In which Psyche flirts, Illumi improvises, and the author dies of second hand embarrassment.

Chapter 6: Listen for the Cracks

The longer Illumi waited, the sooner Killua's trail would go cold. His mother's final words tiresomely echoed in his ears. You're late for your own wedding.

As if he already didn't know.

Illumi hung up on the butler, with his mother sharply screaming in the background, without so much as a goodbye and sighed as he overlooked the cityscape down below. He tapped the phone against his chin while focusing intently on the bflinding lights of the city. Squatting as the wild grass brushed against him. Binoculars over his eyes as he followed the little head of white hair skateboarding through the crowd. Where are you going, Killua? He asked himself and the night alone.

It would be so easy to pluck Killua out of the crowd. Rip him out from the horde and drag him back home.

Illumi stifled a laugh, recalling his brother's daring escape. An escape he wasn't even there to bear witness. It was clever of Killua, he had to admit, to act when Illumi left for a mission. But it only proved to Illumi even further that Killua wasn't confident enough to take action in his presence. Blackness brewed in his eyes. And yet the strings were loose enough when he wasn't near. Fear waned in Killua's heart with Illumi out of sight.

This posed a problem.

The puppet learned how to cut its strings when the puppeteer wasn't looking.

This would require a bit of mending.

Illumi's eyes narrowed, laced with vexing anger as rampaging thoughts bolted one after another through his head. His little brother's escape was clearly predemediated. Killua wanted to do this for some time considering he waited until Illumi and all the heads of the household left the Mountain only leaving Mother in charge, with Milluki acting as her support. Milluki wasn't a threat, but Mother certainly was.

"Hm." Illumi hummed and raised his eyebrows, arguing rebuttals with himself.

The gashes in his Mother's face said otherwise. As for Milluki…well, Milluki wasn't worth considering. Milluki and Killua taking their anger out on eachother wasn't particularly new or worrisome on Illumi's part.

Further training was clearly in order if Killua felt he was independent enough to mount a rebellion of his own.

All energy escaped Illumi as he fell onto his back with a thump and gazed up at the night stars, shimmering silver light above him. The stars were so close to each other. He wondered what secrets they were whispering amongst themselves hiding from the earth below.

Then he remembered that the stars couldn't talk and he was a rational man that didn't wonder in the whimsies of what ifs and fantastical fairy tales. Only hypothetically, even if they were whispering, to which he'd tell them to mind their own business, the sky must be a boring place since there was no drama in the midnight black but millions of miles down below. Who was he to deny their only form of entertainment? They were probably laughing at Illumi since he only had one job.

For one night, he allowed himself to indulge the stars.

Illumi's objective was simple, theoretically. Ready the heir. Which implied more than Illumi knew he would be taking on because everything was easier said than done. One day, Killua is to be the head, the forerunner, the leader, of the Zoldycks. Not only will the family follow him, but everyone in the dark underground as well.

Educate the heir; teach him the best places to rip out a man's beating heart without leaving a single trace of blood behind. He must learn to be a pseudo master of anatomy. A doctor of ghoulish delight with bloodlust being his sustenance and poison being his drink of choice.

Shape Killua into a killer; assassins have no need of forming connections or kinships. This naturally came as the biggest shock to Killua. Let Illumi explain. 'Friends' only become double crossers. 'Allies' betray you with enough broken bones and sell you and your secrets in return for having at least one more functional finger. There are many people in this world that promise you empty guarantees of protection under the guile of camaraderie. Naturally, more so in this business than others. Trust was unreliable like finding an open seat on the subway. People will fight you for that seat, even that feeble grandmother with a walker will gladly trample you for it. Her weapon of choice being the walker. Any object can become a fearsome weapon if one is desperate enough. When strangers hurt and double cross you, that isn't deception. It is who they are and all they will ever be, but friends? Friends are tricky, unpredictable, and only get in the way. Friends—supposed equals—when pushed to the brink of death and faced with the dilemma of saving either themselves or you, well, the answer isn't hard to figure out. Illumi just doesn't want Killua getting hurt.

Mold Killua into a threat. No one will dare to strike you down because even their misguided attempts to cross you means facing your instantaneous wraith. Or how Illumi likes to put it, desolation without hesitation.

Turn Killua into a monster, but with table manners and etiquette and fluency in at least five languages and ballroom dancing skills because it was that or ballet. Mother was adamant on ballet until Kilua relented to, rather lazily, shuffling his feet across the ballroom floor. Illumi could only try so hard, but Killua's waltz was pathetic. Girls don't come in gigantic heights like yours, killua screamed at his older brother as he stepped on his foot. Then grow, Illumi barked back. He must be a monstrosity, but also with a degree of refinement as the best monsters are always, unknowingly, welcomed with open arms. Ranging from greetings to foxtrots.

And of course, make sure the heir doesn't die. That's a given, right? Wrong. Killua had a troublesome penchant for picking the best battles that would dig him the deepest graves.

It was amazing how so many endless responsibilities were shoved under one job title. Illumi's purpose in life was serving Killua's ultimate purpose. It was as if Illumi was born into indentured servitude since the day he was born. Even before the birth of his little brother, his fate was predestined.

The qualities that his father and grandfather found so enticing in Killua, only bewildered Illumi. His little brother had one foot in the grave, and the other was purposely wobbling above ground just enough for Illumi to develop an early onset of at least eight different types of heart conditions Killua hand picked out of Satan's bowels himself based on which ones would be the most entertaining for him to watch Illumi's suffering firsthand.

Even so, it was a noble pursuit. Illumi would do anything for his family, no matter how tiresome or how far killua pushed him over the edge. No matter how blindsided Killua was, throwing away all his hard work. His purpose. His life.

Killua's calling is to be an assassin—the greatest of his generation. Why was Kill the only one who couldn't see that?

Illumi forced himself back up and peered into the crowd with his binoculars. He's lost sight of Killua.

The heir is gone.

Is now the time to pop champagne?

The binoculars landed on the wild grass with a dull thud as Illumi leaned back on his arms. Long black hair swaying behind him like a river of pitch black. He looked up at the stars and whispered them a secret. "When I find Killua, I am going to kill him."

The stars already knew this. They wondered why it took him so long to realize it.

"Gravah, we're doing eye makeup here. Steady on the road." Chaotica said as she held Psyche's face in one hand and mascara in the other, gently applying it to her little sister's lashes, wiggling the wand as she swiped. They decided they were going to do their makeup when they were close to Kukuroo Mountain, rather than sitting through an agonizingly long car ride waiting for mascara to clump and lipstick to smear over their teeth.

Chaotica gawked then closed her mouth. "Don't make those eyeballs at me! Just be normal."

Psyche laughed. "I can't! I'm just so excited and nervous and," Psyche made a noise that burst Anomie's eardrums.

Anomie blinked her eyes and stopped combing Psyche's hair. "Don't do that…oh I found another leaf in your hair. God dammit Psyche—-What were you doing? Rolling around in the dirt and muck?"

"Oooooh," Chaotica covered her mouth impishly. "You had her use the Lord's name in vain."

"Like you've never heard me swear before. Look at yourself, you swear like a truck driver."

"Ann, it is essential to know how to speak the language of the road." Chaotica twirled the mascara wand, extravagantly.

Anomie grabbed Psyche's shoulders and smiled, "Take a good look duckie, that is what we call a road rager in denial–" Something scratched her nose. "ANOTHER LEAF. WHY?!" Anomie carefully extracted it from Psyche's hair.

"A leaf is but a memento of nature. Memories of a single moment bound together for one to remember when I am old and grey huddled close to the crackling fire under the stars with tender fondness." Psyche sighed a sweet breath of enchantment.

Anomie raised up an eyebrow, confused. "That was a very specific image. You're either living the posh life in the countryside or you're destitute."

Psyche continued. "Foile's estate was so beautiful. The forest, the air, the essence of it all. I felt like a governess running through the woods on my way to meet with my true love in secret."

"Why a governess….?"

"Because there is tension between the man I work for and the stable boy I yearn for." Psyche said it as if it was the clear and obvious choice.

"Duh, Ann." Chaotica chirped as she dipped the mascara wand back into its tube.

"Right…I'm checking your hair for bugs now." Anomie plucked the dried up leaf in between the tips of fingers and dropped it far away from her. Then wiped her hand on her pants.

"Yes, please."

"I don't want them to look at you and see a feral child that dances in the woods and speaks to raccoons."

"I don't speak to raccoons?"

"And stick to that story. But say it with a little more conviction." What Psyche saw was a keepsake of a fairytale, Anomie saw a breeding ground for at least ten different species of insects. "What took you so long on The Foile's Estate anyway? Dezmon was an easy kill, for you, that's a compliment. Besides meeting up with your woodland lover. I hope," Anomie swallowed a laugh," I hope Illumi isn't the jealous type."

Psyche's face blushed from cheek to cheek. So she likes to romanticize the little moments of her day. From the mundane to her killings and everything in between. There's nothing wrong with that.

Psyche exhaled. "I just wanted to make sure he was dead. Maybe it was just my nerves, but his body was fidgeting a bit. It stopped soon after, but I just wanted to stay for all of Vesper's allotted time and wait." Psyche curled her fists in her lap. From the moment Vesper warped her back into the car, she said nothing about Dezmon's reanimated corpse and what it said to her. It told her not to marry Illumi Zoldyck and that she was in danger. And it recognized her gold chain. Eros's gold chain, which she was currently smuggling in a pocket. She will not lose it again.

Apart from her target's corpse reanimating, something was dreadfully wrong. Eros was dead…but he had friends. Some Psyche knew and others she wasn't aware of. Did they not want her to marry Illumi? What threat could her marriage pose to them? Two high ranking families merging into one does shift power among the dark underground. Do they feel threatened or feel the need to send her a cautionary warning? Did Illumi pose a threat to her? Was she in danger of him or was there something bigger lurking in the shadows waiting to swallow them all?

Or was it bitterness from someone whose love was rejected and they wanted to scare Psyche out of spite?

She…didn't know. And she didn't want to think about it. Not today at least. Today was her day. The start of her happiness wasn't going to be marred by some deadman's ramblings, or someone's petty jealousy.

"Anomie," Calypsa looked up from her phone. "Be kind to not press Psyche for details. She knows what she's doing." Her eyes passed over to Psyche's, cold and warmth melded into one. Her mom was the type of woman who could look in your soul and pull apart your secrets, she hoped Calypsa couldn't see this one. "I just notified your client that the kill was successful. Another happy customer! Now! There will be no more talk of business for you, it's time to take splendor in happy things. Girls, help your sister on her wedding day, look at her! She's a bundle of nerves."

A wave of relief passed over Psyche. She wasn't going to think of dead men and ominous warnings. She was going to smile. There was a lot to smile about. More so than in a long time. "Every part of me is literally shaking. See?" She held her jittery hands up in Chaotica's face. Chaotica pushed them back down.

"Well try to remain still," Chaotica held Psyche's face a little firmer, "or else I'll accidentally poke you in the eye." Chaotica was a master with a makeup brush as she was with a knife. She was a girl with many passions, besides murder, but none were greater than the art of cosmetics. There were two absolutes when it came to Chaotica. Always walk like the hot slut you know you are and always carry a stick of Revlon.

When they finally arrived at the Zoldyck's estate, it was raining.

"This," Calypsa peered out the window then looked back at her girls with a beaming smile on her face. "Is good news. Good news indeed."

Chaotica rummaged through her makeup bag frantically. "This is terrible news! I should have applied waterproof mascara! PSYCHE, GIVE ME BACK YOUR FACE."

Anomie's eyes blinked with amusement. "That is the perfect one liner for a horror story."

"THIS," Chaotica gestured to Psyche's finished pristine face, "Is going to be a horror story. MY WORK. RUINED."

Psyche gazed longingly at the Zoldyck testing gates. She was too content with all the blessings of life to be insulted. "What matters is on the inside." And on the inside she felt nothing but love.

"Aw, that is so well meaning. Now give me your face."

"She's fine." Anomie interjected. "Anymore and you'll make her look like a clown."

"Hmmph! Girls are never clowns, they are princesses." Chaotica huffed, irritated. "And makeup is supposed to make them feel like princesses. When a fairy godmother poofs right in front of you and says she's gonna give you the makeover montage of your life, you don't decline! If I want to glam you up, then I'm going to glam you up."

Anomie pretended to sound insulted. "Don't threaten me with a free makeover."

"I do love makeover montages." Psyche nodded.

Calypsa coughed, and all voices quieted and all eyes turned to her. "Rain on your wedding day is symbolic of good luck. It is a sign that they will be the last tears a bride will shed for the rest of her life. Be merry, my dear. Your marriage will be long lasting, and with many children, might I add."

Psyche couldn't contain her smile. There was a lot to be merry about—oh! "That reminds me, I have to return Illumi's balisong knife he lent me, I'll give it back to him right when I see him—"

"No," Calypsa lurched forward in her seat as if the car halted to an abrupt stop. "Do not do that."

"Why?" Psyche asked, confused.

"Knives as wedding gifts are considered atrocious bad luck. A knife given to someone on their wedding day signifies a broken relationship to come. A knot, no matter how tight, cannot withstand the cut of a sharp blade. It'll cut the ties of your marriage, like that." She flicked her hand in the air, as if demonstrating the striking power of its cut. "If you must give it to him, I can't stop you from doing so, at least wait until sometime after the wedding. Until a sufficient, and safe, amount of time has passed. It's only a silly knife, I doubt he's missing it."

"I'll wait then." Psyche said with a dejected sigh. It wasn't just a silly old knife, maybe it was, but the memories behind it meant more to her than some silly superstition.

"Girls." Calypsa held her head high. "It's time."

The world stilled as they stopped in front of the gates. Psyche breathed, quelling her nerves. The car door opened and there stood Gotoh, the Zoldyck's head butler, holding an umbrella over the opening. For her. He bowed his head, "Welcome. We have been awaiting you."

He walked her to the gate in revered silence, then stopped.

Rain covered Psyche in a veil of translucent droplets of a maiden's final tears. They welcomed her into their family. She had to prove to them they didn't make a mistake.

She rested her hands on the cold stones, like so many before her have done, but none with her purpose.

The gates opened, and her new family welcomed her on the other side. She walked with her head held high.

Psyche dared not show the bewilderment that was rattling her on the inside as her gaze met Kiyko's. Her mother in law's face was bandaged, all except her lips and visor. Her soft pink lips contrasted with the piercing red dot blinking in her visor, as if it were her eyes. The way Kikyo gently smiled, careful not to move her lips too much as to not pull any wounds. The bandages were newly applied, the wounds must be fresh too.

Psyche didn't know how to greet her, whether she should pretend she didn't notice the bandages or gently ask her what happened. But this is a woman's face, and if Kikyo was anything like her own mom, merely mentioning a blemish was enough to ruin her day.

Luckily, Psyche didn't need to decide as Kiyko suddenly burst out into tears. She dropped her umbrella and her knees gave way, falling to the ground. Milluki knelt down and wrapped his arms around his mother and comforted her. The way he moved, the wince of pain detected deep in the depths of his eyes. He was in pain too. Kalluto stood solemnly beside his mother and older brother. There was a quiet pain in his eyes. It was a look one had to examine closely to notice or else could easily confuse for apathy.

It hit Psyche like a cold front. There were faces missing from the crowd. Where was Silva? Zeno? Killua?

Where was Illumi?

Illumi was the first person her eyes searched for in the group. Her heart sank. He was nowhere to be found. It was only the three Zoldycks and a few butlers who greeted them.

Kiyko held out her hands and Psyche instinctively held onto them. Kneeling down in the mud along with her mother in law. Her mother in law was in pain, and Psyche's heart instantly ached for hers.

"Thank you, my dear." Kiyko rasped, barely having the strength to speak.

Even Calypsa hiked up her skirt and barged through the rain without a care of ruining her appearance and held her friend in an embrace. "Kikyo, what has happened to you!? Who has done this to you!?"

Kikyo couldn't hold back her tears and the dot in her visor glitched as if the misery in her heart seeped its way into her gadget. "He's gone."

Psyche's heartbeat instantly spiked, fearing the worst. "Who's gone?"

"My son." Kiyko rasped. "Kill has run away from home."

Psyche refused to admit the relief that washed over her. She instantly felt guilty because of it. Then came the fear for her brother in law. It would be a tragedy to lose another brother. But that still didn't answer her question…where was her fiance?

"I should have told Illu to get him, oh Calyspa, I think I made a huge mistake. He's still a child. How can Kill survive out there on his own?"

Calypsa barked orders to the butlers, "Let's all go inside, and bring us hot tea and towels." The butlers quickly followed her commands without hesitation.

Milluki's eyes caught Chaotica's.

Hi again, she quietly mouthed to him and winked.

Milluki shuddered.

Anomie lowered her tone to a quiet whisper. "Would it kill you to refrain from doing anything…you."

"I was only saying hello." Chaotica was all mischief and vice.

Both families and the butlers headed towards the estate, with the youngest lot trailing in the back. Kalluto, with his luminous amethyst eyes, peered at Psyche with nothing but an unreadable expression that veered towards a slight scowl on his face.

Psyche smiled. "Let's go in before we're soaked. Here, have my jacket or you'll catch your death—"

"I'm not the one you should be worrying about." Kalluto sternly rejected her. "Think about yourself. That is what you're good at."

Huh?

Kalluto's black hair whisked around him as he quickly turned his head away from Psyche. With his chin turned up at her. Briskly walking away.

For a moment, Psyche just stood there and thought about what he said, until she could no longer feel the rain on her shoulders and heard the pitter patter of rain above her head. Gotoh never left her side.

"Shall we head inside."

She let him guide her to the Mountain. The first memory of her arrival seared its way into her bones. Veiling her in frost. Cold. She craved nothing but warmth hoping to find it in the place she hoped to soon call her home.

Psyche took one last look behind her and watched the gates close. On and on it rained, sealing her inside.

"Is the room to your liking, Mistress?" Amane stood rigidly in the corner with her hands folded and her back straight as an arrow upon escorting Psyche to her new room. Upon entering the manor, the butlers escorted each member of the Moiraio family to their rooms. Except for Calypsa and Kikyo, who were both curled up in the living room, warming themselves up by the fire and drinking tea. Psyche could hear Kikyo cry about disobedient sons and wondering where she went wrong in raising Killua and Calypsa nodded her head in understanding at every tear spilled by Kiyko.

Sons! Psyche heard Calypsa scoff, managing to get a laugh out of the miserable mother. Who only resumed crying in the next breath.

"Mistress."

Startled, Psyche turned around. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Is the room not to your liking?" Amane asked, with a placid expression on her face.

Mistress?

She could get used to that.

"It's perfect, thank you."

"All your luggage has arrived. I trust that once you unpack, you will see that everything has been accounted for."

Psyche looked around the spacious room filled with cardboard boxes full of her belongings. The soles of her shoes clacked against the bare wooden floor, the brisk sound echoing off the walls. This room was clean, pristine, and unmarked. It hasn't been lived in yet. There was the standard set of furniture. An armoire, vanity and chair, bookcase with empty shelves waiting to be filled with all her most beloved adventures, and a dressing screen designed with beautiful prints of blue and purple hydrangeas.

There was also one bed. Only one bed.

Psyche cocked her head to the side. This bed was quite small for two people. Unless, that is how it is supposed to be.

Psyche cleared her throat. "I'm not sure how much Illumi will be bringing into the room, but maybe I can move some furniture around that can help accommodate us both."

Amane blinked. "That won't be necessary."

"Did Illumi already move his belongings in here?" All the boxes looked like hers. All marked with labels written in her cursive writing. Perhaps his things will be moved in later.

"My apologies," A pink blush bloomed on Amane's cheeks. "This room is entirely rooms. Mistress."

Psyche internally slapped herself for asking a foolish question. Her and Illumi would be having separate rooms. Of course, they would take it slow. Slower is better. She would have suggested separate rooms if she was asked beforehand, but clearly she wasn't because they already read her mind…but…they wouldn't be sharing rooms? Was there at least a door that connected their rooms together? A secret corridor hidden behind a conspicuously placed elaborate tapestry hung on the wall? Two tin cans attached to each other with string? Anything was better than nothing. Back home, a door connected her bedroom to Eros's. He was only ever a knock away.

Psyche pivoted around and faced Amane. "Where is Illumi?"

Amane looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Is his room down the hall? May you show me? I'd like to see him."

"Master Illumi isn't home. Yet."

"When will he be?"

Amane didn't look like she had the answer to that question. "I will notify you as soon as he arrives." Immediately after she said those words, she saw the disappointment on the young bride's face. She quickly fumbled over her words, "Please, don't worry. This won't be a recurring problem since it will be nice for master Illumi to be home more."

"Illumi is rarely home?"

"Amane," Tsubone called out to her granddaughter as she stood looming beneath the door frame. Psyche bowed her head in politeness. "What troubles are you imbuing Mistress Psyche with at this hour?"

Amane's shoulders quivered as she waved her hands in front of her, nervously. "I didn't mean to offend, grandmother, I–"

Tsubone smiled, "I'm only kidding." She turned to Psyche, smiling sweetly. "As someone who was once a young bride myself, I sense your eagerness, but we humbly apologize and ask for your patience in the meantime. There is nothing to worry about. Master Illumi is dedicated to his work, tirelessly upholding the family business. He is truly an excellent assassin, and I'm sure what Amane meant to say, once you two are married, it will be nice for him to slow down so you may both enjoy your youth. Right, Amane?"

"Yes!"

"Amane will personally tend to you, but if you ever need me, I will always be here for you."

"Thank you, Tsubone."

"Due to Master Killua's unexpected departure, it has shaken the family quite a bit. The wedding ceremony will commence in the morning when everything is in order. You must be very tired from your long journey."

"Actually, I'm quite awake." Psyche tugged on her sleeves and lightly laughed.

"Amane will help you prepare to rest. Clean sheets and blankets have already been laid out for you."

"Of course, but first I would like to see my sisters, which rooms are they–"

"They are being attended to as we speak."

"Yes, but a quick goodnight would be eno–"

"Early to bed, early to rise. Mistress." Suddenly, Tsubone loomed taller over her, scarier. And worse, reminded Psyche of her mom.

Psyche squeaked. "Yes, ma'am."

Psyche was surprised they didn't lock the door when they finally left. She dropped onto her bed and pulled Eros's gold chain out of her pocket. The gold glittered underneath the soft light. She curled up on her bed and held the necklace close to her heart and treasured a moment of silence amongst the endless chaos. She will be married tomorrow. Never today. How much longer will she have to wait? All her life, she has been waiting and she was tired of it.

"I want him." Him.

Her heart knew which one that meant.

Someone ripped her blanket off her.

Not someone. Something.

Psyche rubbed her eyes and gazed at a blurry image of her shadow which contained too much energy to stay still as it paced around the room. Dropping the blanket to the floor into a disheveled clump.

"Go away," Psyche moaned. "I'm too tired. Can't it wait for tomorrow?"

It grabbed a hold of Psyche's ankles and pulled. The answer was no.

Psyche gripped onto the headboard. If her shadow wanted to whisk her away to god knows where, then the headboard was coming with her. In this moment, she loved no one more than her bed. No one would separate them, not even her own shadow. "What could be so important." Psyche hissed.

Her shadow clasped its hands together and mockingly swooned over, falling on the floor with a hand resting over its forehead, dramatically.

Psyche narrowed her eyes, "You woke me up to make fun of me."

The shadow nodded and pointed to the door, forcefully.

"You were snooping around the estate on your own?! Do you know how dangerous that is? What if someone saw you? WHAT IF MOM SAW YOU. WHAT IF—"

It finally clicked.

Psyche jumped out of bed. Heart thrumming her wide awake. She ran to her vanity table—almost toppling over the chair—and combed through her hair in a feverish frenzy. Untangling knots and flattening her bed head.

"Sometimes, I swear, you're the only one who is ever truly helping me."

The shadow crossed its arms and nodded its head, smugly. Of course it was, it meant to say if it could say anything at all.

Psyche believed she was so much more than a girl who waits.

As her Mom always said, if you're staring at the door waiting for adventure to barge in and take you by the arms and whisk you away, then that's how you'll spend your whole life. Forever destined to watch a closed door stay shut.

Psyche stood up and twirled in front of her vanity mirror, watching her nightdress fan around her and fall gracefully over her thighs. She carefully inspected her reflection in the mirror. Cute.

The time for waiting has ended. She quietly opened her bedroom door and let her shadow guide her away to her biggest adventure.

Her shadow led her to the kitchen and then receded into Psyche's own and out of sight.

Her heart beated loudly in her chest.

He was here.

She heard the sounds of someone quietly rummaging through the kitchen, careful not to awaken a sleeping home. A bowl clinking against the counter top. The refrigerator door swinging open. Illumi clicking his tongue; searching for whatever could settle a hungry stomach after midnight.

For a moment she dared to step back and leave him. Losing all courage. Thinking it would be better to approach him in the morning when she can be announced and for him, she just so happened to peer through the gap in the door frame, to be fully dressed. Psyche squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her palms. Don't be a coward.

She wanted to talk to him. Be with him. Waiting any longer would be unbearable. Yet at the same time, she was trembling.

She was Psyche Moiraio. An assassin. A slayer of beasts. An Angel of Death for the beaten and downcast. A weapon forged by no other than herself. But tonight, all that seemed to be forgotten. Tonight, she was only a girl longing to be with her soon to be husband.

She took a deep breath, pulled the sleeve of nightgown low revealing only her bare shoulder, and willed herself into the kitchen. It was time to be brave.

Illumi turned to her and, dear god, she would have fainted on the spot. She gasped in surprise, ever so lightly but not too faint to not be heard and not too loud where it was obviously forced. It was just enough to be as if she had no idea he was here at all and not rehearsing her introduction outside the kitchen door beforehand. Undisputedly and authentically accidental.

"Oh," Psyche blushed and very indiscreetly lifted her sleeve to cover up her bare shoulder, as if she just now realized she wasn't alone. Not too fast, but not slow either. Was he looking? It was too dark to tell. "I didn't know anyone was here." Her lashes fluttered as her eyes drifted upwards to his. On the outside she looked warm and inviting, but on the inside she had on idea what the hell she was doing.

The lights were dim, barely even enough to make out the entirety of the kitchen. Didn't matter, the dark never bothered her anyway. The light bulb from the refrigerator glowed upon his skin like heavenly light. White light illuminating his bare chest and revealing his sculpted body all the way down to his hips that were peeking a bit above the seam line of his black shorts. Disheveled strands of long, ebony hair softly fanned out around his body, but mostly fell behind his back. As if he awakened from slumber out of restlessness and hunger. It was hard for her not to follow each strand as if they were black paved roads each leading her to him. It was an alluring untidiness of his that is rarely seen and barely caught. She'll treasure it. She wondered if it was alright for them to be here together, the next moments were monumentally crucial.

He closed the refrigerator door, and the kitchen was swallowed in a dull light. It was hard to read his expressions. "No worries. I was just leaving."

A part of her was expecting more. That he'd damn etiquette and rush to her, passion taking over and making up for all the lost moments they were apart. Naturally, he is tired and frankly if she were in his position that bowl of cereal would be the greatest love of her life in that moment of hunger.

What would her sisters do….Anomie frowned upon desperation. Psyche doesn't want to throw herself into his lap, but if worse comes to shove, she considers herself to be a very open minded girl. But what else could she do? She shooed those thoughts away!

Psyche leaned back against the cabinet to let him pass through, until he stopped.

Her heart leapt from her chest.

Illumi was on her. His hand thumped against the counter behind her back as he leaned towards her, neck arching down to meet her gaze. He was taller than she remembered. If she wanted to kiss him she'd have to stand on her toes. Should she tempt faith and try? She felt everything inside her tighten as she clenched her hands in front of her chest. Did he want to take her now? Right here? On the counter top?

She remembered what Chaotica said, but her heart was beating louder to listen to anything else. She didn't trust herself, fearing that she'd blindly say yes to whatever he asked of her. Her heart thrummed so hard in her chest, she wondered if he could hear it himself.

Illumi tapped his finger on the counter, a sound that quickly popped her out of her fantasy. His eyes met hers then drifted down then back up to hers again.

Oh, she was in his way.

She moved for him to pull out the drawer she was standing in front of to grab a spoon for his bowl of cereal. To her surprise, Illumi turned back around and leaned against the counter. Facing Psyche.

He ate a spoonful of cereal and after a moment he pointed his spoon at her and she tensed.

"Did you not want to turn up?"

"Yes." Psyche said quickly and without thinking, instantly regretting her words. That wasn't a question she hoped he'd ask her. He was asking her if she didn't want to be here. Shit. "Ah, no, sorry. I really wanted to come." She wondered if there was anything she wasn't going to regret saying tonight. "And that's not what I meant either."

Illumi titled his head down and smiled, broad shoulders lifted as he laughed lightly under his breath while stirring his cereal. "I didn't mean to startle you, but mother said your journey here was delayed? Our conversation was so brief, she left me thinking you turned into a runaway bride. I only just got home," he looked at the clock to his left and counted the short hours he was at home, "so I wasn't able to catch up with all the details."

"It was really, really bad traffic." Psyche crossed her arms to hide the fact that she was pinching herself. "Is Killua alright?" Psyche changed the topic, worry edged into her voice. Why was she even asking the obvious? His mother was in tears, and literal shreds, because Killua ran away from home. He was anything but alright.

Illumi hummed, scraping his spoon against the bowl. "Mmh. The pressure of being the heir is getting to him. He doesn't think he's ready for the responsibility. I assume." He whispered in a low voice, more focused on his cereal. Psyche wasn't sure if she detected a hint of bitterness, or sadness, in his tone—

Wait.

That really couldn't have been right. Either she misheard him or a part of her brain malfunctioned. Illumi is the heir. He has always been the heir. He's the first born son, the most powerful, the most deadly, the most perfect assassin in every way...he's Illumi. Everything that Killua isn't. And wasn't Killua twelve years old, so why is he the heir? Things weren't making sense. Illumi has always been the heir and Psyche is supposed to be the wife of the Zoldyck heir. That is what her family was promised.

There were things the Moiraio Family were left in the dark about.

A bitter taste snapped at the back of her throat. In that moment, a wave of shame passed over her as a singular thought floated by and anchored itself into her head, resting snuggling at the bottom of her skull. Throwing her off balance with pestering questions that piled on one after another. Her feelings for Killua far surpassed worry and crossed over into mad and deranged curiosity. Killua took what belonged to Illumi. No, not taken. Stolen. He stole his older brother's birthright. She was curious what Killua did to let his parents stand idly by and let it happen. She was even more curious why Ilumi stood down only for Killua to rise and take his place. It baffled her.

As his wife, she didn't want to be left in the dark, but now wasn't the time to be asking questions.

Illumi blinked, a spoonful of cereal paused mid air. "Huh?"

Psyche tensed.

"You're giving me a look."

Ever since she walked through the kitchen, she was giving him many looks, and signs. Hoping he'd notice at least one. Maybe to tell her she is pretty and wanted to kiss her and most definitely not a fool. Right now, she believed she was a fool and fools don't get kisses. They get interrogations. "It's just been such a long time since I've last seen you. You look different, but still the same."

"Oh. So that's why." Illumi tipped his spoon back into the bowl, stirring the milk. A mischievous smile tugged in the corner of his lips, as if he was enjoying her surprised reaction. She hoped he didn't see how red her face was. "You didn't know Killua's the heir."

All color washed from her face. Dear God, was this a test? Her plan was to unintentionally and coincidentally run into him here and have him sweep her off her feet. His idea, of course, of which she had no part of enacting. Her lips are always glossy with a subtle glimmer and her hair is always perfectly wavy in just the right places at 4 am.

Psyche gulped, "I think someone mentioned it to me."

"Who?"

"Who….evades me. But yeah?" She nervously fixed a strand of hair that was already perfect. Lies. No one told her a thing. But she might as well play it off coolly, so he'll stop asking.

"It was probably Mother. Right?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Psyche nodded. Faking it.

"When?"

WHY DOES HE NEED TO KNOW THE TIME WHEN SHE FOUND OUT HE ISN'T THE HEIR!? NOW. IT WAS NOW. AND IT WAS HE WHO TOLD HER. HIM.

"Do you want to know the temperature too? Whether it was hot, cold—"

"I only accept metric." Illumi deadpanned.

She didn't intend for her jaw to drop when Illumi began to laugh. Something inside of her told her he already knew she was lying, and he was taking his time reveling in it. He exhaled a final laugh, and placed the bowl back on the counter top. He ripped a paper towel from a roll and wiped some milk off of his fingers. "Thank you, I needed that. It's been a long day."

"...Anytime."

"In all seriousness. He'll be home soon, but I'll probably have to fetch him before that happens." Illumi leaned his arms back on the counter, sighing at the hassle Killua will put him through in the future.

Sighing. Half naked. The way his muscles rise and fall when he breathes, casting altering shadows on him alluringly. He knows his abs are chiseled? And the power they have on practically anyone with two eyes and the gift of sight? Psyche averted her eyes and fixed them on the roll of paper towels.

She wondered how guys could be so confident, flaunting their half naked bodies so easily. She's shy just wearing a bikini at the beach. She didn't know if he was flexing for her or if this was him, obliviously, sighing dramatically in the face of impending uncertainty.

Whichever it was….she liked it.

"He's a strong one, I'm sure he'll be fine until then." Psyche reassured him.

"Don't let him hear you or you'll inflate his ego. It's already a monstrosity."

"A little bit of ego fluffing never hurts when dealing with matters of persuasion."

"Really, now? And you know from experience?"

"You're doubting me?"

"Only inquiring." He rested his chin in his hand and tapped his lips once with his index finger. "I have a feeling no one can say no to you."

Psyche raised her shoulders and breathed. Willing herself to be brave. "Can you?"

He smiled. As if accepting her invitation to a challenge. "I'll have to be careful around you."

Psyche looked at the floor as she bit her bottom lip. Smiling. Then, she cleared her throat and looked up at him and met his eyes. For a moment, she expected to see the same warm glimmer that glowed in hers, and yet he was smiling, but his eyes….were so black. His eyes burrowed deep into hers and pierced her heart. Dark and black and empty. No poetry could describe the cold that swept through her. Capturing her breath into utter stillness.

She was no stranger to darkness. It was a stinging emptiness she was all too familiar with.

"I know," Psyche folded her arms over her chest and spoke softly. "I know what it's like to lose a brother. I'm so sorry for what happened to Alluka. He was so young." She paused. "The pain...it hurts, and it hurts more than people think and longer than people say it does. But day by day, it hurts a little less. Some days it hurts like hell and others it becomes bearable. I know it's late and I don't want to keep you too long, but if you ever need to talk to someone about it, even to have someone that just listens. It's easier to ignore everything you're feeling and be quiet, trust me…but quietness is its own kind of suffocating." Before he knew it, she was holding his hand in hers. Her touch was gentle and warm. "And talking helps. Sometimes horrible things happen, but that doesn't mean we can't fight against them alone. I know you're scared about losing another brother. I would be scared too. I'm here for you, if you'll let me."

Illumi held onto her hand longer than he realized.

He slowly pulled back. Slowly letting go of her warmth. "Good night, Psyche. I'll see you tomorrow—a few hours from now." He corrected himself. He grabbed his bowl and when he was just about to leave the kitchen, he stopped under the door-frame. "You look different, but are still the same too."

A soft smile curled on her lips, "Good night, Illumi."

Illumi was used to walking through the long and empty corridors alone. The only sounds being his footsteps and the nightly whispers of the mountain wind sneaking its way through the cracks of chamber doors. He took his time walking to his room thinking about what she said to him. Then he stopped. Raising his hand she held and stared at it curiously. Opening and closing it. Psyche…she was skittish, but had a caring heart.

The house snuffs those out quickly.

"Illu." A woman's voice echoed through the vast corridor.

He lowered his hand and turned to his Mother calling after him. She was wrapped in her nightly robes and held a candle to light her way. "Be my dear and help Mother. There is much we need to discuss." She turned, knowing he'd follow.

He realized that he had no use of his meal any longer, so he placed the bowl on the stone floor, next to the wall. One of the butlers will find it and take care of it.

He followed Kikyo. Quietly and obediently. As was expected of first born sons. And if they weren't born that way by nature, they were taught to be.

It was a lesson he has never been quite able to shake.

The light of the candle faded as his Mother led him away, entombing the corridor in complete darkness.

Milluki stood in front of the kitchen door and breathed. Even though it was dark, he recognized Psyche roaming in the corridors. This is where she was most likely to be.

He ruffled his hair—shaping it to what he thought looked stylish. He cleared his voice and put on a brave face. He decided he was going to pretend he didn't notice her.

He flung open the kitchen door, "I DIDN'T KNOW ANYONE WAS HERE—" he was a terrible actor.

Milluki flinched.

"Hello youuuuuu," Chaotica cooed as she slammed a butcher's knife into an italian sausage. "I was feeling peckish. Care to join me—"

Milluki ran faster than Draco Malfoy running out of the forbidden forest whilst abandoning Harry Potter amidst Voldemort's exclusive unicorn blood buffet. That boy could have won an olympic gold medal. Draco Malfoy acts like the best of the best, but he's the first one to run—just like Milluki.

Chaotica cackled. She forgot how much she missed tormenting him.

Psyche made her way back to her room, unnoticed by the all seeing eyes of Tsubone, and fell face down on her bed.

She kicked her legs up and down and pivoted her body to lay flat on her back.

Then she turned face down again and squealed into the sheets.

"I need to document this moment on my phone so I don't forget a single detail." Psyche hurriedly pulled out her phone and panicked when she saw it only had 2% of energy left. There has to be an outlet somewhere in this room? She checked near the nightstand and a fraction of a plastic square that was sticking out from behind the bed frame.

Her memories were at stake! She got up and pushed the bed as it squeaked against the floor. Suddenly, she stopped pushing when she noticed something peculiar.

She ran her fingers over the chipped paint, feeling the knobbly and coarse texture underneath her fingertips.

There was a crack in the wall.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING CHAPTER 6! I hope you liked the chapter! Pls review and tell me your thoughts~ I named this chapter "listen for the cracks" very intentionally, because i'm sure you've caught several cracks yourself. Psyche has a particular imagine of married life and that image is tumbling down right before her, yay :D Let's review some! Kalluto doesn't like Psyche for REASONS. The Moiraio Family was never told that Illumi isn't the heir anymore. Illumi doesn't spend much time at home...why? Alluka is dead!? (well...that's only what the Moiraio family was lead to believe *evil laughter*) Regarding Alluka's pronouns, Psyche doesn't know that Alluka identifies as a girl so that's why she said brother. There's a lot Psyche doesn't know about hahaha...Illumi has A LOT to explain...or not lol and this time i promiseeee the wedding is GOING TO HAPPEN next chapter...things just happen BUT THIS TIME I'M SERIOUS. LET'S GOOOOOO.

I also got to explore the sisters and Calypsa more. Calypsa is very superstitious and Chaotica always cracks me up XD

Merry Christmas and happy holidays! May Santa Claus bring you many gifts and I wish you health and happiness for the new year to come!

Don't forget to review and see you in the New Year! byyyyeeeee *hearts*