Author's Note: See how fast I am with these chapters? I am on a rare break from novel writing, as I'm currently just waiting to hear back from publishers so I plan to tie up all of my stories in this golden moment. Happy "I'm attractive but way too anti-social, emotionally scarred and socially awkward to have significant other" day. I'm going to get some chicken nuggets.
Chapter Two: Inheritance X Stranger
Gon waited.
That's what he did best when it came to Killua, after all. He waited patiently in a little inn in the next town over and he knew that Killua would come.
He counted on it like he counted on the sun rising each morning. Everyday that they had been apart, Gon had looked out across the water and known that Killua was safe. It had been a gut feeling. And even though he knew that Killua would come and see him once things had settled down, that gut feeling of safety was suddenly gone.
Still, Gon was not at all surprised to roll over in his sleep one night and find Killua sitting next to him. Without even thinking, he rested his head in the silver haired boy's lap.
"Killua," he almost purred. "I knew you'd come. Did I leave the window open?"
"No, I had to break the lock. Sorry."
Gon looked up into Killua's strained face. "I'm sorry, Killua."
The blue eyes darted away. "Ah. I know."
Gon knew that Silva had died or Killlua wouldn't be here. His best friend was still wearing all black.
"So is it done? Are you head of the family now?"
Killua nodded. "Hm."
Gon wiggled a bit so that his head moved in Killua's crotch. For some strange reason, Killua coughed and stood up.
Gon propped himself up on his elbows. "Killua?"
His friend would not meet his eyes. "Gon…thanks for sticking around. But you can leave now, if you want. I'm sure you're bored."
Gon frowned. "Don't be stupid. I'm not going to leave you now. I'm not going to leave you ever."
Killua's eyes flashed. The mask of a cold assassin dropped and Gon saw the boy who meant everything to him. His best, best friend in the world…because what else could it be?
"Bakka," Killua mumbled. "Don't say things like that. It's embarrassing."
Gon bounced off the bed and went over to Killua. Even though he was just as strong as Killua now, he had always been shorter and stockier, so he had to lean up so that their foreheads were touching.
"Let me stay. You're going to need me."
Killua laughed. "Can you teach me how to run my family business? Can you help me tame my mother and keep my brothers from plotting a mutiny to overthrow me?"
Gon shook his head. "Of course not. But I always come in handy in the end."
Those lovely blue eyes filled up and Killua bit his lip. Gon wrapped his arms around the taller boy's neck. That warm, fuzzy feeling he always got when he looked at Killua was burning hot in his belly. He pressed himself tight against his friend and heard a small gasp in return.
"Let me stay."
"I don't want you to get hurt."
"I can handle it. You don't have to protect me all the time anymore, Killua."
"That's not what I mean. Gon there's…there's something else…"
"I don't care."
"Gon, bakka, listen…"
"I don't care Killua. I'm staying with you so stop arguing with me. You never win anyway!"
Killua's body stiffened and for a moment, Gon thought he felt something…firm…against his leg but then it was gone.
"You're right," he whispered, half jokingly and half with a deep sadness. "I can't live without you, Gon."
Gon nuzzled into Killua's neck. "Things won't change," he said fiercely, determined to make it so. "It will still be the two of us."
There was no answer. Killua's body wracked with silent sobs and Gon said nothing and held him, for a long time, until they stopped.
X
Killua waited. It was one of the assassin's greatest skills: waiting. It was actually the hardest part of the job.
The killing part was usually relatively quick.
Killua had killed his first man at four. The worst part of the whole thing had been waiting six hours for the asshole to come out of his hotel room. All he'd wanted to do was get back to his sandbox. Of course, Illumi had dragged him home and made him make a full report to his parents so there wasn't even a payoff at the end of it.
But now he was older and theoretically, the waiting should be coming easier. Theoretically.
Killua watched as Canary guided Gon into an abandoned cabin behind the butler's quarters. He made sure that the two were safely inside before stepping back, ever so slightly on his heel.
Half an instant later he was fifty paces away with the razor point of his nails pressed up against the soft flesh of that girl's neck.
She winced but he had to give her credit, she didn't gasp. She gripped the tree she was holding onto to avoid sinking to the ground in terror.
"Killua-sama," she whispered. "Forgive me for following you."
"I don't," he snapped. "I don't forgive you. I thought I told mother to send you home. I already said I would never marry you."
"Killua-sama…"
"You're not even good at it," he spat at her. She had changed out of black into a pale pink kimono. Her hair was braided and fell all the way down her back. Her deep purple eyes had a way of catching the light, especially when they were wide with fear. It irritated him that even though he detested her, he couldn't call her ugly. "I sensed you the second you stepped foot out of the mansion."
"I'm so-,"
"Don't you know anything about Zetsu?" he continued, aware that his rage was misdirected but unable to make himself care. "Though it wouldn't matter because you walk like a fucking elephant."
Her cheeks lit up with a quick flush and she bit her lip. "I've never been good at Zetsu. I'm…sorry."
"Shadow step? Anything? What exactly do you have to offer the Zoldyck family besides a vagina?"
Her eyes filled up with tears. "I…my brother…"
"I don't care about your brother. Go home."
"I don't have…"
"If I see you again I'll rip out your heart."
He kicked her in the back of her ankles, hard enough to sting but without enough force to shatter her legs. When she was down, he stepped back on his other heel and disappeared in a flash.
X
It was not remotely surprising to him that he was summoned to his father's old chamber. His mother sent three butlers to inform him that she needed to speak to him at once.
So naturally, Killua showed up three hours later, his belly full of sweets. They were all that he could make himself eat lately.
His mother was livid. She stood up from the great chair when he entered.
"Kil!" she shrieked.
He glanced at her coldly, clearly bored. It irritated him to see her sitting in his father's chair. He had never let her sit there when he was breathing. He was hardly buried and already everything had gone to shit.
"Mother. You asked to see me."
"Illumi tells me that you have insulted our guest."
Fucking Illumi.
"Since when do we have fucking guests?" he growled, officially at the end of his rope. "You kept me locked up my entire childhood—if it weren't for dad you would have kept me here forever. And now we have fucking company? Illumi told me that you she's been here for weeks!"
His mother straightened up. "I tried to explain this to you before you stormed out the other day. She's not an ordinary girl."
Killua doubted that very much. He'd sensed nothing extraordinary about her and it had been years since his perception had failed him.
"Send her back."
"We can't do that," she said testily. "We already paid for her. And I'm afraid there's no refund policy."
Killua just gaped at her. "What?"
"We bought her," his mother explained, as if she were talking about buying groceries. "At an underworld auction. She cost five billion jenny but she should be worth every penny."
Killua had a sudden mental image of that slight girl, pushed out onto a brightly lit stage. He could almost see her downcast gaze to hide the tears.
"Why?" he gasped. He had always known the black market dealt in people and he had always known that his family had never shied away from dealing with the underworld—when it was useful to them, of course. But still. He had never heard anything like this before.
"Because she is Mira Azhara of the Azhara family," his mother said smoothly.
Killua was sure his mother had mentioned this part before but he hadn't really stopped yelling "get her the fuck out of here, I'll never marry her" long enough for it to sink in.
The Azhara family was not as well known as the Zoldycks—in fact, they were a very well kept secret. They weren't assassins or mafia. But they were carriers of extremely rare, powerful Nen abilities: a family of specialists. It was hit or miss though—sometimes the "gifts" skipped whole generations or more. When the ability did finally re-appear, it was normally different—but it was always stronger than before. For every skipped generation, the power was stronger when it did appear. If it lay dormant for long enough….
It made sense now.
"The purple eyes," he said flatly. "They're the indicator."
His mother nodded. He could feel the lust for power radiating from her. "The last person to get a truly powerful gift was her great-grandfather. And she has his eyes."
"I didn't sense anything," he said, astonished. He ran a hand through his hair. "I swear she has the presence of a flea."
His mother nodded. "Her power is sealed. Apparently she can't control it."
Killua's eyes went wide. "Then what fucking use is she?"
"We don't need her power," his mother replied. She was almost shaking with excitement. She licked her parted lips. He fought the urge to gag as he realized that this must be what she looked like when she was aroused. "We just need her blood. And we know that hers is especially potent."
It dawned on Killua the entire point of this master plan. It was a stroke of genius: his father's last act to ensure the future of the family.
"Your children," his mother breathed. "Will be gods on earth."
He felt sick. "There's…no guarantee of that. It's a crapshoot."
Her visor went blurry. She was crying happy tears. "But you have always been lucky, Kil," she whispered. "We are on the edge of greatness. And we are going to win."
X
Now was the part where Killua had to apologize to the stranger.
He would keep it brief—he was having dinner with Gon—but he would do it all the same.
She hadn't asked to be here, after all. It could not have been very fun for her to be sold like livestock to a family of assassins. Whatever this rare Nen ability was…the rest of the family seemed to have forgotten that it was attached to a person.
They always had a way of forgetting that people were people and not just pawns in the Zoldyck game.
Killua was supposed to be head of the family now but he damn sure didn't feel like it. He felt like he had when he was a little boy, trapped under his mother's dark wing and inside Illumi's hypnotic eyes.
She wasn't in her assigned room—which was, shock of all shocks, right to next to his mother's chambers.
There was a butler hovering around her door who blanched when Killua asked where the girl was.
"She ugh…" the man stammered. "She's with Milluki-sama, Killua-sama."
He felt a cold chill go down his spine. He knew exactly what that meant.
He turned and bolted down the hall. He was faster now. It only took him seconds to descend the stairs, breeze past the burning torches and tear open the metal door to the isolation room.
Milluki's fat back was the first thing he saw. His older brother, now in his mid-twenties but no less fat, was doubled over hacking, clearly out of breath.
Killua quickly saw why. There, hung from the ceiling, was the stranger. Her head was bowed but he sensed that she was still barely conscious. Deep welts marred her warm brown flesh and her entire front was coated in matted blood. She was wearing nothing but a thin cotton slip that had torn and she was shamefully exposed. That explained the extra flush on Milluki's cheeks. He was enjoying this more than usual.
She had been up there for hours…probably since he'd confronted her this morning.
Milluki was holding the whip.
"Oh Kil," he said nonchalantly as he noticed his younger brother. "I was just…"
"Cut her down."
He knew that he was wearing his bloodlust on his face. He could feel his aura leaking out, building up in his arms and legs, preparing him to strike. This feeling was familiar: it was rage. It was his oldest companion.
Milluki's narrow eyes widened a little.
"Oi Kil. I thought this was what you wanted. Mama said she offended you—,"
"That doesn't mean I want you to beat her as punishment!" he seethed. He started to go to where the girl was hanging but Milluki stepped into his path, blocking it like a fat great wall.
"This isn't punishment. It's training."
Killua pulled his lip back from his front teeth. "What?"
"She's weak," Milluki scoffed. "She's offended you with her weakness. Mama too. Illumi too. She's not worthy to bear the name Zoldyck."
Killua remembered being hung from that ceiling before he could use the toilet on his own. Illumi had held his feet to stop his limbs from tearing in their sockets. Milluki had held the whip as both his parents looked on, grim faced. His grandfather—rest his soul—had always been the one to say when it was time for the training to stop.
Usually after Killua had learned to stop crying.
"Cut her down," he said, in a low, deadly voice. "Or I will cut your throat."
Milluki went pale. "I won't," he said stubbornly. "I won't disobey mama. You do it. Since you're head of the family now you can do what you want. But you're weak, Kil. You'll be the ruin of us. I told papa. I told mama. You're going to be the end of the Zoldycks!"
Killua moved past him without another word. He went to the stranger and reached out a hesitant hand to touch her neck. There was still a pulse.
She groaned and Killua froze. When she lifted her head their eyes met.
"Killua-sama," she whispered, so faintly that he would not have heard if he had not been close enough to read her lips.
"I'm going to get you down," he said in a rush. He didn't bother with the keys to the shackles. Instead he just ripped them off the wall and caught the stranger as she fell.
She let out a horrible moan of pain and he thought about knocking her out just to spare her.
"I'm sorry, Mira," he breathed.
She smiled up at him faintly. "That's…the first time."
"What?"
Now he was afraid that Milluki had knocked out half her brain and that she would be a half-wit for life.
She coughed up a little spurt of blood but her smile didn't fade. "That's the first time you've used my name."
He gaped at her in silence. A second later she went slack, finally, mercifully, at peace.
But it would not last.
Not for her. Not for Gon.
And not for Killua.
