A long, long time ago, there was a beautiful girl named Kaguya-hime.

She was discovered as a baby in a stalk of bamboo, and true to her name, shining with a soft but dazzling radiance. She was loved by all who raised her and even more, becoming admired by many in the land. But as she grew, so did her dissatisfaction with her current state, a dissent against the warm, close, but restricting life she'd led.

'I'm sorry,' she finally said one day, 'but I must return to the moon, where I am from.' All the princes of the land gave her lavish and expensive gifts to get her to stay, but Kaguya simply shook her head. They continued to try, endeavored their best to change her mind, but their gifts, no matter how beautiful they were, did not convince her to remain where she was.

"With that, the moon people soon came for their princess on a glowing chariot, and bidding goodbye, she disappeared into the night sky." Kikyo closed the picture book, her youngest son nestled in her arms.

The toddler looked up at his mother, his dark eyes questioning. "Kaguya go away?"

"Yes, Kalluto dear." Her hanging hair framed his small face as she answered.

"But..." Kalluto gently pried the book from her fingers and opened it back up to the pearls, the gold, and dark, lacquered bowls. He pointed. "Pretty presents." He looked back and forth between the picture and Kikyo's thinly-pressed smile, confused. "Kaguya's not happy?"

"Perhaps, dear," Kikyo said, taking the book away from her child, "gifts simply aren't enough to keep people in one place."

Once, there was a beautiful girl named Kaguya, and the world she lived in was not large enough for her.

Noticing his hands had stalled, he quickly began to work again. The quiet clicking of the whisk filled the air and managed to momentarily keep his mind busy, but not for long.

He'd always played the role of the prince. Trying his best, giving his best, but always left behind, everything he did in vain. Maybe gifts didn't really work to keep people around, in which case he wondered why he even tried so hard at giving gifts at all. Last time he hadn't even made it in time to stop Killua and he'd left before Kalluto could offer anything up. If giving was a futile method, as it had been in the old tale about the girl from the moon, there certainly wasn't any need to keep on doing this. Still, just once...

"I'd like the story of Kaguya to go differently," he voiced softly.

Killua stood on the other side of the locked kitchen door, his hands buried deep in his pockets as he listened to his brother working and ever so quietly bring up a bedtime story he'd forgotten even existed. "So that's what that was about," he muttered under his breath before pushing off and leaving, scuffed shoes noiseless as they padded back down the hall.

* * *

A gale of wind broke through the thin curtains he'd just closed, casting a bright flash of light into the darkness he'd tried to conserve before it sharply died, breezing softly past his ears and leaving a crack between the curtains. A strip of sun lay on the carpet when the wind left, undisturbed.

Kurapika touched the sunny surface before pulling back, sitting next to the bed. He set his head back on its hard wooden frame.

His phone dinged, and despite not feeling like it, he looked down to check. When he saw who the sender was, Kurapika simply wanted to sigh and place his phone somewhere else, to ignore the notification and be left alone for the moment. When his eyes caught on message itself, however, his eyes widened.

Killua
Feitan is back.

He swallowed. When he took up his phone his hands almost trembled, but he somehow managed to keep them steady. At first he didn't know how to respond. How could he? The way he thought the blunt statement implied the impossible couldn't possibly be true.

Kurapika
Back, as in?

Killua
Back as in he's alive after you killed him. Huzzah.

Kurapika
How?

Killua
The properties of Lucky's nen changed when your botched attempt to take it split it in half. Now instead of taking, it gave, so...

Killua
Fei's back.

Kurapika
I suppose I am a bit relieved for that, actually. It would be a lie to say I was fully content in what I did. Killing him was a mistake, I believe.

Kurapika
Aira couldn't be happy with him gone.

Killua
Let's meet.

Here, Kurapika pursed his lips. The invitation had come too suddenly. He wasn't ready, but more importantly he didn't feel it was fair to Rein. He still despised the Spiders for what they'd done, and for their past deeds he could never dream of forgiving them. He had been a young boy who only wished for his friends and family to be alive. The Kurta Clan had done nothing wrong, but the Phantom Troupe had. And yet, Aira—Rein—was only a young girl who wished for the people around her to not die. In this regard, they were similar.

But after this realization, where could Kurapika go? What could he do? And how could he meet his friends again after his former superior had done horrible things to them? Not to mention after his rash actions could have led to more deaths of their comrades. The guilt lay with him, and he would take responsibility.

Kurapika
I don't think I'm ready for that, Killua. I appreciate the offer.

Killua
oh I'm not Killua

Killua
his phone was just sitting on the table begging to be taken so I took it. I mean what did he expect from leaving a valuable out in the open, that I wouldn't take it? he's stupid sometimes

Killua
anyway, meeting wasn't an offer. It was an order.

Killua
well... a request. Gon was saying some stuff, so I just thought

Killua
maybe it would be tolerable

Kurapika
I see.

Kurapika
Then, Aira, I'll meet with you.

He wondered whether his response had been the appropriate choice to make. If he was right, this was the very person who he'd thought avoiding would have been the best path, for both of them. Avoidance meant the least amount of pain, less bitter words to bite back, fewer memories that would hit him like a truck. Coming from a logical perspective, he should have stayed far from Rein based off of his current emotional state. He wouldn't be able to handle it properly and keep his composure.

But ignoring all that... he suppose he did want to meet with her a little.

For the longest time, a response didn't come, to the point where he wondered if he'd been inaccurate in guessing who the sender was. He was about to text his concerns when his phone buzzed in his hands.

Killua
Kurapika? It's Rein.

His mouth opened slightly in understanding. He stalled when writing his answer, but there was no hesitation in him as to what his answer should be.

Kurapika
I will wait for our next encounter, Rein.

They continued to text for the next few minutes, choosing a time and a place. By the time their conversation wrapped up, the sun had shifted in the sky, just enough for the former strip of sunlight to make its way across the carpet and cast itself upon Kurapika's legs, warming him.

* * *

While it had been Rein to cling onto Feitan for the longest amount of time, Lucky to cry the most, and Zepile to feel the greatest amount of silent relief, it was Phinks who hadn't let Feitan out of sight even once since he'd set eyes upon him that morning. He'd roughhoused, giving playful punches and sharp edged words before keeping his distance and yet never ever concealing himself or leaving. It was if he was tethered by fascination and a sense of reassurance to the Spider, trapped in a bubble with Feitan as its focus. Even if he could not bring himself close right now, he wouldn't leave. After all, if people left they usually left for good, so this difference was something he felt should be enjoyed, exploited.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't happy. He was, enough for Feitan to make fun of him for decades to come if he expressed it all as he normally did. This emotion would fester inside of him, as a small, quiet thing that didn't feel entirely all too bad.

The group had moved inside now, done with soaking in sunshine and getting their vitamin G or whatever. The kids had been hogging Feitan for the most part, surrounding him like over excited preschoolers clinging to their mother, which, Phinks thought with a smirk and a mental note to make fun of Fei for it later, didn't sound wrong at all. Most everyone was on the couches now, but he noticed Zushi and Kalluto off to the side, whispering.

"What are you two brats plotting?" Phinks almost instinctively squatted down to meet their eye level, but he caught himself just in time and straightened, crossing his arms instead.

"I-" Kalluto's sleeves were scrunched up, with a smear of flour on the darkest part of its silk. His hands clenched. "A... present."

"... A what?"

"P-pre..."

Zushi tilted his head to the side. "Just go through with it. I'm sure Feitan-san won't mind."

"But it's never... it hasn't ever worked for me bef-"

"What, so all this muttering is about some stupid indecision?" Phinks raised his voice, just enough for it to sound loud in their conversation but for it to go unnoticed to everyone else. There was a Nen technique to redirect your voice so only some could hear it. It was old and honestly wasn't his style, but Phinks was a talented Nen user and would flaunt it when possible. He spoke directly to the young Zoldyck. "We don't need someone in the Spiders who's just going to focus on the past. We'll kick you out, so before we do, you better do something about that attitude."

Kalluto looked as if he'd been slapped in the face, but then... "Alright." His violet eyes locked onto Phinks', unwavering. "Alright."

He left back for the kitchen, shutting the door firmly before Zushi could even think about following him. A short silence passed between the two left behind.

"So," Phinks addressed, "Brown brat."

"Yes?"

"What's a..." He coughed and lowered his voice near incomprehensible as he whispered, "...present?

"Hm? I couldn't quite hear-"

The tips of his ears blazed. "Nothing. Nothing, so shut up and stop talking and shut up." Phinks sighed and scratched the back of his neck, discreetly massaging it. It hurt from looking down at the kid too much. He was so short, like Fei. "Do you even drink milk?"

Zushi peered upwards, but the sudden change in discussion topic didn't faze him. "I thought I was supposed to shut up."

With a chuckle, Phinks grabbed Zushi by the collar, propping him up in the air. "You have attitude," he commented through shut teeth. He wanted to say something about children not having any respect, but come to think of it, he hadn't had any as a child either, so he wasn't in a position to talk and diss his old self.

Ignoring him, Zushi flopped backwards, turning upside down as he took a deep whiff. "I wonder what Kalluto was making. It smells good."

Clicking his tongue, Phinks sighed and placed Zushi back onto the floor. "He's good at this kitchen stuff. I bet it'll taste alright," he said. "Why was he moping around about it?"

"I think, Phinks-san," Zushi spoke up with his eyes trained on the kitchen door, "Kalluto is taking a step forward, and taking that step at all was an admirable thing to do." The door he'd been keeping his eyes on opened and Kalluto quickly stepped out, carrying something. Zushi rushed forward to join him as he made his way toward the middle of the room, where Feitan and the others were. But he paused, and looked back. "Phinks-san?"

Phinks scowled momentarily at his use of honorifics even though he'd repeatedly told him to stop, but the frown soon left him. He stared at the smile Zushi was giving him; a look back over his shoulder and his head at an angle, grinning brightly.

"A present is something you make and give to someone you are close to."

Phinks blinked at Zushi's back as he trotted off. "Give, huh?" Massaging his jaw, he hesitated on whether he should move forward to join them. Coming to the conclusion that it would be awkward to stand by himself off to the side and unwilling to admit he was curious about the 'present', he started to walk toward them. "Who in their right mind would do that?"

When Kalluto approached Feitan, his knuckles were pale from gripping the plate too hard. He wondered whether he would be able to speak, but a rather forceful hit on the back from Zushi spurred him on. "It's..." His first word caught in his throat, but he forced himself to keep going. He caught his brother's icy blue eye for a brief moment, but he tore his gaze away. "...not pretty. It's not a pretty present, but it's all I have." Kalluto set down the plate.

Feitan cast his eyes down at the plate with an eyebrow raised. "What is this?"

It wasn't anything beautiful, but it did seem to glisten under the lights. The pure white of the frosting, shaped neatly in a way that almost made it appear crisp or crystallized, with rows of fruit cut and lined up to look their finest upon its surface. It was still warm and sent a sweet scent through the air, that even though it appeared amateurish, it was still tempting.

"Strawberry shortcake." There were additional stains on Kalluto now; a smear of the cut strawberries on his obi when he'd accidentally dropped one of the fruits, a dusting of powdered sugar near his feet and a dab of frosting on a strand of hair when some of the mixture had flown at him while he was making it. But he seemed to neither notice nor care about any of this as he clutched his silken sleeves tightly. "I'm not a professional. This is all I have. This is all I can give you, but this is my present, so..." He looked up. "So don't leave for the moon."

He almost felt as if he would wither under Feitan's strong gaze. For a split second, Kalluto was fully convinced that he had failed once more to keep someone close, that Feitan would now take this as an initiative to leave for good this time and never come back.

"And this going to keep me here?" Feitan spat. "Of course I stay. You mortals all so weak and pathetic and you can't live without me. Or are you so stupid like everyone else that you can't understand simple fact?" He looked at the cake on the table. "Now how you expect me to eat? Hands?"

Kalluto's eyes widened. "You're staying?"

"What I just say? Of course I stay, who else going to make you pathetic people strong enough to not die?"

The tension melted from his shoulders. "You aren't leaving?"

An exhale and the firm assurance, "No."

Kalluto merely sat down, dumbfounded and slightly out of breath as Gon ran to go get forks for them all in his place. They all dug in without cutting up the cake. Feitan took a single bite as he made sure Kalluto watched him, after which he sat back and didn't take another. Zushi ate the surrounding frosting and invited a lingering and hesitant Zepile to join in. Rein went to Kalluto and hefted him up, dragging him to the table and encouraged him to eat as well, which he did, solemnly and yet with a hidden happiness. Gon accidentally flicked some cake into Killua's hair, after which Killua retaliated by 'accidentally' shoving some into his face. After breaking up their fight, Lucky took a candied strawberry from the top and offered it to Machi passing by, who hadn't bothered to throw herself into the commotion in the first place. With a slightly surprised look that quickly faded away, she accepted it. After the majority of them were done, Phinks took the plate into his large hands and, slouched over the sofa, shoveled whatever was left into his mouth.

It was far from the dignified image of the Phantom Troupe. But even spiders are living creatures with brains and hearts, so perhaps such a scene was not so far-fetched.

* * *

He'd been straining to hear the conversation happening inside the lodge for the last few minutes until, before he'd known it, he had become fully engrossed at the audio of the scene unfolding. After getting word from Shalnark that matters appeared dire, he'd rushed over as last minute help if needed, displaying his trust in the Phantom Troupe members by not showing any panic, but speeding nonetheless. But it seemed he'd arrived too late, or rather, at a time where there would be no space for him to slip in.

"Well," Chrollo stated to the air, pulling up the collar of his fur-lined coat, "I suppose I'll have to lay low for now."

The Kalluto bit of this chapter was influenced by a chapter of School Babysitters, which I totally recommend you go watch if you want to cry but also be immensely happy.

Q: Zushi, who's your father?
Zushi: *in this fic* I... I have like four of them please be more specific-

"It's pretty good, Machi. Want some?"
Excuse the little mess ups, just think of this as a small sketch.

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