The first scene in italics is a flashback that is a continuation of chapter 3 when a group of hunters attacked the Moiraio mansion.

Chapter 9: The Wedding Night

Anomie used to be the sweetest girl—until she became an older sister. Not only did she have to look out for herself, but she had to look out for all her little siblings whose numbers didn't seem to stop rising. There was a bittersweet tang to growing up, responsibility grinded away the edges of her kindness and varnished her soul with duty and fear. There was danger around every corner, there was always someone who wanted to hurt them—both inside and outside the mansion. Even now, as she pulled up a chair and sat facing the vulgar hunter who dared to come upon their property and carry away their heads in blood soaked bags, that danger was never going to end.

Moiraio women are never wanted well. They are always wanted dead, or alive and captured only to die shortly later for laughs and kicks and insane stacks of cash.

Anomie looked down at the hunter's bloody and battered arm. Chaotica's work is exquisitely devious. The assassin clicked her tongue as she grimaced at his arm. It truly was revolting.

Chaotica wiped blood off her knife, and smiled at herself in its reflection. She didn't turn her head as she said, "his arm looks terrible." She knew it was. She made sure of it. Any less and her reputation would be on the line.

"I don't think he'll be able to use it anymore." Anomie looked up at the hunter, her gaze startled him. "Are you left handed?" A brisk laugh caught in her throat. "Not that the choice matters anymore. If not, well, I suppose you'll just have to learn. Hm. Do you think it'll have to—"

Chaotica's excitement fizzled with a flourish. "Oh definitely. It'll have to be cut off straight away—Oh Ann, I think we're making him cry!"

The hunter fought back against tears and pain as he gnarled his teeth at the two demons torturing him all night. It only took one girl, the one with sunlight hair, to kill all his men without breaking a sweat. If his employer would have cared to tell him that one Moiraio woman had the strength of a hundred men he would have brought an army with him. The job wasn't worth the pay. It wasn't even worth risking his life. "You crazy bitches!" He spat in Anomie's face and got her right in between her nose and her mouth.

Chaotica instantly gasped as she covered her hands over her mouth and looked at the hunter horrified, "you shouldn't have done that, dumbass."

Anomie wiped her face with her sleeve in complete disgust. And soon a fire burned in her eyes, the last remnants of sanity, if she had any left, snapped. She gave it right back to him. She got him right in his eyes. Dead center.

The man instantly screamed as his eyes began to scorch and burn and sizzle with a sickening sound like water being poured into a pan of bubbling hot oil.

Chaotica removed her hands, revealing a wide and wondrous smile. "I love that people don't know you can do that."

"Touch me again." Anger scorched Anomie's tongue, "and you burn."

The man only screamed in agony. That was all he could do.

"Ann, who's going to do it?"

Anomie stood up and walked over to the shed's clock. "It'll be too late for him even if he is rushed to the hospital at this hour." She turned her head to the side as she pulled back the hour hand on the clock, setting the clock back in time. "This clock is behind though. Who knows how much time he really has left."

"Oh oh oh!" Chaotica gushed.

"Go on."

"We should do it for him." Chaotica's best ideas were always brought to life in the dead of night. Polished by the screams of men.

If the man had eyes left they would have surely popped out of his head. Now he was a slobbering, sobbing mess. Pleading, no no no no no. The girls of no medical experience didn't pay him any attention as they continued discussing an impromptu amputation.

Without real convincing at all, Anomie conceded. She turned around and shrugged, calmly. Bored even. "We are here. Might as well. Where will you make the incision?"

"Wherever the knife lands."

"Reasonable enough."

"I could be a nurse y'know, I would look so sexy in uniform."

"Please, Chaotica, not in front of the patient. He's already gone blind."

Chaotica whipped her head in front of the hunter's. It looked like goo was dripping down from his eye sockets. The hunter didn't even react when she did. Wow, he really has gone blind. "You can't look. You can't touch. You can't do much of anything anymore, can you." The hunter lunged forward in his chair causing Chaotica to jump back, laughing. "He still has some fight left in him. I love a good player. They make the games more fun to play."

Chaotica surveyed her surgical tools of choice and hummed.

"Nurse, what is the problem?" Anomie asked.

Chaotica sighed. "I suddenly realize now that I want to be a doctor."

"Ma'am this is the ER. Surgery now. Existential crisis later."

Chaotica snorted. A nasally, hysteric, and un-ladylike snort. A sound she only dared utter in front of her family. "I don't know which one to choose, if I'm being honest, Doctor Ann."

"I know and you rarely ever are."

"Yeeeeah. I want it to be interesting. I can't just pick anything y'know, it has to be something with flair, something that will memorialize the moment. Something that says 'wow, I chose the wrong day to mess with the wrong people'—I know how!" She pointed her finger at one knife and cleared her voice, "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe–"

The hunter cursed at them. High shrills and ear splitting curses.

Anomie looked insulted. "Sir, you're throwing off the nurse's groove."

The hunter cursed louder, promising to do all the things the girls have already done to him and then some.

Anomie shook her head, once. Dejected. "I don't think he approves of your method."

Chaotica stopped mid rhyme. "And we don't approve of him and his men barging onto our property without so much as a notice wanting to end every last one of us, to kill, to sell, to mount our heads on the wall—heck I want to be admired but that's taking it to the extreme—just hours away before our baby sister's wedding. Ugh, they didn't even bring a gift with them just to pretend to be nice."

"That is very inhospitable. Can't even pretend to be nice."

"Even uncle Jax brought a gift and you know what I think of him."

Anomie leaned in close to the hunter and whispered into his ear. A not so secretive secret. "She thinks he's a prick."

Chaotica continued. "And to that I say, catch a tiger by the toe!"

Anomie nodded to the hunter who couldn't see her. "She has a point."

"If he hollers, let him goooooo." Chaotica sung with a grand crescendo.

"Lovely." Anomie clapped.

"Thank you, I've been practicing."

"My mother told me to pick the very best one and you are it." Her finger landed on a blunt knife. One that was old and rusted and has seen better days. It was perfect.

They strapped the hunter's arm down on the table and held it tightly. What becomes of a hunter who can no longer hunt? They will soon find out.

Anomie's voice was dangerous. "We really don't want to do this to you—scratch that. She really does."

"I really do." Chaotica gripped the knife with a fiery passion.

"You have the power to stop all of this right now. All we need is a name."

The hunter's lips were quivering, "I told you everything I know."

"Did you?" Anomie's voice was cold like ice. "I'm not convinced you did."

Chaotica raised the knife higher. Waiting on her older sister's command. She would have used Viewfinder to look into the hunter's memories, but her ability locks quadruple the time for however long she previously used it. And they didn't have time to sit around and wait.

"Just tell us who put a target over our heads and this will all be over." Anomie's voice softened. She trailed her fingers on his skin—it only took one flash of burned skin for the man to confess.

"H-he's powerful and wealthy," the hunter gulped down air.

Anomie feigned surprise, it wasn't unlike any of their other enemies. How cliche. "So it's a he. What a detailed profile you've painted for us. I can see him so clearly now."

Chaotica twirled the knife. "Does he have a name? They usually come with one."

"He wishes to remain anonymous."

"Why are men always so shy?" Chaotica mumbled to no one in particular.

"They always are when they have something to hide." Anomie added.

The hunter swallowed. "He has resources to destroy all of you."

"By deadly resources, you mean…." Anomie pointed to the hunter, who she easily tied up in their garden shed, and silently mouthed, 'him, this guy, this schmuck?' Chaotica just shrugged back. "ok. That is…a comfort to no one but you."

The hunter laughed, as if the assassins knew nothing at all. "It was to assess your family's strength."

"You're seriously trying to buy yourself time?" Anomie's voice was rough. "Time is irrelevant here. No amount more or less will change your fate."

"It was a test," he felt a blade slide against his skin. A trickle of blood slid down his neck.

"We're sick of being tested." Chaotica scoffed. "Did we pass with flying colors? Did we win the praise of this elusive mystery man? As a prize do we get to shake his hand?"

The hunter slowly turned his head towards the younger sister's voice and drew out a low, bitter sound. "Hardly."

Anomie straightened, the hunter was in no position to act smug. "He isn't going to tell us anything. Or at least, anything we need."

Chaotica raised the knife. It was all the same to her.

When it was all done Anomie pawed at the hunter's pockets until she found what she was looking for. She wiped the blood off it and held it up and into the light. So this is what a hunter's license looked like. "Take this. It might come in handy."

Chaotica pressed the license to her lips. With a kiss she bid a final farewell to the hunter.

Anomie pressed her hand against the corpse and watched as his skin burned like paper. First it flickered into embers then soared into a roaring fire. Ashes to ashes, and the hunter fell down.

Chaotica held the license and looked at it with genuine awe. "I should become a hunter."

"You would make a terrible one."

Chaotica's laughter roared along with the fire. "Does it matter?"

Anomie looked back at the burning body. A hunter. A thief. A killer. A vagabond. A schmuck.

"No. It doesn't matter."

After the wedding reception ended, the Moiraio sisters gathered together in Psyche's new room. Chaotica surveyed the bedroom with condescending eyes and easily came to the conclusion that it was boring and drab and that it was no different than stuffing her baby sister in a broom closet. Psyche's vision was clearly blinded by rose tinted glasses and it was Chaotica's duty, as her esteemed older sister, to give it a complete makeover. However, miracles only happen one at a time. Right now, her main focus was to make Psyche irresistibly hot for tonight; not even that soulless, emotionless, pin head of her husband could resist!

Chaotica opened Psyche's dresser drawer and pulled out one of her night shifts. She held it far away from her, as if bad fashion taste could rub off of her somehow like catching a winter cold. She squeaked out, skeptically. "Is this what you'll be wearing tonight?"

Psyche blinked, catching the tone in her older sister's voice. That night dress was inspired by Victorian era fashion. The ruffled collar and the pink bow in the front brought it a modern touch. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Oh, nothing. It's…cute." Chaotica dropped the white dress back into the dresser, and prayed to God it would get lost, in there, in the laundry, out the window, never to be seen again. "Well, as it so happens, I'm a generous gift giver." She flung a suitcase on Psyche's bed and clicked open the locks to reveal an array of scandalous lingerie.

Psyche leaned over them, hesitantly. Not one of them flowed with the grace of a Victorian maiden exploring her husband's dark and mysterious manor at night by flickering candlelight intent to find the ghost of his previous wife who died tragically—accidentally or even more tantalizing by foul play—by flinging herself off a cliff and is now haunting Psyche because she flung herself into her husband's bed. Death does not put a stopper on love. And neither could Chaotica change Psyche's mind about her choice in nightwear.

Chaotica lifted one piece out of the suitcase. It was black and lacy and looked like something Psyche wouldn't have the guts to wear—considering there was barely anything there to wear at all. "It has…" Psyche tried to find something nice to say, "...so many holes."

Chaotica wasn't unaware of that expression of mortification on Psyche's face. But then again, you only have a wedding night once. "I have something with a little more flair." She unzipped a compartment and pulled out what looked like a ball of string.

"Is that a ribbon to tie around a robe?"

"No, this is the lingerie."

"But it's all string!"

Chaotica laughed. "It'll look better when I unravel it."

Psyche feared if she unraveled it there would be nothing left. Instead, she opened her drawer and pulled out her night shift that Chaotica was determined to shove away into a never ending abyss. Psyche let it sway in front of her body and twirled as if she was dancing with a prince at a ball.

Chaotica wanted to barf. That shift fell below Psyche's knees.

"Shifts are simple and elegant. They are seductive, but don't give too much away. They are inviting, but not too forward. They are daring, but not too unreasonable." She twirled again. "They make me feel like a princess—"

Chaotica turned to Anomie. "Psyche just called me a whore."

Anomie looked up from her slice of wedding cake, it was too good to not have a third slice. "Boo, you whore."

Chaotica wrinkled her nose and smiled, suppressing a revolting curse. "I'm withholding profanity because it is her special day." She pointed to Psyche, as if her little sister was to blame for Chaotica not being able to curse freely like a truck driver. "And you're not supposed to call me a whore back."

Anomie almost choked on her cake, swallowing down a laugh. "I'm only repeating what you told me."

"YEAH," She couldn't beat that argument, it was very convincing. "But you don't have to agree with me."

"I have a mind of my own and I use it however I please. So, boo." Anomie waved her fork in the air, and bit down a smile. As if she was going to say more, but decided against it.

Chaotica wouldn't stand for that, so she didn't. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes while Anomie enjoyed another forkful of cake.

"I want to personally thank whichever butler who made this cake. They created something beautiful. Wow. The things you can do with butter and sugar."

Chaotica swiped the cake out of Anomie's hands, "mmh you're right. It is delish." She stuffed a piece in her mouth and swallowed it.

Anomie leaned back in her chair and a darkness clouded her eyes. "Bitch, I will cut you."

"That's my line. Get your own." Chaotica rebelliously devoured the last morsel of buttercream frosting off the spongy cake which sent Anomie into a spiral of rage. Good. Be angry. Throw a fit. It won't bring back what you treasured the most.

Psyche sighed as she folded her night shift and placed it neatly back in her dresser. "I won't be needing any of these tonight."

Psyche wasn't as prudish as Chaotica thought she was. "Now that's what I'm talking about!"

"He's not coming."

"Not yet he isn't." Chaotica chirped. "That's your job—"

Anomie stood up and motioned to Chaotica to stop. Chaotica mimicked her back only for Anomie to return the gesture with a stoic expression that she was done playing games.

Chaotica lowered her hands, silently. Oh. Anomie was being serious.

Anomie sensed there was something off. "Psyche, are you okay?"

Psyche didn't have the strength to turn around and face them, fearing she was going to start crying if she did. "I think I'm going to cry."

Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. Hands burrowed in her face. Sniffling.

Anomie and Chaotica instantly forgot about cake and squabbling and went to their sister's aid. They huddled beside her and wrapped their arms around the crying bride.

"You don't have to choose anything I've picked out for you. It doesn't matter anyway." Chaotica dabbed at Psyche's tears with lingerie. "Here, blow your nose, it's really just expensive tissue paper." She noticed a small piece of paper on Psyche's back and plucked it off.

Psyche wiped away her tears with the lingerie. "Illumi…he…"

Anger burned in Anomie's eyes. "What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?"

Psyche swallowed and breathed, and told them everything that happened after Illumi left the wedding reception.

Chaotica stood up in a rage of fury. How dare that Zoldyck freak make her sister cry! With a twist and a click, the bracelet on her wrist transformed into a knife. "That's it! HIS YAHOO IS COMING OFF."

Psyche reached out to stop her, "he's halfway across the ocean by now."

"Yeah. HE BETTER RUN."

Just as Chaotica was about to leave the room, Calypsa entered. With an equally alarming expression of her own. She surveyed the room. She had one daughter in tears, one consumed by fire, and another ready to commit first degree murder. Ah, it was as if they never left home.

Calypsa closed the door behind her and locked it, as if that could prevent any outsiders' ears from eavesdropping. She dramatically fell onto the settee and rasped, fanning herself with her hat. She felt as if she was about to die. "I'm going to die."

Miracles do happen.

"Water." Calypsa rasped. "I need water."

Anomie poured her a glass to which Calypsa drank greedily. "More good news, I hope."

"That no good bitc—," Calypsa bit down on her own lips, then muttered softly and gripped the air in front of her. Imagining squeezing someone's throat. She already had someone in mind. "Kikyo is my friend, don't get me wrong I love her so, but sometimes I just want to ring her neck and watch her snap. She," Calypsa cackled under her breath, "she drank a few too many glasses of chardonnay because fuck it, your son is getting married. All is bliss in the House of Zoldyck. All is bliss." Calypsa looked like she was going to snap herself. "Then goes another glass because today is a day of exceptions. And she goes on about Illumi. How proud she is of him, so good, so obedient, and so all the same crap. Then Milluki. Then Kalluto. Sweet boys. Sweet sons. She couldn't have been more blessed with better sons. But who are we missing? Yes, Killua. That's right. Tears. Streaming down face and for a moment I thought her visor was going to short circuit and explode. SHE WOULD HAVE DONE ME A KINDNESS, but there I'm sitting extending my warmth and tenderness to her and I'm thinking to myself, Oh no, what else has he done? What other monstrosities has little Killua committed against his family?"

Psyche knew where this was going.

"She," Calypsa prevented herself from laughing hysterically. Anomie poured Calypsa another glass of water. "Thank you, Ann. As I was saying. She is crying tears of JOY. OF JOY! WHY WOULD SHE BE DOING THAT? Killua slashed everybody, ran away from home conveniently while my daughter was about to get married! It must have slipped out of Kikyo's mouth because of all the chardonnay," Calypsa said with a flourish. "Killua is the —"

"Zoldyck heir." Psyche finished her mother's sentence for her. Anomie and Chaotica turned towards Psyche, confused.

"You already know!" Calypsa couldn't stop laughing. "I never mistook her to joke about something like this."

Chaotica's jaw dropped. Killua cut up his mom and brother and they rewarded him by making him the heir…bravo. He was now her favorite Zoldyck.

"No, she wasn't joking." Psyche squeezed her eyes shut to wipe away her tears. "It's, uh...the truth."

Calypsa dropped the glass of water and it crashed on the wooden floor. She didn't react to it. She just stared at Psyche as if her daughter sprouted another head.

Anomie turned to Psyche. "Are you certain this is true?"

"Illumi told me himself."

Calypsa was seeing stars and she couldn't balance herself.

"When?" Anomie asked.

"Last night. In the kitchen."

"In the kitchen?"

"I was hungry, so I went to get a snack. And he happened to be there, so."

Calypsa held out her hand for one of her daughter's to grab it, just so she could feel something real. Anomie did. "No. You must have misheard him. It has to be a mistake."

"He was really clear about it." Psyche bit the inside of her cheek. Illumi seemed surprised that she didn't know about it.

"Ah. He must share his mother's strange sense of humor."

Psyche shook her head. "He was very…serious. He did express a lot of concern over Killua running away."

Calypsa changed the subject, she couldn't bear to listen to it any longer. "Your sisters and I will be leaving the Mountain. It isn't customary for us to stay any longer, especially on your wedding night—" Anomie whispered to her and Calypsa's eyes widened in shock. "HE LEFT!?" She turned to Psyche. "PSYCHE. WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Nothing—why are you getting angry at me?"

"Nothing. So you did nothing. Your husband leaves and you do nothing. Perfect. Why didn't you convince him to stay?" Calypsa pressed on. Voice rising.

"No, you're misunderstanding me. I didn't do 'nothing.' When he got up during Kalluto's performance, I went after him to go talk to him—"

"I saw you go after him much, much later when Kalluto was done performing. You shouldn't have waited so long. You know what you lost? Time. Enough time in which you could have convinced him to stay." Calypsa yelled.

"I didn't want to be rude!" Psyche yelled back.

Calypsa rolled her eyes.

"Mom. I tried talking to him."

"Then why isn't he here?"

Why didn't you try harder? You're already a failure as a wife! Her mom was practically screaming it at her. Psyche's voice was rising. "It didn't matter what I did or didn't say to him, Illumi was going to leave regardless. The hunter exam date isn't negotiable and he needs a license for work. There was nothing I could do to stop him." He said so himself.

Calypsa nodded, smugly. "Ok. Did he tell you that last night too? Or did you forget after you let him fuck you?"

The room went stone cold silent after Calypsa said that. Psyche's eyes began to burn all over again. She turned her head away from her mom and focused her attention looking for something to pick up the broken pieces of glass on the wooden floor. And for something to soak up the water.

"Get out." Psyche's voice was low and cold. "I'm a Zoldyck and this is my House. Get out." She thought once she said those words they would make her feel powerful, but still her mother loomed over her like a shadow. Shrouding her in a freezing cold impermeable to fire.

Calypsa stepped on a piece of glass, shattering it into smaller pieces. "Very well. Though take care to remember, Psyche. That name only gives you power if he wills it."

Psyche couldn't look up at her mom as she walked out of her room. Chaotica and Anomie looked back in silent pity and horror, following behind Calypsa just as she commanded them to.

When they left, Psyche picked up a shard of broken glass and saw her reflection. Did she really look that pathetic? She gripped the shard and watched blood pool in her palm, then threw the glass against the wall and screamed.

Kalluto tsked as his paper doll of Psyche fell silent. She must have noticed the confetti he placed on her sometime during the reception and discarded it. It was foolish of him to underestimate her. Though, not entirely. If she, of all people, noticed his confetti then he must have been sloppy. Given this abrupt wedding and Killua's hasty departure combined together, Kalluto's mind wasn't focused as it should be. His skills have dulled when a sickly wind of trouble blew in along with the Moiraio Family. He knows this. If he can't overcome a few obstacles stacked together like these then how is he to progress further in his training? He's already falling behind Killua. If Kalluto can't catch up then how is he supposed to bring Killua back home?

Kalluto took a deep breath in. Calming his thoughts.

His surveillance of Psyche only proved to justify the assumptions he made of the assassin the moment she stepped foot on their mountain. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to make out the entirety of Psyche's conversation with her sisters. But one thing was for certain.

Psyche was weak. While the other two were vulgar and foul-mouthed.

Psyche would only serve as a detriment to Illumi. Kalluto rarely disagreed with his mother, but she made a grave mistake. If no one could see that then it was his duty to amend it before the damage became permanent.

There was one more thing that pestered him…

What the heck is a yahoo?

Araminta cried out when Theodore picked her up in his arms and carried her to his bed—their bed. She loved how delicious those two words, now forever stitched together, leapt off her tongue. It was precisely in that moment when the moon was high and the candles lit the room as far as their light could reach that he was always meant to hold her this way. Perhaps she was born to live in this exact moment. To find her one true love and have him carry her home under soft, golden candlelight. She placed her hands tenderly behind his head, curling his auburn locks within her hands. She longingly gazed into his shimmering eyes that glistened with a love purer than Poseidon's primordial waves, and those lips—oh his lips—lips that could cast a spell on her soul and enchant her into a land of dreams made real. Theodore Sturn was a powerful man and his love bewitched her. He was hers and she was his. Everlastingly.

Theodore laid her gently on their bed and kissed her softly. Restraining himself from consuming her with ravenous gluttony—a night where gluttony was encouraged and sought after. Withstanding the temptation to regress to primal impulses and tear away at her night shift and leave her with nothing only for him to admire her naked form lying on their bed. It was their wedding night, and it was his duty as her husband to have her writhe in the sheets until she could do nothing but scream out his name and hold him tight as he savored every last morsel of her that she would drip for him. Slowly and selfishly. Araminta was light—a glorious star that guided him back home. No. She was his home now. And he would bound himself in the place he truly belonged.

He kissed her once more and smiled when he saw how much she adored it. He breathed, "It's just you and me."

"And me." Psyche deadpanned as she flipped the page of her book with her bandaged hand. She was sitting alone in her room. Without pleasant company or a husband to share the night with.

She scoured through a quarter of the book in a day just to make it to the wedding scene (nothing could get Psyche out of a reading slump better than a Captain Theodore Sturn strip tease—how she yearned to be his first mate and steer his ship), but she couldn't stomach to read any further. Normally, this is what Psyche lives for when reading The Captain and I. Along with character development and world building, of course…She reopened the book to the wedding night chapter and flipped through and counted the pages—and her eyes widened. That was a whole lot of pages. And there was little dialogue and very chunky paragraphs. Her favorite combination. That spelled the perfect recipe for an excellent read uninterrupted. But all she could do was glance at the words and feel far detached from the story. She mindlessly flipped through the pages again, maybe the chapter would appear smaller if she flipped through it quicker, and caught a few tantalizing words. Araminta gripped the bed's banister—Theodore plunged forward without restraint—they drowned in an ecstasy of— Psyche shut the book before she spoiled herself anymore. She mumbled a disgruntled whine, as she leaned back in her chair, "at least one of us is happy." Psyche wasn't one to call another girl a bitch, but tonight was an exception.

Araminta was one lucky bitch.

Psyche's thoughts couldn't help but drift to Illumi and wondering how his trip to Dolle Harbor was carrying on. What was he doing? What was he thinking of? Was he thinking of her just as much—or more—as she was thinking of him? But given the way he departed from Kukuroo Mountain in a hurry and his callous goodbye, perhaps only the exam was consuming his mind.

The Hunter Exam was one lucky bitch.

She folded her arms on the vanity and slammed her head down into them. So this is what she has reduced herself down to? Being jealous of an exam? What the hell even is the hunter exam anyway? She pulled out her laptop and began feverishly googling this elusive test, but the results left little relief to settle her mind and only opened more tabs that led to more questions. When it finally seemed like she was getting answers, the webpages denied her access. Only a hunter could access restricted information.

Restricted information? This was the internet, everything was supposed to be damn free. She went to the Hunter Association webpage and found a link to an exam application (the deadline to apply passed in December, so the application page was locked)—to which would be mailed to eager applicants and from there they would be given the location, not of the testing center, but of the transportation service that would take them close—or heck maybe it was nowhere near at all—to the testing center that supposedly changed every year. Because why not only make it entirely inconceivable, but also make grown men cry. And this wasn't even registration. You register for the exam when you arrive at the testing center. If you manage to get there at all.

Psyche was convinced the Hunter Association didn't want anyone to take the exam at all considering how impossible it was to actually get there. Logistically, it was a weeding out process. Not everyone who wants to be a hunter has noble intentions in mind–not that she wished to use her husband as an example to prove it, there are definitely worse people who would gladly use and abuse the merits and privileges of a hunter license, like, to commit crime and kill—that is exactly why her husband needs it. Fuck. He proved a statistic.

Well, he needs it for work and that sounds less….nefarious?

There was a knock at her door.

She closed her laptop and her heart thrummed alive–renewed. She looked herself over in her mirror and quickly combed through her hair and flattened the creases in her dress. She looks gorgeous and not at like she was beginning to cry. Again.

Yes. yes. Yes! Illumi has finally realized that his first night with his wife is more important than a stupid gate-keeping exam! He must have felt bad for leaving her alone, and him being shoved in a cramped boat with a bunch of gnarly and repugnant men must have made him see the error of his ways! She said a quick and silent prayer thanking all the men that repulsed her husband to the point of making him abandon ship. Fairy godmothers really do come in all shapes and sizes.

Psyche practically ran to the door, slipping on the wooden tiles as she grabbed onto the door handle, and prepared how Illumi would see her. She stopped. Closed her eyes. Breathed. And exhaled. She decided that she was going to look unbothered by his absence and have him beg for her to forgive him. Stretch it out a bit, and then naturally give it to him the second, third, fourth time he asks. Depending upon how generous she was feeling. Psyche was a very forgiving girl. Yes, that would be most excellent.

She couldn't help but smile as she opened the door. Maybe she didn't need him to beg for her forgiveness after all. Having him tell her he loves her is enough—

The thought of devouring a bowl of strawberry ice cream drizzled in chocolate syrup, sprinkled with broken up pieces of brownies, and lathered in a heavy dose of self loathing while watching The Princess Diaries crossed her mind. Her stress level was on the level of princess Mia driving the Stang. Downhill. Accelerating toward the trolley with broken brakes. Not even Paolo and his bowl of self-care cucumber slices, that do nothing, could fix this train wreck.

"I know. I am exactly the person you wanted to see." Zeno said. Along with his wife, Zifira, who was standing right beside him.

"Might we come in, dear." Zifira said as she walked right into the room before Psyche could answer. Zeno followed.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." Psyche hurriedly pushed aside cardboard boxes and made room for both of them to sit on the settee. "I'm sorry, I haven't finished unpacking yet, so it's still cluttered."

"Not at all. There are still boxes I haven't unpacked from when I first arrived at the Mountain. I'll get to them one of these days."

Zeno turned to his wife. "You've been saying that for years. Would it kill you to at least try, it would be fun. No?"

"Then you can help me."

"We don't want to have too much fun."

Zifira's laugh was contagious. Even Zeno couldn't help but laugh when she did. A smile cracked his cold exterior and melted away because of Zifira's warmth. They were such a cute old couple! Psyche hoped this is what she and Illumi will grow into. Loving each other until the end of their days surrounded by dozens of children and grandchildren.

Zifira eyed the stacks of books piled on the ground. "You have so many books!"

"Yes! I love to read."

"What do you like to read?"

Psyche panicked. She didn't know how to answer that question. And so she smiled and nodded her head and laughed even when there was nothing funny to laugh about. An obvious sign of girls who have something to hide. "A little bit of everything." Everything was safe. Everything was neutral. Everything didn't single out 18th century sea captains rescuing you from rampaging ocean storms and ripping off your corset because you 'couldn't breathe.'

Zifira nodded, "I enjoy reading myself. Perhaps you can recommend a book for me and we could talk about it together." Zifira narrowed her eyes towards her husband. "I tell him to read a book and he never does."

Zeno defended himself. "That's not true. I always read the books you recommend to me."

"You read the titles and then fill in the gaps."

"One title speaks a thousand words."

"You'll find those 'a thousand words' and more inside. You just have to open it up."

"You describe them so well it feels as if I have already read them. I much prefer listening to you. But you want to know where they are also?"

"Where?"

Zeno put a hand over his chest. "My heart. Because you put them there."

"Bull."

"Louder."

Zifira shoulder bumped him and he kissed her cheek when she did and Psyche swore that she was going to die from them being so adorable. IT WAS SO CUTE SEEING AN OLD COUPLE BEING IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. SHE WANTED THAT IN HER FUTURE!

Zifira turned to her newest granddaughter. "Illu will have to take you on a private tour of our library, we have hundreds, thousands of books that span time and history. And not to mention the archives. We have stairs that resemble the ones in that wizarding story about the orphaned boy, oh yes, Harry Potter. They look exactly like them."

A look in Zeno's eyes seemed to say, 'no, they don't. Not even close.'

Psyche internally squealed. "I think I would like that very much." Psyche began to pull up a chair until Zifira waved her hand and beckoned Psyche to sit on the settee with them. She went to squeeze in at the end until Zifira moved away from Zeno and created a space in between them. She patted the space, happily.

Psyche sat in between her grandfather and grandmother. A moment of silence passed and then another. Psyche flicked a piece of non-existing debris off her dress and smoothed out an imaginary crease.

This was fine.

Zeno was the first to break the silence. He did so with an aggravated huff which startled Psyche. "So Illumi has gone off to take the hunter exam. Foolish decision if you ask me."

Psyche blinked. A part of her was ready to agree with him, but she wasn't sure if criticizing his eldest grandchild right in front of him was the wisest decision to make, so instead she half lied and half told the truth. "Truthfully, I wish the exam didn't occur on our wedding day, but it couldn't be helped. Though, I know for a fact he'll pass the exam and come back home with a hunter license. I have complete faith in his abil—"

Zeno and Zefira looked at each other and their eyes exchanged a silent message, a crafty language practiced over the years they've spent together.

And began their siege.

"What a pleasure it is to be so sure of each other. Dreams are never out of reach when you are so young and optimistic." Zeno sighed, dramatically.

Zifira wholeheartedly nodded in agreement, "Oh yes, hope is hard to extinguish especially when you are deeply in love."

Zeno's mouth popped open, as if he just remembered something crucially important. "Did you hear that the estimated passing rate is only 0.5% for the hunter exam this year?"

"That's lower than last year! I didn't imagine it could sink that low." Zifira put a hand over her mouth, concealing her astonishment. "It does make sense, considering only 1 in 10,000 actually make it to the exam site."

"And that doesn't even include rookies." Zeno accentuated. "It's much, much lower."

"Rookies?" Psyche asked.

Zifira leaned in towards her granddaughter. "First time test takers. Men and women with impeccable drive and ambition fueling their hopes and dreams of becoming hunters—and then there is our Illumi—having no idea of the crushing hurdles they are about to face. Some never recover from the blow of having their dreams, and various organs and limbs, destroyed. Illu should be fine though."

Psyche's brows furrowed and she piped out a soft little, "really?" The first chip of her armor began to crack and both Zeno and Zifira brought pickaxes.

"Exceedingly low." Zeno corrected himself. "And don't get me started on the mortality rate!"

Psyche blinked. "The what now."

Zifira waved her wrist, 'what is the point of calculating it when the majority of those poor, unfortunate applicants won't even make it past the second phase, let alone first. Ah! It baffles me that they already have—how many phases are in the exam again?"

Zeno shook his head. "Honestly, it is never enough for Netero. It could go on and on and on." He looked Psyche dead center in the eyes, "AND ON."

Psyche leaned back, slightly. "...and on."

"Indefinitely." Zeno added with a gruff voice.

"At least the applicants sign the—" Zefira stopped mid sentence when she saw the stoic and cold look on Zeno's face. It told her everything. She barely got the words out of her mouth. Her voice was a mere wobble as if what she was about to say was going to fracture the very air around them. "They got rid of the waivers too?"

"Too expensive." Zeno, deadpanned. "They're cutting back. No funds. No waivers. It can't be helped."

"That's a real shame."

"It really is." Zeno agreed.

"But not a problem for our Illu."

"No problem at all. Zoldycks don't need to sign waivers."

"They still use trackers, I believe. Just in case they need to find the bodies, I mean, applicants."

"Yes, but it's hard to find a body where you can't even reach it. Last year, one phase took place over the entire circumference of a dessert plagued with pelting sandstorms and filled with wild, starving coyotes and snakes and what are those animals that burrow in the sand dunes— "

"The ones with jaws that could crush stone, and easily the bones of men?"

"Like sticks?"

"Like toothpicks." Zifira clarified.

"No no. Those are not nearly as dangerous as the ones I'm referring to. I'm talking about the ones with long, spindly arms with claws so sharp they only have to lie in wait to snatch their prey, piece by piece, and follow them as they bleed out turning the golden sand dunes red."

"They follow the scent of blood, and fear."

"Yes! Precisely! But what are they called?"

Psyche felt as if she was going to faint. Her eyes were vacant, her mouth was dry, and all the life was sucked out of her when she said, "blood hoppers." Which was barely more than a whisper. She watched a nature documentary about them once. She got a close up view of its hideous face littered with razor sharp teeth when it lunged at a camera-man.

"Yes, yes. Blood Hoppers." Zeno clapped his hands together in astonishment and Psyche nearly fell unconscious from envisioning Illumi being snatched by a hopper and dragged beneath the sand dunes. "Those are absolutely horrifying creatures. They found the bodies, well, what was left by those insidious creatures at least. Nasty things."

"And an even more horrifying way to go." Zifira paused. "But they never hold the exam in the same place twice, so Illu doesn't have to worry about Blood Hoppers."

"Illumi could easily handle a few blood hoppers, but then there is the matter of the Milsy Wetlands…" Zeno turned silent.

WHY DID HE TURN SILENT!? THIS WAS NO TIME TO BE GOING SILENT. Psyche turned towards Zeno. "Grandfather…"

"Yes, my sweet child."

"What is in the Milsy Wetlands?"

"She doesn't want to hear about it." Zifira patted Psyche's shoulder sweetly. "It'll give anyone nightmares."

Zeno hummed. "I might have to agree. You don't want to hear about it, Psyche. I don't want to be the cause of giving my granddaughter unease on her wedding night."

"But I do..I really do!" Psyche was on the edge of her seat as she looked between both elderly assassins. Expectantly waiting for them to tell her what was in the Milsy Wetlands that could shred her husband limb from limb.

Zeno and Zifira both shared a knowing look with each other. Zeno took out what looked to be a phone from his pocket. It was a tracker. Especially used to indicate the whereabouts of all members of the Zoldyck family. It tapped into their phones and pinned their locations on the black screen for all of them to see. Several dots were clustered together on the Mountain, while another was farther away. Somewhere in the ocean. A grandparent could never be too careful when it comes to the safety of his family. Homeland security has nothing on him. "It looks like Illumi is still sailing—"

Zifira leaned over Psyche to get a closer look. "Why is the dot not moving?"

"It's old, like me, and has seen better days. Either it's buffering or Illumi, and along with the ship, have sunk to the bottom of the ocean. We'll know soon enough."

Psyche's complexion turned ghostly pale.

Zeno took note of her reaction. "Apparently, Kukan'yu is experiencing yet another monsoon."

"When do they not have monsoons!" Zifira laughed.

Psyche's heart felt like it was sinking to the bottom of the ocean too. Then the dot moved forward and a weight instantly lifted off her heart and rose her towards the surface. Her eyes glimmered at the screen, "it's moving again!"

"That is good news indeed! Will you do your grandfather a favor and hold onto it for me? My heart shudders to a break everytime I see his dot still."

Psyche slowly gripped the tracker in her hands. "It's no problem at all."

"It warms my heart, truly it does, to know that you have so much faith, trust, and unadulterated confidence in Illumi during this intense period of his life while he has ventured away from home to take the hunter exam—whose life could end at any moment because of the extremely disastrous circumstances—but you refuse to get bogged down by the danger, blood hoppers, and lack of waivers. You believe he is strong enough despite the dangerous and impossible odds he is going to face. Alone. All by himself. No allies. No friends. No family. No pleasant company to keep his spirit going strong. When he is shivering at night his only solace is the comfort of his dear wife keeping him in her thoughts and prayers. That will give him warmth, if he doesn't die of frostbite first."

Psyche steadied herself on the settee. Was this what it felt like to have an aneurysm? She could feel her heart thrashing around in her throat.

Their job here was done.

"Up we go. Goodnight, Psyche." Zeno groaned as he stood up. "Perhaps tomorrow you can inform us of Illumi's status. Dead. Alive. MIA. Stabbed. Eaten. Drowned."

"Blown up. Torched. Incinerated. Remember when they had one phase over a volcano."

"How could I not?" Zeno smiled fondly. There were so many casualties. "I wonder how the committee will outdo themselves this year."

"In the morning, I'll have the butlers bring us tea and snacks and we'll make an event out of it." Zifira kissed Psyche on her forehead. "Sleep well, my darling."

The crushing fear of becoming a widow kept Psyche up all night. It was then, when the moon was high and the stars lined the midnight sky, Psyche booked a flight to Dolle Harbor in Kukan'yu.

Illumi was right, he will see her soon.

THANK YOU FOR READING CHAPTER 9! Did you like it? I hope the first scene was LIT *coughs* lit because Anomie torched a guy *AHEM* And they stole a hunter license, that'll sure bring them loads of fun :D Who is the mysterious man who wanted to 'test' the Moiraio family? I'll continue the previous chapter's flashbacks in the next chapter because this scene needed to happen. There is no p*rn without plot in this fic, nope! Also i wanted to write another murder. Priorities people, please lol Mama Moiraio was being a total bitch to Psyche, and Zeno and Zifira are all for this arranged marriage XD Sooooo, i hoped you liked the chapter, lemme know what you thought :"D Psyche is heading towards the hunter exam, yay! Yes, we are following the canon timeline, but i'm going to do things MY WAY *evil laughter* TBH I'm really excited about all the anguish and pain i'll get to write for the fic. It's going to be great! For me and y'all. Not psyche. For her, it'll suck.

There has been silence for the last few chapters and i just want check with y'all if everything's okay regarding the fic? It kind of worries me when i don't get any responses and I really hope that I'm not losing anyone. Reviews really do help!

Thank you for reading and I hoped you liked the chapter! Please review and bye!