you still like me if I woke up one day in the body of a cockroach?"
He stared at her with a blank face. "Hana, I just woke up."
"Would you?"
"No."
She pouted. "You're so mean to me."
His hand lodged in the small of her back, pulling her closer. "I'm a despicable human being."
"Yes," she agreed, pressing her chest against his, her cheek on his shoulder. "My despicable human being."
"Such a romantic confession," he mused while he stroked her back, his hand moving in slow circles. He pressed his lips to her temple, causing her to sigh with relief. She felt blissful.
"I think I saw something about Kafka in the notes Tom gave me," she said, thoughtful. Her voice was so light, lulled by his tender gestures.
"Right, he's a literary guy. He likes it?"
"Tom doesn't like a lot of things," she admitted. "Except June."
She felt his smile in her hair as he kissed her. "Would be quite a problem if he even disliked his boyfriend."
"That's true." She snuck her arms on his sides and crossed them on his back, hugging him tighter. She left a trail of light kisses from his neck to his jaw, lingering on the warm spot under his ear. He melted under her lips.
"You didn't come to play basketball," he noted when he realized she didn't have her ball with her.
"No. I came to find you. I knew you'd be here when I come back."
He ran his fingers through her hair. "You make me feel very sappy and cheesy. It's unsettling. Stop it."
"I like sappy-and-cheesy Killua. I like all Killuas."
"That's not gonna help with the cheesiness."
They stayed that way for a moment. Together in a warm embrace. Exchanging butterfly kisses. Murmuring sweet things and innocent jokes and softly laughing at them. Soothed by the late afternoon calm, the time when the sun was dipping low as the day ended. No rush, no pressure. Nothing but rest after a long day.
They only started moving when the sky turned purple and the birds huddled in their trees for the night, dotting the sky as they traveled through the city to their nest. Elias was supposed to join them. The day may be ending, but their real work was only beginning.
So they stood up, picked their stuff—his book and her bowl—, and she petted Pickles one last time before they went to her apartment.
The whole time, they thought of the night they'd spend together.
It drove them forward.
7:24 P.M.
A lot of things had changed since the last time Elias had seen Killua and Hana. Which was, just yesterday.
For instance, 353,000 babies had been born and 150,000 people had died. Some people had gotten married, some others had filed for divorce. Some had adopted puppies and kitties and bunnies. Some others had opted for goldfish—they were low maintenance. Around a hundred species had become extinct, but a scientist was working on one of the thousands of new species discovered each year. Eventually, he would break through
Some people had met. Some had fallen in love. Some had kissed and made love and confessed. No matter the order in which that happened.
But most importantly, since yesterday, one thing, in particular, had changed.
Hana and Killua had finally become a thing.
They thought Elias hadn't seen them, but he had glimpsed a quick kiss while they were away in the kitchen fetching something to eat while he waited in the working room—no, he wasn't following them, but he had forgotten to tell them he was allergic to peanuts and that was what they wanted to to eat, and he cared enough about his life to prefer not dying because of a peanut. It was chaste and sweet but it was there. Besides, Elias figured they had all time to do not-so-chaste stuff when there was nobody inconveniencing them (him, for that matter). The hickeys on their necks were enough proof of that.
And boy that was a relief. Elias had never thought he'd feel that happy to see two people dating—without one of them being him. Perhaps it was because he liked them both. Yeah, friends, right? Friends were supposed to be happy when good things happened to their friends. So yeah, that was probably half the reason—the other half being that he was sure he had triggered something when he had forced them to look their blatant attraction in the eye. Elias the light-bringer. The one who shed light on the obvious for the ridiculous lovebirds too shy to notice they were both pining for each other.
He was such a saint.
It was only a matter of time till they started dating. Not immediately, because Elias figured they were both the type to let things cool down before they rushed into a decision. But eventually…
He shook his head. He cared way too much about these two.
"We're back," Hana chimed as she entered the room with a tray of snacks. "With no peanuts. But we brought nougat, almonds, chips, and salty cookies. Should be fine right? The pizzas are on their way."
"Perfect," Elias said, making some room on the table for the tray. Hana decidedly didn't do things by half.
Killua sat facing him, with Hana on the end of the table so they were all around the tray—the table was small enough. "So, share what you got. Did you manage to find the date of the Memory Market?"
Elias picked a chip from the bowl. "I still need to confirm it, but it's in a month. It should be around the end of June. I still need to get the exact date though. I talked to a guy who said the real date is only available within a week of the actual event—to ensure the event isn't crashed by authorities. Or by thieves," he finished.
"So we've got time till the Memory Market happens then," Hana said. "If it's around the end of June, we should be ready starting from the middle of the month. And find out what to do in the meantime. But the problem is, if the info that the Market is held at the end of June is a lure, we'll be too late." There, the worst-case scenario. "Are your sources reliable?"
"Should be," Elias said. "One of them uses those memories in his drugs. Makes them more effective to drug addicts. He'd better have his merchandise. He's always aware of all the events held down there, anyway."
"And the other?" Killua asked.
"A rival of his. I always double check what either one of them tells me with the other. Their interests strongly converge so when they give me similar info, I tend to think it's relevant. They're both expecting the Market too."
Killua nodded. "Should do it. As Hana says, though, it's better if we regularly check for the exact date. And the place, since it will be revealed pretty late, right?"
"Three days before the exact date," Elias informed. "Three days to let you book your tickets or find your ways to get there."
Killua flashed a wry smile. "They're very prudent."
"They've always been," Hana intervened. "I don't know much about the Underground but I do know they're very cautious about everything they do. Even more since the Southern Peace auction six years ago. The one crashed by the Phantom Troup. It's in their interest, for their economy, to be careful."
Killua's face was grim for a moment—a shadow, no more. "Makes sense. In the meantime, we can focus on getting info. About Faem, Charybdis, Scylla."
Elias flinched then, as he remembered what he had wanted to show them. "Speaking of Charybdis," he started, fishing in his pockets for a piece of Bristol card. "I got this, this morning." He put the card on the table.
Elias,
E. F. knows you're working with Killua. He wants to reach for you, turn you into a spy.
He knows there is a third person with you, but he still doesn't know who. It won't take him long to figure it out.
Be careful. He has great sources.
Your friends,
Charybdis and Scylla.
He watched as Hana passed the card to Killua, as Killua skimmed through the contents of the message. His blue eyes were shimmering with intelligence.
"They signed together," Killua first announced, placing the card in the middle. "Which means they know we know about Scylla."
"So they know I went there and stole the document," Hana deduced. "They know the 'third person' is me."
"They know everything," Killua muttered. "And they want us to know that they do. Nothing they do is innocuous."
Elias pursed his lips. "Can we trust them? With Hana's identity?"
"That's what we should try to figure," Killua answered. "We've got roughly a month till the Market. Given that we'll monitor the date and location, that gives us some leeway to find out about our… odd allies."
With disdain, Elias reached for the card and read it again.
He wants to reach for you, turn you into a spy.
The words pissed him off. No matter his lightness, his tendency to not bother with what people thought of him. Because they were true. Faem did think he could simply make Elias betray Hana and Killua. He did think that, with a jewel or some money, he could get him to do anything.
The worst was that if it had been about betraying anyone else, Elias might have considered the offer, as low as that sounded. He used to not care at all, whoever he had to betray, to get what he wanted. It had been a long time since he had last made friends. Real friends, who cared about him, his wellbeing, his mental state.
And it was scary. Because he cared in return. And he knew that given the time, he'd care enough to make sacrifices.
Just when he had tried so hard to not get close to people.
"Does it bother you?" Hana chimed in, looking at him with concern. "That Faem wants to make a spy out of you?"
Boy, she's so perceptive, he thought. It was almost frustrating, how she could guess so well what bothered him. It was like she had an emotional radar. "Nah, I'm good." Not convincing.
"Hey, we trust you," Killua added. "As stupid as that sounds because you're an idiot."
Elias smirked. "You're crazy about me, aren't you." His smile died. "I hate that he thinks I'd betray my friends. His 'sources' must have told him I somehow… got close to you."
Killua smiled—Holy Mother of God, the beauty. "Friends?"
Elias looked away. "I can't believe I just said that."
She chuckled. Her laugh was pretty, like little bells. "We are friends, Elias. Even if most of the time you make me feel like the mom of a stubborn kid."
"Besides," Killua started in a more serious voice. "It could be your strength. That Faem doesn't know you. Not the real you. The less he knows, the better you are."
"I know. And like, it's not a surprise that he'd think that of me. I have a reputation."
"The guy who doesn't give a shit," Hana mused.
"Yeah, that guy suddenly gives a shit about two people," Elias mumbled.
Killua nodded toward him. "Tell yourself those people give a shit about you in return."
He feigned to be shocked. "Wow. Did you just say that? Something nice? For me?"
"That won't happen a lot so remember it," Killua joked.
Hana's phone started ringing on the table, interrupting the light-hearted moment. When she saw who was calling, she stood up suddenly with her phone in hand.
"It's Kai," she said, to answer Killua's questioning look. He surreptitiously tensed up at the name.
"Kai?"
She glanced at Elias before going out of the room. "A friend."
Okay. Her ex was calling.
Talk about a timing.
"Kai?"
"Hana, hey."
She closed the door behind her, ambling in the corridor while she spoke. "How are you?" she asked, though what she really wanted to ask was, 'why are you calling?' But she knew why he was calling. Hence her impatience.
"I'm good. I'm calling you because I found something. Is now… a good time?"
She focused on his low voice, obstructing all the noises around her. Elias laughing in the workroom. The clock. The water in the pipes. She ignored them all, focused solely on Kai and the revelations he would make. "It's a perfect time. Do tell."
He exhaled—of relief or weariness, she didn't know. He had always been enigmatic. Perhaps too much for her doubtful nature. "You were right, Hana. About the amaryllis. Perhaps even about the Whisper."
Her chest shook with a heavy exhale. "What do you mean?"
"I still need to gather more information, but there is a flower that causes the symptoms of the Whisper's curse. And I've caught some crumbs here and there about a clan with amaryllises tattooed on their palms. All I know so far is that they're not liked, and very few are still alive. I can't give you all the details by phone though. I still have to confirm it." He exhaled. "But you were right. Your intuition was right."
She barely heard herself breathe out. "You're amazing," she voiced. "You said you couldn't give everything by phone. Are you gonna come to Megamshill?"
He didn't reply right away. She recognized his hesitations there. "It'd be safer. If you accept to see me, of course. I don't want to bother."
"You won't. I'm already making you do extra work, and I'm really thankful, Kai. Thank you."
"No need to," he said under his breath. "I'll be in Megamshill in a few weeks. Two, perhaps three. I want to gather as much evidence as I can before that. So far, I've got pictures and an artifact you might recognize. But I heard there was a book, too. If I can get you a copy, I will." His voice then sank to a whisper. "People are reluctant to talk about it, Hana. I'm worried this could get you in trouble."
He was so much more talkative when it came to his work. And though she hated to admit it, his passion made him endearing, and she found herself enthralled by his words. "Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself instead. You're sure you're safe?"
He chuckled lightly—everything Kai did was with measure, lightness, caution. "I'm used to it. I'm always looking where I shouldn't, don't worry."
"Are you certain you're not getting in trouble?"
"Yeah. More like the contrary. I'm having fun."
She couldn't help a smile. "I'm glad then. Quench your thirst of knowledge, young man."
Unlike their first call, which had been awkward and had left him baffled every time she spoke, he seemed more at ease this time—and so was she. He even let himself chuckle at her little attempt at a joke. "You sound better," he noted. "Lighter."
Her cheeks warmed up as she grinned. "I'm just into good hands," she admitted, thinking of the serene blue of Killua's eyes.
"I'm happy for you."
She grinned. "Thanks," she honestly answered. Kai was making so many attempts to redeem himself, his words radiated sincerity and good will. Truly, she wasn't sure she had met someone so selflessly kind before, to the point of self-erasure.
"I have to go," he announced, clearing his throat. "I'll update you on what I find, on when I come, and so on."
"Thank you, Kai," she said, hoping her gratitude could come across the phone. "Really, you're saving me."
"It's nothing."
They bid each other goodbye then.
And she was left with the sinking realization that she knew something about the Whisper, something nobody knew. The source of his power. His dark roots so deeply intertwined with a hated clan. His identity entangled with his muse, a poisonous flower. A poisonous amaryllis.
She took a deep breath, feeling the air fill her lungs in a rare moment of clarity.
For the first time since forever, she felt like her trauma wasn't unsurmountable. Even if it was only a drop in the ocean, it was still something. A name to give to her fears, to humanize this demon, like Killua had said.
Given the time, her discoveries could also help Allan for the Whisper's case. Eventually, she would share them with him. But in the meantime, she didn't want to get involved or spread the little she knew. They were only theories, nothing substantial yet that could make the case move forward—nothing about his weaknesses or his whereabouts or a way to counter him and neutralize the curse. Not yet at least.
When the time would come, she would share. But for the time being, she had to focus on herself. It was the first step, but as small as it was, it was still a beginning. Killua had said it himself.
A start was all she needed.
Friday, May 22nd
4:07 A.M.
The trees held life.
Life of his kin, of the warriors who had died centuries ago, protecting their families. Men and women and more, warriors of all genders, all with a single common goal: push away the enemy. Strike. Save those who didn't fight, the tribespeople waiting in the village for the dreaded verdict of the battle.
For they knew that there were only two outcomes: life, or death. Either the warriors won and their village was safe, or they died and all hell would break loose.
He ran a hand on the trunk of a tree, searching for a pulse of aura, of life. Not its own life, but the life of a warrior dying in battle who, in his last selfless move, had transferred his life to the tree, giving future warriors a second chance, a second life when they were fighting the enemy.
He found none.
Centuries later, things had changed.
His kin had found the curse. The amaryllis. The power to fight without sacrificing the young warriors. And the graves of all the warriors had remained in the trees, untouched, still bustling with life force.
The grass hushed as he walked through the forest.
That used to be the tale his mother told him the most when he was a young child hating the amaryllis on his hand. That some trees had a second chance for him. That they were rare, scattered all around the continent, all around the places where their people had fled. Because fleeing was all they could do, the feared life traders playing with God's will, the witches and the wizards crossing the boundaries of life, the rules of religions. Fleeing was all they knew, all they could hold onto to survive, to have a chance for their children to live.
He stopped walking. There, in the middle of the Riverstorm forest, he had found it. He approached the tree with caution. Slowly, he reached for the trunk, ran his hand on the wooden surface. And he focused.
A pulse.
There was a pulse.
An unnatural, very human pulse of aura that his nen picked up.
His face lit up. He had a chance here, a chance to stop killing people. At least for a little while. He had life, here. Within this tiny group of trees that he had searched for during months, he could hold a few weeks, perhaps even a few months if he found more.
He sighed, letting his shoulders relax.
After all this time, he had finally found what he was looking for. Not just a tree, not just a life.
But a tiny flicker of hope.
A/N: Yay, more Whisper angst. I'm so curious to know what you think about the Whisper and his past tbh. I've been dropping hints for a while hehe.
Annnd yeah. I had warned you, there was cheese. Friendship cheese and romance cheese and a little bit of hot cheese too. What did you think about all that? Did you like the chapter? What was your favorite moment?
Also, I wonder what you think about Killua's backstory now. Some of his feelings were based on personal experiences. You'll see more of that later, when he talks about it.
Anyway, please review! I can't wait to hear your thoughts about this chapter.
Next chapter, chapter 25, is called A flower through the cracks and idk, I think you'll both hate and love me. For many reasons. Read the excerpt below for a little preview!
Until then, I'll see you soon! Pray that I finish chapter 26 soon so that I don't have to delay updates. I've been known to be fueled by reviews if that helps :D
Bye and have a nice weekend!
A little bell sound coming from her bag made her open her eyes. He shifted, reaching for her bag to give it to her. "Your phone hates me," he stated as she took it from her bag.
She stared at the message she had just received: 'Where's your boyfriend?'
She grinned.
"What is it? Why are you grinning?"
She looked up from her mother's text. "Killua, are you ready to meet my mom?"
His mouth fell open. "Shit. I had completely forgotten." He fumbled a bit, running a hand through his hair. "Does she know we're… a thing?"
"You mean, does she know we made out like there was no tomorrow? On multiple occasions? Yeah. She does. I finally told her."
He crashed his head on her chest as though he were hiding. "Noooo. Now all I'll think about while talking to her is 'I made out with your daughter and grinded with her' and it's gonna be embarrassing as hell."
She giggled. "Think instead of the things you'll do to me tonight," she said in his ear. "When I slip your hands under my shirt."