Killua's soft breaths were the only sound in the room as he drifted to sleep, leaving Kurapika to ponder his recent realization. Killua rested on his side, an arm lazily covering half his face, his fair hair tousled endearingly.

But Kurapika wouldn't allow himself to stare too long, to let his heart swell with affection.

Killua had always been a flame burning in a dark tunnel, the dazzling zigzag of lightning in a sky painted with darkness.

And such a bright light didn't belong in the vengeful storm that was Kurapika's heart.

…

Killua opened his eyes at six that morning, completely alone and with a pounding head.

After dressing quickly, he headed to the kitchen and quirked an eyebrow. Kurapika was packing a neon pink lunch box with an octopus-shaped sandwich, apple slices, a string cheese, and a tiny juice box. Oh, and don't forget the napkins with barnyard animals printed all over them.

"Aren't her servants in charge of all this?"

Kurapika tilted his head to the side and . . . rolled his eyes? Maybe Killua was seeing things. "You would think so. But after all the failed assassination attempts, I prefer to pack her school lunch myself."

Kurapika grimaced as Killua spluttered. "You've gotta be kidding me. They really see her as a threat?"

Kurapika grabbed one of the napkins and scribbled something with a pen. "Tell that to the citizens of Kakin. They're wary of anyone who might try to steal Tserriednich's throne one day."

Killua stepped closer, leaning against the kitchen counter. "People can be cruel. Even to kids," he said softly.

They made eye contact, and a silent message passed between them. I know. Fate had struck both of them down with lightning as children, annihilating both Kurapika's clan and Killua's freedom.

Maybe he wanted to kiss Kurapika again because he was just another pretty thing that fascinated him. But maybe there was something more to it. Maybe no one else understood Killua as well as Kurapika did.

But it was a good thing that Kurapika had told him the truth last night, the truth that he held no romantic feelings for Killua whatsoever. If he hadn't, then Killua wouldn't have had the incentive to move on to better, more realistic things.

Kurapika's eyes flicked down to take in Killua's suit and tie. "I'm guessing you plan to go to the palace today."

"I agreed to it." Killua sighed at Kurapika's tense expression. "Maybe things will go better than we think they will."

"You think you're going to magically fall in love with one of the royal women." Kurapika sounded frustrated as he gripped Killua's shoulders. "It's not going to happen, and you know it." A strange glint shone in his eyes. "Go ahead and show up today, if that's what you promised your parents. But I won't let a single thing happen to you."

"Okay." Kurapika's words didn't fully register with him, but there was no point in getting him even more riled up. "Alright, I trust you to help however you can." He gave a smile that must have come across as genuine, since Kurapika's grip on him loosened.

Killua picked up the napkin that Kurapika had written on and read it aloud. "Enjoy your day - Love from Kurapika." Killua found himself laughing as Kurapika blushed in horror. "Can she even read yet?"

"It's - well, she knows the words 'from' and 'and,' " he said, and Killua laughed harder. He felt Kurapika's eyes on him the entire time. Mesmerized by his good looks, perhaps?

"It's really sweet of you. Some might even say it's . . . charming." Killua delivered his ultimate special attack - his devastatingly dreamy wink. Or at least, that was how one of his female admirers in Yorknew had referred to it.

Kurapika bit his lip and looked away. Killua grinned. "We should get going. Come on."

…..

"I can -" Woble gave a series of tiny coughs that aroused Killua's sympathy. "I can still go to school!"

Kurapika laid the back of his hand over Woble's forehead, which was peeking out from underneath the pale pink covers. He gave a tender smile, something reserved for her alone. "Not with a fever, you aren't. How about this? If you stay home and rest, I'll buy whatever toy you want."

Killua snorted. Her room was practically a toy store already. Mountains of teddy bears had been carelessly tossed about the room (Kurapika had mentioned that she was a bit of a tomboy), dolls in every type of gown imaginable lined the shelves, and Killua's assassin training had done little to prevent him from tripping over the dozen or so tricycles that were scattered all over the carpet. On top of that, he had good reason to believe Kurapika was responsible for buying at least half the toys in here.

"Does it have to be a toy?" Woble asked sweetly, a thumb in her mouth.

"Well, I suppose it could be candy as well -"

"I want a boyfriend!"

Killua nearly doubled over in laughter at Kurapika's stricken expression. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Bill's been letting you watch teenage sitcoms again, hasn't he? Oh, geez . . ."

"Nuh-uh!" Woble shook her head fervently, golden curls becoming ruffled. "I'm over Killua, so now I have to move on! Illumi told me that!"

It was like the air itself froze the moment Illumi's name was uttered.

Killua's heart thudded erratically as he exchanged glances with Kurapika. He knew that he must have felt the same sense of foreboding that he did, but Kurapika had never been one to let his emotions show on his face.

"You met someone named Illumi? When was this?" Kurapika spoke softly, careful not to alarm Woble.

"Just yesterday, as a matter of fact," came an emotionless voice from the door.

Illumi stepped in, an unidentifiable emotion swirling somewhere in the depths of his black eyes. He hadn't changed one bit in five years appearance-wise, except for the black suit and tie he donned. He was still tall with long dark hair and a blank expression, and he still made Killua and Kurapika tense up, ready for danger.

Illumi's eyes landed on Killua, but before either brother could say anything, Kurapika spoke coldly. "I'd like to have a word with you. Alone."

Illumi gazed at Kurapika, eyes unblinking, expression still blank.

Kurapika strode forward, the chains on his right hand clinking together as they began to unravel. "Fine. Let's talk here, if that's what you want."

"Killua's been staying with you, hasn't he?" Illumi sounded mildly interested. "Knowing him, that is rather concerning -"

Smack. Kurapika punched Illumi, and purplish skin began to swell around his eye.

But Illumi made no effort to fight back. He simply observed as Kurapika shook with rage, clutching his chains tightly. "What is it you had to say?"

"What you want isn't going to happen," Kurapika said through gritted teeth, and Killua stood in shock as his eyes glowed scarlet. "And you're to stay away from Woble." With those words, his irises radiated an even more vibrant shade. He was both bold and delicate, frightening yet stunning, in that single moment.

"Hmm?" Illumi tilted his head to the side. "I don't find that to be too reasonable. Woble is to become my niece very soon, after all." Illumi smiled, and it somehow made him seem less human than he already was. "Oh, and do take care to propose soon, or Tserriednich will start to believe the rumors about you, Kil."

….

Kurapika was far more shaken than Killua. Killua had convinced him to take a seat on one of the benches in the garden, and his head was buried in his arms.

"You didn't know, did you?" Kurapika sounded so distant, so chilling.

"No, of course not! Dad said they wanted to set me up with Fugetsu, not Oito." Killua clenched his fist. "Illumi must have seen some kind of potential in Woble. He must want her to be the heir after me." Killua swore under his breath. "And what's this about rumors?"

"I think I know." Kurapika lifted his head up and looked Killua in the eye. He explained how he'd told Woble not to tell anyone about the kiss, and Killua laughed. "Killua, this isn't funny."

He continued to laugh, pressing his palm into his forehead. He looked up, meeting Kurapika's gaze. "The two of us always get the short end of the stick, don't we? I might get the death penalty if Tserriednich suspects me of being gay, and you might lose Woble."

"Don't even say that. It's not going to -"

"Not going to happen? I mean, that remains to be seen, since you still haven't told me what your plan is yet."

Kurapika didn't meet his eyes. "You'll find out, sooner or later. It's best if you don't know."

There was no arguing with Kurapika when he got like this. Killua placed his hand over Kurapika's soft, slightly larger one. The only sound to be heard was the pattering of the water arcing across the fountain, and the sweet aromas of every flower imaginable filled the air.

Kurapika's smoky irises examined Killua's lips before settling on a patch of grass to his left. He pried his hand away from Killua's, his eyes downcast. "It's not safe to do that here. But even if it were, I already said I'm not interested."

"That's the biggest lie I've ever heard you say." But Kurapika made no effort to respond. Silence passed between them.

"I don't want to marry her. Not if it means Woble will suffer the same way I did." He thought of the electric shocks, the isolation, the jobs he'd been forced to carry out against his will.

"I know."

There was more Killua wanted to say, but he didn't.

…

They were completely alone.

Her hair was tied up in a bun, silky strands of hair framing the front of her face. She had pink lips and a rosy complexion, and her golden dress sparkled underneath the ballroom lights. Despite being thirty-two, she appeared no older than twenty-five.

And it was only now that it really hit Killua - he'd been foolish to think he would ever be able to fall in love with a woman. Oito was the picture of feminine beauty, with warm dark eyes and a kind smile, but he still felt nothing. He imagined it would have been the same with her stepdaughter, Fugetsu.

She sipped the tea that Bill had brought in for their meeting. "If Tserriednich has agreed to the match, then I'm afraid little can be done." She smiled wryly. "Few who go against him end up alive in the end."

Killua didn't know how to tell her what his family's intentions for Woble were. It was obvious no one had bothered to explain to her that he came from a family of assassins, not nobles.

"I know, but -" Killua's eyes widened, leaving his sentence unfinished.

Oito was clutching her throat, her face turning blue, and she fell onto the floor, coughing up blood.

In two seconds, she stilled, lying on her side, her eyes closed.

Killua didn't need to feel her pulse to know she was dead.