Chapter 32:

"Coalescence."

I hate it when people use the expression "just like when I was a kid…" probably because I had a very weird childhood to begin with, which I tried to hammer down to the depths of oblivion every chance I got. But on a day I couldn't quite name, at a time I couldn't really tell you much about, I found that very phrase right at the tip of my tongue.

When my eyelids parted, I truly felt like I was maybe a five-year-old girl again; the sight of my older brother's face being one of my points of orientation. It was a very simple scene really, pleasant even, with the silhouettes of trees hugging the high points of the day. The accents of sunlight, mixed with a light breeze that fell at just the right facet on his face.

Book in hand, gaze and thoughts at least a totality away. He even had that familiar set of small creases right in the middle of his eyebrows, which I always had the urge to smooth out for him. "You're wrinkling again," I'd say, and he'd be transported back in real-time only to shake his head in dismay at me. I could swear this was déjà vu.

It took me an additional few seconds to realize that I could get this exact angle of view only if my head was lying on his lap. I blinked. My brain had finally deemed it appropriate to get its rusty gears running a little, which is why I started wondering where the hell I was and what was going on.

"You're up," my brother observed, putting his leisure-read away, like I had just gotten down for a nap while we encountered one another in the middle of the street.

I felt my throat with my hand and made sure I still had a tongue before I answered. "No shit."

"You have a slight fever," he informed me, looking down at me like I was a child, which was when I realized that I should be getting up and protesting in some way.

I propelled myself upright and my hands encountered the feeling of coarse wood. "Where are we?" I wondered, looking at the bench we were currently sitting on, and the green folds of the scene before me that my currently compromised eyes could hardly take in.

"I'm not sure," he confessed, looking around like he had been transported here without his will just like me, "I think this little patch of grass is supposed to be a park, and I thought you wouldn't appreciate it if I took you somewhere enclosed without your permission."

"Huh," I contemplated, fixing my stance to let my legs dangle down the bench. "Of course, I do appreciate you jumping me out of nowhere and giving me a seizure."

"Seizures aren't actually instigated that way at all," he corrected, in a matter-of-factly tone that made me want to strangle him on the spot.

"Oh come off it, Luca," I lamented, trying to smooth my hair down with my hands. "What are you even doing here?"

"I told you I'd find you, it seemed like that was what you wanted to hear at the time," he explained, looking uncertain of my reaction, as if I was the one being unreasonable.

I shook my head for a couple of seconds in an effort to try to jog the coordination of my mind and tongue. "How did you even find me?"

"I skimmed through the list of attendants for the auction, rightly assuming that you still kept your first name," he confessed easily, and I wasn't sure if he was trying to give off the image that he had nothing to hide or if that was actually the case.

The thing was that there were a million and one questions I wanted to ask him, but have you ever been in a situation where you can't seem to put words or sequence to obvious thoughts that are plastered right at the very front of your brain? Yeah, that's what was going on with me. "Why now?" I found myself asking.

"Why now what?" he had the audacity to ask, and I don't know if it was the 'slight fever' thing messing with my temper or if I was simply on a roll today, but even I knew that pulling my brother's hair out in frustration less than minute after being in his presence since almost a decade would probably put me in the category of clinically insane, real fast.

"Why did you decide to show up now," I clarified, being unable to help how bitter my tone was. "And for the record, just running into me a few weeks back doesn't entitle you to jump back into my life when you basically walked out on me, or actually, on both of your sisters without a thought to spare."

His breathing going up a little was the only indication to me that he had been affected in any way by my outburst, because the rest of his demeanor remained as composed as ever. "I don't expect you to understand," he finally responded, and his million-dollar answer was honestly the worst thing he could have said under such circumstances.

"What would I understand, Luca? There's no way to sugar-coat how selfish you've been about everything, and frankly, are continuing to be from what I see."

He took a minute to offer me an answer this time; the only thing I could give him credit for here was that he genuinely seemed to be listening to what I had to say instead of letting it pass in hopes of an adequate response. "Claire, I know you're mad, there's no reason for you not to be," he assented, his voice the picture of empathy, "but there's just so much in between that I couldn't get into even if I wanted to."

"Alright, then why are you here?" I demanded meanly. "You have no answers to give, you probably have nothing to ask either, because if you did you'd probably start by asking about Katie, who you've conveniently erased from your mind and this conversation like she didn't even exist in the first place."

He turned to really look at me when I asked that. "Why would you say that?" He wondered, more to himself than me. "You know Katie meant the world to me, still does, and so do you," he added, like he had done the work to prove exactly that.

I scoffed, coming to terms with the knowledge that I was holding back tears on hearing that, despite the fact that I thought I convinced myself well that I hated this man a long time ago. "W-well, that's awful big of you Luca, but you know what? Katie's dead! So, boohoo, there goes your medal at big-brotherhood."

I saw his hands clench into fists, but again, his face betrayed no emotion. I wasn't sure if stoic composure was a part of his personality now or if what I had just said did not cause him any agony. "And— and the other sister that 'means in the world to you," I pronounced, making sure he heard the sarcastic quotations in my voice well, "you didn't know where she was for the past eight years and never cared to look, did you?"

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

I was so mad for so many reasons. I was furious because of the sheer display of emotions I couldn't keep in check right now. I was enraged at how I wasn't able to pursue the conversation on my little sister further because I couldn't bring myself to put out the truth about who really was responsible for her not being around anymore. And then, I was so pissed because here was another huge thing I had to hide from Killua staring me right in the face. I wondered how long it would be before I had a pile of secrets to my name that would explode in my face when he eventually found everything out, which let's face it, was an inevitability even someone in as deep denial as myself wasn't going to argue against.

And then suddenly, quicker than I could understand it or put a name to it, something shifted inside me. I realized maybe this moment right now wasn't a chance-encounter that meant nothing, but maybe the opportunity at redemption I had been looking for so many years now.

Here, right in front of me, was the only person who'd really give a damn about what I did and what happened to Katie. Someone who could listen, hate me for it, and give me the satisfaction of being dealt with rightly for what I did and the extent of it. Somewhere, in some twisted corner of my mind, I thought that if I could tell Luca what had really transpired that night, I could set in motion the sequence of karma and healing I'd been secretly running after my whole life.

If I could forgive Luca for his bad decisions, maybe he could also forgive me for mine. Or maybe if I could step up and be the younger sibling that let the older one off the hook, in some aspect, Katie could do the same and forgive me too. Either way, despite how lacking my logic truly was, there was never an opportunity to lift the unwavering weight off of my chest, which had settled for a near-decade, quite like right now. I also had no idea when I would get to see my brother again, if ever, so it was truly a now-or-never ordeal for me.

I wanted to spit the words right out, quicker than ripping a band-aid off because I knew that if I over-thought it, it would never happen. Why was it then that my thoughts currently felt completely constricted and any attempt at words only produced choking sounds that would serve in no way the confession I was desperately trying to put out there.

Luca looked concerned, I could tell that easily. One of his hands immediately found its way to my back, followed by questions; the same old mechanic questions that would make no difference. I thought to myself during this, what would be the worst that could happen? I would provide confirmation, through my own lips, of something I suspected for years at this point: there was something purely evil inside of me.

There was something inside of me that I could neither understand, nor control, only fear and despise in successions. Something that came out in the most awful of ways and offered the most bitter of words and the most unforgivable of actions. Something that was capable of murder.

I could make excuses, I really could. Like how it had only happened once, and how I had no recollection of it whatsoever, which also meant that it might not have been an intentional act or something I was really present for. But there was also the fact that my own sister had been victim to it, and how my actions prior to it were logically a reflection of my heinous crime and naturally led to it.

Would Luca understand? Would he forgive? Or would he be shocked and disgusted to the point where he'd never want to see my face again? Or could an even worse sequence of events unfold? All of these plausible outcomes, and entertaining them in my mind one by one was what made me realize that I was a coward, and the truth was that while right now might have been the closest I'd ever been to revealing the truth, my truth, it wasn't the time where I actually would come to do it.

So, here's what I did: like the absolute chicken that I truly was, I resorted to bawling my eyes out in the arms of my estranged older brother for reasons that he might not be sure of and I couldn't really name. Hatred, cowardice, exhaustion, fear, and whatnot intertwined and came out in the form of an unending stream of angry tears.

"I'm sorry," Luca pleaded, sounding as ashamed as any man could ever. "I promise you, I will never abandon you again."

Cue another round of fresh tears, because did I even deserve his compassion and pity? This wasn't, by any stretch, the kind of encounter I pictured having with my brother, but it was what I got, and I came to the realization that I was okay with that. "Why did you help me?" I managed to choke out in the middle of my wailing.

"What?" he asked, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as to how the conversation was darting left and right with no real sequence to it.

"Why did you help me back at the auction house?" I expanded, rubbing my eyes like a little helpless child and hating every second of it. This was a question that had been sitting in my mind for almost a month. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why Luca would just simply resort to helping me, no questions asked. I almost wanted to hear a selfish reason from him for it (though there wasn't one I could come up with by a long shot) so I could stop feeling that tiny flicker of emotion I felt every time I thought of it.

His eyes softened in a way I couldn't describe, before he ultimately said the one sentence that would change everything. "Because you're my sister."

Oh. "And you didn't care about whatever the hell I was even doing there?"

"Whatever it was, I wouldn't care," he admitted, shaking his head. "Truth be told that was more of an instinct that I couldn't even think through even if I wanted to, I just knew I had to get you out safely."

Was it this easy to fall back into old connections when they were made of blood? I wondered that and more as I simultaneously attempted to concoct a good response to his confession.

Before I could come up with anything, I found him staring at a particular spot on the bench. It took me a second or two to realize that he was looking at the pocket of my jeans, from which the badly stuffed photo of me and Killua was protruding out in a way where half of his face was in full view.

My first instinct was to tuck it in in record speed, but surprisingly, I found myself fishing it out and handing it to him.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He interrogated, scanning the picture with recognition clear in his eyes. "This is the boy who was with you that day."

I gave him a dead-pan look and got up from the bench. "Luca, you don't get to go all protective big-brother on me now, that ship sailed ages ago," I informed him, walking forward and trying to pass as nonchalant.

"Hm," he mused, standing up in one fluid motion to walk alongside me. "I disagree," he eventually said with a small smile.

"You disagree?" I scoffed, not feeling as irritated as I should at his argument.

He nodded before handing me the photograph back. "That's just one of the many things I'm entitled to as your big brother, and there's nothing you can do about it," he finalized, poking me on the forehead and then walking right on.

I was stunned, but not to the point where I couldn't gather a few words. "Yeah right!" I remarked loudly, following him without thinking about it.

"That's just how it is," he continued with a shrug, his pace still ahead of mine.

"Is not," I pressed, actually struggling to keep up with him, I wasn't particularly enjoying having a conversation with his back.

"In fact, I'll probably also have to issue him a warning; part of my brotherly rights and duties…" he pondered, and I noticed how his step accelerated just the tiniest bit every time I was close to meeting his pace.

"I'd like to see you try," I challenged, resisting the urge to scream on picturing the exact scene my brother was narrating.

The exchange between my brother and I continued that exact way for the remaining part of it. We parted right in front of my place of work, having swapped numbers, and with his unsolicited promise of another rendezvous.

The next thing I did was pop in to let Benjiro know that I wasn't feeling too well and that I would be cutting my workday short. He was actually nice about it, but I suspected that he didn't even notice I wasn't in, which was a telltale sign of how much he cared for my health and presence.

I then decided that I was in no state of mind to head straight home, so I booked myself an impromptu hair appointment to gather my wits a little by buying myself some time.

I finally got the opportunity and mental presence to address the awful maroon hair situation I had put myself in two-ish months ago for no logical reason whatsoever. I think I just wanted to prove to Killua that I was bold and daring, and dyeing my hair seemed like the most sensible way to do that at the time. The embarrassment and damage that had done to my hair made me regret said-decision on a daily basis.

While my hair was being brought back to life, I scrolled through messages from Killua, who wanted to know why I bolted out so suddenly this morning. I responded with the briefest explanation of an emergency call-in and jammed my cell-phone into my pocket with no intentions of revisiting it for the time being.

The strangest thing was that my encounter with Luca had made absolutely no difference to the boiling anger and frustration I felt for Killua. You'd think that collecting another unplanned secret to keep from him would pull my guilt strings a little, but if anything, the more I hid things from Killua, the madder I got at him. It made me focus all the more on all the things about Killua that I had no access to. Don't ask me to explain how that made any sense, it didn't, but this was the way it was.

I was smart enough to take a second for composure this time around before stepping into the apartment. I didn't want to do a repeat of my awkward entry from yesterday in case any new visitors were waiting for me to make an appearance.

Luckily, this time around, no such fate awaited me. I headed straight for the kitchen to pour myself a glass of ice-water in hopes that it would help reduce my fuming for Killua. I was in the middle of sipping when I caught sight of someone staring at me. The spray of water that made its way out of my mouth was impressive, but didn't unsettle my spectator one bit.

The scene before me was that of a child, mind you, a girl of no more than eleven or twelve, who was looking at me with the kind of scrutiny that didn't sit well with someone presumably her age.

I didn't know what to make of her exaggerated pig-tails that travelled like wings around her silhouette, or the antique-looking dress she had draped on, which I could only label as Victorian with my limited knowledge of fashion and history. I was wondering what the hell was wrong with me that had me feeling this self-conscious and speechless in the presence of a little girl.

I cleared my throat to save some of my dignity. "Uh, hi," I began, trying my best to sound pleasant, "can I help you?"

She offered me a small smile, but why did I get the feeling that a mother-figure was giving me a silent approval through it?

Killua appeared the very next second from the direction of his room. "You're home," he acknowledged, examining me closely. "Your hair's different," he noted, talking as if that was absolutely the most pressing matter at hand.

I ran my fingers through my hair as if that was brand new information; maybe I was just confused over the entire situation. "Yeah, I got it done," I mumbled pensively, wondering if I was the only one who could see the blond, pink-eyed girl sitting right across from us.

"I like it," he approved, moving to sniff my hair and still not showing any signs of being able to detect someone else in the room.

"Uh, Killua," I said, pushing his face back and pointing to the subject of my vision.

"Oh, yes," he mumbled, like the fact that a person unknown to me was right in front of us was hardly worth any mentioning. "This old ha—this is Bisky." Killua cleared his throat hastily and rushed through his words after the initial slip-up. I was just surprised to see the man looking like he had to bite his words back for the very first time.

"Biscuit Krueger," the girl announced suddenly appeared right in front of me, with a voice and tone that corroborated my suspicion of her years. "I'm Killua and Gon's mentor." She held her gloved hand out for me and I shook it; something about her felt instantly right.

My mind also immediately darted to the many puzzle pieces of Killua and his life that she must have within her possession, and suddenly she was all the more interesting to me. "Claire," I introduced, and her returning smile told me that she already knew quite a lot about me.

"Mentor," I repeated, looking from her to Killua with an obvious query in my eyes.

"That's a very generous word…" Killua declared, waving his hand in an attempt at nonchalance.

"Oh that's the right word, alright," she pressed, glaring at Killua, and I don't know what it was that I couldn't point out, but Killua's dynamic with her was different than I'd seen it with any of his other acquaintances. "I've known the boys since they were young," she announced, debunking Killua's off-handish statement. "Mind you, they hardly had any tact about them before I came in the picture, although this one does like to think otherwise."

Killua just gave her a deadpan look, but she was completely unabashed. "You speak as if we were drooling toddlers before you took us in."

"You might as well have been," she retorted, not letting the fact the she wasn't even half of Killua's height and had to shift her gaze all the way up to even get a decent look at him stop her from taking him on. "I'd like to have seen you two get through Greed Island in the shape you were back then."

Killua scoffed, looking at me, knowing well that I had no idea what she was talking about and whose fault it was. That little moment did wonders to flame the fires of my anger, although as an onlooker, you would have thought I was simply curious about the conversation at hand and nothing more.

"You must have heard very different accounts from him about all of that," she guessed, turning to me. For a moment I did consider simply faking a smile and nodding, but screw it, I wanted to throw this secret-keeping asshole under the bus.

"Uh, no actually, I've hardly heard anything," I admitted, looking right in Killua's eyes to see if he had any spec of decency to feel a little embarrassed. But to no one's surprise, he looked just as unaffected and shameless as he always did when we breached the subject.

Bisky's eyes widened slightly. "Killua, I was sure you'd be over your tendency to gate-keep by now. As I remember it, holding things in never did you much good in the past," she reprimanded, with echoes of shared experiences between them that I had no part in and no knowledge of whatsoever. My Killua rage meter was in a frenzy.

Killua simply crossed his arms. "I don't think relying on your memory is a good idea. I hear the brain starts to eat itself once you cross the one-fifty mark." These words had just made their way out his mouth, and in the next moment Bisky had a fist-full of Killua's hair in her grasp and the boy was bent all the way down to her height with an expression of agony painted all across his face.

Not only was I absolutely shocked at the sight, because seeing Killua outsmarted and pushed around by anyone wasn't something I'd ever thought I'd get to experience. But also, I had finally picked up on the strange and unrecognizable energy between the two of them: Killua was afraid of Bisky, and even though that might have been at a very minute extent for all I knew, putting the words Killua Zoldyck and fear in a single sentence was some forbidden-level shit.

"The hair—the hair," Killua warned, all while struggling to get out of her grip. "Alright, I'll behave."

The next second he was released and looked incredibly flustered. The man was very serious about his hair, but I was guessing Bisky knew that well when she went for it.

A secret, evil part of me was delighted on obtaining some little semblance of revenge on him. While I made a point of hiding my glee for the sake of my man's self-respect, Gon had materialized right next to me and had no intention whatsoever of hiding his.

"Finally. Where the hell were you?" Killua asked Gon in the most exasperated of tones.

"I'm here," Gon countered, without really answering Killua's question. The query itself was meant to be rhetoric but Gon's unusually secretive manner had me scanning his face alongside Killua.

"You don't say…" Killua mused suspiciously, being generous with the helping of sarcasm in his voice.

Tactless and naïve as he was, Gon only attempted to keep himself from meeting his persecutor's gaze. Being an expert at hiding things, I felt very strongly that I was in the presence of a rookie.

I was pretty sure I wasn't the only one who could see the hint of pink that was threatening to overtake his face.

This only piqued Killua's curiosity in the matter further, and he would've had Gon in a chokehold over the matter if Bisky hadn't interrupted with a rather loud clearing of her throat. I knew even then that Killua wouldn't let this go that easily and would circle back to it again, no matter how near or far in the future that might be.

Despite being with these two boys for a bit now, there were still many instances where keeping up with their motions was hard for me. Which is why it made no sense how when Bisky suddenly raised her finger, both boys shouted "SEVEN!" only to be informed that they were a tad too late. For what I wasn't sure, all I knew next was both of them dropping to the floor, following orders of completing a hundred push-ups each.

About fifteen minutes or so later, the scene in the living room had taken a turn. The atmosphere was solid and serious. Everybody had shifted their stances to address the matter they were really there for.

Killua presented Bisky with the now-notorious flash-drive, and both boys followed this up by regarding her silently, their arms folded on their chests, like it was some routine they had practiced beforehand.

All of this, of course, didn't really include me. But, I was not-so-graciously 'allowed' to stay by Killua in exchange of a promise to not interrupt. Joke was on him, because if he didn't know by now that I was physically incapable of minding my own businesses, that was on him.

"Hm," Bisky pondered, turning the little object around in her fingers aimlessly. "I understand…" she announced. There was a collective draw of breath by everyone else, because it was almost pulpable how important what she said next would be. "You two are idiots," she remarked simply after a moment.

Killua face-palmed in irritation, and I honestly just bit my tongue to keep from laughing.

The cup of tea in front of her now held her complete attention. "You had to wait for a non-nen user to tell you that there is a shit-ton of powerful nen in this thing?" she demanded, gesturing towards me, as she stirred the sugar in her beverage.

Both boys simply blinked in return, clearly in agreement with the claim about their intellect. Though Killua would rather pluck out his own eyeballs than admit to it. Come to think of it, Bisky's statement made me question the same thing too.

"It's not like that," Killua answered, a bit flustered, and clearing his throat unnecessarily in a play for time. "The nen isn't in the flash-drive per se, it's in the data, so joining the dots was tricky there."

"Huh, weak excuse," Bisky dismissed brutally with an annoyed wave of her hand. "What you need to know is that this isn't just some powerful person's nen in here. This is coalescence." After this vague statement, she picked up her teacup and put it to her lips.

This was followed by a bout of silent anticipation, in which she peacefully sipped her tea. I could only imagine how infuriating this was for Killua.

"And that means?" he pressed through gritted teeth, gesturing in a cyclical motion with his hands.

I realized that Bisky knew very well how to push Killua's buttons. He absolutely loathed waiting for things without real cause, and she was really milking this one. I couldn't blame her, I had to admit there was some secret pleasure in the idea of besting the asshole who always got his way, for once.

I had to pretend to scratch my nose in an attempt to conceal the smirk that I was fighting. One side glance from Killua that lasted exactly a micro-second was enough to tell me he knew me too well. Oh well, I didn't really try.

"You haven't heard of coalescence?" she stalled, making sure her tone simultaneously belittled and annoyed Killua to the depths of hell.

"You feisty old prune…" Killua muttered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. The fact that he simply couldn't say this out loud was delightful to me on more levels than I could explain. "Lady, if we knew what that was, would we really be here asking you?"

Bisky simply cackled at that.

"Bisky…" Gon pleaded, looking between her and Killua with concern. "He'll implode."

"Alright, alright," she relented, brushing her hands over her lap in an unnecessary dusting motion. "It means that this nen-packed 'data' that you're referring to does not belong to one person alone. It is this powerful because it is the amalgamation of the nen of several people. Tens… maybe more, one can't be too sure," she explained, moving a finger side to side, like she was really teaching a lesson.

From the expressions on Killua and Gon's faces, I concluded that this was a shocking discovery, and not something that could simply be digested as fact.

"An amalgamation of nen? Nen can be… combined?"

She sagely nodded, and only offered the words, "Greed Island."

Killua went temporarily motionless over that information. While Bisky's words made no sense to me, I knew that it was a completely other matter for the boys.

"This means…" Gon started, trying to decipher the possibilities that this new piece of information had brought into the open. "…we're going to have to match it with an equal magnitude of nen power to access that data?"

"It's not that simple," Bisky corrected. "Firstly, coalescence isn't something you can just jump into— it's a skill, and requires plenty of training to get into. Secondly, coalescence is bound by a series of rules."

This broke Killua free from his trans and had him fixated on whatever came out of Bisky's mouth next.

"Coalescence demands harmony and a flow between the people coming together to perform it. But above all, it is bound by the affinity that each nen user has for another aura type. For instance, as a transmuter and enhancer, both of you are close in compatibility to leverage a lot out of coalescence, but as both transmuters, you and I would be most suited to get the most capacity from it."

All of what Bisky explained was Greek to me, but putting two and two together, I came to the conclusion that Killua was a transmuter— whatever the hell that meant.

"So ideally, we'd have to stick to Emitters and Conjurers as the farthest of options, and closer to our own nen type as a priority," Killua concluded, always being insanely quick with detangling things.

"Bingo," Bisky confirmed, a small smile making its way to her lips. Despite the tinge of friction in their dynamic, I could tell she felt motherly and proud towards Killua. It was nice to see, I didn't know anything about his own mother, but I didn't imagine he got much of any maternal care from anywhere. "But before seeking others, you have to get yourselves in the right shapes to get through this yourselves."

"Agh!" Gon moaned, looking guiltily at Killua. "This is going to take forever."

"When do we begin?" Killua asked Bisky simply, dismissing Gon's silent apology like it was the most outrageous thing imaginable.

"Immediately," she dictated, and no more questions were asked. All I knew was that a new mission within their mission had just unearthed itself, and it was going to take a shit-ton of work for them.

"Hey," Killua whispered in my ear as he carried in the dishes from our dinner. I could tell he was in a really good mood from this morning, and the way he bumped hips with me at his greeting just went to show how so not up-to-speed he was with my current temper.

"Hi," I hissed through my teeth in the meanest tone possible, and went on to stuff more plates into the dishwasher, trying to overlook how I had basically just chipped an article from how forcefully I pushed it in.

Killua was no amateur, which is why he turned to study my face before eventually asking, "Is something wrong?"

I was just glad he provided me with an opening, because boy was I about to burst his bubble again today. "No," I responded coldly, making sure not to look at him like my dignity depended on it.

"Okay," he stated, pausing for a moment to scout the right words to navigate this dangerous territory. "I thought we were good this morning."

"Oh, we're good," I pressed, emphasizing the last word a little too much. Suddenly I was out of dishes and shutting the dishwasher door was the only thing left to keep my hands busy.

"You sure?" Killua probed, folding his arms in front of his chest now.

"I'm so good." I stood up and matched his demeanor.

He nodded a couple of times before making a very big mistake by saying: "So, it's one of those days for me."

I gasped at his manner and decided to approach the matter slowly, using threatening bouts of silence to my advantage. "You know what's funny?" I said after a beat, unable to not say what was bubbling at the tip of my tongue.

"Oh, there we go," he said condescendingly, sounding absolutely done. "No, Claire, I don't know what's funny, you know why? I don't work part-time as a clown or even as a fly on the wall that's up there discerning every demented little thought in your head."

His words were harsh, but he kept his tone leveled, and I knew that wasn't on my account. He would've despised nothing more than the whole party outside getting to hear us having an argument. There were very few things that Killua valued as much as his privacy, that much I could tell even when I was this angry at him.

"What's funny is," I continued, pretending like the last minute hadn't happened, "how I have to collect trinkets of little facts and random pieces of information that every girlfriend in the world should just know about their boyfriend from every other person that knows him."

"Claire, we talked about the voice," he warned with stern eyes, somehow managing to get me even madder at how he wasn't addressing the subject matter here.

I opened my mouth to retaliate but at that exact moment Bisky walked in to put her dessert plate down. "This mousse was amazing Killua, you have tell me the rec-!" she sang in praise, but stopped short when she saw both of our stances.

I used the hand I had raised on the verge of shouting to tuck my hair back, while Killua looked at her with a serene expression that would've betrayed nothing. "Chocolate's actually bad for seniors," he retorted, not looking the least bit swept.

Surprisingly, Bisky simply responded with a scoff and left. I presumed that this woman knew very well a spat between a couple when she saw one, and was impressed by how everyone but me was able to maintain composure with seemingly no effort.

"You," Killua snapped his fingers at me, meaning business, "in my room, this instant."

The authority in his voice gave me chills, and I found myself following through even though I didn't want to. There was only one of many ways this could go, and the worst of them would come about if held my ground right now. I sat shaking with anger on his bed, and he took his time coming in.

He rubbed his temples for a few seconds before speaking. "Look, I'm only going to ask this once, and I want a straight answer from you."

I just turned my head to the side, figuring this was the most obvious way to communicate my position.

"Are you pregnant or something?" He questioned, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly while trying to retain the stony quality of his gaze.

"What?" I screamed, thoroughly taken aback by his assumption. "No! Where is this coming from- what-"

"Because that amount of crazy Claire, oh my God, I can only presume it's hormonal," he discerned, looking on the verge of pulling his hair out.

"I'm not pregnant!" I wailed, in the kind of high-pitched tone Killua said was only audible to dogs.

"Then what the hell is going on with you?" he interrogated, walking up to sit down at my feet. "Honey, I've seen you drunk, I've seen you emotional, I've seen you mad, but this? This is just another level for one day," he declared, putting his fist on his palm like a stamp.

My mouth hung open at his description, and suddenly I was feeling less mad and a tad bit embarrassed. "I just— I hate how I know nothing about your life," I revealed, feeling my face heat up, "like how I have to learn from your friends that you lived in a mansion or pictures of you are worth millions."

He narrowed his eyes as he processed what I was saying. "Mansions? Millions? What's any of that to you?" he demanded, exasperated.

I blinked for lack of a better answer, because it was quickly dawning on me that I didn't think any of this through. "I just don't want to hear about your life from others, I want to hear it from you."

"You want to hear about my life? You're in it, you are it, you crazy woman." He had a hand clasped on his forehead now.

I was touched by his words, but somehow simultaneously offended too. "I mean your past. Why can't you talk about all of that with me?"

"Do you talk about your past with me?" he counter-questioned, pulling the rug from under my feet unexpectedly.

It was my turn now to be as frozen as he was this morning. "That's different—"

"Listen, let's not beat around the bush here, we have to have more respect for each other than that," he stopped me immediately, "I know you hide things, someone eight blocks away from here knows you hide things Claire, and I let you have it your way. But you can't whine about me not being open when you keep things from me."

That shut me up good, and by this point Killua was up and pacing around the room. "Listen, you want in on my life? I'll give you a first-class, all-covered, TMI ticket into it all, but only if you do the same."

My silence was all I could offer at that.

"I thought so," he muttered bitterly, stopping to stare me down. "And also, by the way, I would appreciate coming home and not having my head bitten off every once in a while."

I cleared my bangs out of my eyes. "I will tell you, just not right now," I mumbled, providing an answer too late, but wanting to say something about it nonetheless.

"Great, then that's when we'll both talk." He exhaled loudly before adding, "You should think about how stable what we have can be with us tucking lots of who we are away like this."

I had actually never thought of it that way before, so I could only drop my gaze in unease.

"Let's break this up, you have an early day-" he began after my silence appeared to have to end.

"You're breaking up with me?" I whisper-shouted, tears pooling in my eyes immediately.

Killua's eyes widened at my reaction. "No, I'm not breaking up with you, no one's breaking up with anyone," he clarified, dashing to my side as soon as the tears came out. "This is a little fight, nothing more," he reassured, wiping my cheeks with his sleeves, a ritual with us it seemed.

"That one was on me," he admitted, trying to cheer me up, "poor choice of words I'll say."

"How do you do it?" I eventually asked, once things settled down a bit.

"Do what?"

"Handle arguments without ever relenting to me," I observed, feeling my head bobbling up and down in sheer wonder. "I always come out feeling like I've won, but then I realize that you haven't given anything up, at all."

Killua raised his eyebrows, a sinister smile creeping to his face. "You forget that I used to be an assassin," he said for the first time ever to me, before adding, "I wouldn't be anything if I wasn't good at evading."

This was a rather interesting piece of information from him, and when you got an insight like that from Killua, you have to burn it into your brain.

"Besides," he continued, gently running the back of his fingers through my hair, "I don't negotiate with terrorists."

I groaned, pushing him back.

"I really want to see how far you can take concealing things from me," he challenged, moving to his side of the bed, talking as if it was more of something he was stating to himself. "Of course I strictly mean past things," he clarified after a second of silence.

The change in his tone had me whipping my gaze in his direction, almost as if I was compelled to do it. His eyes had an almost terrifying look to them when he further said, "Hiding things now would be unforgivable." His voice had lost even the slightest touch of humor, and the last word out of his mouth rang in my ears for several seconds.

My heart paced abnormally, in sync with the question taking over my mind. Did he know? I gulped, realizing that if he did, we probably wouldn't even be having this conversation… or any conversation at all for that matter.

I briefly experimented with the idea of coming clean with the two secrets I had swept under the rug. Neither the scenario of Caden being in my life in some capacity, nor the meeting with my brother seemed harmless enough to be brought out into the open.

The experimentation was over as quickly as it had begun, and the only thing I felt brave enough to do was pull the sheets all the way over my head and shut my eyes, forcing sleep to come. The irony of the ostrich parallel wasn't lost on me as I did this.

Seeking clarity into me, I find that an aberration,

Keeping him at an arm's length— the weakest foundation.