*****Warning: Child Abuse, Suicide, Sadness

Note: The ages of the members of the family have been changed from canon to fit the story, and are as follows in this flashback: Illumi- 16, Milluki, 14, Killua- 10, Alluka- 6, Kalluto-5

this is a flashback chapter

Eleven

And Then, Truth

~Eight Years Prior~

It was days like this that Alluka cherished the most.

Lying on her back, the cool dampness of the fresh summer grass prickling against her legs, she couldn't help but stretch out in complete relaxation. She smiled, turning over to look at Killua whose hands were locked together behind his head. His eyes were closed, a peaceful grin painted on his face.

"Big brother," she sang, her sweet voice causing Killua to smile wider, "you're not asleep are you?"

He shook his head, laughing. He turned so that their eyes met, her big blue orbs all but drowning him in. "Nope, I'm just cloud watching."

"With your eyes closed?" She pouted, her small face distorted into a frown, "Don't lie, Big Brother. Mother says it's impolite to lie."
"Okay, okay," he laughed, impressed with Alluka's mocking of their mother so early on, "I'm sorry. I'm a little sleepy."

Alluka sprang up, standing over Killua with her arm stretched, her face impatient and demanding. "Get up, Big Brother! I want to play in the garden, not take a nap!"

"Fine," he mumbled, jumping to both feet with ease and dusting the dirt off of his shorts, "Let's go, Alluka."

She smiled a radiant beam that was picturesque with the June day, the one that could sucker Killua out of anything she wanted. Even at six, Killua fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, and he made no remarks or complaints about the position.

The warm sun on his back dissipated, causing him to turn around in irritation. Illumi hovered over him, an unreachable Goliath, the black pearls in his eyes large enough to form an eclipse.

"Kil, Alluka," he said, his tone husky, finally accompanying his stature of puberty, "you two are up pretty early for a Saturday."

"Alluka insisted," Killua replied, yawning at the reminder that the day had greeted them only hours before, "she wanted to play in the garden."

"I see," Illumi pressed a finger to his chin, his eyes darting over to Alluka. "Have you forgotten, dear sister? About our plans today?"

Alluka frowned, her bottom lip poking out in retaliation, her cheeks ballooning with words of a plea. "Please, Illumi, can't I spend the day with Killua?"

Illumi bent over, the whiteness in his eyes swallowed by his black pits, and pat the top of her head. She winced underneath his palm, as if he were planning to squash her like a pesky insect. "Now Alluka, you know that Saturdays are supposed to be spent with your dear brother, Illumi. Killua can wait," he turned over to Killua, his eyes holding no room for a negotiation, "can't you Kil?"

Killua nodded slowly, the invisible strings that wrapped neck were pulling without his consent, a reminder that the younger siblings were merely ventriloquist dolls for Illumi's entertainment. He reached over with his free hand and ruffled his hair, the friction causing tiny surges of electricity to ripple over his scalp. "Atttaboy," Illumi said through a grin, "perhaps I'll give you some candy for being so cooperative. After our lessons, of course, Alluka." He stood, turning around towards the house and gesturing for Alluka to follow. "Come, come, little sister," he grinned, "we have much to go over today."

Alluka smiled apologetically at Killua, her eyes betraying the sentiment etched in the corners of her mouth. They watered with a begging, pulling Killua into something that he was unaware of. She trotted behind Illumi, her tiny legs struggling to keep up with his lanky ones, and turned around to face Killua again.

There were two things that Killua became sure of in that brisk, fleeting moment. Two things that would always pester in the back of his mind like an unwanted whisper, screeching against his temple like an attached demon.

One: Alluka's eyes, no matter the distance, were wet with tears, ones that she tried –and failed—to swallow down as she sniffed through a reddened nose. Killua knew, even then, that her oversized irises were pleading for him to reach out and grab her, stop her from going to wherever she was headed. His feet, he discovered, were bricks, and his small and fragile frame could not move their weight, even if he forced himself to.

Two: No matter how many times Alluka tried to pull down her dress, which Killua counted as nine since they made their decline towards the estate, she could not cover the blue and purple mark that stained the back of her pale thigh, criss-crossing across the skin like angry ink.

"You're leaving again? You just got back last night!"

Mito hushed her voice to a tone that only they could hear, so as not to upset the sleeping ten year old. She looked hysterically at the older man across the table, his stubble on his face and bags under his eyes a clear indication that he had been up for nights on end. He sighed, taking another sip of his tea and wiggling his nose.

"You know I have to, Mito."

"You don't have to," she scoffed, "you're choosing to. There's a big difference between the two."

"Not when it involves my son," he stared at her, determination reeling in the whites of his eyes, "and not when it involves a chance at a real family."

"Oh cut the bullshit, Ging," Mito pressed her flat palms against the table, the sides of her hands turning red from the force, "you're doing this mainly for you. If Gon were a factor in your decisions, then you wouldn't rush off to leave him alone, again."

He pushed his cap further down his head, his thick tendrils of hair wildly pooling through the sides. "You wouldn't understand," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "you never have."

"Then explain it to me, Ging," she said, her voice becoming uneasy with emotion, "explain to me how you feel comfortable leaving your son behind while you chase something that never belonged to you in the first place!"

"She did belong to me," he pointed a finger with his chest, the brims of his eyes becoming watery, "she belonged to me and she belonged to him. I have to get her back, for the sake of myself and for the sake of Gon."

"Stop bringing him into this as if you're doing him some sort of service! Gon has never questioned anything about her, he has never asked to see something as small as a picture. Do you want to know what Gon needs? What he really wants?" She pressed her hands together and pointed them at Ging. "You. He needs his father and he wants you here. You're so busy running behind a ghost that you don't realize the little boy who cries while he looks out of the window. Do you know what he asked me last time?"

Ging took a deep breath and finished off his tea. "I'm sure you're going to tell me anyways, so go ahead."

"He asked me," she replied, clutching her chest, "why doesn't his father love him enough to stay around. He adores you, Ging. He watches the movies you used to watch, plays the games that you said you loved, he even pretends that he's you by dressing in your clothes. You're his idol; isn't that enough for you?"

"I can give my son many things, but," he sat back in the chair and closed his eyes, "I can't give him a mother's love."

Mito formed her lips around the words, but couldn't bring herself to say them. Every time Ging returned from his escapades and took Gon back, she was left with the lingering smell of bath soaps and the phantom squeaks of rubber ducks from her tub. She wallowed in the misery of once again being alone in her home, the stilled laughter of Gon etched into the walls, breathing to life every time she passed a room. The sentence was lodged in her throat, caught in a bubble, but she couldn't stop it from crossing her mind.

He already has a mother's love. He has me.

"Why are you so loud, Aunt Mito?" Gon emerged in the front door of the kitchen, clutching the blanket that Mito sewed for his birthday and rubbing the sleep crust out of his eye. Mito turned and smiled warmly, trying to diffuse the lingering tension in the air.

His eyes focused from his dreamy haze and made contact with Ging. Instantly, they opened as he dropped his blanket and ran towards him. Mito looked at the blanket, lying against the cold tile of the kitchen, and fought back the tears that threaten to escape.

A metaphor, it seems. Every time Ging comes back, Gon forgets about me.

"Dad!" Gon leaped excitingly into his arms, cradling his chin in the crevices of Ging's neck. He inhaled the musky cologne that was dabbed against his skin and instantly felt the effects of home.

"Good to see you too, Gon." Ging pressed his nose in his hair, embracing the warmth of his doppelgänger.

"I missed you, dad. Why were you gone so long this time?" Gon pressed back and sat in Ging's lap, pouting as fluffy tears made their way into the corners of his eyes. "I thought you forgot about me again!"

Ging ruffled his fingers through Gon's unkempt hair and gave him a cheeky smile. "Hey, now, don't you go doing that. You know your old man wouldn't leave you behind. I just had some loose ends to tie up, you understand, right?"

Gon nodded, wiping away the tears and snot against the sleeve of his pajama top. Mito sighed, getting up to get him a Kleenex.

"Are we going home now, dad? I have a lot of cool things to talk with you about!"

Mito leaned over the two, handing the tissue to Gon. Her eyes pressed against Ging's stare, forcing him to respond truthfully. "Yes, Ging, when are you going home?"

Ging narrowed his eyes at her, scowling deeply in his chest. "Could I have a moment," he forced out stalely, "with my son? Alone?"

The words cut inside of Mito's heart, a deep wound that Ging kept opening and closing at his own disposal. She cleared her throat and stood straight, reaching down to rub Gon's head.

"Gon," she said tenderly, causing the boy to look at her with the big honeycomb eyes that she loved dearly, "you're getting to be such a big boy now." She tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, leaving the room before her tears drowned them all.

Ging watched her exit, a small riffle of guilt coursing in his bones. He looked down at his son, who confusingly watched the space Mito had recently occupied.

"Gon," he said huskily, his voice demanding Gon's undivided attention, "I have to go away for a few days again."

The disappointment anchored Gon's head down, his expression altering to a dismal one. "Oh," he said biting his trembling lip, "I understand."

"Do you?" Ging hugged him closer as if he could stifle his son's sadness with his maddening weight of affection. "Do you understand that everything I do is to help us out? The both of us?"

"Yeah," he sighed, wrapping his arms around Ging's midsection and resting his head against his chest. He began to kick his legs absentmindedly, a trait he inherited from his father.

"Good," Ging whispered, "because I'm so close Gon. I can feel it, I swear to you I can. I never want you to think that I don't love you, or that I don't care son, but I also need you to know that I have to do this. One day you will thank me."

"Mmm hmmm," Gon nodded against his chest, but the pain of the announcement did not evaporate. I don't care about one day, dad. I only care about you staying now.

"When you come back," Gon mumbled against Ging's clothes, "can I stay with you?"

Ging chuckled, the vibrato in his chest causing Gon to fumble. "Of course you can kiddo. What kind of question is that?"

"The kind," Gon said somberly, "that I want to make sure you keep your word on." He extended his pinky upwards, wiggling it with determination. Ging laughed heartedly, remembering the times when he and a younger Mito practiced the same mannerisms. He intertwined his pinky with Gon's, the stark contrast of their thickness becoming relevant. "I promise," Ging started off in chant.

"That my dad will keep his word and come back for me," Gon sang, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"If I break my promise," Ging sang in bravado, forcing a chuckle from the boy, "then I'll—"
"You'll—"

"Have to swallow a thousand needles," the chimed in unison.

"Sealed with a kiss!" Gon enthusiastically pressed his thumb to his dad's, wiggling it against the stump.

"Okay okay," Ging laughed, "so now you have indefinite proof that I mean what I say. Fair deal?"

"Mmm!" Gon nodded, returning his head against his chest. "And don't forget dad."

"Don't forget what?"

"You can never break a pinky promise."

"And this one's name is Fred," Alluka twirled the pink coated marble in between her fingers, bringing it close to her eye and peeking through.

Killua turned his nose upward, his eyebrow rising in confusion. "Fred? Why that name? That's a boy's name, Alluka."

"I dunno," she shrugged her shoulders, bringing the marble back to the collection that circled her knees, "I just like the name. I name all of my marbles."

Killua scanned over the multi colored spheres that adorned the carpet, a stockpile that Alluka had been keeping treasured for months now. He knew that Tsubane, the butler entrusted to watch over Alluka, would bring them to her for presents. She had to have about twenty by now, and she had spent the past fifteen minutes going over each one and what it meant to her.

"They're very shiny," Killua admired, picking one up to examine it. It was a blue and green stone, a small resemblance of Earth. Killua felt powerful with it in his hand, as if he were a god who could control the way the planet breathed and the lives that inhabited it. "This is a pretty cool collection, Alluka."

Alluka studied the way that Killua appreciated the sphere, noting how the kaleidoscope of colors brought out the blue rims of his irises. "Big brother," she announced, leaning over and cupping her hands over his, "I want you to have this one."

Killua's eyes sparkled with glee, his mouth opening to an uneven grin. "Really? I like this one a lot!"

"I know!" she exclaimed proudly, "And that's why I want you to have it. Its name is Alluka's Heart, that's what Tsubane told me to call it. All of my marbles are important to me, just like Big Brother!"

"Alluka…" Killua looked down at their closed hands, the way Alluka's tiny fist enclosed over his. She was growing, and it wouldn't be long before she was in a real elementary school and he would have to protect her from bullies. It was a job that he did not intend to fail, the older of the last three children. Kalluto still nuzzled up to Kikyo's embrace, but Alluka was his own personal protection. "Thank you."

"Mmhmm," she beamed, "but make sure you take care of it. It's magical, that's what Tsubane told me. If you treat it nicely, it has the power to grant any wish that you want."

"Any wish? That's what she told you?"

"Yes! She said that these are special marbles, and they have to be treated as such. I trust you, Big Brother, so don't let me down!"

Killua smiled marvelously, studying the light that emancipated from her face, the way her nose crinkled up as she told her secret. He painted the image in his mind so that he would always have it to look back on, just in case he ever forgot.

The shadows that embraced them suddenly pierced through with the golden light of the room as Kikyo's face crept through.

"Alluka, Killua!" she said through tight lips, "Get from underneath there this instant! This is a dinner party, not play time!"

"Yes Mother," they sulked, scooping up Alluka's marbles and placing them into her pocket. They wrestled their way between the thick table cloths, greeting the eyes of the guest that questioned them. Kikyo hurriedly smoothed out Alluka's dress and refastened the buttons on Killua's shirt, shooing them to their placements at the table. An older man with a kind face smiled down at Alluka as she took the seat next to him, pouring water into her glass. "Nice of you to join us, young lady."

"My name is Alluka!" she said with a toothy smile, holding up six fingers, "I'm six years old!"

"Well, now, what a pretty name," he placed a hand on the top of her head, lightly smoothing out the frizzed hair that matted at the top, "Six years, you say? I don't think an old man such as myself can remember back that far. I'm 72."

"You are very old," Alluka said through her wondrous eyes, forcing a snicker from Killua, "I bet you grew up with no television or anything."

"Please," Kikyo said through a reddened face, motioning slyly for Alluka to mind her manners, "excuse my daughter and son." She shot her eyes in the direction of Killua, reprimanding him through her sharp gaze. "They can be a handful sometimes."

"Oh, no need for that," he said, raising his palm in the air and chuckling, "They're just children. My grandchildren are the same; luckily I have the patience of a stone giant."

Kikyo cleared her throat and poured herself a full glass of wine, prompting a raised eyebrow from Silva. She shook her head and took a long sip.

"We appreciate your understanding, Netero," Silva passed the wine in his direction, "and we also appreciate you coming this evening to discuss business. Your organization is just what the council needs."

"Well, I do believe that it would be best for us in the long term, considering how much revenue you've brought in. Don't get me wrong, I'm still not one hundred percent sure that Kukuroo will be my home I retire to, but if you keep treating me to fancy dinners and delightful tikes, I don't know how I could say no."

Silva chuckled heartedly, biting into his steak. "Well, if you sign on with us, I can absolutely guarantee that you can have this wonderful dinner soiree whenever you desire. You know my son, Illumi," Silva nodded in Illumi's direction, serving the bait that he wanted Netero to gobble up, "will be turning eighteen at the end of next year. We plan on having him on board of the financial department on the council. He's a wizard with numbers."

"Oh?" Netero smiled courteously at Illumi, "well that sounds very promising. Your father has shown me your recent test scores, very impressive young man."

"Thank you," Illumi responded, his tone void of any real emotion, "I work very hard. I plan on being a vital component in our family."

"Well," Netero laughed, taking a sip of wine, "you sure have him trained well, Silva." He looked down at Alluka who was struggling to cut into her steak. He leaned over with his knife to help her out, red juice pooling around her vegetables. "And what about you, little one? Do you also plan on joining the family affair when you grow up?"

Alluka nodded, stuffing her face with the tender meat. "Mother and Father are always training us to be good speakers. They say that it's important."

"And they're right," he responded with a smile, "nothing is better than a beautiful lady who speaks eloquently. Perhaps you'll take after your mother."

"Oh, Netero," Kikyo blushed, polishing off her wine, "you are absolutely ludicrous."

"I don't want to be like Mother, I want to be like Big Brother!" Alluka gushed, waving her hands in the air.

"I can see why," Netero exclaimed, "Illumi is very smart."

"No not him," she frowned, reaching across the table, "like my big brother Killua!"

"I see," Netero smiled at Killua, "you two seem very close."

"We do everything together, Mr. Netero," Alluka grinned, "we play all of the time!"

"Really?" Netero cut into his own steak, sopping it up into the juices that lie underneath the browned meat, "what kind of games do you play? My grandchildren love hide and seek."

"My favorite game," she said looking over to Killua for permission, "is called Three Favors. Would you like to play?"

"Honey," Silva interrupted, "I don't think Netero is here to play games."

"It's quite alright," Netero turned in his chair to an anticipating Alluka, "how do you play?"

"I command you to do something, and if you can't then I command another one. If you do it, then you get to command me to do something. The first person to get three failures loses."

"That's quite a contest," Netero chuckled, "but I'm willing to play. You go first."

"Okay!" Alluka pressed a finger to her lips and thought, closing her eyes in the process. She opened them in delight and held her palm forward. "Give me your cake, Mr. Netero."

Netero reached over his plate and laughed. "Such an easy request, I should watch my sugar intake anyways. Well, that's one for you, so it's my turn. I would like a high five!"

Alluka obliged, smacking her tiny palm against his. "Done! Now let's see what's next." She closed her eyes again, her tongue wiggling out of its cave in concentration. Her eyes popped open again, her blue irises determined. "Pick me up, Mr. Netero!"

"Oh, that one I will have to pass," he laughed, pointing to his lower back, "I threw out these tired muscles last week, and I'm afraid I'm still recuperating. Perhaps if you were younger, I still might be able to."

"That's one strike against you then! Now, give me a million dollars, Mr. Netero."

Netero through his head back in uproar, his stomach vibrating with his laughter. "My, my you are a feisty one! A Zoldyk through and through. Perhaps you can make that one day when you get to be my age!"

"So is it a no?"

"I'm afraid so, little one."

"That's okay! That's two strikes against you! For the last request, I would like to have your car, Mr. Netero!"

Netero raised his hands in the air in defeat, his face in an unbreakable smile. "Well, I believe that makes three, little one. You are the winner." He opened his eyes to look down at Alluka, expecting to see the cute little grin that he had quickly grown accustomed to.

Her face, he discovered, had contorted into a stale grin, her eyes appearing to have dilated, an eclipse of black on blue. "Did you know, Mr. Netero," she said, her voice softer and her tone lower, "that you will die soon?"

Netero placed his hand back, looking over at the shocked faces of Silva and Kikyo. "What is the meaning of this?" he exclaimed.

"Alluka!" Kikyo all but spit out her water, her body fuming with anger, "where do you get off thinking you can speak to our guest this way?"

"It's her dumb little game, Mother," Illumi's pits were open gazed in Alluka's direction as he fidgeted his fingers in a fist to keep himself calm, "she does this from time to time."

"I swear to you, Netero," Silva cleared his throat, "we had no idea she did such a thing. Alluka you will apologize this instant."

"Alluka isn't here," she sang in a mumble, "and I get to pick my favor, not the other way around." She looked over in her brother's direction. "Tell them how the game works, Killua."

Killua drank his water, seemingly unfazed by the change in dynamics. "She won't stop until her favor is granted. What do you want, Nanika?"

"Nanika!?" Kikyo clutched her chest, "Who in the world is Nanika?"

"That's what she likes to be called," Killua replied, " I dunno why, it's just part of the game, I think."

"I want," Nanika turned back to Netero, reaching her arms upwards, "your eyes. They look like marbles! Give them to me, Mr. Netero! You're going to die anyways!"

Netero looked down in disbelief at her, shaking his head and trying to contain his temper. "What an evil request, little girl. Where are your manners?"

"Give them to me, Mr. Netero!" she demanded, pressing her body against his legs, "I want them! Give them to me and then you can die!"

Netero threw his napkin on the table, standing up and fuming over at Silva and Kikyo. "I don't know what kind of charade this is, but I do not wish to conduct business with a family of heathens." He pointed a finger in Alluka's- Nanika's- direction, his fist shaking. "If I were you, I would get that fixed! It's absolute blasphemy!"

"Please!" Silva partially stood, smoothing out his shirt, "I'm not sure what's going on here, but if you'd allow me to-"

"I will do no such thing, Mr. Zoldyk. Clearly, your family is deranged. Your father was a friend of mine indeed, rest his soul, and that is the only reason you do not have a definitive no at the moment. But if that is here again, I will make sure that no one invests their money into this shrewd mountain!" He gulped down his wine and stormed out, a trail of angry words marking his footprints in the carpet.

"Alluka!" Kikyo slammed her fist against the table, the glasses clattering from her move, "what the hell do you think you are doing!?"

Her question was met with silence, her eyes pressing towards the small body that fell asleep in the chair. Kikyo pulled her hair out of its perfect circular bun, her anger darkening the room like a thunder cloud.

"Don't worry, Mother," Illumi said, rising from his seat. "I'll see that she gets to her bed safe and sound."

Something in Illumi's words caused the pit of Killua's stomach to fall, the insides rolling around and crashing into each other. And as he watched his brother cradle his sister against his chest, the urge to reach out and pull her back tugged against him like a gnawing wolf.

Instead he watched them leave the room, and Killua couldn't help but notice that the scene was a depiction of a lion carrying a lamb as its prey.

Gon stretched his toes against the hot gravel that littered his front yard, his legs nuzzling the green grass that drew the imaginary line.

Today was the day, he recalled, the day that Ging was coming back. Five days, was what he told him, and today marked the fifth day.
Before the goddess sun could properly greet the day, Gon had already polished off his bowl of cereal, bathed himself, and beat Mito to the morning dishes.

And the agonizing wait of Ging's return loomed over him, the anticipation rolling in his belly like a hurricane.

Gon thought about all of the things he would get to do with his father now that they would be permanently living together. All of the fishing expeditions, all of the dinners they would try- and most likely fail- to cook, the books Ging would read to him, the stories he would tell, all of these reachable, soon to be made memories lit the firework of excitement in Gon's chest.

The best part will be all of the tomorrows that we'll forever have, dad.

Gon heard the gravel turn in its familiarity of someone approaching. He listened for the sound of brakes squealing to a stop before sitting upright, his mouth opening to a wide grin. He jumped effortlessly to his feet, racing toward the brown car before the driver got out.

"Aunt Mito! Aunt Mito!" Gon screamed towards the house, "Dad's finally here!"

Gon strutted to the driver's door as Mito came out drying off a pot. The corners of her mouth turned downwards into a frown, a deep weight sinking in her chest. She wanted nothing more than for Gon to be able to spend every amount of the rest of his life under Ging's care, but she also knew what kind of person Ging was, and also what kind of empty promises that he made.

Ging thrust open the door, carefully trying to not knock his son over, and scooped Gon into his arms. Gon slung his arms around Ging's thick neck, locking his fingers in an embrace that refused to give.

"Hey kiddo," Ging said, "Did you miss me?"

"More than you'll ever know dad! And you kept your promise!"

"Oh I did more than that, son." Ging stared at Mito's somberly presence, haunting the door frame. He waved to her as the wind brushed her hair in front of her eyes, allowing it to hide the tears that appeared in her corners. She lifted an arm back, wiping her face in the process, before heading over towards the duo.

"Glad you made it back safe and sound, Ging," she said, pulling him into an embrace, "Gon's been waiting around for you all morning."

"Oh yeah?" Ging pulled back and ruffled Gon's hair, setting his feet firmly on the ground. "A pinky promise is a promise, son. And you know us Freecs don't play around with that."

"Mmmhmm!" Gon's irises were replaced by stars that only shined for his monumental father, a place that not even Mito herself dared to come close to. Seeing his dad here and knowing that he would never leave him behind again caused a train wreck of emotions that collided into a tangle as tears cascaded down his cheeks.

"Hey now," Ging bent down and wiped the fresh rivers that were now streaming on his white shirt, "what's the waterworks for?"

"Sorry, dad, Aunt Mito," Gon said sniffling, wiping his face with the back of his hand, "I'm just really happy now. I get to live with you again, right?"

"Of course you do, son," Ging pulled him into a hug, looking up at Mito who was trying to swallow down her own sentiment, "and it won't be just you and I either."

Gon pulled back, sniffling his last bit of cries and rubbing his eyes. "What do you mean, dad?"

"Yes," Mito said, her eyebrow rose in confusion, "what do you mean?"

Ging stood straight, clearing his throat and fixing his cap. "I found her, Mito."

Mito's words caught in the ladder of her throat, causing her to clear it so that she could form a tangible sentence. "You found who?"

"Come on, don't act like that," Ging crossed his arms and rubbed his stubbled chin, flashing her a toothy smile, "I found Reina."

Mito's eyes widened in shock, her hand barricading her cave of a mouth. "You found her? Where, how? I mean… I thought she didn't want to be found… what does this all mean?"

"Who's Reina?" Gon looked back and forth between Ging and Mito, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, to answer both of your questions," Ging scooped Gon up again, a prideful smile stealing his face, "It means that we'll finally have the family that I deserve, that Gon deserves. And Reina, Gon," he pressed his forehead against Gon's, "is the love of my life. But more importantly, she's your mother."

"My mother?" The words were foreign on his tongue, a taste that he had yet to acquire. Gon knew his father, he knew Mito, and those were the only parental figures that he needed. Anyone else were extras in his play.

"Yes, son, she's your mother. A long time ago, before you were even thought of, we were madly in love. And after years of sharing that love, we found out we were expecting you. But sometimes, Gon," he sat him back down, evening to his eye level, "some people get afraid of responsibilities and run away. And it doesn't mean they don't care or that they're bad people, sometimes they just need a little time to think things over. And that's exactly what I've given your mother: time."

"Ten year's worth of time, " Mito replied bitterly, her hands clutching into fists, "ten years without a phone call, a letter, nothing. Why would you want someone back who left Ging? She left her son like he was an unwanted item at a grocery store, one that you and I have raised for ten years!"

"Because," Ging replied somberly, " I still love her."

"Love? Love!?" Mito ran her hands down her face in irritation, groaning at Ging's stupidity. "How can you love someone who doesn't even love her own son!?" She realized the harshness of her words before looking down at Gon, his lip trembling. She gasped and covered her mouth, bending down and pulling him into a tight embrace. This time, she did not stop the ocean as it pooled out of her eyes. "Oh no, I didn't mean that, Gon. I'm so sorry, you're plenty loved, do you hear me?"

She felt him nod under her embrace, but his limp body told her that she had the magic words to break the boy.

"She was afraid, Gon, just like you and I get afraid. Maybe she's ready now, but if she's not, I want you to always remember that you are loved, okay? I love you more than the air I breathe, and don't ever forget it."

"Okay, Aunt Mito," Gon whispered against her hair, "it's okay."

Ging cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. Mito released the hug, squeezing one last time for good measure, and stood. "I understand your reservations, Mito, I really do, but you've gotta trust me here, okay? I don't think she's the same person."

"You don't think?" Mito sighed, "please don't tell me—"

"I didn't want to scare her off, Mito."

"Well what do you think will happen when you show up with Gon?"

"I don't know, okay?" Ging took off his hat and ruffled his hair. "Look, I can't say for certain what will happen, but I also know I won't get anywhere if I never even try. Reina and I have too much history here."

And yet, she still left you and Gon, didn't she? Mito wanted to say those words, in fact they sat at the edge of her tongue waiting to leap off of the cliff, but the look in Ging's eyes told her that he could not be swayed.

Ging lent a hand out to Gon, smiling the most natural grin he could muster. "So son, are you ready? Because it's time for us to be a family again, and it's time to go meet your mother."

Killua pressed the stack of papers closely against his chest, careful so they did not fall to his feet as he ascended the stairs. I hope this is enough to convince them.

The light was on in his father's study, an invitation to step inside to the cool greyed room. Silva sat at his desk, his thick hands covering his face as Kikyo looked out of the window, her lips slowly moving. Silva shook his head, groaning as he ran his fingers through his hair. Killua's chest tensed at the thick atmosphere, pressing his body against the wall to better listen to the hushed conversation.

"We have to do this, Silva," Kikyo said, sighing, "what other choice do we have?"

"You mean other than continue to raise her? You talk as if she's not our daughter."

"Of course she's our daughter, I was there," Kikyo turned and walked towards Silva, standing behind him and placing both hands on his shoulders. Her thin fingers worked their way into a massage, feathers soothing steel. "But that also means we have to do what's best for her."

"Best for her?" Silva turned in his seat, causing Kikyo's hands to fall, "or best for you?"

"Best for this family," Kikyo stepped back and painted her face in awe, "or have you forgotten Netero's words? Without him, there's no way we can make enough to last for a full year. Do you know how many tenants moved to this mountain in the past six months alone?"

"Yes I know. I also know that they are richer than the houses on this block combined, and most of them have already invested twenty percent into the council. We don't need Netero's money, Kikyo."

"And how long do you think that will last us, Silva? They're going to want to see a profit being made and we can't give them that without Netero's organization. The last thing you want," she narrowed her eyes, driving her last argument further in, "is to wind up in a scandal and destroy everything your father worked so hard to rebuild."

Silva took a deep sigh, muttering to himself and standing from the seat. "I don't like this, Kikyo."

"Well," she said, eyeing the floor, "sometimes we have to do things we don't like."

"At the expense of your own daughter?"

"You heard the filth that came out of her mouth, right? I have never in my life heard a six year old speak such evil! She needs more than what we can give her. And that Nanika nonsense? Where does that come from?"

"I can answer that," Killua bashfully stepped into the room, gaining the shocked faces from his parents. He walked to Silva's desk and dropped the stacks of papers in the middle.

"Killua," Kikyo took a deep breath and massaged her temples, "it is very rude to eavesdrop on adult conversation, any conversation."

"I didn't mean to, Mother, but I found something about Alluka that might help her."

Silva picked up the first paper, his eyes slowly scanning the words. He ran a tongue over his bottom lip before picking up another page. "MPSD?"

"What is that an acronym for?" Kikyo picked up the first page, following in Silva's mannerisms and soaking the information in.

"It means Multiple Personality Disorder. I went to the library at school and had the librarian look it up for me. All of the symptoms match what Alluka is going through."

"It says here that certain triggers can cause a person to slip into another being entirely," Silva sat as he continued to read everything over, "sort of like that game she and Netero were playing."

"And her other personality is called Nanika," Killua pointed to a highlighted sentence on the page, his growing finger wobbling over the words, "and this says that it can change a person's voice, appearance and behaviors. It all adds up."

Kikyo glanced over Silva's shoulders at the rest of the papers, her eyes narrowing further. "This isn't good. So she is mentally ill?"

"Don't say such atrocities as if it's a bad thing," Silva threatened, "she can't help the way she was made."

"No she can't," Kikyo whispered, "but we can do something."

"So," Killua smiled, his chest dancing with hope, "does that mean that you'll take her to a doctor? You know, one that she can talk to?"

Kikyo inhaled, motioning for Killua to sit on the couch. She looked at Silva for support, but the silver haired man kept his eyes glued at his desk. "Silva," she said, "have we come to an agreement?"

"You're going to do whatever you want to anyways," Silva sighed, standing to leave, "so what is the point in asking?"

Kikyo grumbled before turning her attention back to Killua. "Kil, sweetie," she pulled him into a hug, "you know Mother loves you very much. Mother loves all of her children very much."

"Mmmm," Killua replied, feeling the poison that cuddled her words, "what's going on Mother?"

"Do you like living on the Mountain, Kil?"

Killua shrugged his shoulders. "It's okay. I haven't lived anywhere else, so it's all I know. I like playing in the garden with Alluka."

"I see," Kikyo's lips pursed, "well you don't want us to ever be homeless, do you?"

"No," Killua looked down, "I don't think I would like that."

"Good. Your father and I don't want that to happen either. In fact, we want nothing but the best for you children, with successful lives and a promising future on the council. That's we had Mr. Netero over yesterday; he's very important to us keeping our home and mountain and all of the wonderful things we have. But," she paused, circling her tongue over her words to only pull out the sweet ones, "your sister may prevent that from happening. And that is why your father and I have decided to send Alluka to another family, one that can help her better."

"What do you mean?" Killua's eyes watered, pulling from his mother's embrace and turning to face her directly. "You don't want Alluka anymore?"

"Alluka is sick, honey," Kikyo caressed his face, as if her fingers could soothe the sadness, "and we don't have the resources to help her."

"But," Killua's alligator tears spilled from his eyes, his cheeks puffing with crimson, "we have so much money! Can't we just hire someone to fix her?"

"It's not that simple, Kil," Kikyo pulled her hand back and looked out the window, "and our decision is final. I suggest that you spend what little time you have left with her."

Killua stared into his mother's face, searching for answers to the many questions she had. Kikyo had a peach blush that adorned her cheeks, and red lipstick that stained her lips, but in between her perfectly filled pores, he found nothing.

"Mother," he chimed, his voice thick, "you can't."

Kikyo turned her head down at him, her brown eyes pulling him in. "But sweetie, we will."

Killua looked over to his father's empty desk, the stack of papers still scattered about. He felt his stomach greet his feet, and felt the urge to flee the situation, running as fast as his feet would allow.

He descended the stair case, nearly bumping into the figure that darkened the bottom step.

"Alluka," he breathed.

She turned her head slowly, and Killua gasped.

Dried blood crusted her nostrils, and her cheeks were purple, almost as if the child had taken to her face with a crayon, mistaking her pale skin for a canvas. Her bottom lip was red and swollen, and her eyes were droopy with tears. Killua felt the breath catch in the back of his throat, a lump that wouldn't dissipate no matter how many times he swallowed.

"Big Brother…" she said hoarsely, before breaking and sobbing.

Killua instinctively wrapped his arms around her, picking her small body up and carrying her out of the mansion and into the garden outside. Setting her down in the flowers, Killua couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the beautiful yellow plants and the beaten up body of his small sister. She was still sobbing, her tears flowing from her cheeks and into the grass below.

"Alluka," Killua managed to untangle his words and say, "what happened?"

"I was playing too roughly again," she cried through her broken tears, "and I fell."

"Stop it," Killua clenched his teeth, bending his head so that his hair invaded his eyes, "stop lying to me and tell me the truth."

Alluka cuddled up to his thigh, placing her head into his lap. She continued to let the tears fall, and Killua felt a choking lump in the back of his own throat. He ran his fingers through her hair, sshing her cries in an attempt to soothe her. She whimpered against his touch, and he drew his fingers back to see his prints stained with a light red liquid.

"Alluka," he whispered, his eyes widening in horror, "tell me, please."

"I was bad again," she whispered, her voice thick with tears, "I was bad again and I was punished."

"What are you talking about?" Killua fought to keep his voice calm, but the fragile state of his sister was causing his veins to run electrifyingly hot. "Who punished you?"

"I was bad, Big Brother. I let Nanika come out again, when I was told not to. I was trained to not let her come out and play, but she begged me, Big Brother, and I didn't want to tell her no."

"Explain slowly, Alluka. Tell me everything." She sobbed harder against his pant leg, the fabric going damp against his skin. "It's okay, Alluka. It's just me here, and you can trust your big brother."

"But I'm so scared," she whispered, hugging the fabric tighter, "I'm scared. I don't want any more lessons."

His chest contracted with her words, a certain line registering in his mind.

After our lessons, of course…

"Illumi," the name came out as a whisper on his tongue, tasting bitter and venomous, "Did Illumi do this to you?"

She slowly nodded, new tears cascading down her face. "He gives me lessons," she said through her tears, "so that I won't let Nanika out."

"What kind of lessons?" Killua asked, although he was afraid of the answer that would escape her lips.

"He hits me," she whispered, "he says that he can get it out of me and that Nanika has to be punished. I was supposed to never tell anyone, or he would give me more lessons."

Killua felt his stomach tighten, his teeth crashing against each other, gritting in anger. He pulled Alluka closer, as if he could smother away the pain and relocate her to a happier place. He felt powerless, as if he indeed failed his duties as an older brother.

No, he reprimanded himself, I'm not the older brother that has failed.

"After Mr. Netero left," she breathed into his leg, "Illumi was very angry. He said that I had to get punished more because I ruined everything." She choked back a sobbing sound, "but I didn't mean to, Big Brother! I promise I didn't!"

"Don't," Killua exhaled, and the tears came without warning, "don't apologize, Alluka. You don't deserve this, you don't deserve any of this. You're better than all of them. You deserve better than this." He brought his head down on top of hers, sobbing into her hair. "I'm sorry, Alluka. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you and Nanika. It's my job to make sure you're alright and I failed." How can I make this up to you?

"I just wish," she whispered, "that I could live this way with Big Brother forever and ever. No one else, just Alluka and Killua." And Nanika.

Killua rehearsed her words over and over again in his head, a lemniscate of colorful text floating around in his brain. Everything hurt; the discovery of Alluka's bruises, the cruel intentions of Illumi, his parent's decision to rid themselves of Alluka, everything was a lump too big to swallow. Killua's mind raced, etched with decision upon decision, a dead end road at every corner. How can I fix this?

There had to be a way, he knew there had to be a way, for he and Alluka to spend the rest of their lives, unbothered, as happy as they were lounging around in the garden.

There had to be a way to preserve the bliss.

There had to…

"Alluka," he whispered against her black hair, several strands intruding his mouth, "I know how I can make that happen."

Ging's car stalled in front of a large yellow house, the front yard decorated with multi colored gnomes and benches, flowers sprouting from various pots. It looked like the homes that graced the pages of books that Mito would read him, and Gon pressed his palms against the glass in awe.

"Does she live here, dad? Does my mother live here?"

Ging nodded, placing the car in park and glancing out of the window over Gon's head. "This is the place, 1702 Oak Trail Lane." Ging looked down at the paper in his hand and took a deep breath. "Now I want you to wait in the car for me, Gon, okay?"
Gon turned and pouted, his large brown irises dilating. "Do I have to, dad?"

Ging ruffled his hair. "Don't make that face. When I come back, I'll have your mother with me, and then you can meet her properly, okay? It'll be about ten minutes."

Gon nodded, sulking in his seat. Ging took one last look at his son, wondering where the time passed since Reina announced her pregnancy. Now he stood in front of the home of a ghost, as Mito put it, wondering if he could revisit old memories and create new ones.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, his knees wobbling with anxiety. He pressed down on his shirt, smoothing any wrinkles and fixed his hair. He made his way up the path, taking in the various decorations that greeted his trail. At least Reina has done well for herself.

He took a deep breath, mentally pushing himself forward before ringing the bell. He waited a spell before pressing it again, a honeyed voice from the other side telling him to wait.

His heart stopped as his chest constricted, the familiarity of the sweet voice knocking him back. It's as beautiful as I remember.

A woman opened the door, her dark green hair cascading with curls down her face. Her eyes were large and golden, almost orange in certain light, and her skin was magnificently painted with foundation. She stared in shock at Ging, smoothing out the front of her red dress.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered, her eyes darting wildly.

"Is that any way to greet me?" Ging chuckled, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. "It's been so long, Reina."

She cleared her throat, looking over her shoulder nervously before settling her eyes back on Ging. "It has been a long time, Ging. Long enough that I never expected to see you again."

"I can imagine," Ging rubbed the back of his neck, slicking down thick unruly black strands of hair, "but it feels so good to look at you again all the same. You're still so beautiful, Reina."

"You shouldn't be here." She said the words quickly and hushed, each one slapping Ging across the cheek.

"You can't mean that," Ging said, half laughing, "there's no way you could turn us down after all of this time."

"Us?" Her eyes widened.

"Yes, us. I brought our son along, Reina. He's in the car."

She looked behind him, glancing at the boy in the passenger seat who looked all too familiar, bringing back a pain that she had long buried. She licked her bottom lip and moved a curl out of her face. Her brows lowered to an angry expression and she took a deep breath. "Ging, I-"

"Honey?" A tall, bald, muscular man appeared behind Reina, adorned in a blue suit, and placed his arm around her waist. He kissed her cheek and looked back and forth between her and Ging. "Everything okay?"

"Is he," Ging felt his heart split, a fragile paper organ that was impossible to fix, "your boyfriend?"

"Her husband," the man corrected, extending a hand, "Hanzo."

"Husband…" Ging whispered, the words curling over his tongue like a fly that flew into his mouth without invitation.

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"He's an old friend, darling," Reina tightened her face, a threat to play along, "he was in the neighborhood and decided to say hello. We haven't seen each other in probably eight years!"

"Ten," Ging spat, "it's been ten years, Reina."

"Such a long time!" Hanzo beamed. "Well, come on in! Any friend of Reina is a friend of ours, and I'm sure you two have much catching up to do."

"Honey, that really won't be necessary-"

"Nonsense," he leaned over Reina and pushed Ging along inside, "I just finished making lunch and there's more than enough to share, especially with the kids spending the day at their grandparents."

"Kids?" Ging felt dizzy and was glad Hanzo was there to support his weight.

"Yeah we have two boys and a little girl. They're from my previous marriage, but Reina here has been in their lives for the majority of their childhood." Hanzo walked Ging to the kitchen , beaming every step of the way.

"How old are they?" Ging asked in a daze.

"My oldest is going on fifteen now and my youngest is eleven. Time sure does fly. You got any kids?"

"Your youngest is eleven," Ging repeated, looking over at Reina who sulked by the doorway to the kitchen. He looked at her and imagined flames swallowing her whole. "Which means that you two got together around the last time I saw her." Around the time she abandoned me and our son.

"Yeah when I saw her," Hanzo pulled her into an embrace as she filled their plates with food, "I thought to myself, who is this ethereal being? I just had to have her, she was dating some loser at the time, some down on his luck bastard who couldn't keep a job, and I stepped in and swooped her off of her feet. Showed her how a lady should be treated, isn't that right honey?"

"Mmm," Reina smiled forcefully, her lips painted in a tight line.

"Some loser? A bastard?" Ging's eyes angrily darted to Reina, accusation swimming underneath. "Is that what you told him, Reina?"

"Ging…"

"Tell me the truth, damnit! You told him that bullshit!?"

"Whoa, buddy," Hanzo reached his hand across the counter, "calm down now. Why are you so angry?"

"Why am I so angry!? Maybe it's because this down and out loser bastard is discovering that the woman he loved all of these years is a fucking monster."

"Excuse me?" Hanzo's eyes narrowed dangerously, stepping closer. "Just what the hell is going on?"

"Tell him, Reina."

"I think it's time," Reina stepped in between them, acting as protection, "for you to go, Ging."

"Not until you tell him, damnit! Tell him about us. About your son."

Reina's face dropped, her stomach doing flips.

"Your son?" Hanzo said quietly, "Reina, do you—"

"No," she replied sternly, her voice coming through scratchy and uneven, "he's lying. He always comes around to make my life miserable."

"What the hell is with you Reina?!" Ging screamed, wrapping his fingers around his hair. "What happened to the woman I loved? When did you turn into such a cold bitch?"

"Okay, whoever the hell you are," Hanzo interrupted, "get the hell out of my house right now!"

"I am not leaving," Ging placed his palm against the counter, his stance planted firmly, "until she tells the fucking truth."

Hanzo reached into his pocket and disappeared into the cupboard behind them. When he emerged, he was carrying a small pistol, fitting snuggly in his palms, the barrel aimed at Ging.

"Hanzo!" Reina yelled. "Put that away!"

"Not until he gets the hell out of my house. I see the stories were true," he smiled sinisterly, "you're just a piss poor excuse of a man who doesn't know when he's lost. Get the fuck out of my house before I spill your blood on our freshly tiled kitchen floor."

Ging felt his blood run hot, his breathing becoming more rapid. Before thinking, he lunged at Hanzo, causing him to fire immediately. Ging dodged at the last moment, tackling a stunned Hanzo to the ground and punching him in the face.

"You ruined everything, you bastard! You took my love away from me and you ruined my son's chance at a family!" Ging continued his tirade of punches until a soft gurgling sound caused him to look over.

"H-Hanzo…" Reina lay in a pool of blood, the same dark burgundy as her dress, her eyes opened wide in horror. She looked at her husband, her arm reaching out and the other clutching her stomach.

"R-Reina!" Hanzo muttered underneath Ging's weight, finding his strength and flipping him off. He made his way over to his wife, his knees wobbly against the tile, and tilted her head into his lap. "Reina, honey…."

She attempted to speak to him, but blood caught into a gurgle into her throat, pooling out of the sides of her mouth like fresh paint. Ging watched the scene in disbelief; was the Reina that he knew and loved, even despite her flaws, laying in a pool of her own blood dying?

Was he the cause of it?

Hanzo cradled her hand into his, pressing her figure against his own and crying out into agony. He stilled for a moment, his back to Ging's as he broke out into a sob and dropped Reina's hand, her limp palm smacking against the wet floor in a sickening sound. Hanzo screamed, a blood curdling cry, hugging Reina close against his body. "You!" he said deadly, standing up and carefully setting Reina down. "You did this! If you had never come, my wife would still be alive!"

He lurched forward, his arms reaching out for Ging's neck. Ging, in little reaction time, reached for the gun and fired a singular shot, a hole in the middle of his head emerging with blood. He dropped to the floor instantly, his arm still reaching out in Ging's direction.

Ging looked onward in shock and horror, his staggering hand grappled over the gun. His muscles rolled unsteadily, the pulse of his veins throbbing at his wrists. His fingers trembled as he rolled the handle over in his palms, looking down at the executioner. Sweat beads poured over the smooth curves of his forehead, making their way downward and lodging into the spaces between his nose and cheek. In that brief moment, he thought of Gon in all of his ten years: the moment Reina said she was pregnant, his first walks, the first time he said "Dad", when he went to school for the first time. And then he thought of all the moments that he would miss.

"I'm sorry Gon," he said softly, "be good. I love you."

And then, there was a shot.

Killua piled their bodies in the backseat of the family car and shut the door. Alluka drowsily rested her head on his shoulder, thanks to the cold medicine he gave her. He smoothed out her hair, propping her up against the back seat. He leaned over, the key fumbling in his fingers. He turned back to Alluka and smiled half heartedly. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded, her eyes droopy on the edge of sleep. "I'm ready, Big Brother."

Killua licked his lips, his heart beating roughly against his chest. He took a deep breath and turned the key into the ignition and starting it. He looked above for the remote control, pressing the button for garage door. He watched the door slowly fall as the hum of the engine rolled over softly in his ears. As the gap to the outside narrowed, he felt his stomach tighten further. There is no turning back now.

He leaned back against the seat, repositioning Alluka's head against his shoulder blade. She looked up at him again, her blinking slowing down and her eyes staying shut longer. "What now, Big Brother?" she whispered sleepily, "What do we do now?"

He caressed the side of her face, kissing the top of her forehead. Her skin was smooth, the color of milk, and she smelled like berries. A tear raced down his face and fell on his collar bone.

"Now we wait," he whispered against her forehead, "and then we sleep."

Gon anxiously tapped the interior of the car, looking back over at the house. It was so silent now, compared to when he saw Ging go inside. It had to have been about an hour, and Ging had only told him ten.

He wouldn't be that mad, if I went inside. It's hot.

He unbuckled his seat belt and raced to the door, excited that he could meet his mother. Not that he had paid much thought to it, but Ging seemed very excited at the idea, and if he was happy then so was Gon.

He knocked on the white door, his fist barely making a loud thump. When he received no answer, he turned the knob, feeling the door ease open like melting butter.

"Dad?" He called out, looking down the long hallway. A light was on in the room to the left, but other than that, the house was so eerily quiet.

"Dad?" Gon called out louder again, fixating his ears on trying to hear the faintest indication of a conversation. Instead he heard the humming of an air conditioner unit, louder than he would have liked.

"Dad! I came inside because it was too hot!" He called again, and still nothing. He made his way down the hall, taking in the various art works that decorated the walls. He followed the light, peeking around the corner to see a stove.

"Dad, are you in here?" Gon stepped into the room, almost tripping over a shoe, a high heel like the ones Mito wore.

A high heel that was still attached to a foot.

Gon screamed at the lifeless body of Reina, before noticing that Hanzo wasn't too far away. "DAD! PLEASE COME SAVE ME!"

Gon's eyes betrayed his thoughts, slowly following the trail of Hanzo's palm to the man in front.

The cap, the thick hair, the blue shirt…

"D-dad?" Gon choked, his chest feeling heavy and his throat closing. He approached slowly, kneeling down next to the body. Ging's eyes were still opened, staring blankly at a space in the wall. Gon reached out to touch him, his eyes flooding with tears. "Come on dad, wake up." His voice became thicker as he shook Ging, a sloshing wet sound emerging as a result.

He didn't move.

He didn't wake up.

In that moment, Gon felt hopeless, a sinking weight pressing down in his belly. Everything that he wanted, everything he had waited for...

Gone.

Emptiness set in like an old friend, warm and inviting yet distant and cold. His hero, his entire reason for wanting to grow up big and strong, laid in a lifeless puddle.

Gon had seen this type of thing before in movies and on television, but he never thought he would see it in person. He never thought he would see it with his father….

Death….

And Gon did the only thing he knew that he could do.

He ran.

"Will they be all right?"

"Yes, although I must say you've reached them in time. Any longer, and I don't think they would still be here."

"Thank God. Thank you, doctor."

The voices swam through Killua's head, pulling him out of his nap. They sounded so faint and distant, but when he opened his eyes, he saw they were right next to his…bed?

His eyes shot open fully, and his throat hurt to talk. He made a low grumbling sound, catching the attention of the figures, who he noticed were his parents and Gotoh.

"Master Killua!"

"Oh, Kil!"

"Killua, son!"

Killua looked at them as his eyes fluttered open and shut, and he realized he was tired. What was the last thing? What happened last?

Kikyo sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed out his hair, her eyes blinking away tears. "Oh, Killua, what were you thinking?"

Killua shook his head, trying to remember what he had done. The images piled together in a time loop: the car, Alluka's bruises, starting the ignition, closing the door.

Oh yes, he recalled, he had tried to end it.

So what had gone wrong?

"Gotoh found you, son," Silva said, almost as if he had clairvoyance, "he found the both of you before it was too late."

Killua looked over at Gotoh, an apology laced underneath his irises. Small droplets of tears started to make their way through, and Gotoh wiped them away with a napkin.

"It's okay, Master Killua. You're safe now."

Killua shook his head again, tears streaming down his face. He wanted to ask about Alluka, but it hurt to talk. He ferociously shook his head until Silva walked over and calmed him.

"Son," he said softly, "did you do this because of the news your Mother gave you?"

"No, Silva!" Kikyo looked at Kikyo in disbelief. "Don't make me the cause of this. He did this because of Alluka."

"What the hell does she have to do with this, Kikyo? He was trying to kill them both!"

Kikyo motioned for him to lower his voice and tame the beast that was emerging. "Are you trying to get us kicked out, Silva? Alluka is very bruised and she probably coerced him into doing it!"

"Actually, madam," Gotoh raised a finger, "I believe this may have something to do with it." He reached inside of his coat and pulled out a notebook, Illumi's name scrawled on the front.

Kikyo snatched it out of his palms, impatiently fingering it open and reading the text.

"Where did you get this, Gotoh," she snapped, her teeth clenched. "Have you been snooping through our things?"

"It fell out of Master Illumi's pocket during the wash, Madam," Gotoh replied, his face never breaking and his stance still firm.

"What does it say, Gotoh?" Silva pondered, his arms crossed and his voice deep.

"It's a diary," Kikyo answered, "a record of Alluka's lessons. Apparently he has been taking matters into his own hands and…punishing…Alluka."

"My god," Silve turned and wiped his mouth, pacing in anger. "How long has this been going on?"

"I don't know, Master Silva," Gotoh approached Silva carefully, "but I believe that Master Killua found out, and this is the only way he could escape it."

"Oh, Killua," Kikyo placed a palm against his cheek, before turning back to Silva. "Silva, I believe that we should move to your plan B."

Silva whirled around, his face shocked. "Plan B? You're still thinking about Alluka? Kikyo, Illumi harmed our daughter!"

"For our family, Silva. It was to help out our family!"

Silva's face dropped, recognition seeping into his pores. "You….you knew?"

Kikyo sighed, placing her hands firmly against her lap. "I didn't know he was taking it this far."

Silva mouthed a curse, walking over to the window and slamming his fist against it. "What the hell is wrong with you Kikyo!?"

"It was either that or deal with her messing up our lives, Silva! I only asked him to scare her into never speaking of Nanika again, I didn't know he would take it that far."

Silva raced forward, causing Kikyo to leap back in fear that he would hit her. Instead, he waved a thick finger in front of her face, his teeth tightly grinding against each other.

"She is not going anywhere, Kikyo. She will stay in our mansion," he dropped his finger and sighed, racing his finger through his hair. "But in the apartment below."

Kikyo nodded, fear still coursing through her veins and throbbing against her neck. She turned slowly to Killua, grabbing his hand. His body felt weak, but he wanted to snatch it away and run out of the room. His IV dripped again into his arm, and he felt the grogginess of sleep take over him.

"Get some sleep, Kil. You're safe and sound now, and now Alluka will be too."

His eyes fluttered open again as he took in the image of his mother, minus the horns that he knew adorned the top of her head. She leaned over and rubbed his forehead.

"Don't worry, Kil, we finally know how to help Alluka."

It had been a month since that day, since Gon had ran to the neighbors and urged them to call the police. After much calling around, Mito was finally reached, and she came to the police station to retrieve the trembling boy. She had scooped him into her embrace, hugging him tightly with no intention on letting go. Even though she didn't say it, Gon could feel the words spilling from her fingertips, tiny secrets that she would chew on before she slept.

I knew something bad would happen, and this is why I didn't want him to go.

A month of being a part of a media circus frenzy had taken its toll on Mito, and she decided that a fresh start would be best for the both of them. She packed all of their belongings and moved them to Whale Island, a place where people went to retire and get away from their everyday lives. The perfect place for Gon to start over.

Gon wasn't the same cheerful boy he was, and why should he be? Mito had no idea how to get him rolling again, how to give him the future that was so drearily far away.

But damn it if she wouldn't try.

She cooked his favorite foods, played his favorite games, exhausted herself beyond the brinks of sleep to make sure that he felt some semblance of a childhood. Little by little, she saw the cracks in his sentiment, but the sadness still covered him like a second skin.

She watched him, the glow of his skin fading, the black of his hair starting to match the toned down honeyed eyes.

Mito wondered, if Gon would ever be whole again?

Would she ever be whole again?

How do we bounce back from this?

She had a new little boy to raise, and a new puzzle to fix. And in the back of Mito's mind, she hoped that someday, someday, Gon would put this behind him and move on.

She hoped that one day the headlines would forget about the Small Town Massacre and the Heartbreak Kid, as the media so eloquently put it.

She wanted Gon to have nothing to do with that, so this was the life she would create for them.

Mito just willfully hoped that the decisions would not swallow him in the process.

GUYS, THIS WAS REALLY HARD TO WRITE

IM SORRY IN ADVANCE IF THIS WAS TOO MUCH FOR SOME READERS, BUT NOW YOU GUYS ALL KNOW THE SECRETS. (A LOT OF YOU GUYS YELLED AT ME TO ANSWER THEM LOL HOPE I DELIVERED! :D)

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS CHAPTER, AND I HOPED I ANSWERED THE QUESTIONS YOU HAD!

THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOO MUCH GUYS FOR ALL OF THE REVIEWS THIS TIME AROUND! YOU GUYS MADE ME DAY TIME AND TIME AGAIN! ITS SUCH AN AMAZING THING TO KNOW THAT I CAN BE DOING DAILY RANDOM THINGS, AND ILL CHECK MY EMAIL AND READ REVIEWS OR KUDOS OR FAVORITES ETC AND ITS SO COOL TO KNOW SOMEONE LIKED WHAT IM READING! THE BEST FEELING EVER!

THANKS TO ALL OF MY NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS! IF YOU GUYS EVER WANT TO CONNECT ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS, LET ME KNOW! I LOVE MEETING NEW PEOPLE!

PLEASE REVIEW, GOOD OR BAD, AND CONTINUE TO BE YOUR AWESOME SELVES!

(ALSO LONGEST CHAPTER AWARD! WHEEW! *WIPES FOREHEAD*)

UNTIL NEXT TIME, FRIENDS!

~BITCHII-USA