Chapter 16: Killua and Aoi (part 2)

"Like a withering flower covered by your shadow, I slowly harden"—Ending Page, FX

"I am tired; I will catch you later-"

Aoi started to climb upstairs, with her takeout box. Kyoya was smart enough to pick something up on the way while she was asleep. The words startled Menchi greatly, but soon she realised that Aoi was exhausted—body and soul.

The wall clock on her room depicted that it was 10:45 PM. Aoi dumped her bag on the bed, put the food on the nightstand and started to unpack. As she slid the zipper of the duffle bag open and started to sort things out, she almost felt like a failure. She felt if she could open her mind and unpack all the tangles things in her mind she could have felt better—she could have felt relieved to think that something would make sense.

To think of that, she oddly remembers every word Killua said two years before:

"You stand at your door looking at the empty walls that you once called your home. Now think, the house was your mind and the stuff you had were your emotions and suddenly one day, they just vanish—you scream and scream but no answer comes—only the haunted echoes of your own voice. That hollowed house seems to crash on your head—a sense of endless nothingness makes you go around looking for those stuff in your empty house, but all in vain—don't you think its lot scarier"

At the back of her mind, she always thought what could have made him say that? At that time for a fourteen year old, it was really dark and frightening thing to say.

After a while, she realised that all the things she unpacked was piled at the center of the bed. She placidly looked at the mess and sank on the floor silently. She leaned against the leg of the bed and grabbed the takeout box from the nightstand. The smell of burnt oil, onion, garlic and other generic Chinese food only registered in her mind after she took a bite of the noodles. She avoided looking at the food. She wanted to get everything over with.

"Aoi—are you done, I coming in-" Menchi's voice could be heard on the other side of the door. After a sound of acknowledgement from Aoi, she came in with a tall smoking Japanese cup "here, have some green tea-"

"Thanks Chi-chan" Aoi took the tea and placed it on the night stand to cool it.

Menchi looked at the face of her best friend and observed the dark circles under her feline eyes. She couldn't understand what she could do to make her feel better. She was an extroverted, energetic tomboy who had a little experience with dealing emotions, to her it's rather out than in.

"You're a mess blueberry—"

The words came out unceremoniously from her mouth. The moment it did, she realised that perhaps it was not the best time for her to poke about. She cleared her throat and stood up, looking around the room: "you're a mess blueberry—let me help ya-"

"No really it's fine—I will sort it out later-"

But Aoi could not stop Menchi. Whatever she decides, she does it no matter what. Soon the heaping pile of clothes, books and daily usables were arranged all around the room. While Menchi was pacing up and down, Aoi reached for the emptied duffle bag and pulled out a box from one of its side chains. She slowly opened the lid of the white cardboard box and took out a frayed and blackened pair of blush-coloured pointe shoes.

"I remember this!" Menchi exclaimed and stomped across the room to inspect the thing in Aoi's hands. She raised her face up and looked at the shoes with a nostalgic smile, "last time shoes made this much chaos was in Cinderella."

Aoi couldn't help but to smile to that smart rhetoric of Menchi. No matter what was the situation she will have something on the tip of her tongue to spice it up, something Aoi can only dream for possessing. "Yes," Aoi admitted "The last of its' kind." She held up her shoes a little above from the eye, admiring the last specs of craftsmanship from the scrapped out satin layers "They don't make them like that anymore."

Menchi looked at the frayed shoe with a strained look, as if she was trying to understand the significance of that piece of footwear "So much legwork for these pair of rockers!"

"Ne, Aoi they are just shoes. Just shoes right?" Menchi was hunching on Aoi, who sat with her naked and bruised feet stretched in front of herself. It was beyond her why her friend was so worked up by a piece of footwear "You'll get another pairs of them. This is Yorkshin for God's sake; you cannot not find anything here." Menchi did what any good friend at an unfamiliar situation was supposed to do: give a generic consolation, handed down from elders to the young for generation throughout the time.

"Chigau-yo Chi-chan, kore wa futsu no shoes ja nai. Kore wa ballet shoes." Aoi could feel the blood boiling under her skin but she couldn't bring herself to burst on Menchi. A sense of frustration was already draining her, with the fact that the problem was so personal even her best friend was unable to understand "There are only five brands in the world and Freed medium box is my custom fit. Custom fit is not something a dancer can throw away out of the window—it took six months for me to find this shoe—I cannot do a new shoe, the competition is in three days." She slowly bent her waist and sunk her face in the knees. Her naked back, showing through the v-cut of the pink leotard stretched with all its muscles and bone definition.

Menchi stood up and her eyes were upon Aoi. She looked dishevelled, sweaty and tired—some features which Menchi rarely ever saw in Aoi's well-put together, generally feminine appearance. "Alright, alright... I will make some calls" Menchi patted Aoi on the back with a pretended reassurance, hiding her own uncertainty, "Mattaku kono brand wa! They had to discontinue the line this week."

Menchis stomped out of the European Classical club room as Aoi sat disappointedly on the floor. The afternoon sun was flooding the room with golden-orange light, the light which was her favourite to dance into. But today she couldn't enjoy it. Her eyes were fixed upon on her knee and she tried to bend her mind around that the blackened torn ballet shoe that was lying on the floor was the last piece of her brand. To her, a dancer, those shoes were the extension of her own feet—the firm platform that pushed her to fly on the stage. And now, when she most needed them, they were gone. Her blisters hurt more than usual, and the muscle ache patches weren't doing anything today. Her emotion was making her lose control over the body

"Maybe I should give up— maybe I should give up on the competition!"

...

With the fall season, Illumi made a lot of traditional Japanese fish for the dinner table. Kurapika was muttering the Theory of Music while he picked his sea bass; he looked like a stressed old woman muttering curses at other people. Sharlnark who sat at his right pretended like his twin brother didn't exist and Feitan who sat at his left looked like he was ready to strangle Kurapika to death. Chrollo was throwing silent daggers at Feitan and looked mildly proud with his brother's dedication with Music. Hisoka, Omokage, Kite were out for business which made Milluki stress free. He did his calculus munching on his dinner: optimising his time before his semester. While the dinner table went on, Leorio continued to eye Killua, sitting on the opposite, who barely nibbled his favourite smoked salmon. Before he could properly ask if his stomach was upset, he left the table with his meal unfinished.

Like a lot of people, working in a high stressed job, Leorio liked to have a smoke or two after dinner. As he climbed the stairs he saw the door was already unlocked and someone with a hoodie on leaned towards the front. Leorio smiled a little and patted his brother kindly on the shoulder. "Coco, you're quite down today, Nanika atta no?" Leorio joined him with a friendly smile.

"Betsuni..." Killua drawled under his breath while hiding behind the hoodie.

Leorio leaned towards his brother a little more, almost towering over him. He cleared his throat and with an unusually serious tone addressed Killua: "Coco, I know something is bothering you. I know something has been bothering you for a while—what it is?"

Killua paused for a moment, looking at his brother's face which looked tired and worn out after a day at the hospital. The lights of the city reflected on his glasses and hid the seriousness of his genuine warm eyes. The cigarette stood between Leorio's index and middle finger with a tall wobbly tower of ash suspending on it. Killua looked away from his brother, feeling a little uneasy with such a head-on enquiry: in this house, his feelings are rarely a topic of discussion amongst the elder brothers.

"It's nothing really. I was thinking how stupid can you be to give up at the final moment." Killua felt himself blurting out of nowhere. Leorio looked at his brother for a couple of seconds; his warm eyes inspected his brother's face with a nostalgic look, as if he was remembering his own teenage.

"Ah, it happens all the time when you start out." He said with a mischievous smile, trying not be insensitive about it, "You'll get the hang of it with age and practice—it's nothing to feel stupid about!"

"What are you talking about?" Killua looked at Leorio with a strange frown on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Leorio replied with a slight heat "It's obvious ain't it! You're not lasting long right?"

"What's that came from?!" Killua blushed, "I haven't—ew, Reolio-nii you're gross-" he shook his hoodie off as he turned on the opposite side. Leorio laughed at the little antic of his brother and waited for him to open up "It's not about that,—it's a girl in school..."

"Oh, it's a girl eh?" Leorio said with a know-it-all smirk "see I wasn't completely off the point!"

At his statement Killua flushed so hard that he practically glowed red."No—not like that it isn't—just listen." Killua looked down from the rooftop towards the garden. The garden looked like it belonged to some yellowed photograph from the turn of the century; dark, dull and sepia-like. He never gave it quite a thought since horticulture weren't his thing, but he really wanted to see some bloomed flower at this moment, even if it was small. "This—girl—"he tried to arrange his thoughts "is a dancer and I sort of bumped into her in the summer break and started to talk. Today when I went to her clubroom she and her friend looked like they were in a really odd mess, and she started crying that she won't make it to the competition because she can't get her shoes."

That last bit came out sour to Leorio's ears for a really odd reason. When they were really young and their parents would have to attend some tiresome fund-raising, Palm would always scream at her assistant for not fetching her perfect pair of Prada or Louiboutin. Until very recently he realised that these 'rich-people –problem' was no longer funny tales of hissyfits. "Like, can you imagine? You practice for months for a thing and just forfeit because they don't have your brand of shoe?"

"So what's your point, Killu?" Leorio's smile was fading slowly.

"Like how shallow can you be? You'll just throw everything away just because you can't get your shoes?" Killua let out a mocking laugh, and Leorio understood that he laughed for the same reason he was being bothered, but he kept his silence and reminded himself that his brother was far too young. "I mean there are thousands of shoemakers in the city. I mean, I have seen classical artists and stuff. It's not like you'll stop playing violin if you didn't get a strad! What's this madness?" Killua stopped.

"Aren't you being a little judgemental?" Leorio asked gravely.

Killua was not expecting this kind of reply. He imagined that Leorio would laugh it off like he always did, like he did when his mom would throw a hissyfit with her Met Gala gown, or when he takes Palm shopping. He imagined him to comment something misogynistic. His electric blue eyes crinkled with confusion "What are you saying—I am being judgemental?"

"Yes, you bloody are." Leorio said firmly, "it's funny to laugh at those things from the sidelines. It's really, really funny to laugh at the person who makes a fool out of little things. But when the spotlight's on you, when you know that your every move will be dissected and autopsied, it's bloody hard." Leorio gulped, "I used to laugh at Palm when she used to fret before her first lead surgery, but when I held the knife for the first time as a lead—I understood what she went through." Leorio turned to his brother and stubbed his half-smoked cigarette, "you friend might be this close to her goal—and now with an element short she must have been freaking out! Coco, people are amazing. They can evade legions of problems and can't get past the fact that their favourite brand of candy got discontinued—remember?" Leorio cast a meaningful glance at Killua, who turned glowing red.

"Da-ka-ra... you don't have to remind me of that! It's goddamn embarrassing." Killua bellowed.

"Language!" Leorio slapped Killua's back

"You swear all the time-" Killua sulked.

"Because I am a grown-up" Leorio slid Killua's hoodie off and grabbed him in an armlock, the cold night air of the fall resonated with their laughter and hollering. The speckles of the warm sounds reminded Killua that not everything in the world was twisted and cold. The smell of the cigarette still lingered on his hair where Leorio ruffled him. Perhaps it was Leorio's armlock what Killua needed, more than anything else—he barely remembers his father, and somewhere at the back of Killua's mind, the image of his father was always Leorio.

The morning brought a world of anxiety to Aoi. She could barely write anything and she didn't even eat despite Menchi's imploring. She felt all her hard work had gone to waste. When school was over, she sent a word to Madame Olga and took a leave from her club. She had no courage left to go back there and practice her piquets and fouettes—knowing that there was no point in that.

The setting sun of the fall always looked gorgeous from the entrance hall. The tall boxes of shoe lockers created such a beautiful tall shadow that the room looked like a scene cut out from a movie. But Aoi could not look at that today, lest she sees her own shadow and remembered the way she moved. She reached for the handle locker with laden hands to replace her indoor shoes with her leather mary-janes. Logically her shoes should be right there, placed neatly inside the empty space, but some light-coloured box was being balanced upon it.

It seemed like a cruel joke the way the box looked. Aoi's heart almost sank at the smooth pearly sheen of the ivory coloured box. She picked it to throw it away but it did not seem to be empty. Something hard rattled inside and along with it some fine paper rustled. Aoi removed the lid and threw away the light pink tissues and her fingers felt a familiar touch of satin. In the dimming fall sun, by some unexpected miracle, she was holding her custom pair of Freed Medium Box: size five, a little softer than usual—just the way she liked. As she tried to fathom if the shoes were real, she found something more in the box: a pair of satin ribbons matching the shoes, a pair of elastic and a small piece of paper which said:

"Don't quit"

Her eyes started to cloud, before she could see anymore, tiny droplets were falling on the smooth satin surface of the shoe.

"Do you think it was him?" Menchi asked Aoi somberly.

"I am sure it was-" Aoi caressed the blackened shoe fondly like it was brand new. "But only if he would have admitted-"

In a very unassuming quiet Sunday the York Shin Metropolitan Hall opened at 10 am to host "Osipova Interschool Classical Dance Competition", performers from all across the nation came to take part and the anxious parents and teachers scampered nervously from the audience' podium to backstage. The 18th century crescent stage displayed an austere banner and behind the curtains of the stage dancers brushed up their moved and accompanists tuned their instruments and went through the sheet music for the final time.

Amongst the jostling, a nervous white haired boy huddled through the myriads of antsy and tensed people and found someone wearing the uniform of his school.

"Is Aoi Tanaka san here?" he asked to a blonde short haired girl, who was pacing up and down with the sheet music in her hand. She didn't look too happy seeing Killua.

"She is still in the Green Room—she can't come out now." she said curtly after softening her frown. She dialled her phone, perhaps to exit the conversation "Excuse me—Ryo-chan...Where are you, we go up on stage in 30 minutes" she answered irritably pressing a finger in her opposite ear "—HEH! WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS!" even in the midst of the crowd, Killua could tell she got her panties in a bunch "Please Ryo-chan, please say you are lying. No this cannot happen—if Madame Olga knows—okay, there is nothing we can do now...okay I'll inform her rightaway" She pushed Killua away to call her instructor "Madame, Madame excusez moi..."

"What's the matter?" Killua asked out of both concern and curiosity, and this time the annoyed expression of that girl was filled with pure worry. She looked like she could burst into tears anytime.

"Mine-san is at the hospital now, she had an accident while she was on the way—WHAT DO WE DO NOW, SHE IS THE MAIN VIOLINIST-" she said with a panicky voice.

Even though Killua had nothing to do with music or dance, the thought of the main violinist being missing churned his stomach. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath "Can't you give proxy with other instruments?" he desperately asked to see even a little bit of hope.

The girl shook her head vehemently, verging on tears "It's a triad... Harpsichord, Contrabass and violin—WE DON'T STAND A CHANCE WITHOUT ANY OF THOSE" she bit her lips as she put her sheet music aside. She slowly sunk on the floor "...poor thing, she had been practicing for months—looks like she is done for-"

Suddenly, amidst the hustle and bustle of the waiting performers, heavy clacks of high heels could be heard. A black all figure of a stern gray-haired woman emerged from the shadows. "WHAT'S WITH THAT COMMOTION...?" Madame Olga's face was already stiffened with this unexpected setback. Stretching her posture she cautiously said "please keep your voice down. If words get outside we'll ruin our reputation. Understand?" She looked at the blond girl sitting with her knees bolted to her chest and smacked her shoulder hard, "behave yourself Yura-san." With her smack, like a jack in the box, Yura sprung out from the ground and straightened herself.

"Madame Olga, Madame Olga... is there anything I can do?" Killua asked nervously.

The matronly woman stared him down with her twinkling emerald eyes "If you can conjure a decent violinist now that will be good." A sarcastic smile appeared on her thin wrinkled lips "Can you?"

Killua's eyes brightened unceremoniously, but his face remained serious and neutral. He still swung between surety and uncertainty "If this is the case... then I think I can do something."

Madame Olga looked at Killua with a piercing look, trying to understand if it was a joke "What are you talking about?"

"It's Vivaldi's La Follia isn't it?" Killua's voice was raised; he almost looked angry "Baroque triad in D minor? I think I can play the violin part." Killua stated.

The rest of the accompanists around him looked like Killua was just hit by a bolt of thunder. Madame Olga turned livid "Don't joke around" she rasped, "You think I will let you bungle with my student's future? That will never happen."

"I understand your sentiments Madame, but I think I am the only chance she has right now." Killua looked square at her eyes "She had been working hard for weeks and I know how much it matters to her" Killua gulped and looked at his feet, trying to find words to define why he felt so compelled to do this stupidly impossible task "I learned violin when I was young and I know some basic pieces. I gave it up because I was told that I wasn't just good enough. But things change. I may not be as good as many but I learned from the best. Julliard Entrance Batch topper 2010, Chrollo Matsuhashi is my eldest brother."

He looked towards the stage where the last of group participants was exiting after their evaluation. Madame Olga clenched her jaws. She looked at Killua with positive disapproval. Soon the red velvet curtains fell for the interval of the next segment. Within ten minutes the curtain will rise and if Aoi could not perform, she will be scarred for life. Killua's eyes were fixed at the girl who just walked in an ominously simple white see-through shift. He saw the tiny crown insignia in the sole of the shoe when her feet went on her toes, and his eyes were fixed on the mesmeric up and down movement as she warmed up. Without the spotlight shining on her she looked like a ghost from 18th century as her alabaster skin was further enhanced with a towering white wig. Killua smiled as he looked at Aoi with the last attire of Marie Antoinette.

"I want Aoi-san to perform, so beg you Madame—let me do it."

Aoi's eyes glistened with the ghosts of the past "I still remember the sound. I knew from the first note it could not be Mine-san. The sound was so full of hopelessness. It depressed me-" her voice dropped as if she was living that moment of her on stage "Whoever was playing the violin was...unsettling-"

Menchi pursed her lips and looked at her friend "Aren't you thinking a little too much about it...?"

Aoi put the shoes down. She was quite for so long that Menchi almost thought that she offended her friend. The apology was almost on the tip of her tongue, but it didn't have the courage to come out. Aoi was staring straight across her eyes.

"Maybe I am—you know how I am don't you? Once things get inside my head it just keeps going round and round like a maze." Aoi answered quietly, "it makes no sense at all—why come to help me out of nowhere and disappear? You know Chi-chan, when the performance ended, he vanished on us. H didn't come up from the pit and he didn't even greet the judges—as if he wasn't there at all." Aoi tried to brings the words in her lips, the words she wanted to say, but they won't come. She felt she was at the dead end, she always felt at the dead end with Killua after that "I tried to approach him several times after that but he didn't respond—acted so cold that as if we never spoke." Aoi was familiar with the feeling of being left alone, it was her choice like always, but this time she was left alone arbitrarily. "Chi-chan, even when we were at home, he always avoided me like plague, like he hates me—but I don't know what I did wrong...what did I do to him?"

"Aoi, just calm down-"

"No chi-chan... I can't—I just can't. Things make no sense at all" Aoi sprung up on her feet. "He was my friend—he told me he was my friend-and is this how a person treats their friends?" Aoi grabbed her hair and stomped angrily, her eyes tearing again, "how could he leak the video—he ruined me—I have nowhere to go now... neither I can go back to the mansion, nor to school, nor to my dad-and this stupid thing inside me wants to forgive him." Aoi sunk on the floor again, "tell me Chi-chan, is it logical? Shouldn't I go up to him and strangle him to death—at least that's what people do, don't they?"

"I'm sorry I can't answer that-"

Aoi looked at Menchi with an increduled expression. However it soon softened "I just want to believe Killua-kun can't do that. I just knew him for four months—but I never felt that he was any less than decent. And whatever happened with him today—he didn't deserve that."

A whimper escape Aoi's lips.

"He didn't deserve that."

...

The time was past midnight. Apart from the night stuff members and a little bit of bustle in the ER, nothing much was going on. As his shift ended, Leorio put his robe down, put out his lenses and wore his normal rimless glasses and walked towards the East ward where Killua rested in the VIP bed. At the turn of the corridor, when he was about to get to the door, he saw the consulting doctor exiting Killua's room. Leorio spared no moment to ask "How's my brother?"

The old man looked at Leorio's eyes and breathed a prolonged sigh. He put his long knarled hands gently on Leorio's shoulder, his gray brows knotted in concern."About that Mr. Matsuhashi—" he said very secretively "do you think you have told us everything about your brother?"

Leorio's face suddenly turned into a bloodless pallor. It was a miracle that he could arrange top three world class cardiac and neurosurgeon within a few hours, but hearing this from one of them certainly didn't make him feel the greatest "I don't understand what you are saying-"

The old doctor breathed again and opened the door of Killua's room. The lights turned itself on and the night nurse who was attending Killua after signing three confidential contracts was being send off by the doctor. "The shrapnel are not the issue here Mr. Matsuhashi, something else is." He said in a slow and sympathetic voice "I don't think he was very well to begin with-"

Leorio bit his lips to stop them from trembling and to bring a little strength in his jaws that shook too much with the news "Please Doctor... I don't understand what you are saying. What is wrong with Killua-"

With a single movement, the old doctor removed the covers on Killua. The top of the gown was removed to reveal his stomach. Even thought the room had enough light to rival the daytime, Leorio had a hard time believing what he was looking at. The breath got stuck in his chest and he lost the ability to speak. The words he knew jumbled up and stuck at his throat.

"No way... this can't be true—these are..."

"Yes you are right" the doctor said solemnly "Cut marks, probably made from razor blades. It's all over the waist and thighs." He put Killua on his sides and some small round scabs ran through near the spinal cord, some healing some scarred "There are also some roundish marks near the back. We think they were made by stun guns" the old man pause to look at Leorio's face which looked contorted with pain and guilt. He gently put Killua under his covers and straightened the French tube in his hand "no matter how hard we are trying to revive him, he isn't responding very well. The shrapnel are out, blood is thinning—technically he should be better, but he isn't for some reason. So we ran some tests and-"

"And... what is it Doctor?" Leorio asked restlessly, not believing his ears.

"He is critically low on serotonin, he is practically running on emergency backup—you know what it means right?" the old man looked at Leorio with a piercing glance

"I am sorry Doctor—please I don't understand-"

"Killua has been diagnosed with Clinical Depression. He has no will to live."

A wave passed through Leorio's knees. He gripped the foot of the bed tightly to steady himself. At an instant he felt himself so old and weak that it made him scared for life. His mouth went dry and his well shaped neck suddenly turned pale with the tendons protruding out as livid ash colour.

"It can't be... no, no it can't be—he is just going through a moody teenage phase." Leorio had difficulty at looking towards his brother or the doctor "Killua is a very strong boy, mentally and physically. He has been tensed recently because of the Hunter Exam but all of us had been gone through that—"

"It's okay Mr. Matsuhashi. It is normal for you getting partial but I am sure that with the right treatment he will be well. But at first I suggest that you put him off the exam" The doctor asserted firmly

"But Doctor I don't think we have much choice at that-"

"Is that exam more important than your brother?" the voice of the doctor turned heated and raspy.

No word escaped Leorio's lips, he eyes was firmly cast down. Perhaps looking at his state made the doctor a little gentle than his authoritarian harshness "Listen Leorio, I know what your family is going through... and I deeply care for it, as a human being and as a Medical Hunter. Although the exam has no practical disqualification limits but your brother is simply not cut out for these. Hunter Exam is no joke-"

"I know doctor; you were the one who examined me." Leorio put off his glasses and squeezed the temple. The sides of his nose were already drenched with tears. The old doctor pulled a chair from the side of the bed and sat near his former student. He knew this Leorio, this innocent, gentle, empathetic, passionate man hasn't changed a bit from the time he was sixteen. Time has healed him splendidly and cured him the pain which was unwillingly inflicted by his own mentor. He threw tantrum, blamed the system but he never held a grudge against his teacher: he trusted the people he loved too much.

The aged hand slowly patted Leorio's back, like the ones of the father would to his son "And I am so very sorry that I had to terminate you. You would have made such an influential Hunter" he patted firmly on his back, trying to get his student back on track "anyway, let's focus on healing him for now—with your permission, I would like to put him on SSRI."

"As you like Doctor—Good Night."

Leorio quietly slipped from the corridor. The reporters were still camped at the entrance of the hospital, so he took the emergency exit to the underground parking and quietly drove out from the back entrance. He rolled up his windows and with bloodshot eyes with overflowing tears looked straight at the ever-bustling traffic of the insomniac city. The one hour drive seemed to be the longest 1 hour of his life.

As he parked his car in his house garage, he saw that the light of the open kitchen was still on. He wasn't surprised at that because it was always been that way. Until everyone has come home, Illumi or Feitan waits at the living room or in the kitchen to close the door. Despite the house's size, they never had any maids or servants; it was their family rule: when at least three sons will reach adulthood they will do their own chores in the house and the rest of them will join as soon as they were 14. This was the training they faced to prepare and humble themselves for the Hunter Exam. Their military upbringing sometimes asphyxiated the natural, organic relations of brotherhood.

The door was open as usual. The living room was dark and the bright white light from the kitchen illuminated the living room partially like ghostly moonlight. Leorio put his back at the sofa and slowly walked towards the kitchen to get some leftover food or a bit of a snack before going to bed.

"How's Coco—" a calm smooth voice came from the dark corner from the living room.

Leorio was startled at first, then looked at the source of voice. From darkness emerged the sharp and bright face of Chrollo, whose eyes looked sunken and forehead clammy. His pitiful expression made Leorio's blood boil. With firm pace he approached his older brother and-

Slap

Chrollo's eyes widened with shock and anger. In this household no one has ever dare to defy either their late father or the eldest son. The red mark on his cheeks stood like the red flag of rebellion. He looked at his brother with bloodshot eyes and saw Leorio's eyes were contorted with hate and anger "You have no right to ask that. Killu is here today because of you—of what you put him through."

The authoritative anger in Chrollo wanted to pounce over Leorio, but years of control taught him better. Ever so calmly Chrollo said "what did I do to him? Leorio, behave yourself-"

"what? What did you say? 'What did I do to him?" Leorio sniffled after speaking in one breath "Killu is lying in the hospital with no will to live. He is clinically depressed and harming himself for a while. Why don't you just stab him and end the game-"

Chrollo steps inside the kitchen light a little. There was some fine dark lines already around his face and eyes. His lips looked dry and smaller when he pursed his lips and his jaws were tightened. Chrollo and Illumi, as much they looked different, they were quite the same in many aspects, and the first one was their stoic nature. Illumi was overtly more deadpan than his older brother therefore his was more obvious but Chrollo was different altogether. He hid behind a patronising expression that looked more ominous than Illumi. Leorio hated this face, as if his brother knows something that he doesn't.

"Do you think I have a choice?" Chrollo rasped with a low, threatening voice "Do you think any one of us has a choice? I always tried to be the good son, and what it gave me? I was dragged off my dream into a calculated failure because our family..." his voice shook at the end of the sentence "So I obeyed Grandpa and paved the path for Killu to take over, smothering my brothers' dreams in the process—do you think I like that?"

Leorio never heard something so personal from Chrollo before. He, Illumi and Hisoka, the eldest three, they always had a special bond since childhood. Even amongst brothers, they were these "ideals" that they have to achieve—they were like some distant legends without flaws or feelings. He was quite taken aback, but he replied.

"I don't know, maybe you do. We all know what you and Illu-ni and Soka-nii are—you were the championed ambitious ones with the 'world domination' dream that I always felt short to. Not only me but Milluki, Kite, Kura-chan, we all felt like that. With dad and mom absent, you guys acted like them but in actuality when it mattered you were simply not there. YOU COULD HAVE SAVED US OF THIS REJECTION"

"And what good it would have done? Breaking the system, passing the exam, entering the enterprise?" the same patronising smile was gracing upon Chrollo's lips. His obsidian eyes looked colder than ever; it was unfazed, like everything was going on by some divine instruction and he had nothing to do with any of these."The Hunter Corporation exists and powerfully so because of these rules. I am a Matsuhashi, and I will do everything to keep my family on top, even if it means I have to sacrifice my own happiness and that of you."

Leorio could take no more. He pushed Chrollo out of the way and stomped his way through the stairs to his room. Chrollo stood still for a while, looking at the stairs with ambiguous expression, and then he stepped out of the kitchen, turned off the lights and locked the front door. His experienced feet knew to find the couch in the living room, where he reclined for a moment. He really wanted to play his Stradivarius, but caution was the utmost concern now. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and dialled a private number. The owner of the phone picked it up promptly. A green light radiated from Chrollo's cellphone and it highlighted the high points of his face with a skeletal pallour in the pitch darkness of the living room.

"May I speak to you for a second, Doctor?" Chrollo said softly and paused for a little, perhaps to break the inevitable. "Does he know?"

"Excuse me; I don't understand what you are saying?" a heated reply could be heard from the other side.

Chrollo breathed softly "Does any one of my family or outsider know it except me and you?"

"No."

Chrollo sighed a relief that was too minute to be heard from the phone "Good and you must keep it that way."

"But for how long? Sooner or later your brothers will find out what Killua is."

"I will take care of the paperwork. You shall be compensated handsomely-"

"It is not about that." The speaker replied anxiously "I have tried to hide this from Leorio but not for long. The reason Killua is not responding is because he has angioedema; the shrapnel triggered it and his heart is slowing down—it's hereditary and has no reason to occur without defective gene. Sooner or later he and Leorio will find out that he was of an incestual birth-"

"Then do whatever you can to hide it, fire Leorio if you must—I don't care."

"How cruel of you Chrollo-kun, you do not even your brother's health?"

"He's a Matsuhashi, he'll pull through. He always does."

SSRI: Serotonin therapy for severely depressed.

Angioedema: a disease (sometimes caused in the children born out of incest), in which organs and skin swell up with fluid.

I want to make this dramatic as well as romantic. I was thinking I could experiment. I am running things very late and I haven't caught the 'Last Mission' and stuff, so I am working on that. I am glad that the stats are better since the last chapter. Thanks for everything. Read and Review please.