Sorry I couldn't update any sooner. Artist's block and running out of inspiration caused so much delay. I hope you enjoy this though. :D

Special mention to "KiGaMi", a.k.a "Yui-chan" because she helped me with the translation to French thingy :P

HxH (c) Yoshihiro Togashi

OWC: 3,240 words

Chapter 26:

~Lullabies~

"Where are you going, Killua?"

Truth be told, Killua did not want to turn around to check who had called him. He just wanted to keep running, but he still did. After realizing who he had turned his face to for an unwelcome conversation, he felt his face turn pale, and he started to regret his actions.

Of all people! He cussed angrily in his head. He fully turned to face his older brother who was smiling at him in an eerie kind of way. "What do you want, Illumi?" Killua asked, running low on patience. The last word even came out like a hiss.

"I'm just asking," Illumi said, and he took a step closer toward Killua. One, two. His long ebony hair swayed with his movement. The air surrounding him was very teasingly…bloodthirsty. "You know, you haven't been here in a while…"

Killua tensed, knowing that somewhere along their conversation they would have some sort of hand-to-hand assassin combat. And he had to prepare. He glared at Illumi and answered, although a little hesitatingly, "To the Butler's Quarters. Why?"

Illumi smirked, and it made an involuntary shiver run down Killua's spine, threatening to break his resolve. "Do you mean to your friends? Oh don't worry, Killua. Zephyr is keeping them busy, they won't get bored."

Killua, trying his best to keep a cool visage, narrowed his eyes toward his older brother and said, in a low, predatory-like voice, "I don't want to keep them waiting. Zephyr plays boring games. I might as well save them the misery. I will go." He turned his back again, and was about to make a mad dash when he felt a cold hand twine around his hurting wrist.

His left wrist was a little bit swollen. He had been chained to the wall for days on end, after all, so they were bound to swell. Not that he minded it much—he was getting used to pain, after years of endless, (needless?) torture. But the feeling of his brother's hand constricting around it tightly made the pain feel worse.

He felt so broken at that moment.

For just a single second.

He wrenched his wrist free—of course, ignoring that sting of sudden hurt that came with it—and pulled away from his brother. He glowered at him angrily. "I said I'm going. I'm going." He tried hard to push his brother away before stomping angrily back to the open exit.

"No, Killua, not yet," Illumi said, and suddenly he was in front of Killua once more. Killua put on a very defiant stare at Illumi, but he did not budge. Instead, he smirked, and soon he had closed the gap between them.

"Not yet."

Akane knelt down, reaching slightly down as she took the coins. The hand retreated in the dark of the room, but the crimson eyes still glinted in the darkness a little sinisterly. She pocketed the three coins and asked (the kid?) once more—"Who are you?"

But the kid did not move. Akane madea move to extend an arm, when suddenly a hand extended from the darkness. As a pale, childlike hand grasped Akane's hand tightly, pictures—memories—started to flood Akane's mind.

It was a daytime scene, where a little girl with purple hair and braids wearing a white dress reached out to touch a flower. Although Akane didn't recognize the flower, she realized it was beautiful and purple, and it even had dew on it. And as the girl touched a petal, the butterfly that used to sit there fluttered over to the fingers of the little girl. As the scenery changed to a nighttime one, the little girl faded into the background as she was being shadowed and enveloped in an embrace by a man with long black hair and piercing onyx eyes, who wore his same emotionless glance.

Just as the name 'Illumi' was about to prick Akane's mind, the hand flinched and moved away from her hand like it had just touched a flaming thing. Akane blinked, and more braver/curious than ever, she crawled inside the door a little tensely.

There she saw a kid, probably 9 or 10 years old, wearing a loose and too big green sweater. He had purple hair (that had the same spiky feature as Killua's, if a little tamer) and red eyes. Akane went in even more, and the kid visibly tensed.

She asked for a name, but the kid did not respond. Akane noted the very feminine features, almost resembling Kurapika in a level of femininity. The kid reached a hand out once more, to touch Akane's shoulder. Again, something seemed to take over Akane's brain—the color purple, almost indigo-like, and Akane did not understand. The word—Anil, which was a misspelled 'indigo' in Spanish—flashed in her subconscious and then the illusions faded altogether.

"Anil?" Akane asked, and the kid nodded. Then, she noticed the silence. "Why… don't you talk?"

The child—who Akane finally concluded as male, because of the tiny adam's apple—put his thumb and pointer finger together, like when holding a zipper, and ran it across between his upper and lower lips, like closing it.

Misunderstanding, Akane asked with a baffled voice: "You don't want to talk?"

The child shook his head and tried once more. He pointed at his throat, and then shook his head vigorously.

"You… can't talk?" Akane offered, and he finally nodded. Noticing yet another missing detail, she asked Anil once more. "But that little girl… is she—"

She was stopped, because the little boy had grasped her by her shoulders with a frantic look on his girly face. He sent images to her once again, and there she was deeply moved. The first image was of two babies, still tied by their umbilical cords, with a tiny shimmering golden circle in between their clasped hands. The baby, the smaller one, took that circle and pushed it in its body, where it went up and to the throat. The next picture was of a girl, with long purple wavy hair and red eyes, smiling a big smile. She was probably 6 years old. The next picture was of Zephyr, extending his hands as that same girl came rushing to him for a hug. The final picture haunted Akane the most, however, since Zephyr's appearance started to change and his hair became long and black, his eyes turned black, and his smile turned into a cold stare. The picture shifted as Zephyr's playful chokehold to the girl became a very nasty and dangerous neck-hold by Illumi, the girl's face changing from laughing in enjoyment to terrified as hell.

When Akane pulled away and finally came back to her senses, the boy was already in tears. Akane embraced him in an attempt to give comfort and strength. But the little boy wriggled away from her, and instead faced her, as if begging for attention.

He tried to speak, but no sound came out of his lips. So Akane tried to lip-read. In the first word, his tongue flicked from beneath his front upper teeth to the back of his mouth. In the second word, his tongue circled from behind his upper row of teeth to below, and up again, and made a look like a smile with an open mouth. For the third word, the middle of this tongue touched the roof of his mouth, and then flexed to some sort of lopsided grin as its tip flicked from behind the top teeth to below. The fourth word, his lips came close and opened once, where the sides of his tongue got caught on the sides at his molars. The fifth word was the big smile once more, with his tongue behind his upper teeth as he blew air, making a successful hissing sound. The sixth and last word started with his tongue up at the middle of the roof of his mouth, and then his tongue went up and down, and then back on his upper molars, before it finally coiled in the deep of his mouth.

Akane, however hard it may have seemed in the start, managed to—for some great blessing from the high above—understand, and with it she was even more moved to help them.

The lonely / caged bird / is crying.

She was familiar with that poem-phrase. She knew she had first read that in a book where a little girl had a very beautiful voice. The prince of the palace asked his father that he take her as his wife. But she fervently declined, and soon the king, not wanting to disappoint his son, had to arrest her. But she denied to be brought to the sleeping chambers of the prince, so she was sent to the dungeon. Every day, she'd sing a sorrowful song, and the king fell in love with her in a while. Out of greed he killed his son and wife, and the kingdom perished. But the kept the girl captive for so long after that—since she did not agree to be brought to the chambers once more—until all she did was cry, and she could not sing. The kind, displeased of her, ordered her dead as well. Gone was her voice, all out of greed. A few days later, a messenger angel revived the girl, but as a bird. The bird fluttered happily in the king's uncared-for rose garden, twittering ever so happily. The king learned his lesson at that very moment.

Is this what you're telling me, Anil? Akane thought. She cast a glance at the boy who was still deep in tears, and even though he did not utter a word, his eyes said everything needed to be said.

Save her, sister…

And Akane took him in a comforting embrace, which he snuggled deep into, promising to herself and him that she will.

The other three had been waiting for her in the lobby where they first say. Zephyr was sitting—maybe slouching would be a better term—on his couch once again, eating another apple. While the others did not take notice of that, Leorio seemed to be very confused about Zephyr's actions.

"What's wrong with that kid? Isn't that, like, the fifth apple he's eaten since we arrived?" Leorio asked, a little frantically even.

"That doesn't matter, Leorio," Kurapika said, as he flipped his coin up in the air to catch it again. "I mean, Akane's... not even here yet. And you're busy wondering about an apple?"

Gon ignored them, gripping his coin so hard in his palm that it had already left a mark. His eyes pricked up as he heard more and more noises from the corridor where Leorio was, but he did not make so much of a move yet. He was thinking, but at that time he simply couldn't.

"You know what, since you care so much, why don't you go to the eastern corridor and search for her, hmm?" Leorio asked, daring Kurapika to. "I trust her and I'll stay here. If you two get into a kind of an MCF, I'm not going to help you!"

Kurapika's right eyebrow twitched. "MCF? What's that?"

"A married couple fight, of course! Now go save your wifey now, won't you, Kurapika?" Leorio taunted him.

Gon turned around at that very moment to say something when Kurapika's rock-fist met Leorio's soft head. As Leorio curled in a corner holding his throbbing head, Gon handed his coin to Kurapika.

"Kurapika, can you hold this for a sec? I need to look at something first," he said, and pushed the heavy coin in Kurapika's palm. Kurapika took it and watched Gon run off, to the southern corridor where Leorio had first gone into.

As Kurapika went back to his leaning position by the wall, Zephyr finally dropped his apple. He laughed a little, and it easily earned Kurapika's attention. As Kurapika stared at Zephyr, through-and-through, with criticizing eyes, Zephyr just continued to laugh, almost hysterically at that point.

"What are you laughing about?" Kurapika finally asked, and Zephyr looked at him with a smile still written all over his face.

Zephyr rolled in the sofa to face Kurapika. "Oh, it's just Gon. I mean... you have no plan on following him, do you?"

"No, I don't," Kurapika answered, narrowing his eyes at the older boy. "Why?"

"If I were you, Kurapika, I'd be on my way running toward Gon at this very moment," Zephyr said, taking the apple back in his hand and twirling it around. Kurapika waited as Zephyr popped a piece into his mouth and chewed. "Do you know why I would run to Gon?"

Kurapika shook his head. "I don't."

"I would be running to Gon right now," Zephyr said, grinning, "if I didn't want him to meet Illumi at the wrong time."

And with that, Kurapika had dropped the coins on the glass table and ran through the south corridor, shouting a certain special 12-year-old's name.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

As Gon walked further into the length of the winding corridor, the dripping noise caught by his sharp ears gradually became louder. He listened, and while listening he walked deeper and deeper into the corridor. The corridor started to seemingly 'change,' and the painted walls became tattered wallpapers, wet and ripped off the wall; the wooden floor became old cobblestone that were gray and red. Gon felt like he was traveling time.

But as Gon walked deeper into the darkness, his reason for actually coming became even more distinct. And unlike what Kurapika had thought he was doing, he wasn't paying attention to little golden coins that might have been missed by his older friend.

He listened, and in the midst of the dripping, he heard a song.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

« Il y a des roses
et des nuits de printemps froides
Mais il n'y a rien d'autre que l'obscurité
Dans ses yeux noirs.

Dans cette prison,
Je chanterai à toi
A lui et aux autres,
Jusqu'à ce qu'il me laissent partir.

Je chanterai
Jusqu'à ce que ma gorge se dessèche
Jusqu'à ce que je sois à court de mots
Dans cette tristesse. »

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was certainly the voice of an angel.

That much Gon had concluded right. He wondered who was singing, and why she was singing. And why such a dreadful sounding song? She had a beautiful voice, very feminine and soft and like a sweet baby's lullaby, although it had such a haunting and sorrowful tune.

Like... she was begging for mercy, crying that she not be killed.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

(There are roses
and cold spring nights
But there's nothing but the darkness
And his black eyes

In this prison,
I'll sing to you,
To him and to others, until
They let me go.

I'll sing until
My throat dries up
Until I have ran out of words
In this sadness.)

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

And then he heard something else—someone shouting at him from where he had been, but he did not take notice as he pushed open a wooden maple-wood door at which stood at the end of the corridor.

It was dark in the room he had entered, and he realized its walls were made of stone. It was really old stone, like the kind of stone that people used to use in dungeons in the olden time castles. Gon ran a hand across it, feeling its texture, and he realized it was really cold. He noticed the air had become humid, too. He walked deeper inside, and he noticed there was yet another tunnel, and light was at its farthest end.

Called by the light, he continued to walk, ignoring Kurapika's shouts calling his name from a distance back. He felt his boots splash into accumulated water. In the darkness he heard squeaks of little rats as they ran around by his feet. As he started to feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise in fear, he heard a very familiar voice.

"Gon!"

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Killua!" Gon answered back, relieved that his best friend was safe, after all. "Where are you?"

He started to run, run toward the light where he thought Killua was, since the voice seemed to have come from there. (But the sound was bound to bounce around the room, after all, since it was a closed space where echoes can rebound back toward him.) Gon's boots splish-splashed down the wet floor.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Gon, don't!" Killua shouted, and his voice echoed and bounced in the stone walls. Gon became a little disoriented, and he stopped. "Don't! Stay where you are! Don't come here, Gon! DON'T!"

Listening intently he swore he'd heard Killua's voice struggle in speaking, but he did not pay attention and passed it off as a part of his imagination. (He had an imaginative mind, after all.) He took a tentative step forward before he finally took notice of the individual behind him, who had already reached out a long and tender, almost feminine finger, with a long nail, by his neck. Soft and smooth strands of hair, well-cared for, fell down to Gon's shoulders, but it wasn't his.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"Hello, Gon."