Chapter Text
Kalluto might be in a whole, different world, but it is strange that he doesn't feel the slightest bit sad? Or fear, what about that? Not a hint of it. Happiness? More like annoyance and dissatisfaction. There's no sense of longing to return, no urgency because all he needed to focus on was returning. His whole life he was taught to remain focused and objective, so it became instinctual to be focused and objective, to always keep moving without getting lost, remove all other unnecessary feelings and thoughts—that was what Kalluto defined from his family’s teachings.
Yes, it had only been a few minutes and Kalluto had already made the conclusion he was not in his home world. He felt that the air was quite too smooth when he breathed it in, that the gravity was too light, and how sound traveled a bit faster than usual. Those were big details, for an assassin that is. Since the dispersion of the chimera ants, it didn't strike Kalluto odd to see humanoid figures walking among the streets, but Kalluto was indifferent to them since he knew he wasn’t in the same dimension.
Was this the dark continent? If there was one alarming factor at the moment, it was that Kalluto's memory of what he'd been doing minutes before was completely blank. He could remember events from a month ago—how he knew it was a month ago, he couldn't say why exactly. Those days after that were lost to him, making him believe whatever phenomenon must have derived from that place. Somehow, he had a feeling it was related to that place, even if he couldn’t put it together yet.
But Kalluto would say that this place wasn't the dark continent at all, and perhaps he had been warped here as an interference from whatever harbored in the Dark Continent. The people here look too human, and not only can he tell they are weak, the way their aura flowed was compacted and dense—with no clear way to release it Kalluto didn’t find them threatening. He walked among the crowds, following the steps of the ordinary civilians, which made it easy to blend. What he needs most of now is information; he can’t act if there’s nothing to work on. He closed his eyelids, taking in the strange aura and the new, unfamiliar sensation of the environment.
Trusting his instincts and skills, Kalluto hadn’t expected to run into the back of a big-bodied man—cheeks smushed as the people behind him pushed forward. Right, it had become harder for Kalluto to sense his surroundings as the aura of this world was chaotic like swiveled air in the wind. People here did not have aura nodes, and because their aura was so weirdly dispersed, his senses have been off. A failure on his part for having to rely so much on sensing other people’s aura. His trained senses were being tricked by the unfamiliarity of everything, but he wouldn't be a Zoldyck if he wasn't adaptable.
"Ah, my apologies, young lady. You might want to stand back,” said the man. Kalluto noticed the man had blue skin and for some reason had stopped on the road due to some commotion. But Kalluto could see a warm light reflecting off the man's cheeks. A fire was occurring on the road. With his small body was able to squeeze through the crowd without much trouble and reaching the edge he was finally able to see what caught the people's sight. What first caught his attention was a young boy with green hair running toward a slimy creature holding on to a blond boy, after which Kalluto noted a man with wood-like features and limbs whom the people named through awe-strucked whispers as "Kamui Woods". There were people displaying their abilities so clear and flauntingly. Perhaps using your own abilities in this world wasn’t a secret meant to be kept from the masses, or maybe it wasn’t all that special because everyone had such abilities? Kalluto was more agreeable on the latter as his eyes scanned the area to notice the fluctuation of Kamui Wood’s aura compared to the people standing by—the shape wasn’t all that different, though Kamui’s aura was clearly more fluid and potent.
The events that followed shortly after happened in a matter of seconds; the young boy attempted to aid his peer failing to do anything substantial, and then a muscular man comes to save the day with a singular punch to the air and changes the weather with just a punch. The aura he dispensed from the swing of an arm was immense. If Kalluto measured himself to this man, he might have to admit that he’s found himself disadvantaged. People exclaimed his name in fanfare and reverence; "All Might!"
Kalluto, oddly enough, hadn't sensed his presence before he showed up spontaneously. The man must be skilled if he could hide such an immense aura. He wasn’t efficient in the drastic change of aura, Kalluto noticed the slight shakiness of the man’s torso as he stood straight. Kalluto couldn't help but narrow his eyes before glancing up at the show of rain. He wanted to get out before he’d get drenched.
Before he departed, he noted the uniforms of the police.
"You're quirkless? It's incredibly reckless of you to do that." The police officer scolded the boy. The new term sparked interest in Kalluto—that he’ll have to look into for it might be the cause for this world’s inconsistent aura. Magenta eyes laid back onto the green-haired boy and a hum reverberated from Kalluto’s throat. That boy is different, he appears to not have that same chaotic aura like the others. In fact, he was just like a normal human back from Kalluto’s home. From under Kalluto’s sleeve, a singular paper confetti falls before being blown by the wind, coincidentally—and purely coincidental—it lands in the pocket of the boy’s backpack.
-
What Kalluto eventually confirms is that this world is completely disconnected from his home world. By that, he means a different dimension altogether. Hunters don't exist, the Zoldyck name is non-existent, and the laws and morals around murder are stricter–-not that he was planning on killing anybody, and if he did he’d be pretty good at getting away with it anyway.
So, how was he going to get back home? Kalluto's lips turned into a frown, he shouldn't have expected to get out so soon with a dimensional warp of this scale. Whoever sent him here must have paid a price and the conditions should be no less, Kalluto just has to find what it was in order to reverse this predicament of being stuck in another world.
But there's also another possibility; finding someone else with a 'quirk' that could send him back. Apparently, though, teleportation quirks are a rarity, which also means that finding one up to Kalluto's desired calibre would be next to impossible.
He's stuck. As a Zoldyck who inherited more of his mother's traits, it was shameful to admit it to himself. Still, he must carry on if he wants to get home and with his skills and abilities, it wouldn't be difficult at all to gather information. Kalluto was a well-rounded assassin—all Zoldycks should be.
--
To be disguised, or not disguised? Illumi was the only sibling who specialized in that field as it worked well for him; Zoldycks never needed to hide their identities, since they were always too good for their jobs. Kalluto discarded the option of disguising himself since he enjoyed being his peculiar, little self, and logically, his stature was quite too short to have a desirable range of disguises like Illumi.
His sandals settled onto the stone sidewalk, even though they were made from wood, his steps were as silent as nothingness. He even managed to frighten a couple of passerbys as he walked by them when they realized he was there.
He was simply heading toward the tourist center to get a better idea of how this place handled foreigners and information distribution, which it would have been a ten minute trip if he wasn't perusing around the park and curiously noticing the cherry blossom trees. If this world was similar to his, then he should surmise that it was spring in this location.
“They’re small,” Kalluto commented on the petals.
As he walked out the corner around a series of tall trees, he heard the sounds of a bike bell ringing, alerting Kalluto of the bike heading right straight at him. The man screamed out loud as he instinctively twisted the front wheel (180), sacrificing himself as he crashed in a sturdy bush. Good thing he wore a helmet, else his head might have needed some stitches from smacking into the ground.
The man groaned, shuffling back up he sighed in relief seeing his bike appear fine, he turned to Kalluto who had been pondering on leaving the scene seconds after the crash.
"Are you alright?" The man asked, his voice young and alive. Kalluto’s presence was so hidden that the man hadn't seen him from behind the tree. "Sorry, I didn't expect you to pop out from the corner," he chuckled, trying to make the situation lighter, hoping he didn't scare the kid. Which, he was starting to feel increasingly concerned at their eerie silence and cold stare.
With a strained but genuine smile, "Are you alone?" No answer. Face expressionless. Natsuo was starting to—no, he was incredibly *concerned*. "Are you hurt? I'll–uh...if you're lost I can help you find your guardians." Natsuo took off his helmet, feeling awkward. Handling children was not a strong suit of his, evidently.
Taking in a breath, he assessed the child closely. They wore a kimono, had a sharp bob cut, and a demeanor that said that they couldn't feel bothered to give a word for things so menial--such as this moment. Seeing how they were alone by themselves and not at school, he might actually be facing a rich kid. That much explains the traditional attire and that attitude thinking nothing can hurt them.
Kalluto on the other hand, could only stare at the man in near shock—of course, it only lasted a brief second before he composed himself immediately. It was the man's resemblance to his older brother that had Kalluto falling into that stupor; he hadn't seen Killua in so long that the slightest resemblance of his brother had him on full alert.
"Killua."
Kalluto's soft voice seemed to startle the young man - it even startled Kalluto himself who hadn't meant to say his thoughts out loud. He's had enough time to gawk at the man. Though there were few who could match Killua's look, there were none who could imitate his aura and cool demeanor. Kalluto brushed off the encounter and began heading off toward his original destination, he wouldn’t see that man again.
It is unsurprisingly easy to move around. No one stops him in his tracks, no one glances or stops to question why a child is out and about by themselves. Though, now that Kalluto thinks about it, it does feel quite unusual—must be the heroism rooted in the society, people must feel quite safe. It made him feel more relaxed, things were going to be a breeze for him at this rate.
---
Rhythmically, Kalluto knocked onto the metal reinforced door, it only took three seconds before someone answered his call. The door was opened by a person wearing heavy makeup to mask their features, and even so Kalluto could see the muscles of their brow furrow upon seeing his small form.
“Giran,” Kalluto simply stated. The person shrugged their shoulders, not asking any questions despite the look in their eyes. He was led to a hall and at the end was an inconspicuous looking door.
The adult knocked on the door and called out, “Giran, you got a visitor!”
Kalluto was shortly left by himself for the man behind the door to graciously allow him inside, and when he did a look of suspicion etched onto Giran’s face.
“A kid?”
Kalluto unfolded his fan to cover the bottom half of his face, allowing his eyes to be his most noticeable feature, there was no way Giran could ignore the intent placed in them. With a hefty chuckle Giran stepped out of the way to allow Kalluto inside.
“Well, you managed to find me. Size ain’t all that important, you get what I mean?” Giran casually settled into his loveseat, while raising an eyebrow toward Kalluto. “So, what are you here for?”
Information. Resources. Funds for the meanwhile. Kalluto wishes he could simply demand all those things, but he knows they won’t come for free. With his first time here, he should instead settle for the small things, gradually build up trust before asking for the big stuff.
His fan was still covering half his face as he spoke. “I heard you give out information. I’m willing to do some jobs for you if you can trade.” Kalluto can tell from Giran’s body language that he doesn’t quite take Kalluto seriously, something Kalluto himself is confident he can flip around easily.
“I have capable men already,” Giran lit up a smoke and inhaled. Kalluto squints at the man, quite saddled with himself for needing to rely on the man, he would be able to find information himself, but it would take him quite a bit of time sometime. If he wanted to go home quicker he needed more sources and so that was how he found himself in the cool, busy room of the info broker.
“I can be much more capable than them.”
“What’s your quirk?”
“I can’t tell you that.” There was a long pause between them. “If I complete a job for you, will you trust me?”
Giran laughed again, this time he had a cheekier grin. “Well, it’s not everyday—or ever—that a kid walks in demanding for a deal. I’m sure I can find good use for a child your age.” There must be, afterall, children can blend in tremendously well as spies or assassins, Kalluto knows by experience alone.
“How about we start small. Like you said: build up some trust.”
-
The mission he received was way too easy, but it was clear that if Kalluto had failed it wouldn’t have been much of an issue to Giran. The broker wanted him to obtain a stack of files for one of his other clients; he had to infiltrate a building, find a hidden safe in an office, shuffle through some folders and get the main files. He completed that all in a total of eleven minutes, nineteen if he counted the detour back to Giran’s office.
“That was…fast.” Giran took the folder from Kalluto’s hand and double checked to make sure it was the correct one. He glanced back and forth between Kalluto and the papers. He had expected the child to take a day to plan out but he had blown him away. “How did you—you didn’t just walk into the building on camera and trigger an alarm?”
Kulluto simply hummed.
“An actual answer please.” Giran said much more politely, yet eagerly.
“Of course I didn’t, I’m a professional.” Kalluto’s monotonous tone didn’t hide his subtle pride. At that statement, Giran's eyes crinkled, though he quickly reverted back to a neutral expression and gave Kalluto a lot of his thanks.
“Still, I don't trust you just yet, you’ll have to do a few more things for me.”
“Don’t I get payment for that?” Kalluto knew the reward was Giran’s trust—that was what they both agreed on beforehand, but he doesn’t think it’d hurt to ask. If Giran was truly generous, he would give Kalluto what he wanted.
Giran apparently understood the meaning of his inquiry, “Well, then, what is that I can help you with?”
“I need information. Specifically I want to know incidents of teleportation quirks. A list of people will also be fine.”
“Hmm. I’ll see what I can find. For the meanwhile, are you up for a few more jobs?”
That was the start of Kalluto’s give-and-take relationship with Giran the information broker, also known as a villain working the underground by heroes. For what it’s worth, doing business with Giran allows him to uncover information about the world’s state of affairs through missions, and Giran saves him time by gathering information he might not be able to access. The quirk registry for one, Kalluto has no idea how Giran managed to get access to it, and Kalluto had no idea it existed until he was confronted by Giran about his lack of information in it.
Kalluto gave the man no answer, and Giran could only settle with the explanation of him being a ‘professional’. He also doesn’t ask questions, that’s a great bonus. The fact that he just does, and minimally complains or asks questions from Kalluto makes him a lot more likeable in his opinion.
In the few days that they've worked together, Giran had already fulfilled his end of the deal and had given Kalluto all information he has on teleportation quirks. Quirks of the type were so rare that it was even easier to find certain details of them—and none of them, that Kalluto had read upon, were powerful enough to have brought him here, much less bring him home.
His only bet now was to find the perpetrator who brought him here—if they even existed in this world in the first place. Whenever Kalluto tried to recall the events that happened prior to his arrival in this place, he would have the image of nothingness in his mind. Not black, white, or grey, but nothing. It was like something had stripped him of a basic human sense.
Kalluto jokingly pictured being sucked into Shizuku’s Blinky, and that this place was wherever it absorbed would go, only to realize that it may be more plausible than he thinks. If a nen user uses their ability like Shizuku, they might not even know of this side effect. It was a use-and-forget-altogether type of ability, wasn't it? And perhaps the memory erasure or sealing was a purposeful part of their ability, making sure that the target could not escape or enact revenge on the user. This revelation—or speculation of possibly—displeased Kalluto greatly, if he was as temperamental as Milluki or Killua he might have committed an unreasonable murder already to ease his annoyance.
Giran interrupts Kalluto’s thoughts as he shuffles back into his seat comfortably. If there’s one thing that mildly annoys Kalluto, it’s that the man had gotten comfortable enough to keep him waiting an extra minute. Kalluto doesn't want to ward the man off, so he refrains from informing Giran that his services weren’t actually that supreme and helpful to Kalluto who now knew how to gather information himself after spending ten days in this world. Kalluto quite enjoyed knowing he had more power than anyone else in this world, since then many things tend to not irk him even if it should — such as Giran’s treatment of him like he was a little kid while knowing quite well of his capabilities.
“I have a new proposal for you, Kalluto-kun,” it wasn’t a question, though Giran may as well be with his tone and intent.
“What would I receive in return?”
Giran smiles, quite pleased at the answer. “I have an acquaintance, I don’t like to give out their information for they are quite a valuable client, but if you return with something to give I believe what they can give you is quite a worthy trade.”
“I can't believe it will benefit me.” Kalluto wasn’t oblivious to how the man had been trying to monopolize him—his skills. He would have no doubt Giran would try to fool and trick him if he could, even if the eman had been honest and delivered on the deals he made at first.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Giran huffs lightly, “the payment won’t be from me—in fact, I believe they are trying to hire you for this job.”
“I thought you keep your acquaintances unknown? I didn’t think you'd be one to leak information—that would betray trust.” Kalluto wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but he thought Giran was more careful and capable than that.
Giran smiles lazily but regretfully. “Well, if someone discovers someone was trying to find out more about them for an unknown reason, wouldn’t that also spark curiosity?”
No, in Kalluto’s opinion. The Zoldyck family is nearly world famous, there is no end to people who want to find out any crumb of information about them. But, he won’t throw away caution if one were to discover a family secret so locked deeply and hidden he should wonder how—like Alluka.
Like Alluka…
Alluka.
In that split second Kalluto betrayed his stoic and controlled expression, he threw the revelation in a box to save for later.
“I see,” he finally said, “it must be about the teleportation quirks I asked for.” It wouldn’t be a surprise if criminal gangs or organizations had someone with such quirk and were wary of enemies or grudge holders striking at them. Mayhaps Kalluto had overstepped and asked Giran something too bold and now the man was asking for him to repay the balance.
“Besides, this time I’m not going to be the one paying you; I’m just the messenger,” Giran reinstated.
“If this client of yours does indeed have what I am seeking, then this job would be worth taking then, correct?” Kalluto’s voice stayed monotone. You get what you pay for, after all.
Giran didn’t waste a moment to explain the details of Kalluto's new ‘operation’, and the new mission he entailed was truly novel. It would be Kalluto’s first time handing a job where it involved a hero. The involvement of heroes in underground work could be detrimental to operations in this new age of clever and helpful quirks, which was why those who lurked and lived in the underground world try to steer clear of them.
‘Well then, would you like to take on the job? You see how much they could pay you back now?”
Kalluto’s eyes glowered lowly, Giran had already told him of what the mission entailed; he didn’t want to leave Kalluto any room to reconsider. The name of the targets didn’t make his heart sunder, instead it began to beat faster from excitement: Endeavor. He was the number two hero, apparently second to All Might, the man who could change the weather with a swing of his fist. Hawks, the number three hero, apparently quite a private despite his carefree and laidback attitude. Finally, there was All Might, a man he was at least familiar with, seeing him in action in real time. They were the most popular heroes, some might consider them to be the main pillars of society in this day and age.
Heroes in this world were almost akin to hunters, except there were more of them with half the strength of any remarkable hunter. Which was why Kalluto felt it would be no trouble to him, though, he wasn't foolish enough to think it would be remarkably easy either. A hero such as All Might widely known and popular, many would try to seek more in the life of the hero, and Kalluto imagined that a man as secretive as him wouldn’t keep his walls weak and enterable. If this client was so sure they could get something out of this man from him and the others, then he’ll be sure to deliver.
“I see no reason to refuse.” Kalluto forced down a smirk, acknowledging the respect Giran had for him by telling him of this request.
Which was why he found himself sneaking out of the window of an orphanage. A somewhat weaker imitation of himself and his elder brother’s ability, Kalluto left a confetti made clone resting in the covers of his assigned bed, it would be unresponsive if no one should be able to tell the difference.
A week ago he had discovered the number two hero’s daughter's workplace. It was a lucky coincidence at the time; Fuyumi Todoroki had just recently quit her job as a school teacher and was temporarily volunteering as a helping hand at this orphanage. It wasn’t like Kalluto was expecting her to spill out any information about Endeavor, the plan he made up was lackluster and would need a waterfall of luck to even come to pass, so at the moment he would use this orphanage as a place to gather his thoughts as well as keeping an eye on the woman who might be able to be of some use to him.
Because the mission didn’t have a clear time limit Kalluto was taking his sweet time, surprising himself with his own lack of urgency. It didn’t come to a surprise to him that information on Endeavor would be hard to gather; he was a hero and his information would be protected by the government, and he had controlled image on the internet with his immaculate PR management. Few things weren’t known about him except for the fact that he attended the legendary school for heroes, UA, is married, has a few children, and that the hero had a quiet reputation being known as “behind All Might”.
The lack of information there is to find about the hero on web forums and hearsay has made Kalluto consider breaking into the man’s estate and finding out whatever dark or deep secret this man held. But he didn’t do that: Kalluto didn’t mind playing the long game and holding out for an opportunity. So in his spare time, he needed to find out other ways to…and Alluka. Right. He had forgotten to ponder about it.
Kalluto was quite young then when his sister had been locked away and it was forbidden to talk to her. In his memories, the only time he’d ever been in her proximity was for a family photo, nothing more, nothing less. He was young, the youngest child, so even if everyone else in the Zoldyck line had known about Alluka and her abnormalities, no one had felt the need or urgency to ever mention Alluka to him. So to Alluka, Kalluto was the least closest to her. That was why it had never occurred to Kalluto that Alluka might have been the perpetrator from the start. According to Illumi, she was capable of traveling across the country in a matter of seconds, who’s to say that she wouldn't be capable of…dimensional travel? But why would Alluka do this? They barely knew each other, but what if instead of simply sending him here she had sent the rest of the Zoldycks too—Kalluto evicted the conjecture, if his family were here he’d be able to find them in the span of a week with them being nen users and all, no one else in this world was.
A dreadful thought dawned on Kalluto that he might be stuck in this world for all his life if Alluka was the one to send him here, but because he didn’t know the extent of her abilities and the conditions for them to flourish, he drowned the idea back into the bottom. A part of him was now regretful for not inquiring more about Alluka from Illumi. If his instincts blared true, he may as well be dead in his home world until someone wishes him back, which—well, Kalluto doubts that’d be a priority. Killua had left home again with Alluka and forbid the family from approaching them according to Illumi. With how much distaste Killua has for the family, he would surely want to avoid them. If there’s anyone who could convince Killua, it’d be grandfather, but Kalluto knows he wouldn’t do something so trivial as to chase Killua down just for Kalluto.
For the first time in his life, Kalluto stopped dead in his tracks, feeling lost like he’s never had. Was he really to spend his years in this world, separated from the family he loves so much? Did he really mean so little to his family? Even as he stilled, the breeze didn’t as it blew his hair strands onto his face. His lips turned into a puckered frown. A Zoldyck knows when to give up pursuit, but Kalluto wasn’t going to give up, not when there’s been no confirmation.
There was no use pondering more about it. Kalluto adjusted the neckline of his robe and only did he then accept that he was feeling quite stifled by his clothes. He could go days wearing this kimono, months even, but it wasn’t the fabric itself that stirred him but the fact that he felt like he hadn’t bathed in months. Physical exertions were no sweat to Kalluto, but it was just natural law that the body would sweat. Plus, being a rich kid with no end to a selection of clothing, he had been feeling off-kilter at not having a change of clothes now and then.
Perhaps he should go shopping at the mall when the sun rises, but right now he needed to complete a task Giran had been begging him for, something having to do with yakuza that Giran only trusted Kalluto to deploy. It didn’t come as a surprise to Kalluto that gangs and mafias seldom existed in this world with the high numbers of heroes keeping the streets free of crime, so it was striking to Kalluto when Giran showed his reluctance on taking jobs for such groups.
“In these trying times, groups like the Yakuza tend to be tightknit, you wouldn’t want to receive their grudge, as obscure as they may seem,” he explained.
He finished the job quickly, setting the package right on the coffee table in Giran’s office and before he left Kalluto asked him for a favor, out of the blue.
Giran hummed, his tone didn’t hide his surprise. “Is that so? What would you like to put in for your name?”
It’d be a long-term mission, and he’d be staying in this world for an unknowable amount of time. If he had an identity in this world then it’s be easier for him to have comfortable lodging in many places.
“Kalluto,” he softly said.
“Just Kalluto?”
Zoldyck. He didn’t say it out loud, perhaps because he knew it was an unusual surname, a name he would have loved to wear proudly but doing so when there were so many unknown variables in this world would hinder him only if Kalluto were to catch someone’s eye. Kalluto had searched for anyone bearing the name “Zoldyck” and had found none in all the systems, he would be making himself a person of interest just for having a unique identity. With his family gone, so was the prestige and pride.
“Yes.”
Somehow, rejecting to give out his surname made Kalluto realize how stale his saliva tasted, it was bitter like the poisons he’d drink for breakfast yet also sweet. What did he eat last time before he came here? Kalluto couldn’t recall, it wasn't important enough to remember anyways.
--
Apparently, orphan children do go to school or have means of education. Kalluto was a new arrival, so he didn't need to partake in those means yet. The adults were worried for him so they let him off with free time so he could ‘adjust’. Kalluto didn’t need to go to school, nor did he need time to adjust, what he would have liked to do is look for some fresh, never-worn, clothes, as he definitely didn’t want the hand-me-downs the orphanage had been holding onto.
So here he was, standing watch near the entrance of the mall. It was certainly a big mall, back at home he’s sure his family could buy out the whole mall with their wealth. Beside him, a woman giggled at his perusing eyes. It was Fuyumi Todoroki.
“It’s your first time coming here?”
Kalluto simply nodded. Fuyumi had driven quite a distance from the orphanage to reach this place, maybe because she was the daughter of a well-known hero they trusted her to not get in trouble.
“Let’s get you some clothes then!” Fuyumi pumped her fist trying to brighten the mood between them, but to no avail. “Are you looking for anything specific?”
“I’d like for them to last long.”
“Ah, yes. Oh, are you hungry? Let’s go get a treat!”
Fuyumi was quite good at hiding her unease and awkwardness if she had any, most at the orphanage would struggle to get a read on Kalluto and find it hard to talk to him and the room would get stagnant, but Fuyumi kept the energy flowing in, Kalluto thinks he might prefer it that way since the time was progressed faster than when the adults or older kids would have just staring at him anxiously.
Kalluto wasn’t hungry, but he followed Fuyumi’s trail anyway. She purchased something from a store and handed Kalluto a share.
“A cinnamon bun,” she said before grunting in satisfaction as took a bite. Kalluto preferred mild and bitter tasting food, but if Killua loved sweet things then Kalluto did too.
The store they had gone into had an array of modern style clothes, all very much not of his style if Kalluto could comment on it. Hard denim, clunky leather, and plastic-infused wool, Kalluto should have gone to a private maker instead, he’s sure Giran could find him one with ease.
But alas, he made this decision himself as a way to get closer to one of the Todorokis.
“Take a look around for what you like, Kalluto, I’ll be nearby.” So, she didn’t want to give him any unnecessary pressure. Kalluto silently nodded and skipped the store to enter a different one, it had more flowy clothes. He wasn’t one to shop for himself—or ever—since all the clothes he’d ever worn were custom made for him. Feeling out the fabric, he found they also weren’t to his taste and standard, having to settle at such lows turned his lips into a thin line. It wasn’t going to kill him, he tried to convince himself. It’d be pretty strange for an orphan kid to be out wearing the best quality fabric, wouldn’t it? He tried to justify himself. Dear, he hoped his mother never sees him in such a state—wearing polyester dresses and denim—she might have a meltdown about how her youngest is so obscene..
A lot of the sizes were either too big or too small for Kalluto, must be the troubles of the common people to have ill-fitting clothes, Kalluto thought before he shook his head, he hadn’t meant to chastise the ordinary who had nothing to do with him. He found a purple-magenta dress that was a bit bigger than his size. He'd have liked it to cover his feet since it was helpful in hiding his potential movements, but considering there’d be few in this world who could even match him in speed to read his actions, he conceded.
He paid for the dress with a card Giran supplied him, and headed out, he’d have to wash the dress before putting it on. Fuyumi was right outside leaning on the guard rails as she stared down at the live fountain.
“You’re bought something? How did you–what did you get?” Her eyes brightened with excitement, sneaking a look into his bag. “A dress, huh? It’s very pretty, it matches you.”
“Thanks.”
Fuyumi sighed dreamily. “I wish I had a sister,” she looked at him with eyes full of honey, “then we could go shopping together and have so much fun doing—girl stuff,” she giggled, dreaming up a sibling that didn’t exist. Only a few seconds later did it strike Kalluto that Fuyumi this whole time had no idea he was actually a boy—no one in the orphanage actually knew since there were no documents on him—and Kalluto himself was too nonchalant to feel like he needed to correct her.
The day spent at the mall was surprisingly a long one, but Kalluto found himself not caring one very much. If anything, this new experience would serve as a learning experience—yes, just a learning experience.