A/N: The scene last chapter with Yaoyorozu was primarily started because ReflectiveReader, again, asked me some good questions about the reasoning behind the sludge-making. They've had a lot of good discussions with me about this story and premises, so a lot of things you see here are, again, due to their good suggestions and discussions. :)

Also. Thank you again, DivineWhiskey and YourHomeGirlJen, for telling me about Viligilantes. Because that was absolutely excellent. I can't recommend it enough; it seriously was like a reading high. A lot of background from that story will probably now be incorporated into here.

Remember, any critical feedback is much appreciated! I really love getting real feedback on my writing, especially now more than ever, when this story is reaching a size of "holy shit there are 50k+ words" and I haven't often been at this point. I'm not daunted by a bit of honesty, so don't be afraid to phrase your words how you think.

Guest responses:

Knee: Aha, now I get you. And yeah, haha, now I can see that happening too, especially since Gon is just so straightforward about his emotions... and Bakugo is probably out for vengeance. I'm also happy you liked that mission interlude. Though Killua seems to only really be not-rude to friends anyway. :) And seriously, no worries, in my mind, the longer the comment, the better.

Repeat Guest: Thanks for adding a name! I'm pretty sure I know who you are now. Killua being in the midst of the HxH story is an idea I also like, because it offers more opportunities for character development and because his inner conflict is still very real at this point (I imagine it is later, but I think Killua comes more to terms with himself). About the hatsu, experimentation is fun, so I've been thinking about it more since your review! Let me know if you have any suggests; could be cool. Again, thanks for the kind words. :)

Chapter Sixteen

Killua glanced curiously around at the Mufutasu mall.

It was packed with people. Kids screamed in the distance, excited at whatever new toy they saw, their screeching voices piercing through the persistent layer of chatter that blanketed the mall. The place itself was huge, extending up seven floors, a huge yawning gap in the center. It was fenced by glass panels and crisscrossed by several moving black staircases. Killua was waiting at the nearest entrance to the train station, hoping he'd catch sight of Sencha from here. Even from the ground floor, there were still two floors underneath him.

It was unlike anything he'd seen before. Everything in his world – the parts of it he had seen, anyway – was much more suave, dangerous, or colorful. Somehow, despite the bombastic signage, this place struck him as much more… ordinary.

People walked, talked, chatted with their families, idle smiles on their faces. Groups of teens crowded around by the bannister, and by the maps, hanging around and talking in awkward circles. Children pressed their faces against the glass, looking down at the two floors below and pointed out a mall train excitedly to their parents.

It again filled Killua with a strange feeling. So normal. Again, it was unlike anything he had seen before.

"Killua!"

He turned. It was Sencha, grinning and waving from the entrance, her short height almost hidden amidst the many walking adults around her.

"Hey," he waved lazily back, and began walking towards her. When they met in the middle of the field of adults and children and teens, she looked about him, as if looking for someone. When she didn't find anyone, she met his face with a frown.

"No one came with you?" she asked.

"Nah," Killua said. "I wanted to come alone, and it wasn't a big deal." Bakugo's mom had raised a similar concern, earlier, but he had easily shrugged it off.

"Ah, I see…" she said, then brightened. "Well, I'm glad you're here! I was worried about you, you know."

Killua rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You were already acting like a worrywart over the phone. I told you, I can take care of myself."

"Hmm." She cast him a skeptical look, then asked, "What's with that mask, anyway? Are you making a new fashion statement with it?" Her face took on a sly look. "Or disguising yourself with it, from the big bad media?"

Killua scowled. "No," he said. He found himself shifting the mask on his face again; it was a bad habit. "I need it so I don't get sick."

Her head cocked to the side, and he explained what Recovery Girl had told him, immunity, food, and all. Her face then took a more sombre cast.

"I… see," she said. "So you leaving was for the better after all, huh…"

Killua looked up at her sharply. She noticed the look, but her expression didn't change.

"I guess if you hadn't gone with Bakugo, you might not have gone to that UA doctor, right?" she said. "If you had stayed with us, you would've gotten sick and we wouldn't have known what to do at all."

Killua looked down. So if he hadn't gone to UA, he really might be dead already? "I guess," he muttered. The thought unsettled him.

"Well, that's enough of these dreary thoughts," Sencha said, smiling at him. She looked around, eyes latching onto that yawning gap in the center, onto those escalators crisscrossing through the air. "I know a good place to sit here. We can talk more there, yeah?"

"Yeah," Killua said, following her gaze.

She led him up the escalators, going all the way up to the seventh floor. She then took him into a small bakery, where there were a couple of closed seats in the back, hugging the curve of the wall. This cafe was apparently an order-at-the-counter style, so they were able to sit down unimpeded.

"My favorite bakery is the one down in the train station," she explained, when they had sat down. "But this one is good too, and a little more central to the rest of the town. I thought here'd be a good way to start showing you around." She looked critically at Killua's backpack. "Did you bring any food with you in there?"

Killua nodded, and she grinned. "Good boy. Guess you really can take care of yourself. I'll go grab my own food, then." She stood from her chair, waited just a pause for him to give an acknowledging nod, then headed for the rack of baked goods opposite to the ordering counter.

Killua sat there, waiting for a bit, letting the cozy air of the cafe settle over him. He was a bit embarrassed by "good boy". Was this one of her nicknames for him, like stray kitten? Sencha was strange. Or maybe it was just Japan in general?

She was taking a while to come back. His eyes flitted over to her again, and saw that she was carefully ladening a tray with a variety of baked goods. His keen eyes, able to see the pastries in vivid detail from halfway across the cafe, told him that they looked delicious. His mouth watered. He had to remind himself that he shouldn't, couldn't, eat them.

Instead, after a moment, with a sigh, he began unzipping his own backpack, drawing out the box of the most recent batch of sludge-cubes that Yaoyorozu made him. He settled it on the table. And waited. And waited. He yawned.

At last, Sencha returned to the table, her tray piled sky high.

"You're looking comfortable," she said, amused.

Killua blinked slowly.

"Yeah," he said, yawning again. His eyes landed on the food, then drifted away again. "I haven't had the best luck the past couple of days."

Sencha grimaced. "Tell me about it."

For a second, Killua thought she was telling him to literally tell her about it, before he realized she was just grousing with him.

"This place…" Killua said, looking about him. The bakery cafe was largely empty, only two other small groups sitting quietly and sipping from mugs several tables away from the two of them. Yet the perpetual chatter and clinks of noise from the mall spilled into the room, filling the room with a sense of movement, of background life. "It's so normal."

"Oh?" Sencha looked at him keenly. She took a sip of the drink she had ordered, steaming hot. "Remind you of home?" she asked.

Killua shook his head. It was the opposite.

"No," he said. "If anything…" he hesitated. "It reminds me of my friend's home. Gon's." He felt the need to elaborate. "They're very different, but they both have a... comfortable feeling to them."

Sencha Kirko watched him for a moment.

"What was his home like?" she asked.

Killua smiled. "Great. It's small, but surrounded by a forest. The house is built into an old oak tree, way out of the ways, even though they run a bar. We had to walk all night to get there, after taking the ship to Whale Island…" He thought of Gon's aunt, Mito-san. He thought of how they had stood by the campfire, on the cliff's edge, talking into the night. How Gon and him had decided that they would travel the world together, see the many sights, while Killua tagged along while Gon tried to find his father. How Gon had so adamantly said he liked being with Killua.

And now it was all gone.

"Ah, you okay? You've been silent for a while..." Killua looked up. Sencha's eyes were filled with a stranger's concern.

"Sencha," Killua said, face flat, a heavy feeling weighing him inside. "I'm not going to be able to go back, am I?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Huh? Why not?"

Despite his earlier determination, to not think of villainy, to only have a good time in these few hours, he felt another feeling being dragged out of him. A depressing ring of truth hung in his words.

"I'm going in circles," he said. "Taking desperate chances, not knowing what to do with myself." His hand tightened around itself, forming a fist. "I know that… in the long run, in three months time… the heroes won't want to help me anymore. My only friend is in another world. I'm not strong enough to beat that woman, who sent me into this world. I don't even know where she is." He grimaced, mingled frustration and pain rising within him. "Or where to look in this damnably big world with too many rules. I don't have any good or reliable sources of info. And the 'three month limit' is probably a juke anyway." His nails bit into the palm of his hand, drawing beads of blood in their sharpness.

Sencha, whose eyes were still wide throughout the rant, made a noticeable effort to calm herself down. To be a steady presence.

"Look, Killua," she said, voice serious, "You can't just give up hope yet. There's still time." She hesitated, bit her lip, then said, "And trust me, the heroes won't just give up on you. This is their job, if they -"

"Yeah, I know all that," Killua cut in. He looked away, feeling depressed despite her efforts. "That doesn't change the situation - "

His voice cut off, his eyes widening. The mall chatter had ceased, changing into tentative scattered whispers. He tensed, half-standing from his seat, but his mind, distracted and depressed, was sluggish to respond.

There was a shout, then an explosion. The calm of the mall, and the cafe, ruptured. Maniacal yelling streamed in from the cafe entrance, and as one, the cafe's denizens leaped to their feet.

"What is that?" Killua asked urgently, ears ringing, finally shocked into action.

"I don't know!" Sencha yelled. "A villain attack?"

Killua didn't wait to find out. He ran out the cafe entrance, back into the blistering light, only to find the utter normalcy of the mall transformed.

It was on fire. Light, smoke, everywhere. In the center, waiting on one of those escalators, now frozen into stillness, a larger shark-faced man stood, waving a young teenager in one hand.

No. Shit. Why is something happening now?

Killua's eyes snapped to a different direction. On the left, a young girl, a child, with black locks for hair, stood on the next floor down with her face pressed against the bannister window, staring up at the shark-man. Killua's eyes widened.

A-Alluka?

No, that was ridicuous.

"Wait," Sencha said from behind, panting, catching up to him. She coughed, smoke catching in her throat. "The h-heroes will –"

"No," Killua said. He hadn't detected any bloodlust, or any alarm before this had happened. No one would come in time unless they had been on the scene, like Killua. He swallowed, mouth dry. "They won't."

His eyes flitted from Sencha, to that little girl whose face was pressed to the bannister glass. No one stood behind her, the crowd panicking and swarming away from the little girl. He looked back at the villain, who was laughing, a maddened glint in his eye, the teenager wrapped in his hand limp and head rolling.

He wasn't the one causing the fire, however. There was someone else behind him, on the now-still escalator, spilling blue fire around the mall.

"Come out, come out, heroes," the second man said, a wild grin on his face, his eyes so wide and pupil so dilated that his iris was only a pinprick in his schlera.

Killua made his decision. He grabbed Sencha, wrapping one arm around her waist so that she was tucked under his armpit. He bounded forward, jumping over the gap, just skimming the sightlines of the shark villain and the nearest burst of flame, and landed on the railing, right in front of the little girl.

Close up, she looked nothing like Alluka, his little sister. But he still grabbed her with his free hand, tucking the girl under his other armpit. Something drove him to help her, filling him with urgency. He launched himself another floor down, then another, having to dodge another burst of fire that licked at his neck. He finally reached the ground floor, leaping above the crowd spilling through the doors, reaching the outside.

He looked down. Sencha's face was pale. The little girl's was not; her face was flushed and eager and she looked up at him in amazement.

He set them down. "Wait here," he said quietly. "I'm going to see what's going on."

"W-wait, Killua – !" Sencha started, but he had already run off, leaping over the crowd again to enter the burning building. He was lucky; his gask mask came in handy now. He wasn't feeling the effects of the smoke.

Normally, he would leave something like this alone. It had nothing to do with him, after all. But something was now burning inside him and he needed to let it out.

Maybe it was that girl's wide eyes and black locks, so similar to Alluka and in danger and abandoned. Maybe it was something in him that Gon had planted, that called him to act. Or maybe it was just the utter senselessness of the act, demolishing his one moment of peace, and he was angry.

He didn't know. But for whatever reason, he was charging back into the burning building.

He could beat these third-rate villains, he was confident of it. They weren't accomplishing anything, they had no honed dangerous sense of bloodlust he could sense. He was tired of being overly cautious, dancing around the unknown's of this worlds' "quirks". He had gathered enough info. He was going to fight.

He leapt up banisters again, reaching the fifth floor, where a jet of blue flame again attacked him.

"Yo, Tobi, stop toying around," Killua heard a low, annoyed voice come from above. He still hadn't reached the villains. "I need some help with this guy."

Killua leapt up another floor. He caught a flash of his opponent's face again. This time, he noticed the burn-red scars etched across his face. Had he burned himself with his own fire?

Another flash of fire. Killua leapt again, perching himself narrowly onto the glass bannister. He was now on the same floor as the villains, facing them squarely. Now, he would -

Bakugo's warning, accusation of rashness, flashed through his mind.

What am I doing here? Killua wondered suddenly, crouched on the bannister railing of a mall in flames, staring down a villain with blue fire in his hands. He didn't have a plan. He didn't know what he was doing by launching into the fray like this. He was being stupid, reckless again.

"You're not a hero, kid," the man said, sounding disappointed, his hand still hissing with smoke. Now, he could see Killua clearly too. "Why don't you get out of here? You don't want to fight me."

Killua looked at him, then at the shark man next to the fire villain. The shark had dropped the teenager he had held before, and now was turned to Killua, a toothy expression in his face. Killua observed the civilians around them, running panickedly to the elevators and stairs in the corners of each floor, nearly trampling over each other as they streamed together and clashed in the close quarters. They looked pathetic, weak. They were going to get themselves killed like this, trampling over themselves the way they were.

"Has no one ever taught you that all life is precious?"

Mito-san's words echoed through his head, the way they had rebounded inside him over and over again, since the words had been spoken weeks ago. His heart clenched. This wasn't the same.

"Okay," Killua said, turning his attention back to the flaming man, swallowing again. It wasn't because he was scared. "... I don't want to fight you."

Conflicting feelings wrestled inside of him. Despite his words, he didn't move an inch.

What was he doing here?

"Dabi, what're ya doin' talking with this kid?" the shark man whined. It painted almost a comical picture, the way he looked down at his much smaller companion, who, despite their physicality, exuded the far larger presence. "Let me beat him!" He grinned, mashing his fists together.

"Shut up," the flame villain - Dabi - said in a level tone, not even looking at the compatriot, his eyes narrowed and centered on Killua. "Kid, this ain't playtime. Stay here for much longer, and you'll really end up being hurt."

"... Then why are you here?" Killua finally asked, voice stretching across the empty space. His eyes flickered back to the crowd. Still struggling, but unimpeded in their panic. "You're obviously not very interested in the people here."

Dabi's eyes went flat.

"Kid, you have three seconds to scram." He lifted his fingers, still steaming, in an almost bored motion. "One…"

The shark man leaned forward eagerly, tensing, a huge grin splitting his face.

"Two…"

Killua still hadn't decided what to do. His eyes flitted between Dabi and the shark man, calculating his next move if things turned sour. No, when. He shouldn't be stupidly optimistic, when he had put himself in this situation.

"Three - "

A shout split the air.

"I am here!" a loud voice cried from below, so loud the sound travelled all the way up from the ground to the seventh floor.

Killua's eyes widened.

That voice… All Might?

That's right. The school. It was near here, wasn't it?

Even Killua had a hard time of keeping track of what happened next. Upon hearing the voice, the civilian strugglers settled down immediately, calm abruptly washing over the mall like a wave. A yellow flash worked its way through the bannister, and suddenly droves of people were disappearing, being taken out of the smokey mall. The fire was being contained, no longer spreading over merchandise and into carpeted stores, residues of air blasts sending tendrils of Killua's hair rustling above his eyes.

If Killua watched carefully, he could catch the motions of the bulky bunny-eared hero, but it was a close thing. If it came to a one-on-one battle with the hero, Killua was sure he could dodge one or two blows, by reflex and a small speed boost. But he couldn't keep up with the continuous, almost-effortless speed the "number one hero" was displaying here. Carrying civilians, dousing fires, subduing villains, all in the blink of an eye...

This guy, All Might... he was strong. No doubt about it.

Killua's distraction cost him. A warning blue blast skirted by his face, the heat of it melting the plastic gas mask.

Leaping away, Killua grimaced - it was painful - then, deciding that risking infection was better than having plastic melded to his face, tore away that side of the mask.

Killua was now away from the center of the battle; All Might had taken his place, now lunging into the fringe. The flame guy had disappeared. Now only the shark stood at the unmoving escalator, and one swing from All Might sent him flying backwards. He was easily subdued, evidently. Killua stood still, trying to watch the flurry of motion.

The pro hero looked around, and caught Killua's eye. Within another flash of motion, he was right in front of Killua, and had begun pressing duct tape to Killua's face, where the mask had been ripped off. A large grin stood firm on his face despite a serious set to his eyes, and he loomed over Killua's small figure.

"Young Zoldyck," the hero instructor said, angling his head lower to meet Killua's eyes. "Head to the entrance. I will take care of things here."

Killua nodded absently, pressing a hand up to feel the tape. It held the gas mask against his face, sealing the opening that would have been left otherwise. How had All Might known to carry it?

"There was another villain - " Killua started.

"I have it handled," All Might said firmly. "Now go!"

Before he could respond, All Might had already launched off into a flurry of motion. Most of the civilians were gone, but he was still picking them up, aiding anyone he could. It was clear to Killua that he was also conducting a search perimeter at the same time, the way he flitted around, narrowing down to the center every round on each floor.

Killua's eyes trailed after him.

So this was the distance between him and the heroes of this world, huh?

He shook his head. This was all distraction. Now that the villains were gone, he should get out of here. The floor he was on was now mostly empty, only small flickers of flame in the distance. The last civilian had just escaped down one of the four corner stairwells, and he was now already alone again. Killua began making his way to the stairwell as well. No reason to take the center route now, where he'd only draw attention to himself.

He began walking down the stairs, hearing the echoes of footsteps before him. He had been moving slowly, absently, when he heard a voice behind him.

"Hey, kid."

Killua froze, then whirled around, eyes wide. Even distracted, he should have noticed someone behind them. There had been no presence, no bloodlust.

Zetsu?

"Relax." The fire villain, Dabi, smiled, the expression stretching his stitches and scarred face eerily. He was leaned against the wall, and raised his hands into the air almost placatingly. His presence now seemed exceedingly loud, blaring back into life. "Just wanted to talk to you for a bit."

Killua had misjudged. This man was more dangerous than he had thought. Not a third-rate villain at all.

Was he a nen user? He narrowed his eyes, channeling gyo. No, the aura fluctuations were all typical for those of this world. He had just unlocked zetsu, likely like Gon had, instinctively.

That didn't make him any less dangerous.

"What about?" Killua asked warily, keeping his hands loose and free, ready to run or to fight.

"Thought I recognized you," the man smiled, his posture all loose and free. If Killua didn't notice how he held his body poised and ready to strike, one hand idly cupping the air, he'd have thought the man wasn't taking him seriously. "Kid from another universe, huh?"

Killua's eyes narrowed, broadening his stance. "What's your point?"

"Just curious," he replied, a loose, dangerous smile still on his face. The man was watching him carefully. "Why did a boy like you end up here, huh?"

"Why did you attack this mall?" Killua countered, feigning equal nonchalance, though he couldn't seem to fight down a tense tremor inside of him.

How strong exactly was he? He couldn't tell, damn it. Fuck this stupid world and its skewed power levels.

The man laughed. It was not a nice laugh.

"Touche." He paused. "Hey, kid, why don't you actually tell me a little something? What's your world like?" His eyes met Killua's. "I'll let you go if you do."

Killua considered. The guy had near-disappeared when All Might appeared; he had an unknown but impressive level of speed. His quirk was fire. He could use zetsu. They were in a near-closed corridor, the size of the stairway stifling. With his area of effect fire ability and Killua limited to physical moves and needing to get close, Dabi would have the advantage. No easy escape.

What was the harm of telling him, anyway?

"... It's much more lawless," Killua said flatly, saying the first thing that occurred to him. "No heroes. No quirks. Happy?"

A thoughtful gleam entered the man's eyes.

"No heroes, huh…" After a moment, the man shrugged. "Well, as promised, I'll let you go." He turned around, giving a casual jaunty wave back, shoulders hunched, his other hand tucked into his pocket. "See ya around, kid."

He was headed back up the stairs. Killua's eyes narrowed. Did he have another way to escape?

When the man was out of sight, Killua began running down the stairs, skipping four steps at a time.

The faster he was out of here, the better.

The firefighters and police were obviously relieved when he came out of the building. He was apparently the last one unaccounted for, and was immediately led over to Sencha by a policeman, who was waiting worriedly for him behind the barricade.

He had to assure her that he was okay, and in turn, she told him about that little girl he had taken out with them. Apparently, her mother had got caught in the panic, and hadn't realized her little girl wasn't with her until they had long since been separated by the crowd. She had tried to swim backwards, against the current of the mob panic, but ultimately had been brought down to the police, hoping that someone else had taken her daughter down. She had been lucky she wasn't trampled.

All in all, the incident had been over in less than ten minutes, thanks to the fast response of All Might, who had apparently been at UA grading papers late when he heard cries of help and rushed over. He didn't stay long to talk to the media, or Killua, only quickly promising to talk to the boy in class tomorrow before he again leapt away.

The night was filled with praises of All Might and his heroism. Sencha was shell-shocked to even get a word from him. It was a long time, however, before everyone was cleaned up, the police had taken their statements, and the gathered crowd began to disperse.

Sencha and Killua parted at her doorstep; he had walked her over because she seemed a little out of it. After some hesitation, she trundled in and that was that. The end to their hours of fun, which… hadn't gone quite as planned.

There was still one more thing that Killua had to do tonight, however, before he himself would turn in for the night.

Finding Giran's hideout again was more difficult than he had thought. The place was oddly crowded in the shadows, distinctly unmemorable. Yet, after half an hour or so of walking, Killua still managed to find his way to the building.

He slid on his robber's mask, then pulled Bakugo's old baggy sweatpants and hoodie over his clothes. He hadn't had time to get anything better at the mall, after all, so he was lucky to have packed it. He still smelled of smoke, but there wasn't much he could do about that right now. After a moment of thought, he left his backpack hidden in an alleyway dumpster.

Finally, he opened the entrance door, sidling himself in. It was dark, musty, having the feel of an abandoned building. It was also utterly quiet - but he knew from last time that Giran's office was soundproofed, so that didn't tell him much. He thought he could detect two presences in the building.

He turned the hall and made his way to the office room. The heavy door opened with a creak.

Giran was sitting at his desk, lounged at the chair, obviously in thought. He was the only one in the room. When Killua entered silently, he looked up in surprise.

"Back again so soon?" Giran asked, raised one eyebrow. "And here I thought you never were going to come back, with how you left last time."

Killua scoffed, throwing his hands in his pockets. The pants were raggedy, but felt too-finely woven. Characteristic of this world. At least there wasn't any ash on them. "Wasn't sure if I was going to, old man." He paused. "Your info better be good."

Giran lips creased into an almost-smile, his familiar swarmy look returning. "Remember, you have to pay off your debt to me first."

Right, the stupid "debt".

Killua held his silence, however, opting to let the man speak more.

Giran stretched back in his seat, leaning, looking more comfortable. He shed off his shock at Killua's arrival like a snake sheds off skin. "Well," he said, "you've come at a good time. Another prospective member arrived just a bit ago, and another one should arrive in a few moments. I was about to debrief them."

Killua narrowed his eyes, his eyes sharply scanning the room. That second presence… it was nearby. He couldn't quite pinpoint it exactly.

… An invisibility quirk? Was someone watching them? He was on edge after all that had happened earlier.

"Where's the first one?" Killua asked cautiously.

"In the bathroom," Giran said, an amused smile on his face, watching Killua from over his sunglasses. "He's been taking an alarmingly long time. Maybe we should check up on him?"

Killua shook his head. "I'm in no hurry," he said, keeping his voice carefully bored. Best to keep his cards hidden, and gain as much information as possible. "Why don't you start telling me a little about this 'League of Villains'?"

Giran sighed, giving a long-suffering look to the cieling, before meeting Killua's gaze levelly.

"Look, kid, how about we toss aside the pretenses… You wouldn't have come here unless you were interested in something. You can quit acting so nonchalant."

Killua grimaced.

"Oh?" he said, letting his stance stiffen. "I'm pretty sure I'm only here on a long shot. I doubt you have what I need."

"So you're desperate, then," Giran mused, raising his eyebrows at him.

Killua mentally cursed. "More like, willing to take a chance on something dicey…" He looked warningly at Giran. "... if it doesn't cost me too much time."

"Hmm, you play hard to get, kid." The man grinned, abruptly. "I like it."

Killua shrugged, and shifted backwards uncomfortably. "I don't think I care what you like," Killua said flatly. A moment later, he turned his attention to the door; he thought he could feel someone approaching. Giran followed his gaze curiously, dropping the conversation in favor of his curiosity.

Just moments later, the door slammed against the wall with great force, revealing a strangely exuberant-looking man wearing a red and black mask and bodysuit.

"Ooh, I'm back!" the new arrival shouted from the door. "That was a biiig crap! That felt great!" Then he said, in a completely different tone, his voice lowering and turning angry, "Giran! That was horrible! Your bathroom stinks! Clean it up!"

Taking this in stride, the information broker chuckled, getting comfortable in his seat again, reclining back.

"Come in, Twice," he said. "I have another prospective member for you to meet."

The white eyes of the man's mask widened, and he swung his head towards Killua. He bounced over to Killua in three smooth strides, strangely energetic in a way that completely clashed with Giran's dark and danky hideout. Killua fought from taking a step back.

"Hi!" the man greeted. "I'm Twice! And who are you, bastard?"

Killua looked at him, bemused, then stared down at the proffered hand. A moment later, he shook it, noting the strange texture of the man's suit.

"I'm…" Killua shook his head, his lips twitching upwards. "Just someone passing through."

"Huh? You can't even introduce yourself properly!?" the man said. Then, backing off, shaking his hands in the air, he continued, "Oh, that's okay, I get it, we all have our secrets."

This guy was seriously giving him mixed signals. If he ignored the insults though, this guy was actually pretty funny.

"Twice here," Giran said, straightening himself up from his relaxed position, eyes now hidden behind the sunglasses, "has been looking for a group of people to accept him in. This kid," he gestured to Killua lazily, "has hmm… a debt that he owes me."

His attention then fully settled on Killua.

"Can't just keep calling you kid, though, if we're going to be doing business dealings. You better come up with a name, or I'll come up with one for you."

Killua shrugged. He supposed it didn't matter much. "You can call me Hunter, then."

Giran grimaced. "There are probably a dozen cheap-scale villains going by that kind of name, but I guess it'll do for now." He looked towards Twice and Killua both. "We're still waiting on one more person."

"Who's the next member?" Killua asked curiously.

"Her name is Himiko Toga," the man said, for once easily revealing a slip of information. He smiled. "I have to warn you, she's a bit… eccentric."

Killua turned his head towards the masked man, eyeing him pointedly.

"More than Twice?" he asked drolly.

"Hey!" the man immediately protested. "Watch your mouth!" Then he slumped, a depressed look conveying itself even though the mask. "I am pretty strange, aren't I…"

Killua laughed, for real this time. "Don't worry," he said. "You're not the strangest person I've met."

"Really?" the man brightened. Then, again, in an angry tone, "Yeah right, you're lying."

Killua shrugged. He wasn't, really.

"Anyway," Giran cut in. "While we're waiting, why don't we chat about our common interests for a moment?" He paused, letting the words settle, then inclined his head at the man. "Twice, you can start."

"Uh, like with why I'm here?" Twice asked, pointing at himself. "That's so obvious," he proclaimed angrily a moment later.

Giran nodded.

The man shuffled his feet. His real persona seemed to be that of the non-angry one. The atmosphere of the room seemed to shift. He looked at Killua almost shyly.

"Giran is the one that told me, to find people who can trust in me. Friends," he said.

Killua's eyes widened. Then they sharpened, narrowing in onto Giran.

"So you're trying to get me onboard using some non-existent 'debt'," Killua scoffed at the information broker, placing his hands into his pockets, "and now you're getting this guy tied up in villainy by telling him they'll be his friends? Talk about a user." Killua shook his head, ignoring the startled look Twice now gave him. He made a rapid-fire decision, and said, "I'm out."

It wasn't like this meeting was anything more than a roll of the dice anyway. Without waiting for a response, he turned and started making his way to the door.

"You sure?" Giran asked evenly from behind him. "You might be missing out on an opportunity of a lifetime."

Killua stopped, half-turned.

"I don't play with people who try to use me," he said sharply. He looked at Twice, considered for a second, then said, "If you know what's smart for you, you'd get out too."

"But Giran helped me - fuck you, bastard, I don't just betray my friends."

Killua shrugged, not letting his disappointment show.

"Have it your way," he called, walking forward, to the door again. "I can't stop you."

His hand was on the handle, cool metal. He turned the handle, and swung the heavy door open -

And blinked, widened his eyes in alarm, then jumped ten feet back, crossing his arms defensively. He was now halfway across the room, crouched close to where Giran sat.

A knife filled the space he had just been occupying.

So much for leaving quickly, Killua thought, heart sinking.

"I was waiting for someone to come out!" a young girl's voice crooned from the doorway. She looked up at Killua, meeting his eyes, her own curved into pleased crescents. "Shame you got away."

Killua shivered. He knew a psychopath when he saw one.

"Miss Toga," Giran greeted cooly from his chair, which was now far too close to Killua's new position for his liking.

... "Toga"?

"This is your third member?" Killua asked Giran incredulously. No relaxing his posture, he inched away so that he could face all three occupants of the room at once.

"Yup, that's me!" the girl said cheerily. She stepped into the room. Her knife was inauspiciously missing from her grasp.

"She's crazy!" Killua said, astonished despite himself. It wasn't any of his business anymore, but… "Why would you want someone like her on your team?"

"Hey!" the girl said, frowning, leaning forward poutishly, her blond bangs jostling with the motion. "That's mean. How would you like it if I started throwing insults at you, huh? What've you got against me, anyway?"

"You just tried to stab me!" Killua said incredulously.

"Aww, it was just to see a little blood," she smiled serenely, then licked her lips. "Just a little blood…" Her eyes took on a dazed look, and she took a small step in Killua's direction. Immediately, he tensed, feeling immensely disturbed.

"Do you… have another door to this room?" Killua asked Giran hesitantly, not taking his eyes off that girl. She had actually surprised him; that meant she was dangerous, just like Dabi had been. He channeled aura to his eyes, activating gyo. Her aura fluctuations, strangely enough, were emergent around her entire body, if somewhat concentrated around her mouth. What did that tell him?

"Afraid not," Giran lied glibly. Killua knew it was a lie by how utterly idiotic it would be to meet unknown villains in a single room with only one exit. "You'll just have to get past her, if you want out."

"Eeh!?" The girl lit up like a puppy. "You mean I really get to stab him? I really have permission?"

Giran raised a hand and his shoulder in a casual "go ahead" gesture.

"Bastard…" Killua gritted his teeth.

"It's just what happens when someone refuses to pay a debt to me," Giran said, suddenly all cool towards him, light glinting off his narrow glasses. "Consider it a little test to see if you're worth keeping alive."

Killua's eyes flashed in anger. He almost turned to leap at him first, cut off the kingpin of the operation, before he again remembered Bakugo's warning about acting stupid. It was already the second time this day something like this had happened, he should act more carefully.

Fine, Killua thought, surveying the situation. His eyes flashed to Twice, who was backing away, looking uncomfortable with the situation, to the girl, Himiko Toga, who was rapidly and quietly approaching him, her presence oddly minimized, then to Giran, who was still sitting in his chair with that damnable smug look on his face. So. Toga was the only obvious enemy here. Giran could wait - unless he had a long-range quirk or something. Killua'd have to keep an eye out for that.

He had waited too long. Toga leaped towards him, knife slashing out.

Killua dodged smoothly, flashing backwards. His eyes narrowed.

Was that really as fast as she could go?

"Oh," he said, a smile rising on his face. "Looks like I was worried for nothing."

He'd go for the simple win. He rushed forward, getting behind her, raising a hand to chop -

She whirled, her golden eyes tracking his movements -

She widened her eyes in alarm, leaping back -

Killua missed, his own eyes widening -

She ran off to the side. A knife came whistling his way -

- and he dodged, and dodged again, barely missing the second one she sent flying over to him.

She had been holding out on that first strike, he realized immediately.

"Stay still," she whined. "I want to cut you up and see you bleed."

Killua scowled, then slashed his hands in the air threateningly. "Stay away from me, you creep."

Still, this was a fight he could win. He had been surprised, and that had almost caught him, but he could still outrun her. He could tell; his reflexes were still beyond hers. She obviously hadn't trained as rigorously as he had. But there was something…

Her presence muted, then completely disappeared. Killua narrowed his eyes. Zetsu. So, she had learned it too, had she? And it was a near perfect one, too. Was it that common in this world?

She came at him from the right. Killua dodged. She looked astonished, then twirled in the air, jumping over him, trying to get out of his line of sight. Killua jumped, grabbed her leg, then slammed her into the ground.

"O-ouch…" she said, trying to pick herself up again, but Killua wouldn't let her. He pressed his knee tightly against her back in the moment she was stunned, then dragged one of her arms against her back to fully subdue her.

With her free hand, she sent a smaller knife flying his way; he had to shift his body to avoid it. Wrist sheathes? This girl was full of tricks.

"Stop," he growled, immediately shifting his weight fully back onto her. "You've lost."

He felt proud he hadn't needed to use any of his assassination tricks to win; that was one card he didn't want to show if he could avoid it. He only hoped that she would concede.

He didn't want to kill her.

"You're fast…" she hissed. "Faster than me. How?"

He pressed her arm back further, causing her to give a yelp of pain. "Say you won't attack me again," he said. He then unleashed his killing intent, imprinting his next words onto her mind. "Or I will kill you."

She went still under his grasp.

A few seconds later, Giran clapped.

Killua turned his gaze to him, eyes sharp and angry. It was a sardonic, slow clap. This man… he had nerves of steel, to do this when Killua's killing intent was so unleashed.

"Well done," the info broker said. "I now see that you truly are worthy of a name like Hunter. This was just a game to you, wasn't it? Tell you what. I'll absolve your debt, and we can discuss…"

His voice paled when Killua's killing intent only intensified, now directed at him.

"L-let go…" Toga whispered from underneath him.

"Hunter!" a voice exclaimed from the other corner of the room. Killua's sharp eyes snapped to him. Twice was chattering, the fingers of his right hand pressed to his face. "D-don't - they haven't done anything to you. Don't hurt Giran, you bastard!"

Killua looked from Twice, to Giran, to Toga.

A few moments later, he relaxed his killing intent.

"Don't mess with me," he said coolly, not relenting an inch. The tension in the room hadn't decreased. "If any of you come after me again after this, I will kill you."

He looked down at Toga, noting how her free hand was twitching against the ground. He relaxed her grip, and when she didn't immediately twitch for her knives, he considered that a victory.

"I'm going to let you go now, Himiko," he said. "Don't move."

Cautiously, he stood up, walking backwards towards the door. He swung it open, checking now that there were no nasty surprises waiting on the other side.

There weren't. Good.

He looked back at the rest of the room, surveying the occupants. Twice looked nervous and confused. Himiko Toga was breathing heavily on the floor, a strange look on the portion of her face that Killua could see. Giran's expression was inscrutable, eyes dark behind his sunglasses, fixed on Killua at the doorway.

Killua smiled, though of course, they couldn't see it behind his mask.

"See you around," he waved, making his tone brighter, putting his hands casually in his pockets. He kicked the door closed behind him, and it shut with a solid clang.

"But preferably not," he then muttered to himself, looking left and right in the dark hallways, hunched his shoulders over to appear less noticeable, and made his way out of the dank and dusty building. Once out, he grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and removed the robber's mask in one smooth motion.

He had rolled the dice and lost. He needed to re-evaluate, plan his next move that didn't involve either Giran or the heroes. Like Sencha had said, it wasn't yet time to lose hope. He had to keep fighting, keep thinking. After all, for once in his life, now he had something to fight for. He needed to get back home.

For now, however, it was time to head back to Bakugo's place.