Kalluto slowly unlocked the dark mahogany doors and slid into the room. For a few minutes he didn't move. He just stood there, eyes closed, a small, barely visible figure in what seemed like a sea of darkness. After he opened his eyes he looked around and took in his surroundings.

He knew every object, every single inch of the ground or the walls. Yet he stood there and observed and carved every detail further in his memory. It's not like there was much the contrary, there was only one king sized bed, situated in the midst of the room, hand made carpets on the floor and some family pictures on the wall. His brother wasn't a family man at all, so Kalluto imagined his mother putting up the pictures herself and making so much unnecessary remarks about the smallest details.

Kalluto inhaled deeply, smelling the typically odour that seemed to follow Killua everywhere he went. Kalluto has always wondered where it came from, because only Killua's stuff and Killua himself smelled this way, and it bothered him that he couldn't describe it.

But it was fading now, together with Killua's presence. He hadn't been home for months. last time he was here, his father had granted him freedom from the chains of their family, escaping the clutches of his destiny to become the most skilled assassin ever.

'Will our paths cross each other ever again?' Kalluto often wondered. The Zoldyck house seemed more grim than usually, his mother being more at edge, and his father making everyone's training insufferable.

He needed to do something. He absolutely needed his brother back. There's no way he's gonna let Killua abandon him. He is definitely bringing his brother back, even if he had to sell his soul to the devil himself.