Happy New Year (a day lateXD)! New chapter: I hope you enjoy it.

Kidnap Time

It was Monday when Killua woke up. A Monday with light streaming through the open curtains of the living room windows and his muscles aching with more earnest then they had been the night before.

He thought he had heard the door close, but when he opened his eyes and looked at the door, he saw there was no indication it had moved. A dream? Groaning, he grabbed hold of the edge of the sofa and pulled himself into a sitting position, the muscles in his arm and back protesting as he did so.

Squinting at the clock, he saw it was 7:00. Too early. He would prepare for school later.

Killua stood up on wobbly legs. The normal bustle outside was there, but inside was oddly quiet. Glancing around the room, Killua couldn't spot anything out of place. His eyes were sweeping over the room, taking in each detail when he suddenly noticed that Alluka's bedroom door was open, which was unusual. Alluka always slept with her bedroom door closed, and if she was awake then she would usually be in the living room.

With a few quick strides, wincing internally as each step left a sting of pain shooting up his leg, Killua crossed the living room. He glanced into Alluka's bedroom and stared at the school books lit up by the sunlight coming through the window.

Empty.

The duvet had been placed neatly over the bed. She hadn't left in a hurry.

A shiver of dread crawled slowly down Killua's spine. The rational part of his mind was saying that everything was alright, that she had probably just gone to the convenience store. He had slept deeply yesterday, and Alluka might not have wanted to disturb him.

(Perhaps he was worrying too much…)

Killua went to the kitchen this time, and quickly spotted a note on the counter, the white paper filled with Alluka's crisp handwriting.

I'm going to the store, we've ran out of milk

Killua pulled open the fridge door, and sure enough there was no milk in the usual compartment where it was always kept. Was it just his imagination that the carton had been half full when Killua checked last time?

He shook his head. It was probably nothing.

Yet, Killua could not shake off the uneasiness resting heavily on his chest. It seemed to be all over the room, a dark cloud resting on the fringes of his consciousness and refusing to let him rest. Perhaps it was just him being paranoid, but Killua had been told not to take these feelings lightly. The unconscious was far more informative than first thought.

He was still in his crumpled uniform from last night, so not bothering to change, he slipped on his shoes and went outside. It was bright and already warm, the heat sticking to Killua skin. He crossed the road quickly, and walked in a straight line towards the usual convenience store.

The dark shape seemed to come out of nowhere.

One second an empty space, the next a large man in front of him, coming towards him at frightening pace.

Killua stopped to move out the way, but it was a second too late. The man, who Killua could now see was wearing a white apron holding a bunch of flowers, bumped into his shoulder with surprising force. Although he staggered a little, Killua recovered quickly.

"Sorry," Killua muttered, before continuing to walk forward. Another time he might have kicked a fuss, but right now he didn't have time to deal with anything. A hand gripped his shoulder. Angrily, Killua brushed it off and spun round to confront the man.

"Look, I said sorry…"

"Mr Zoldcyk?"

The sudden use of his surname caught Killua by surprise. It was funny how such a simple word could install these mixed emotions of fear and shock in anyone who knew. Yet Killua never used it to brag, let alone expected to hear it from anyone, as though he was subconsciously trying to detach himself from the name. To hear it now was… jarring.

"What?" he said.

The average height man, nothing significant about his looks except maybe the gentleness of his features and the yellowness of his blond hair, smiled.

Then there was a scream.

From down the road, from the road towards the convenience store, full of surprise with a hint of desperation. And familiar.

Suddenly, the fear that had been nagging Killua since he woke up came up like a roaring fire, terror clinging to each vein and surging through his muscles. All sorts of scenarios were flying through his brain, each clambering to be seen. He had sworn to protect her, to make sure nothing would ever hurt her, and in that moment it was the weight of failure that pressed down on his shoulders.

A strangled shout of answer escaped his throat.

"Alluka!"

And then he was running. Not even caring who could see the electricity buzzing around him in a white halo of light, just needing to get to his sister who was in danger.

He didn't have to run far – he was there in less than a second, his eyes darting to each detail and taking in the scene.

A black car pulled up on the driveway, a crowd of people, men in black suits with guns held in their hands…

"Where's Alluka!" he demanded, loudly. "What have you done with her!" He didn't even have time to keep the desperation out of his voice, raw with the torrent of emotions ripping through his mind, or to stop the pure bloodlust radiate out of his body. In the corner of his eye, he saw the crowd of civilians take a hasty step back. He didn't care. He could kill right now. Rip each and every heart out for daring to touch the person who he held closest to his heart.

"Calm down, Killua-kun."

The voice, clipped and professional, did little to help his aggravated nerves.

Killua turned to the person who had spoken, an averaged sized woman with sleek blue hair to just below her shoulders, in an identical suit to the three people around him, and glared.

"I'm going to kill you," Killua said. His voice, although calmer, was full of all the killing intent he could put behind it. The other person did not react, other than a little raise in her pencilled in eyebrows.

"Your brother will be returned quite safely, if you will listen civilly," the woman answered smoothly.

"Sister," was Killua's abrupt reply. The other did not comment on the statement.

"I have no intention to harm you, if we can have your cooperation. Why don't we talk about this privately?" she said. The threat in the phrase was clear – Killua had a blackmailed enough to know when it was being directed at him, even with the lack of aggression in the voice.

Something about the woman snagged in Killua's mind, but he was too absorbed in thinking about his next move to answer. He needed to get Alluka and get out of here.

Where was she?

He looked at the car. The woman's eyes followed his line of vision to the car and his tensed ever so slightly. Killua was moving in an instant. Kicking off the ground with one foot, he was shooting towards the car.

Something slammed into his stomach. It was with such force that Killua saw the flash of bright stars across his vision as the red hot pain struck him. Then he was flying. He saw faces in the crowd, full of shock and horror (and was that Nagisa?) before he connected with the ground.

Killua was up again in an instant, his nen already in a strong Ken. Although his body was sending him warning signs from every part of him, Killua ignored it completely, concentrating solely on the task ahead of him. He could deal with the pain – having trained to tolerate it since an early age. He had to do this, he couldn't let Alluka down.

What had happened? He hadn't seen anything hit him.

The woman was standing a few metres away, her hand extended. Something about this position was odd, the extended arm should not have gone anywhere near Killua and seemed to have no purpose. Killua immediately remembered back to Biscuit's training.

("If you see something suspicious gyo!")

Concentrating his aura into his eyes, he could see the clear outline of nen in a vaguely cylindrical shape extending from the woman's hand and going to exactly where Killua had encountered the resistance. Was it his nen? It had to be. A transmuting type power of some sort.

He was running again. Out of the crowd and towards the figure, standing there as though waiting for Killua to attack. If Killua wanted to get to Alluka, he would have to take her out first.

It was a mistake of Killua's, really. He should have realised that concentrating his aura to his eyes and his hands would leave the rest of his body frightfully vulnerable, that with the strain of yesterday's assassination attempt still weighing on his muscles, his reactions weren't as good as they should be. He should have realised that he was running into a trap, that the prick of the hairs on the back of his neck standing up was a warning. But he didn't.

Like a hammer, the force hit him on the head from behind.

For some reason, the floor was right in front of his face and the world was turning dark. He could hear someone talking, vaguely see one of the suited men step towards him but the world was doing a crazy dance of lazy loops and he could be sure.

"Killua!"

(Gon?)

The man was flying away, now on the floor, pushed over by a solid kick to the jaw. Just as the blackness consumed the world, he was sure he saw Gon's back to him, arms raised ready to fight, impossibly bright in his tunnelled vision.

Somewhere in the last remaining slithers of consciousness, a single memory flashed across his mine. He remembered. Why hadn't he noticed before? As the world spun and faded, a single thought flashed though his brain; he knew who the woman was.

The world went black.

The car was empty. It took a millisecond for Nagisa to register this, a few moments more for Gon to do the same. He jumped back away from the door, eyes snapping upwards. Following his gaze, Nagisa cursed internally as he watched the woman disappear across the rooftop. She had left his accomplices in a messy sprawl behind him, left where Gon had knocked them down. The woman apparently was not interested in retrieving them.

Gon was already up and chasing her.

"Wait..." Nagisa started, arms outreached in some futile effort to stop him but the green blur that was Gon had already disappeared over the rooftop.

(That woman is dangerous.)

The woman unnerved him. There was that nagging feeling in the back of his brain that Nagisa couldn't pinpoint. It used to be a rare occurrence, but ever since Class E, Nagisa had been getting the feeling often. It meant another assassin was in the vicinity, usually.

A soft groan behind him informed him that Killua had regained consciousness. Nagisa hoped he was alright. Whatever invisible force had hit him from behind, going by the way Killua had flown forwards its impact should have been enough to leave a substantial dent.

(What had that been?)

There were questions going through Nagisa's head, one's that desperately needed answering. Right now, though, someone needed his help.

Killua had sat up now, rubbing his head.

"Alluka," Nagisa distinctively heard him whisper, although the sound was hard to catch with the people milling about him.

Someone had called an ambulance, and its piercing shrieks were coming nearer.

Nagisa ran up to Killua, shoving through the crowd.

"Are you alright?" he asked, once he was beside him.

Killua attempted to stand, but wobbled a little. Grabbing his arms, Nagisa helped him up. The other boy immediately pushed him away, face turned half away.

"I'm fine," Killua said, harshly. "Where's Alluka?"

Nagisa's second pause in search of a reply is enough to set Killua off.

He was already a few steps ahead when Nagisa spotted Gon, come back over the rooftop, landing neatly in front of Killua. His face was livid, full of hate and anger, the fury written across every feature. There was a note in his hand, scrunched up in a tight ball with enough force to make Gon's knuckles a sickly white.

"Alluka…" Killua started. There's something Nagisa had never seen before in his face, which has turned even paler than his usually white hue. He looked ghostly, blue eyes wide. Its fear, he realised, that ground the assassin to the spot.

(He cares about his sister.)

"What is that?" Nagisa asked, slowly as though trying to incite an angry bee hive. Gon looked at him, then slowly passed him the note.

"He was gone by the time I went over the house. I found this," the black haired boy explained.

Nagisa uncurled the crumpled paper carefully. It was a map, a cross placed across a black block near the centre. He recognised one of the streets to the side as somewhere just out of town.

KZ:

08:00 today.

Do not contact anyone.

Come alone.

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