The scissors blade sliced through the paper with a quiet snip. Another set of little pieces fell on the desk, each perfectly even. The small, agile hands gathered them and carefully hid in the slits of the long sleeves.
Kalluto looked in the mirror, ensuring his hairstyle kept the intact shape and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles on his obi decorated with a geometrical pattern, matching the one on the bottom of his furisode. All preparations were done, and he was ready to go on a mission; technically not his own, as he only assisted his older brother, yet he wanted to polish everything all the same. In a long time he didn't leave his home and he couldn't hide from himself the anticipation of seeing the outside world again.
Obviously, he loved his home and his family. There was no doubt about it, and no reason for him to want to leave. But lately, sometimes, just sometimes, he found it difficult to breathe.
Everything changed when Killua ran away. His abrupt and impudent breaking the rules left everyone distressed. Outwardly, the Zoldycks still worked flawlessly like the harmonized organism, yet the home atmosphere drowned in tension. The wound seemed to heal for the moment, but then these people came and aggravated it once again. They called themselves 'Killua's friends', invaded their property and took him away, ruining the family peace. The butlers crept in foreboding, Illumi began to disappear even without missions, mother cried more often. And the Thoughts — the ones Kalluto so desperately tried to quell or at least seal somewhere deep inside him; the ones that made him glad all Illumi's attention was always dedicated to the heir, so these awful taints on his mind could slip unnoticed — now they got excruciatingly harder to bear. In this situation, he should especially increase his efforts to be a good child to ease mother's pain at least a little, but everything he did seemed to make the matter worse.
If only Killua was here.
He couldn't tell what he sensed first — the stately aura, the flowery scent of perfumes or a click of the heel. He quickly neatened already perfectly adjusted clothes and bowed to greet his mother, coming into his room.
Maybe at heart he actually wanted to leave home, even briefly, but he definitely didn't want to leave her. Recent disarray visibly worsened her state and agitated her already fragile emotions. He feared she could have a breakdown at any time, and he desperately didn't want it to happen. Even though going on missions was his official responsibility, the one much more important for him was to ensure mother's peace of mind. He always tried to be near her, as her companion, support, confidant. Making sure no one, and especially himself, would do anything what could upset her, and if she was screaming or crying even then, do everything to distract her, talk about art, about nature, about assassinations.
He was also painfully aware he was being irrational. The outbursts, no matter how terrifying, always passed without the repercussions, and she regained serenity as if they were just Kalluto's delusion. Moreover, she was surrounded by skilled butlers who knew how to comfort her. There was nothing in which he would be irreplaceable.
"Oh, I see you are ready. Very well." The praise felt warm in his chest. "You really remind me of Illumi, dear, you've matured so fast! When you come back, I will have to implement more trainings he underwent into your routine, and soon enough, you will be just like him!" While she chattered, this warmth was slowly succumbing to the cold stinging.
"Yes, mother," he said habitually, not sure if she even needed the affirmation.
"However, I have to say, it was not necessary to take you as his assistant. This is not what is best for your current situation. If only he consulted me, I would have opted for something more quiet and clean for you." The red iris on her visor shrunk minimally, her voice momentarily shrill. "And quick." He understood the reprimand.
"Yes, mother."
"I should be the one to choose your missions, I know what you need." His heart tightened when her tone hit the mournful string. "It is regrettable that your father pretends not to understand this. But we will work hard nonetheless and correct these little defects, right? Don't worry, dear, mama will take care of everything."
Yes, mother, he wanted to say, but something heavy choked his throat.
"I don't want—" the Thoughts blurted weakly, taking control over him. His eyes widened, when sudden silence made him realize what he had done. He was insubordinate and he just saddened her again. Maybe he should leave home after all.
Silk taffeta rustled when she came closer and fondly caressed his cheek, the pressure of her fingers painful against his skin.
"Kalluto, is everything okay?" Her voice needled him with guilt.
"Yes, mother," he said with difficulty, through the mouth stitched by her presence. "I'm sorry."
He shouldn't forget.
He might still not be the completely finished product, but the course was set. His path was decided in advance, the role that was assigned to him from birth and the sole reason he was created — to serve the head of the family, first his father, then Killua, then Killua's child if he would live long enough to see them. The desire to change was not only unnecessary, but could be harmful.
Unconsciously, his fists clenched.
"I have no doubt that you will do well, dear, just remember to look after each other." She returned to her previous tone as if nothing had happened, and began adjusting the collar of his kimono and evening his musubi. "You will be a good helper for your big brother whenever he needs you, won't you?"
"Yes, mother." He couldn't look her in the face.
With the last stroke on the cheek, she left him, standing in the middle of his room. And he stood, maybe for hours or seconds, his head uncomfortably heavy, yet deprived of any thought. His mind disobeyed again. He just had to concentrate on steady breathing, inhale through nose, hold, exhale through mouth, hold, and on executing the mission. Still with splinters of hollowness in his head, he glanced at the mirror and, straightening up, went out into the corridor.
He headed to Illumi's room, as his brother was probably finishing his preparations too, and he would call him soon anyway. He was right by the door when he noticed the small figure at the end of the hallway; the elderly man, withered, yet beaming with serene power. The creased mouth widened, making his face even more wrinkled. Kalluto smiled back. That was usually the maximum of his interactions with his great-great-grandfather, but that brief exchange was somehow uplifting.
The silence of the room was once again broken by the distant police siren.
His thumb smoothed a fold on a paper, then he aligned a new crease to the edge and pressed it into place. After turning the work over, the process was repeated on the opposite side, each move precise and even. His attention was concentrated on origami, while he sat on the bed of the five-star hotel in Yorknew City. The silky sheets were soft and excessively expensive, but nothing he hadn't seen before.
The mission went swiftly. Illumi took care of the main targets, Kalluto and their great-great-grandfather had to eliminate the guards, and it was a surprisingly easy task. Some of them didn't even know Nen, freezing in confusion when their bullets were bouncing off his paper fan. For many that would be a definition of a perfect job, just a little effort and they could receive the payment.
He pulled one paper's layer up along the creases and pushed the edges inwards. The mission went swiftly, but Kalluto couldn't stop being disappointed. After a long travel, it felt like an insufficient conclusion.
The crane landed next to the kabuto and the lotus flower and the masu box, and he reached for another sheet of paper. Without distraction, his fingers were restless. He looked at his great-great-grandfather, who was dozing off on a deep armchair, enormous in contrast to his small figure. They exchanged smiles, but it couldn't quite quell the uneasiness rising in his chest.
If only he could extend this trip even just a bit, to breathe for a little longer before returning to the home that felt so cold lately...
Sensing his brother's aura broke him out of his thoughts. It was only after a while that his steps could be heard outside and his slender silhouette entered the room, soundless and ethereal like a spectre.
"Kalluto," Illumi called him from the threshold. His voice was as flat as always, his icy stare fixed on his phone.
"Yes, brother?" Kalluto's straight back straighten even more.
"I have an additional job. You will go with me."
"Yes, brother." He put a sheet of paper aside.