The air grew denser, hanging within it a tense chill that left Killua's mind both frozen and scrambling. The strain on his nerves demonstrated his understanding that he was in danger, though his thoughts could not serve to untangle the web that held the answer of why. He turned the lines of the gaseous parasite over and over in his head.
'Someone from my family... went to the Dark Continent?'
A sinister smile from the living corpse locked the boy's limbs in place with ease, and as such he was hard pressed to so much as tremble.
"You're so much louder and cruder than he was," it said with amusement, "but look at you now. Overcome by your petty human fear, you can't even answer me any longer, can you? He was a great tactician, the one they called Maha... but even with the incredible power he was able to harness, he could not forever escape the curse from injecting itself into his family."
The Zoldyck's eyes widened and a short, breathy sound shot between his lips at the name.
'Great, great grandfather-...?'
"I must remember to thank him. Without him, I'd never be able to make the transfer now."
A low, breathless laugh squeezed through the creature, leaving a trace of thick, nearly black clots of blood around the grey and blue lips. It made no effort to wipe them away as they dropped off the flesh and onto the dim floor.
"Why now?" Gon commanded in a voice too eerily calm for the escalating situation.
"It's the perfect time. I no longer need Frank's foolish Conspiracy Hunters. There is no way to stop me now, even if the world does find out. It is too late. They will die still." Grinning, it drew a pace toward Killua with a long, bony finger extended. "Make sure to leave me plenty of room in there, Zoldyck; I like to have my own space."
In response, Killua flinched slightly, the only action his muscles would momentarily allow. The scent of death wafted through him, and finally his mind too was overcome by the singularity of his fear and could produce no new thoughts. In the same instance, Misaki shifted position to create a sort of human shield of herself, blocking the direct path between Number One and the terrified boy. Likewise, Gon wasted no time shifting into the animated corpse's path, fists clenched and at the ready.
"There's no way we'll let you take Killua," the tanned boy insisted, brows orbited inward.
"Oh? You're not afraid of me, little boy?"
The island boy shook his head vigorously. "Of course I'm afraid of you," he replied with deceptive composure.
"Then why-...?"
"You really don't know? You talk about humans like we're so predictable and weak. You can't understand that even if we're scared, we can fight for what we believe in with everything we have!"
The creature tilted its head.
"How curious. I suppose you would call that being 'noble' or 'brave' as your species, yes? In the end, it's really just foolishness. You cannot defeat me. You must understand that if you try, you will die. Just to feel like you have died for a cause, you will sacrifice yourself for your petty beliefs? That is unbelievably ill placed 'dignity', you realize. In the end, you will die like the selfish animal you are."
"I won't let you take Killua," he repeated firmly.
"Dear boy, I see then that you do not really understand or appreciate the true extent of my power..."
Without further warning, the rotting body suddenly appeared before the green clad boy. It jutted out an open, grey palm and, not bringing a single finger within five inches of him, levitated Gon's body slightly off the ground and launched him with incredible vigor into the opposite wall. The speed with which the attack occurred was too great for the boy to properly defend himself. He was able to, just barely, activate a thin shower of Ten over his limbs in time and thus concave the wall a few feet from the force of the impact. Nonetheless, this was not enough to leave him unscathed, and he struggled to regain proper control of his badly aching limbs.
Number One drew closer and closer still to his intended prey.
"Even after seeing how effortlessly I was able to toss aside your comrade, you still will not flee?" it asked Misaki, who was continuing to block his path.
The girl said nothing. Instead, she simply twirled her umbrella rapidly, as though she held a propeller in her fingers, and then grasped the handle and let out a single, defensive swing before her, holding it diagonally before her frame as though it were a sword.
"Foolish human. Are we so different, you and I? Just because I do not kill humans for money or glory, you assume that we are not alike. Answer me this; which of us is truly the scavenger of mankind?"
Misaki held her ground quietly, keeping her eyes patiently focused on the monster.
"Is it I, who fights to survive, or you, who exploits the fragility of your own species to escalate your wealth and strength?"
If only slightly, the girl tightened the grip upon her weapon.
"I'm kindly giving you the opportunity to withdraw your weapon, girl. If you desire for this Zoldyck to live, you must understand that only my interference now can make this possible. The world is ending. Without me, he will parish like all the rest. You are willing to die knowing that he will go down with you? Do not be ridiculous. If you want to save this boy's life, step aside."
A few long, tedious seconds dragged by. While Misaki's grasp on the umbrella handle initially contracted even further, ultimately she lowered her head and her arm likewise. Her shoulders slumped helplessly. Killua's heart nearly stopped at the sight of the assassin tossing aside the weapon into the darkness at her right.
"Good girl," the parasite cooed. "You made the correct choi-..."
The Conspiracy Hunter leader's body suddenly turned stiff and gave way to convulsions. Killua's eyes journeyed from Misaki's instantly restored posture back to the creature. Its chest had been punctured; a direct hit through the heart with the familiar black, pointed tip of the parasol protruding forth and right through the draped cloth. Discoloured fluid poured freely from the wound, leaking out viscous, mucous-like clumps in the foul-smelling liquid.
"You talk too much," Misaki announced neutrally between the sputtering sounds gurgling from Number One's throat and lips.
A sudden jolt in the parasite's host body sprayed a moderate shower of tarnished blood from the mouth, causing a loud, crashing wave-like sound upon impact with the floor. Killua had to hold his breath to avoid vomiting from the awful stench of stale, old death.
Then, as though the events had never transpired, the monster laughed. It was another of those loud, booming fits that pained the ears and wore thin on the already shaken nerves. The boy stared from behind his wide, blue eyes and noticed the tensing of Misaki's arms as they withdrew nearer to her body.
"It was a formidable trick," Number One admitted, its voice tinged with poisoned mirth, "but you forget that Frank was the one who needed this heart to survive."
Lifting a lengthy sleeve to its core, the creature wrapped its hand around the projecting tip of the umbrella and wrenched it out, even twisting now and then to loosen the hole. It made no indication of feeling even the slightest bit of pain as it dropped the parasol to the floor and the wound began to propel a fine mist of moist discharge into the air, soaking almost the entirety of the front of the torn robe it donned.
"Let us not forget," it warned, lifting the open palm of its remaining hand into the air and slowly curling in the fingers, "which of us holds the true disadvantage."
At first, it appeared nothing had happened. There was a tense hush over the room, but not much more. Then, Killua was able to detect the difference. Misaki's limbs were especially rigid and there was a strange, dire sense emitting from her as her Ten increased. She dropped to her knees, trying unsuccessfully to fight off the natural sense of panic as a choking noise caught in her throat and her frame began to writhe helplessly, one palm collecting her falling weight and the other clutching involuntarily at her chest.
'She's dying,' Killua realized in shock. 'Her heart is stopping...'
"I wonder what you see," Number One pondered allowed as the girl's arm collapsed and she squirmed defiantly against her body, "as your final breaths are upon you. Frank saw his deceased wife, and all the lovely memories of their time together. It was quite a sight and I'd even call it a 'rush' for me. I'd love to know who or what you see right now, girl... but I am impressed that your tactic managed to fool me. I hadn't even suspected that your In would outsmart me. I will allow you privacy and solitude during your final moments because of this. As for you..." It turned to Killua once again, a crooked smile gleaming in the blackness.
A knot formed at the former assassin's larynx as the aura surrounding the plum haired girl thinned and then dissipated, leaving in its wake a light twitching as her cheek pressed to the floor.
"Misaki-san! Killua!" Gon croaked as he fought to make it the rest of the way to his feet.
"...You are mine, Zoldyck."
The scent of the summer breeze through the trees was an instant comfort. The pale sunlight gleamed through the small, open spaces of the foliage above like twinkling stars in the daylight hours. A thin curve of smoke signalled the arrival of mealtime from the cottage nearby.
'I'm home.'
The sound of the shorter, increasing breaths pelted through the air as a hand rested upon the knob of the door.
"Misaki-chan! Dinner!" called the melodic female voice from within.
Ready to oblige, Misaki turned the knob and stepped inside, looking up at the woman who stood in the nearby kitchen. Her face was difficult to make out, but she smelled of pine and freshly baked bread, and a soothing familiarity overcame the plum haired girl.
"Sit down on your chair, Misaki-chan," the woman offered.
"Yes, mother."
The sound of heavy boots against wood drew her attentions away from the table. The indistinguishable face of a dark haired man with stained, dirty, working hands approached from the bedroom door. A scent of smoke and shaved wood wafted after him.
"Thanks for joining us tonight, Misaki-chan," he joked. "I thought you'd make us eat alone again."
Shaking her head vigorously, she answered, "I'm sorry, father. Sometimes I just forget what time it is."
"It's a terrible habit, being late," her mother chimed in, shaking her head and spooning mashed carrots from her large, mixing bowl onto the amber eyed girl's plate from over her shoulder.
"Nah, it don't matter. She's still young," her father argued, settling into his seat and scooting up to the table.
"She's ten," came the return, hazel eyes challenging the patient, male, amber ones. "She needs to learn responsibility."
"Misaki-chan is responsible," he argued, placing a roll on his plate. "She pulls her weight around here when it comes to the chores."
Brushing the remnants of flour off her long, brown dinner dress, the plum haired woman placed down the last of the serving dishes and took her seat between her daughter and husband, glaring her disapproval at the latter.
"Yes, but Misaki-chan is old enough to at least show up to dinner on time consistently."
Shrugging as he chewed on a spoonful of tough meat, the man swallowed and cleared his throat.
"You're only young once," he protested. "I'm sure Misaki-chan will grow up... too fast, in fact... soon enough, and she'll be too busy fooling around with boys to even do her chores, God forbid. Then you'll be complaining about that."
"Haruto!" the woman snapped. "What a thing to say, and in front of her, no less!"
"Hey, I'll be complaining about that, too, you know," he teased. "Nah, Misaki-chan is a good girl. What do you say, sweetie, you want to get married?"
"No, thank you," Misaki replied. "I'd rather just play."
"See? She's just like her old man. When I was young, I didn't care about getting married. I just liked to play around, too," he jested with a wink, causing his daughter to smile up at him as he ruffled her messy, plum hair.
"Haruto!" she shrieked once again, her brows furrowing. "That's enough! Talking like that, you just better pray Misaki-chan is able to grow into a serious, dignified young lady rather than into a rogue hooligan like you."
"Aww, don't be angry. You know I was just kidding."
"I don't find it funny at all."
"Come on, hunnie, you know Misaki-chan is a good kid. So she gets caught up playing once in a while. It's not the end of the world. She works hard, too. It's not all fun and games for her. She's a kid. She needs a break once in a while."
Wiping at her eyes with the napkin, the woman swallowed hard to avoid spilling tears.
"Mother?" Misaki asked hesitantly.
"Aww, hunnie... I'm sorry," Haruto offered.
"It's not that," she whispered shakily, dabbing at the lash-line. "It's just... we really need to find a way to make more money and I already feel guilty that I have to infringe on Misaki-chan's childhood to make ends meet as it is..."
"This is a bad time for this conversation," he warned, nodding towards Misaki. Turning to his daughter, he said, "Why don't you excuse yourself from the table and go play?"
"I haven't finished my supper."
"I'll call you back for dessert, how about that?"
"Okay."
"Good. Now go play with your little friend there, please."
"My friend...?"
"Oi," Killua's voice called from the door, "let's go, already."
Surprised, Misaki glanced from her family to her friend and then back again. The bodies of her mother and father were consumed by a black aura and began to run like water, coloured puddles dripping heavily onto the floor beneath. With uncertainty, she slid from her chair and slowly approached the silver haired boy, exiting at his side. He studied her curiously in the evening light, and she took in the sight of the golden hues glistening off his pale skin.
"This was the last day I saw them," she admitted with a sigh, realizing only now that she had grown much taller now that she was with him and not her parents. "You're not supposed to be here... but I'm glad you are."
He said nothing, but a look of overwhelming sympathy flooded his features.
"This must be what I wanted to see."
"Misaki..."
"Killua," she whispered tearily as the world around her began to melt like wax. "I know you're not really Killua, but this is our time. Kiss me. I think this is our last chance, consequence free."
Orchestrated by the power of her fading hallucination, Killua took the girl in his arms, cradling her, as the sound of her heartbeat slowed dramatically. She felt the phantom of warmth as his lips touched to hers just in time for his face to wash away in the last sweeping wave of her consciousness.
"Misaki-san! Killua!" Gon called as he forced one foot in front of the other.
The hanging grin before Killua disappeared into the darkness of the hood as the boy's heart lurched painfully at the sight of his no longer breathing friend on the floor. Shock, fear, anger, and sadness all fought mercilessly for superiority over him. The idea that he'd been too paralysed with fear to do more than simply watch her die pumped him with guilt and rage. Twin strips of black, smoke-like mist wavered from within the monster's hood toward the defeated boy.
'This...can't be the end,' Killua struggled to rationalize as the clouds drew closer to his face. He felt the tears roll off his chin as his eyes brushed over Misaki once again.
"I won't... let you... I can... save her.. if I act now!" he managed to get out between clenched teeth.
A painful shriek erupted from the creature just then. It reeled back, the dark streaks disappearing back into the hood as it doubled over, sleeves thrashing. At first, Killua was far too stunned to comprehend what had saved him, but one glance at the handful of pins protruding from the back of the robe was enough to explain everything.
'Aniki...'
A/N: Thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting. Also, don't fret; this is not the end and things will look up, I swear.