One word. Kalluto didn't know why he said it.

He definitely didn't know how he'd ended up holding Killua's left wrist.

But no matter what had happened, he knew perfectly well that what he asked was impossible.

"Stay."

Killua laid his right hand over Kalluto's. Neither a question nor an answer. "I can't."

Paper, but he was tired of that response. A constant reminder that the power he wielded was never really his.

"Do you love me?"

Caring is nothing more than a lack of apathy, and despite appearances, Kalluto knew that Killua was not apathetic toward him. Therefore he cared about him. But did Killua care about him in a positive way? Did Killua love him?

"I don't know."

It shouldn't have mattered. None of it should have mattered. The incident that started it all shouldn't even have mattered.

Now, though, he was in over his head, he had to do something, or everything would be lost... and yet, he only found the strength to repeat his original plea.

"Stay!"

No matter how inconceivable it was for his wish to be granted, the word was all he had.

"Let me go."

Somehow the words touched him as nothing else had, but still he felt himself tighten his grip, reflexive, uncontrolled. To establish a clear pattern of dominance over the target—

Finally, Kalluto remembered the reason they were in this situation. Killua had made that foolish mistake, and had later compounded it a thousand times over.

The strange instinct left him.

He didn't let go.

"Why should I?"

＊＊＊

Killua had to leave. He didn't have a choice about that.

If telling the truth was the only way to escape, then that is what he would do.

"...He wants me... to kill for him... no, with him."

Killua hoped that Kalluto would understand the real message behind the broken words.

"So... I can't stay..."

Still... I don't want to leave...

"I'm sorry."

I'm sorry.