No captain of the Hunters association has yet died of natural causes and Boar had not broken tradition. He had had a lifetime of schemes and gambits spiteful enough to accrue the lethal acrimony that had finally handed him the short end of the wand. May the bastard's soul rest in peace.

Nonetheless, a power vacuum had to be filled.

Protocol dictated that the new captain be voted through a series of elections where every Hunter was both a candidate and a voter, with half were to be voted out each time. With a little more than 400 members, the elections had been going on pretty smoothly for the last two weeks. The finalists had all been pretty fair shots. The final four had comprised Doc himself, a flighty broad called Dollface, their resident strategist named Canine, and Boar's right hand man, Goldeye. They all envisioned progress for the company, so at the time the overall tenet had been that no matter who won the company would be in good hands.

However, the election in its final round was locked in a tense stalemate between Dollface and Goldeye that didn't seem to be tilting in anyone's favor. In the last 3 rounds both candidates had been tied, a perfect 50/50.

Somehow, everyone knew it was Goldeye. No one could figure out how he was doing it. Goldeye was a scheming bastard whose charms and glamour were inexhaustible. All magic of course. He had no natural charisma to speak of.

All this was explained to Killua by the most garrulous man he had ever met. Or maybe it was the ale talking. Doc had been quaffing pint after pint all evening and didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. Killua and Chains had tried interjecting at various times but the man was relentless in his exposition. They gave up and settled into the role of an audience. Both were men of few words anyway.

"Apologies for holding you back this late," Chains said when Doc had finally burnt himself out and dozed off.

"No problem at all." Killua could see Star enjoying herself on the other side of the tent. At the moment she was belting her heart out in folk song and could be heard even from where he sat. A crowd had gathered around and was cheering her on.

"She's a charmer," Chains said.

Killua shrugged. It was true, Star had always had a magnetic personality. The last few years had been good to her and it had been allowed to flourish.

"Are you good to go home on your own?"

"Yeah, I wasn't even trying to catch up to this guy," Killua gestured to where Doc was comically slumped forehead down on the table, hands dangling.

"Should we wake him up? He's going to wake up with a hell of a hangover if he doesn't sober up."

"Nah, he deserves it for subjecting us to that awful lecture."

"Heh, he does that often?"

"A bit too much, and you won't get used to it. Take my word. The man can talk at a hundred miles per second when he's riled up. Join us only if you think you can take it."

"I'm starting to have second thoughts now," Killua joked lightly.

A girl suddenly appeared at his shoulder.

"Dollface," Chains greeted.

Doc had described her to Killua as a hulk of a woman that all sane men feared. What Killua saw instead was a young girl who looked to be in her late teens, dressed in pink and purple and face all sweet. Her hair, tied up in pigtails, was a deep honey blonde that curled down her back.

Doc jerked up at the name and saluted the empty air in front of him.

"Oh don't trouble yourselves on account of me," she said in a sweet melodious voice. "I just wanted to see the brother of the star of the night."

"Claws, ma'am."

"Oh don't call me that. Makes me sound older than I already am." She laughed.

"Impossible," murmured Doc.

She turned to glare at him. The stool underneath him vanished.

"Wa'a!" Doc landed harshly on the rough ground, and did not get up. Killua leaned over and saw he had fallen back into a drunken stupor, limbs splayed across the ground.

He had not even seen her move her lips or fingers to indicate she was casting a spell. Amazing.

She seated herself beside them.

"So, Claws," she said conversationally, "Why the name?"

Killua showed them.

Chains' eyes widened. Doll simply looked intrigued.

"That's not magic, is it?"

"No, just training. It really helps keep the load light while traveling. No need to carry weapons," he said with a lightness he didn't feel.

"And who taught you?"

He shrugged. "Family."

"Tough love, huh."

"Yeah."

"Well, that seals it. Join us as soon as the elections are over."

"Are you really allowed to make that call?"

She pondered, finger tapping her temple. "Goldeye isn't in to be captain. He's toying with the association, like some sort of sick elaborate grand mind fuck. As soon as I pinpoint how he's doing it, I have it."

Killua nodded. "Well, I haven't got a hunters badge…" he offered for the second time that night.

"So we're not responsible for anything you choose to do personally."

Chains, who had been silent in the conversation until that point, look perturbed. "But, ma'am," he began to object.

"Don't call me that," she said harshly. "We all know perfectly well that Goldeye's going to keep this up for as long as he can. Boar was the only one who could temper him but that's out of the equation now. Or have you got any other ideas?"

He didn't. She turned back to Killua. "Come back here as soon you're done. No need for anything extreme. Just… decommission him for a while."

Killua belatedly realized that she had put up wards around them, effectively silencing them to the outside world. He idly wondered what he was signing himself up for.

In the end, Killua had to carry Star all the way home. While he was occupied, she had gotten herself cargoed. He took the longer way around to avoid the parts of the city still bustling even this late of night. He walked through suburban areas, the only light coming from the street lamps. Star was draped across his arms, one under her knees, the other supporting her back. Her arms hung themselves around his neck, cheek pressed against his chest.

"Keeeeeeeellllll –"

"Quiet, Star."

"Something wants to speak with you," she slurred.

"Let her."

Star's skin flickered. Killua found a pair of hollowed eyes staring up into his.

"Bro-ther. Thank. You. Love. You."

Killua kissed her forehead. Star's ivory skin gleamed back into place.

"What was that for?"

"For joining the Hunters of course!" she chirped.

"Why?" He was genuinely confused. Why had she told Doc he wanted to join?

"Becaaause, silly boy, we're worried." Suddenly, the mirth washed off her face, replacing with an expression more serious and distressed.

"You don't come home for months you rarely contact us you always come home tired you don't have friends and all you do is killllll,"

The last word degenerated into a fit of heaving sobs. Star curled against his chest and clutched at his shirt. She eventually fell asleep like that.

Killua felt a pang run through his heart. He had thought distancing himself would accustom Star to his absences. He hadn't meant to hurt her. That was exactly what he was trying not to do.

The moon broke through the thick layer of clouds.

Killua typically didn't advocate pathetic fallacy. That was a flaw belonging to poets, who just stuck their emotions into anything they could find. He was a practical person and didn't have time to foolish ponderings. But from where he stood he saw the entirety of the full moon, and he could swear it was looking down at him directly. Maybe he was drunk. The moonlight silver ghosted around him and it just felt so damn personal that he thought, maybe. Maybe he should take it as a sign, a sign to start again.

He was tired of drifting anyways.