AN/

Killua has his small meeting with Hanzo and remembers just how wily their bald leader really is. Gon finally wakes after the incident but there's something completely out of the ordinary on his mind. A mystery that Gon; as determined as always, intends to figure out.

Oops. This is late. And short. The next few following chapters are much longer; your eyes might water from the strain of reading so many words lol. So settle for this small part until I crank out the bigger stuff. My plot is finally unfolding yippee. Sorry for the lateness and enjoy.

A brittle, broken Catalyst

8

"Killua."

"Hanzo."

"Killua."

"Hanzooooooo..." The 'o' was drawn out for so long that it made Killua's voice vibrate, deep in his throat, until eventually subsiding until his voice squeaked. "Bald man."

The bald man face palmed, covering up his chuckle. "Really? Was that necessary?"

"Not really."

"You're being honest for a change. I'm impressed." Hanzo quirked a brow, pen tapping on the replacement table he was using now instead of the shattered remains of his old desk. "Did something happen I should know about to change your attitude? Normally you're giving me the cold-distant look we are all so familiar with."

"Guess today I just didn't feel like playing as the usual old me, then." Killua furrowed his brow like he was offended, squirming in the only chair left in such a mess of what would be an office if it didn't look like a train hit it, "Are you going to get to the point of dragging me here? Your place is an absolute wreck." A tiny laugh. "Did you get in a fight or somethin'? Throw a temper tantrum? Forget to have your morning cup of coffee and have a rage fit?"

The leader shook his head, dropping his writing instrument on the cool plastic frame, hands splaying over the papers scattered there in thought. "None of that actually. But nice try! It's not really anything to be concerned about it. If you want to, call it, an experiment."

"An experiment? What kind of experiment demolishes a room until it's nothing but ruins?"

"A helpful experiment, actually." Hanzo smirked, leaning forward with his chin on his hands. Was he taunting him? With that look he had to be taunting him. "Are you interested?"

Killua's eyes narrowed suspiciously, knowingly, but he remained motionless in his seat, not taking the bait. "No. I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on Killua, that's no fun."

"I'm not here to alleviate your boredom. I'm here because you; the leader of our faction, called for me. So what is it?"

"Just take a guess at least. I'm really curious to know."

Sighing in defeat, because Killua knew Hanzo was like some incurable prankster, he resigned and gave in. They didn't have much else to do when not infiltrating bases and rescuing prisoners from the clutches of carnivorous mutant Ants. He might as well follow along, too. He had nothing better to do, anyway, stuck in the same predicament as everyone else wound up in this crazy war. "It has to do with your newly acquired special-detainee prisoner, Gon Freecs, doesn't it? He's the one who wrecked your office."

"Oh? That's a pretty bold statement to accuse someone over, Killua. What makes you think that?"

Killua's facial expression boasted nothing but confidence and calmness in his posture as he spoke. His speculation was as natural as breathing, Hanzo knew. The kid was smart. "It's pretty obvious if you think about it. Kurapika and Leorio themselves mentioned that they just learned Gon could use Nen yesterday. Your room has obviously just been recently damaged, judging by the way the wall is still crumbling and the dirt is fresh. The splintered pieces of wood from your wrecked furniture is only coated in a layer of dust, estimating at least a day or two at best by the amount of coverage. The trees in the background have very recent burn marks on them. I can guess it was from a very large amount of Ren aura being extruded in very big but short bursts. There are also traces of leftover Nen still hanging in the air but it's very faint now. And lastly, seeing from the way you're looking at me while I'm saying this, you know I am correct. Gon must have unleashed his Nen yesterday, intentionally or not, and that is the reason why your office has been destroyed."

Hanzo's face showed how impressed he was without a hint of hesitation. "Wow. Perceptive as always. Just what I would expect from a highly trained Zoldyck assassin."

"Please refrain from associating me with those nimrods." The white-haired youth spoke immediately, averting his eyes from being caught by the others inquisitive one. "It's bad enough everyone knows my last name. It'd just be better if everyone forgot about it and moved on with their lives. It's not like it matters much anyway."

"You're still so defensive about them." The bald man's smile faltered, "That hasn't changed with age has it?"

Killua retorted without hesitation. "Why should it? All those selfish bastards want from me is to take over the family business. It ain't happening so they should stop trying already and leave me the hell alone. We're at war. They should be focusing more on that then their stinking underground shit. Now, are you going to tell me why you called me here or not? Because at this rate, it's going to be lunch and I'm starving."

A small sigh had Hanzo shaking his head, flicking at the tip of his pen so it spun circles on the tabletop. He was regretting what he had to say next, already knowing the outcome, but he had to say it anyway. Their squadron was already on tip-toes as it was with the Zoldycks just because Killua insisted to join so he could piss off his parents, but he didn't need to be walking on a thin wire next because of it.

"Well fine; as much as I detest telling you, your brother, Illumi, called for you. He wants to see you in the next few days when we board the ships to the Padokia Providence. Your home place, too, might I add. I don't think it's a coincidence, but I haven't pressed matters as of yet. However, he was very serious about meeting up with you from the way he spoke to me on the phone last. The Hunter Association and the Zoldycks have been arguing it out for some time and they finally placed Illumi onto a team. Unfortunately for us, it's the other Silver Squadron."

Killua's response came instantaneously. The teenager did little to hide his loud swear, teeth gnawing to draw blood from his lip. His reaction was easy to read now that every time the mention of his brother came up he would repeat it in practiced steps.

First, Killua's eyes would widen for a moment then narrow to mere slits. Usually a curse word or two would follow, muttered so low under his breath that only an expert ear could catch it. Then he would bite his lip, almost always drawing enough blood to slide down his chin. His chest would rise, shudder, and quickly settle as he exhaled a shaky breath. Hanzo guessed his heart rate sped up to a mile a minute, on top of all that.

And then like he normally would, Killua would up and leave without a word.

The kid was rising just as planned, not bothering to slow the quickness of his actions so the chair toppled to the ground. He was turning, feet aimed for the door when Hanzo set his hand down upon that tense shoulder, drawing another wobbly exhale from Killua. It was obvious he was struggling, but his self-control was unflappable. He could manage.

"I know you don't want to see him, but the fact is you know yourself you can't avoid it. Hell, I wish I could have avoided him during my time taking the Hunter exam. But he is a part of the Silver Squadron now, after all. They probably placed him on the attack team for a reason and we were bound to be forced to travel together at some point when making our rendezvous. That's why I have a proposition for you. It might win some favor over with your parents to at least keep you around a little longer. I know they've been hounding the Association enough as it is. But, you're an invaluable member to this squad and I'd like to do whatever I can in my power to prevent them from taking you away at a crucial time such as this. So, hear me out, will you?"

It took a few minutes for Killua to respond, visibly relaxing only a smidgen to speak with a quiet, hoarse tone. It was forced but it was a start. "What do you want me to do?"

It wasn't right away, but the sliest grin gradually wormed its way up the bald man's lips, leaning forward so his mouth hovered inches from Killua's ear in order to keep the volume low and his words soft. His face was darkened by his mischievous intent. The Zoldyck teen held back a shiver, back straightening and shoulders squared as crystal blue eyes made contact with the darker one of their leader. They exchanged glances, almost as if they were talking to each other through them, soundless.

It was then Killua, too, started to snicker when he realized exactly what Hanzo had planned.

The man could be predictable sometimes, but his wild streak was uncanny for a leadership quality. He still rocked what he got though.

"Just you wait, Killua. You're going to love it."

When Gon awoke some hours later, he found himself stretching the stiffness out of his limbs so far out he ended up knocking the full glass of water to the floor with a crash. The glass shattered and the noise-grating sound made the spiky-haired teen literally back flip over the opposite side, squealing in surprise.

Thunk.

Groan.

"Five more minutes..." Gon strained to mumble into the cool linoleum floor. From the bottom of his neck to the back of his head was a horrific throbbing pain, surely to result in a migraine sooner or later. The chill radiating against his cheek felt nice. He could lay here a few more minutes and pray the pain die out into a dull, manageable ache, save him the torture of waking up another day to hot-coals pricking his skin and blinding white agony all throughout his blood.

His nerves were on fire, he told himself. For whatever reason since yesterday, it was like his body had immersed itself in lava and had yet to cool down. He was burning, itching, and desperate for relief.

Even sleep had did little to curb the suffering.

He could clearly remember fighting his restlessness all throughout the day and night, constantly shifting and moving but nothing he did helped. Every time he thought he had found a comfortable position, he would drift off and spring back into a fit of wakefulness the second his eyes shut closed.

"This sucks." He said quietly to himself, finding that he was absolutely alone in the room. Gon could have sworn he heard Kurapika and Leorio's voices earlier in his sleep but they were nowhere to be seen now.

And someone else, too, for that matter...

A stranger with an icy tongue and a cool, level-headed tone. With a voice unnaturally soft for a male, he had almost second guessed himself on the gender until he heard his name.

Killua.

That name had been on his brain the moment he heard it, even imagining all sorts of visuals of what this Killua looked like in his dreams, but all of them just didn't sit right with him. They just didn't fit.

Gon would have to see for himself who this Killua is and get a real good look at him. Then he'd be certain, confirm his suspicions he was also undoubtedly male for that matter. Gon was never a good judge of character upon first impressions. He needed a few times reminder to get the point across his scattered brain. But once he let it sink in, he had the memory of an elephant. He would never forget it then. Trying to remember all the names of the people on Whale Island was the exception; however, there was just too many.

Regrettably; as much as he'd love to lay on the comforting floor all day long, Gon made an effort to push himself up and lean against the bed, pricking his nails against his arms in an effort to ward off that burning itchy feel where there are nonexistent bugs crawling by the thousands under your skin and just out of reach.

"Where did everyone go?" His words bounced on the empty, hollow walls of his solitary room. All of the cots that he remembered clearly having patients from Whale Island in them were now all abandoned. It was just him occupying the only still-clean bed.

"Weird." Gon commented to no one in particular, ignoring the ache in his bones to pull himself to his feet, albeit shakily, and hopped back onto the bed to take a better look around. Someone had left him water again in the now-broken glass and there was a fresh plate of breakfast foods on his bed stand; his memory too fuzzy to remember if that had been there this entire time or not. He reached forward, fingertips brushing over a piece of stray toast. Cold. It was way past morning if even the bread had lost its warmth.

He took a bite out of it anyway, stomach rumbling excitedly at the idea of getting something in it, so Gon hastily shoved the rest of the chilled pieces into his mouth and filled it with a few more other goodies until he was sated enough to feel less hungry. He ate fast to avoid the soggy grossness that always came when your food was no longer hot, so luckily he didn't have to linger on the sticky feeling that lingered in your mouth afterward.

Licking his parched lips, Gon glanced forlornly at the fallen glass of spilled water and pouted, cheeks puffed. "Now I'm thirsty but the water's on the floor. It doesn't look like anybody is coming back anytime soon. I guess I better go find some more then." He threw his legs back over the cleared space beside his bed and marched out with jelly legs, trying to get the feeling back into them despite the burning protests shooting from the tips of his toes up. Whatever was wrong with him he would be sure to ask about that, too.

But first, a drink.

Peeking out the door, Gon made sure the coast was clear, and headed for the outside in the same direction he had taken when he went to explore the forest surrounding the building complex. Maybe he would pay another visit to that large tree he had visited, using it as a perch to scout the campsite and environment for anything familiar or suspicious. Something to point him in the right direction.

It's original purpose was to help him find Aunt Mito and Abe, but now...

He felt some sort of odd power sparking at his fingertips, strange, alien almost, and he had to clench his fists in order to keep it at bay. Swallowing hard the lump stuck in his throat, Gon reminded himself, 'Don't think about it', and kept right on walking even when he pushed through the exit and stepped into the fresh autumn air of the forest outside. Taking in a big, refreshing gulp of air, Gon sighed heavenward, delighted to have the taste of pine and wood back on his tongue, deep in his nostrils. He would admit; he loved the forest life more than anything. This was his home. There was nothing like dirt and mud sticking to your skin, slick and smooth, and the wonderful, rich natural scents that were so much better compared to those smoggy, ashen smells of city life. Gon had never truly visited a city but the stories he heard were enough to make him cringe a little at the change.

He did still want to visit a city; however, at least to feel and see the proof for himself of what it was really like.

The crunch of the leaves under his boots had his heart fluttering, one with nature, as he strode purposefully through the camp grounds high on uplifted spirits. The pain from earlier sobered up, settling to small, bearable throbs, but not enough to inhibit him from making his way in search of water and answers. Maybe even possibly finding Kurapika or Leorio, anybody recognizable really. As long as he could stumble onto something or someone who could give him the help he needed.

"Hey," Gon stepped to the side, catching the first person to appear in the vicinity; a short man with a colorful turban over messy hair and a bow and quiver set slung over his shoulder. He flagged him down with a wave of his hand, luckily getting his attention right off the bat with his notion, "Can I ask you a question, please?"

"Sure." The man said, his brow raising curiously, "But can I ask your name first? I don't recognize you. You're not one of the hunters assigned to our group."

Laughing, Gon rubbed the back of his neck in his usual sheepish gesture, "Oops. Sorry about that. My name's Gon! Gon Freecs. I was one of those, uhm, prisoners you guys rescued a few days ago?"

"Gon Freecs.." The other nodded, absorbing the information thoughtfully, "I remember now! Kurapika told me about you. My name's Pokkle, second in command." He held out his hand, getting an exuberant shake from Gon in return. "It's nice to meet a such a young survivor from Whale Island. The people here all have been really nice to us since we freed them. It was great seeing so many generous people for a change. I was pleasantly surprised."

"Really? The people here on Whale Island are always really nice and cool. Even the people who pass through the port were very friendly and courteous, too, whenever I talked to them. I don't think there's ever been a bad person here before, ever. At least for how long I've lived here anyway."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that Gon. It's made our stay here enjoyable, even through the fact that we are pretty much at war right now. Whale Island is indeed a beautiful place to live in." Pokkle hummed, smiling somewhat. He liked this kid's enthusiasm. It was contagious.

Gon perked up, looking left and right excitedly. Hearing good things being said about Whale Island really boosted his moral. What bit of solemnity he was feeling earlier had been completely washed away now. Gon was focused on making the most of his situation. It was what his family would want for him to do, anyway.

"Where did the other Whale Island citizens go then?" he asked, head tilted in Pokkle's direction, "I didn't see them this morning when I woke up. All the beds were empty and I didn't see anybody else in any of the other rooms, either."

"You don't know?" Gon shook his head. "They were shipped out yesterday and this morning. The few that signed up to join the war's cause were sent off to the back lines for assessment and training. The remaining others went to Zevil Island's safe house, as far away as possible from the battlefield."

"I see... I didn't know."

"Don't worry about it too much, Gon. They're safe where they are going. The Hunter Association believes that safety of the world's ordinary citizens takes top priority, so they will have the best care you can imagine."

"No. It's not that I'm worried about." Gon said, honestly, staring to the side at nothing in particular.

"Then what's wrong?"

The black-haired teen scratched the side of his cheek, chuckling under his breath meekly. "I'm just not sure what I should be doing then, now that their all gone."

Pokkle blinked, adjusting the straps on his shoulders as he stepped forward to look down at the teenager matching close to his exact height. His aura wasn't anything impressive yet, but for someone inexperienced in Nen he had a serene flow to his, like a person who had control of himself even in the dire of situations. He noted the broadness of his shoulders, his confident posture, muscles taut and tense like an animal who had the trained inert desire to hunt; all this potential and power this boy possessed held back by the uncertainty flitting behind those golden eyes. Kurapika was right. This Gon Freecs would be a powerhouse once he learned to properly wield Nen. If he could just give himself some purpose; a reason to fight, he would give the Chimera Ants a run for their money.

"Gon." Pokkle spoke, snapping the adolescent from his daze, and chuckled in earnest at the puzzled expression he received, "I know it might not be of much help, but you should do what you believe is best for your own self. Trust your gut and run with it. I'm sure you'll figure out what it is you plan to do now in no time. Just don't spend too long thinking it over; this war is progressing pretty fast and it won't wait for you to decide your plan of action."

"If you say so." Gon replied monotonously, his face down cast in thought. "Thank you, Pokkle. Can I ask one last question?"

"Shoot."

He was debating on which question to ask and it was obviously a no-brainer for any normal sane person. But Gon wasn't normal. And he was mostly sane, he thinks. He just couldn't shake that scratchy feeling of his still digging under his skin, persistent. That nagging, I need to know, questioning that was grating on his nerves, pressuring and suffocating like a constricting snake who wound around his throat and squeezed out the things he really wanted to say but was too afraid to actually speak up for.

And he let it, against his will. The snake was much easier to obey then then the curious hound sniffing for the simpler, more understandable things. The smells you could track effortlessly were cast aside for the one far more intriguing and interesting. Much more mysterious.

And so Gon asked.

"Who's Killua?"