Chapter Text
An ocean of trash.
…or at least, that is how a pair of black unfeeling eyes saw all the people gathered in this dark underground tunnel.
His nose twitched. The whole place reeked, both of stale air and desperation. Every face painted with a hint of stress. Murmurs and small conversations buzzing like insects in the crowd, small fights that started and died as soon as they began…everyone was both afraid and eager for what was about to come.
In this gathering, where any one of the participants could be considered a monster by normal human standards, stood a figure that contrasted with all the men and few women around him.
A child. Wearing a dark kimono with a flower pattern, long lashes casting small shadows across pale cheeks, the only color on his face belonging to carefully applied makeup. He was beautiful in the way porcelain dolls were beautiful…which was to say not like anything living at all.
His face was like a mask, painted lips pressed into a thin line, with eyes like deep pools of pitch that betrayed no hint of emotion. And behind them—Kalluto Zoldyck was extraordinarily bored.
This had been too easy. Kalluto thought. From finding this place by following behind some of the more promising trash, to sneaking in unoticed…for a moment he remembered his big brother's words ‘Hunters are kinda strong I guess.’ ...which honestly was the highest praise he had ever heard from Illumi.
But this… this exam hadn’t even begun and it was already full of disappointments. Among all these people, only two were worth something. The bizarre ninja who’d screamed something about his kimono before quickly losing interest…and the other one.
Illumi had mentioned that a ‘friend’ of his would be here. It was the first time Kalluto had actually heard that word before from his lips—honestly it might be the first time he had ever heard it from his family all together.
He recognized Hisoka instantly. That scent of fresh killing, that overwhelming aura…it may have reminded him of his brother, but while Illumi’s aura was chilling and deadly, that man’s was toxic and slimy, like a fly trap begging for you to get stuck on it.
The clown had given him a single lingering smile upon noticing him, as if acknowledging exactly what he was.
Which, even though Kalluto wouldn’t admit it, maybe was the reason why he stationed himself at the farthest possible point from him.
“U-um, young lady?” A voice stopped his train of thought. The bean-shaped creature who had handed out number plates earlier was slowly walking towards him. “You need to wear your number on your chest, miss.”
“I refuse.”
“Eh?”
“I refuse. It’s ugly.” One look from the young assassin froze whatever argument the creature had prepared.
"O-oh, right… s-sorry about that." He stumbled backward a step. Then he seemed to remember that he was, technically, the one in charge here. "But if you don't put it on you'll fail the exam so…" He said it more like a plea than a demand.
"..." Kalluto stared at the creature for a few seconds. Fail. Much to the young boy's dismay, that single word was enough to move him. With visible reluctance, he pulled the plate from his sleeve and placed it on his chest.
The bean thing gave him a small bow and quickly fled to the elevator to wait for the last contestants.
Kalluto eyed the plate for a moment. 99…It really was ugly. His hands retreated again into the labyrinth of his sleeves , one benefit of wearing so many layers of ornate fabric was that it hid things remarkably well. Out of habit, his other hand drifted toward where his fan should have been—
Only to find empty silk.
“Tsk.” A soft click of annoyance. He had done it again…with gritted teeth he forced himself to remember the fact that he wasn’t allowed to carry his fan in this mission. And as most of the things in Kalluto’s short life, it was because of his mother.
Kikyo Zoldyck hated a lot of things, but above of everything was imperfection, if there was a single hair out of place, if Kalluto didn’t applied his make up correctly, a single fold in his dress…she would torture him for days, carefully administered of course, never enough to bruise the face.
Never the face.
Kalluto didn’t resent her. But right now he was irritated all the same. She had forbidden him from ever bringing his fan outside, insisting he shouldn’t display her techniques in public until he mastered them completely.
A tiny, tiny part of him really wanted to tell her that if he wasn’t allowed to use his fan dancing techniques, he could also ditch these traditional clothes and wear something modern, something cuter…but like always, he sat up and bowed his head.
Just like a good daughter should.
Now some of the contestants around him had noticed the number plate on his chest.
"Hey hey, look at that kid, is she actually a participant? I thought she was someone's daughter."
"Wait, that's a kid? I thought it was a creepy doll."
Kalluto's hand twitched inside his sleeve. He was used to being mistaken for a girl whenever he went out on missions with his family…but at least then he could enjoy killing the target afterward.
Right now he didn’t have that privilege. He didn’t know the rules yet, and while he could likely dispatch half the room without breaking a sweat…
Failure.
The word settled in his chest again, heavier than it had any right to be. He could not afford to fail this exam. His first solo mission.
Yes. He had been working and supporting his family in assasination contracts since he had the ability to remember, and killed more people than he could count, but this was different. Kalluto had always waited for this moment, the chance to prove himself…though the circumstances of getting his first actual solo assignment had been kinda bizarre.
First, his brother Killua had, once again, tried to escape from home, this time injuring their mother on his way out. She had recovered…a little too well, and she proceeded to immediately flee the mountain to retrieve Killua herself before their father could intervene.
Which had left Illumi in the awkward task of catching both a runaway little brother and a runaway mother simultaneously. And with their father and grandfather busy handling actual contracts. They had given the task of obtaining a hunter license to the youngest member of the family.
Remembering that still made him smile. They counted on him, they noticed his efforts…a warmth feeling spread through his chest. He was not like his other two useless big brothers who gave nothing to the family. Kalluto wanted to make Illumi proud. He wanted Killua to look at him differently and congratulate him for a good job when he came back…
So failing this joke of an exam wasn’t an option.
“Hey hey young girl!” Suddenly a smiling fat man came to meet him. “Oh man, so young and already taking the exam! It must be rough being here with so many adults.” His voice dripped with a sympathy so false it was almost impressive. “Name's Tompa! Here, I know you are feeling nervous, just why don’t you take this drin—”
“Poison.” Kalluto said calmly.
“W-what.” Tompa took a steep back, dropping the can to the ground. "How did you—?!" He tried to recover his smile and make some excuse, but Kalluto’s dead black eyes quickly made him lose his confidence. “Gezz.” The fake smile vanished from his face in an instant. He looked Kalluto up and down with open irritation . “Why are all this year’s newbies such freaks?”
With that, he turned and walked away.
Kalluto saw the unopened can rolling towards his feet. It truly was one of the most dangerous poison his mother had always warned him about.
Sugar.
The true enemy of beauty, and that no amount of training would make you resist. In a way Kalluto's diet was even more complicated than his actual formation as an assassin. By his own mother's admission, he needed to be kept underfed, both of calories and proteins, so his body didn’t grow the way boys should.
But Kalluto never complained. He ate what he was giving to and never asked for more.
But…his eyes focused on the can for a moment longer than he needed to. Then with a light tap from his feet he pushed it away from sight.
When was the last time he had tasted a sweet?
Killua once again came to mind.
Before his training. Before the dresses and makeup. Before Killua had gradually stopped talking to him completely. He remembered how his big brother had taken a candy from its pocket and pressed it into his hands. He couldn’t forget the smile that Killua gave him then. With a wink and a finger pressed to his lips, to make this a secret from their mother. For Killua, it was just the usual rebellion against his mother, but for Kalluto it was the first and last time he had even disobeyed her.
Killua... The last time they had seen each other was when he left the mansion. Kalluto had been there when his brother injured their mother, and Killua hadn't looked at him once. Not even for a second. Like he didn't exist.
He had never understood his big brother. Killua had been given freedoms Kalluto could only imagine, trusted with solo missions years earlier, the one everyone watched with expectation. Kalluto included. So why did he keep throwing it all away? Why the only one in his family he seemed to like was the useless Alluka?
Though Kalluto deep inside knew perfectly well why Killua wanted nothing to do with him. That part wasn't difficult to understand.
At the end of the day, Kalluto was just their mother's shadow.
The ding of the elevator made him come back to reality.
He’d heard it enough times since he arrived to know what followed; doors slowly opening, then a shift in the room’s tension as dozens of eyes snapped toward the newcomers. Every arrival was treated like a potential threat. Someone they might have to kill to get their license.
Kalluto looked too…mostly for the fact that he was still bored.
Three figures stepped out of the elevator…And the interest in the room died almost instantly. Just another trio of nobodies, no presence worth fearing.
Kalluto also dismissed them just as easily…though his gaze lingered on the smallest one for a heartbeat longer than the others. A boy. About Killua’s age.
…
He shook his head and looked at the ceiling, wishing for this to be over already.
All the examinees were, in every sense, masters, at the peak of human capacity compared to the average bystander.
And yet the vast majority of them were sweating and groaning as they ran, their muscles pained and sore asking for rest, and they were not able to tell when. Forty kilometers in the run, with darkness enveloping them, the exact same scenario repeating endlessly…each second felt like an eternity.
That's why some of them, after enduring this whole ordeal which could be considered mental and physical torture, lost all will to continue when a young girl in a long dress passed them without looking the slightest bit winded.
Kalluto, meanwhile, felt mildly annoyed.
Running? At this pace? This was the first trial? His wooden sandals made contact with the concrete below without making a single sound. A movement so perfect that with his long kimono made it seem he was floating.
Honestly the only hard part of this was being so slow. He had been chasing after his mother since he could walk, always struggling to keep up as she moved through the estate…though he had suspected, more than once, that she simply forgot he was behind her.
Completely oblivious to the other examinees losing their will just by watching him, he kept his pace in the middle of the pack, wondering whether there would be traps ahead. Not that he feared them, mostly he just wanted them to thin out as many of these people as possible.
Then he heard a voice behind him.
"Heyyy!" At first Kalluto assumed it wasn't directed at him. But the source kept getting closer. He could tell a great deal from the footsteps alone; small body, young, muscles strong for his age, still carrying plenty of energy even after the long run.
So Kalluto wasn't particularly surprised when he saw the green dressed boy, the only other child in the exam, he had noticed earlier appeared beside him, matching his pace without any apparent effort. What did surprise him was the smile. This one wasn't like the fat man from before. This one was genuine.
"I'm Gon!" He offered it without being asked, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Kalluto stared at him for a moment. "I'm twelve! Nice to meet you!"
The same age as Killua. The thought surfaced briefly before he set it aside. He said nothing.
Kalluto increased his pace instead. Fast enough to lose most people without making it look intentional.
How wrong he was.
Gon matched him without breaking a sweat. "Wow! How are you doing that? You don’t make any sound at all!"
Kalluto once again ignored him.
Then, surprisingly — nothing. Gon settled into the new pace and simply ran. No more questions. No attempts to fill the silence. He seemed entirely content moving side by side with someone who hadn't acknowledged him once, as though that was a perfectly reasonable arrangement.
Kalluto didn't understand it. But he wasn't being bothered for now.
So he let it slide.
"Heyyyy, Gon!" The voice of an older male came from behind them. "Are you making a girlfriend?" There was mockery in his voice, though the tiredness and heavy panting made it difficult to hear it clearly.
A girlier voice beside him immediately called him out. They began bickering, their words tangling over each other, fading into background noise.
Kalluto didn't turn around. Girl. Again. Of course — what else would they say? He had worked hard to appear as one.
His mother had wanted an heir to her techniques, and after five children without a daughter, she had simply taken the youngest, the most expendable, and made him one. Kalluto almost found it funny, in a grim way, that the only Zoldyck child who had wanted to be a girl was the one with an evil spirit living inside him. So now this was his cross to bear.
And the young boy didn’t actually dislike it, he was proud of his appearance. There was fun in his target thinking he was a small, little girl just to end up being killed slowly…also he liked to wear cute clothes.
But still. Something about being mistaken time and time again needled him.
"Umh?" Gon had glanced backward. "What do you mean, Leorio?" Gon's voice carried honest confusion, the kind that only a child could do. "He's clearly a boy."
...Kalluto's feet tangled.
It was barely a half-step. A single break in the rhythm that had been flawless for the past two hours, and it was correct just as quickly. Only someone like his mother could have caught on.
But it happened.
Kalluto stared straight ahead. His face revealed nothing. His heartbeat was perfectly controlled.
He's clearly a boy. But that echoed in his head. Kalluto did not turn to look. His face did not move. But his lips parted for the first time.
"...Kalluto." More a whisper than anything, and he almost regretted that Gon had heard him. "I'm...twelve." He didn't understand why did he lied with his age, and why did he told the truth with his name.
Much to Kalluto's dismay, he could see second by second how Gon's smile got bigger and brighter. "Nice to meet you Kalluto!"
Kalluto thought for a moment that he might have screwed up.
"Look at him, Kurapika." Leorio said it between pants, reaching up to drag a hand across his sweat covered forehead. He'd abandoned his jacket twenty minutes ago and it hadn't helped much. "He got the ball rolling and he's not letting it go."
The tiredness couldn't quite smother the pride in his voice at seeing his little buddy have game.
Kurapika looked at the two kids a little ahead. Gon was doing most of the talking, the other boy only gave back a word or two. He sighed quietly. "Shouldn't you be worried about your own pace?" It wasn't really a question.
"I'm dying here! If I don't distract myself I'm going to fall behind." Leorio waved a hand vaguely in Gon's direction. "Look at that. Look how smooth he is. He's getting a little more out of her each time. Reminds me of the method I used back home to catch girls."
"Him." Kurapika corrected while shaking his head. Maybe he should have a talk with both Gon and Leorio soon...he glanced at Leorio and immediately reconsidered. Lost cause. "And how many girls did you actually catch with that 'method'." The side eye Kurapika gave could have pierced steel.
"I-it's a work in progress!"
Kurapika was about to reply when they both noticed Gon slowing his pace, letting the kimono-wearing boy pull ahead before falling back to join them.
"Hey did something happen?" Leorio asked.
Gon shook his head. A smile still on his lips. "No. He just seemed like he was tired of talking. So I excused myself."
Kurapika looked at Gon with wide eyes, honestly he didn’t expect for the boy to actually know when to let go of a conversation, now he was the one feeling proud of his little buddy having a great emotional maturity. "Gon." He paused. "Never become an adult like Leorio."
Gon nodded seriously.
"I'M A TEENAGER TOO!"
He already hated this forest.
Kalluto's wooden sandals crushed the wet grass below with each step. The humidity made strands of his dark hair stick to his forehead…hair he had spent a considerable amount of time stylizing this morning mind you. Just being surrounded by all this fog made his skin crawl.
He walked at a measured pace, the pack of runners long gone in the distance. He didn't like that. He knew he wasn't in any real danger, but finding his way back to the examiner through this would be an annoyance he hadn't considered.
Still. He moved forward, deep into the forest.
The fog lifted gradually. The trees beside him thinned and gave way to a clearing, the ground dissolving into swampy earth dotted with puddles. In the center stood a solitary tree. And leaning against it, a clown.
As Kalluto drew closer, the sound of cards being shuffled grew steadily louder. He stopped. Illumi had told him Hisoka would help him, but he wasn't fool enough to simply walk up to this man.
Hisoka had a relaxed smile on his face. "Oh, so you got my invitation."
Invitation. Hisoka had directed such concentrated killing intent at Kalluto that he had barely been able to move. The message had been perfectly clear — follow me, or die.
Kalluto said nothing. Hisoka continued playing with his cards. All the sounds of the forest had gone quiet around them, as if predators in this forest knew by pure instinct not to mess with the clown.
"...Illumi never talks about you, you know." Hisoka turned a card over without looking at it. "He can't stop mentioning Killua, but his other brothers? Not a word." A smile stretched across his face. Repulsive. "I was a little curious when he told me you’ll be coming instead of him. But you're turning out to be pretty boring."
If this man thought that would hurt him, he was looking in the wrong place entirely. "What do you want?"
Hisoka stopped shuffling. He selected a single card. Studied it for a moment. "To have some fun."... And flicked it with his wrist. The card came faster than anything he had thrown at the examiner earlier.
Kalluto didn't blink. He deflected it with one hand…then looked down. It had drawn blood.
He noticed, a half second too late, that Hisoka was no longer in front of him. He quickly turned aroun—
A kick to the stomach. The air left him completely. He hit the ground on his hands and knees, spit mixing with the puddle beneath him.
"You'll understand when you're older." Hisoka observed him from above, his smile filled with anger."But it feels terrible when a man stands you up on a date."
Kalluto recovered fast. His hand shot toward Hisoka's throat —
— and was caught effortlessly. He tried to pull but he couldn’t move it. Of course Kalluto knew that the difference in power and experience was staggering, yet he kept trying. Pride or pure survival instinct he didn’t know. Hisoka leaned close. The smile did very little to hide what lived behind his eyes.
"If I killed you right now , do you think Illumi would come? Do you think he would care even a little bit?"
Kalluto's answer was his other hand driving toward Hisoka's neck. This one connected. Drew a tiny pearl blood. And the clown looked genuinely pleased about that, right before he kicked Kalluto again, harder, and Kalluto hit the mud once more.
"Nice." Something in Hisoka's expression settled. The madness didn't leave, but the anger behind it did. "I'm joking, of course. I'd rather not have Illumi wanting to kill me…not yet." He let that sit for a moment. "But you are truly boring. If you keep going the way you are, all that potential is going to rot."
Kalluto was going to kill him. He wanted nothing more than to drive his hands through his chest. He pushed off the ground and lunged again —
And couldn't move.
Hisoka shook his head. "This phase is too boring for people like you and me. And children can't grow up unless faced with hardships." His face illuminated as he got an idea. "So let me play examiner for a while, I’ll give you a proper first phase trial."
Kalluto pushed harder. His muscles could open a three-ton door without straining, but whatever was holding him now absorbed the force, tightening the more he fought it. Like elastic that grew stronger the further it stretched.
Hisoka crouched down to his level, smile widening. "It's useless~ Your family was right to prioritize physical training before Nen…but without it right now you are helpless."
The clown bopped Kalluto’s nose with one finger. He bopped his nose.
If Kalluto wasn’t clenching his teeth hard enough to ache he would have bit it off.
Hisoka raised that same finger and seemed to follow some invisible thread with his eyes. "He's still moving... and considering how dangerous this forest is even for experienced Hunters..." He closed his eyes, thinking for a moment. "Ten minutes. Ten minutes until the others reach the second phase. They'll probably allow five more after that for the slower ones."
He clapped his hands together once, as though now everything had been decided.
"In ten minutes my Bungee Gum will deactivate and you'll be free. If you don't make it to the second phase in time or if I’m wrong with the time…" The clown just shrugged "I'll just have to tell Illumi that his little brother was a disappointment."
Kalluto stared up at him with pure, undisguised hatred.
"I'm going to go play with my next meal." Hisoka turned, his silhouette already banishing in the deep fog. Only the sounds of cards shuffling remained. "Bye bye~"
…
Kalluto had not stopped struggling for a single second. His muscles were sore. His face full of mud and rage. Parts of his kimono and skin were bleeding from the constant force he was making against his restraints.
Then, just as the clown promised, when the ten minutes passed the disgusting substance that had been trapping his body finally lifted. Kalluto didn’t waste anymore time. With a step powerful enough to scatter the dirt beneath him, he launched himself to the very top of a tree before a single leaf could fall from it.
He looked around frantically. With widened eyes he realized that the entire scene had changed in those ten minutes. This damned forest had shifted and rearranged itself just to lose screw with him. He gritted his teeth. The veins on his hands and temples stood out like wire.
The rage building inside him was unlike anything he had ever felt. All directed to that bastard of a clown, to this shitty forest, to this unfair situation…he was gripping his hands so strong that a bit of blood ran through his dress.
Kalluto shook his head and narrowed his eyes. Five minutes, that bastard clown had said.
He jumped from the tree and began advancing. The young boy truly had absolutely no idea where he was or where he was meant to go. So he just went forward. Like a bullet through the forest, everything was destroyed on his path. Wild life that though they had found an easy snack were killed in a moment by hands sharper than any blade. The same trees that Kalluto could swear that were moving and changing position to confuse him were chopped clean the moment they stood on his path.
Meanwhile his mind was racing. Failure. He kept moving. The fog swallowed his path ahead and spat it back behind him. His hands were already bleeding, he didn’t know how much of it was his and how much was animal blood…
Then like an oasis in the desert, he saw a space with the fog thinned, even faster he forced his small legs to move forward. The fog slowly dispersed, getting thinnier and thinnier…just to find himself standing in the exact same clearing he had been moments before.
The tree in the middle like a giant middle finger to his entire efforts.
Kalluto stood there for a while and then— Like a puppet who had its string cut, Kalluto fell to the ground. In an instant, all the rage built inside him was gone.
The despair came in slowly. Like hands making his way through his body and freezing everything they touched, it started in his chest and filled outward until his whole body began shaking.
Failure.
He was going to fail this mission. His first ever mission. He was going to drag the Zoldyck name through the mud of this miserable, fog-choked swamp and there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do about it.
His hands gripped the wet mud beneath him. There were no excuses in the Zoldyck family, Hisoka might have screwed him but that was Kalluto’s fault for being weak. He truly didn’t know what was going to happen…the despair of the unknown future hit him harder than any torture had ever done.
Disappointment. He was going to disappoint his whole family. Marked as unreliable, not any better than his two useless brothers. No one noticed him anymore, no one…
Kalluto looked down. A puddle reflected him back.
He was a mess. His hair had come undone, strands plastered to his face with sweat and grime. His kimono was disheveled, one sleeve torn at the shoulder. He was covered in mud and dust. And worst of all, something he couldn’t feel until he saw it —
He was crying.
Small tears carved pale dark lines through his makeup, streaking it down his cheeks in thin, ruinous tracks, just to fall to the puddle. He had to bite down his lip to stop it from twitching.
For the first time in his entire life, the ten-year-old assassin actually looked like the little kid he was.
Despair gnawed through his thoughts as his eyes went blurry. I'm going to fail. The words repeated themselves without mercy. I'm going to fail. I'm going to fail. I'm going to—
"Kallutooo!!!"
His eyes snapped wide.
A silhouette in the fog.
He could hear the footsteps breaking down the wet grass under them. For a small quiet moment, he imagined his brother, Killua coming back just to save him, coming back for him and only him— then the fog parted.
The green kid, breathless, legs caked with mud up to the knee, leaves tangled in his hair. He must have been running through this forest for just as long as Kalluto. He doubled over when he reached the younger boy, hands on his knees, gasping. "Ah... ah... I'm glad I finally found you."
Kalluto didn't move. Didn't speak. He didn't know how to react. Why was he here? Had he come to laugh at him? Had he failed too and wanted the company of someone equally pathetic? If Kalluto wasn’t in the middle of his first ever emotional breakdown he would be red with rage.
But then the boy straightened up and held out his hand.
"C'mon! We can still make it." For a moment Kalluto didn’t look at his hand. But at the wide, smile going from side to side on his face.
A lifeline.
"H-how." It came out less like a question and more like a desperate whisper.
"Been looking for you! Hisoka told me you'd be lost around here." At the mention of the clown, the green boy went rigid with a shared, silent fury. At least that made Kalluto sure he wasn't working for him.
Kalluto still hadn't moved. And Gon didn't wait — he reached out and grabbed his hand, already pulling. Gon started to run, at first a little slow but soon he realized Kalluto didn’t have any problem keeping up with his pace even in his dazed state. "How did you find me?" Kalluto heard himself ask, the words coming from his lips without his brain involvement. "How do you know where to go?" His voice was gaining strength after every word.
"Smell! I followed your scent here.” Gon said it as the most normal thing in the world. “And I can smell Leorio's cologne coming from that direction, if we pick up the pace we might still—"
Kalluto stopped listening.
Smell. He'd been found by smell? That, somehow, made him even angrier than the situation right now. He didn’t smell. Not one bit. He made sure of that. The thought was so absurd it nearly shattered the fog still clinging to his mind entirely.
He looked down at the puddles covering up the swampy floor of the forest. Disheveled. Makeup ruined. Kimono broken. Eyes red. Tears and snot covering his face…
He looked like a kid. Like a damn, normal child.
And that — that — that —
All the despair burned into pure rage.
Every drop of grief and humiliation caught flame at once and became something far more useful. His jaw tightened, with a sleeve full of mud he wiped away his sorry face.
He looked at Gon, who was still holding his hand and pulling him through this miserable swamp like he was a lost child. Their hands together were the only warm thing in this forest... That was probably the only reason it was difficult to let his hand go. But he had to do it.
"Umh? Kalluto?" Gon felt their hands separate and turned. "W-wait—"
He yelped as Kalluto seized him by the back of the legs, hoisting him clean off the ground. Gon scrambled and threw his arms around Kalluto's shoulders to keep from being dropped headfirst into the mud.
"You know where to go?!" Kalluto's voice came out louder than he intended. He could feel the warmth from where Gon was holding on. He could feel the mud soaking through his clothes. He didn't care , not even slightly, about how he looked.
"Y-Yes!" Gon answered, in a tone that, much to Kalluto’s dismay, suggested he was having a good time.
"Then hold on."
Beneath the long panels of his kimono, pale, delicate legs tensed with a strength that had absolutely no business belonging to a ten-year-old.
The ground beneath his feet exploded when he launched. Mud and splinters and broken leaves erupted in a trail behind them. Gon tightened his grip and shouted directions between bursts of breathless laughter as the forest floor detonated under every footfall.
Kalluto was furious — at the forest, at the clown, at the tears that had dried cold on his face, at the fact that he'd needed to be found at all.
He was almost angrier when the exam site finally came into view.
A city laid beneath.
Like a box of jewels forged of glass and neon, cutting through the night like a cluster of stars. Even at this hour of the night it pulsed with life, the streets were crowded, windows burning bright and engines humming. A thing about city folks is that they are too busy looking ahead to ever look up at the sky — that’s why they missed the zeppelin slowly drifting through the sky of their city.
Kalluto didn’t look at them either. Too busy staring at his reflection on the window.
His makeup was flawless. His hair freshly brushed into precise dark lines. His kimono was already repaired and neatly arranged. His face, and entire body, had been thoroughly clean from any mud.
Yet he remained furious.
Twice now—twice—he had nearly failed. On his first mission. During this absolute joke of an exam.
The porcelain face broke down even more into a twisted snarl.
First, that ridiculous carnival clown had nearly cost him the first phase.
Then the tramp-dressed harlot, the one whose fashion sense Kalluto was certain she’d eaten together with her manners, had nearly ruined the second.
“I thought a girl in a kimono wouldn’t disappoint,” the green-haired examiner had said, relaxing on her chair while eyeing the dish in front of her like it was a personal offense. “But you call this pitiful thing sushi? Go back to your hometown or wherever and tell your mother to teach you how to cook before trying to be a Hunter.”
Contrary to his delicate appearance, Kalluto’s temper was very much razor-thin. The woman was kinda strong, he would concede that much, but not strong enough to survive what he was already planning. Even without his fan, a single step and a quick strike to the throat would be enough.
He shifted his weight, ready…
And then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Ehhh? You made that, Kalluto?” The green boy—Gon, he corrected himself, had appeared by his side, staring down at Kalluto's plate with bright, earnest eyes and a wide smile. "It's cut really well!" He looked up at the examiner with genuine curiosity. "You didn't even try it? It looks so good!"
“It looks good, huh?” Her tone dropped, not wanting to be challenged. “Look again kid. “ She pointed at Kalluto’s plate. “The rice is somehow both burned and uncooked. She put the clean ones outside and hid all the burn parts on the inside. And the fish?" A short, contemptuous laugh. "She just picked whatever looked presentable without a single thought for how it would taste."
Her gaze snapped to Kalluto, a silent dare for him to follow through with what he’d intended moments ago. “I hate food and people like this, you know. Pretty on the outside, trash on the inside.”
And Kalluto was all too willing to take that dare.
But Gon stepped between the two of them again. “Hey, hey—what about mine?” he asked, proudly holding up a clumsy ball of rice barely wrapped around a chunk of fish.
“YOURS IS EVEN WORSE!”
…just recalling it made him mad. But above all else, his thoughts kept circling back to Gon.
It was thanks to him that he had made it through the forest before the time ran out. And they had crossed paths again in the second phase, enough that Kalluto had been able to observe him more closely than he would have liked to admit.
He couldn't read him.
When he approached Gon to confront him about why he helped him in the forest, Gon just shrugged and said he wanted to help him, leaving Kalluto a little stunned.
The blonde boy who followed him around had caught Kalluto's expression . That's just how Gon is, he had said, with the particular tone of someone who had already spent considerable time arriving at the same dead end.
Helping for the sake of helping....It went against everything Kalluto had ever been taught about how people worked. And he couldn't decide if that made Gon the most naive person he had ever met, or something else entirely that he didn't have a word for yet.
Kalluto sighed. Cleaning up his mind, he gave one last look at his reflection, and then like a ghost he began to move silently through the ship.
The lights had gone out.. Most of the participants were sleeping in the common areas anyway. Fools, the lot of them. Who in their right mind could fall asleep in a place full of enemies? Kalluto scoffed at them.
The only thing this exam had tested so far was his patience. He didn't feel physically tired, his training was harder than anything here, and he could go a few days without sleeping just fine. So he expected anyone here to do half as much.
Having said that, staying awake left one big problem. Boredom. The ship still had a few hours to go and he had nothing to do…almost mechanically he reached for his fan in his sleeves…and once again remembered he hadn’t been permitted to bring it here. Well it seemed that practicing his forms and steps was out of the menu.
Maybe he could do what he used to do back home to pass the time, sit in a corner unnoticed with some paper, folding and cutting it. It had always been one of his favorite ways to entertain himself.
But the kid’s mental debate stopped at the same moment his feet did. He saw the back of the boy who had been haunting his thoughts earlier.
Gon was sitting in a chair by the window, calmly watching the night sky. The dim moonlight had washed his colors into shades of blue. Kalluto was genuinely surprised to find him still and relaxed, for a moment he wondered if the boy had fallen asleep sitting up.
He hadn't noticed Kalluto of course, he was too silent for that. So the young boy stared at his back for a moment, not thinking about anything in particular…and after a while he shook his head.
Gon had been… helpful, earlier. Kalluto couldn’t deny it. But spending more time with him felt dangerous in a way he couldn't name — something about him and his personality pulled the boy in, and Kalluto didn't know what to do with that.
So he turned around. Taking one step back the way he had come.
And stopped.
A sound. A single, small sound, amplified a hundred times by the quietness of the night.
His wooden sandal against the metal floor.
Kalluto looked down at his feet, just barely visible beneath the hem of his kimono, with wide eyes. They had made a sound. They were not supposed to do that. That had been one of his first ever lessons — he had been doing it longer than he had been walking. Even in heels, which he had perhaps considered wearing once or twice, he should not have been capable of making a single sound.
For the first time in his short life. His body had betrayed him.
He watched as Gon slowly turned toward the source of the noise.
For some reason beyond Kalluto’s understanding, he seriously considered fleeing. Half of him wanted to use every bit of his speed to vanish from Gon's line of sight out of sheer embarrassment. The other half was wondering what was wrong with him.
But then he saw Gon's face as he turned fully around, and Kalluto went still.
"Ah, Kalluto!" His voice was calmer than usual, tiredness having worn down his energy to something quieter, though no less warm. "You couldn't sleep either?"
Kalluto crossed the room and stopped in front of him, studying Gon’s face with dark, unreadable eyes. It was bad. Gon looked like he had been beaten thoroughly, swollen, purple, cut in several places, dried blood still clinging stubbornly to his skin…honestly he had left some of his targets in a better state than this.
"...what happened to you?" The words left his lips before he decided to say them.
Gon smiled, then winced at the movement, just slightly, and rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. "I must look pretty rough, huh?" His gaze drifted briefly to the city below. "Nobody beat me up," he added, as though he could read Kalluto's thoughts. "I did it to myself. In a match against the old man chairman."
His face was a colorful painting, and yet his tired eyes were still fighting to stay open, carrying something heavy behind them. He seemed to have a lot on his mind. But his gaze came back to Kalluto. "I nearly had him, you know." The younger boy very much doubted that. The old man gave him the same feeling as his grandfather. "Oh, sorry for worrying you, Kalluto."
…his last words took a while to settle.
Worried? Him? Who said he was worried? His eyes snapped to the window. His face was perfectly neutral , it was always perfectly neutral. What did he mean that he was worried?
Then Gon shifted on the bench, moving over to make space beside him.
Damn. He had been trained to withstand a great many forms of torture. Apparently silent social pressure from someone, he reluctantly admitted, he didn't hate was not among them. Kalluto waited a moment knowing there was no way out, and sat down.
Too close, he thought immediately. He could feel the warmth radiating off the boy next to him, the same warmth he'd noticed in the forest, but without the adrenaline coursing through him, he was far more conscious of it now. It was distracting in a way he didn't have a category for.
Gon didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn't care.
That, somehow, made it worse.
They sat together on the bench, both looking at the open sky through the window. Right now they were traveling through the sea, with no light pollution in sight the stars shined as strongly as ever, the only sound in this night was the low hum of the ship's engines. Moonlight fell across them both, filling with pale light the small space in between them.
Kalluto was grateful Gon seemed comfortable with silence. The truth was that small talk genuinely frightened him in a way that very little else did, he had simply never had occasion to practice it. Within the Zoldyck walls he mostly talked with his mother, and talk was a strong word for what could be replaced with following whatever she screamed about…
Then a growl cut through the quiet.
Gon's stomach. He laughed and pressed a hand to it, unbothered. "Sorry. Must have burned everything during that match."
Kalluto said nothing. He reached into his sleeve and after a moment produced a small bundle wrapped in leaves. He held it out without looking at Gon directly.
"Hm? What's this?" Gon took it carefully and peeled back the leaves. A pale white ball sat inside, dense and compact. He brought it close to his face and smelled it. His expression shifted immediately into something painful.
"...they're a little bitter," Kalluto said. A pause. "And they taste terrible."
Gon ate it in one go anyway. He closed his eyes, stuck his tongue out, and shuddered from his shoulders down to his feet. "Puff — thank you," he managed, still grimacing.
What a fool. He had eaten something handed to him by a near-stranger without a moment's hesitation. It could have been poison. It could have been —
"I'm sure you wouldn't poison me." Gon said it simply, already recovering.
Kalluto looked at him. Had he read his mind, or was that the pure animalistic instinct? He genuinely couldn't tell. The older boy was still a mystery to him.
The color came back into Gon's face gradually. He leaned back and looked up at the sky. "I miss Aunt Mito's cooking," he murmured, more to himself than to Kalluto. "Wonder what she's doing right now." Then he turned his head. "Hey — why did you take the exam, Kalluto?"
"...For my family." Kalluto said instantly. It wasn’t a difficult question.
He left it as vague as possible though, and Gon didn’t seem to mind or press for an answer.
"I did it because I want to meet my dad," Gon said. "So I figured I'd try being a Hunter. I don't even really know what that means yet, honestly."
Kalluto almost laughed. Both their reasoning for being here was extremely vague.
"...Do you miss him?" Kalluto didn't know why he asked. The question had arrived before he decided to say it, maybe because hearing about Gon’s father had turned his mind, briefly, toward his own.
When was the last time his father had looked at him directly? Every time they met was with his mother present, and Kalluto just fell into the background of the room. A footnote not even worth looking at.
"Not really, I've never met him. I just want to know how his life is." Gon looked simple, but this seems to be a topic he deeply thought about.
This time it was Kalluto who didn't press further.
A quiet moment passed. Then Gon asked: "How is your family?"
"...I have two—" He corrected himself. "Four older brothers. And my mother and father. And my grandfather."
"That's a lot," Gon said. Something warm moved through his voice. "Must be nice. I envy you, Kalluto."
...
Envy.
Kalluto sat with the word for a moment, turning it over. For a second he wondered if he truly missed them. He wanted to meet Killua again of course, and have his father and brother recognize him but…maybe this time he had been far from them and the whole Zoldryck state wasn’t so bad.
He looked back at the sky instead, and once again they fell into a dulling silence.
"Oh, right!" Gon said, after a while. Regaining a bit of his energy he began searching frantically through the pockets of his trousers. "I have something for you, Kalluto!"
...Something for him? Well that quickly caught his attention. What could possibly —
"Here!" Gon proudly said, presenting the object in his hands to Kalluto...which was now too stunned to speak. Mouth slightly open. Eyes widening by the second.
He reached out and took it from Gon's hand, almost shyly, almost thinking it was impossible. "How..." His voice disappeared. His eyes stayed fixed on it and the feeling on his hands.
Gon smiled. "The old man! He said I could pick anything from the ship's gift shop as a reward for trying so hard." A pause. "...I think he felt a little bad about how much he beat me." He admitted.
Kalluto turned it over in his hands with something close to awe.
A fan.
Cheap — that was the first word that came to mind. The plastic was flimsy and slightly sticky to the touch, the fabric was the kind that would tear after a few uses. He opened it. It resisted a little. Printed across the middle and surrounded by waves was the word 'Heart' . Kalluto snapped it shut. Open. Shut...the movements precise and practiced, muscle memory that had no business being applied to something this low quality.
And yet...
"H-how..." The emotion was rising like water behind a wall he hadn't known was cracking. A truly terrible quality. A genuine tourist item. And yet it was creating a feeling deep inside his cold heart that Kalluto had no name for.
Gon was just happy he liked it. "I just saw it and thought of you." A simple answer.
It had been a strange day for the ten year old. He had been humiliated a few times, he had been disappointed, he had cried out of desperation, he had probably talked and felt more today than the rest of his life combined. All of those experiences formed small cracks, each one insignificant on its own...but they had been accumulating since morning.
And now a gift. He had never received one before. Not like this. Nothing that meant training or obligation or expectation. Just something someone had seen and thought he might like.
Something broke open inside Kalluto. And he had no means to stop it.
But one thing about fans — they hid faces remarkably well.
Before Gon could see his expression, Kalluto raised it open and held it in front of his face.
"Hey!" Gon leaned sideways immediately, trying to catch a glimpse.
Kalluto shifted the fan to match him. Gon leaned the other way. The fan followed. A short, wordless game, until Gon finally gave up with a small laugh and settled back.
Kalluto kept the fan where it was.
He genuinely didn't know what expression he was making right now. That had never happened to him before. He could not get his face under control and he was not going to lower the fan until he could.
His hands trembled, faintly.
He was not entirely ignorant of social etiquette. It was simply that outside of his family he'd never had much opportunity to practice it. His painted lips parted slightly. Thank you. Two words. That was all it would take — and yet the Zoldyck name hung above him like a blade, and years of training pulled at him like a cold hand around his wrist, dragging him back from the strange, unfamiliar warmth blooming in his chest toward the deep, darkness he had been accustomed to.
The fan snapped shut.
Gon looked up, hopeful for a moment. He was met with the same still, unreadable gaze. Mask back in place, perfectly intact.
Then Kalluto stood abruptly and stepped close — very close. And took Gon's chin in his fingers.
"Eh — wait—!" Gon winced as the movement pulled at his wounds.
Kalluto was full of determination. He couldn’t thank Gon, but at least he could do something to help…the boy released his chin but didn't step back. He was quiet for a moment, searching through his sleeves with his free hand. The fan found its new place tucked inside them, its weight settling against his side like something slotting back into position.
His hand re-emerged with small, colorful vials, and then a set of fine brushes.
"I'm going to fix your face."
Gon gulped.
"Be still. Don't close your eyes so much, and relax your face."
"But it tickles!" Gon whined. Kalluto dipped the brush in powder and returned to his work. "Makeup feels so weird!"
"It's not makeup." It was indeed makeup. Still…Kalluto wondered briefly if this was a normal reaction from a boy at being put on makeup. "We already have a target on our backs for being children. Your face doesn't need to show any more weakness."
With only the moonlight to work by, this was more complicated than usual. It was also the first time he had ever done this to another person. And yet he found himself focused in a way the rest of the day hadn't managed to make him.
Little by little, Gon seemed to relax. Finally letting him work.
"Did your mom teach you?"
"...No." Makeup was a basic skill for any woman in the underworld. His mother had always told him that female assassins didn't simply have to be strong, they had to be perfect.
Kalluto had never entirely understood the distinction.
"The staff did it for me until I learned myself." He had needed to. His daily training left more than enough bruises and cuts he ever cared to admit. And doesn’t matter if the injuries came from his mother, she wouldn’t allow him to show up the next day with them on. “I can conceal most injuries…aside from whipping ones, those destroy the skin too much.” He had learned it first hand.
"Hm." Gon just nodded and chose not to press further. Then, after a moment of silence. " Your hands are really gentle, Kalluto. It doesn't hurt at all." And it was true, even though his face was full of sore spots his hands were applying the perfect pressure to feel like a light tap.
…at that Kalluto pressed slightly harder and watched Gon flinch for a moment.
Gentle hands. Did he have any idea how many people these hands had killed? That said, he wasn't particularly angry about it. That was the strange part.
He hadn't noticed until now how close they were. He could feel the faint warmth of Gon's breath on him. Their skin couldn't have looked more different. Gon seemed to be made of sunlight, and Kalluto belonged to the moon. His own pale hands looked almost luminous against Gon's tanned complexion, each movement of the brush precise and deliberate.
"It smells a little like you."
Again with that. "I don't smell." His voice came out sharper than he intended. The products he was using were all odorless. It made no sense. "That's not possible."
Gon shook his head slightly, careful not to disrupt the brush. "No…it's a good smell. It's hard to notice at first. But then it's sweet."
…Kalluto didn’t know how to reply, so he just chose to ignore it. Anyway it was over, with the last strokes of his brush, and whipping the small excess. He was done.
“There. Finished.”
Kalluto stepped back, tilting his head and moving the recently acquired fan to his lips as he inspected his handiwork. A rough work under a rough light on a rough canvas…but the result was satisfactory.
At hearing this Gon rushed to the window to check his reflection.
“Ahhh! You’re right, I don’t have any brui—Agh!” He poked his cheek and winced.
Kalluto’s expression flattened. You couldn’t be this dumb. “The wounds are still there. I only concealed the bruises and stopped the swelling.” He’d even added a very small touch of warm color to Gon’s cheeks and covered a few sunburnt patches—not that Gon needed to know.
“Thank you so much! Kalluto, you’re amazing!”
Another compliment. If it had only been the words, he might have brushed it off. But Gon said it with that open, honest smile, the kind Kalluto had no practice against. For someone of his upbringing, that smile hit harder than it should’ve.
He gathered his brushes and powders with practiced movements, tucking them neatly back inside his kimono…and found himself feeling strange.
For him makeup was just another tool on his arsenal. He did it each morning as automatically as putting on his Kimono and brushing his hair in the way his mother had instructed. And yet…applying it to Gon right now, without any expectations, without any instructions…His lips twitched upward before he could stop them. A small smile. A real one. He could concede it had been fun.
And then—
Gon threw himself at him.
Kalluto froze. Both his expression and body got stuck in place. The world seemed to slow down as he saw the body of the older boy get closer and closer to his own.
Words that his mother liked to spew every now and then about how men are salvage creatures which will try to assault you the moment they have the chance resurfaced on his mind…She seemed to forget very often that Kalluto was in fact one of those creatures too.
And for once in his life. Kalluto didn’t know what to do. His body was paralyzed and so was his mind…then quickly instinct surged in to fill the gap.
Hands with nails sharper than swords went around Gon’s throat. Ready to snap it in two, and—
“Zzz…” Snoring. From Gon.
…Oh
Gon was asleep.
Fully, carelessly, stupidly asleep against his chest.
The tension drained from Kalluto’s body in a slow release.
Gon’s weight finally settled, soft and warm, sinking into him without reservation, using Kalluto’s as a pillow. The fool probably had forced himself to stay awake until Kalluto finished with the makeup, and now his body had simply run out of batteries.
…
Kalluto’s heart hammered wildly, far too loud in his ears. His guard had dropped, badly. Gon shouldn’t have been able to get this close. He shouldn’t have been able to lay a hand on him, let alone fall asleep with his entire defenseless body draped over Kalluto’s own.
Yet here he was. And Kalluto… had let him.
Kalluto didn’t immediately push him away. He looked at the window, dawn still had yet to paint the dark sky.
The outside world was truly dangerous.
“Oh! There he is!”
“I told you he was fine.”
Kurapika exhaled softly as he and Leorio finally spotted Gon. The boy was fast asleep on a bench, a peaceful smile on his face—like a kid who had spent his entire day playing and not doing the hardest exam in the world.
Leorio folded his arms, gaze sharpening. “I don’t trust anyone here with a kid.”
Kurapika didn’t disagree. There weren’t any rules against fighting in this ship. If someone like Hisoka decided to do something to Gon…he preferred not finishing that thought.
“Hey, Kurapika,” Leorio said quietly, a rare seriousness in his tone. “I’m going to make sure he survives this exam. Even if I have to fail to protect him.”
The blonde boy almost laughed. Even after everything that had gone wrong, Leorio was still full of confidence. Pure foolishness or a brave heart, even he couldn’t tell.
A charming attribute either way.
“You do know he’s stronger than you, right?”
Leorio stared at him. Absolutely, sincerely unaware.
Kurapika smiled. “It’s fine. In that case, I’ll simply have to protect you while you protect him.”
The indignant “tch” Leorio let out was almost adorable.
But then Kurapika paused. “Uhm?”
“Something wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing,” Kurapika said quickly. It truly wasn’t anything. It’s just that he had expected Gon to run around the entire airship until he collapsed somewhere on the floor out of exhaustion.
And here he was instead…
Comfortably laying on a bench, a blanket tucked neatly around him.