The greater part of morning had managed to seep past before Killua managed to truly absorb the sights and sounds which surrounded him. It was as though he had been encased within a bubble-like barrier, having no direct access to his senses and those things that sought to stimulate them. He woke from this trance-like dream to find that he and Gon were already nearly back at Haku's residence. The city was alive with rustling, voices, and shoes pattering against concrete.

Try as he may, Killua could not fully connect to his mind, either. The night prior was quickly turning into a dream-like blur as his rogue emotions fought with and against his subconscious to suppress the pain and make reality more bearable. Every so often he felt phantom, deliberately positioned hands on his shoulders, as though the memory of Misaki alone was enough to allow her ghostly figment to kneel before him the way she had done previously.

He nearly softened at this, despite his severe resistance to such a notion, and it was then that his mind loudly whispered his eldest brother's name, over and over, in the girl's heated voice. Once his mood had relapsed and hardened toward the lure of Illumi's puppet, as he knew that it ought to, the boy channeled his purposeful rejection into determination.

'We'll show them all, Gon. Every last one of them…'

As they approached the empty door frame, the boy narrowed his blue eyes and immediately ceased his patterned footfalls. Haku had, he felt, been uninvolved with the plot against him. Perhaps even if he had participated in some miniscule way or at least had been aware of the scheme, it was quite obvious that the man's primary goals honestly were reserved for the preservation of life. Now, at least…

"Haku-san!"

Was it too late to feel remorse for the manner in which he had treated the bespectacled man's honest attempt to atone for his previous act of selfishness? Did this now mean that he was the one who, in spite of everything, was responsible for correcting his own poor judgment at the expense of Haku's feelings?

"Ah, Gon! Come in!"

The tanned boy smiled toward his friend before entering. Killua hung back for a long moment or two with his fingers coiled around the door frame and his eyes low to the ground. He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, wrinkling his nose and becoming suddenly alert as he caught the unmistakable scent of death.

'We're here to challenge fate. I have to prove that all with you…'

With this reminder lingering within his head, the paler boy stepped inside. It appeared that Gon and Haku had already met ground, and were amidst conversing. About what, the former assassin had not at all consumed himself with either before he had physically entered the house or even as he stood before them.

Haku's eyes were calm and unmarred by bother or concern. His lips donned a small smile as he politely nodded to Gon's words. It was almost as though he had not been affected by Killua's outburst prior, despite the unwavering hurt he had openly displayed upon receiving it.

'He's so focused on his mission that he doesn't have time to be slowed down by criticism,' Killua noted, although somehow his instincts seemed to disagree with his forced admiration. He swallowed them down and opted to ignore them, partially by the unexplained guilt which still opposed and enveloped his sense of worth.

Gon and Haku chatted almost carelessly through the day considering the dire time limit imposed upon them, and still Killua was too preoccupied within himself to really hear them. The faint but distinct stench of a fresh corpse continued to reach him, and more disturbingly, appeared to be rooted from this same room.

Finally, as late afternoon arrived, the man indirectly addressed Killua.

"Gon, why don't you wash up for lunch, and I'll entertain Killua."

The boy easily agreed and rushed to the washroom, closing the door behind him.

Haku clasped his fingers together, adjusting himself opposite of Killua, and smiled.

"I knew you would be back," he said.

Killua avoided the man's hard gaze, his shoulders slumping inward.

"I-… Gon insisted we help you…"

"That's unsurprising. Gon is a willful boy."

The silver haired boy said nothing in response and simply pieced together and reworded several apologetic lines in his head, hoping to find one that sounded reasonable. Still, he failed to vocalize any of them.

"It's you I've been waiting for, anyway."

"Me…?"

Haku stood, walking slowly and deliberately toward Killua as he spoke. His voice was uncharacteristically confident and filled to the brim with authority.

"You have a lot of potential… I've always known that. Gon has a certain… quality about him that I suppose is endearing to some… but you're the one with true ability. I'm sure you know that, too. You're wasting it here."

Killua shifted uncomfortably. Something was wrong, though he was hard pressed to pinpoint whether or not it was simply within his own mind. Yet…Haku had always respected Gon, particularly during his search for redemption… hadn't he?

'Gon-kun…I've made such a mess, and at the expense of your lives…'

The reek of rotting flesh grew stronger. Haku cupped Killua's shoulder in his hand.

Gon-kun…

"You know what you need to do, don't you?"

Killua studied the wide, staring eyes before instinctively pulling his shirt over his nose to avoid gagging at the smell of decomposing flesh.

Haku had never touched him before…

Was Haku the type to touch anyone…?

The man leaned in uncomfortably close.

"Gon…" Killua called out uncertainly.

"You can't depend on Gon…"

Gon-kun…

"Go back home, Kil'. Do what it is in your nature to do."

The sensation of unapologetic vulnerability hit him hard as Killua acted entirely on his intuition. He roughly kicked Haku's chest, sending the man flying backward over the small coffee table and tumbling uselessly onto the floor. A painful crack erupted as his skull hit the wooden floor. Discolored blood seeped from the open wound.

Haku stood up, unfazed and stinking horribly. The blood continued to flow.

"Gon!"

"You're a killer. You can't escape your fate."

The boy withdrew a step. Haku smiled and advanced one.

"You're not…" Killua started, his wide eyes racing frantically over the man.

In lieu of completing the thought aloud, he turned and ran from the house. His legs seemed to make this decision for him, as his mind was at once frantically overloaded and unnervingly still.

"See how you run, leaving your 'friend' behind?" Haku's voice called from the doorway.

With tears free-flowing now from his eyes, the silver haired boy forced his fleeing body to collapse on the grass between the trees, thankfully away from prying eyes.

"You're incapable of friendship," Illumi's voice said to him.

It took a moment for Killua to realize that he had not imagined hearing his brother speak in this instant, and by the time he skeptically glanced up it was too late and Illumi had already managed to position himself less than three meters away.

A sharp thud interrupted the boy's overwhelming vulnerability and fear, and his eyes landed upon an object that had managed to wedge itself between the siblings and had nearly punctured Illumi's foot.

The younger boy stared, stunned and mildly disoriented, as the umbrella dislodged its tip from the dirt and sailed purposefully back into the hand of its owner, poised and ready, from atop an overlooking tree branch.