Chapter Text
Alluka was his reason why.
She lifted the sun above the horizon and hung the constellations in the night sky. She colored the world with her smile, and her laughter gave life to the trees and flight to the birds; she was his heart, pumping blood throughout his cold veins.
Then, he met Gon.
If Alluka was his heart, Gon was his lungs. He didn’t know what it was to breathe until he met the green-haired boy. All it took was one deep breath, and suddenly, Killua was alive. He was never meant to be a person, never designed to love or hurt or smile. His training didn’t include how to be anything other than a tool. A cold-blooded killer. A monster.
Even after they separated, Killua still found himself expanding his lungs until they pressed against his ribcage, greedily taking all the air there was to take. Once he got a taste of breath, of life, he couldn’t let go. (And something told him that the thing that scared him most about being stuck in this strange place was losing that piece of life he’d come to cherish so much.)
Alluka was his reason why. And when she disappeared, Killua disappeared with her.
Now, in this world where the extraordinary is considered ordinary, and the ordinary is considered weak, Killua finds himself willing to do anything to find his sisters. To get back home. To let Gon know he was okay.
A man grovels on the pavement, snot and spittle mixing with the heavy rain.
“I don’t…I don’t know, I swear. Please . I - I have a family. My - my kids, they need me, please -” Killua grabs the man’s dark hair and shoves, smashing his face into the concrete. A stray tooth skitters into the alley’s opening. Streams of blood trail down his face. A familiar sick pleasure curves the corners of Killua’s mouth. A lifetime ago, the pain of others was the only thing that made him feel human. Will he ever not be broken? Can he be fixed?
Icy blue eyes carve holes into the man’s flesh.
“Please don’t kill me, I’ll give you anything you want - money? Is that it? Do you want money?” The pale hand gripping his hair shakes his head, as if handling a sack of potatoes.
“Talk.”
“ I don’t know, please, you have to believe me. Hell, the damn heroes know more than us-” Releasing the man, a hand comes down to his neck in a swift chop. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and the man goes limp. In seconds, the boy is gone, perched on a nearby rooftop. Noticeably, the man is not dead. He was getting sloppy. Or soft. Or human.
Later that night, Killua types away at a computer in an Internet Cafe. For nearly a year, he’s searched the depths of Japan’s criminal underworld. Whispers of uprisings against the “Symbol of Peace” and a “New Era” have reached his ears, but no one seems to know why or how. The logical explanation would be that they were bullsh*t, but if so, where were his sisters? The quirk trafficking rings were airtight, and each “villain” seemed to be terrified of giving information. Secrets seemed to uncover more secrets. Maybe it’s time to change tactics.
He scrolls down a list of “Top Twenty Best Hero Schools in Japan.”
Maybe it’s time for a new adventure. Adventure, huh? The idiot really has rubbed off on me.
The thought of letting Alluka down again, or Nanika’s powers being available to people like the rest of his family, makes him sick to his stomach.
He sighs, clicking on a link that says “UA Entrance Exam and Admission.” He’ll do whatever it takes to bring them home.
***
It’s dark.
In the basement at home, the walls were painted a happy sky blue. Her bed took up a third of the room, pink curtains draped around its perimeter. Toys and plushies littered the floor. The magazines and books Killua bought her were stacked neatly on a polished bookshelf.
Here, there’s the unmistakable cold of the underground, but other than that, Alluka shouldn’t mind. She’s spent years, like this, pressed against a wall, her knees tucked up to her chest. Sitting. Waiting.
She’s gotten used to the silence. Lived in it. Over the years, she’s found ways to bear it. Creating daydreams filled with the wonderful things on the outside.
Her favorite? Lying on her back, watching the stars light the sky like brilliant jewels. Sometimes, she’s in the grass, fireflies from her stories kissing her face. On especially good days, she’s in the sand, salty waves licking the shore.
Sometimes, she wishes she could fly away and swim amongst the stars with Big Brother. They’d hop galaxies and ride the constellations and travel to another Milky Way, far, far away…
The steel door creaks open, letting in a line of bright light. A man enters, steps cautiously measured, as if he were afraid the room would infect him. On his face, he wears a mask reminiscent to that of a plague doctor. That’s what they’re called, right?
“We didn’t touch her, boss. Our… source says that she’s extremely powerful. A quirk never seen before in the destruction of others. Supposedly, there are certain conditions to be met, lest things end… unfavorably, for us, ” a voice, still behind the door, says. The Doctor nods.
“Keep her in containment, for now.” The door is pulled shut once again. Darkness envelops the room.
She knows it’ll be fine - Big Brother promised. He makes everything better.
Right?