Once again on time. Woop, woop. Your reviews, your support and your love is everything, I can never thank you guys enough. Now, I'm gonna be keeping this author's note short since the chapter itself is pretty long. I have written two chapters ahead of this and I'll be updating on the 10th of the next month (yay, I finally have an updating schedule; at least for a few months).
Also, I wanted to clarify that the previous plot is almost the same, except that here we're going to be considering that Gon managed to defeat Pitou without putting his life in danger, he never got to meet Ging as he didn't show up at the elections and of course, Killua and Gon never parted. Now, let me take you on a roller coaster of emotions.
Chapter: 18
"Presage."
The clouds didn't rumble. There was a fine sheet of splattering rain pouring to what seemed everywhere.
The brunette extended her palm and felt small droplets dissolve on her skin. She took a few steps forward as she spotted the light-haired figure, dressed in dark. He threw a deep, penetrating gaze at the sky.
"Where are we?" she asked, shortening the distance between them.
"In my dream, I guess," he answered, still not looking at her. "That's probably why you're actually addressing me."
She wore a small, sad smile. "Why here?" she asked him, looking around. "The rain, in the place we first kissed?"
She said it so effortlessly, it surprised him; he dug his hands into his pockets. "I think this is where—" he paused to weigh his words. "This is where my dreams began." He, at last, met her gaze and she saw emotions that startled her.
"So, if this is your dream, then why am I actually able to think and feel?" she asked curiously.
He shrugged. "I don't know; this definitely doesn't exist. Maybe it's your dream," he suggested.
She carefully studied his face; he looked torn—devastated. There was a period of deep and torturing silence.
"Do you hate me?" he finally asked.
There was a pause—a very short pause—and she shook her head. "I don't hate you," she confessed. "You came into my life at a time when I was moving aimlessly down a path towards utterly nothing; you picked me up when I was scattered beyond repair. You're my savior, I could never hate you."
He exhaled and his condensed, misty breath spun around and took off into the cold air, maybe taking a fragment of his soul with it.
She walked to him and took his hand and it was like his emotions were crashing down on him all at once.
He looked at her wide-eyed.
"She's not in her senses right now, she's shut down every part of her that could lead to hurting in any way" she said. "—at least she's tried to," she corrected. " She's blaming you for something you had no hand in. She just needs someone to accuse, someone who can be the reason her life is so screwed up right now." She paused. "This won't last long," she promised. "When she regains control of her mind, she'll realize that. But then she'll find another excuse to accuse you of something."
He studied her eyes carefully, as if he could read her thoughts.
"You lied to her," she stated. "About everything."
Suddenly, there was a roar of lightning and they both looked up; the sky was an ominous grey.
"You should have told her yourself. One way or another, she would have understood."
Her words triggered thoughts in his mind that roamed in a far edges of his brain. All that could have been: only if—maybe if he did—would she—
"I tried to tell her," he revealed. "But—everything that happened—she was already consumed."
"Then let her know that," she advised.
He looked at her surprised.
"She might be stubborn and insensible at times but she's still human; try your luck, who knows, a miracle might happen."
"Who are you?" he finally asked. "Her yang twin?"
Her face went blank for an instant and then she laughed a loud laugh that seemed to echo from every corner.
He loved that laugh, God knew how long it had been since he had last heard it.
"Her guardian angel," she said pensively. "No— her conscience, that seems about right."
"So, you're her?" he questioned.
"I am," she assured. "Just a part right now, but I'll be her when she gets back to her senses."
He looked at her and then to his feet, now completely drenched from the rain.
"Everything will be fine," she comforted kissing his temple. "Just keep hoping."
I exited the gym after getting a leave from my P.E. instructor. Just showing my braced hand had done me miracles and not just at school; my mom also had started speaking to me again— she even fixed my hair.
As I walked down the hallway, my eyes felt so tired that I couldn't further ignore the three sleepless nights I had gone through to complete all my previous assignments.
I sighed as I stood in front of the beige door with the tag indicating that this was Mr. Kiyeshi Isawa's office. I didn't know him and he was supposed to be the one teaching us our six month philosophy course, which had started in January... Summary: I had missed more than 'just a few' classes.
I knocked lightly as I took out the folded piece of paper from my pocket.
"Yes?" called a heavy voice from inside.
I opened the door to reveal a black-haired man sitting behind the desk. He had huge eyes and a beard that I thought made him look like an axe murderer.
"Mr. Isawa?" I confirmed.
"Yes?" he repeated annoyed, not looking up from a pile of sheets before him.
I put the application on the table.
He looked at me, then at the page I had just placed, and then at me again, this time raising an eyebrow.
When I just gazed back with a bored expression, he picked it up as he read through, his eyes trailing across the page. As he finished he stared up at me with an expression that clearly said 'are you serious?'
I just shrugged and looked away.
"You've missed more than twenty of my classes and you want to recover your grades?" he asked somewhere between irritated and amused.
"Yeah," I replied simply, waiting for his reaction.
"Do you know anything about the course?" he challenged.
"No," I answered honestly. "But I can manage."
I couldn't believe it, but I thought I actually saw him roll his eyes at me.
I bit my lip to control my temper.
"Even if you could, why exactly would I waste any of my time trying to help you go through the whole course again? Are you some sort of royalty?" he muttered, returning his attention to the sheets in front of him.
I gritted my teeth. What sort of a fucking asshole was this guy? "Are you?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
After a moment's silence he glared at me and I glared back. I seriously had horrible anger problems. Instead of hearing something similar to 'detention', I swear I saw the hint of a smile on his face.
He took my application again and read it once more. "You haven't attended any of your classes for over a month, can I ask why?" His tone was a lot more interested now.
"No," I retorted. I honestly couldn't believe myself right now. What was I doing?
I thought I saw his eyes grow larger as if he was struggling to keep himself from laughing. "Why were you suspended?" I could tell he was trying to keep his voice composed.
"I'm sure it's written on there," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed.
"It is," he admitted and I saw his eyes light up. "But I'd like to hear it from you."
I just stared at him. "Are you serious?" I refrained from adding 'fucking'.
"Do you want this assignment or not?" he debriefed amused— he even put down the pages and rested his chin on his fist and for a moment I had the impression that I was looking at an older version of Killua.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I..." I began slowly, "...hit a girl on the face." There was a pause after which I added. "With a locker door." I emphasized each word carefully.
He was wearing a peculiar expression, I could tell he was just dying to burst out laughing right now. He took a piece of paper and handed it to me after writing down something on it. "Get this book from the library, full essay on the first four chapters, to be handed in by next week."
I nodded and walked to the door.
"I'm very strict when it comes to marking," he warned.
I gave him a sarcastic look. "Good for you," I complimented as I was about to exited.
"What's your name again?" he asked curiously, sounding like a vital piece of information was missing from his life.
"Claire Gaspardo," I mumbled. When I shut the door behind me, I thought I heard a loud chuckle. I pursed my lips and decided that maybe I should take precaution and take a look at someone else's assignment to avoid getting a bad grade, but sadly, there was only one person I could think of.
I found Nora by her locker, arranging her books according to the day's schedule, which she had been doing since the fifth grade.
I sighed, she was probably the last person I wanted to talk to right now. I decided to make this quick and forward.
"Hey, can I have a look at your philosophy report?" I mumbled.
She looked at me as if I had murdered her family, then turned away. "No, I don't think you can," she answered dryly.
I raised my eyebrows. "What's your problem?" I asked, confused. "I just want to see the pattern of the essays."
"I don't understand why you're getting such an easy chance to recover your grades." Her tone was hard as she continued to place the books in her hands.
I rolled my eyes. "And that's bothering you because...?" I asked sceptically.
"You don't get to use me when you need me, okay?"
I gritted my teeth. "Isn't that what you've been doing since elementary school?" I challenged. I didn't even know why I was replying to her, this was probably one of the most stupid arguments I had taken part in.
At last, she faced me and narrowed her eyes. "You're such a bitch," she spat immediately and I knew she had been holding this in for way too long.
I sighed. "Get lost." I waved her off as I walked past her. My temper was already becoming threateningly dangerous.
"Attention-seeking slut!" she said from behind. "You must be so glad your dad's dead since you're always desperate for the spotlight, aren't you? From—"
I didn't even know when I had lunged at her. Anger was throbbing in me at an uncontrollable rate. I only processed what I was about to do when I found that I was no longer on my feet.
"LET ME GO!" I bellowed at Killua as he walked down the hallway with me thrown over his shoulder with Nora's horrified figure becoming smaller and smaller along with the crowd of people all looking at us with their mouths wide open. "Put me down this instant!" I struggled to free myself from his grip.
It was no use, he didn't even bulge nor did he bother to answer.
"Killua, I swear—"
"Shut up," he said in a voice that was so cold, I bit my own tongue in the process.
He only put me down when we were in the deserted gym.
"What exactly are you trying to do?" He asked me, glaring in a manner that left me breathless.
"Why are—" I attempted to answer, but realised I didn't have any words.
"I can't ask you whether you have any sanity left because sadly, I know the answer. Since you've already had yourself suspended once, I suggest keeping that idiotic ass of yours out of trouble unless you care to be expelled."
I had to lift my head to meet his gaze. "How does that concern you?"
"Frankly, I couldn't care any less what you do or don't but I think for a second you'd want to reflect on the outcome of what would've happened if you actually got away with what you were about to do? I think you mother would be pleased, especially after everything you're already putting her through," he concluded.
I bit my lower lip and looked to my feet. I would die before admitting that he was right. I felt a rush of embarrassment and loathing that I couldn't describe. "I hate you," I blurted out.
This time he didn't show any change in his expression, he simply shook his head and walked away.
I tried not to notice, as I watched him leave, how tight the muscles of his neck were pulled back.
The start of February was cold and it even snowed somewhere in the middle, the freezing wind made everything pass in a blur. My life had fell into a routine of only exercising my mind on giving extra attention to my studies. My grades were back to normal and I had even managed to pull off an A in my philosophy paper, which I found was something impressive since I was the only one who accomplished such a feat.
I would've even enjoyed the subject if the person teaching it wasn't such a deranged jerk to me the whole time. On my first day in his class, I was late and then made the mistake of walking right up to him to hand in my assignment.
"Do you think showing up late and handing in the assignment early makes you look cool?" he whispered as he took the file. He actually asked me that. The asshole actually said that to me.
I looked him straight in the eye. "Yeah, pretty much."
He glanced once at my report and then turned back to me. "What is a sin, Miss Gaspardo?" he asked expectantly.
"Your beard," I muttered as I made my way to the only empty seat.
He boomed with laughter behind me and the whole class looked at me like I had sprouted a tentacle, everyone except Killua, who was looking at the man with a curious expression. I didn't realise I was staring at him until he met my gaze. I panicked and tripped over my own feet. When I got back up and sat down, I saw Mr. Isawa biting back a grin. I would've even gone around asking who the hell had hired this idiot but after my first class, it was clear that he was incredibly good at what he taught.
March swirled by with me trying to avoid reacting on the fact that Killua and I were partners in chemistry labs. He was contributing equally to reach a successful number of zero in terms of communication in more than half of the classes that we shared.
Killua's P.O.V:-
The snow covered ground seemed to be emanating a weak glow into the air. The frost settled on the branches of the trees was like a slow yet painless death. I sat on the frozen bench in the deserted park, staring off into the unknown.
The cold was so severe that it was nearly impossible to feel anything. I closed my eyes trying to determine where and why my body was hurting, but deep within, I knew it very well that my pain had nothing to do with that: my soul was tired, so agonizingly tired.
I wondered sometimes if there really was a God out there and then sometimes I imagined what it would be like to have children; both thoughts horrified me somehow. I felt like I didn't exist but pain reached me anyhow.
There were memories that scared me, ties in my life that were poisonous yet inextinguishable. There were conflicts in my mind that were tearing me apart and then there was this dark, seeping fear that I wasn't born to or meant to feel. I wasn't capable of emotions, the sole purpose of my life was and would always be—
My heavily distracted brain didn't register the mass of white fluff dashing towards me. The snowball hit my face with full force an instant after I shut my eyelids tightly.
"Asshole," I muttered holding back a grin as I wiped the snow off my face with my hand.
I heard Gon's laughter from nearby.
When I opened my eyes again he was seated beside me with a huge grin and a beanie over his head. "God, that was satisfying," he commented.
"You piece of shit, what exactly was that for?" I demanded raising an eyebrow.
"That's simple," he explained. "You, your brain, and your thoughts are things that can't be allowed to be alone, especially in such a depressing place like this."
I rolled my eyes and a silence followed in which we both looked at the grey sky above us. "We should get it over with," I decided.
"What?" he asked, looking at me.
"We found nothing in both his apartment and his office so the only option we have left is to ask the man himself; I think we should get it over with as soon as possible," I clarified.
"What's the hurry?" His tone implied that he knew the exact answer.
"I wanna leave," I confessed.
He met my gaze. "I wanna stay."
"Why? Why would you want to waste our time here?" I debriefed.
"I know what you're trying to do." He leaned his head back and didn't look at me. "Running away won't stop the pain."
I didn't answer because I didn't want to or maybe because I didn't have one.
"I wanna stay," he repeated. "I like settling down, even just for a while," he mumbled.
I nodded. "We can go and stay anywhere you want, just—" I convinced.
"Killua, I wanna graduate. I mean, what's the point of leaving right now? It's not like we have a precise goal waiting out there for us." He sighed. "Sometimes I think it's just plain stupid how I've got you to—"
I smashed the snowball into his face before he had even a chance to understand what I was doing.
He remained frozen for a minute, then turned to look at me as he ran a hand over his face. "Dick," he cursed.
I just smirked at him until his composure broke and we both howled with laughter for no damn reason.
"It's just two months," he persuaded.
I sighed and remained silent.
"I know you think that you're incapable of feeling, Killua," he confessed. "But you're actually one of the most perceptive and emotionally sensitive people I know and I think you're pretty amazing."
I put my hands in my pockets and stared at the ground. "What difference does it make?"
"All in the World," he replied. "You'll see."
I extended my hand and let a snowflake fall neatly in the middle of my palm. Cold, empty and utterly meaningless, just as my life was.
Claire's P.O.V:-
It was about three in the morning when I leaned my head against the headboard in defeat, admitting, at last, that sleep wasn't going to come. My gaze fell onto my laptop, lying ignored on the side table. I extended my hand and gently traced its logo with my fingers.
I remember clearly that I had left it behind in the office the night I had sneaked into school with Killua and Gon, but not so surprisingly, it had been here the very second I had returned from the hospital. I had considered smashing it more than once after that but my dad had given it to me on my last birthday; it was the only thing that kept me from destroying it every single time.
"Do you really think blaming me is going to be enough cover for you to hide from your own self?"
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the same exact words that had been torturing me every night. "No." I sighed, covering my face with my hands. "No, no, no." There was no fucking logical explanation on how he knew about—
And then it hit me almost immediately and my sight darted to my laptop. Killua had my laptop that night—I didn't know why, but he did. I was reading through the article about Ingrid a few nights back and I had slammed my laptop shut without powering it off; he had walked in and there was no doubt that made him suspicious— did he know her?
I bit my thumb. He was a member of the World's biggest family of assassins and she— I was more than sure that she was a big deal. He must know her and he might've just assumed— or maybe it didn't have anything to do with that at all.
"You know one of the perks of being a good liar is that you can tell apart your own kind very easily; takes one to know one, right?"
"I've known you've been lying since the very moment you told me the absurd story about your adoption."
I sighed. But I wasn't sure if it was just out of relief. "There's no fucking logical explanation," I said out loud to assure myself. Maybe he only knew that I was lying but didn't know specifically what I was hiding. If I just hadn't made this up to put my mind at peace, then this could be considered a fairly convincing story.
To distract myself, I grabbed my phone and just went through my contacts. I deleted his number quickly before I had a chance to think about it and took a breath; then, I went through my call log and deleted all the calls that had been directed to his number. It took quite some time. My fingers only stopped tapping when I came to a familiar number that I had not called for more than six months.
I hit dial before actually thinking of what I was doing. There was no dial tone, just a voice informing me that the number was currently powered off; I wanted to tell them they better add forever in place of currently.
I was about to throw my phone against the wall when the voice mail message started playing: "Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Hachiro Ajibana, you can leave a message after the beep," said a man's nervous voice and then just before the beep sounded he added a faint, "Did I do it right?" And I could hear my own laughter in the background.
My fingers froze and my heart stopped beating. I only realized my mobile had escaped my fingers when I heard it fall to the floor with loud thud. I didn't want to cry—and somehow I knew I wasn't going to.
Out of nowhere, I found myself considering what my dad would think of me if he saw me now. I closed my eyes and cradled my head in my hands. And there in full force, a maddening pain hit my body and I knew it was all back.
The door opened and my mom peeked through as noiselessly as possible.
I looked at her and sighed. "Did I wake you?" I asked feeling ashamed as I recalled the noise that I had just made by dropping my phone.
"Oh, no, no," she said as she entered. "I was—in the kitchen. I just can't stop eating," she admitted guiltily.
I gave her a feeble smile. There was no denying that. She had become really huge during these past months and so had her appetite.
She sat down next to me and met my gaze. It was like she already knew everything.
"I'm so, so, so sorry about everything and I love you. Please don't say it's okay," I pleaded ranting breathlessly. God, it hurt like hell.
"Are you satisfied with your life?" she asked, startling me.
"What?"
"Do you feel...I don't know, some kind of hole? An empty space somewhere you can't describe?"
I tried to keep my expression composed. I didn't want to admit she was right and I certainly didn't want to hear where she was going.
She took my hand and shook her head. "When was the last time you actually laughed?" she demanded.
I passed a hand through my hair and bit my lip. "Mom, there are things you don't know and Killua—"
"Oh, I know," she interrupted. "I'm not pretending I know every single detail of your life and I know how fucking complicated life gets. I don't know what happened to you two." She squeezed my hand lightly. "But nothing is too big to get in the way of love and I'm saying this because I've seen what kind of a person that boy is. Whatever happened between you and Killua, fix it Claire, because I know you can and I know if you don't, you'll regret it."
She left before I had the chance to answer, leaving me to deal with my fucking mind and thoughts alone. For the first time in forever, even though every single part of me was aching, I felt like my dad was right next to me. I knew what to do and not even the fact that I was the biggest coward in the world would help me delay it.
I was rushing out of the front door noiselessly when I caught sight of the clock indicating that it was six am. I blinked, feeling the sleeplessness prick my eyes, and sat down on the cold steps of my neighbour's door. The pavement was frosty; winters gave this city an excuse to have appropriate weather, otherwise it didn't really matter: it could be August and there would be rain. I swear the sky here had a mind of its own.
I wasn't startled when the door opened behind me. Mr. Domoto was a man who believed in rising along with the sun, he had even started, at one point when I was in seventh grade, to force me to accompany him on his stupid morning walks. Gladly, my incessant amount of tripping had rescued me out of this one and he had decided dragging me out with him on his walks wasn't worth the trouble.
"Why do you think some people like toast and jam while others eat cereal?" I mumbled. "Well, I've been thinking about it all night. So, you know I pondered that maybe people who like toast have more in control of their lives, like they have a firm ground and know their boundaries because that's what toast is like, but cereal people are just like drowning in the orbit of their own little world. Do you eat toast?" I turned to see his perplexed expression. "I'm not high if that's what you're thinking and I'm not gonna leave until you talk to me." I clarified.
He didn't answer and I didn't expect him to.
"You can shut the door if you want, I'll just keep sitting here and hoping to get sick or something," I said as I turned my back on him.
I heard a loud sigh.
"Have you noticed how when my life starts to suck, I just take it out on everyone around me?" My voice was very casual. "And I try to mask my stupid flaws by hiding behind others. Damn, I'm a shitty person," I remarked. "Because, it couldn't be clearer that I'm the worthless piece of crap and I'm the one who got dumped and can't get over it." I wasn't only confessing to him, this was a first for myself as well.
"Listen—" he began.
"Stop feeling bad for me, okay? I'm sure you value your sanity and I don't have any so don't try and pity me, I really hate that and between me and that trashcan over there, it's very clear who deserves to be felt sorry for and who doesn't." My gaze was fixed on the window of the house in front of us. "But, you know, I wanna ask all you people something; you, my mom and..." My voice faded, I couldn't bring myself to say his name. "Every time, every chance I get, I insult you people like hell, I consume you in every way possible; why, for just even once haven't you guys answered back? I'm just rubbish, I wish you would say something," I mused, leaning my chin on my palm.
"Have you had breakfast?" he asked worriedly.
I just shook my head and sighed.
I heard him walk away and minutes later he sat beside me with a box of doughnuts, offering them to me.
I took one and began picking on it with my fingers.
"Eat," he ordered.
I put a small piece in my mouth. "What makes people good?" I questioned as I chewed slowly. "Is it doing the right things or staying away from the wrong ones? Because, you know, I've never done drugs, I have never smoked, I've never— I've never done anything but that doesn't make me a good person. I think that's probably because I haven't done anything because I'm just afraid of these things, not of doing wrong." I looked at him for an answer.
He opened his mouth to speak but I interrupted him again.
"If you're attempting to rephrase the same lectures that you've been giving me since seven years ago, in which you tell me all about how and kind and good I am— don't," I pleaded. "I don't pray, I don't know what I'm supposed to make of that, you know? I don't know my faith, which is hilarious considering that all I actually think about is myself. But I think I'd rather be reckless and courageous than weak and fake," I emphasised, toying with the food in my hands but not taking a bite.
This time I knew he wasn't going to say anything because when I started to question myself, he was always the best listener— and he really did listen, not just reply but really understood.
"Where do you feel love?" I inquired quietly. "I only feel it in my chest. But hate, on the other hand, I— I feel everywhere, just everywhere," I whispered, leaning my head against his shoulder.
He put arm around me. "Right now, you need to remind yourself that you're human and that means you have every right to make mistakes—"
"Aren't you? Aren't my mom and—?" I stopped again. "Don't you guys have feelings?"
"You're only seventeen," he justified.
"So is Kill—" I paused.
I realized there wasn't much difference in the way our lives were playing out right now, yet, contrary to my behaviour, he was as composed as hell.
"I miss my dad so much," I admitted, for the first time in half a year, hating the moisture I felt in my eyes. "I love you, you're such a great person," I told him looking straight in his eyes. "Thank you for being here when my dad isn't."
And then I cried. I just sat there and cried because I knew I had to. It felt so utterly liberating like I was releasing a poison from within me.
I stayed with Mr. Domoto for the rest of the day, just talking about nothing in particular, just being with him, just watching lame TV shows. When he told me he had dinner with his girlfriend and I saw that it was now dark outside, I took it as my cue to leave.
"I'm getting married," he said awkwardly just as I was about the leave, standing at the doorway.
I turned around and stared at him with my mouth hanging wide open until I regained my senses and couldn't help but scream. He begged me to shut up and I finally did when he informed me that he hadn't told my mom, so I just ran home like an idiot.
I fidgeted with the knob of the door until I finally managed to open it. My mom wasn't in the TV-lounge nor in the kitchen.
"Mom?" I called upstairs, when there was no reply, I just decided to check her room. I paused to look at the shards of glass lying just by the door, when I pushed it open I gasped loudly.
She was lying unconscious on the floor with shattered pieces of glass to her side.
"MOM!" I shouted as I attempted to lift her and shake her awake. "Oh, God, mom just please open your eyes," I chanted as I tried to calm myself enough to get her out of here and I seemed to have gotten my wish.
She did open her eyes, but when that happened I saw the way they seemed to be rolling back and she let out such a loud, painful, piercing cry that I lost the ability to breathe.
"Please, oh my God, just let me—"
There was another painful shriek and then another and they didn't stop and I didn't know what to do. I regained enough control of my legs to attempt to run to Mr. Domoto before remembering that he wasn't at home.
"Please." I sobbed. "Just hold on—" I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed the number which I had deleted the previous night but nevertheless, knew by heart. Each ring and each scream killed me from the inside.
As my windpipe seemed to get tighter and tighter a voice in my head told me he wouldn't pick up and even if he did, why would he help me?
"Claire?" Killua's soothing voice addressed me.
I breathed in enough air in order to speak. "Killua—" I choked out. "Killua, my mom— there's something wrong with her please—" and there was another loud cry, I could only weep helplessly now.
The other line went dead and I felt like every living part of me demised with it. I felt so weak as I just was hung there unable to move unable to help my mother in anyway and my mind telling me it was what I deserved, I deserved to be left stranded by him for everything that I had done. I tried to stand but that seemed impossible— my legs had given out.
That was it. I was going to just sit here numbly like a coward and my mother would die beside me. Who was the murderer now?
It could have been an eternity, the time I just hung there devoid of any feeling. Every breath I took hurt and every time my mother screamed, seemed like the last.
In one overwhelming moment, Killua pushed the door open and rushed in as he glanced for a few fatal moments at my mom and then picked her up and carried her outside.
I stood up nearly automatically, this time catching enough breath to follow him to the lounge. I couldn't clearly see anything as tears were swimming in my eyes.
"What's happening to her?" I asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
He jerked his shoulders and held her more carefully. "She's in labour," he stated. "Go open the door of my car," he commanded without further delay.
I stood there frozen. "No," I denied. "She's barely started the seventh month, she—"
"GET OUT AND OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" his voice echoed from all around me, even drowning my mom's maddening cries.
I ran without further argument and followed his orders.
When Killua managed to lie her down on the backseat, she stopped screaming; her eyes closed and her head hung to a side like she was asleep.
I got into the passenger seat as Killua shut his door and stared back at her seemingly lifeless body, without the strength to utter a single word. I lost any feeling in my legs as I saw the crimson coloured liquid staining her shirt. "Killua—" I breathed. "Oh, God, Killua, she's bleeding, KILLUA, SHE'S BLEEDING!" I shrieked, losing my mind.
He immediately glanced at her and then at me.
"We won't— she won't get there in time, I— no," I whispered, feeling consciousness slowly leave me.
He opened the door and got out of the driver's seat. "Take off your hood," he ordered and took out my mother from the back seat.
I obeyed wordlessly as I got out, still struggling with my breathing.
In one swift movement, he flung her over his back and instructed me to hold the overall around her. He then grabbed both the sleeves under his teeth and had a strong grip on her.
"You—" I began feebly. I couldn't comprehend anything.
Then, as if the world suddenly stopped revolving, a bright flash of light emanated from Killua and in the next instant he was glowing furiously. Like lightning...like a God.
He lowered his head and, for a moment, it seemed as if he was praying and in another, his figure dashed away as if he was never there in the first place.
For what appeared to be a century, I just stood there shaking like an idiot. When I managed to gather enough strength, I ran across the street and then to the next. I wasn't really sure what I was doing but I did know that there was no fucking way I could drive in this state of mind.
Rushing into the familiar building, I darted up the stairs and then to the corridor, stopping only when I was standing breathlessly in front of the black door.
I struck it repeatedly with my fist, my other hand was on my knee as I tried to catch my breath.
The door opened, revealing Gon's tall figure staring at me with wide eyes. "Claire, what's—"
I grabbed his hand at the speed of light and pulled him behind me. "I'll explain everything— just come with me, HURRY!" I barked.
He kept asking ignored questions as we ran back to my street and I climbed into the passenger seat of Killua's abandoned car.
Gon took it as some kind of a cue and got in the driver's seat. "Where do you need to go?" He asked.
I kept breathing loudly as I realized I didn't have a certain answer to that. To which hospital did Killua take my mom exactly? "To the nearest hospital." I forced the words out of my throat.
He gave one small nod and started the engine; the key was already in place.
"What's going on?" He asked as he reversed the car.
I extended both my arms and closed my eyes then shook my hands with all my strength trying to restore any feeling in my flesh.
He looked at me with a confused expression as he pulled out.
I only found my voice when we were driving on the main road.
"My mom's in labour," I breathed. "Killua took her to the hospital."
"Oh, Killua—?" he asked, demented.
"He just carried her on his back and like— started glowing all of a sudden...literally," I added just so he wouldn't think me insane. "And then he just like— he zoomed away and I honestly considered my mental health there for a second— I think I'm probably just like really drunk or something," I blabbered. "Is that normal for you guys?" I asked in a small voice.
He turned from the windshield to glance at me with a guilty face. "Yes."
I passed a hand through my hair. "Are you guys some sort of wizards or—"
"Hunters," he corrected. "I told you that," he reminded.
"Right," I recalled. "Can all Hunters do these shiny thingies?"
"Well— sort of, if you're a nen user," he explained.
I gaped at him. "Okay, I'm gonna pretend I know what you're saying," I stated. "Just please keep talking to me, about anything, I feel like I'm gonna jump out of the car right now if I'm not distracted."
He scratched his head awkwardly as he stopped for the red light. "What should I say?" he asked nervously.
I bit my lip nervously. "Isn't Killua an assassin? How come he's a Hunter too?" I debriefed as I fidgeted with my hands.
He looked at me from the corner of his eye as the car moved forward. "Killua was an assassin," he cleared. "He left his family when he was twelve."
I stared at him blankly. "What do you mean Killua left his family?" I emphasized on the word left a bit too much.
He took a turn. "He— am I really the person you want to hear this story from?" he asked in a weird tone.
"Yes," I answered immediately. "What the hell does this all mean?" I asked loudly.
"Killua— he hasn't had contact with anyone from his family for over five years." His hands tightened on the steering wheel.
"But— why did he leave?"
Gon sighed and looked at me. "He has this thing with expectations. You must've noticed how he's good at practically everything he does and he showed great potential for running the family business; his life was already planned out for him and he— he didn't want any of it."
I recalled how Keitomaro had been referring to Killua as the Zoldyck's heir. "So he didn't have anything to do with—" I paused, unable to speak further.
"The holocaust at the auction, yes," he completed for me.
I stared blankly at the windshield as Gon kept driving in silence. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me any of this?" I asked, outraged after a moment.
He gazed at me in confusion. "You told me not to mention him the last time we spoke," he justified.
My eyes widened as I looked at him. "To hell with what I said!" I said exasperated. "This is absurd!" I gasped as I held my head in my hands.
"I thought he told you everything and you didn't believe him that day you were in the surveillance room," he clarified.
"He told you that?" I asked murderously.
"He didn't say anything, he wouldn't tell me what happened," he said defensively.
"Wow," I commented, feeling utterly stupid. "He still lied to you about everything," said a little voice in my head. "He— he could've just told me the truth before all of this— I mean, I can't guarantee it, but I think I might have understood," I mumbled, trying to convince myself along with him.
"He should have," Gon agreed.
It was like a small flash, but I suddenly remembered the morning after the homecoming dance when Killua wanted to tell me something...and he asked me if I trusted him. Oh, fuck.
I only regained my senses when we parked right in front of the same hospital where Killua had dropped me after I broke my knuckle.
I just walked beside Gon, too mentally unstable to try to run.
"Hana Ajibana," I said to the receptionist.
Her eyes trailed down the computer screen. "I'm sorry, her name isn't here."
"She— uh— she must've been taken to the delivery room," I suggested.
She shook her head again. "We have about more than fifty births everyday," she to.
Maybe Killua didn't bring her here. I looked at Gon for help.
"There was a silver haired boy with her," he tried.
Bingo. Her eyes lit up immediately in recognition. "Third floor, first room to the left; you should stay in the waiting area."
I almost rolled my eyes as I followed Gon to the elevator. Of course, it was impossible not to notice Killua.
When he pressed the button for the third floor, I felt all the panic return to my body in a second and started pacing around the small space.
"It's gonna be okay," he comforted.
"Yeah," I said as I nodded crazily and shook my sweaty hands. "It's gonna be alright— perfectly okay."
But as soon as the elevator doors opened I ran out like there was no tomorrow. Taking a left at the corridor as I was instructed, I almost tripped but luckily Gon caught my arm just in time.
"Relax," he said as we walked reading the tags above the doors, making sure we were in the right place but I didn't have to look for long because I saw him: He was in one of the seats in the waiting area, his hands clasped under his chin as he looked vacantly at the wall. Then, he saw us approach and his gaze moved to met mine.
He stood up, offering me his seat and shifted to the next.
Gon and I sat on either side of him without a word.
He turned to me, his eyes looking very tired. "She's going to be okay," he informed.
I stared at him speechlessly; I couldn't take my eyes off his. I didn't even know who I was anymore, because in that fucking moment I felt like I couldn't love him more in my whole life than I did right now.
He eventually looked away and handed me something that was placed on his lap. "Sorry, it's ruined," he said as he revealed my torn and bloodied hoodie.
I blinked at him for several seconds before taking it and throwing it in the bin beside me.
There was a painful silence for a few minutes before I took out my phone from my pocket and tried to dial with my shaking hands. It was hopeless, my whole body was trembling like hell.
He took it from my hand.
"Your grandmother?" he asked wearily.
I nodded.
He tapped quickly a few times on the screen before offering it back to me.
I shook my head. "I—can't," I choked out.
He then held it to his ear and after a moment, started speaking calmly, explaining the situation very carefully.
I couldn't believe just how composed he was after everything that had just happened. I had done literally nothing but I still felt exhausted.
When he was done I asked him to tell Mr. Domoto next; he obliged without a word.
I didn't know what time it was, I didn't know how long it had been that we just sat there until I found it incredibly hard to remain awake.
"Close your eyes," Killua whispered in my ear as he placed my head on his shoulder.
"You won't leave, will you?" I mumbled, barely conscious.
"I'm here," he assured and I felt like I was home after a really long time.
When I opened my eyes again, I heard murmuring and I saw Mr. Domoto talking in whispers to Killua and Gon.
"What time is it?" I asked, feeling disoriented.
Killua had barely finished informing me that it was past three in the morning when a very young looking nurse walked to us. "Congratulations! It's a girl," she announced excitedly.
Everyone stood up simultaneously and I could feel the tears pricking my eyes. I became aware of just how loudly I started crying when Killua rubbed my shoulder lightly and Mr. Domoto hugged me.
Two tissues, a glass of water, and an hour and a half later, I was sitting on the foot of my mom's bed trying to ignore the blood bag on her side.
There were several tubes connected to both her wrists and enormous black circles under her eyes.
I had just come in since they wouldn't allow it before and when I tried talking to her I was interrupted by a call from my nonna informing me the she was going to board the first flight here and a whole fifteen minutes of me trying to get her to stop crying.
"You did a great job," I complemented. "Dad would be so proud," I added, trying to keep my voice steady.
She smiled weakly at me.
"Have you decided a name?" I asked.
She leaned her head back. "Well, considering that I've had a lot of time to think about it, I should have come up with something awesome," she said tiredly. "But instead I just gave up and thought of using the Twilight idea of combining our mothers' names and that didn't go very well, I got— let's not mention it," she said, rolling her eyes.
"That's pretty lame."
"But," she interjected. "Just before I woke up, I saw Hachiro," she announced proudly.
I rolled my eyes at her. "And he suggested a name?"
"Oh, no," she said. "He sucked at that just as much as I did. So, we both agreed on something."
I raised an eyebrow at her. Maybe she was still a bit drugged. "What?"
"Well it's obvious, isn't it? You get to name her."
"Me?" I demanded, astonished. "Why me?"
"Because she's your sister," she said like it was the most obvious thing in the World.
"Okay, well, thanks to your weird dream telepathies," I mumbled.
"Speaking of that, I had an even weirder dream," she confessed. "You know, I was just kind of flying and— Killua—no wait, Killua was flying," she muttered pensively.
My eyes widened. "Uh— that's a pretty pathetic dream."
She remained silent for a moment before speaking again. "So, what did you say happened to me again?"
I fidgeted with my jacket zipper, trying to look busy in order to avoid her eyes. "You got really sick and I called Killua and he brought you here," I summarized so not a single lie was involved.
She was about to say something when the door opened and Mr. Domoto entered carrying what looked like a bundle of blankets, then handed it to my mom.
It was from the emotional look on mom's face that I realised that that was actually the baby.
"She's nice and healthy," informed Mr. Domoto. "That's saying something since she was born premature, that's a miracle baby you've got there Hana."
I tried to take peek of her by lifting my head up but when my mom saw this attempt, she simply offered me to take her.
"Uh—I'll drop her," I warned.
She rolled her eyes and sat up more steadily as she tried to hand her over to me.
When I was sitting in an awkward position that seemed safe enough for the little thing, I finally saw her face: It was very pink and she was soundly sleeping; she was so tiny, I thought she must be the size of a bread loaf. She was really adorable when she wasn't the reason my mom was screaming like hell anymore. In the middle of these thoughts, the baby opened an eye, like literally just one eye, and then both before shutting them again.
I froze for an instant. I had just a glimpse of her eyes, but they were so familiar I recognised them immediately: the dark brown irises had just looked up at me for barely a second.
I could feel the tears in my eyes, but before they could escape I took a deep breath to calm myself. Never once in my life had I believed in the word 'reincarnation', but now, I think I did.
I brought my finger to touch her extremely small hands and she wrapped around it her tiny ones. I couldn't help the shaky laugh that escaped me.
Leaning down ever so slightly, I kissed her forehead. "Welcome to the World," I whispered. "Katie Ajibana."
The door opened again and this time Gon revealed himself. His gaze almost at once fell on what I was holding in my arms and he kept staring at it.
"Wanna hold her?" I suggested, seeing the mesmerized look on his face.
He gaped at me like I was about to offer him a great privilege. With extreme caution, he took her from me and then kept gazing at her like she was the only thing in the World worth looking at anymore.
"Where's Killua?" I demanded.
"He left," he replied without looking up; he was now touching the tip of her nose with his finger very carefully, like he wanted to make sure she was real.
I saw my mom looking at me with a very knowing gaze.
I shook my head at her.
She nodded at me and raised her eyebrows. "Don't be a coward," she mouthed.
I sighed and got up. "Do you mind if I go out for a while?" I asked her.
"Sure." She shrugged and then nodded at me secretively again.
My feet suddenly felt very heavy and shaky as I got out of the hospital room, taking a breath, I went to the elevator and this time when I pressed the button for the ground floor, my body started shaking once more and God knows this time I felt more nervous than ever.
The weather was freezing when I knocked lightly on the same door I had been punching just a few hours ago. The particular cold in this month of April seemed like a presage for something worse on the way; I couldn't shake off the ominous feeling.
It was after a few minutes that Killua appeared from behind the door, wearing a white shirt and looking worn-out, but somehow not physically.
"Hey," I greeted when he just stared at me blankly.
"Hey," he answered after a while.
I opened my mouth to say something but realised I didn't even know what to say. "I—I named her Katie," I mumbled awkwardly. "My sister," I added.
"Oh—" he said quietly. "That's a good name."
"Yeah." I scratched my head.
He nodded. I noticed how his hand was holding the door, like he might shut it any minute.
I sighed and hugged myself. "Killua— thank you so much for—" I began.
"You're welcome," he cut me off immediately.
I just stared at him. Was it getting colder or was it just me? "Okay," I breathed.
"You should be with Hana," he advised and I knew that was his kind way of saying 'get lost already.'
I chewed on my lower lip for a few seconds before I exhaled. "Look, Killua, I'm so sorry." My voice was so heavy and each word sounded just as honest as it was. "I—I know I hurt you so much and I—I don't have any excuse for the way I behaved with you. You have every right to hate me and— I kept blaming you for something you had no control over and I—I did that to you because I'm afraid to face myself." My voice broke by the end. I tried to quickly wipe away the tears in my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
He kept looking at me with a very piercing gaze until he nodded. "Okay," he answered simply.
I pursed my lips and didn't dare look away from his eyes. "So, it's okay? You—you don't hate me?" I asked hopefully.
"I don't hate you," he assured.
I heaved a sigh and passed a hand through my hair. "Thank you."
He nodded again and moved to close the door.
"Wait!" I said breathlessly, unable to comprehend what he was doing. "Aren't we—" I paused to find the right words.
"Aren't we what?" he asked raising an eyebrow. "Getting back together?" he said bluntly.
I just kept my sight on him silently.
"Please, clarify," he requested. "Because I don't want any misunderstandings between us, not tonight," he added and the calm tone of his voice scared me.
"Yes," I mustered the courage to reply.
He smiled bitterly at me and shook his head, like he was disgusted at what he saw. "So, you're thinking that things are going to get back to the way they were, are you now?"
I suddenly felt very ashamed for some reason. It was like I didn't know what I had been expecting.
"How selfish can you get Claire?" he asked sadly. "What exactly do you think I am? Do I look like some lifeless puppet to you? Or you just think that I can't feel a single thing because I'm a Zoldyck, because I am," he stated. "I belong to the family of assassins that killed your father, do you understand that?" he probed. "And nothing you do can change that. So, let me just ask you, why are you here now?"
"Killua, I just know—"
"You don't know anything," he interrupted. "You never did and neither you do now. I'm the same person I was on the day we met, I'm the same person you punched in the face. SO WHY ARE YOU HERE?" he bellowed. "Tell me, what has changed?" he said, trying to steady his voice.
I wanted to say something, but I had lost my voice.
"Is it because I showed up when you needed me?" he asked, guessing exactly what I wanted to say. "If it's that then tell me, when I have not showed up when you needed me?" His voice shook slightly. "I was always there."
I sobbed involuntarily before clasping a hand on my mouth.
"And if you tell me that you thought I was pretending all along with everything then I swear I'm going to—" He stopped mid-sentence and put a hand on his forehead.
I tried to breathe. "Killua—I'm really sorry and I—"
"Well, sorry isn't good enough, Claire."
I wiped my cheeks repeatedly. "What is then? I'll do anything—Killua, I—I can't be without you," I begged.
"You managed just fine for three months."
"If you just give me one chance, I swear—"
"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," he pleaded.
"Please," I whispered feeling helpless.
His gaze hardened and I knew this was it. I prepared myself for the final blow, but it was never enough. "Have a good life, Claire." He shut the door before I could even take another breath.
I still think today, I should have kept knocking until he opened again. I should've begged him. I should've told him I loved him. I should have but I didn't, because I was something I had falsely accused him of being—a coward.
The wind is as selfish as the haunting night
for it molds every word as clear as a blurred sight.