Hello! It's been a long time! Here's a Happy New Year to all of you!

Thanks for the support this fic has garnered and I hope I don't confuse you much with this chapter. I actually think scenarios in manga form and try to write it from there so transitions between scenes are quite...abrupt. Sorry bout that.

After bribing the boat captain to let him tag along, Ging sat on the roof of the captain's cabin, under the shadow of the sails. He observed the people on the ship. All the fishermen were experts in their trade, relying on skills gained through experience. None of them were really strong and any use in combat. If anyone were to raid the ship, they'd have no chance. To him, they all seem like a bunch of normal people.

Then the twelve-year old boy caught his eye again, prancing around asking questions of the crew who were all too happy to oblige him.

"He's been asking to come on the boat for a long while now. Look at him all excited. It's nice to see youths interested in this sort of thing. They don't seem to want to work hard to earn their keep anymore, with all those computer jobs and stuff. Not a job for a real man, I say," the captain spoke from the side of where he was sitting, taking a swig at a small silver canteen.

Ging slunked back down on his seat against a wall. "He's just twelve, right? Why did you allow him on a dangerous fishing trip? He could be killed," he asked, feigning interest. He's pretty certain on the answer, but there were pretenses he had to keep. Besides, he wanted to learn what others think of the boy.

"Ohoho…he's not just an ordinary boy!" the captain chuckled fondly, "You'd be amazed! He's really strong, even if he seems scrawny. He's famous over the whole island. Why, just the other day he captured The Master of the Swamp! Even five grown men can't even manage to land that monster. Would you believe it!? He's truly amazing, that small boy. I'm actually glad his stern aunt finally allowed him to go,"

Ging grimaced. That Mito never changed. He could almost hear her nagging him all the time about his reckless behavior. "Hmm…" he watched the boy pester another man carrying lobster traps. He was just asking and asking and asking. Ging smirked, pulling up his scarf over his face. He was just the same all those years ago.

Days passed quickly. Ging just sat on the roof of the captain's cabin, earning himself quite the mysterious reputation from the rest of the crew. Part of the bribe was the condition to leave him alone. He seemingly just slept all day, coming down only for food and toilet breaks. Only the captain talked to him, though sometimes he catches the boy looking at him and when he does, the boy would grin widely, wave at him and continue on his duties of helping anyone else with theirs. He was quite diligent and hard-working, and while looking like a klutz, he's actually meticulous about his tasks. He's a fast-learner, and fun to work with because he's always so eager.

On their fifth day out, the boy finally came up to him, waking him up to have dinner. It seems he had overslept. He rubbed his eyes, the boy was sitting crossed legged beside him with a tray of warm food in hand, waiting for him to take it. "Hi! I'm Gon! I brought you some food, mister…?"

Ging set the tray down, "My name is Nigg…just Nigg is fine," he tasted the hot chicken soup. It was down-right horrible, but still, food. So he bravely swallowed the stuff down. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the boy looking at him expectantly, fingers drumming on his thigh. "What?"

"How is it?" Gon asked. "The soup,"

"…eh." He shrugged nonchalantly, continuing to eat, "Would have killed a lesser man," the drumming stopped, and Ging cautiously glanced at the boy and panicked, "Wha-?"

The boy looked at him with teary eyes, biting down on his lip, "D-did you make this?" Ging asked. The boy nodded. "It's…okay!" the boy instantly cheered up, Ging could imagine a tail wagging behind him.

"Really?!" Sparkly. So sparkly. This kid's a dope.

Ging nodded, spooning more soup into his mouth. It refused to go down but he tried his best to keep it from coming back up. Tears welled in his eyes. He usually ate alone, which was more because of his shy nature. He was glad it was dark.

"I didn't notice you go down to get food so I thought to bring you some. But the crew ate all of it, and the cook seemed tired already, so I tried to make you a new one. It's only from a can, though. I just reheated it," the boy explained.

Ging narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Maybe it just tasted horrible because the soup is expired (in truth, it wasn't) and the boy didn't notice. Yeah, that must be it. It takes a special kind of idiot to screw up simple reheating instructions.

He sensed the boy relaxing, straightening his legs and leaning his back on the wall beside Ging. The older man set down his empty bowl, followed by washing it down with cold water. He swears he'd never be late for meal times again. "Thanks for the meal, boy,"

"You're welcome!" Gon grinned.

This was followed by a long stretch of silence with Ging awkwardly settling down on his back with his arms under his head, looking up at the stars and Gon following suit, a mere two feet beside him. He wondered why the boy wouldn't go away. It was quite uncomfortable, lying so close to the son he left all those years ago. It seemed surreal even. "Aren't you gonna go back inside?" Ging asked, trying not to sound dismissive.

The boy instantly sat up, looking apologetic, "I'm sorry. I was wondering why you liked this place so much," he scratched his cheek awkwardly, "The stars look great and it isn't as noisy as the crew's cabin. They all snore really loud," he moved to stand up, gathering the tray.

Ging sighed. "You can stay if you want," the tray was immediately set down again and the boy resumed his previous position, "…I...don't mind,"

"Thanks! Because I really, really wanted to talk to you!" Ging froze. Did he-? No way.

"About what?"

"Hmm…" the boy hummed in contemplation, "Why did you join this trip? You don't seem interested at all,"

Ging relaxed again. "Thought it would make for a nice little break from my job," aside from getting away from a brat who won't stop pestering me all day, "What about you? Did you want to be a fisherman?"

There was a pause before the boy shook his head, "It's really fun. I like it," he answered, "But I don't think this is it. How about you, Nigg-san? What's your job?"

"Whatever I want," which is pretty much the truth, "I do favors from time to time," like training a certain brat and maybe one of these days he could start teaching him some manners, "Nothing set in stone, really," he doesn't remember the job description. He's the Head Butler, apparently, and for some reason, everybody respects that, no matter how many lectures he gets from Gotoh every single day.

"Sounds nice," Gon said wistfully, "At home, they all want me as an apprentice so I get around a lot. They're all so nice to me,"

Ging crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow, "But?"

Gon tilted his head in confusion, "But what?"

Ging looked at him in silence for a moment before shaking his head, "Nothing, don't mind me. Go get some sleep," maybe he's just over-thinking it. But he thought there was something more to that sentence that was left unsaid. He settled on his back, staring at the stars. It took a few moments for the boy to listen to what he said, lying on his side a few feet from him.

"Good night, Nigg-san," Gon yawned.

"Yeah, 'night,"

The next night, disaster struck.

It was a stormy night, the boat rocked sharply as the waves tossed violently against the sides. Ging stayed with the captain inside the navigation room. The rest of the crew were below deck, probably asleep in their hammocks, seemingly used to being caught in bad weather. All of a sudden, there was a loud cracking sound and the boat lurched forward unnaturally, as if they hit something. Then came the blood-curling howl. Ging jumped to his feet, rushing out of the room and onto the deck.

Large red eyes turned to him from the darkness. "Well…" he mused to himself, "That's quite the large octopus," its head was larger than the ship. A huge tentacle, almost as thick as the mast, suddenly struck at him, which he just easily side-stepped before chopping it off by concentrating some of his aura on his hand. The monster howled in pain, withdrawing its limbs. "I'm too lazy to play with you right now,"

A siren sounded throughout the ship and within a minute, the crew were all running out of the cabin, weapons at the ready. Ging casually stepped out of their way. Seeing as none of them seemed the least bit scared, he just let them do what they have to. He's not there to interfere with their jobs anyway, he's made that pretty clear since the start of the trip. Where's that kid?

Then there was an angry yell from the deck and he raised an eyebrow as a huge amount of aura emanated from the boy. Everyone around him fell to their knees from the pressure. He brought out his aura out of sheer desperation.

He watched the boy jump at the monster, clasp his hands together and bring it down with all his might at the junction between its eyes. The monster gave out another howl and slowly slunk back into the ocean and out of sight, causing a huge wave to fall onto the deck, washing away the destruction, including the boy. The men nearby scrambled to their feet as they tried to make a grab for the unconscious boy but they didn't reach in time and Gon slipped off the side of the boat and into the tempest-tossed water.

"Gon!" a crew member called out and suddenly he looked up and there was a man standing on the railing, busily tying a rope around his waist, "Huh?"

"Hold this for me," Ging dropped the other end of the rope at the bewildered man before jumping into the raging sea. Why can't I just take a break from looking after troublesome kids?

The sound of the rain roared in his ears as he stared in apprehension at the figure slowly melting from the pitch darkness. He could feel the cold seeping through his hair down his clothes, making him feel numb all over. His sneakers dug into the softened ground and he took a small step back. He felt like running but he knew it would be no use.

His brother was already standing a few meters from him, looking at him with those dead fish eyes Killua doesn't know where he got. But no matter, Illumi was always the last person he wanted to see.

Killua gritted his teeth and reluctantly straightened up, clenching his fists on his sides, looking sideways to the ground. He could feel Illumi's gaze boring down on him. "When did you get back?" he asked.

Illumi crossed his arms, "Just this morning. Thought I'd wait for you at the gate. Mother did say I should talk to you as soon as possible."

Realization dawned on Killua so fast he almost didn't manage to control his horror. He turned to face Illumi with as neutral an expression as he could put on, "That pin Gon was struck with…was it from you?"

Illumi raised an eyebrow, then as if just remembering what Killua was talking about, raised a finger, "Oh, that! Well, I thought letting intruders escape with their lives, given the vendetta they have against the family, is a job poorly done on his part, don't you think so? Some punishment had to be in order, that's all."

Illumi watched as his little brother's façade slowly cracked, not that Illumi thought Killua had been calm the whole time, "Leave Gon alone. He didn't do anything wrong!" the silver haired Zoldyck almost yelled at him, hands morphing back into claws at his sides out of instinct. He immediately decided he did not like how much emotion his little brother had been showing since that morning.

The raven pretended to put on a thoughtful expression. He was almost behind Killua, and he could clearly see the slight tremble in his little brother's frame. It seems his little brother needs to be thought another line lesson about keeping in line. "Why are you defending a mere servant? You never batted an eye when you killed so many before…"

In the depths of his mind, Killua could hear the pitiful pained whines and the sharp cracking of bones from a distant memory.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

His nails dug harder into his palms that it bled, but he didn't notice. He was too busy trying to remind himself to breathe, to keep his distress from showing, to keep the fear out of his voice.

But it was getting harder as the whines and cracking sounds in his head grew louder by the second.

"…don't…" his voice cracked a little, so he tried again, "Just don't…It's all my fault…" and that's the truth. It was just him that's wrong, "I'm the one who wanted…"

Illumi stopped in his tracks. He was on Killua's left side now and he could clearly see the struggle in his brother's stance. His eyes were wide and wild, a forced grimace on his lips. He decided it wouldn't take much now. Killua's slipping. "Did I hear that right? You wanted?"

Killua turned his head towards him with a visibly horrified expression that almost made Illumi laugh if only he was capable of such an act. He could see his little brother's lips struggling to string some words but before his wits could work for him, Illumi cut to the chase.

He released a bit of his aura, the type he knew Killua was familiar with. He knew Killua would associate it with his memories of Illumi training him when they were young, judging from the way Killua seemed to fold onto himself slightly despite staying on his feet, nails no longer digging into his palms

"Kil, you don't want anything or wish for anything. As one who lives in the shadows, you can only feel pleasure when people die. That's how you were raised." Illumi tilted his head slightly to the side, "Or is it that you want to kill him yourself?" he asked.

The answer came out instantaneously and it irked him a bit, "No!" Killua blurted out then tore his gaze away from Illumi immediately, "…never…Gon is..." his voice gradually lost its strength, "I'd never hurt him." He whispered almost to himself.

Illumi pursed his lips nonchalantly, "Really…that's no good." He moved a bit closer to Killua and forced him to meet his eyes by standing in front of him silently for a few minutes until Killua turned reluctantly, "Tell me what he is to you, then,"

That seemed to do the trick, was what Illumi thought as he was treated to Killua's slack-jawed expression, one he hadn't seen in quite a while. If he remembered correctly, it was also raining heavily the last time he saw his little brother react like this. How ironic for the father and son to elicit the same reaction.

Illumi waited for a while before walking away, "Okay, I'll kill Gon!" he declared with a small wave at his little brother over his shoulder.

"Please wait!" Illumi looked at the hand gripping his sleeve, to Killua standing with his head bowed, breathing heavily through his mouth like he'd exerted himself too much just deigning to touch Illumi.

Illumi turned around to face his brother, making Killua drop his grip. Illumi watched silently as Killua wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and the slight redness of those eyes did not escape him despite the darkness. He did not really like where this is going.

"Oh, Kil…" he placed a hand on top of Killua's head which earned him a small gasp, "You'll have to kill me if you want to save Gon."

Killua froze.

Illumi bent his knees until he was level with Killua's gaze, "Will you fight me for his sake?"

And there it was again, the fear.

"You can't do it. Because you're more worried about whether or not you can defeat me. And you already have your answer: I'm not strong enough to defeat my brother. Never fight an enemy you can't beat. I drilled that into you."

Illumi then held his brother's face in his hands, looking into his eyes, those eyes that were slowly losing their vibrancy. "You don't have the right to make friends. Nor do you need friends. You should just listen to me and do your job as you always had."

His brother remained frozen staring at the ground after Illumi had let him go and started walking away. With one last glance, Illumi looked at Killua over his shoulder, "I won't kill him. I just wanted to remind you how easily people could die,"

His brother visibly tensed again.

"Kil, you know better than I do that you aren't qualified to be his friend," Illumi said as he blended into the darkness.

It all started when, one afternoon, he pestered Ging to teach him something cool. He was eight at that time, and all he had was time on his hands. Seeing that all he ever saw Ging doing was slacking off on the job- surely sleeping and fishing all the time wasn't part of Ging's duties as the head butler-, he just thought it might be a better use of time to have the old man show him some legitimate skills. His father always held Ging in the highest regards and would tell Killua that Ging was one of the greatest Hunters in the world.

Why someone presumed so great was spending all his time sleeping, fishing and drinking, the child would never know.

He found Ging sleeping under the shade of an orange tree. The old man probably fell asleep after having lunch, judging from the small mountain of orange peels beside him.

"I'm busy. Go away, brat." Ging drawled lazily, pulling down his cloth hat to cover his eyes. He turned to his other side to further emphasize his point and promptly tried going back to sleep.

It was late in the afternoon and it had been a really long day. Ging had just spent a whole day trapped in Tsubone's day-off ideas of relaxation and barely managed to sneak away after switching places with an unsuspecting Gotoh who had just come back from the Zoldyck's mansion.

It might be prudent to not come back to the butler's mansion until the next week. Maybe the old woman would be done with knitting quilts by then.

The eight year old snorted in disdain at the older man's dismissal. Picking up small rocks, he pelted the sleeping man until the latter was forced to sit up and glare at him. "You said you'd teach me something cool! Get on with it, old man!"

In all honesty, Ging never exactly told him anything of the sort. But his father did say that he could learn a thing or two from Ging.

Ging narrowed his eyes at the white haired child, and was met with an equal glare until Ging rolled his eyes and laid back down. "I never said I'd teach you anything, much less anything 'cool'. That would be a damn waste of my time on a disrespectful twerp such as you."

Killua grit his teeth, threw a bigger rock aimed at Ging's head which was just effortlessly swatted away without even looking, and walked off into the forest, deciding to find something to vent his frustrations on.

He did not notice he had already walked into a foxbear territory until he heard some growling a few meters from him. He could see the towering creature on its hunches, sharp canines and claws bared at him. Killua smirked, morphing his left hand into claws and stepping closer to the beast. Maybe fighting an angry beast could make his afternoon a bit more eventful.

Killua lunged at the creature. It was strong and a bit agile for its size, but it was no match for the little assassin. Within a few minutes, Killua was peering down at the bloodied carcass of the beast, wiping the blood on his now back to normal hand on his shorts.

That was when he noticed Ging standing a few feet from them, looking horrified, worried, angry and honestly, the child couldn't tell. It was the first time he saw Ging look not so bored. Killua was confused. Did Ging run all the way here because he thought Killua couldn't handle a foxbear on his own? That was laughable, but hey, Ging had never shown some concern before when Killua was in danger…most of the time, it was actually Ging who puts him in danger. Killua threw him a grin.

Ging clamped his mouth shut and walked towards him. Killua laughed. "So, finally got you awake, huh, old m-," he did not finish his sentence when Ging struck him on the cheek. The child's eyes widened as the sharp pain registered and his cheek stung and reddened. Ging's eyes were so cold it was as if a bucket of ice water was poured over Killua's head.

"Why?" Ging asked in a firm voice.

"Why what?" Killua answered back, a hand trying to soothe his stinging cheek. He was confused and growing angry at Ging. What did he hit him for?

"Why did you kill it?"

"It was growling and looked like it would attack me,"

"Then why didn't you just run, you dumb brat?! You're fast enough!" Ging lashed at him.

Killua narrowed his eyes, unsure why Ging was making a big deal out of this, "I was bored, okay?! I wanted to do something fun! So I figured killing it would be fun!" Seriously, if he's that worried, he should show it better than scolding him.

Killua watched as Ging's expression hardened and he could no longer read him. Was he angry still? Or was the answer Killua provided enough to calm him down already? "So it was just for fun?" Ging's voice sounded like he had given up. Good, Killua thought.

Killua crossed his arms in front of him and tapped his foot impatiently, "Tch. This wouldn't happen if you just taught me something. It's your fault-," he closed his mouth when Ging just walked past him and into the foxbear's den. "Hey, what-," Ging was walking out with a furry little creature in his hand and a relieved expression on his face. "What's that?"

Ging rubbed the back of the slumbering creature with a gentle hand, "It was just born a month ago, can't even eat on its own yet" he said with an even gentler expression that made Killua embarrassed to look at him too long…and maybe a tad bit envious.

"W-well, better kill that, too. Babies can't survive by themselves, right?"

He heard Ging sigh before something warm and soft was placed on top of his head. Killua looked at him in confusion as he picked up the cub and held it in front of his face, "What do you expect me to do with it?"

"Since you want to be taught a lesson so much, then I'll give you this one: a lesson in responsibility. Go take care of that cub. Make sure it survives and learns to live in the forest. Shouldn't be too difficult for you," Ging informed him.

Killua snarled at him, pushing the cub back to Ging, "What the hell?! I don't have time for that!"

Ging had the gall to sneer at him, "What? It's so simple. Or is it too much to handle already? Oh, well, it was pretty obvious for a brat to be unable to take care of another brat." Ging looked so unimpressed at him, so much it really pissed off the eight year old whenever he does that.

"Fine! I'd take care of him!" he declared, determined to show up the old man. "I can do this!"

It was a whole lot of hardship.

King (Ging was the one who named him-Killua thought he was just lazy) was a month old male foxbear with no skills yet whatsoever, aside from moving himself around and whining. He had to learn how to hunt for food, to get a sense of the forest around and, according to Ging, to live like the 'King of the Forest because that's what Foxbears do' as he put it.

It shouldn't have been too difficult to demonstrate and have the mini animal mimic him if not for the apparent contempt it had for him. King wouldn't allow Killua to touch him once Killlua had put him down that first time and had since taken to snarling and ignoring him most of the time. The eight-year-old's patience was wearing thin just on the first day that the animal refused to follow him and just stayed beside the burial mound Ging made for its mother.

"Let's get going. Come on, King," the little boy beckoned to the curled up animal.

King had refused to budge from his spot for the last two days and Killua could see the effects of starvation on the animal. It was weakening and would definitely not last for another two days. Ging had gone by once a few hours before and gave them a long look before going on his way and not returning since.

"King, eat this. And drink this," he pushed a lump of meat from a deer he hunted early that morning and a half-coconut shell of freshwater. He was supposed to teach him to hunt for food and drink from the river and not offer him food as easily as this. But the animal did not move, and whined a bit when Killua prodded, baring small harmless fangs when it was annoyed enough.

It must hate him a lot, the child thought. He wondered if it was because the cub is aware that he was the one who killed its mother. It was making sounds again, and Killua realized, it still sounded a bit like crying.

Was the cub crying because of his mother? Just because she was dead?

He can't remember how many targets he had killed that past month alone. Those people's families…are they also crying? Were they also like this for the people Killua killed?

At that thought, he felt something lie heavily on his heart. He looked down at the place where his heart was beating. It hurt. He placed a hand above his heart and squeezed. The pain still wouldn't go away.

"Hey," he sat beside the animal and hugged his knees, hand still at his heart, looking at the mound of earth before them. "Ging said that you should go back to your den at night,"

It was gradually getting darker and colder and it felt like it would start raining soon. "If you get wet at night, you'll get a cold. Take cover at the den, King," he ordered again. The wind blew and Killua suppressed a shiver as he pulled his hood to cover his head. "Listen to me,"

There was another cold breeze and Killua shivered. He glanced at the tiny creature curled beside him. It gave a small pitiful yelp before becoming eerily still. Killua was alarmed. He jumped to his feet and rushed to touch the animal. It did not resist. He could feel a faint heartbeat but the animal was slowly losing warmth.

Without a second thought, Killua took off his hoodie, wrapped the animal in it and took off in the direction of the butlers' mansion with King safely tucked in his arms.

Killua could still remember how anxious his young self had been as he carried that young animal to get help. He clutched his head as the memory of his own words echoed in his head.

That child. That stupid child who kicked down the door and pleaded for Ging, of all people, because the animal was dying and Killua doesn't know what to do.

"Please, help me, Ging. He's really cold. Please, do something,"

It must have surprised Ging and the butlers that he actually knew how to say 'Please' because they had stared at him for a good minute before Gotoh moved and took the bundled up animal from his arms and disappeared into the next room.

He had stood there silently until he felt Canary dabbing a handkerchief at his cheek and smiling warmly down at him.

That's when he realized why they were staring. Killua had been pleading with tears rolling down his cheeks.

It was embarrassing, to say the least. And it became even more embarrassing when Ging ruffled his hair and laughed heartily despite the reprimanding looks he was getting from everyone else in the vicinity. Then he abruptly stopped and asked everyone to leave the room for a while.

When they were left alone, except, not really because he could see the butlers peeking through the cracks in the doors, Ging sat down on the floor in front of him and smirked, "Mind telling me what that-," Ging pointed at his eyes, "-is all about?"

That time, he did not know what to say. He knew he was sad, but he did not know what the salty liquid coming from his eyes was about. He wasn't even aware it could do that.

"Don't you know?" Ging had asked. Killua had shaken his head.

Ging had grinned at him then, "Those are tears, Killua. You were crying just then. People do that when they feel an extreme emotion, such as sadness and joy. So what is that about, Killua?"

He had lowered his head then as he told Ging the events that happened before he came to the mansion. About King ignoring him and not eating. About King whining and crying. How he was wondering about the people left behind by the people he had killed. "And then, this started to really hurt a lot." The boy placed his hand in front of his heart, "No matter what I do, it wouldn't go away,"

He had looked up to see Ging with one of his eyebrows raised, urging him to continue.

"It feels…heavy," he finished.

"I see," Ging placed a hand on his shoulder, "Have you apologized to King yet?"

He must have looked like he's drawing a blank again when Ging just sighed and cursed Killua's dad, "Sorry. You say 'sorry'. Whenever you feel like that," Ging tapped a finger at Killua's heart, "it means you have done something you feel bad for,"

"I feel bad for killing those people?"

Ging crossed his arms, "…for now, let's just say you're feeling bad for King. So that means you have to apologize to him. And there are certain rules when you apologize to someone,"

The head butler held up one finger, "'What do I do next?' You make a promise with them about that. Then you make sure you honor that promise!"

He was an impressionable child back then. He soaked up every bit of Ging's words like it's the only truth in the world. He was naïve when it came to Ging and he had smiled when he said a small, "Okay!" as the scenarios ran through his head of what he would promise to King once he apologizes.

Looking back, fifteen-year-old Killua wanted to strangle himself for believing that such a single word could change his mistakes. It certainly didn't change him and it certainly didn't save King.

Ging had been there when he ran to the small pillow where the butlers had placed King and apologized to the weakened animal. "I'm sorry I killed your mother, King. I promise I'd be the one to take care of you from now on,"

For the next few days that King was recuperating at the mansion, Killua tried his best to get him to eat. When he still wouldn't eat anything Killua presented, he would let Canary feed him but Killua would always be within the room. It took four days before King gave in and took a bite from the meat Killua held out and another day for King to let Killua actually touch him. By the time a week had passed, King could sleep in Killua's lap.

It was then that Ging had them kicked out of the mansion and ordered again to teach King how to live in the forest on his own. Killua continued to follow through on his promise to King. He taught him how to hunt, to search for water, to find and build his own shelter. It was hard work and took a lot of patience, but little by little, Killua found himself having fun spending time with the animal.

"Well…I did say your friends would have to be kind of special," Ging said as he took a bite of the skinned rabbit Killua had been roasting for himself over a fire near King's den. Killua was watching King eat a rabbit the animal had chased on his own that afternoon. After stomping on Ging's feet for stealing his dinner, Killua reclaimed his food and sat down in front of the fire.

"This is what having a friend is?"

Ging placed another skinned rabbit on the fire, "Yeah…taking care of them, making sure they are keeping themselves alive, among other things…hmmm. They're actually a lot of trouble and really exhausting." He laughed. And indeed, Killua was actually tired as hell already by then. "And you still keep them, anyway,"

Killua had a feeling he knew why a person would do so much for a friend, "It makes one happy, right?"

The old man smiled at him, "Because you love them, yes,"

Back then, Killua didn't understand what love really is. But whatever it is, it must hold true as long as he was taking care of King.

Until Illumi arrived.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

He'd never forget the sound of King's skull as it was squashed under his brother's foot and the cries he made as he suffered the agony of dying.

And that the image of Killua leaving him behind might be the last thing King ever saw before his beady black little eyes popped out of their sockets.

He swore he'd never take care of anybody else ever again.

Then a year ago, Ging told him, "He's a lot of trouble. I'm sure that when you meet him, you'd end up taking care of him."

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Gotoh gently placed the phone down as the person on the other end slammed it. Well, Milluki had never been pleasant conversation ever. The butler took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. There was a storm raging outside, as it had been for the last couple of days. Gon and Canary, who were stationed outside, had been cooped up in the butlers' mansion for the duration of the storm, only to be called out if someone was stupid enough to actually attack the estate. So far, none had tried.

Last time Gotoh had checked before he answered the phone, Gon, Canary and Amane were playing a board game in the living room along with the younger apprentices. Hishita was in the kitchen making them snacks and Tsubone was helping him.

Just my luck, Gotoh thought. It was fortunate that all the toughest fighters among the butlers were currently inside the mansion. And Gon had been rested properly following the attack on him a few days before.

The fifteen year old spritely young butler had woken up from what he deemed was a comfortable sleep early the next day of the attack much to the relief of the butlers. There were truly no other side effects and overall, Gon was in perfect condition. Of course, the teen had immediately asked where Killua went and didn't fuss much when told that their young master had gone back home.

It's been three days since Gon had woken up and just a few moments ago, Gotoh was informed by a very angry Milluki that, apparently, Killua is yet to show up at the main Zoldyck mansion and Kikyou is giving everyone else hell for it.

A search order was issued since Killua is surely still within the estate. And with the weather outside, and the one person their young master actually really liked still inside the butlers' mansion and very much wondering why Killua's taking too long to come back from his house, Gotoh assumed it was one of those days. Those very, very bad days.

With a sigh, Gotoh buzzed for the intercom to the kitchen, "Hishita,"

"Yes, Gotoh-san? Sorry, the kids ate all the mont blanc already," came Hishita's voice on the other line. He could faintly hear the sound of the younger butlers arguing over the last piece of creme brulee in the background and Gon seemed to be winning with the words, "Killua could come back any minute now and he will kill me if I don't save him even one. He actually bit me for snatching one of his truffles when we were stuck in traffic coming back from the town, you know!"

"Liar. I did not see any bite mark. So just where did he bite you?" came Amane's voice.

"Amane, stop teasing. Look, you made Gon-kun blush," Canary reprimanded in a not-so convincing tone.

Gotoh allowed himself a small smile, "Hishita, bring everyone to my office. I have a mission for all of you,"

"Killua!"

It felt like twilight when he called his name.

Like a blind man who regained his sight, everything was suddenly too vivid. Much too vivid.

The raindrops pouring from the sky. The blood running down his arms. The heart beating in his hand.

The body that locked him in an embrace. The head that rested on his shoulder.

"…G-Ging?"

Ging's blood running down his arms. Ging's heart beating in his hand. Ging's loosening grip at the shirt on his back.

His hand. Killua's hand. Stuck in Ging's chest. He hurriedly pulled it out and more blood gushed out.

"Ging!" he hurried to catch Ging as he fell, holding him close, gripping him tight. "I'm sorry, Ging! I'm sorry!"

But Ging did not forgive him. Would never forgive him. And as he felt Ging's last breath against his neck, his tears started falling.

It was cold. So cold.

…

Ging is dead?

Somebody save him.

PLEASE, save him.

Somebody help.

Ging is dead.

Ging is dead.

GING IS DEAD.

…

…

…

I KILLED HIM!

...

...

...

Killua curled tighter into himself as the wind howled louder. He could see Ging standing in front of him, grinning like he always did when they were happier. He shut his eyes and buried his face in his arms, sobbing.

"...help...me."

Again, tell me what you think! Cheerios!