I wonder what it is about this fic, or the anime it's based on, that has me returning to it every couple of years. It just so happens that I'll suddenly get an idea for a dialogue that will quickly expand into an entire scene and then a storyline too. When I started writing this chapter, I made a little bet with myself; I would check the fic's statistics, and if even a single person had viewed it in the past year, I would complete it. When I followed through, I was honestly surprised at just how many regular viewers every chapter of this story gets on a monthly basis. What I'm trying to say is I wrote this chapter for anyone and everyone out there who keeps gravitating to this piece of writing I created when I was seventeen (and honestly, I cringe at the thought of that). If you come to this story on a day off, maybe at night when you're stuffed in a nice blanket burrito, or at any random moment when it crosses your mind, just know that you're making that seventeen-year-old girl very happy. On a side note, I decided to update the name of this story since I feel like the new title captures its essence better.

Chapter 28:

"Exordium"

I blew a warm breath through my cupped hands and rubbed them intently and without reason really. Living for an extended period in my hometown, Noda, which is tucked in the corner of the Eastern Padokia, renders you awfully susceptible to these weird habits. Owing to the fact that it rains more in a day than the sun cares to make an appearance annually, the cold and the wet are an unavoidable part of life there. People in Noda have very low expectations where the weather is concerned; I mean, just a peek of sunlight during the starting folds of the day is enough to have people filing like ants to the one pathetic beach we have.

I was hoping this low-expectation policy pertaining to the weather didn't translate in other areas as well because the city I was currently standing in was the biggest metropolis in the United States of Saherta. In simpler words, York New City wasn't a place for losers, and if cupping my hands and exhaling warm breaths into them in successions made me, in fact, a loser, I had plans to shed that habit immediately.

I was mentally explaining and shaming why I adhered to certain hand-related rituals because my boyfriend had very much noted my unnecessary display of fragility and had very much cared to reward it with an unnecessary eye roll of his own. Killua Zoldyck had a way of saying more with his eyes than his mouth, but that wasn't to say his mouth didn't do marvelous things on its own too.

I caught my train of thought and was immediately submerged in a shot of embarrassment, which I could feel warm and bright in my cheeks. Ever since my face had decided it could suddenly blush now, it had become very hard to mask my thoughts and associated feelings from the man I spent almost every second of every day with.

"You're picturing me naked," Killua concluded just with a brief glance at my face; hence, my theory about the readability of my face had been proven way quicker than I cared for it to be.

"Am not," I pressed, almost biting the words, "but you're pretty damn close" to save myself from a conversation that was most certainly going to circle back to our sex life somehow. Killua's favorite activity was to integrate that into exchanges as often as possible to see how frequently he could make me blush in a particular time frame. I wasn't sure what his standing record was, but I wasn't about to help establish a new one right this instant.

Uncharacteristically, he gave up on pursuing the ordeal further, which only fortified my assumption that his mood today was cloudier than the notorious Noda skies I was just contemplating about.

We were walking on the sidewalk of an awfully busy facet of the city that we stepped into on exiting the premises of the York New College of Technology, which ended up becoming my first choice among my college acceptances for very obvious reasons. The biggest of those reasons was walking beside me with an especially sour look on his face.

Killua had offered to take me to complete all my paperwork and the remnants of my college registration this morning. It was less of an offer and more of a blend between boy-friendly duty and charity because I and paperwork, with a dash of having to interact with people, made for a very deadly recipe.

I had been observing him rather carefully since I saw him heave a huge sigh before starting his car this morning. After a couple of unfruitful attempts at getting him to reveal the reason behind his demeanor, I decided to withdraw and silently make sense of the change since all I had been seeing was a beaming Killua who might secretly be counting petals on flowers ever since we'd gotten back together a couple of weeks ago.

I was mentally juggling a few factors that I thought might be bothering him. So far, I had narrowed it down to either the fact that there was still practically nothing he and Gon had unearthed from the flash drive we'd basically gambled our lives to secure from the JCI's database during the annual action (because the data was very intricately encrypted). Or, me refusing to bring my car out here and wanting to take the subway for the coming years, I expected to stay here. I knew that my driving in a busy city such as this one was sure to cause at least a couple of fatalities at my hands, and I wasn't quite ready to be a registered felon before I even had the chance to start college.

"If you're pissed about having to drive me around today, you know I didn't ask you to do that. I know how to walk," I said, testing my second hypothesis since the first was still quite a sore spot for both boys.

He stopped walking and spun around in the same motion. The whole sequence was so sudden I lost my balance by stepping on his shoes and went face-first into his chest. My accidental dive didn't even shake him; instead, he just raised a cocky eyebrow before saying, "So much for that theory." Referring to my claim about knowing how to walk.

"Ow," I mumbled, putting my fingers on my nose. His well-built body wasn't so appealing when one bumped faces with it.

"You know I never have a problem with driving you around. I actually prefer having you alive," he informed, before putting one hand on my shoulder and moving me out of the way of a small line of people that were waiting for us to do exactly that.

It was still weird for me to get used to these little features that this larger-than-life city had an agenda of educating me about every now and then. "You can take the girl out of the small town…." I quipped, walking right next to Killua this time as we made a beeline for his car.

He smiled and shook his head at that. "I know you hate big cities, and that's probably a survival feature in your brain. Do you know the sheer panic I feel when I picture you here alone?" He demanded, gesturing with his hands like a maniac before he opened the car door for me.

The amount of energy that this man had put into the three sentences he had just spoken had given me an all too clear idea about why he had become Mr. Sunshine ever since we'd stepped foot in this city.

I put on my seat belt and patiently waited for him to settle into the driver's seat before addressing the problem at hand. "You hate that I moved here," I realized, making sure to establish eye contact when I said this.

The blue in his eyes somehow acquired more dimension on registering my accusation. "I hate that you're moving here because of me," he corrected, not shying away from looking directly at me either.

"What? Is that really upsetting to you?" I asked, shocked and, honestly, a little hurt too.

"Of course. I don't want to be the reason you change plans you've made way before I came into the picture. My plan hasn't changed; why should yours?" he asked, his tone tinted heavily in frustration.

"I can't even believe this is a discussion," I mumbled, not really knowing what to say.

We both sat silently in the car for a few minutes. I knew he was gathering words to pack an argument that I wasn't verbally equipped enough to counter, and knowing that already frustrated me.

"Listen," he began, but since his tone was soft my guard went down a little, "I made a promise to someone who is, for all intents and purposes, my brother, and that promise makes me liable to change courses, make sacrif— no, scratch that," he halted immediately and shook his head in successions. "What I meant was, I can't always do what I'd rather be doing," he revealed.

Hearing him say what he had just said made me think of how moved and absolutely crushed Gon would be on hearing Killua talk about him and his side of the story that way. I mean, I had a lump in my throat just hearing how powerful Killua's loyalty to his best friend was. But this wasn't all; the fact that Killua was on the verge of actually wording out something that wasn't selfless for once, no matter how briefly, made me unable to say a single word to interrupt it.

"…not to say that there was anything else I wanted to do before…" he added, and his pale cheeks went warm without him realizing it.

I wrapped my fingers around his hand and let the sheer coldness of them seep right into me. I was well aware of how weighted this moment was for him, and I wanted to let him know I felt it too.

He took a breath before recapping everything he wanted to say. "Six years ago, I told Gon I would help him find his dad until I found what I wanted to do, and you know how long six years is to never set eyes on anything that gives you a sense of purpose? Even when you're looking?"

I just stared back at him silently. Something about hearing him talk that way made me realize that even though I flattered myself by thinking I knew this man well, I didn't. I would never really understand his depth, even if I tried for the coming decade.

"What I'm saying is it took me six years to find— you, and this was not how I planned it, you know? You weren't supposed to follow me around— I would go anywhere you went, and I can't do that."

My lip was trembling from the emotional weight of his confession, which is why my voice shook when I said, "Killua, I don't need you to do that," I told him sincerely.

"I need me to do that for you," he fired back, flustered, and I don't know why but that cut right through my patience. "And if I can't, at least I don't want that from you."

The contrast between his words and his tone really pushed the wrong buttons for me. I mean, here was this guy that had essentially told me he loved me in so many ways but was focused on ruining it with his troublesome, unasked-for, and delirious guilt-tripping. "Well, tough luck Killua, because that's exactly how things are right now," I seethed, unable to control the venom in my voice.

He turned to look at me when he caught the drastic change in my tone. "I'm not saying I want to be away from you," he clarified, reading the hurt in my eyes.

"I don't care if you were saying that," I shot back, "I had to wait eight fucking months to get you back, and you're bat shit crazy if you think I was going to give up the opportunity to stay with you just because of a stupid college plan." My volume and Killua's eyebrows rose with every word that came out of my mouth. "Oh, and by the way, this is a great college with an excellent program in data science, which was exactly what I wanted to do in the first fucking place!"

I don't know when I scooted further toward him, and he inched back with every aggressive moment from my side, but that was exactly the position we found ourselves in when my rant ended.

He raised his hands to admit defeat before he spoke. "Well, I'm glad that's the case."

"I swear to God, Killua, if you do something to convince yourself that you're not good for me this time, I will shave your head in your sleep," I threatened, and he knew very well I meant every word of it. "I don't care if you were trained to be a professional fucking assassin, I don't care if your brain is practically awake even when you're sleeping— I will find a way."

"I believe you," he said in a weak voice, but I could tell he was just holding back laughter at this point because of the valley girl accent I had gone to in my attempt at mimicking him.

He dug his finger into the neckline of my sweater and pulled me in for a kiss.

"This won't make me forget—" I began as I pulled away for a second.

"Shut up," he said, drawing my mouth back to his.

"I'm serious, Killua, I—" I warned, resurfacing.

"Shut the fuck up." He repeated his previous motion and stuck his tongue in my mouth, keeping it there until I felt dizzy with butterflies.

I was breathing as if I had just been underwater after he let me go.

"You haven't seen the new apartment, have you? He asked out of nowhere as he took out and started dialing on his cell phone.

"You guys have an apartment already?" I asked, perplexed and out of breath.

"Gon, today's a great day to take a walk," Killua said into his cell phone all matter-of-factly. All I heard from the other line was the beginnings of Gon's cursing when Killua cut the call and turned to me. "Yeah, let me give you a personal tour baby."

I was speechless over how crude he had just been. I was still speechless, and additionally, also breathless when Killua rolled off of me an hour later as I lay in his very expansive, very comfortable, and very new bed in his very new apartment, which apparently, I had no idea he had been renting for the past two months.

"You're shameless," I accused just as Killua moved to peck me on the cheek after putting his pants back on.

"You're beautiful," he countered in the balmiest and most unabashed tone any human being could ever have in any circumstance.

I had just slipped on one of his t-shirts that fit me more like an oversized sweater when Killua went to attend to a knock on the front door.

I had plans to shower the sweat off of myself, for which exact intention I was headed to Killua's restroom. In all honesty, I wanted to comb through and steal a couple of Killua's luxurious shower products, but the sound of the door loudly banging, followed by a weird muffled choke coming from the corridor, had me change paths.

The sight that unraveled before me upon my arrival was that of Killua deadlocked by Gon, who had somehow also managed to halfway stick his fist in Killua's mouth too.

I could only widen my eyes at the display.

"You need to learn to keep it in your pants," said Gon through gritted teeth, and my jaw hit the floor at that. "You can't kick me out—every time you're—" he was forcing the words out while maintaining his grip on his hostage, but by this point, Killua had elbowed him straight in the stomach and made a clean break.

"You shouldn't keep it in your pants all the time," Killua countered, now cupping the lower half of Gon's face, "maybe you wouldn't be such an uptight bitch then."

While this entire sequence unfolded, their movements became too quick for me to follow at one point, and all my weak human eyes could register was a weird entangle rolling in every direction of the living room.

"You guys need to stop," I put in there with no enthusiasm at all. The truth was, maybe someone out there who didn't know these guys for an extensive period of time would be alarmed at this ordeal. But, for someone who had seen these two teenage men get physical over a video game score and even over the last pizza slice, this was a routine matter.

"You're disgusting," Killua roared as he drew back his hand. My guess was Gon had gone for the good old lick and kill, which I must admit with pride, was a creation of my own making.

"Not more disgusting than you!" Gon fired back. He wasn't the most skilled in the words and comebacks department, but his passion more than made up for it.

I rolled my eyes and decided to circle back to my original plan of showering and theft. The last thing I saw before taking my short leave was Killua plunging his fingers into Gon's nostrils and pulling his nose as further back as it went.

When I materialized again, after making sure Killua's fancy conditioner was at the very bottom of my bag, both boys were having cereal and a loud conversation on the kitchen counter, the start of which I couldn't catch.

I decided to fix myself a bowl, too, as I moved around the island and toward the cabinet drawers.

"—because you're my very best friend," Gon was saying when he was within my earshot.

"Stop it, you idiot! That's embarrassing," Killua replied, his ears and face practically red with mortification.

"So, you're embarrassed when he calls you his best friend, but not when you kick him out to have sex?" I deciphered, trying to milk the entire situation as much as I could. "I wasn't in on that, by the way," I clarified, turning to Gon as I seated myself on the barstool next to him.

Gon had just granted me his silent forgiveness through a nod, and Killua had rolled in eyes for lack of a better reply, which I considered a heavy victory on both fronts.

"This apartment is nice," I mused, looking around at the spacious room that the kitchen opened right into.

I liked that everything I had seen so far of the place had a no-nonsense approach to it. It was minimalistic, neat, and a serious upgrade from their previous one.

"Did you like your room?" Gon asked before stuffing a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"My what?" I asked, confused.

"Oy!" Killua exclaimed, smacking him on the back of his head and instigating a waterfall of milk and cereal on the counter. "I haven't gotten around to telling her yet."

"Telling me what?" I demanded, my eyes darting between a flustered Killua and a disheveled Gon who had tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and a bump the size of my fist on his head. "Telling me what," I repeated, making sure Killua recognized the threat in my voice.

Instead of giving in to my menacing words, Killua turned to look at Gon, who had, at this point, recovered and was staring back at Killua.

I did love the absolute bond that these two shared, but I'd be lying if I said their weird and frequent telepathy didn't piss the hell out of me sometimes.

"Stop it," I ordered, glaring at each one of them with the same intensity. "What is going on? What is up with the room story?"

"Well—" Killua began, his voice indicating that he was still trying to figure out the best strategy to convey whatever he was about to. "—I thought…."

"We thought," Gon corrected in an attempt to provide him support, but that's as far as either one of them went with the conversation.

I continued racketing my eyes from one boy to the next and vice versa, but God, were these motherfuckers unaffected by the sheer murderous quality of my gaze. "Are you two about to ask me to marry you?"

"No," Gon responded immediately, his reception to humor as mighty as always, while simultaneously Killua said, "So help me God if I do." And if that didn't spell the difference between these boys out, I don't know what did.

I facepalmed and took my time to decide which course of action was more likely to yield an outcome quicker. "Gon." I decided, rubbing my face, before looking straight at him. "Why do I presumably have a room in this apartment?"

"Well," he said, exasperated, scratching the back of his head. "Us," he began gesturing between Killua and himself, "and— your mom thought that it wasn't a good idea for you to be living alone… not good as in… dangerous even."

"My mom!" I bellowed in disbelief. "Agh!"

My spectators were silent as they watched me pace across the room with my hands moving in crazy frustration.

"You!" I announced, pointing a dangerous finger at Killua. "I'm dating you!" His eyebrows furrowed at my odd declaration.

"And you!" I shifted my accusing finger to Gon. "You're his best friend! You guys had a secret conference with my mother to discuss me? What is wrong with you people?" This time I raised my hands to add to the drama of the scene, and I succeeded because I could see guilt evident on their faces.

"Claire," Killua took the reins this time with a more composed tone, "you can't seriously think that everyone would be okay with the thought of you living alone, all the way on that college's campus, too."

I just read his face for a moment and knew that somewhere in that sentence, he wanted to integrate the words klutz, disaster, and tragedy too. "Killua," I pronounced his name with weight, "I know you guys aren't okay with the idea of me living alone. I'm not okay with the idea of me living alone!" I informed, staring at both of them as if they had missed the most obvious thing in the world. "And you guys would know that if any of you had cared to ask me about it instead of having ninja meetings to scheme around me." My hand gestures were of utmost importance to fully trap my audience in the most crippling of shame, and I wasn't going to let that opportunity pass me by. "You know what you guys are? Huh?" I pressed, taking my time to look at both of them. "You're schemers; you too, Gon," I informed with a nod.

Gon's face was practically saturated with humiliation. However, Killua could still use a dose from my side.

"Killua," I said in a little voice, going in for the kill, "I know you're sly and clever, but I never thought you'd use that against me."

Killua just looked at me with a deadpan expression and rolled his eyes. "How is this conversation even happening? Since when are you easygoing?"

I didn't even get the chance to get a single word out before he continued with: "There's definitely a catch here."

I opened my mouth again, but he shushed me with a finger. "Something about impeding you from ever attaining even a little sense of autonomy? Or how sexist this entire thing is," he calculated suspiciously.

"We're feminists!" Gon advertised loudly.

"Because this isn't a conversation about women, this is about you," Killua added, and I knew, at this point, he was just keeping me from saying anything.

I narrowed my eyes at him and then directed a fraction of my glare at Gon too, who was nodding ferociously to Killua's left.

"This conversation is over," I declared, keeping a leveled voice that would serve me for what was to come. "But as an apology, I will be taking the biggest room."

That led to an uproar from both boys, which I countered with a "or… I guess I'll just live on campus, three miles away, defenseless, and with a working electricity connection."

"So you're blackmailing us with that? How fresh of you," Killua interpreted, shaking his head.

"We already set the biggest room aside for you, Claire," Gon revealed with a big grin.

I was secretly moved by that confession, but I wasn't about to show that, so I just nodded, adding: "and I get exclusive rights over everything in Killua's bathroom twice a week."

But, of course, Killua was way too clever to fall for that one. "We'll get to that once you put back whatever you just stuffed in your bag when you came out."

I gave him my best puppy eyes but to no avail.

"The best stuff is in the vanity," Gon told me before sauntering to the last door on the left, which I presumed was his room.

"Gon!" Killua roared, chasing after him, but his door was already bolted shut.

"That's what you get for kicking me out this morning!" Gon fired back, and it was evident that that was as far as that exchange was going to that night.

I was sitting on the edge of my new bed in my newly allotted room as Killua explained to me the hows and whys of this space's being as plain as possible.

"—so you basically pick out whatever you want for it. Oh, and the hot water is a little stingy on your side, so you're welcome to use mine."

"That's generous of you," I agreed with a nod. "Can I ask why my moving in wasn't a conversation you could have with me?"

He turned to me like he was expecting just that question. "I didn't want to make a thing out of it," he admitted, plopping down on the bed next to me. The sudden weight of his body on the mattress sent me flying for a fraction of a second. "We just got back together. I didn't want to make you feel pressured because it's not like that at all. You get your own room, your own space; I just want to know you're near and okay," he explained simply.

"Because plotting with my family was an excellent way not to make me feel pressured," I mused, pinching the tip of his nose. "My mom's getting an earful over this."

"Claire," he spoke seriously. "You don't get it, do you?"

I couldn't help but lock gazes with him at that tone. "Get what?"

"This is the city your dad died in," he gently reminded me, and for a second, I felt like someone had pinched my windpipe closed. I felt stupid to the point of no return when I realized that this particular detail didn't cross my mind once as I planned my move here. "It's natural that your mom's nervous."

"I—" I wanted to say something, but declaring myself an idiot just wouldn't cut it.

"It's not just that, though," he continued, awarding me the most honest look into his thoughts I might ever get from him. "This city is dangerous. There's all sorts of folk here, people who might know my family, know me, people who are just— bad news. You get what I'm saying?"

I nodded weakly, not sure how else to display my assent.

"That man connecting you to me back in Noda, that was just sheer coincidence, and he was nothing. Here, it's probability. It's more about when than if."

I hated the turn this conversation was taking, but I trusted him enough to know that he wouldn't let me down that way again.

"I'm just saying that I want you to be careful and on your guard all the time. You want to be with me? I want to be with you," he rushed through the words, and my heartbeat went up and down with them, "but I want you to help me make this work, okay?"

"I'll be good," I said simply and meant it too.

"That's my girl," he approved, resting his fingers on my chin.

A couple of hours later, I found myself sleepless and utterly submerged in the darkness of the room. Killua's head was nestled on my shoulder, compliments of his falling asleep while we were talking. The thoughts in my mind were a million a minute, which is why sleep wasn't an option.

I ran my fingers through his hair as I looked through the window right toward the mesmerizing view of the city, which seemed to stretch as farther as my vision would allow.

Killua's words and warnings from earlier swam in my brain like untamed waves. Something about this city unsettled me far more than I would be okay with admitting to Killua. It was as if everything that I heard and was reminded about it was an exordium about malicious things that were to come.

A four-worded poem comes in whispers like a dark-cloaked friend,

In the midst of a new beginning, the poem goes: this is the end.