Take my picture and then you laugh

But I hate the way I look in photographs

Keep your memories, but don't live the past

I'm looking forward to the best days we will have

~"Boxes," Goo Goo Dolls


Hisoka couldn't even finish the coffee Illumi brought him. His stomach stung and his head throbbed, feeling as if his skull was grinding down against his spine. He gripped the sheets as if he could strangle them.

His entire life he'd spent fighting to get what he wanted. He enjoyed the struggle more than anything. But this—this—he had no idea how to handle. Illumi didn't seem to care. But he had to. He did. That was part of what Hisoka enjoyed about Illumi—that there was so much under the surface of his skin.

I want you to care, goddammit!

But why? It was all fake.

No, it wasn't.

Hisoka cussed and got to his feet. He marched up the stairs towards the attic. Chrollo sat between an antique desk and a silk windowseat, half-asleep. His eyebrows arched when he saw Hisoka.

"For the record," Hisoka said. "Tserriednich attempted to blackmail me with those photos of me kissing that girl. He wanted access to Oito."

Chrollo pushed himself to his feet. "And you didn't do it?"

"It was fake dating anyways."

"Doesn't always work out like you think, does it?" asked Chrollo, leaning back against the wall. "I tried the same thing last year."

"I know," Hisoka said. "You just picked the wrong person. I really never thought of you as anything but a friend with benefits, though."

"I know," Chrollo echoed. He looked out the window. "I'll watch my back. Thanks for warning me about Tserriednich."

He turned to leave.

"Hey Hisoka," called Chrollo.

"What?"

"You picked the wrong person, too."

In a different sense. Hisoka jogged down the stairs and headed towards campus. He did not like Chrollo being right. Then again…

We're too alike.

Hisoka cussed, picking up a pebble and hurling it at a nearby tree. It clacked against the bark and bounced off. The tree's branches didn't even shudder, but it left a scratch on the wood.

"Break up?" called a voice.

Hisoka turned around. The woman with two scars over her face stood at the entrance to campus, almost as if she was waiting like a creeper. "We weren't dating."

"Sure." She shrugged. "No difference to me."

"Why are you stalking me? Was it that good?" The joke tasted sour on Hisoka's lips. He scowled.

"No, on the contrary. I hate Tserriednich. And I thought you should know." She folded her arms. "He gave me access to Nasubi in exchange for kissing you. I'm going to bring down that prick professor. And Tserriednich won't stop."

"Get a new boyfriend."

"He's my brother."

"Jesus Christ."

"Illegitimate," she said, pointing at herself. "Morena Prudo. Nasubi scarred my face years ago."

"Your parents could give the Zoldycks a run for their money then," Hisoka said.

"And you?" she asked. "You don't have parents, do you? For all you know, maybe you've slept with a sibling, because you were surely a mistake so who's to say they don't have other mistakes?"

"You have a mind even more twisted than mine, and I'm not amused," Hisoka stated. "And mistakes are fun. They are—"

"Well good, because you make a lot of them." She smirked. "You're worthless."

"At least I'm fun." He pushed past her. She was getting old really fast and he didn't have time to waste on her.

"Are you?" she called after him. "Or are you just someone Illumi will surely forget about and move on from? You want people to move on, and yet you want to be everyone's god, because they can never predict you and you do what you want on whatever whim strikes your fancy. You want to surprise people because you're the one who gets to play with them, because you really do think you matter, or you're desperate to at any rate. You think you're the only one that matters, you're the pinnacle, all because you know you're not and you're grasping onto any and every experience for your dick to make you feel like you aren't shit. You are just like Tserriednich, just like Chrollo, just like Illumi, even. None of you are as special as you think you are. You're just trash, like me."

Hisoka whirled around. His heart thudded in his chest. "Who the fuck are you?"

Her eyes glittered. "I'm going to make Nasubi pay and his entire family with him. Tserriednich is smart but I'm smarter. Considering Tserriednich's current unrequited lust for Kurapika and Oito he's settled on Chrollo as a target. It didn't take me long to gather information on all of you in that house."

Hisoka ignored her. He marched off. The library, brick and covered in ivy, loomed ahead.

"Hisoka," came another voice. Hisoka groaned as he turned to the side. Gon Freecss sat on a bench, knees tucked into his chest.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Hisoka asked.

"We're just friends!" Gon scowled. "Visiting his brother. The one who isn't a control freak."

"And you went to see your dad, and he wouldn't see you," Hisoka stated.

Gon rested his chin on his knees. "He's busy."

"He doesn't care about you," said Hisoka. "He's too busy having fun." Which for Ging Freecss was probably writing papers about how great his discoveries were or grading papers. Dull but whatever got him off. Gathering experience for himself at the expense of his son. But that's what everyone did, right? Stole from others to provide for themselves. That was what living was.

Gon's eyes flashed. "Why are you so mean?"

"It's true," Hisoka said, trying to purge the poison from that woman out of his system. It wound through him, nauseating him. He felt tired.

"No one cares about you, either," Gon informed him.

Hisoka snorted. He did like this kid. He reminded Hisoka of a younger him, except Gon had a father figure to chase after. But no matter how he waved, no one would notice. "Bold of you when you don't know me."

I made sure everyone I chased would remember me, at least.

That's what I wanted. To be a memory. Unforgettable.

I wanted the unforgettable.

Gon dropped his legs, staring up at Hisoka. "Kalluto already texted Killua you and Illumi broke up. Illumi was crying."

"Illumi's cried over Killua too." Well, not literally. Internally. "He's lost a lot of sleep over it. So why aren't you yelling at your friend?"

"Because Illumi's not safe for him to be around?" Gon glared. "He's afraid of him! And his parents are going to put them through a trial and Mito and I might not be able to have him stay with us anymore and then both him and Alluka will get hurt again!"

"Illumi loves his brother," Hisoka said.

"You can love someone and they can still be bad for you!"

"Exactly," said Hisoka, peering into Gon's eyes.

Gon paled. He glanced sideways, towards the building the housed Ging's office.

And Hisoka felt no better for it.

As Gon walked away, he couldn't shake the thought that he, Hisoka, was bad for Illumi, and he couldn't understand why that bothered him.

I want to experience you. And keep experiencing you. In other ways. In lots of ways, not just as a fuck buddy.

Fuck.


Illumi tried to study, but his brain kept misfiring. Fucking Hisoka. He'd really ruined everything.

"Illu-nii?" asked Kalluto. "If Killua came back, but we couldn't go home with Mom and Dad, would that be okay?"

Illumi clutched his pen so tightened it jabbed into his thumb. He dropped it, turning around. "I'd rather we were all together."

I want a family.

I want a full family. A whole one.

But they would never accept Alluka. And Killua would never accept life without her.

"If you love your brother, Illumi, you'll protect him," Mom told him, clutching his chin so tightly it would leave bruises.

He used to tuck Killua in at night, and when Alluka started acting out, he—he—

I just wanted to keep you safe.

No.

"I want to be with him," Kalluto said sadly. "I used to have fun. With him and Alluka too."

I want—to be with him, too.

I don't want to be alone. I've always been alone.

A knock sounded on the door. Kalluto opened it to find Feitan and Chrollo there, Feitan looking grumpy. "You okay, kid?"

Kalluto nodded.

"If you want me to quiz you later, lemme know," Feitan said, sticking his hands in his pockets. He turned and headed down the stairs.

"Hey," said Chrollo.

"Are you going to kick me out?" Illumi asked, tilting his head up. "If so, I urge—"

"No," said Chrollo. "Not at all. I'm not—any better. I did the same thing with Kurapika." He stepped inside and closed the door. Kalluto looked up at him with the same kind of look Killua used to look at Illumi with. Light, and hope.

When did that start to fade?

Illumi couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen on his brother's face. What if the trial works, and we get Killua back? If he hates us? Can we convince him not to?

He didn't know anymore. He was weak, he was pathetic, he couldn't even obey his own instructions not to care about his fake boyfriend. He was really bad at faking things. And he was bad at being wanted. Maybe because he was worthless. Maybe because it was inherent, because there was no hope.

I can't convince him.

I could only ever convince him to hate me.

"What about Hisoka?" he managed.

"He's fine too. We deal with each others' antics. We're similar in many ways and different in others." Chrollo shrugged. "You and him, and you and me, as well."

Illumi scowled. He did not like the comparison. But—

You don't want to be alone, either.

Kalluto's words about his place, these people, echoed. You have a family.

Me?

Am I a part of that?

And you and Hisoka still hurt each other, but you—

Illumi folded his hands together, hunching his shoulders. "Doesn't it bother you, that Hisoka and I were trying to—"

"Yes, but I didn't act better," Chrollo said. A strange look filtered through his face. Illumi tilted his head, studying Chrollo. Killua—

Chrollo left, and Illumi turned to Kalluto. "I hurt you growing up, didn't I?"

"You only did it to keep Mom and Dad from—it helped us learn, but nicer—" Kalluto started.

That's a yes. Illumi's stomach churned. He doubled over, clenching his fists. His knuckles popped.

"Not that they weren't nice," Kalluto added quickly, as if he was afraid.

You really like it here.

If I stay, I'll lose Killua forever, won't I?

If I fight for our parents, I've already lost him.

No, I've already lost him anyways. Illumi felt like screaming. He doubled over.

I want him back! He wanted to rewind time. He wanted—he wanted—why?

He could almost feel his throat burning again.

No one was coming when his mom held him down and Dad dumped the coffee. It was up to his dad, and it was too late. Nothing he would say or do could have stopped it.

I've been trying to make you stop. This entire time.

Can it stop?

Killua knew. Not in that house. Kalluto… he was starting to think so, but here. Illumi gulped. What could he do? What should he do?

If Grandpa had stepped in, stopped—Illumi would have feared it was because they thought him weak. He looked at Kalluto, and he didn't see someone who was weak. He remembered Kalluto hugging him when—

Hisoka, you're right.

I do care.

I am a liar when I say I don't.

I don't know how to not care, and I don't know how to tell the truth that I do.

Illumi swallowed. He pulled out his phone. He remembered hearing Kalluto laughing with Machi and Feitan. Laughing.

I like your laugh.

I've never heard Alluka's, not since she was a baby.

A strange sensation of loss settled over him, like something had been stolen from him. He dialed Chrollo. "Can you put me in touch with Mizaistom?"

Even if the man was no match for his parents' attorney, he could try to help.


"I win," Palm said.

"No, you don't." Milluki somehow swerved his character.

"Hey!" Palm scowled. At the very least this game was a solid distraction for her. She didn't want to be thinking of anything else, to drown in her disjointed memories, many of which were blurred.

"Btw," said Milluki. "I found it."

Palm dropped the controller. "You what?"

"All the videos," said Milluki. "I didn't watch them. I promise you. But he has several."

Palm's heart pounded. She clutched the hem of her dress. "And when were you going to tell me this?"

"I just did." Milluki cleared his throat. "I want to hand them over to the police. Anonymously."

Palm glared at him. "No!"

"No?' He blinked up at her.

"I don't want anyone to see that! And I don't want anyone to question me about it." She rocked back and forth, digging her nails in. "I've seen documentaries. I know what they put you through."

"But he's an asshole."

"Can you imagine what it would be like to be trapped by law in a fucking room where all these men in suits, men with so much power than you'll never come close to having, rip you and everything you've ever loved apart and tell the court again and again how worthless you are and how much you deserved it and how it's all your fault and only focus on your bad points?" Which, if you were Palm, were a lot. Why does no one love me? I'm strong. I'm smart. I'm pretty.

And this is the closest I can get to love. Pain, barely coherent, lost. Blood running down her arms.

"Not like that," Milluki said quietly. "But I can understand, a little."

She snorted. "Oh, yeah?"

"Dad used to starve me when I was gaining weight. He used to wrap tape measures around me and keep track and the stress only made me want to eat more. He used to compare my test scores to Killua's, even though they were tests I did years before Killua, and he'd slap me across the face and call my mom and my grandfather in to tell me what a disgrace I was. Illumi, too, sometimes." Milluki crossed his arms and huffed. "Grandfather at least said I was smart. Sometimes. But I'd never be Killua, so."

Palm gaped at him. "Your parents are shitheads."

Milluki huffed. "And I still wish I was like them. I'd give anything to be like my dad."

"Even if that would make you a shitty person?"

Milluki scowled.

Yes, you would. Because he wanted to be loved. Pain, barely coherent, lost.

I'll do whatever you want me to. She'd thought that of Professor Knov, but she didn't know what that was, so she strove and strove and all it got her was this.

"I wouldn't do it if I were you," Milluki said sadly. "But I'm letting you know. I can, if you want. Or I can just delete them."

Palm squeezed her eyes shut.

"Oh," said Milluki. "I also noticed he has a lot of email exchanges with Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou. And a lot of them concern girls."

"He talked to me at the party," said Palm. "And gave me a drink, but I didn't really finish it. I can't remember what he said." She hit herself in the temple. Stupid!

"Stop it!" Milluki grabbed her wrist.

Her eyes slid around the room, taking in the candy wrappers, the dirty laundry, the stupid doll's arm dangling out from under the bed.

Hurting ourselves doesn't make us tougher, does it? Not in the end. She wiped at her eyes.

He handed her a tissue.


Should we meet one more time to go over our presentation?

Chrollo exhaled when the text came through. So Kurapika didn't hate him for last night. Though he supposed they would still have to talk about it.

Do you want to come over? he responded. He'd like to show Kurapika the house. Or, really, the library. He somehow suspected the boy would love it, even if a lot of the shelves were empty. They wouldn't stay that way though. He had plans to fill them. But not all of them. He wanted to leave some room for more books, the ones he hadn't discovered yet.

Sure.

"Can't believe he doing it," commented Feitan when Chrollo jogged down to the kitchen to make tea. Evening light filtered through the kitchen, indigo and maroon pooling onto the hardwood floor.

Kalluto sat at the kitchen table, sipping hot chocolate. "It's not as good as Machi's."

"Shut up, brat." Feitan jabbed his finger at him. "It's the instant stuff. I don't make that homemade shit. I burn it."

Kalluto smirked.

"Who is doing what and where is Machi?" Chrollo asked. He chose a ginger lemon tea.

"Illumi called Mizaistom," reported Kalluto. "He wants to tell them about—" He cut himself off, gulping the hot chocolate.

Abuse. Chrollo didn't know what to think. He thought of himself and Hisoka, with no parents at all. Feitan didn't even know his birthday. And then Kurapika, with parents he'd lost. And then he thought of Illumi and Kalluto, and he wondered. Would it be better to have never had parents than have parents who hurt you, and liked hurting you? Would he have been more or less lonely, if that had been him?

Upstairs, he heard Woble crying.

"Machi not feeling well," reported Feitan. "I bring her hot chocolate, but it burned."

Chrollo lifted his brows. You made her hot chocolate? She let you?

The doorbell rang. He turned and headed over, opening the door to find Kurapika standing there. "Hey."

"Hey." Chrollo shut the door behind him and headed to the kitchen. "Tea?"

"Sure." Kurapika took in Kalluto and Feitan. Feitan's eyes narrowed.

"Good, because I already made you a cup," Chrollo said, handing it to him. He led Kurapika to the library.

"I don't think the short guy likes me," Kurapika said. "But that other kid—he's Killua's brother, right?"

Chrollo nodded, hands wrapped around the warm mug. "Feitan's just always going to be grumpy when he knows we've had drama."

"Like a brother?" Kurapika asked.

"I suppose." Chrollo frowned.

"Cute mug," Kurapika remarked, studying the flowers painted on it. "My favorite mug is chipped."

Chrollo snorted.

"My parents gave it to me."

"I figured." Chrollo entered the library. An overstuffed leather sofa sat back against two long windows covered by heavy red velvet drapes. They'd come with the house and Chrollo hadn't seen the need to replace them. A desk was wedged between two bookshelves, and an armchair and ottoman in teal lurked in a corner.

"Wow," Kurapika said. "This room is kind of a dream."

"When I lived in Meteor City, I once snuck into a library. It burned down shortly thereafter, but it was safe, for the time being." Chrollo smirked as he sat on the couch. "I ran off with as many books as I could carry. I stuffed them down my shirt."

Kurapika laughed. "My parents were pretty overprotective." He bit his lip, as if even a mild critique upset him now. "There were lots of things we weren't allowed to read. But Pairo and I would sneak them. He might as well be my brother; he spent so much time with me growing up. We'd read them under the covers with a flashlight."

"How strange," Chrollo commented, sipping his tea. The ginger warmed his tongue. "I never figured you for a rulebreaker."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "What did you figure? That I obeyed everything?"

"Yes?" Chrollo frowned. "Or maybe not. You are too angry to obey everything."

Kurapika glanced at him, narrowing his eyes. "Are you trying to get me to prove your point?"

"Perhaps." Chrollo leaned back. "Why do you put such limits on yourself? Is it really just to be loved? Like when you wanted to be a doctor."

"Pairo saved my life," Kurapika said. "I told you. And—I wanted to cure him. His eyes—are because of me." He studied his mug, swallowing. "Even if he does love me, and wants me to be happy, I—"

"So you don't really think the world is just," Chrollo observed.

"Huh?"

Chrollo held up his hands. "I'm just trying to figure you out."

"Why?"

"You're interesting, to me."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "I want it to be as—the best it can be. And I want—to be better than I am." He traced the rim of the mug. "I don't know if that's possible."

"How about for me?" Chrollo asked. "Do you think it's possible?"

"No. Satan's waiting for you with a horde of demons." Kurapika smirked.

Chrollo's jaw dropped. Kurapika laughed, finishing his tea and setting it down on the floor.

"If you don't think the world will be just," Chrollo said, leaning forward. "Then why do you act like it is?" Why do you care? How do you care?

I want to care.

I don't want to be let down.

"Do you know what I think?" Kurapika asked. "I think you're the same. Otherwise you wouldn't have tried to get back at Hisoka. You do care. You're just—if you have choices, then—"

"We're both fucked, then," Chrollo supplied.

Then why did I grow up like that?

Why?

It hurt me.

I was lonely. I was cold. I was scared. I was trash. People kicked me, and I bled. I was—why—

I don't want to feel this!

Kurapika watched him. "I want to—even if I can't change anything—I want to try because—I want to be a part of this world." He leaned over, his hands covering his face and muffling his voice. "God, that sounds pretentious."

"Maybe," Chrollo said. "But I want—I want—"

If this isn't fate, I want it to be.

If this is, I want to fight it, with you.

I'm tired. I'm so tired. I don't want to be a puppet. I don't want to be like Illumi, a puppet, or like Hisoka, with no inhibitions whatsoever, and I am like both of them.

"It's funny," said Kurapika. "Seeing you—seeing us get along—seeing Pouf and Komugi start to get along, her dating Meruem—I think—I've never been as good of a person as I thought I was. I think you were a scapegoat, for myself."

And I liked you, because—just like the others here—you were me.

But you're different, too. You're Kurapika, and I can't—seeing you live—

"You are a part of the world," Chrollo said. "You don't have to earn it. You're a part of mine. Even if you decide you don't want to—"

I just wanted to belong.

I just wanted a family.

I just wanted to be safe, and to have fun.

I wanted choices, and reassurance it would all be okay. I wanted to control, and I wanted to be controlled. I wanted to live, and I wanted to die because I thought that was what I was born to do. I wanted value and I wanted trash, I wanted to help and I wanted to steal, I wanted to know and to learn, I wanted to look down on you all, and I wanted to be loved, I wanted, I wanted, I wanted.

I'm so greedy.

I am a mess.

Kurapika's hands gripped his chin, lifting Chrollo's face up. You know.

His lips found Chrollo's, and Chrollo pressed his face up. Kurapika's breath felt warm. His hands cupped Kurapika's chin. You really do want to kiss me?

"You don't have to prove anything," Chrollo managed.

"I want to, dumbass." Kurapika pulled back, face flushed, He tucked a strand of blond hair behind his ear.

It's beautiful. Chrollo reached out, untucking the hair, running the silken strands through his fingers.

"What are you doing?" Kurapika asked, voice unsteady.

Chrollo bit his lip. Kurapika would probably think it cheesy. "Thinking that you're beautiful."

Kurapika snorted. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are." But he saw it too, the sludge behind Kurapika's eyes, that shame. And he didn't want it to be there, but it was, because he was human, too.

Kurapika pushed Chrollo's hair back. His lips found the cross tattoo, the one he always called stupid. And then he pushed forward, and Chrollo was pressed up against the back of the couch, Kurapika's arms wrapped around him, his mouth pressing deeper and deeper. Chrollo copied his movements, sliding his hands up and down Kurapika's chest, settling on his hips. He tightened his grip.

"Sorry," Kurapika managed, pulling back. "I—lost control."

Chrollo was panting. "Well, don't stop." I want to see. I want to see you, and I want to lose control, too.

Kurapika swallowed. "I—I've never—"

Oh, right. Chrollo sat up. "I could show you. If you want to."

Kurapika held his gaze. "Okay." A simple expression of trust.

"My room," Chrollo said.

Kurapika rolled his eyes, but he smiled. They slipped into his room. Hisoka and Illumi both weren't in their rooms. Good. Chrollo texted Feitan. Keep dumb & dumber downstairs for the next hour?

He reached into his dresser for condoms and turned to find Kurapika inspecting his room. The ceilings were gabled, with only one small window. Candles lined the bookshelves, and books, of course. Shoes were piled in one corner. "It's a mess."

"That's okay. I'd have thought you'd like order." Kurapika smiled.

"Organized chaos," Chrollo explained.

"Fits." Kurapika swallowed.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes," Kurapika answered honestly.

Chrollo swallowed. "We don't have to." I'm nervous too.

"I want to." Kurapika reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, watching Chrollo's face as his chest came into view. Fuck.

Chrollo reached for Kurapika, kissing him slowly. He lifted Kurapika's shirt over his head. Kurapika shoved his coat off and pulled his shirt, next. Chrollo's lips moved down his chest, and Kurapika pressed his own against Chrollo's neck. Chrollo bit back a gasp. Christ. Kurapika was—good.

"You know," Kurapika managed. "You're the first kiss I ever had, too."

I'm sorry I didn't honor that. Chrollo held him. Kurapika's hands drifted to Chrollo's pants. He removed them first, and then Kurapika's, and then underwear too, and then Kurapika was lying on his back, and Chrollo covered his mouth with his. He heard Kurapika gasp as he used lubricant. "Sorry, it's cold."

"No, it's okay." Kurapika went back to Chrollo's neck. Well, he was going to be wearing scarves the next few days.

And then the idea of days fell away, and there was only today, this hour, this moment, himself inside Kurapika, and Kurapika holding him, both of them fighting to breathe. Kurapika's eyes were closed, and Chrollo kissed his lids.

When Kurapika opened them, they were scarlet.

He wasn't beautiful. He was—something else entirely. Chrollo kept moving. Kurapika's hand brushed his chin. Kurapika let out a gasp. His eyes burned even brighter. He shook. And then something inside Chrollo burst. He was a trembling mess, clutching Kurapika, and Kurapika arched up to kiss him again, and Chrollo could hear undignified sounds breaking through his own mouth, and he was the one who lost control, and Kurapika was still holding him.