A/N: 'Ello there, mates. Anyways, I don't feel like writing an author's note. I just want to thank you all for being patient.

For Mikalya, the anon reviewer who asked me how an aged up Killua looks like…well, if it helps, I can show you a fanart of how I see older Kil and Gon: http(:/(/)oi43(.tinypic).com(/9pxk3l).jpg with no parethenses. I'll put the link in my profile just in case.

38. Bad Boy

Atypical Nen-poisoning was what Wing called it, a rare manifestation that attacked the flowing of Killua's aura.

One knife did the trick. One stab in the shoulder that would appear rather harmless to a person like Killua, was enough to put his life on the line. Design-wise, the knife was nowhere near special, its blade was not overly sharp, and it was not laced with poison as anyone would assume. The knife was conjured, the blade materialized to do its magic with a mere slide against someone's skin. The conjured object was engulfed with poisonous aura severe enough to cause any human to die a slow and painful death. The attacker was a skilled user, capable of creating highly toxic objects and entities however he pleased, force them into the victim's anatomy without their knowledge, and dispel the weapon in an instant. And the poisoning brutal symptoms were only supposed to show up when the victim attempted to use their nen.

Wing, Gon and Killua's master and confidant, gave us his hypothesis through the phone. While poison relies on the circulatory and respiratory system in order to work its magic, Nen poisoning is different; it's very rare and has a glittering track record, which makes it unstable and unpredictable. Dangerous. It would suck leisurely at the person's aura, their life energy, their source of power and strength. Using their nen would only stimulate the effects. It would further activate the poison and lure it to do its work. It would release waves of energy from the body only to leave it whacked and battered.

In Killua's special case, he wasn't just a smart Nen user, but he also had a high endurance rate for pain, which basically disabled the poison to affect his nerve system.

Physically-wise, Killua was fine. Not just Fine as in hot (he was very Fine), but he was Nen-restricted now. Problem was, we did not know how badly his condition was going to get in the future. Since he was an anomaly of nature and immune to almost all types of poison, we had no standard to go by or compare to. We could only wait and see.

I felt miserable. In all the time I had known him, Killua had rarely shown a weakness, human or otherwise, if I didn't count his inability to be serious at times. And now, he wasn't weak, but weakened. I wanted to approach this situation rationally, like I tried to do to all my problems. Rationally, my boyfriend was not okay and of course, I was concerned. But that pretense lasted all of a moment because Killua wasn't my boyfriend, but he was so much more: he was my ally, my rock, my occasional roommate, my protector, my friend. I wasn't concerned; I was devastated.

And funnily enough, all of the above wasn't even the main problem we were having.

The sun was setting in York Shin when Killua shoved the door of the suite open.

"Killua, slow down. Almost breaking the front door isn't going to prove anything."

"I'm fine."

"Will you stop saying that already?" Gon pleaded.

"Don't you have something better to say?" I seconded.

On his way to the kitchen, Killua rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. Peachy. A-OK. Rockin'—Whoa." His eyes widened when they flickered to the broken mess I'd created in the kitchen the night before and he glanced at me with one arched brow. "Someone threw a wild fit."

I forcefully dropped my bag on the floor and exchanged the twentieth frustrated glance with Gon. This scenario had been going on for almost twelve hours now. Every time we'd expressed our worry, he'd tease it away.

"Killua."

"Jeez. I'm fine," Killua repeated stubbornly as he pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and gulped down its contents all in one go. When he saw the looks on Gon's and my face, he shrugged. "What? I'm a little dehydrated."

Standing next to me, Gon shook his head as his composure faltered for a moment. "Killua," he said, very patiently. "Please stop acting idiotically."

There was a dark flash of that intimidating skilful defiance in Killua's eyes before he shut the door of the fridge with unnecessary force. His mouth twitched in determination. "I'm not acting idiotically."

"You're not?" I said incredulously, scoffing. "Hmm, let's see. You ran out of the hospital and had us chase you down to the airport. Like freaking guard dogs. You don't know what it was like to stop people in the airport and say, 'Ohhi, we lost a boy. White hair, black shirt, oh and he's a legal adult.'"

Killua looked surprised for two whole seconds before the well-practiced indifference took over. "I told you that I was leaving the hospital," he said, grabbing another water bottle. "It's your fault that you didn't take me seriously."

Gon crossed his arms, clearly as pissed off as I was. "If you're mad about something," he replied, his voice hovering at the threshold of irritation. "Then let it all out. Don't hold it in. Let's talk and put an end to this."

That flipped Killua's switch. His eyes flashed, a scowl darkening his light-hearted features. "Oh, yeah? Let's," he bit out, building a fury. He threw the bottle carelessly on the island and came toward us, his stride swift and strong. Then his fist wrapped around Gon's collar, hauling him upwards til their faces were scant inches apart. "Let's point fingers. None of this would have happened if you weren't being such a damned fool."

Gon gasped, glaring equally as hard. "M—me? Are you seriously saying this was all my fault?"

"Yes!" Killua roared. His eyes were so dark and intense, it was almost scary. "When you see an attack coming my way, you step aside and let me have it. It's mine to handle, not yours. None of this would have happened if you weren't acting so… so yourself! I would have been able to avoid getting jumped if I hadn't been so busy making sure your ass was out of the way! I don't need a bodyguard! When is this ever going to sink in through that thick skull of yours?"

Hurt confusion crossed Gon's face before it was replaced with aggravation. His voice was also rising. "What was I supposed to do, then? Stand there and watch that man attempt to kill you?"

"I don't know, but I know what you weren't supposed to do, which is get in my way," Killua barked, his grip tightening destructively on Gon's shirt. "You should have left me and run for your life. If that knife had stabbed you, it'd have killed you instantly, you goddamn idiot. Do you have any idea how lucky you are that we're not all standing around your grave right now? Do you?"

Gon's lips thinned. "I'd never leave you to run for my life. Ever."

"That's why you're a damned fool." Killua flung his arm in the air. "I have haters everywhere I go. In every corner. I could throw a rock through the window and hit someone who wants my head. Are you planning to save me from them all?"

Gon lifted his chin. "Yes."

Killua gritted his teeth.

I stepped between the two boys, uselessly pushing at Killua's shoulder. "Killua, please—"

He didn't budge, instead he directed the full force of his glare on me. "Don't interfere. This doesn't concern you."

I stepped back, effectively silenced.

"And then after royally screwing up, you called her," Killua spat, gesturing with his head at me. "On top of everything, you stupidly called her over. Why would you do that? Huh? What did that accomplish? She shouldn't have come. Couldn't you pause and think for a minute that I didn't want her there?"

"I'm standing right here," I muttered wryly. If he'd slapped me in the face, it wouldn't have shocked me more. I knew he didn't mean to hurt me, but he did.

Gon's lips pursed, but he said nothing.

Killua continued his verbal abuse. "You know that she'll be on the rocks if she leaves the country, and you know she's stupid enough to do it. What the hell were you thinking?"

For God's sakes, was I invisible to him or something? Had I suddenly obtained super powers? Or was he purposely avoiding to acknowledge me?

"I wasn't," Gon muttered, looking down. The look of regret he pulled off was so convincing, it almost fooled me. His voice rasped, the only indication of the absolute rage I could see in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was thinking. You're right."

"Yeah, I am," Killua said quietly, letting go of Gon's shirt. "So fucking quit it already."

"I will." Gon swallowed, remarkably hiding his anger away. "Sorry, Killua. You're right about everything you said."

What the hell? My own anger fueled, and I squinted. No, he's not right. He is so not right.

As if he'd read my mind, Gon looked at me then, a soft warning in his eyes, making me immediately curious. And more confused. It seemed like he was begging me to keep quiet.

So I did. Waiting until Killua slammed the door of his room shut behind him, I turned to Gon with a frown. "What was that, Gon? Why did you let him talk to you that way? You know he has no right to blame you for what happened."

Gon sat on the sectional sofa and threw his head back. "The man we traveled to meet up with—the one who had info. about my father—bailed on us. Killua is mad about that. He feels betrayed by the person who sent us to Los Selegna. There's no reasoning with him right now."

"We all get mad, but we don't turn into a self-serving, big-mouthed, empty-headed jerk." I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache gathering strength. "And what's with his lame-assed denial? What, he thinks he can just fool us by saying 'I'm fine' over and over?"

Gon cracked a smile, though I could see it was reluctant. "Don't worry about him. If he could be that nasty, then he's really fine."

"I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Yuki, no." Gon grabbed my wrist. "He's going to be jittery and on edge now. This isn't the first time that someone tried to physically hurt him for revenge, but it is the first time that someone succeeded. He's going to shut himself down emotionally. It's his first instinct, how he copes. He's going to shut us out and wall himself up. This had happened before, and it usually takes a lot of work to get him to let anyone in again. He's pretty much like a wild cat; at his fiercest when he's most vulnerable. You don't want to do that."

I did not know what was going to be worse, placating Killua or restraining him. Everything was falling apart, all of a sudden. Illumi on one side and that vengeful Conjurer on the other side.

"Well." I pried my wrist free. "I have to at least try to knock something into him."

I went to Killua's room. I knocked once and let myself in, shutting the door quietly behind me. My eyes raked the immediate area around me in search for him. His bedroom was so very different from the rest of the suite, which was warm and inviting. This room was sleek, modern, and cool. A massive sleigh bed dominated the space, the frame mahogany leather and the linens a cream white. The rest of the furnishings perfectly matched the bed with their dark wooden colors, making the place look pale and colorless… Cold.

Without his commanding presence anywhere in sight, his room felt too quiet, too empty with no art on the walls to enrich the atmosphere. Everything on the dark walls had been taken down, all besides one large, mythological painting on one wall, of a woman on a rock by the ocean holding a small harp and a man in the water below her who was trying to reach for her. His bedroom said more about him than he ever did.

Awareness hit me when the door of the en-suite bathroom opened and Killua stepped into view. His hair and face were damp as if he had plunged his head under water. His eyes darkened when he saw me by the door, for an instant before his mask slid effortlessly into place, an act so easily accomplished it had become second nature to him.

"What are you doing here?" His face was awfully relaxed, his voice low and calm. Anyone looking from a distance would not pick up on the tension between us, but it was there in his eyes. Burning indifference and icy fury. He was a master at putting those two together.

"Hey." I hurriedly crossed the distance between us, taking the opportunity to drink him in, my gaze sliding all over him to make sure he was still bright and healthy. For now. "How are you feeling?"

"Dandy."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright then." Swinging my arm, I slapped him with enough force to whip his head to the side and cause my palm to throb. Fury boiled up inside me and spewed out. "How could you? How dare you blame Gon for wanting to protect you? You'd rather he ran and left you get killed? You'd rather die than be saved by one of us?" I glared at him through slitted eyes. "Are you kidding me with this?"

Killua's eyes were closed as he turned his head slowly back towards mine. Cracking his neck, he finally looked at me, his face impassive, his eyes hard as sapphires.

"No," he answered curtly. "No, I'm not kidding. And yes, I don't want to be saved. You know why, Yuki?" His lip curled in a sneer. "Because I'm a selfish. I'd rather die and hurt you by my death than spend a minute of my life dealing with the guilt of having you or Gon die in my place. I'd rather die than lose every sense of self-worth by living with the fact that I'm right here, and you're in the damned ground."

My eyes opened wide.

"I don't plan on living with the consequences of anyone's stupid decisions. I want to have my own peace of mind. So yes, I am that selfish."

"So let me get this straight…" My voice sounded calm; I was anything but. His words caused something inside me to crack and rupture. "You're saying that unlike us, you have nothing to live for? No purpose?" I paused. "No one?"

For a moment, I saw regret flicker across his face, but then it was gone, suppressed behind an iron façade. "Of course I didn't mean it that way."

"No, it's okay, Killua. I think you've made your point pretty clear. You're angry and frustrated. It's a bad time to talk to you right now." I turned to storm out, and he said nothing for a few seconds, long enough that I thought he was going to stop me from leaving and take me in his arms and comfort me. "I'll leave you think of what you said right now. You have all the time to do that. Trust me, you need it."

"Gon will get you anything you want," he said from behind me. "If you need anything, ask him. Wait for him. And I prefer that you sleep here instead of your apartment for the time being. Tell Gon that I don't want anyone to get in my room unless I say otherwise."

I twisted to look at him. "Why?"

"I want to be alone. I'm no mood for company." The rigid posture of him and the look in his eyes supported his words and ensured me that he didn't want me in his room. His mask was there, that implacable mask that kept the world a safe distance away. "You have your work. The last two weeks of it. Just… focus on that."

I stepped out of his room.

Cursing, I ran both of my hands through my hair. I was torn between my concern for him, which begged me to stay, and my hard-won self-preservation, which assured me that his coping strategy wasn't one I wanted to deal with right now. The road to recovery for him was paved with taunting detachment and cold logic, and I didn't know how we'd end up passing it.

On Tuesday's evening, I walked my way through the long winding driveways of the Nostrad's extravagant mansion and was surprised to see Gon standing behind the golden iron gates that were patrolled by trained protection dogs. He lounged casually against a tree, wearing baggy dark jeans that showcased his mile-long legs and an oversized v-neck in olive green that emphasized the soft brown in his eyes and his short spiked hair. He easily drew the attention of everyone who passed by him.

Gon could give Killua a run for his money…er, looks. He was more charismatic and boyishly charming, almost pretty compared to Killua's sharp beauty, but both were handsome young men who made the ladies look twice and stare in unsustainable delight.

I flashed my ID card to the security cameras that were cleverly hidden somewhere and the gates opened. As he saw me approaching, Gon turned his smile from the guard dog that was lapping happily at his shoes to my direction, and my mood was instantly lightened.

"Hi!" I greeted him. "How's your day been?"

"Great so far. Yours?"

"Eh, I've had worse. What are you doing here?" I asked him.

His casual shrug was weird. It was too casual. "I thought I could walk you home and you know." Another shrug. "Share my jibber jabber with you."

Gon wanted to share about his jibber jabber with me? Gon picked me up from work because he wanted to share his jibber jabber with me? Gon used the word 'jibber jabber'? Something was not quite right.

"You know what's funny?" Gon tossed a thickly muscled arm around my shoulders, easy enough for him to do because he was taller by five inches. He tugged me out of the Nostrad's estate and into the sidewalk. "You're my bestfriend's girlfriend and I don't know everything about you. You don't even know my last name. We should get to know each other better—now, preferably. What's your favorite color?"

I winced a little. "Are you having a mild ADD moment or something?"

He continued as if he didn't hear me. "Mine is pink. Which is, actually, a very masculine color, if you think about it. It's almost aggressive in a way. It's pretty much a mixture of red and white—"

I slapped his arm away to face him. "What's happening, Gon? Why are you walking me home?"

"I told you—"

"Ap, ap, ap," I ribbed with a finger waving in his face. "No jibber-jabbering crap. I want the ugly truth. Did he send you to make sure I wasn't falling over my own head?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

I tilted my head to the side and gave him a dirty look.

Gon slumped his shoulders with a sigh. "Yes. Yes, he did."

Closing my eyes and clenching my fists, I pulled myself together and fought off the driving urge to race my way to the suite and call Killua a jerk. He was still in his no-talking-to-Yuki zone. God forbid he'd break one of his embargoes to check on me himself. He was unbelievable.

"Whatever." I resumed walking. "Come now. We're going to walk our problems off and we're going forget about anything related to the K-Word."

We talked about my work, laughing over both a doo-wop group that was snappily singing in the middle of the street and some anecdotes about Gon's struggles with his dad's hunting. The time passed swiftly, and it didn't get too long to get to my building. As we passed by the front desk, the doorman greeted me by the surname, and just when I was about to slip inside the building, he asked me to wait. Reaching into the large pocket of his uniform coat, he pulled an envelope of some sort and handed it to me.

"What's this?" Gon asked, turning those wide eyes down at me.

I shrugged my shoulders, equally puzzled.

The doorman responded by looking over our shoulders toward the sidewalk. Turning my head, I followed his line of sight, trying to see whatever it was that he saw. A glossy black-and-chrome motorcycle that probably cost more than most people made in a year was waiting at the curb. I glanced briefly at the sealed envelope in my hand. It had a weight and it rattled. Confused and with a touch of horror, I ripped it open and a key fell into my palm. The key-chain bore the insignia of Gary's company.

Of course. I scoffed. I should've known.

Gon came beside me. "What is it?"

"My uncle bought me a bike."

Gon let out a whistle of awe as he moved over to where the sleek vehicle was parked. He studied it with a critical and curious eye. "That's… swank. Why would he do something like this all of a sudden?"

"Because he's trying to buy me off," I sighed as I swung onto the bike, testing the engine. "He buys me something every time we butt heads with each other. Which is a lot. If it's not a black credit card, then it's a beauty team sent to my apartment. And if it's not a hired doorman—" I lowered my voice "—to spy on me, then it's a ten-billion-zennies donation made in my name to the city's orphanage. He's a man with no limits."

Gary tried so hard to get on my good sides after every argument. Unfortunately, he had a difficult time accepting that I didn't view money the same way he did. I often wished there would be an end to it. I liked to be pampered as much as the next girl, but Gary didn't understand that showing me how much he cared was much simpler than this. Bribing me with my parents' blood money was almost as bad as sending friends over to escort me home.

Gon patted the leather seat of the bike and gave me a genuinely curious look. "Why do you fight a lot?"

"Because he hates my master with passion. There's this never-ending competition between the two of them, but it's wholly from my uncle's part. My master never treated Gary with less than respect or had an unkind word to say about anyone, but even that couldn't stop the antagonism."

"That master must be a good man if you defend him that much."

"He's a great man," I corrected.

Gon smiled. "Maybe your uncle is trying to make up for something through his generosity."

"You mean like making amends?"

"Yes. Who knows."

Who knew indeed. Gary was a mystery man. A mystery that I could not understand but which was so evident to me. I wasn't willing to think about that right now. The last time I dealt with my frustration with him was through high-calories goodies, and regrettably, karaoke.

I could laugh at it now, but the degree of patheticness in my way of dealing with my fights with Gary showed how bad I was at taking smart decisions: I sang this up-beat pop song three times, got kicked out of the restaurant for insisting they let me sing it a fourth time, flirted unabashedly with everyone, and had to be piggy-backed home.

Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, I unstrapped the helmet from behind my seat and turned to Gon. "Feel like having an adrenaline-fueled ride back to your home? I promise it won't be as lousy as the one you just gave me."

Gon raised his eyebrows with a crooked grin. "Oh, really?"

"Oh, yeah. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Is that so?" His mock sternness made me smile. He narrowed his eyes, considering my proposal. Without further argument, he took the helmet from my hands and just stared at it.

"You're supposed to slip it over your head," I teased. "What, you've never ridden a motorcycle before?"

"Not really."

"Wow. What kind of a bad-boy bestfriend are you?" I asked in mock dismay.

Gon's smile was weak as his gaze dropped. "Apparently a bad one, I suppose."

My lips pursed. I shouldn't have said that.

Deciding to forget about the K-Word, even for a little while, was easier said than done. He was just so there. Damn him.

Desperate to cheer him up again, I said, "Tell you what. How about we go back to the suite and I teach you how to make chocolate molten cakes? He would love those."

Gon rushed to put the helmet on to hide his expression from me, but I could still see the grim look in his eyes behind the smoky shield of the helmet. "Aunt Mito used to make me the best homemade macaroni and cheese. It's the ultimate in comfort food. Maybe it'd make him feel better."

"Well, there you go." I forced a smile as I revved the engine. "You can teach me how to make that and I'll show you how to make the dessert. It's nice not having to do things alone, isn't it?"

The words tugged at my heart as I said them. If only chocolate molten cakes could solve all problems. If only it could rid the boys of their terminal self-guilt-trips. I wished I could make Killua see that he didn't have to handle this all alone. He hated being alone with his fucked-up mind, but sometimes so determined to live that way.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right." Gon leaned his hip against the kitchen counter, his lips pursed in a sort of pout as he transferred macaroni to a buttered baking dish. "It may not taste so good."

I smiled at his worry. I reached up and ran the fingers of my clean hand through his hair, thinking of longer white strands that felt like thick silk. "I'm sure he's going to love it."

Gon's mouth twisted wryly. "He knows that cooking is one of my pleasures but it's not one of my talents, so I have room to screw up." He slid a finger through the batter that clung to the mixing bowl in my hands and licked it clean. "Mmm, I think I'm in love with this."

"Ah, Imma tell you a secret. After my Exam, I hit the road and met an aspiring Gourmet Hunter who taught me all these yummy dessert recipes. So I started to take credit vicariously through him, and when people came over I'd be like—" I tossed my hair over my shoulder in mock snobbishness "—'Ohh, I made this perfect Chimney Cake with with sliced almonds as a topping for you, it's an ol' grandma recipe."

Gon laughed. "You're shameless."

"I'm not so proud of it," I replied with a grin, which was soon wiped as Killua suddenly walked into the living room, all dressed up in solid black from head to toe.

Gon bristled right away. "Whoa, whoa. Wait up. Where are you going?"

Killua barely looked at us. "Out."

I glanced at the clock on the microwave. "At eleven-thirty before midnight?"

"I'm not a kid." His tone was sharp and mean. "I don't give a damn what time it is. I have things to take care of."

"We made dinner." My voice was so small compared to his. "We made dinner for you. You're not going anywhere."

Without slowing his pace, Killua stole one glance in my direction, his eyes not lingering long enough to kill me, but it still stung like a bitch. "I have to go. Don't wait up for me."

Gon jumped out of the kitchen, and in a flash, appeared in front of Killua's face, blocking him. "No. You're not doing this."

Killua scowled. "I told you not to get in my way."

"I told you to stop acting like an idiot," Gon shot back, his face hard and exceedingly determined. "You're not going anywhere in your condition. Not until you heal completely. Any business you want to deal with can wait until the poison wears off your system."

"I'm not waiting until then," Killua deadpanned, "I'm going to find that girl who baited me and gave me false information, and I'm going to make her wish she was dead. If you want to come with me and watch, you're more than welcome. I promise it'll be very entertaining." He sidestepped, heading toward the front door of the suite.

Gon rounded on him again. "Let it go, Killua," he warned.

"Step aside, Gon."

"Not a chance, sorry. I'm going to keep you from leaving even if I have to chain you down."

Killua barked out a dry laugh. "Chain me down, huh? A little melodramatic for your tastes, don't you think?"

From over Killua's shoulder, Gon's eyes met mine in silent plea. I stepped out of the kitchen.

"You're hurt. And angry. You're acting out," Gon said calmly. "It's okay to be mad as long as you're mad at the right person, in the right way and in the right time. Otherwise you won't be forgiven."

Killua was hard-faced and distant, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Go back to your room, Killua."

"Are you commanding me?" Killua squared off with his friend. They were almost the same height. But while Killua was leanly built and an inch taller, Gon was bulky; more finely muscled and broad-shouldered in a way that oozed confident determination. In a fight, you'd expect the two of them to be evenly matched, but there was absolutely no competition right now. And that was a problem.

Gon leaned, not backing down. "You're leaving me no choice."

Killua's eyes turned dark. "I am giving you one, which is to step aside, or else watch me help you do so—" His words cut off as I landed a lightning-quick chop to the back of his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath, then stiffened in shock, his eyes clouding over. His vision tunneled to a pinpoint and he lost the battle to stay conscious. I lifted the mixing bowl protectively over my head as Killua slumped backward and sank unwillingly into my waiting outstretched arm.

Gon rushed to support Killua's arm around his shoulders and balance him up. "Thank you," he exhaled. He took Killua back to his room and set him carefully on the bed.

"I know you said fight him with kindness but can we please narrow that to just 'fight him'?" I said when we stepped back into the living room.

Gon sighed. "This is harder than I thought."

I poured us two glasses of icy cold water, sliding one across the island toward him. "He's going to be so pissed off when he wakes up."

"Well. I'd rather have him alive and pissed off than dead and happy."

Gon's words sent a chill down my spine. Leaning my forearms onto the island, I tapped my glass to his in a pitiful display of scorned solidarity. At least we had each other.

The next day, I arrived in the suite early in the morning. Stepping out of the foyer, I took the hallway to the living room, and paused at the threshold.

My gaze riveted to Killua's back as he stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. His reflection in the glass revealed a contemplative mood. His gaze was unfocused and his mouth was grim. His hands, buried deep in his pockets, betrayed an inherent unease. He looked remote and removed, a young man who was inherently and infinitely alone.

It's a part of me that I can never forget… Such dark things don't fade with time… Reverberate through the years…

I have to live with them.

His mind was buzzing so loudly, I could practically hear it from across the room.

Even though I was perfectly preventing my aura from leaking away from my body and standing statue-still and not breathing, he sensed my presence. Or maybe he just felt my yearning. He pivoted; then went very still.

My legs and butt were tingling from the vibrations of my new bike. The rest of me was tingling from the need to be wrapped around him. Tingling or aching. Or both. I swallowed past the knot in my throat. My hands were nearly twitching with the want to touch his. And the way he looked at me…my pulse leaped. I missed him so much. I missed his smile, and his smell, and his eyes, and his arms, and…

Then his face smoothed into the emotionless mask I hated. Abruptly, he turned on his heels and strode out toward his bedroom with only a short, inscrutable glance at me.

Turning on my heels, too, I left the suite.

I finished my day shift and decided to take a walk since it was such a nice day. I walked by a little bookstore and spent a couple hours hanging out there, perusing every book ever written about the Zaoldyecks. Grabbing a big bag full of books, I headed down to the auction building's cafeteria. I pulled up a chair at one of the tables and prepared to flick through one of books. I had nothing better to do since my best source of information didn't want to talk to me, deciding to sulk in his damn room all by himself. This had been the longest week of my life.

I sipped my iced-tea and began reading.

"Hello."

Lifting my head, I found a handsome man with laughing blue eyes and dark red hair standing in front of me, holding a disposable iced-tea cup like the one I'd filled for myself. He didn't look like a guest; his face was young and unlined. My guesstimate of his age was mid-to-late twenties. He was dressed formally in slacks, a neatly pressed button-down shirt and a silver tie. "Hi?" I greeted him, not bothering to hide my wariness.

"How is your day?"

My brow arched. "Swell, whoever you are. Thanks for asking."

The stranger dude chuckled, and the sound was light and charming. "I'm new to the area. My company just relocated," he clarified, and I stared at him, not sure what he wanted me to say to that. "Do you live around here? I know I see you here every morning, but you seem so familiar, I thought maybe I've seen you around somewhere else. Familiar faces are hard to come by, you know?"

I paused, taking a long and slow sip from my cup while I stared at him without blinking. "May I help you with something?"

"Yes, certainly you may," he said, with a note of mischief. "I don't usually do this, but would you be interested in getting a drink with me tonight? I know this great new bar."

I was about to reply with the classic, Nah, I'm good, when a hand settled on my shoulder and squeezed firmly.

"She's taken."

Twisting at the waist, I was faced with Jei. He looked like he stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. He was wearing what looked like a million-zenni, black suit and a green tie that made his eyes even more noticeable, if that was possible. His longish hair was perfectly coifed and not as manhandled; tied back in a short ponytail. He looked different but still the same.

He rounded the table and settled on the chair beside me, his relentless gaze never leaving the man.

Across from me, the stranger man's eyes lost their softness. "Of course. Excuse me," he muttered, and left stealthily, just like the way he had come.

"Look at you, Fancy Little JJ," I teased, appraising his make-over. "Being all protective of me and acting like a good wingman. Is this one of the bro rules? Never put the toilet seat down? And your sexual conquest is my sexual conquest?"

"Pretty much." Jei shrugged and freed the button of his suit jacket. "What's new?"

"Everything." I sighed. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a while."

Jei shrugged again. "Business trip. Nostrad and I were in China."

"The country?"

"No, the big pile of dishes in my mother's breakroom."

"Funny."

"I know. Anyway." Jei's brows twitched upwards in that sarcastically sardonic way of his. "How's Killua dealing with the very unfortunate circumstance that had tragically befallen him?"

I winced at the blunt question. Of course he knew about that. Jei knew about everything, and it was a little hard sometimes to pretend that it wasn't downright creepy. "Fantastically."

"Still being Mr. Moody McBroodster?"

"Yup. And killing it."

"Ah." That brought a touch of amusement to Jei's otherwise severe face. "Hell hath no fury like a Zaoldyeck scorned."

I scoffed.

"My work here is done." He stood, smoothing out his jacket. "Don't worry about Killua's condition. You know the saying: 'Time works wonders.' Everything's coming back eventually. With a vengeance." He waved goodbye at me from over his shoulder. "I'll grace you with my presence later. Stay swell."

Two days passed in a flurry of activity. And with an odd surreality. I made it to work, spent most of my prelunch time with Gon, and went through my evenings in a kind of a chilly fog.

I couldn't shake a feeling of dread.

Killua made no contact with me whatsoever. No call, no text. Not a single word. His silence was excruciating. I had done as he asked and left him alone in his self-imposed prison of a mind, practically the furthest he could be from me. It was best to do as he said just to avoid dealing with his nastiness.

In the afternoon, I texted Gon to see what he was doing and got a message that he had some business to do regarding his father. I was on my own for dinner. I stopped at a franchised sandwich restaurant near the Nostrad's mansion, feelings deserving of their largest meal and some chips and a cookie. Since I was lonely and had been moping around, I was splurging on myself tonight. When I came out, with my dinner in hand, I was slammed into the redheaded creep from two days ago.

"Miss Kudo!" the man exclaimed in surprise. "Hello. You okay? I bumped you pretty hard."

"Uhh… Fine."

"Do you work around here, too? I'm not trying to stalk you or anything," he added quickly when my face must have given away my concern. "By the way, you're still looking fantastic."

I looked down at my plain white T-shirt, and knew his compliment was a fib. "And you're still dipping into the kiddy pool."

"Ah, a silver-tongued lady, I like it. I also like those little leather shorts. Very pretty on you." He grinned and followed me down the sidewalk. "Going somewhere?"

I used my head to point in the direction I was headed.

Eying the bag in my hand, he taunted, "Looks like you have an exciting dinner ahead of you."

"Yep."

"With your boyfriend?"

"Nop." I started walking faster, but he was hot on my heels.

"Your boyfriend can't take his girl out on a Friday night?"

Damn it. I didn't know what his deal was or why it was so hard for him to take a hint. He probably thought I was lying about my boyfriend. I had a boyfriend. I had a boyfriend, who had very strong opinions about guys who hit on me and invaded my personal space.

"I hope that boyfriend of yours treats you right." He slowly walked backwards, so he could still see me. "Otherwise, I'd feel the need to steal you away."

A chill ran up my spine. The man was jumping right on the creepy train. I went straight to my bike and climbed on it.

He handed me the helmet and asked, "What is it going to take to get you to have a drink with me?"

"A miracle."

"Come on, don't play hard to get."

"Oh, I'm not playing. I am hard to get." I pushed the helmet onto my head.

"And I thirst for challenges." He flashed me that charmingly pseudo-innocent smile. "Good night, Miss Kudo. Maybe we'll run into each other again."

I put the bike into gear and accelerated away from the curb.

I entered the Grandview Hotel's reception area late in the evening and was resigned to find a bored-looking Killua sitting so casually on one table, looking nothing like a poisoned person expecting an excruciating pain in the next few days.

My step faltered when I spotted the voluptuous hotel receptionist on the arm of the chair next to him. She was smiling from ear to ear at something he had said; her sloe eyes were bright and aloft. When she set her acrylic-tipped fingers on his knee and laughed, the sound scraped over my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

What the hell?

My first thought was that I shouldn't be so surprised. I knew she'd got a thing for him. Why wouldn't she, he'd got that dark, bad-boy vibe that girls couldn't resist. My second thought was wonderment that he hadn't taken advantage of her crush in a way. That wasn't very bad-boy like of him.

Or maybe he had taken advantage, but she just wanted more. That was much more bad-boy like.

I pushed the unpleasant thought aside.

Sucking in an encouraging breath of chilled air, I approached their table, meeting the receptionist's gaze when it lifted to mine. "Leave," I ordered.

"Excuse me?"

"Beat it. Take a hike. Get out of my sight."

The lovely brunette bristled, raising her perfectly plucked eyebrows at me. "Hey, what the fu—"

"It's okay," Killua said in his obnoxiously calm voice. "Leave us alone."

She searched his face for something. Then with a jerky nod, she shot me a look of pure unadulterated malice and returned to her desk.

And I was supposed to see her every day. Terrific.

"If you want to give me a pep talk on how I'm supposed to be resting," Killua said as I settled on the vacated chair next to him, "then I have two things to say to that. A, Gon beat you to it and B, I am resting." He held up the tea cup in his hand in a mock toast.

"Really?" I snapped, staring up into his face. "Is that what you call resting? Talking to your little friend? Pretending you enjoy her company?"

He lifted his cup to his mouth. "I wasn't talking to her, beastie. She was talking to me. Sometimes, pretending is necessary to get a job done."

"I don't care what that means. She clearly wants you."

He shrugged. "She's had me."

I straightened so fast, my leg hit the foot of the table and almost knocked the tea-saucer onto the floor. "You were with her that time you disappeared after midnight?"

"No, damn it." His brows furrowed at the accusation. "It was not recently. And not seriously," he clarified, "I had an itch for certain information that she offered and I scratched it. End of story."

"Is she the same girl who gave you false information?"

"No, that one is different."

Relief filled me so quickly I got dizzy and deflated into my seat. It didn't last for so long, though. My gaze shifted discreetly to the crescent-shaped desk where the striking receptionist was waving goodbye to a very charmed hotel guest as he tossed a farewell smile in her direction, and the burn in my belly was so potent that I couldn't ignore it. Even if there was no overt interest shown from Killua's side, I was mad that a great deal of his…attention had been once given for another girl and insecure of the receptionist's genre of beauty that was so far and away from my own. And then there was that especially niggling feeling, closer to my heart than my gut: while I'd been missing him, he'd let her talk to him while he'd been refusing to talk to me.

Disappointment pierced me like a blade. It blew the lid of my already volatile mood. An insidious doubt drifted through my mind, making a vulnerable spot inside me fold in on itself.

"I'm going to my apartment." I pushed back from the table, fighting the nausea that rose in my throat. "Have a good night, Killua. And go to hell."

"No. Wait." Killua pushed to his feet with me. "You're jealous. Talk to me."

I turned away. "I don't want to talk to you. Ironic, huh?"

I snatched my hand out of his and raced the distance to the hotel's entrance, desperate to get away before he saw me breaking. Adrenaline was already coursing through my veins from the motorcycle ride, and my anger intensified it. There was a moment of terrible silence before I heard the brisk steps of Killua's boots behind me.

"Yuki, wait."

"Get lost. I can show myself out."

"I'm not done—"

"Well I am!" I pivoted to face him again. "You don't get to talk to me that way. You think you can treat me that way just because you're in a shitty mood? Who do you think you are? Gon and I have done nothing but tolerate you this week. We've tried everything to make you feel better, but you're too damn self-absorbed to appreciate it. You think I have nothing to do but sit around and wait for you to agree to glance at me? That I'll be waiting around for you to throw me a scrap or a bone or some pathetic acknowledgement of my existence? That no matter how hard you push me, I'll keep trying to push back in a pitiful effort to get you to listen to me?"

He was absolutely infuriating. I wanted to punch him. Punch him and then kiss him, in that order. Why did I still want to kiss him?

Killua stilled, his breath left him in a rush. Something in my voice made him go from raging mad to remorseful in a split second. "You're right," he said sincerely, "I shouldn't have told you about that. I wasn't thinking. I had no verbal filter. I meant to make it sound like, she's had me, the chase is over."

I sighed, understanding, but I was too mad. I was too mad to feel anything but annoyed. "Let go off me, Killua. I'm not your biggest fan right now." I walked away and spoke to him from over my shoulder. "Forget about me all over again and go back to your tea party with your little friend. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to be around you right now. I know I won't."

I had scarcely passed the lobby of the hotel when I was spun one-hundred-and-eighty degrees around. Abruptly, he caught me by the wrist. My breath hitched inside my chest.

"Please," he whispered.

One word.

"Turn around."

I took a deep breath, once, twice, then I turned around. "I'm so pissed at you right now."

"I know." He took a careful step towards me. "I know."

The feel of his warm, strong hand around my wrist was too much. He was so close, if I puckered my lips just right, they'd graze his jaw. I could hear his breathing. I could feel the heat of his anger pouring from his body. Imprisoned by his tight grip, I could hardly breathe. My head spun and my resistance began to dwindle almost against my will. With an audible exhale and with a need I was helpless against, I let my head fall to his shoulder. It was instinct. Relief. And desire. My body had got a mind of its own apparently, and he was both the tormentor and the tamer.

"I'm tired."

"Shh." He cupped the back of my head with one hand and pressed his cheek against my temple. "I need to get you alone. Please. Let me talk to you," he exhaled. "I'm sorry for keeping you away from me."

"You had one hell of a reason," I shot back with a renewed bite of bitterness. "Who knows. Maybe you wanted to save up some energy in case your booty call decided to call you in the middle of the night."

"You're quite the energy sucker." Killua sighed, a smile starting at his lips. "Come now, I'll explain everything to you."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Yes, you are."

"Like hell I am—"

"Do you wanna be difficult on purpose, beastie, or do you wanna fix this off?" he reasoned and I slightly started to relax.

"I'm still mad at you."

"I know. You can be mad at me as we talk about this." He laced his fingers tightly through mine and led me through the crowd back inside. By the time we reached the reception area, I risked a quick glance at the receptionist who bristled at our return, her face a mix of curious and condescending as she scrutinized me.

Killua walked briskly and I hurried to keep up. We rounded the bank of elevators, and he led me to an empty, darkish hallway where no one seemed to pass by at this hour of the night. He seemed to know this particular spot by heart… Or maybe by experience.

Irritation burned through me once again, more insistent, more powerful.

Some people cry when jealous; others get downright vindictive. I, being an atypical sort of person, became slightly homicidal.

Waiting until Killua and I were completely alone, I wrenched my hand free and I rounded on him. Catching him off guard, I put my hands on his chest and shoved him against the opposite wall with a soft thud.

My hands fisted his v-neck collar. "You let her put her hand on you like that..."

Out of all the responses he could have hit me with, the only one I got was his self-satisfied, salacious smirk.

My teeth gritted. I lifted up my hand to slap him—because by God, there was no one on the planet right now that needed to be slapped as much as he did. But as I went to swat at his face, he wrapped fingers like steel bands around my wrist. I grunted, then tried to hit him with the other hand, but he grabbed that one, too.

He made a tsk-ing sound. "Wrong parts of my body to put your hands on, beastie," he seethed, looking down at me. "Wanna mark your territory? Do it right."

I narrowed my eyes.

Releasing my wrists in one swift motion, he lifted me by the waist, hitching one arm beneath my rear to urge my legs to wrap around his waist. When he carried me over to the entryway table of the hallway and swept his free hand urgently across the surface to clear an empty seating spot for me, I couldn't react with more than a feeble protest. His arm dropped me onto the table and I landed on my butt.

Stepping between my parted knees, he hugged me around the hips. Chills broke out down my spine when his hands skated over my ribs and around towards my back in soothing caresses. Even though he could not use his aura, the touch of his fingers was like pure electricity.

I stepped back and raised my eyebrow at him.

"Just so you don't run away before I'm done," he explained.

"Ugh." Frustrated, my cheeks flaming, I covered my face with my hands.

He was right. He was right about all of it. And I did want him to make me feel better, in a way that made no sense. He filled an emptiness that had always been a gaping chasm inside me. It was like he created it, but at the same time, he was the only one who could fill it, too.

"Look at me."

"No."

He kissed my hands, which were still covering my face. "I won't ask again. Look at me, beastie."

I stilled at the familiar commanding tone. I removed my hands, but kept my head bowed and stared at his black T-shirt.

Bending forward, he set his palms flat over the table, caging me with both arms. His gaze was soft and warm on my flushed face. "When are you going to stop running from me and listen?"

"I'm tired," I confessed. "I'm exhausted from fighting with myself over you. Going through these crazy highs and lows… Making excuses for you while you do nothing but push me away."

"I never wanted to do that."

"But you could. You wouldn't talk to me… you wouldn't listen…"

"I couldn't." His exhale was heavy with dismay. "I just… It had to be this way."

"Nothing has to be like anything."

"This had. I knew I was going to be pissy and irritable all week. The longer you stayed with me, the more risk there is of you hating me. I told you there are parts of myself you don't want to see."

"You shut me out. It hurt."

"I know. I'm sorry. But I was hurting, too."

"How could I, when you didn't want me to see?" I looked at him. "You choose to show me certain parts of you. And when the other hidden parts show themselves, you cover it all up, shut down and then you do something stupid. Like squaring off with your bestfriend and telling your girlfriend about your wild sexual escapades." When he didn't answer, I went on quickly, "We can't go anywhere if you never talk to me. I can't deal with being shut out. If you don't open up, not just to me, but to anyone, then—"

"I don't know how to open up," he interrupted, his eyes closing. "I want to learn how. I do, but I can't help but feel that if I let you in too much, you're going to bolt. When things get too intense, you bail. Your first response is to run away." His blank eyes opened blearily. "And right now, there's nothing about my life that is not overwhelming."

My arms crossed as I leaned my head back against the window behind me. I didn't argue with him on that one. "That's not an excuse. I don't want to be just like anybody else, only allowed to see what you choose for me to see. I need to know what I'm dealing with. I need to be able to understand you so I know how to excuse you."

With a sigh, he straightened. His gaze shifted sideways and away, his profile rigid.

Silence surrounded us for the next minute or so. A fat drop of rain hit the window, followed by another.

Killua's chest lifted and fell on a deep exhale. "I had a brother."

I tried to not tense up and reveal my surprise. Or my agitated excitement and desperate hunger to learn more about his family.

"He was good, pure. Kind," he said softly. "Everyone liked him, liked being around him. He was so brave, so strong he raised himself all alone. Without any help. He was loved by everyone. Everyone except my family. They thought he was a bad seed, that he was turning me into the opposite of what I was supposed to be. I wanted to get him out of their world, and let him grow up in a place where he was wanted and loved. Give him the life he deserved. I tried, but I couldn't."

I looked at him, studying his stony profile, but I didn't move or say anything, afraid to lose the moment.

My heart ached at the picture he painted of the children he and his brother once been—scared and hurting and feeling like outsiders in their own house. Forced to live a life they didn't like, enjoy or want.

"He was only ten when he died. He was so little, so unready. A ten year old isn't supposed to know about sacrifice. Most kids fear death and even scare easily at the sight of anything ghoulish. But not Alluka. He didn't mind throwing himself at his own death when he thought that my life was threatened. That's how he died. Trying to save me."

He looked out the rain-soaked window, breathing heavily. "I was the one who found his body. That moment changed my life forever. I was also so young, but that memory was so deeply embedded in my brain that I could never forget it. I was so angry. At everyone. I bolted up, walled myself in my own mind. Big Brother believed grieving was for the weak, and so shutting down became my default switch. After a year, I got worse. That house made my skin crawl… made me sick of everything. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I ran away."

His lips parted on a sigh, as if the more he let out, the lighter he felt. The concealed memory must have been weighing him down all these years.

"I thought a part of me died with Alluka," he whispered. "I thought I'd never be alright. I had nowhere to go, nothing to look forward to, until Gon came into my life. He showed me how to be myself, and in a way, he taught me how to live. He became the brother that I lost. I couldn't give Alluka what he needed, but I could try to help Gon."

There was something about the sound of his sigh that made my body lean forward and ruined my intention to be quiet. I slung my legs around him and leaned my cheek against his heart, surprised to hear the violent beating. He made no sound and shed no tears, but his heartbeat and the relentless tapping of the rain against the glass spoke for him, hard and angry. "That's why you don't usually come to these things. It hurts to think about him."

"I'd do anything not to feel that way again." His voice was hoarse with emotion. "I can't allow anyone to do like Alluka. The idea of someone I care about dying for me, suffering because of me… Of having to go through that horrible guilt all over again… It takes me to a dark place," he said quietly. "I'm not strong enough to deal with it again."

"Hey." I rubbed the quivering muscles of his back. This was another scar to add to his collection, another memory he'd always have in the back of his mind.

"Your brother wouldn't have done what he did if he didn't know, with absolute certainty, that you were worth protecting," I said. "He only thought of you. Only how much he loved you. I think he wanted you to have someone in your life who loved you like he did, and look, you do. You have people who care about you as much as he did, if not more. He knew you'd be that strong. That you'd grow up to be the person you wanted to be."

He was shocked into stillness for a few moments, before he wrapped his arms around me, tucking my entire frame under his chin. His grip on me was excruciatingly tight, but I didn't complain.

"Of course," I murmured, "if only he could see what an annoying hellion you'd become…" His silent laugh buoyed me. I listened as his raging heartbeat slowed and his breathing returned to normal. For long moments, I just held on for a little while, so grateful that he was in my arms again and that we were together. After the long awful week, nothing else was important.

I straightened so I could see his face. His gaze softened, but remained haunted whatsoever.

He ran his fingers through my side bangs. "Don't leave me."

"You're stuck with me, tart. Get used to it."

The tension in his posture visibly eased. "I loved Alluka. He's the only one I ever loved, and he left me."

"You have it all backwards. I only have to leave if you refuse to let me in. Nothing bad is going to happen if you let people in. I mean, look, you told me something personal and nothing exploded."

Almost as soon as the words left my mouth, there was a loud boom in the air—a lightning bolt flashed through the sky, followed by an earth-shattering thunder. Killua looked at me with wide eyes.

I laughed. "Okay, that was unfortunate."

"Stop laughing."

"Sorry. C'mere." My arms stretched out until he towered over me again. Cupping his jaw in my hands, I tilted his head down. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

He snorted. "Likewise."

"I'm sorry I almost slapped you."

"You did slap me."

"Oh. I'm kind of not sorry for that one though."

"I kind of deserved that." He yanked at my arms, making me slide off onto my feet.

We made our way back outside the small hallway with my hand in his. I was uncomfortably aware of the receptionist's scrutiny as we stood waiting in front of the bank of elevators. I stared ahead, but I could feel her eyes on me despite the considerable distance between us and her desk. The knot I'd had in my gut earlier returned, tighter than before. I hated her irrationally and I hated it. I was never the type that held onto a feeling, so that was making me twitchy.

Killua stabbed the call button and glanced at me. Then, as if sensing my moodiness, he moved to stand behind me and pressed his chest against my back. His fingers linked with mine, holding my hands up by my shoulders. He rested his chin atop the crown of my head. "Don't think about her," he said, a smile lending a lilt to his voice. "And if you do, just remember that while she was standing between the wall and her desk, I was standing right between your—"

"Shhhh!" I admonished, flushing.

His laugh drew the attention people in sight, and I couldn't hold back a smile at hearing the rare sound. "Arms, Yuki. I was going to say your arms. Get your mind out of the gutter."

A young couple appeared next to us, and moved over to stand in front of the car we were waiting for. Releasing one of my hands, Killua flicked his fingers at them in rude dismissal. Mystified and without a word, they complied and moved to another elevator. The man stood next to the woman he must have loved, his hand moving to the small of her back to steady her as she leaned into him with a laugh. They looked so happy.

A ding alerted that our car was stopping on our floor. When the doors opened, I took a step forward and my brows rose when Killua didn't follow after me. "Give me ten minutes. I have something to take care of. Won't take too long."

I nodded, too emotionally twitchy to argue about anything anymore. I backed away into the elevator, holding his hand until distance pulled our fingers apart. "Don't be late. I missed you."

"I missed you, too." He smiled and shoved his hands casually into his pants pockets. "I'll show you how much when I'm back. Wait for me in my room."

I smiled and watched him wink as the elevator doors closed.

Pressing the number fifty button, I scooted to the back and leaned against the wall. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, the elevator dinged, and a man slipped in. He managed to not touch the sensors on the doors and they shut behind him. I was about to apologize for not paying attention and holding the doors for him when I noticed who it was.

The redheaded, stalking creep from today's afternoon.

I immediately tensed.

"Miss Kudo." He nodded his head at me in greeting. "We've met twice a day. What a coincidence."

There was never anything coincidental about any of our 'meetings.' The hair on my nape prickled. I moved as far away from him as I could in the small space, my muscles tensing in preparation.

"Oh, my god, seriously?" I glared at him, my face a mask of righteous fury. "Listen to me carefully and let's be clear about something," I said, a threat ringing in my voice, "if you try to follow me again, you'll do so without the benefits of your legs."

"Is that so?" The man's mouth twitched with shameless amusement, not even trying to deny that he was stalking me. "You gonna cut my legs? Or maybe ask your boyfriend to do it for you?"

"No, I'll do it myself. He likes to go straight for the head."

The man laughed. "Is that how he got through yours?"

That made me scowl. "What do you want?"

He took a step toward me, one that was meant to be intimidating. And it was, I wouldn't lie.

I took one step back.

"You."

Crossing my arms, I looked up at the decorative needle above the elevator doors that marked the passing floors. I wanted to get out of here right now. "Maybe I'm just not interested."

"You will be before you walk out of this elevator."

"Nope. Don't think so." After dealing with Killua, the last thing I needed was another domineering guy trying to get through me. "I'm not in the mood for you now."

His eyebrows twitched over his laughing eyes. "You're not? Strange," he said quietly, too quietly, like he was in shock of something. "I thought your boyfriend managed to put you in the mood. Which is rather impressive, I gotta admit, since he's supposed to be writhing in his death throes just the way I wanted him to." His words and the steel casualness in his tone made my chest tight.

I blinked.

And blinked.

When the meaning behind his words sank in, the bottom of my stomach quivered madly.

Holy shit, he's the vengeful man after Killua! Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!

I suddenly felt jumbled and off my game. My pulse pounded in my ears and my head spun with the desire to tear into this man… while a bruised spot in my chest no longer viewed him as an enemy. When the laughing veil slipped, hurt and revenge was in his eyes. I recognized it because I fought the urge for a lot of years. And I lost for the most part when I found less…violent ways to exact it. This man had got no stake in this, only his hunger for vengeance.

I was vibrating with anticipation despite my efforts to stay calm and composed through this situation that I never thought I'd find myself in. My thoughts raced through ways to get out of this.

"Alright, Miss Kudo." He faced me, giving me every bit of his attention. Then he said the scariest four words in the history of language: "We need to talk."

A/N: I'm gonna stop here, but you can tell Beastie is going to have a big problem to deal with.

Yes, I killed poor, lil' Alluka, but I kind of like my interpretation of him. Alluka is a boy in this story because the story was planned long before the character was introduced in the story, but Alluka is a girl in canon. Don' worry, there will definitely be more details about his death in the next chapters. If you have any theories regarding that, however, it'd be fun to hear them.