AN: Trigger Warning. Like seriously. Graphic depictions of violence. This get's really brutal.
Night had fallen, silent and all encompassing. The whisper of the wind against Killua's glass sliding doors sounded like a song of war. The envelope was opened and left on his nightstand, the slip of paper neatly beside it. Killua knew where the place was. It was an abandoned building a few miles away.
He wanted to hurry and get this over with.
The faster he eliminated all these people, the better.
It didn't matter who it was or what they were trying to do.
Alluka's safety was Killua's top priority.
He'd do anything to protect her.
Killua slipped off his clothes and stood before the bed with his skin completely bared.
Illumi had left something for him…
It was his Valkyrie armor. It was laying on his bed. It was not only a sign of Illumi's dedication to have Killua do this job right, but also a threat. This meant that Illumi knew where Killua was living. He knew where Gon slept.
And he'd use that information against Killua if he didn't comply with Illumi's demands.
If he didn't do this job, he'd lose Alluka.
And if he cut any corners while doing it, he'd lose Gon and Leorio.
Killua took a deep and shuddering breath, and reached out for his armor. Valkyrie armor was a Dragonite Clan tradition. It was tight and molded to the skin, designed to fortify one's body and defend them from weak attacks.
A Zoldyck should not have to bother with blocking attacks from the weak.
The armor was there to alleviate them of that disgrace.
Killua slipped on each segment with a cold shadow falling over him. He slipped on the chestplate, the gauntlets, the sleeves, the boots, and the belt. His entire body was encased in an intricate and overlapping outer layer, thin yet stronger than titanium. It was crafted from Dragon's skin, and was made especially for Killua. When he had come of age, Killua had gone out to slay a Dragon.
It was Dragonite Valkyrie tradition, and in his victory Killua had been awarded his armor.
The armor was black with hints of purple, and spines from the Dragon's face and neck were lined up on Killua's outer forearms and down his back and shoulders. The armor was just as much of a weapon as Killua was, if someone tried to merely sweep his legs they'd end up with shattered bones.
The gloves ended fingerless, bracing his hands to make his claws even stronger. The slit for his tail was form fitting and perfect, cuffing the base of his tail where it was most sensitive. The armor even came with a set of sleeves for his tail, sleeves that gave him the ability to stop bullets with the appendage. They were also designed to make it more aerodynamic, and even though his tail was weighed down it slipped through the air with even more ease than before.
The back was open where Killua's wings were supposed to be… but now all that was there was bare and tattooed skin.
It also came with a helmet, though Killua didn't like wearing it.
He wore the mask though.
There was a reason he'd felt so comfortable covering the bottom half of his face for all those months.
He hooked the thing around his ears, and clamped it over his jaw. It enhanced his sense of smell, and made him look even more Dragonite than he already was. As Killua donned his armor for the first time in over a year, he came to realize that it was… susceptible to Blood Magic. His Magical Energy slipped over the surface of the armor, the armor propelled it even.
Of course the armor would work in that regard.
His parents really had his life completely mapped out, huh…
The armor didn't even fall slack across his back without his wings where they were supposed to be. It was almost as if his parents had predicted that he'd seal them and need his armor to still fit without them. It made Killua's blood boil.
He looked at himself in the floor mirror.
Killua looked like…
A Valkyrie.
Illumi had left Killua's weapon of choice as well… but Killua had hidden it in the closet.
He'd rebel in that regard, it was the only way he was allowed.
Killua's throat was choked and he suddenly felt trapped and claustrophobic.
No–
This wasn't him–
He didn't want to look like this–
Killua shook his head and rolled his shoulders, Dragon spines shifting with the movement. He didn't have time for petty panic attacks right now. Alluka was in danger. And he had a job to do.
The mercenary clad in black walked out onto his balcony, crown of silver hair reflecting the weak light of the crescent moon. He stepped up on the railing, and jumped to the roof of the building without having to bunch his muscles at all. The armor enhanced his strength, and the sharp soles of his shoes allowed him to walk on walls and ceilings without the use of his Ren.
He had to admit… wearing the armor felt incredible.
And Killua hated that.
He hated that his heart thrummed with pride knowing that he was at his most powerful form right now.
He hated his pride in his Valkyrie blood.
He focused on the fact that he no longer had wings. He used that to ground himself, to remind himself that this was not who he was.
Killua could play the game all he wanted.
But the Valkyrie part of him only ran blood deep.
His true self was left behind in the apartment… his true self was curled up in a ball next to Gon… where Killua wished with all of his heart that he was right now.
With one last deep breath, Killua fell into assassin mode and disappeared into the ink of the night.
…
A silver haired assassin, a herald of death in all but in name, descended upon the abandoned building. His mind was not in the driver's seat, he had allowed himself to fall into a trance, a violent and gruesome trace that would leave heads rolling and bodies dead before they hit the ground.
He dropped down behind the two guards on the roof, dispatching them with a mere flick of his tail. Two severed heads bounced with a wet splat, and the assassin was in the building before their bodies hit the ground.
The assassin darted through empty hallways and in between broken walls. He was silent as death itself, and brought it with every room he happened across. Every patrol he crossed paths with was slaughtered immediately. Some of them reduced to nothing more than thick red splatters coating the walls and the floors.
He descended to the lower floors, making his way through in a specific pattern to run into every patrol on purpose. He punched through chests, slit throats, and turned bodies inside out. Blood splattered against his armor, coating him in a thick and sticky sheen.
For some of the weaker ones, just the feeling of his aura was enough for them to freeze up, hearts seizing up in their chests as a violent and unforgiving aura assaulted their bodies without holding back.
The assassin did not even need to use his Magic.
It was over in a flash.
He arrived at the bottom floor, a trap waiting for him but he did not care.
He'd wanted it to be this way, he'd taken his time on purpose.
So when the young woman with the wild purple hair whipped around to face him, he didn't even recognize her. Not until she spoke, that was.
"Brace yourselves, he's here!" she called out to her troops. "If you thought we'd go down without a fight, Illumi, than you were gravely mistaken–"
She froze.
Killua froze.
Time seemed to slow down.
"...It's you," she breathed.
Killua's consciousness rose back to the surface. Now he could feel the pressing of their aura against his own, protecting them from his onslaught of rage and bloodlust. He could feel their blood sticky against his hair, he could feel the sinew and organs caked under his nails. He could smell the sharp scent of their sweat, their fear, and most importantly the coppery sensation of their comrade's blood all over his body.
"Who?" whispered one of the soldiers… leaning up against the legs of the woman with the wild purple hair. He wrapped his tiny arm around her leg, trembling with fear and hiding within the shield of her trained aura.
"He's the worst one," was her response… voice quivering with fear. "No, no! You weren't supposed to be here! It was supposed to be Illumi, not–"
Killua's eyes blew wide.
No–
It couldn't be–
"Killua," breathed the toddler at her legs.
Yes.
Toddler.
Because these people were–
This army was–
Fifty odd children fell into fighting stances, drawing weapons and steeling their aura.
All of them dead focused on Killua.
The Toddler… the toddler drew a tiny silver dagger. He was shaking in his boots… but the glare on his tiny face was enough to make Killua gag. Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed it back down with a burning sensation.
The woman - the only adult - shook her head, and drew a pair of twin swords.
"You really have no respect, do you?" she spat in Killua's direction. "Valkyrie's really don't hold back. We knew this was a lost cause but the least they could have done was send someone who isn't you."
Killua swallowed again. "What are you all doing–"
"-SHUT UP!" she screamed, orange eyes flashing and tendons popping in her face and neck. Spittle flew, and Killua flinched backwards. The woman took a deep breath to calm herself, glancing down apologetically at the toddler at her legs, who was holding his ears and looking up at her with watery eyes. "No matter. Look at them," she gestured behind her with a sword. "They're all determined to die by your hand anyways."
Killua glanced reluctantly around the abandoned building. All these children… some no more than four years of age… the oldest being ten, all of them had such intense hatred in their eyes. How. How did children know this bottomless rage?
The woman gave a rough laugh, "Funny, isn't it? You really should have considered the consequences of your actions back then." Her voice darkened, shaking with emotion. "You didn't have to kill all of them. Your orders were to punish us. To give a warning. Not to murder, not to kill."
Killua took a shuddering breath, still frozen in place. "Listen, I–"
"-It is in your name, though," she said with disgust. "'Kill.' I don't know what we expected. How could we expect anything less from the house of Dragonite Valkyries? It's better this way. There's a lot of us. I hope you're good and ready."
The woman pointed her sword at Killua.
"Attack," she said apathetically.
Not… not phased in the slightest by ordering children to rush into battle with an angel of death.
The toddler flipped the blade in his hand, and then dashed forward. The others rushed Killua as well, and the Valkyrie gasped in horror. He lowered his stance, and braced himself against the flurry of–
Shockingly skilled attacks.
No.
He would not fight children.
Killua spun out of the way of the toddler, and continued to dodge attack after attack. It was fifty on one… but it was so weighed in Killua's favor that it brought tears to his eyes. This was so unfair–
What the fuck was going on–
Why the fuck had Illumi been ordered to do this–
What had Killua agreed to–
"Don't just stand there!" Shrieked a seven year old girl with messy pigtails. "Fight!"
Killua's eyes widened in horror.
"Honor us!" cried the toddler.
"You killed my mother, allow me the release I desire!" screamed a ten year old boy.
"What are you doing, Price of Ice?" the woman called out to him, still watching from where she stood. "Fight them! Don't you see they want this?!"
Killua gritted his teeth, and ducked another flurry of attacks. But another group of them was coming at him from behind–
He wasn't going to be able to dodge both of those at the same time–
The toddler swung his blade at Killua's knee.
"Wait! Don't–" Killua gasped, unable to get out of the way.
The toddler slammed his dagger into Killua's armored leg.
Only for the blade to shatter on impact.
And for the force to reverberate from Killua's armor into his tiny arm.
Shattering every bone into dust.
The toddler screamed, and Killua stumbled to a halt. No–
Not the kid–
Killua reached out for him, he needed to hurry! Shit, he didn't know any Bloodletting but if he could siphon his Ren into the kid then he could speed up his healing process and save his arm–
Without him dodging anymore, the kids descended upon him.
They attacked his armor mercilessly, but only managed to break weapons and bones. One kid punched Killua in the gut, breaking his hand on the Dragonskin. Blood splattered, and Killua watched in horror as he was unable to reach the screaming toddler.
The boy was trampled by his own clanmates.
Killua choked down a sob, rolling through the sea of tiny bodies. He winced as he flung a couple of the bigger ones into a nearby wall, but he made it to the toddler in the process. He scooped his tiny body into his arms, and pumped Valkyrie strength into his legs.
Killua jumped up high, landing on top of an enormous stack of shipping containers.
The kids stopped, watching with fiery eyes.
The woman watched him with rage and a blank expression.
Killua looked down at the kid in his arms. He had sage colored skin, just like all of them did. His purple hair was slicked to his forehead with sweat, and his glassy blue eyes trembled as they gazed up at Killua in mortal fear.
They were Forest Nymphs, and had lived in the trees surrounding Kukuroo Mountain. They had possessed a clan numbering in the hundreds, a clan that hated their Dragonite neighbors with a passion. They had refused to abide by the laws of the Valkyrie Clan, and like all opposers to the Zoldyck regime, they had been crushed underfoot.
The small boy was trembling in Killua's arms, his shattered arm already bruised and a horrid black-blue. He whimpered, and squirmed against Killua's gentle fingers. Tears rose in the assassin's eyes. This was not supposed to happen.
"P-put me down," he gurgled, blood bubbling up from his lips.
Shit, the others had cracked his ribs–
He had a punctured lung and Killua could hear it straining in his chest–
Tears rolled down the kids cheeks and he shrieked loud and piercing when Killua reached for his shirt to pull it up and try to brace his chest. The kid squirmed and thrashed, terrified and in a panic. But all his squirming did was worsen his condition, and Killua could hear him snapping more of his already fractured bones–
"Wait!" Killua pleaded softly, voice cracking. He laid the kid on his legs, crouching on the tower of boxes. "It's okay, please!"
The kid just continued sobbing and squirming, meeting Killua's eyes with terror.
Killua quickly took off his mask, revealing his entire face. His hair blew up from his eyes with the release of air pressure, and his ears flicked back in submission now that they were free to move.
He held his hands up in surrender, claws long since retracted.
Killua stared into the kid's eyes, begging him to trust him–
"W–why?" he mumbled, voice sounding wet and strained.
A sob wracked Killua's body, and tears spilled forth. He encased his hands in his Ren and rested one hand on the kid's tiny chest, and the other on his arm. "You shouldn't throw your life away," Killua choked out, blue eyes shining and pulsing with emotion.
The kid's own blue orbs widened, tears still welling and spilling.
But his eyebrows rose up and drew together, that expression enough to shatter Killua's heart.
Killua drew from his Blood Energy pocket, he drew so much energy that Magic crackled audibly in the air around him. He pumped it into the kids arm, blood dribbling from his nose as he placed those bone shards back together again. He dedicated half his energy to preventing the kid from feeling pain, and his hands trembled with anxiety as he lifted the rib shards out of his lung and sealed the thin and fragile tissue.
He re-placed the kid's ribs, and healed every broken bone. Blood was gushing from Killua's nose, ears, and even eyes by now, dripping down onto the kid's face. The kid who watched him in wonder. Eyes wide and sparkling.
Killua gasped when it was done lifting his hands up from the kid and gazing down at his work. He was good as new. Even the bags under his eyes were gone. Three fourths of Killua's Blood Energy was wasted, and he was half certain that the pain in his head and bleeding in his skull was a form of Bloodletting, but he'd done it.
The kid was–
"K-killua?"
Wait, no!
No, no, no!
Killua had healed him, not now–
"Huh?" the assassin whimpered.
"You're not, you're not a bad guy, are you?"
Killua gasped, crying all over again.
"Then why… why did you kill my, my brother? He was my only… my only one left."
Killua choked on sobs. "I– I was wrong back then, I'm so sorry! I– I didn't mean– Please, I've changed now. I'm not that person anymore. Please forgive me, please know that I regret that night with my entire being!"
The tiny kid gave a strained smile. "You– you're sorry? Promise?"
Killua choked on his words, only able to nod.
"I think… I think you're… okay. I forgive– I forgive Killua."
The Valkyrie whined low in his throat.
The kid's breathing started to slow. His eyes started to flutter.
"No, wait!" Killua squeaked, pumping more Ren into his hands and gently diffusing it into the kid's body. He had to keep him here! Why wasn't it working?!
"S'kay, Killu-Killua." The kid reached a shaky hand up to touch Killua's blood stained hair. He was clearly delirious. Killua was losing him and fast– But he had saved him, why was–
"Soft," he whispered. "Like an– like an angel's wings. Are you an angel Killua?"
"Please, what's your name!" the assassin cried out.
"My name is… my name is…"
Killua lifted him up, cradling the kid against his chest, hanging off this child's words with his entire being.
The tiny boy held onto Killua's bangs, rubbing his silver locks between chubby fingers.
"Name's Daya… Dayaamay."
"Dayaamay.." Killua repeated. The kid's eyes gave one last shimmer, and he gave the hint of a smile… before his eyes faded to gray, and his face fell slack in death.
Killua gasped, staring down at the dead child.
He held the tiny body cradled in his arms, disbelieving of what had just happened–
"That was truly pitiable," the woman called from the floor. "Hard to watch, even. You disgust me."
Killua looked in dismay from Dayaamay to the woman on the ground. He had just died– He who had clearly been close with her, wasn't she sad at all–
"There's no reason to stop," she snapped at her army of children. "Continue the attack!"
The kids jerked into action, ready to try and climb the boxes to get to Killua–
"Wait!" Killua yelled, his voice barking out and echoing off the walls.
The kids paused, and he had the attention of everyone.
He gently lay Dayaamay's body down beside him, and rose to his feet with his hands held up in surrender. "Please, I don't want to fight. We don't have to do this! I… I'm so incredibly sorry for what I did that night. I've never gone a day of my life without regretting my sins from that time! Know that I carry that pain with me, and will for all of time," Killua sobbed, voice cracking. "I'm a different person now, I've changed from what I once was. Please, we don't have to fight, I don't want to kill you–"
"-Are you… joking?" the woman growled. "What worth do your sorries hold? Why would we ever want an apology from you? You killed every single adult in our clan! You left us orphaned and alone, to die and starve in the forest that you burnt to the ground! And here you stand before us asking for forgiveness? Preaching about how you've 'changed,' how you're 'not that person anymore?' No! You– Someone like you can NEVER atone for what they've done! You will always be that horrible demon from that night, and no amount of whining will change that. Look into our eyes and see the destruction you rained on our lives. Look into that boy's dead eyes and know that this is your fault. Attempt to 'save' him all you want, but he was dead the moment he relinquished his resolve to kill you."
What? Is that why he died even though I saved him? But why would–
With a flourish of her hand, the woman held her bladed fist high in the air.
"It's time!" she cried out.
Killua's eyes panned wide as all 49 children stood up straight, and then simultaneously stabbed themselves in the center of their chests with their weapons. Blood spurted, and the majority of them shrieked or cried out. Some of them laughed. Some of them grinned.
But all of them, all of them kept their eyes glued on Killua.
Suddenly, power started rising off of them.
Magical power.
Blood Magic.
Their spilled blood began to glow, and was sucked back into their bodies. Their eyes burst into a blinding greenish-white flame, and enough Magical Energy poured off of them to make Killua stumble backwards and fall off the boxes. He landed messily on his feet, and the army of glowing children started walking towards him.
The woman loosed a crazed laugh.
Killua sensed something impending coming from the children, something dangerous–
He quickly activated Gyo, needing to know what the hell was going on.
What he found… would give him nightmares for the rest of his life.
The kids' blood was beginning to boil, glowing and pumping at dangerous speeds through their bodies. Magical Energy derived from their blood's movement, from their pain, and most importantly from a determination set in all of their minds.
What was this, some sort of contract with themselves?
What the hell was going on–
They were turning themselves into bombs!
"So you see, now?" the woman asked with a wicked grin. "All of us are already prepared to die! We've already sworn our lives away! You have no choice but to kill us! That's the only way to disarm the bombs! Do you see why Illumi was sent to take care of this? Once our army descends upon Kukuroo Mountain, we can blast the entire Dragonite home and population into nothingness! Do you see the power of our resolve?! Of our rage?! What do you think, will you fight us now?!"
Killua watched in horror as the kids continued stumbling towards him. But–
But some of them were crying–
The younger ones were screaming–
They were gurgling, foam spilling up from their mouths as the acid in their stomachs bubbled and reacted with the Magic–
Their blood was bubbling up and out of their skin, melting their flesh and covering them in a hot and glowing liquid.
Their eyes burned away with that fire, a goopy mush melting down their faces and burning their faces away to nothing but skulls and brains.
And they were screaming–
Oh the screams–
But they kept moving. It was the Magic. It was whatever this awful spell was.
They were stuck. Killua could sense the spell's essence in the air. They had vowed to march on Killua, to blow him to dust with this horrendous power. And now they couldn't stop no matter how much they suffered. Their pain would increase and increase until they were powered all the way up, and then they would experience a world of pain as they themselves were blown to flesh and bits.
This was horrible–
With the numbers they had, they would eradicate all of Kukuroo Mountain and then some! All those Valkyries… the entire Dragonite subspecies would be wiped out. That would be mass genocide, and all over a body of dead and suffering children.
Was this the dark side of Blood Magic that Wing had warned them about?
Was this the Demonic darkness that one could fall to?!
The kids walked up to Killua, they hung off his arms and legs, screaming all the time. Some of them screamed Killua's name in rage, and a lot of them just shrieked their throats raw. But some of them… Some of them begged Killua for mercy as their faces melted away and their teeth turned to slop.
The only way to deactivate the bombs is to kill them.
The only way to end this incredible suffering… is to kill them.
I have to make this fast or else they'll go insane–
I have to stop this or they'll blow half of Yorknew City away–
No one should suffer like this.
Not the worst of people, not even the Demon King himself.
And especially not children.
Who did this?
Who could ever do this?!
Killua gritted his teeth and sharpened his claws. Shit, no amount of context towards the situation would make this any easier. He was still killing these kids. These innocent kids that were throwing their lives away out of rage and hate. These innocent kids that… that Killua had directed onto this path.
With tears in his eyes and a scream choked back in his throat, Killua began cutting them down. He made it fast, so fast and swift. They cried in relief as their pain and suffering ended, some even thanked him.
Even the ones who continued screaming at him in rage sobbed in relief when they were dispatched.
It was over in a minute tops, but it was the hardest thing Killua had ever had to do in his life.
Once they died, the bodies stopped glowing.
Once they were dead… they were nothing more than half melted and desecrated corpses.
The ones that still had eyes… were trapped open in expressions of a horrible and nauseating relief.
Soon… Killua was surrounded by a pile of tiny bodies.
A pile of tiny bodies with dead eyes, staring at him in thanks… thanks for a fate worse than death itself. A fate so awful that death at the hands of their sworn nemesis was the preferred alternative.
Killua couldn't move. His eyes were wide and glassy.
His claws were covered in a melty slop of what had once been their insides.
He would vomit if he could.
But no.
He was frozen on the spot.
Then she started laughing.
That deranged woman started laughing.
"Do you see now? Do you see the lengths we've fallen to?" she giggled. "This is all because of you! Because you are nothing but a dirty, disgusting, DEPLORABLE Valkyrie. She left the building with an evil cackle on her lips… but when Killua turned his head to look her in the face…
There were tears streaming down her cheeks.
It was one of the most terrifying expressions Killua had ever seen in his life.
"Oh, don't worry. We have numerous bases, it will take you weeks to wipe us all out! We're a disease. A disease of your making. But there is no escape. You took this job like this obedient dog that you are. Good boy, Prince of Ice. Another job well done. I'll see you tomorrow night~"
And with that, the woman with wild purple hair disappeared into the night.
Killua just stood there for… what had to be an hour.
By the time he was finally able to move, the bodies were cold and starting to deflate.
The assassin climbed out of the carnage, and leapt back to the top of the tower of boxes.
He picked up the tiny body that lay there… and slipped back out.
Into the ink of the night.
…
A cold collection of trees on the far edge of an enormous city. Lichen hangs from them like skin off a corpse, the grass and leaves are grayish and polluted. The moon grins its eternal crescent grin in the sky, watching as a Dragonite Prince digs a hole with his bare hands.
His claws cut through the cold, hard ground like butter.
Six feet passes like a happening of glances.
A tiny body is embraced by the Earth, and a Cairn is erected over top the grave of a tiny victim of vengeance and despair.
The Prince stands over the grave, shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs.
He wasn't able to bury all of them.
They fell apart beneath his fingertips.
But in burying this one… he'll be burying all of them.
Every one that he killed on that fateful night, and every death to follow.
The silver haired assassin
Turns tail on the gravesite,
And disappears once more
Into the ink of the night.
…
Killua landed down on his balcony with a silent patter of his feet. He opened the sliding door, and walked silently into his room. He shut the door behind him, but tripped over his feet and accidentally slammed it.
But he couldn't bring himself to care.
He was shaking. His vision was blurry, he couldn't see–
Killua stumbled to the bathroom, barely managing to shut and lock the door before he was hurling his guts up into the toilet. He retched until there was nothing but empty acid and tensing of his stomach muscles.
He lay with his forehead on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat, finally able to breathe again.
But–
But Dayaamay would never breathe again–
He was retching emptily all over again.
Suddenly Killua was all too aware of the armor against his body. It was overstimulating, it was trapping him, suffocating him, it was melting his skin, his eyes were melting away in his skull and his blood was bubbling up out of his body–
Killua ripped the armor off, panting heavily but no matter how hard he breathed he couldn't get any air down–
Killua stumbled, black dots lining his vision.
He clawed at his panting throat.
The armor was gone, he was completely naked but the blood.
It was still on his hands, in his hair, under his nails.
Killua panted, breathing out every other second–
He was panicking–
He couldn't see–
He couldn't breathe–
His heart was fluttering in his chest and–
An image of Dayaamay's dead eyes flashed across his mind, and another wave of retching broke Killua out of his panicked state. He was able to breathe again, but now he was laying brokenly on the cold bathroom tiles.
Tears overflowed, and messy sobs wracked his body.
His wails echoed against the bathroom walls, and his snot clogged up his throat, choking him several times.
What had he done–
What the hell had he just done–
A knocking on the bathroom door.
"Killua?"
The assassin froze up, sobs stopping in their tracks and tears drying up.
It was Gon.
"Killua, what's going on? I heard you slamming around and now you're crying–"
"-It's nothing!" Killua choked out in a rush. His voice was too loud, it was aggressive, frantic, and raw from crying.
Gon was quiet on the other side of the door.
He jiggled the doorknob, only to find it locked.
"Killua, unlock the door."
The Valkyrie shook his head, and for some reason Gon realized he had.
"No, Killua, unlock the door," the hybrid's voice was calm and soothing… but, but–
"Gon, just leave me alone."
Killua didn't deserve Gon.
He was a fucking murderer.
If anything, he was a danger to Gon.
"He clearly pities you, that's the only explanation."
Killua swallowed hard, and sat up. He leaned his back against the door, curled up into a ball. He was trembling all over. He wanted to open that door, he wanted to rip it open and throw himself into Gon's chest crying–
"What would mother think if she knew you enlisted your friends' help to complete a simple job? Would Alluka be safe then?"
But…
"Because you are nothing but a dirty, disgusting, DEPLORABLE Valkyrie."
He couldn't do that.
"Killua…" Gon rattled the doorknob again, and Killua choked a sob.
Gods, he wanted that door to open.
His locking it minutes earlier was the only thing keeping Killua from melting into Gon like a lost child.
He heard Gon sigh and lean his forehead against the door. "Please?" he begged, voice thick with emotion and concern.
But he shouldn't be concerned, not for a creature like Killua.
He had no idea–
He had no idea–
The doorknob rattled as Gon released it from his grip. He breathed in to say something, then changed his mind and no words came. Killua listened to the padding of Gon's footsteps as they left his room, closing the door behind him and returning to his own bed.
Then Killua broke down.
He sobbed, he wailed, he screamed.
He scratched at his skin till it bled, he pulled at his hair so hard the skin lifted up from his skull.
He grieved and cried and moaned until he had no energy left at all.
Until he was nothing but an empty husk on the floor of the bathroom.
He weakly reached up to flip the light off, and then he collapsed back onto the floor.
Killua slept on the cold tiles that night.
He dreaded the next night with a passion.
When he would have to do this all over again.
He dreaded the embrace… of the ink of the night.
AN: ...that was so painful to write holy shit. I almost made myself cry :l my deepest apologies
i even wrote poetry at that one point there... like bruh
