I have a few notes to make regarding the chapter. I know "pinpon" means bingo/exactly, but it just sounds so cute and funny when Illumi says it, so in the chapter it's being used out of context. Regarding the flashback scene with Illumi and Killua my goal for the fic is not to write Killua all good and Illumi all evil, or that they never have gotten along, or that Illumi is the ultimate abuser and the reason for everything that has ever gone wrong ever. That is not what this fic is about, but if you've read this far then you already know that, so you're awesome and thank you. I hope I conveyed what I was aiming for because I had to rewrite it all over again. Illumi also has high expectations of Killua and he's very critical of him in this chapter, despite Killua's already high skill level. I tried to write about Killua's emotions regarding him, a child running away from home, but that will be explored more in the next two chapters which will end the hunter exam arc. And yes he's the heir, but he's also 12 XD Please Enjoy the chapter and Merry Christmas!

Chapter 15: Brother (part 1)

The solution to any problem was more bees.

Killua and Ponzu clearly applied to different schools of common sense.

The buzzing was driving Killua insane. He couldn't even swat them away without Ponzu angrily glaring at him, with a menacing gaze that was practically an invitation to death's door. She insisted her bees needed to eat, hence why they were flying around in a frenzy around sliced fruit and Killua's own cooking station. Those bees were flying so close to her head, they looked as if they were whispering into her ears.

It was too late when Killua realized Gon didn't follow him after they captured their pigs in the Forest Preserve. Killua didn't notice until he set his own pig down at a station, a joke springing to his mind that he immediately wanted to tell Gon, until he clamped his mouth shut when he turned behind him to see that Gon wasn't there, but Ponzu and her posse of bees his spatula eagerly wanted to become acquainted with.

Killua looked for Gon, wondering if Gon would soon appear behind Ponzu and ask to switch places so he could cook next to Killua. Killua waited expectantly as if at any moment she would be asked to leave and make way for his friend.

Then Killua saw Gon—with Leorio and Kurapika—striking matches and skewering their pigs on spits over growing flames. Together. Suddenly Killua felt weird for staring at the trio while they were focused on cooking, then laughing as Leorio leaned over his pig bragging that maybe he would be generous enough to at least give them a whiff of his winning meal—only to ignite the bottom of his tie on fire and proceeded to yelp all throughout rolling on the floor. Kurapika held a hand over his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter at Leorio's expense.

Leorio barked at the blonde. "You're not even trying to hide it!"

Kurapika saw that the bottom of Leorio's tie was completely gone, and vowed to swallow the last bit of laughter inside him, until Leorio opened his suitcase and rolled out a perfect, new, pristine tie. This made Kurapika burst into cackles. Relentless cackles with tears springing at the corners of his eyes.

Leorio flicked his tie in the air with a magnificent swoosh and adjusted it perfectly under his chin. "I'm a joke to all of you."

"Yeah!" Gon chirped with an innocent smile.

Kurapika was now the one on the floor, laughing into the pantry with one hand held up to Leorio as if telling him to stop making him laugh.

Killua wanted to be a part of that. Whatever that was. Of the joke, laughing at Leorio's expense, undoubtedly more to come too. He didn't want to be here. They didn't seem bothered by Killua's absence as much as Killua did by theirs. Any moment now Gon was going to spot Killua and wave him over—but that never came. And Killua was too embarrassed to abruptly leave his station to join theirs since the second phase officially began and people were already cooking. Even Ponzu beside him was far ahead, poking the burning red coals under her pig and cautiously throwing handfuls of gangly herbs into the fire, hoping the aroma would infuse itself with her roast.

Wait. Did Gon actually consider him a friend? What about the other two? Maybe Killua made a grave mistake in the swamp, maybe he should have joined Gon to save Leorio and Kurapika instead of persuading Gon to abandon them—

There. That was the ugly truth Gon realized faster than Killua did. Killua told Gon to abandon his friends. Normal people don't leave their friends in a swamp to die (Killua guessed.) Gon didn't think like Killua, Gon wasn't like Killua—that's not how real friends think—and the reason Gon didn't follow Killua or bothered to look for him through the crowd and rings of smoke was because he didn't consider Killua a friend. Maybe Gon did in the beginning, but definitely not anymore. Gon probably told Kurapika and Leorio that Killua wanted to leave them, so that's why they weren't looking for him either. They didn't forget about Killua's presence, in fact they were aware of it—

They were ignoring Killua. Choosing cooking stations far away from him and pretending he didn't exist.

Killua pretended the same and focused his attention back on the pig. Skewering it and raising it over the flames just as everyone around him was doing. Killua chastised himself for not listening to the examiner's instructions, but he reasoned it was a safe bet to roast the pig like everyone else was doing—against better judgment he snuck a peek at Gon whose focus was solely on roasting his pig. Stop looking, stop being weird. Killua turned back around.

Killua stared into the fire and it made him think of a story told by someone he ought to forget. He squeezed his eyes, forcing the pages to stay shut, but it was too late. The book opened, the pages turned, and it commenced with the beginning of the end to his life in Kukuroo Mountain.

Killua shouldn't have been surprised it was Illumi who brought him there.

The gray sky hung low and collapsed like a heavy mourning shroud over Kukuroo Mountain. Threads of wispy smoke entwined through bristles and branches of pine and oak and looked as if ghostly specters were spinning lace with skeleton hands into an intricate pattern of sorrow and woe over their forest.

Killua wasn't afraid of ghostly specters or make-believe monsters, yet his heart quickened with each step that grew louder heading in his direction. His body was visibly shaking now. His breath plumed out white clouds from his quivering lips. Run… Run into the fog. Hide and never come back. Killua curled his fingers into the ground—that was all he could do before his older brother emerged from the fog with a grimacing scowl fresh on his face. Illumi was disappointed. "Is that it?" Is that all you're capable of? He meant to say.

Killua was terrified. Struggling to get back on his feet and straining against every fiber in his body that screamed to stay still—Illumi tched. That was enough of a blow to make Killua lose his strength and crumble into the cold earth like a tunnel caving in.

"Get up. We're not finished." Illumi's voice pierced Killua through his core.

"I'm tired, cold, and a little pissed off…I just wanted to throw that last one in there." Killua retorted, muscles straining to lift himself up.

"That makes two of us." Illumi stepped forward.

"Stay away!" From me. Killua caught his own voice and bit down on his lips. Cursing himself for sounding scared and weak…because he was. And then there was Illumi who wasn't afraid of anything and impossibly strong. Every blow felt like a taunt. Every strike felt like a mockery of everything Killua was. Killua was a Zoldyck, but he was so much more—He was the heir. That made him more than anything Illumi will ever amount to, and yet…it couldn't be further from the truth. Killua hated that sickening gap between them. Widening day by day. When Killua tirelessly trained, Illumi soared to excellence. When Killua painstakingly studied his disciplines, Illumi effortlessly mastered them. When Killua failed to follow the code of an assassin, Illumi upheld it with ease and pride. Each brother stood on either side of a chasm, with Killua tottering over the edge impatiently waiting for that distance to shorten.

Killua fumbles—Illumi corrects.

Killua is uncertain—Illumi is decisive.

Killua falls—Illumi gets back up.

Fuck…fuck it all!

"I told you. I'm done. I'm done training for today!" Killua spat out, sweat drenched against his skin, not caring if he had a deranged look in his eyes. He scowled back at Illumi as if he was just a cub that learned to finally bite back and growl. He expected to see a look of sympathy in his big brother's eyes, for once to relent and give in, but Illumi's expression did not change. Stoic. Unnerving. He was raised to be stone and stones do not budge.

Not even for little brothers.

"Who gave you the authority to decide when it was time to quit?" Illumi's eyes narrowed. He was fed up with Killua's complaining, which was becoming increasingly frequent these last few months. Something was wrong. Illumi didn't know where to pinpoint the source. "You never used to complain this much. What has changed—what has sparked this sudden lack of drive? Of commitment?"

Killua stared at the ground. "Why? What I say isn't going to make a difference anyway."

"Killua, I'm listening. I'm here. Please, tell me."

Killua looked up. "You want honesty?"

Illumi hummed. "Of course."

Killua groaned. "I mean. I don't want to be that person to tell you this, but somebody has to."

"You already are that person. So. Get on with it already."

Killua abruptly sat up and criss-crossed his legs, pointing an accusatory finger at Illumi while yelling. "You're being a complete ass!"

"God forbid I'd do anything half assed in life." Illumi sighed as he put his hands on his hips, annoyed.

"You know what I mean!"

"This again?"

"Yeah THIS AGAIN! You always talk over me like you know my thoughts better than I do!"

"It's called being your big brother."

"It's called being an ass! And I can speak, think, and feel for myself!"

"Good for you. Now, I assume you'll be getting around to making your point eventually, so get on with it." Illumi briskly clapped his hands twice at Killua like he was a little dog commanded to perform a trick.

Killua was fuming. "YOU."

"Me."

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN—"

"Shutting up and listening. Say no more. Done and done. This is very easy actually. I should do this more often. There is nothing better than to shut up and listen, hm, shut up and listen. Oh, that was the name of a tv show, or was it a radio show? It could have been a show within a show. What do you think, Kil? Shut up and listen, does it ring a bell?" Illumi prattled on and on.

"SH! SH! SHHHH! I TALK. YOU LISTEN. IT DOESN'T EVEN BEGIN TO SCRATCH THE SURFACE!" Killua was 12 and spoke in two volumes only: mumbling whispers and ear splitting yells.

Illumi sighed. "You've made a list all about me? My joy is unbounded."

"Not to mention you're sarcastic as hell. Just talk to me normally like a human being!"

"Get in line."

"Working excessive hours isn't the major flex you think it is. Mom doesn't say it to your face, but she thinks you're going to drop dead from exhaustion one of these days."

"You don't like that I…work too hard?" Illumi stifled a laugh. In this family one is criticized if they work too little, and now if they work too much. "My bank account disagrees, but okay. Next."

"And you think everyone around you is weak–including me!"

"This argument certainly is." Illumi wasn't born to this life to dispute fact from fiction. "I never said you were weak. You're on track. You're doing well. You're a good assassin now—but imagine how great you'll be in the future. Me going easy on you is a disservice of your time and potential, nor will it help you achieve your greatest self. I shouldn't have to repeat what you already know."

Killua didn't stop there. "You think I'm stupid."

Illumi was silent.

Killua's face turned red. 'I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT WAS TRUE!"

Illumi turned his head down, with a hand covering his face. Cackling. Killua is so adorable when he gets angry.

"STOP LAUGHING AND LISTEN TO ME!" Killua thrashed his arms around. Instead of a mountain cub, he looked like a kitten throwing a temper tantrum. "I DEMAND RESPECT!" Illumi totally lost it. Now he couldn't stand up straight, heaving with his hands on his knees, ready to burst a lung. "And it isn't a disservice to anyone's time but yours."

Illumi stopped laughing. "How so?"

"How so? OBVIOUSLY, you're getting married!" Killua screeched.

"A little louder next time, I don't think the entire Mountain heard you." Illumi said sarcastically then pointed an accusatory finger right back at Killua. Now he knows what it feels like. "And just so. Me getting married doesn't give you a free pass to go on vacation. Oh, don't look so devastated. Whatever happenings going on in my life shouldn't affect yours, nor should your training regimen slack, or worse, suffer because of it. Consider yourself grateful—"

"Hey, Illumi. Ask me what I dreamed about last night."

Illumi started again. "I said, consider yourself–"

"Hey, hey, hey, Illumi. Ask me what I dreamed about–"

Illumi popped a blood vessel. He breathed in heavily and then exhaled. "What did you dream about last night, Killua?"

Killua thought Illumi would never ask! "I dreamt that I led an angry mob and then we stormed this huge white castle and then a volcano erupted inside, but before that I bought blue licorice at their gift shop and it was really good, okay now back to the volcano, it exploded in their basement next to the broom closet, that's very important, because now there's lava EVERYWHERE, and a lot of people in my mob died, but it was okay because it was lots of fun and I was rescued by the universe—there was a truck, parked outside the castle, called The Universe, and they used the brooms to sweep the lava back in the volcano and now I know what not to lick in the wild. The end."

"...It's a shame I almost didn't ask, Kil." Illumi was tasked with training the 12 year old heir who currently had one brain cell that wasn't entirely there all the time. "I convinced Father to delay your debut into the bureau by a year's time—which given your attitude isn't close to enough time as I would have liked—where you'll encounter, not volcanic eruptions, but assassins with power the likes of which you've never seen before. Compared to what you'll soon experience, you're practically play-acting with me." Illumi said, then gasped. "Killua, are you trying to tell me the reason you're so grumpy is because you assume I won't have time for you once I'm married and you'll miss me terribly?"

Killua looked aghast, what world was Illumi living in? "Alot of those words don't belong in the same sentence together…"

Illumi wasn't listening. "Psyche will live here for the time being, nor will much change after I'm married. So have no fear, I'll train you as I normally do, and life will go on as it usually does."

Killua raised an eyebrow. For the time being? Where was Psyche supposed to go for the rest of time then? Whatever, it's not Killua's problem. "No, you're not getting it at all! Why are you spending your time training me when you should be doing other, um, really important wedding things like seating arrangements, coordinating bouquets of flowers, dinner rehearsals, and what else, oh!" Killua snapped his fingers. "Spoons–"

"Spoons?"

"There's so many! Salad. Soup. Coffee. Bouillon. Demitasse. Absinthe. The really fancy ones not to be confused with grapefruit. And! Don't get me started on sporks."

"No one is asking you to."

"Aaaaand let's not forget becoming an entirely different person. Your bride won't mind. In fact, I think it's priority number one. We should start first with your personality, but there's so little time left…oh! Let's get rid of it altogether and make it one blank clean slate."

"Killua, wonderful suggestion, really, but I'm hearing words that have nothing of value in them. It almost sounds like, to me anyway, that you're diverting the conversation away from yourself to get out of training. So, let me steer it back."

Killua slumped his shoulders, whining. Was it that obvious?

"If you have energy to ramble, then you can continue training for just a bit longer. I'll tell you when you can take a break, which will be soon enough." Then Illumi's voice boomed, it was a commanding voice that didn't make anyone question his authority—only to listen and obey. It was a different voice from how he normally speaks—he sounds like Father. Killua stiffened. "Enough time was wasted. Arms back up in a defensive position—a different one this time from the many I've taught you—block me, immobilize me, then strike back. With the intent to kill. You're quick on your feet, but you tend to repeat techniques you're biased towards when you become anxious. What happens when you're in a situation that limits your mobility? Limits your choices? Or when your opponent begins to predict your moves? That's how they catch you off guard. The same even applies for Rhythm Echo, an extension of the Silent Gaits technique. It can be very effective, but the charade is over once you break the cadence of your steps. Now if your attacker is perceptive, watches, and waits… eyes are not as useless as you think they are. They'll notice. You can't just rely on the familiar for every problem that comes your way. You've already mastered the basics, so work on what needs polishing."

"I already know."

"If you know then why must I tell you over, again and again? I'm not the one who needs to be listening here, Killua. You're the heir. Act like it."

Sometimes Killua wondered if his being heir was an elaborate joke made by his family and one day they'll tell him so and laugh in his face. Anger spread through the little boy like wildfire without a desire to be extinguished. Wanting for nothing except to burn everything in sight.

If the chasm between him and Illumi wouldn't shrink then Killua would settle to see Illumi fall instead.

Killua let fury overtake him and let it be his strength. He didn't want to defend. He wanted to attack.

Within the blink of an eye Killua pounced off the ground and disappeared into the fog.

Illumi smiled, so Killua chose to be on offense this time. Interesting. "Good! Use your surroundings to your advantage. Disorient me. Confuse me. Trick me. Use whatever is at your disposal to take advantage over your opponents." The wind howled a piercing cry as Killua charged in every direction, hidden behind the veil of dense fog. Illumi's eyes were rapidly shifting—analyzing. Where was Killua going to attack? Good, Killua was finally acting like the heir again.

Killua was a blur. A phantom flying through the fog as a frenzy of deadly claws swiped at the ground in unpredictable directions. One after another in blazing fury. Relentless. Lethal. Mad. Killua wasn't going to attack him head on? Illumi stepped back and then another, being pushed further back by his little brother's onslaught. Then, it came to Illumi like a storm. Killua was herding Illumi like cattle. Forcing Illumi to move where Killua willed him to go.

Well done.

But where was Killua herding him?

A shadow pounced out of the fog and Illumi was on the defensive this time. He was going to deflect Killua and then—

Illumi sniffed an overwhelming scent of pine.

A tree branch slammed into his face.

Killua reared behind his older brother with dust skidding under his feet. Nails sharpened like knives—he was arm lengths away from ripping Illumi's heart out. There was no going back. He would do exactly as his brother instructed. For only a fraction of a second, time slowed. Illumi was surprised. No, that wasn't the right word at all. Illumi was amazed. And so too was Killua. Killua was going to kill Illumi.

Excellent. The little cub has claws afterall.

It was a nice effort, however…

Illumi bonked Killua over the head. "Pinpon."

Killua wailed, rolling on the ground and holding his hands over his head. "OOW! Why did you do that!? I was about to win!"

"This isn't a game of winners or losers. This is real life where you either live or you die. If it isn't too much trouble, always strive for the former. That's all. Now it's time for your favorite part which I know you so love—your assessment. You started well, and I hoped that was what I was going to see throughout the remainder of your attack to the very end. You used your surroundings to your advantage and maybe would have gotten the best of me if you hadn't grown complacent. Your momentum stayed fairly constant, which was good, however with each strike you grew more frustrated. Each attack became more sloppy, ergo predictable. Just as I previously mentioned before, but I did see effort made. No matter how futile. Also maintain precision even if you have to slow down because speed doesn't always positively correlate to success. In fact, it might just mean you'll fail sooner."

Killua tched, tched, and tched.

Illumi squinted his nose. "What's with all this chirping? You're a boy, not a bird."

"I have a lot of thoughts about birds." Every couple of months Killua starts googling birds and now here he is, pulling out a double sided folded piece of paper out of his turtleneck sweater—which he has been carrying with him since this morning, in case he were to spontaneously think of a bird he hasn't before. To which he's thought of at least fifteen, dinosaurs not included. Killua unscrambled the paper with an aggressive swoosh and looked at Illumi with his most serious expression, as if he was finally able to do the first exciting thing of the day since his training session began. "This is my bird list."

Damn. Not another one. "Put away the list." Illumi feared he just opened a can of worms.

Killua read on. "Parakeet, robin, heron, crow. Eagles, seagulls. Kingfisher, starling, nightingale. Gray shoebills aren't birds, they're muppets. You're telling me you look at a blue jay, a robin, and a crow—those are birds, and then you look at an ostrich—they're both supposed to be birds? But so is a chicken." Killua whipped his head to the direction of a dozen birds tweeting up above his head. "What do you think they're talking about?" He whipped his head back at Illumi. "ME?"

"They stopped when you addressed them, so they were definitely talking about you. I'm going to finish where I left off now. Okay? You can tell me the rest later. Good." It was better for Illumi to hold onto the list for the time being, scanning the double sided paper—that's a lot of birds—then folded it and tucked it away in his back pocket. "I noticed several repetitive time intervals that would have given me the opportunity to counterattack. You weren't thinking. You let emotion dictate your actions until finally," Illumi paused. "You left yourself wide open and defenseless and worse, thought nothing of it. That is a mistake our targets make—not us. If this wasn't practice, if this was real and I wasn't your dear big brother then you'd be dead right now."

Killua growled, gritting his teeth. Upset for the unwarranted criticisms, but mostly for his list being forcefully taken away. He worked all night on it.

"Are you supposed to be a bear now? Do you have a list for that too—actually, I'd like to hear that one." Maybe Illumi was biased, or maybe it will always be a challenge for him to see Killua as anything other than his baby brother. Was it frustration, anger, or both? Maybe Illumi should stop prodding—or maybe he shouldn't. He was entitled to his own fun too.

Killua huffed, cheeks flaming red. "I can kill you right now if I wanted to. Dad would probably congratulate me too." He hoped the words would sting.

They didn't.

"Yes, I'm sure he would." Illumi said, absentmindedly. "Though I thought I made it obvious you haven't the slightest chance."

Killua wasn't listening. He bolted towards Illumi.

"Oh, you're actually going for it. Huh. I wouldn't do that." Illumi grabbed Killua and locked his arm behind his back with one hand. Not enough to harm Killua, just enough to calm him down and wake him up. Killua winced—too hard, Illumi loosened his grip. "Commitment to mastering basic defense strategies will save your life. Do yourself a favor and stop wasting both of our time." With a single push, he flung Killua like a rag doll.

Shit. Sometimes Illumi didn't know his own strength. It was important he'd tone it down with Killua, otherwise it wouldn't be a training session at all.

The force hurtled Killua across the ground, stumbling like a tumbleweed. Killua spat a dried out leaf from his mouth. "I almost had you. In fact, I had you almost-dead. And if I had you almost-dead then that means I can always-dead anyone else."

"Almost doesn't cut it."

"That's not my point. I can kill. Anyone. Better than most assassin's twice my age and more. I'm a professional, practically a veteran. I should be the one giving lessons. But if something unexpected arises and you think I can't handle it, I drop the mission and escape as fast as possible. And if I can't get away then I have you. So, can I go back inside now?"

Illumi squatted down next to and scrutinized his little brother. "Yes, well, you won't always be so lucky to have your big brother fly to your rescue at the drop of a needle. Remember that. So then what. Hmm? What happens when your big brother isn't there to save you? When you're alone, the situation becomes dire and you must choose between the mission or your life. Don't overthink it. Your life is always more important. Remember the 3 D's. Defend, disengage, and dip. But in the event escape is unattainable, get as far away as you can, hide, and wait for me to come get you. I'm not saying you should be a sitting duck either. Review what happened moments ago and what happens when what you're comfortable with doesn't work for you, but works against you. You need to be prepared for a variety of situations that work in your enemy's favor—and you must never let them know they have the upper hand."

Deep down, Killua knew Illumi was right, but was there really that much Killua missed? "I had you fooled for a while."

"As if."

"Pinpon, pinpon, pinpon." Killua muttered, defeated.

Illumi held out his hand and Killua gripped it. Pulling his little brother back onto his feet. Killua soared off the ground, knowing full well the strength to do so didn't fully come from within himself. One moment was all it took to make his stomach turn ice cold.

"You can stand on your own. You're fine." Illumi said, hoping to sound reassuring.

"Don't tell me how I feel." Killua growled. But he was standing on his own now, and though he was not great, he was better than before. But then the stress of the day and all his worries and anxiety came back in full swing. His eyes drooped and he pulled his turtleneck over his nose and eyes and pressed on them firmly, pretending he was going to sneeze or blow his nose instead of trying to prevent tears from forming. No doubt he'll receive another lecture if Illumi sees him crying.

Illumi patted Killua on the shoulder, which only made his little brother jolt and probably one step closer to full blown tears. He…only makes things worse, doesn't he…

The sun was setting and the sky was getting dark. Illumi sighed, turning to go back inside. "I guess now is the perfect time to end today's session. I wouldn't want to be out here when they show up anyway."

Killua spoke muffled words beneath his turtleneck. "They? Whose they?"

Illumi's back was facing Killua now. The corner of his lips quickly curved up into a smile before disappearing into a thin line when he turned around and faced a slightly red-rimmed eyed Killua, careful not to mention a word about it. "The trolls. Who else?"

Killua scoffed, Illumi was just trying to trick him. "I'm too old to believe in fairytale monsters."

Illumi sat down and motioned for Killua to do the same, Killua reluctantly did. "Maybe it's time to start believing again." Illumi told Killua a story, one he was saving for around the bonfire in January. Long ago when the forest was endless without towering stone gates and smoke still rose in great black plumes from the mountaintop, the troll king and his court lived below the mountain. With stone cold hearts and icy bones, the trolls despised the sunlit sky and the warmth of the day–for they knew better. It'd turn them to stone for a year and a day. A year and a day without festivals and music and feasts and dance. The smoke was indication enough of the trolls putting their human servants to work—enchanted to take joy in their grueling tasks as they toiled and slaved over the great ovens that went as far, some said, to the middle of the earth, roasting giant boars and dragons and whales the troll king and his knights killed for his court. There was no greater pleasure for trolls than to hunt and the trolls never stopped, so the humans were always cooking and cleaning with broken nails and singed fingers; they never once stopped smiling. But this is where the story truly begins, a nameless maiden let herself be stolen away from her village, and was swallowed by the earth to tend to the ovens like the humans before her, to turn the coals and tend the fires and spit the slaughtered. Though this maiden was different. Her husband was stolen last winter and she was with child. She devised a plan to set her love free. She brought with her food grown above ground—harvested til plump carrying the light of the fiery sun—upon which humans down below were forbidden to eat as they were allowed to survive only on faerie fruit below the mountain grown in gloom and darkness. Hidden in her apron she broke the food into crumbles, morsels no bigger than pebbles and dropped one each on every servant's tongue. Even the troll king himself knew that the smallest of light could dispel the greatest of darkness. The enchantment was lifted, but all were not free just yet. Altogether, the human servants smothered the flames till the ovens turned cold and the smoke vanished. The trolls grew ravenous, stomping the earth and shaking the mountain, as they bellowed, waiting for their meals never to arrive 'where's our drink, where's our dinner, what has happened to our human sinners?' Knights and gentry and king alike charged into the kitchens, wild and crazed, to witness bounds of servants scared and shivering. One by one the humans cried, 'The giants above sent their hell-hounds to steal the fire! Came in hordes and snuffed out every one! They wish our benevolent masters to wither and starve!' The longer the trolls went without food, the more they grew mad and enraged and fearful. The king sent his army above ground to wage war against the giants and take back their fire, but one by one they turned still and gray under the sun. Petrified to stone for a year and day. While others fled beyond the mountain hiding under fur and feather cloaks. The humans worked fast, taking their kitchen knives and hammers; they shattered the trolls, cut them to bricks, and stacked them around the Mountain into a towering gate. The maiden and her husband lived happily on, protected by the trolls from which they were once enslaved. But every night when the sun sets, the trolls that once escaped climb over the gate and scour the forest to take revenge on the tricksters who drove them away from their home.

"Trolls to this day crave Zoldyck blood." Illumi said, matter of factly.

"Moral of the story, you're not you when you're hungry." Killua leaned back on his arms, refusing to admit he found it entertaining and instead remarked to Illumi that if he hoped to impress Killua he should have added at least one dragon tooting fire out of its butt into the story. Plus, the sun was already down and there were no trolls.

"Non-believers are eaten first."

Killua stuck out his tongue and taunted any nearby trolls to go ahead and try.

The ground shook.

Killua gulped.

Illumi waved his little brother goodbye. "Bye-bye, Killua."

"I know what you're doing, Illumi! HA-HA-HA, JOKES OVER, SO QUIT IT.'

Illumi held his palms open, defensively. He wasn't doing anything at all. "If there are trolls roaming around on our property, then we need troll hunters. Wouldn't we?" He tossed Killua a broken pine branch.

"This is a stick…"

"A sword." Illumi corrected and broke off his own sword from a tree. "Well, yes, technically speaking it's a stick, but that's only if you don't know how to properly use it." Trolls hate anything that grows in sunlight. Freshly chopped wood was as powerful as steel blades to them. "If you're going to be a troll hunter, you'll have to practice first."

Killua rolled the wood around in his hands, pine needles prickling his skin. If Illumi was giving him a free opportunity to whack him with a stick then he'd be crazy not to accept.

En garde.

Branches collided swiftly as arrows and soon the bristling of pine needles transformed into the clashing of metal as both brothers dualed against the other. There were no criticisms or assessments, no rules or training regimens—only laughter, scrapes covering their knuckles, crushed pine cones beneath their feet, and a silent hope that the remainder of the day would last sooner than the arrival of tomorrow.

A giant shadowy figure lingered in the fog, finally cutting through the gray vale with a clawed hand. Grabbing Illumi and pulling him in. Killua yelped in surprise—no, excitement. Troll! Soon a snoot, two coal eyes, and a pair of fluffy ears poked its head through the mist. Panting with its tongue sticking out. Illumi was sitting on its back, scratching Mike's head. Mike jumped up and down, making the earth beneath their feet tremble, sounding like trolls stomping the ground. This earned him a 'good boy, good boy' head scratch from Illumi.

Killua slouched his shoulders. He actually wanted to see a troll…but he was always happy to see Mike. Mike dutifully lowered his head towards Killua. Receiving double the amount of scratches on his snoot and his head. Mike was living his best life.

Killua held Mike's mouth, snugly surrounding sharp teeth and a devil tipped tongue, and flopped the guard dog's jaws up and down while singing, "I don't wanna be a chicken. I don't wanna be a duck. I just wanna be me, quack quack quack quack."

Mike was the Zoldyck Family's ferocious guard dog, but he was also a very peculiar looking duck. (According to Master Killua, at least.)

Illumi chuckled. "Hey, Kil. I'm in the mood for hot chocolate. Want some?"

Killua nuzzled his face in Mike's fur. He was so fluffy and soft. "I WANT! CHOCOLATE! Oh, can you do the thing with your needles and," Killua made a sound mimicking a car engine, or a chain saw, "some candy canes too. It's like peppermint snow."

"Sure."

"Can I read you the rest of my list?"

"Go for it."

Killua memorized the entirety of it. "Finches, falcons, ducks, flamingos, toucans. A blue and yellow macaw. Penguins are cool too, I've seen Happy Feet."

'Turn the coals and tend the fires and spit the slaughtered.'

Killua was living Illumi's damn fairytale and the eeriness of the similarities made Killua's skin crawl. Killua voluntarily fled his village (home), forced to slave over his oven (roast pig) along with the horde of applicants to cook for the trolls (Buhara eats like one and Menchi definitely acts like one.) In order to free himself (pass the exam) and become a hunter thus live happily ever after, but not before breaking a lot of stuff (Killua looked forward to that.) Either it's all a coincidence or Illumi is not just an asshole but a clairvoyant one too.

Killua was initially anxious that Illumi would follow him and drag him home by force but considering that hasn't happened means Illumi being all married and gross now worked in Killua's favor. Killua didn't feel guilty for slashing his mother, stabbing his brother, or ditching lurch's wedding of horrors, because Killua knew in his heart of hearts he'd see them all again. They'll all have a wonderful, happy family reunion when he collects the rewards over their heads to bounty hunters while overlooking his perfectly psychotic family on the law-abiding side of heavily reinforced steel bars. And laughs. And laughs. And laughs. Killua had nothing against Psyche, but he also had nothing against the bounty over her head either. And it surely would have increased upon marrying into his family.

Killua thought he would feel better after running away. He did. Initially. But now he's reeking of roast pig, swatting bees out of his ears, and doesn't not really know what he will be doing after the exam is finished. The answer was simple: anything he damn wants. Freedom was more bigger and daunting than he thought it would be, but was more bolder and brighter than he imagined it ever could. No more training sessions, no more tutors, no more assassinations. No more them.

Good riddance! Killua has no one but himself to think about from now on. No one…

No one to celebrate holidays or birthdays with anymore. No one to sit with him around a bonfire on Padokea's Independence Day at the end of January. No big brother to pour him hot chocolate out of a thermos nor stir in peppermint snow to a little arm quickly jutting out of a bundle of blankets bracing the cold, only to retreat back inside his cozy fortress when his treasure is acquired. Shivering and giggling with frozen fingers and toes next to Kalluto, who was just bundled and warm and cold as he was. Blowing, blowing, and blowing before taking their first sips and sighing contentedly while listening to stories freshly being spun around the crackling fire…Killua thought of the story he wanted to tell this year.

He thought of the ones he wouldn't be hearing.

Why…Why did no one come after Killua? Heck, they practically let him go. Did any of them care that he actually ran away at all? Or were they glad he rid themselves of him? To hell what they think. Killua has no qualms swiping the bounties over all their heads. Screw bonfires. Fuck birthdays. Everyday is cake before breakfast and ice cream before bed. Every night is games and hot chocolate and never ending stories. He'll do nothing but play all day and he'll never feel bad again.

Killua's stomach churned. He squatted down on the ground and pretended to inspect soup ladles in the pantry. He'd be needing exactly none, yet still he scrutinized the applications of each for a recipe that did not require them for this phase of the exam he was undoubtedly going to fail. When he ran away from home he knew exactly why he did, but now…he hurt a lot of people when he left…he wanted them to hurt.

He hadn't seen Illumi since the end of last year. Why did that sound so far away? It's only been a few weeks since December.

Killua never wanted to see Illumi again, yet it was now Illumi's face he was searching for in this unfamiliar crowd. He was relieved and disappointed his big brother was nowhere to be seen.

Killua didn't know what any of that meant nor did he care that he couldn't cook or that his pig was a far cry from passing. All he knew was that he really wanted a cup of hot chocolate with peppermint snow.

It was hard to cook when one was involuntarily subjected to host a cooking show in front of an audience of two despicable guests.

Hisoka and Gittarackur.

Leorio knew they were talking about him. They looked up from their stations at him anticipating another disaster to strike then turned to each other—snickering. Leorio felt his confidence plummet each time they did.

"Gon, pppppsssstttt, Gon, GOOOOON." Leorio yelled in a whisper. Hisoka and Gittarackur broke out into hysterics. "Switch stations with me. Please. I'm begging you."

"I'm tending to my pig and so are you. We can't just move them off their spits." Gon said, as it was stupidly obvious. "It'll ruin the flavor. Menchi says it's really important."

"Flavor, forget flavor! It's pork, it'll taste the same no matter what. Just hear me out." Leorio carefully turned his head to look at the two spectators—they looked away when Leorio caught them staring—Leorio whipped his head back to face Gon. "I can't cook like this, they keep looking at me."

"Then don't look at them." Gon blinked.

"It doesn't work like that, Gon. C'mon please. I'll owe you a favor."

"I'd rather perfect my flavor."

"GON. They're going to make me slip up and fail!"

Kurapika sighed. "If you have to blame your own incompetence and shortcomings on others, then you're not fit to be a hunter."

"Wah, wah, wah, you're not fit to be a hunter Leorio, that's you, that's what you sound like. YOU THINK NO ONE HERE IS FIT TO BE A HUNTER. PERIOD. You have no idea what I'm going through. Try walking in my shoes, hmm? WALK IN THEM!"

Gon stoked the fire as the flames kept licking the underbelly of the pig. Char gives flavor. "You don't really know what they're laughing about. And their stations are in the back behind yours, and Menchi and Buhara are in front of ours. So just from the way everything is arranged, it might look like they're laughing at you, or me or Kurapika or or even at each other."

Leorio calmed a bit. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I shouldn't be so paranoid."

"If they were right next to you like we are, then they would really have something to laugh about." Kurapika said, making steam hiss out of Leorio's ears.

"Kurapik—AAAAHHH! MY PIG!" Loerio yelped as the fire swallowed up his entire pig. Anxiously blowing on the flames out of sheer panic.

Hisoka and Illumi could hardly breathe while watching Leorio burn yet another one of his ties. After they both returned from the forest with their pigs, and with Illumi donning his disguise again, Hisoka wasn't repulsed or horrified with Illumi's appearance, transformation, nor his profession. Truthfully and against Illumi's initial belief…they were hitting it off well. So well, he forgot to pay close attention to Killua, who was thankfully no longer associating himself with that noisy trio. It seemed things were naturally sorting themselves out. Hisoka was so intrigued by Illumi's life as an assassin that Illumi wasn't hesitant to tell one, or two, of his escapades, which Hisoka graciously devoured.

"I'm telling you. Really. He passed. He passed!" Hisoka labored. Trying to control his laughter.

"He passed out." Illumi corrected. Remembering how Hisoka carried the knocked out applicant, Leorio, over his shoulder and sat him upright under a tree like a rag doll. "Alright, let me see if I understand this. If someone needs a beating you're there."

"Tch, a beating? No. You make it sound like I'm just your average ruffian who settles for just any old fight, and truth be told, I have standards nor should I bear all the blame alone. In fact, I've had a couple of incidents where guys were begging for it." Hisoka said, referring to his fight with those applicants in the swamp. Though it was barely a fight at all. A part of him wanted Illumi to one day beg for it too. "I respectfully oblige, though I shouldn't always be so nice."

Illumi snorted. "Okay, so it depends on the situation."

"Enough about me, I want to know about you."

"Oh, pricey."

"I'm serious."

So was Illumi.

Hisoka was all mischief. After Gittarackur revealed his true identity, Hisoka craved to know more about the man behind the needles. Illumi Zoldyck—oh he liked that name, saying it over and over again in his mind, even more so the man who carried it—an assassin with a flair for the dramatics just like Hisoka possessed. Hisoka felt so many emotions rush within him at the same time. He was fascinated, bewildered—excited. It was a surprise to find a kindred spirit at the hunter exam of all places. "You began to regale me with a tale about one of your jobs then cruelly left me hanging right at the best part. Is it true? You ruined a hotel?"

"Oh, that. Well, not the entire hotel. A room." Illumi clarified.

A slow smile spread across Hisoka's face. "A room. Hmm, do I want to know with whom?" Hisoka was a little jealous now.

Hisoka could have sworn there was a slight blush across Illumi's face. Slight. "Sorry to disappoint you, but it wasn't for whatever depraved reason you're thinking of." Though Psyche and his own mother were not too happy about it.

"Really? Oh well. That takes all the fun away. It's none of my business, but I can't help being curious. What had the room done to piss you off?"

Illumi turned his head down, laughing. Then he looked back at Hisoka. "Bad taste in decorations."

Hisoka laughed. "But I mean—"

"Bad day. It was just a bad day." Illumi lightly shook his head before picking off a piece of pork and dipping it in his wild mushroom marinade, hungry.

Hisoka leaned in on his elbows, deciding to guess instead. "Let me see. Hmm. You hadn't been drinking? Were you in the mini bar?"

"No, that was the only thing that was left untouched." God, Illumi could kill for a drink right now. Roast pork reminded him of a winter feast. Craving a sultry mulled wine that's been left simmering for days with cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg. Poured in a warm mug and topped with dried orange rinds.

"Now that you're older, do you still do that?"

"No, because I'm incredibly responsible now." Illumi playfully rolled his eyes. Then he thoughtfully paused. "Well, it depends. If I have to."

"But no one really has to destroy a hotel room."

Illumi smiled. "How do you know?"

"You're right, I don't know. But I've never had to destroy one."

"Well, your day may be coming."

Hisoka laughed.

"Oh, the line is gone. Do you want to have our meals judged now?"

Hisoka gasped. Illumi was waiting for him to finish cooking so they could go…together? Illumi was beautiful, considerate (and possibly inviting him to a hotel room to fuck, but Hisoka wasn't certain if Illumi knew what he was asking. Yet. Surviving the misty wetlands and fighting off carnivorous pigs was the start of their meet cute after all, so who knows what will inevitably, definitely, absolutely come after.)

"Hisoka?"

"Let's go." It was nice to have friends.

After successfully escaping the swamp, with all her limbs intact, Psyche lost all the food in her picnic basket she put so much thought into buying. Without the fog to conceal her, any animal that could see, tried with great effort to eat her. She had to fend off a giant frog with swiss rolled ham and cheese sandwiches and not even the chocolate bonbons could be saved. The crows were persistent and made her a very generous offer: the bonbons or her eyes. She couldn't refuse.

She held the tattered wicker basket by the only handle that was still barely attached to it before it completely snapped off.

She threw it in the bushes.

However, there was a silver lining. Her shadow beast carefully set down the only surviving hunter applicant she came across in the swamp. He was unconscious, but he'll live.

Sighing, she opened her compact to see how much damage was done. Sure, she was covered with grime, drenched in sweat, and there was something dead tangled in her hair but it was nothing a comb, hand wipes, and lip gloss couldn't fix-

Psyche yelped before closing her compact with a shudder. As if hiding her reflection would somehow make it untrue. Illumi can't see her like this! She looks like the ex-girlfriend the creature of the black lagoon dumped for being too ugly.

She combed her fingers through her hair in a panic, hurriedly trying to untangle the knots. Her fingers landed on the dead lump. A lump that was moving then squirming then buzzing its wings. NOT DEAD! ALIVE! IT WAS VERY ALIVE!

The applicant groaned. He slowly opened his eyes and saw another beast of the wetlands. Filthy hands clawing at her wild hair, bloodshot eyes accompanying a high shrill scream. He was kidnapped by the hideous witch of the swamp and was going to be eaten alive. The shock was so great he passed out again.

Did she look that bad? Psyche was determined to not let the world see her, let alone Illumi. Usually when a knight saves a damsel in distress, they pledge their undying love for them right on the spot. Instead, this man was unconscious, convulsing, and foaming at the mouth. Sometimes mercy was a swift death and other times it was dragging an unconscious man into a bush and stabbing his outer thigh with her only epipen. The convulsing stopped and the foam dried up. She secured a badge over him after noticing they also functioned as tracking devices. The hunter committee will find him.

Psyche grunted and ripped the bug out of her hair and saw that it was fuzzy all over, looking more like a cute little plushie than a real threat. Trembling in her hands. She shouldn't have been so rough with it when it was clearly more scared of her. She gently tossed it into the air and watched as it flew high up and towards the clouds—only to nose dive back at her. Its stinger pulsed out of its abdomen like a pistol and gleamed menacingly in the light. (The Missile Wasp. An insect with a powerful, concealed stinger that can shatter bone. Once enraged, it can only calm down once it has killed its aggressor.)

Every damsel for themselves.

Psyche summoned Willow and escaped into a shadowy tunnel. Now on the other side she was free from the demonic wasp, but faced another problem. It was entirely pitch black, jagged in all the oddest angles, felt damp, warm, and greasy. Where did Willow take her?

She used her phone as a flashlight and raised it above her. Her voice was stolen and silence reigned as she realized what she was surrounded by.

Psyche was buried in a tomb of bones.

Y'all know where she is, but I'm still gonna make this girl anxious beyond help ✌

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Haha So regarding the flashback scene, illumi is basically that guy who trains intensely like a navy SEAL, so he doesn't make training easy especially for killua, but he doesn't deliberately make it, um, torture either lol. Nor does he use his full strength because then it wouldn't be a training session…there's a level of awareness and the point of everything he does is to teach Killua, so i hope i was able to convey all of that. I also feel like Killua is a character who feels alot, and that his relationship with Illumi does contain pain, but there is also good in it too. At this point I've written Illumi interacting with all his siblings, so yay!

This is part 1 of the brother chapters. Anticipate 3, or so, in total. Psyche and Illumi will have their reunion soon, no worries ;)

Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought :) Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!❤