Varying degrees of darkness shifted from behind the shelter of the girl's eyelids. There was a terrible stiffness in her wrists and spine, as well as a searing pain in her abdomen that burned like liquid fire from within her core. Her mouth tasted of stale blood and metal, and her jaw ached even without the strain of moving it.

'Where am I?'

Her very thoughts were groggy and took an uncomfortable amount of effort to form coherently, making her understand even while lacking the skill to naturally analyze her situation that either she had suffered a formidable degree of head trauma or tremendous blood loss.

With as much of her attention span as she could muster at one time given the circumstances, Misaki quietly focused on her surroundings while still attempting to feign slumber in the meantime. Admittedly this was not a simple task, as using En would easily alert an assailant of her sudden consciousness, (although she was unconvinced that in her current state she could perform such an application at all). Even when it appeared that there were no notable traces of aura in the surrounding area, the girl was not particularly confident in her own assessment.

"We're even now," Killua's voice announced coldly.

Her brows twitched slightly at the unexpected sound of his voice. What had happened? Where was she? Why was Killua…?

She supposed she already knew the answer to the final question, even while the events prior were temporarily an unobtainable blur.

"What do you mean?" she whispered hoarsely, her voice startlingly meeker than she'd been expecting.

Her response was silence, and for a moment she wondered if he had moved away from her. It did not seem unreasonable, especially since she had not sensed him there at all before. She opened her eyes to find herself staring directly into his.

Immediately the girl recognized that he was struggling internally, despite the hollow and uncaring expression frozen onto his features. It was somehow reminiscent of a mirror, and she was stunned to somehow see herself reflected there in him; battered, broken, and still searching desperately with what scraps of humanity were left, if any.

You can't save me, you know…

The dream was coming back to her full force, and yet she found herself unable to be bitter over the return of such comparatively unnecessary information next to the loss of the events which had actually occurred. She could almost see the long, black strands of hair smothering the boy's pale body.

It'll find me again; it always finds me.

Why was she crying now? The tears slipped silently back into her disheveled hair, her body aching excruciatingly with each convulsion of her chest. She exhaled a tight, strained breath, thrusting forth her weight to force her form into a sitting position. Immediately she regretted the decision, the pain almost enough to steal her consciousness again. She let out a sound of weakness, unable to mentally reprimand herself for it before another wave of agony hit her immensely stinging stomach.

"Idiot," he mumbled as a clammy sensation overwhelmed her body. "You could never beat him. You almost died."

As she elongated her jaw in reaction to the aching torment, a sharp jolt rocketed through the rounded edge where the bones met the throat, causing an involuntary whimper to escape her. As her body began to slouch forward, she realized that it was hindered by some sort of splint-like contraption on her back, fastened in place by a make-shift body wrap. It was a few more moments before she realized that the off-white cloth had once been a shirt, and even longer before she reached a point where she could relate the fact that Killua was currently exposed from the waist up.

"You underestimate… your own potential," she panted out between shaky breaths as she found a position to keep the pain at bay, "so you're in no position to evaluate mine."

For a second he looked almost sympathetic, but just as quickly the expression gave way to a more hardened one.

"Idiot," he repeated. "The only thing that saved you from losing was me."

"Then you're right… at last, we are even… Zoldyck, Killua."

He stiffened, leaning in as his mouth parted as if to impulsively shout some undecided response. However, he seemed to catch himself and slowly the anger and excessive defensiveness died away, and only his balled fists at his side remained as evidence of his near outburst.

Slowly so as not to disturb her body positioning significantly, Misaki reached out her right hand and rested her fingertips on the back of his knuckles. She felt his muscles twitch beneath her touch, and as her gaze shifted downwards toward the connection, she caught sight of the pool of dried blood that had seeped down the back of her wrist. Curious, she tilted her palm upward marginally until she could see the exposed veins on the underside; the flesh pierced and now purpling with signs of infection.

"Tanoh, Misaki…" His voice was hollow, but less outwardly cold than it had been previously. His eyes lowered as he whispered, "I've paid back my debt to you… but don't think this means that I forgive you."

She closed her amber eyes, resisting the urge to angle her chin toward her chest.

"I was never asking for your forgiveness. After everything that has happened, it would be an insult and…" She swallowed awkwardly before continuing. "…My intention is not, nor was it ever, to insult you."

"Then why…!" He stopped abruptly, regaining his composure.

"Killua… I do what I am hired to do. I… was never supposed to really know you."

"Hired?" His voice was so soft she was scarce certain she'd heard him speak at all. He seemed to be considering it diligently in the realm of his own mind.

"I broke the rules," she explained monotonously. "Therefore, there are consequences I have to face."

He shook his head.

"Idiot."

"It was never you I was hired for. Take some sort of solace in that, if you will. I'm entirely willing to accept your consequences as well, don't you see?"

His hand clenched tighter in remembrance of what he had seen and done. He did not wish to discuss consequences, as he knew his own punishment for his brash actions in the face of his brother would be coming swiftly and in the near future. He suppressed a shudder, though the tickling sensation left in its wake caused the hairs on his arms to stand erect.

"After everything that-…" he began, trailing off and changing his mind halfway through. "You're a piece of work, old lady."

She smiled just enough for him to detect it.

"I suppose your entire family views the world through night vision goggles… but those don't work as well in the day, do they, Killua?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" he snapped, finally retracting his hand from beneath hers and breaking the connection.

"Everything and nothing."

"No, explain it."

"It means… whatever you would like it to mean."

"You're a liar. That's not what it means."

"You're right, it's not."

The room fell eerily silent. Feeling slightly irritated and at a loss for his initial resolve now, Killua turned toward the exit.

Just as he reached the door, Misaki gently said, "Thank you for sparing my life."

"Saving," he corrected her.

"Thank you for sparing my life, Killua."

He placed his hand on the door handle, gripping it excessively tight.

"Don't ever mention it again," he replied in a voice of mild but unmistakable warning before he exited without even a single glance back.

Misaki's lips upturned into a wide, insuppressible grin. Somehow, fate had brought Killua to her, and she was oddly comforted by the thought that he would be back again soon; once he had checked in with Gon, she supposed. Of course he would not risk bringing his dear friend here, as she had openly threatened his life. In fact, it was a wonder that he was willing to spare her considering such. Perhaps there was even more to him than she had earlier assessed; not that her previous judgments had been poor. He was far more human than even she was, she comprehended now. It was somehow awe-inspiring, at the very least.

'He will come back.'

Until then she simply needed to focus her energy on her recovery; both of her physical body and her memories of what had occurred during her fight with Illumi.

Her emotional rehabilitation could wait. After all, her emotional scars were a product of the same tangible source as Killua's, and they both had a fair deal of work set out for them.

'The only thing I cannot do is relapse,' she inwardly insisted, vowing to adhere to this lone rule with everything left within her.