Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Just a single flash of light in the midnight sky, like a star falling or a comet passing. The two shared nearly everything with one another, but even then, they just didn’t find it all that important. It was like a bolt of lightning, gone as soon as it came, there one minute and vanished the next. So they said nothing at all, not even to each other.

Gon was resting on a tree branch, unable to sleep at that moment. Killua rested above him, and eyes closed but obviously not asleep either. Gon could hear how his breathing patterns fluctuated. Once he pretended to be asleep during the Hunter Exam in order to eavesdrop on Killua and Kurapika. Killua claimed that he could go for days without rest. And then he threw his pillow at Gon.

Gon smiled fondly. He remembered that time as though it was yesterday, even though it was nearly a year and a half ago. They only spoke to each other after learning they were the same age, and the youngest participants. But truth be told, the snarky boy had caught Gon’s eye before introducing himself. He had spotted him in the crowd, the kid stood out that much. Messy silver-white hair, lithe physique, confident stance, snowy white skin. Not to mention his eyes.

Killua’s eyes were strange in many different ways. Sometimes they were fierce like blue fire, seemingly cold but once you got closer you realized that they were burning stronger than any other flame. Other times they were like ice, deep and freezing your insides. But around Gon, they seemed to be at their best. They were warm and cool at the same time, in a way that reminded him of his home, Whale Island, specifically the times when Gon would go for a swim in the ocean during a scalding summer day. The salt water would soothe his sunburnt skin, and he’d never want to leave. The bright sun made the surface glimmer like a million aquamarines, too beautiful to just abandon.

He locked eyes with those sapphire orbs and declared that he’d never ever stop swimming.

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“Big brother, we want you to be happy.”

Alluka had told Killua that day that she wanted him to be free from her. Killua, on the verge of tears, desperately tried to convince her that no, he won’t leave her ever, he wants to stay and protect her forever.

Gon had watched it happen a mere few feet away, unsure of what he should do for his friend. His friend that was about to start crying, his friend who needed his help. His friend whom he had never even apologized to.

”Gotoh and the others will keep us both safe. We promise.”

”No, Alluka!”

”Big brother, do you like being with Gon? Do you want to be a hunter?”

That, Killua hadn’t responded to. Instead he snapped his mouth shut, clearly not able to refute, his face red as a tomato and his eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

Alluka closed her eyes. A few seconds passed and a strange, black aura began to radiate from her body, and it was thick and suffocating for a moment, but then it disappeared. She opened her eyes. They had become blank, empty sockets, her face deathly white like she had put on a mask.

“Killua,” said Nanika, “can you please be happy?”

This time, Killua didn’t refuse her. Gon knew enough about their powers that he knew why. It was because Nanika had never given him a “request” before now. As in, a request he couldn’t turn down.

So that was the end of it. Killua didn’t want to say no to her even if he had been allowed to. And Gon didn’t say it, he’d never say it out loud, but secretly, he thanked all the gods for Alluka and Nanika. Because he didn’t want to leave his friend, the same friend he had nearly lost because of something cruel he said not too long ago.

“...since this has nothing to do with you.”

How could he say something so mean? To his best friend, who had been trying to help him until now. To the one person who had never left his side.

Who had saved him from himself.

”No, Gon! Don’t do that, please! I-I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry...”

But why was he apologizing, when Gon was the one who had been a jerk? It just didn’t make sense, and at that moment, a small part of Gon wished that Killua had hated him instead.

But Killua never brought it up after that. Sure he had wheedled and guilt tripped an apology out of Gon, but for all Gon knew, he was just messing with him. He could tell that Killua wanted him to apologize, but it wasn’t enough. All he did was give him a weak “I’m sorry”, and that was that. The two didn’t mention it again.

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His phone rang.

It buzzed twice before Gon dug it out of his pocket. Killua pretended to startle awake, and it was a good attempt. He was a surprisingly decent actor. Gon of course knew better though.

He answered. “Hello?”

”Gon? It’s me.” A calm, androgynous sounding voice came through.

”Kurapika!” Gon shouted excitedly. With a casual yawn, Killua slid down onto Gon’s branch to see what the commotion was. Smiling, Gon put him on speakerphone.

”Yes, hi. I was wondering if my call would go through, considering where I am.”

”...where are you?” Gon asked cautiously.

”Stuck in an underground cave. It’s been a hectic month for me.”

Killua snorted. “That makes three of us.”

”Was that Killua?” Kurapika asked. “I’ve been trying to contact him, but he won’t pick up.”

”Yeah, I’m here.” Killua moved in closer so that his voice would go into the speaker better. “Sorry. I didn’t want us to be trackable, so I went ahead and tried to modify my phone a bit.”

”And how did that turn out?” Kurapika sounded like he already knew the answer.

”Guess.” Killua snarked. Gon passed the phone over to him. “Thankfully, it worked out better with Gon’s phone.”

”That reminds me, what exactly have you two been doing recently?”

”We finished Greed Island, fought in a war, rescued my sister, and now we’re on the run from the cops because someone—“ he glared at Gon, “—decided that hijacking a freaking motorcycle was a good idea.”

Gon hung his head in embarrassment.

”Sounds like you’ve had it rough.”

“Look who’s talking. We haven’t heard from you in months.” Killua switched to an accusatory tone. “Leorio had to fill us in about your going-ons so that we didn’t think you were dead.”

”...I’m sorry.” He sounded sorry, but also a little bit like he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t do it again.

”We’re not mad, just disappointed.”

”Smartass.”

”Anyway, was there something you wanted to tell us, or are you just calling to say hi?”

”Killua,” Kurapika’s voice suddenly took on a somber tone, “do you have a brother named Kalluto?”

”Yeah?” Killua seemed to be fearing the next thing that would be said.

”Well, he’s become a member of the Phantom Troupe.”

There was a pregnant pause. Killua’s hand shook, his shoulders hunched, and Gon felt the urge to reach out and try to steady his friend. But he held back, since he knew that it wasn’t his place.

Gon knew about Killua’s family, a clan of infamous assassins that had forced him to undergo brutal training his whole life. Gon felt his blood boil just thinking about it, especially the eldest, Illumi. He didn’t have the right to be anyone’s brother, let alone Killua’s. Gon promised he wouldn’t let Illumi hurt his best friend, not ever again. If he tries, then he better pray for himself.

But Gon knew next to nothing about the youngest of the family, Kalluto. He’d spoken to the feminine looking boy once before, but never saw him again after that. It had been when himself, Kurapika, and Leorio had launched a rescue mission for Killua, and climbed the family mountain to get to him. Afterwards, the youngest Zoldyck ran off with his mother, and that was the last time they saw him.

He wasn’t sure how Killua felt about his younger brother, but it was clearly very upsetting to him to hear this news.

”Killua?” Kurapika’s voice was gentle.

When Killua next spoke, both his tone and his expression were unreadable.

”How did you find out?”

There was no noise on the other end for some time, and then Kurapika spoke. “I was investigating their members one by one. You can imagine my surprise when I heard from some of my associates that a Zoldyck had joined the troupe.”

The silver haired boy remained silent. His already pale face was blanching even further by the second.

”Killua...”

”The Phantom Troupe,” now Killua’s voice had dropped an octave, “you still have the same plan, don’t you? That’s why you decided to tell me directly.”

”...yes.”

Gon’s stomach lurched as it finally hit him. Kurapika promised once that he would finish off the entire troupe, once and for all, to bring an end to the pain and suffering they cause, and for the sake of those who have been hurt or will be hurt. The Kurta Clan’s massacre was far from the only acts of genocide they have performed, after all.

It made Gon absolutely sick. It was just so unfair that they thought it was okay to kill people for their own benefit. No, they didn’t think it was okay, did they? They knew what they were doing was wrong, and they did it anyway. Like it doesn’t matter who dies as long as it’s not one of them.

Kurapika didn’t think that way. He knew that everyone was suffering because of the troupe, not just himself, and he was seeking to eradicate that misery they were bringing innocents.

But to do that, he would likely be forced to capture, arrest, or even kill each of the remaining members. Even the newer ones who have yet to act as part of the troupe itself. And that included Kalluto.

How did Killua even feel about Kalluto? Did he hate him like he did Illumi? Love him as much as Alluka? Felt indifferent or didn’t care? Gon didn’t know. It was a puzzle he just couldn’t solve. Though he was bad at solving puzzles either way.

Even so, it didn’t look like his cat eyed friend was taking the news very well, so he had to assume that however he felt about Kalluto, it was upsetting to know about him being in the Phantom Troupe.

Because it meant that Kurapika would very likely end up having to kill Kalluto.

Killua clenched his jaw. He looked sick, and when he spoke he sounded on the verge of throwing up.

”Kurapika... I trust your judgement. You know that.”

”But Killua—“

”Don’t.” He said it softly and sharply at the same time, and Gon noticed that he had sharpened his claws, and also that his fist was clenched so tightly that his razor nails were cutting into his palms. “Just promise... promise me that you’ll do what you think is right.”

Another long pause as Kurapika went silent, pondering a response most likely.

”I will. I swear by the Kurta Clan.”

”Thank you.”

With that, Killua hung up, clutching Gon’s phone close to his chest and he looked so hurt and broken and sad that the instinct to grab onto the former assassin returned tenfold, and this time Gon didn’t ignore it.

Killua didn’t so much as move an inch as Gon quickly wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, and as always, Killua felt cold to the touch and far more tense than he ought to be, and Gon made another declaration, this time out loud, that he wouldn’t let go.

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In another plane of existence, a different moment of time and a different location in space, a boy with forest green hair and viridescent eyes watched a star fall from the sky above him.

He’d been momentarily mesmerized, but got back to work immediately after. It’s been roughly an hour and a half since he started his daily training regimen, and he still had another two hours to go.

Some would say that he’s overworking himself, and maybe they’d be right. But it was hard work keeping himself in shape, and anyways, the idea was that he’d need to develop a body that could handle the full power of One For All.

Right now, every part of him ached. His thin but lean body was already slick with sweat. Well built arm muscles rippled as his raw and bloodied fists pummeled the sandbag. His legs struggled to support his weight, his shoulders feeling the impact of each punch. He knew that tomorrow he would be stiff as a board, but nothing he wasn’t used to.

Izuku Midoriya, also known as Deku, was hard at work as he always was. He knew he’d have to do this for years before he’d be quite on the level of his idol, the former number one hero, All Might. It was a reality that he’d not only accepted, but embraced fully. His build wasn’t quite as impressive compared to Sato, who could make himself into a meat monster just by eating sugar, or Todoroki who had a naturally sturdy build, or Bakugo whose stocky frame fit the nature of his quirk, but nonetheless, Izuku was determined to show that he could be on their level.

His lungs burned, but after a while, he switched to kicking exercises. Ever since he nearly did permanent muscle damage to his arms, he’s had to focus his attacks in his legs and whole body. He still made sure to work on punches and such, but considering that he could risk crippling himself, it wasn’t a priority.

It felt like centuries before it was over, but eventually the timer on his phone buzzed and he collapsed on the grass, his bones feeling like steel beams and his limbs heavier than lead. He worked to get air into his body, the lack of oxygen causing a sharp pain in his head. Maybe he overdid it this time. Aizawa would be pissed in the morning, a thought that made him queasy with dread.

Eventually his work out body cooled down a bit, and the freezing night air combined with his sweat caused chills to run down his spine. He should leave now and go back inside before he gets sick or something. It really wasn’t a smart idea to do this outside when it was only forty degrees. Even though Izuku tried to choose a warmer day, he hadn’t gotten any time to train during the day, so he’d been forced to fit it in at night.

Shivering, he dragged himself to his feet.

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A man smiled from behind a mask as he watched two worlds collide.

Chapter Text

One month later.

In the artificially heated confines of his office, the principle of UA High scribbled away at some paperwork, all while bored out of his mind.

Nedzu will be the first to admit that he’s not really a paragon of proper authority. But that’s mainly because he’s the first to let his curiosity run wild. Personally, he thinks it’s one of his far more admirable traits. He wouldn’t have made it to his current position if he hadn’t been the first to search for the truths of this world. But alas, work never rests, and Nedzu is on a severe time crunch. His thirst for knowledge would have to wait, at least for now.

Once he was done filling out orders for new school equipment (some of his first years ended demolishing the miniature training simulation set up for them, all while Aizawa raged quietly and made many desperate attempts to rein them all in. Nezu, meanwhile, thought it was hilarious.), he would have time to investigate last month’s phenomenon. Comets don’t randomly appear in the sky, much to many’s misconceptions, and he was going to figure out what happened exactly. Was it somebody’s quirk? Or something far more sinister? Nedzu had no doubt that he would find the answer, and his mind craved to continue the investigation.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

He put his pen down. The doorknob twisted open without waiting for Nedzu to respond, so he automatically knew who it was.

Four young men walked into the room, all with their heads held high and their backs straight, authority practically oozing out of their pores. Not in an oppressive kind of way, but in a strong yet comforting fashion. It was the kind that Nezu only ever saw in veteran heroes.

The head of the group bounced in with youthful vigor. Amused, Nedzu mimicked the boy’s friendly grin. He appeared the shortest of the quartet. Spiky dark hair was highlighted in deep green, and his suntanned skin emphasized his amber eyes. He wore a grass green jacket trimmed in orange and shorts that were identical. His boots were a similar fashion.

The second he saw Nedzu, his already bright eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. The principal could imagine why. He had that effect on most kids, and this one looked no older than a middle schooler. Maybe a first or second year.

“Woooah!” The kid exclaimed excitedly. “What are you? Are you a Chimera ant? No, you don’t seem like one…”

“Oi! Gon! Don’t be rude!”

Following ‘Gon’ was a tall, older man clad in a navy blue business suit. He could have been the boy’s father or elder brother, what with that head of jagged black hair, except his tone when speaking to the boy indicated otherwise. Far too gruff to be of any direct relation. In the man’s grasp was a small briefcase, with a red and black checkered pattern. 

He adjusted his rounded glasses. “You can’t just ask him what the hell he is before knowing his damn name! That’s just impolite.”

“And swearing isn’t?”

The third person to walk in was a shorter boy, younger and smaller than the man but older and bigger than the bright eyed kid. Nedzu could tell he could have been a third year at this school if he had ever enrolled, but anyone looking at him would assume he was… well, not a he. He had a distinctly feminine face and slim figure. Over a petite but athletic body and worn out white sweatsuit, he wore a long smock of cobalt, lined and trimmed with gold and with a belt cinched around his waist. He had neck length hair that was a similar yellow color to the patterns on his robe, and sharp, iron-gray eyes that held a certain degree of coolness and intelligence. Nezu recognized those kinds of eyes as ones that held many interesting secrets. Hopefully very interesting secrets.

“Eh?” The tall man turned to his blonde friend. “It’s just a stupid habit, dammit! And besides, words like ‘hell’ are hardly even swearing!”

“Honestly, you could stand to be a little less vulgar.” The younger man spoke with a smooth, androgynous voice. “And learn some volume control for that matter.”

He had a point there. Nedzu’s ears twitched a bit when the suited man spoke, as he was all but yelling. Still, it was amusing to say the least.

He almost didn’t even see the last person to come in. He was the same age as the first boy, and… gave off a very strange aura. One that could best be described as that of an animal on the lookout for prey. He had a shock of silvery white hair— as in, a literal shock, it was that messy— and catlike sapphire eyes. Speaking of catlike, he had the slender, athletic frame of a showcat. As he slinked into the room with a dangerous level of grace, he took care to lock the door behind him, and those icy eyes swept over and across the room like security cameras. This one is sharp.

Soon, all four males were standing in a straight line facing Nedzu, their backs straight and their faces set carefully. Though Nedzu could still see some of their individual personalities— the somewhat immature cheeriness of the first one, for example, or the impassive nature of the third— each of them stood shoulder to shoulder in a way that indicated practiced professionalism.

Interesting.

“Gentlemen,” Nedzu began graciously, “I’m very happy you could make it.”

“Yeah, you’d better be, plane tickets ain’t cheap.”

The tall man was promptly elbowed hard in the right side. He hissed angrily at the small blonde that hit him, but said small blonde merely stared straight ahead as though nothing had happened.

Nedzu continued, “I’m sure you’re all aware of why I’ve summoned you at a time like this. However, I’d like for us to get to know each other first.”

Just then, the tiny catlike boy spoke up for the first time, his voice oozing disdain. “Huh? You mean you brought us here without knowing what our names are?” He put his hands behind his head as if to be mocking, but it didn’t seem like he was being rude so much as he was being somewhat suspicious.

“Unfortunately, yes. I was told that you four were some of the most efficient Hunters to be seen in years, but nothing more than that.”

The little ‘Gon’ boy piped up, “You bet we are! We didn’t become Hunters for nothing!”

Nedzu chuckled. “I’m sure you know this already, but I’m Principle Nedzu of UA Academy! Am I a bear, a mouse, a dog? Who knows! A pleasure to meet you fine young sirs.”

They all merely nodded at his introduction.

“I’m Gon Freecs!” Announced the boy in green.

The tall man puffed his chest out. “Name’s Leorio Paladiknight!”

“I am called Kurapika.” Said the blonde. Nedzu noted the strange lack of a surname.

“I’m Killua.” Said the final boy. “...Zoldyck.” He finished, like an afterthought.

Nedzu merely smiled to himself. A perfect little opportunity was presenting itself to him, and now was the time to grasp it.

“I’m sure you young men are informed of your mission? If you have any questions, I’ll fill you in.”

“I have one.” Zoldyck interjected. “Why did you call us? By that, I mean you , specifically.”

Once again, Nedzu gave a knowing chuckle. “I have recently discovered quite a few anomalies in the system. I’m not sure how many others know about it, but…”

Nedzu paused, partially for dramatic effect, and partially because he was trying to find the best way to phrase this without giving anything away.

“...you understand how heroes work in this world, right?”

All of them nodded… except for the Freecs boy, who merely looked somewhat bemused. He looked to the left at Zoldyck, who gave him a pointed look and patted him tiredly on the shoulder. Nedzu quickly caught onto the fact that the two younger boys were close to one another. Makes sense, since the other two are a bit older.

Nedzu moved on. “Well, because of the systems put in place, they can’t freely investigate unless given permission to do so by the police, or some other authority. I, myself, am part of that authority in my own way, but few people know that.

“The law dictates that if a government sanctioned authority were to give the go ahead, then heroes would be allowed to investigate, and apprehend if need be. Unfortunately, this only applies to underground heroes and the like. They have special permission to work alongside government agencies and law enforcement. Even then, there are so many laws in place that it’s really just not possible to get things done quickly. Heroes just aren’t suited for work like that, but most cops only have basic training. If caught off guard by a villain or the like, it will likely result in casualties.”

“I’m guessing that’s where we come in.”

Kurapika had a hand under his chin, and Nedzu had to contain his admiration as the boy’s brain worked a mile a minute. “As Hunters, we don’t have the same restrictions as heroes do. Your logic is that our Hunter ID’s work like a driver’s license. It works wherever you go. You could say that we’re ‘heroes’ from another country sent to deal with the situation at hand. If anyone questions it, we can lie and say we have a gag order. We could also say all four of us are orphans and that’s why there are no records of us in Japan.”

He probably would have gone on, but Nedzu merely nodded in affirmation. “That’s right, my boy. Now, all we would need to do is give you hero names and ‘quirks’. Simple enough.”

The Hunters looked amongst themselves and nodded.

To be honest, not everything Nedzu is doing is completely legal. Not that it’s the first time. Still, he wasn’t sure that they could be punished for hiring mercenaries if the mercenaries in question weren’t even from this world. They’re walking a rather fine line between what’s accepted and what’s not.

Nedzu smirked. His beady black eyes glinted and darkened further than they already were.

If he could say one thing, it’s that this particular investment was going to be one hell of a ride.

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Class 1-A was in a state of panic.

One would think that based on the way they were running amok, scrambling to hide certain things and on the verge of having a ten-way fencing duel that they were all on the brink of madness and preparing for a villain attack. One of those assumptions was true.

The truth of the matter, however, was that they were trying to clean the place up before their new guests arrived.

They were told that a team of new young heroes would be joining them in the dorms for a while. Supposedly, these people were foreigners, and some of the best at that. Everyone was eager to make a good impression, except for one Katsuki Bakugo, whose first instinct was to scream at everyone to pipe down and threaten to blast them all to high heaven (he later ended up helping with the preparations, specifically the food, because “you damn extras don’t have a culinary bone in your stupid bodies”, or so he claimed), and Shoto Todoroki, who was peacefully stretched on the couch and somehow sleeping through the commotion around him, like some sort of elderly cat. Everyone more or less decided to just wake him up once the heroes arrived.

The class reps, Tenya Iida and Momo Yaoyorozu, were standing at the front doors with a very large “Welcome, Travelers!!!” banner held between the two of them. They’d originally had the phrase, “Welcome, Foreigners!!!”, but Iida nearly threw a hissy fit over the appropriate time and place to call attention to one’s ethnicity or background, so they agreed to change it.

Meanwhile, everyone else was in charge of getting the place clean before their arrival. Uraraka agreed to float the furniture to allow the others some room to work. Unfortunately, this ended up being counterintuitive; a cockroach was spotted scuttling out from under an armchair, prompting a ten minute game of cat and mouse as the girls (and Yuuga Aoyama) screamed and tried to kill it somehow. Mina Ashido tried to throw acid at it, which only melted the carpet, Kyoka Jirou went to stab it with her Earphone Jacks, resulting in several holes in the floor, and Toru Hagakure tried to crush it with a book, to no avail. As for Aoyama, he mostly hid in the kitchen screaming “KILL IT WITH FIRE!”

In the end, Tsuyu Asui flicked out her long frog tongue and ate it without a problem.

Of course, with a burnt carpet and a floor that resembled Swiss cheese, the dorms were far from looking presentable, so the cleaning process was pushed on for an hour.

By the time they were finally ready to greet their guests, they were all exhausted and ragged from stress (except Todoroki, who just woke up), not to mention wound up in anticipation. They stood at the entrance, a couple of people hiding as to surprise them. Everyone had party poppers and Aoyama and Hagakure were dangling up on the ceiling, courtesy of Uraraka, ready to flex their quirks and, for a lack of a better term, flash the new arrivals.

Sure enough, after a few… hours of waiting, they heard three pairs of footsteps approaching. The doors swung open, slow and deliberate.

Everyone jumped out as the lights flickered on.

“WELC—” was about as far as they got.

The person that had been the closest to the door, Denki Kaminari, let out a strangled cry. A violent explosion of yellow electricity caught everyone’s attention as the nearby decorations were fried by sparks of gold and… blue?

Kaminari, in all his glory, was wriggling around in the arms of a small boy. The stranger had his captive in a subduing chokehold, and his eyes, they were hypnotic. Everyone was stuck in place by the iciness of his glare, and the smug, dangerous smirk on his face. No one dared move, and after he tightened his grip, Kaminari froze, eyes wide with what could only be described as sheer terror.

Then…

“Killua!”

Another young boy bounded in, this one far more childlike and friendly than the first.

Abruptly, the boy with the cold eyes, ‘Killua’, let go of his prey. Kaminari scrambled away, hands flying to his throat, and stared at the kid that had just walked in.

Killua brushed a lock of silver hair out of his cold blue eye. “Sorry, man. I don’t like being jumped.”

No one said anything for a long time.

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Quirk entries:

Name: Gon Freecss

Alias: Greed (Member of the hero team “The Hunters”)

Quirk: Jajanken. 

Alignment: Pro Hero

Stats:

Power A- can blast away anything in his path. Will use it on people.

Mobility B- Naturally fast and athletic.

Technique B- Knows how to employ strategies, but more often than not lets his emotions control his actions.

Intelligence C- Knowledgeable in some areas, but doesn’t think things through.

Charisma A- Has a magnetic personality.

Quirk analysis: Can input energy in his hand and deliver a punch, palm strike, or a finger slice with immense power. He can put all his power into the attack, or just some of it to enhance his strikes. Immense offensive ability that puts him on a level that would make All Might nod his head in appreciation. Though it seems to drain his energy, he’s very resilient and it takes a lot to make him back down. This does have its drawbacks though. He has little options in terms of defense, and can sometimes suffer the negative effects of that kind of explosive power. He seems to have developed it in a way that he can control its output.

Ultimate Moves: Rock ; a megaton punch that he uses most frequently. Paper ; an open palm that releases energy. Scissors ; two fingers that slice like a sword through the enemy.

Costume: Simple, but recognizable. Very suited for combat, with gauntlets on both arms to lessen the kickback of his more powerful attacks.

Name: Killua Zoldyck

Alias: Volt Sterling (Member of the hero team “The Hunters”)

Quirk: Lightning

Alignment: Pro Hero

Stats:

Power A- Has natural strength combined with a deadly offense.

Mobility S- Can move faster than lightning.

Technique S- Displays skill far beyond his age, and can use a wide range of tactics.

Intelligence A- Is skilled at tactics, strategy, and analysis. Apparently sucks at math.

Charisma C-  Often rude to strangers.

Quirk analysis: His Quirk is an electric type like Kaminari, but it has vastly different applications. He can convert his life force into lightning and control the output at will. He has a variety of techniques, and can set things on fire with a single spark. He can shock his opponents, deliver electricity enhanced blows, create a meteor strike, stun and knock out his enemies, and can temporarily enhance his speed and reflexes by sending electrical signals throughout his body. He is capable of running out of lightning, especially if he’s low on energy. He seems to be able to get around this because his power requires him to “recharge” himself, or building electricity from an outside source. He has stated that he is not immune to the pain of an electric shock. Overall, his Quirk is extremely versatile.

Ultimate Moves: Palm Strike ; an electricity enhanced palm strike. Thunderbolt ; a concentrated attack from above. Godspeed: Whirlwind ; sends electrical signals through his brain to enhance his reflexes. Godspeed: Speed of Lightning ; enhanced running speed, while keeping him aware of his actions.

Costume: Normal clothes for the most part, but he carries special equipment. Two yo-yos are attached to his arms that weigh more than 50 kg, which he casually swings around faster than the eye can see.

Other Notes: Has previously exhibited behaviors that a kid his age shouldn’t ever. Can transform his hands into claws that are sharper than any knife. Knows techniques that look like Quirks but aren’t, such as the Rhythm Echo. Impossibly fast reflex time. Heightened senses that outclass wild animals. Durability and endurance that his entire physicality doesn’t support. According to him, these are natural skills, all likely unrelated to his Quirk. Something isn’t right…

Chapter Text

The streets of Hosu were strangely crowded at nighttime. Most likely because it seemed to be a city chock full of hero agencies, support gear companies, even a news station. People rushing around, trying to get where they need to go, it all starts to blend together in a dry mixture of fuzzy and incomprehensible noises once you spend too long in it. It’s a nightmare trying to find anything, even more so when it’s three a.m. and everyone who isn’t a hero or homeless ought to be indoors.

One blonde young man in particular seemed to walk with an air of both focus and authority, in spite of his youthful appearance. This boy donned a sharp black suit that was unbuttoned at the blazer, his tie loose and his sleeves rolled up. With his outfit being somewhat disheveled, it gave the impression that he’d been getting his hands dirty over the last few hours. He could easily be mistaken for a CEO or FBI member or some other government official— again, this was in spite of his youthfulness.

He held a strange looking phone close to his ear, his eyes locked on one thing in particular like the scopes on a pair of rifles.

“The target should be headed right to the spot.” A voice on the other end of the line spoke rigidly into the phone.

“Understood.” The blonde confirmed, his tone just as stiff and stony. Then he hung up.

Kurapika marched on ahead, ignoring the biting, suffocatingly cold winds that threatened to push him back. He’s dealt with far worse. Training oneself to withstand everything the world could think to throw at you tended to do that.

Kurapika entered a back alley, hands in his pockets, where they were clenched into tight fists and the nails cut into his palms. Any second now, it would be time, any second. He needed this.

Sure enough, he felt a spike of malicious intent behind him, and promptly tilted his head to the side. A crossbow bolt flew by his ear, missing by only a centimeter, and then glancing harshly off the brick wall in front of him with a loud clang .

He barely reacted when he heard a guffaw from the entrance of the alley, his assailant obviously caught off guard.

The Kurta spun on his heel, and summoned his chains. For now, he only needed to subdue and capture. All his chains had some degree of telekinetic connection to his mind, regardless of whatever abilities they happen to have. He could simply wrap them up, and they’d be powerless, completely at his mercy. Not that he had any mercy left to spare.

The attacker was hidden in the shadows under a hood of some sort. Kurapika needed no time at all to formulate a plan of attack.

The stranger shouted, “Who the hell’re you?”

Five feet six inches, female, aged thirty one to thirty four. Most likely smokes, and is out of breath for whatever reason. Not that he needed to know any of that, but it was certainly a habit he didn’t think he should try and break.

Kurapika didn’t respond to her question. Instead, he rushed her.

She reacted appropriately, firing arrow after arrow at him desperately, and yet he dodged every time. He ran in a zigzag pattern, so there was no way she was getting a clear shot. Once he was close enough, he latched onto her clunky weapon and twisted it out of her hands, and it fell away from her uselessly.

She took a step back, and her hands and feet were suddenly surrounded in blinding, sickly green light. A punch was thrown, and while he could have sidestepped, he needed to be sure of something. So he caught her fist in his hand with ease.

Beneath the shadows of her hood, her eyes blew wide open. “ What ?! But how? You shouldn’t even be able to move!”

So it’s not Nen. Just a quirk.

Kurapika roughly pulled off her hood, and took in her dark, shrouded eyes and pale reddish hair. And the blonde could have sworn he saw a hint of recognition in those same eyes, but it was quickly replaced by dread. In one swift motion, he knocked her off balance and flipped her onto her stomach, his hand on her back to keep her pinned down.

Before she could start to struggle, he summoned his weapons on his fingers. Less than a second later, she was wrapped head to toe in silver chains, arms pinned to her side, legs tied together, barely able to move with how tightly she was bound. She let out a pathetic grunt and feebly tried to break free, but Kurapika merely held her in place, her strength absolutely no match for his at all.

The young Kurta’s voice was icy and harsh. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten into, girl. Now what’s your name?”

She glared at him over her shoulder, but quickly gave in once he glared right back.

“Emi Hikari.” She muttered.

“Alright Emi,” there was the sound of a tiny blade being drawn, “you are going to tell me everything you know.”

Emi scoffed derisively, unbelieving, “And just how do you know that?”

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to do this, but regardless, he needs answers. So he channeled his energy and focused.

His veins began to boil, heart drumming painfully loud. Simmering hot blood rushed behind his eyes, burning and stinging as stars dancing across his vision. Every muscle in his body went tense, and rage, pure rage, hot and powerful and exhilarating , poured from his every being.

His eyes flickered. Behind the contact lenses, his pupils shifted, silver lighting up into scarlet like heated steel in a furnace.

Emi Hikaru suddenly shivered as she felt a spike of power from behind, and began to fear for her life.

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“You two are really pros?!” Kirishima exclaimed unbelievingly. “But you’re younger than we are!”

The shorter of the young boys, who earlier had introduced himself as Gon, glanced over at his partner before giving an awkward shrug.

They both sat cross legged on the couch, leaning tiredly on each other as if providing one another a source of support. They were about the same age, about two or so years younger than the rest of the class. Gon was bouncing excitedly and smiling at all the new faces, whereas the other one, Killua, responded to everyone’s attempts to greet him with a disinterested eyebrow raise.

Izuku had so many questions, about their quirks, their statuses as pros, their quirks, their other teammates, and of course, their quirks, but didn’t want to overwhelm them after their long journey, so he decided to just ask about it later. Didn’t stop him from absentmindedly looking around the area to see where he left his notebook.

His biggest question was obviously: how could kids so young be heroes? Typically, it’s illegal for anyone under fifteen to participate in official hero training, with only a few exceptions made here and there. If the kid skipped a grade, or if the growth of their quirk had been stunted for whatever reason, then it almost always took an inordinate amount of paperwork just to make it legal. Which just begs the question; how is it that two kids that look no older than thirteen not only be pros, but already have experience under their belt? Based on what Aizawa mentioned about the people they were hosting, these kids had seen more action than any of the kids in Class 1-A had within their school year. 

The cat eyed one in particular seemed to act and move a little older than he actually was; glancing around the area with askance, wearily skiving off any long winded inquiries he didn’t want to answer, and boldly speaking to his seniors in a way that was both disrespectful and demanding of respect itself. And he held himself in a way that made him seem both unpredictable and dangerous, and quiet and bored. At the moment, he reminded Izuku of a wild lynx that had broken into the dorms and was now just chilling on the couch without a care in the world.

“Tch, how can a bunch of brats like you already be pros?” Kacchan demanded, as forcefully as usual. “If anyone should be a pro before high school, it’s me!”

This time, Killua did speak. “Where we come from, age doesn’t matter in the slightest, nor does any prior training you’ve had or don’t have.” He smirked carelessly, his cobalt eyes sparking with a hint of amusement. “And you, sir, I can already tell you wouldn’t have what it takes.”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY—?!” Kacchan began, but Izuku cut him off.

“What do you mean?”

Gon looked like he wanted to say something, but one “keep your mouth shut” glance from Killua was enough to convince him to stay quiet, though he made a point of sinking into the couch dejectedly.

“There’s a special test you have to take to earn your license. It’s open to anyone willing to try, though less people than expected end up going through with it.” He put his hands behind his head and leaned back. “It involves a series of brutal trials that eliminate the wannabes, either by making them fail, forcing them to admit defeat, or just killing them.”

What?

Everyone’s heart stopped for a second, and they all looked at Killua as if wondering if he had said what he just said, mouths open and eyes wide with horror.

Killua either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because he purged on. “If you have the necessary skills to pass the test, you’re granted a license. That’s it.”

After a minute of silence, Gon finally piped up. “For our first test, we had to run for two days straight!”

“TWO DAYS?!” Everyone shouted.

“Hang on.” Todoroki, who had been taking refuge near the back of the room, inserted himself into the conversation. “There are supposed to be four of you. Where are the other two?”

Gon answered, “Kurapika and Leorio are both handling their own business, by order of Nedzu!”

“Meanwhile, the two of us are here to help all of you guys out with training and stuff.”

They spoke in tandem like they were used to explaining things together. Izuku supposed that they probably have to deal with a bunch of questions on a daily basis.

Also, Izuku couldn’t help but notice something. Todoroki was staring hard at Killua from the corner that he took refuge in, not in a bad way, but in an appraising way, like he had his own questions he wanted to ask. Killua himself had shot him dirty looks in return every now and then, but was otherwise engaged with Gon. Izuku made a mental note to talk to Todoroki later and see what was up.

Once everyone had exhausted their questions and Gon and Killua mentioned something about having to meet up with Leorio early in the morning, Uraraka took the time to show them to their guest rooms. Strangely though, they insisted on staying in the same room, and even went through a round of Rock Paper Scissors to see who would be the first to take the floor. They were obviously kids, but not in the sense that they were childish. They seemed to be normal around each other, but looking at them separately, they were miles away from any sort of average Joes.

But Izuku didn’t feel uneasy around them like he thought he would. Of course, he was expecting to feel excited, considering they were going to be hosting a team of pros, but given what they knew about these heroes, he wasn’t sure if he would be nervous in a good way or a bad way. So many questions, and so little he already knew.

It wasn’t until around two in the morning that he decided that he should be careful what he wishes for.

He’d been not-so-peacefully dozing off into a sort of half asleep stupor, wondering if he’d receive another dream about One For All and its users, when a sudden weight on the edge of his bed made him startle awake.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked over his feet.

Killua was hovering over him.

“ SON OF A—! ”

The student nearly screamed as he jolted out of bed and landed harshly on the floor, face first.

In the dark of night, he didn’t initially recognize the intruder, only barely registering it as Killua when he looked back up at the form that was still standing on his bed. For a brief moment, when he was on the floor, disoriented from exhaustion, he felt his body lock up in fear; every muscle seemed to shut itself off as his heart jumped and his skin crawled. If those icy orbs were unnerving in the brightness of the setting sun, then they were scary as all hell when the lights were off. It felt like looking into the eyes of a panther, and it terrified him more than any kid’s eyes should’ve.

“I was going to ask if you were awake, but looks like there’s no need.” Killua deadpanned, his voice a little too naturally quiet.

“W-Wh— what the… h-how—?” Izuku sputtered, “how did you get in here?!”

“You should probably lock your doors.” The younger boy responded casually.

“What does that even mean ?!”

“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake up the whole damn country.”

When the boy’s outlined figure jumped off the bed, it was surprising when the impact of his landing made no noise whatsoever.

“Come with me.”

Izuku didn’t say anything, because Killua’s tone had suddenly dipped into a disturbingly serious one. It was creepy how such a small boy could sound so forceful.

When the greenette still said nothing, Killua merely grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and hauled him out the open door. The lights were still off, so the ominous vibes the pro was giving off shot up like a rocket.

“What are we—?”

“ Shh! ”

They arrived at the lounge before long, though at that point, Izuku had been dragged around so thoroughly that he didn’t immediately recognize the situation.

Sitting on the couch was All Might, his scraggly, bony form making him look like some sort of ghoul, especially since the only light was coming from a small lamp nearby. He was hunched over in what the successor knew was his “thinking” posture, recognizable by the slump of his shoulders, shoulders that carried half a lifetime of heavy burdens.

Next to him was Gon. He didn’t look particularly tense, but there was an anxious twitch in his fingers and feet, as he sat cross legged on the couch with his hands on his feet, like a small kid waiting for mysterious news from their parents.

Another man, one Izuku didn’t recognize, was collapsed in a leather chair, the professionalism of his navy blue suit and tie clashing with the tired, casual way he leaned back into his seat. He looked somewhat old, but somehow it was obvious that he was pro as well. The briefcase he had at his feet was propped against his leg.

“Young Midoriya.”

Izuku stood up a little straighter after being addressed by the Symbol of Peace, the tension in the atmosphere suddenly making him feel a little ill.

“Y-Yes, sir?”

What came next sounded like an executioner’s blade dropping more than it did someone speaking human words.

“There is something we must discuss with you.”

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Name: Kurapika

Alias: Guillotine

Quirk: Chains

Alignment: Pro Hero

Stats:

Power A- Has many different offensive options.

Mobility B- Is both fast and reactive.

Technique A- Is a skilled tactician.

Intelligence S- Genius level IQ.

Charisma B- Is good at leading.

Quirk Analysis: He can summon chains on his fingers and use them as weapons. He has five in total, each of them having a different ability. The chain on his thumb can heal wounds by transferring his life force to someone else. The chain on his middle finger can bind his enemies in unbreakable bounds, though he has yet to truly use this ability (his chains can be broken, but he is apparently able to simply summon them back). The chain on his ring finger is used for finding things, whether it be an object, or the truth. The chain on Kurapika's little finger can only be used while his eyes are scarlet. When used, the chain will pierce through the victim's chest and wrap around their heart. Once the chain is in place, Kurapika will set two conditions, which the victim has to follow. If they don't follow these conditions, the chain will crush their heart, instantly killing them. The chain on his index finger has yet to be used. 

Can enter a state in which his eyes turn scarlet and his abilities are all enhanced. He refuses to speak about this part of his quirk. We’ve been informed that it is for personal reasons. He may be similar to Todoroki.

Ultimate moves unknown.

Costume: A simple white sweatsuit under a long blue robe. He carries a bokken with him for close combat. He also carries a variety of knives and other bladed weapons, as well as a gun (scary!).

Other notes: He had no surname and becomes reclusive when asked about his personal life, especially when it’s about before his career. Has mentioned having a personal goal to move towards, but didn’t elaborate beyond that. He’s seeming more and more like Todoroki, but there’s something different.

Chapter Text

“How the hell did this even happen?” Leorio demanded.

He peered past the privacy curtain and over at the occupant of the hospital bed. The man lying in the cot had wounds that he had never seen before in his life. Dark bruises speckled his chest and arms, all in various stages of healing. Sickly shades of different colors made his skin look like some sort of fucked up piece of abstract art; blood red, hues of blue and violet, black, green, yellow, you name it. Each bruise had a strange circular shape.

The woman next to Leorio, clad in a hot pink leather spandex suit and cloaked in a white cape, shook her head despairingly. “I don’t know. I found him on the sidewalk, close to passing out. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t even speak properly.”

The med student frowned, frustrated. “Then I’ll just have to ask him a few questions when he wakes up. Bastard better tell me how the shit he managed to get into this position.”

There was a movement beside him, low at his waist. He turned to see a small elderly lady rolling up in a spinning chair, her gray hair collected into a bun at the back of her head.

Recovery Girl sighed, “I’m afraid you may have to wait until tomorrow morning for that. He’s going to be out of it for a while after I use my quirk.”

Leorio almost clicked his tongue, only to quickly remind himself that he was in the presence of an elder, and he should try and be polite. Kurapika would give him a smack on the ear again. “Stupid ass… ugh. That’s fine, I guess. I got the pictures, and I ran every test in the book. There ain’t seem to be nothing else I can do until he’s conscious, anyway.”

“That’s good, I suppose.” Recovery Girl wheeled herself so that she was standing over the man, leaned down, and pecked him on the nose. Sure enough, a few seconds later there was a faint, pale green light and a calming aroma of aloe emanating from the injured person’s wounds. Man, if he had a power like that, he could’ve gotten into med school so much sooner.

What was strange was that the bruises were so spread out, and of the exact same size, so it was obviously not from some sort of accident. They looked almost like bullet wounds, but without the bullets. But he wasn’t wearing any body armor or bulletproof gear, and no one found anything like that on the site.

The old heroine grabbed him by the sleeve of his blazer, staring him down. He felt a chill when he looked her in the eye, realizing that she had an absurd amount of strength for someone her age.

“You should get some rest. You look stressed.”

He let out a mirthless laugh. “Since when is a med student not stressed? It’s practically in our job description.”

She laughed as well, and it also sounded tired. “I hear that, boy. They should at least make some sort of warning. ‘May increase your levels of cortisol’, or something like that.”

“But damn,” he muttered, “what am I supposed to do about this bullcrap?”

“I’m not sure, honey.” Recovery Girl rolled away, eyes cast down. “But you still need to sleep. Take that empty cot over there.

“I gotta meet up with my friends first. It’ll be a while, but I’ll be back soon enough.”

To be honest, he can’t remember the last time he slept for more than four hours. It always seemed like he was dealing with something . Training for the Hunter Exam, med school, the Election, and now this pile of crap! He can’t catch a break!

“Very well then.” The nurse gave him a small handful of what looked like fruit gummies. “Since you clearly haven’t been eating right. Vending machines these days, why can’t they sell healthy food?”

“What are…?”

“Just some vitamins.” She answered. “Now go on your way. I need some beauty sleep of my own as well.”

“Beauty sleep? But you’re an old ha—”

He was swiftly interrupted by a sharp pain in his gut as Recovery Girl introduced her fist to his stomach. Yep, way too much strength.

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Izuku could feel his hands shaking violently, but he balled them into fists in order to hide his ever accumulating anxiety.

The smallest of the males in the room, Gon-san, gave him a bright and encouraging smile. “You don’t have to be scared, Izuku!”

Well, he failed.

All Might’s sunken eyes pierced into his own dark green. His mentor had always been a source of comfort and reassurance, but now Izuku’s gut churned even worse, because the poor man was so tired and broken and defeated, and it felt as though a single touch would send him crumbling to ash, then swept away into the harsh winter winds. He looked more worn down than ever, and that was saying something considering he constantly looked like a dried up mummy that was missing its bandages. His face was so pale and waxy that he could easily pass for one, and his constant slouch was more prominent than ever before.

Killua-san spoke up, looking far more serious and solemn than any kid his age should be. “We should probably get it all out there.”

The man in the suit jolted upright, and it was only now that Izuku noticed that he, too, looked rather tired. “We can’t just dump all that shit on him, his brain will explode.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Killua-san dismissed, “he’s not Gon.”

“Hey!”

By the looks of it, Killua-san seemed to currently be taking charge of the meeting, even more so than All Might. Which only increased Izuku’s nerves.

“That idiot over there in the suit is called Leorio Palidiknight, he’s one of us Hunters.”

Oh, he heard of him. Apparently, Leorio was the oldest of The Hunters, and served them best as a combat medic. His quirk, like all the others, was unknown, but hopefully he can ask questions about them later. Because honestly, Izuku has a feeling that he’ll have a lot of questions by the time all this is over.

Killua-san glanced over at All Might, his gaze darkening by the second as the former Number One grew more and more confused and squirmed under the little boy’s stare. Then there was a cough of realization, and All Might shifted forward to talk to Izuku.

“Young Midoriya… what do you know of other worlds?”

That… was out of the blue. Other worlds? What was he talking about? What does all this secrecy have to do with other worlds? It’s not as though such a concept exists, right?

“Um, well, I know that some quirk theorists think that our powers come from spaces across time, and that there are universes parallel to our own with abilities that rival our own, but...” In truth, the very concept was interesting to learn about, so he spent an unhealthy amount of time looking into it. He’s heard of places beyond this current world, ones where many things thought to be impossible existed, just as superpowers were thought to be fantastical. Flying men and women were thought of as impossible, super strength was seen as the stuff of comic books.

He wondered if there could also be worlds in which quirks didn’t exist at all. Who would he have become if he had grown up in a place where everyone was ordinary like he used to be. But the idea was simply absurd. He wrote it off as wishful thinking a very long time ago. There was just no way.

He continued with his train of thought, “But that theory was thrown out the window a long time ago. It was considered ‘absurd’ and ‘an idea made by a team of crackpots’, so to speak.” And he couldn’t exactly disagree. I mean, who would actually believe any of that—

“Well, it’s actually true, my boy.”

What .

“Or, the idea of other worlds is true. That theory itself is entirely incorrect. Right for the wrong reasons, as they say.”

Why.

Freaking why .

Killua-san takes a deep breath, and Izuku steels himself for whatever is going to happen next.

“We come from a different world. One where there are no heroes, but there is this organization of elite mercenaries and adventurers that are called Hunters. We don’t save people, we go about our own journeys without laws restraining us. None of us have quirks, but we are capable of learning a special spiritual power called Nen.”

“I… what?”

He’s already lost. But for some reason, the part about them not having quirks stuck out most. It was insane, really. He saw Killua grab Kaminari in less time than it takes to blink. How can that not be a quirk? And if they don’t have quirks, then what is it they have? This “Nen” power? And Hunters aren’t just a team, they’re a whole bunch of people?

“But what we need to talk about,” Killua-san continued, either ignoring or not noticing Izuku’s obvious bewilderment, “is the looming threat that you and your heroes face.”

Now if the hero in training was tense before, this was certainly a cause for anxiety. He seriously almost heard the moment his brain stopped working and crashed like an outdated computer.

All Might jumped in. “Everyone in this room, Principal Nedzu, and the one member of their team that is not here are the only ones who know the finer details.”

Could it be… is it All For One? That’s the only possible explanation, right? Or maybe a threat on the rise, one that’s unprecedented? That would be a good reason as to why no one knows about this.

“C-Could it be… this threat comes from another world too.”

Leorio-san nodded. “Sharp kid.”

Killua took over once more. “It’s been causing havoc for weeks now. We’re going to give you a file overviewing all the damage that’s been caused in the past sixteen to seventeen days.”

Seventeen days?! How long has all this been happening for?

“But the main reason we decided to inform you is because we’re going to ask you an important favor.”

Gon-san suddenly stood up on the couch, his feet bouncing up and down on the soft cushions. “You need to help us stealth train the students of UA!”

Stealth train? Like, training without the other person knowing that you’re training them? Is that even possible?

“Young Killua, Young Gon, and their teammates are going to help the others in your class during training exercises. Your job is to help them in any way you can think of. Your analysis notebooks should provide them with all the knowledge they need, as will your critical thinking skills. Gon-san in particular will need your assistance.”

“Quit being so mean!”

Izuku nodded. Whatever this new threat was, it was something All Might entrusted his disciple to take on and defeat. He won’t let his mentor down, and he won’t let The Hunters down either.

Just then, Leorio-san’s phone buzzed loudly. He jumped at the sudden noise before retrieving it from his pocket. When he saw the message that had been sent to him, the small eyes behind his glasses widened with an unidentifiable mix of emotions.

“Guys, we need to pick up Kurapika. He says that he may have something big.”

Chapter Text

Way high atop a mountain of mist sat a mansion of pure riches.

In this mansion lived a family. Not the entire family, just a family. An incomplete family. One that was shrouded in myths, sheltered by many secrets. A complete mystery. Two parents, one grandparent, two great grandparents, and five children; that was the only definite fact.

Those who knew of the myths thought a great many things about this family. They thought a great many things, but what they knew was infinitesimal. All they had to go off of was a series of stories that were either ridiculously vague, completely overexaggerated, or just plain false.

Some say that they’re not human, that they are descended from gods or monsters. Or maybe they’re government experiments that went awry for whatever reason. Perhaps they were blessed with powers beyond that of a normal human by whatever deity exists up there. That could be why they’re so secretive, why no records exist of them on the whole earth.

Some say that they have fangs filled with venom like cobras, retractable claws like wild cats, and the strength of a hundred gorillas. Some say that they have the devil’s eyes like a goat, and that they can paralyze you with nothing more than a single glance. Some even go as far as to say that if you stare them in the eye for too long, you’ll be cursed and die.

Some even say that their eldest son once silently murdered ten thousand politicians and world leaders in a single night like it was nothing. That the youngest led a revolution against an evil queen. That the official heir to the family was the most dangerous human alive.

They knew nothing of the cub that had left its den.

Or of the wolf that had gone to hunt it down, using a net woven from a spider’s silk.

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The walls were made of concrete and beams of steel, yet it was close to the brink of collapse all the same. The ceiling dripped rainwater and some other substance that might as well have been unidentifiable. A wide, mostly empty space that made you feel small and insignificant stretched for quite a bit before stopping where the walls met each other. The only light came from the holes in the foundation, shining down on the dark, damp interior of the building in severe contradiction to the dreary atmosphere. That light alone was the only thing that would prevent you from tripping on rubble that piled up along the edges of the shelter, or stepping in a hole created by a crack in the concrete and twisting your ankle. All in all, it was a hazardous, dismal, and wholly uncomfortable place to call home.

And home it was, at least to Kalluto.

Certainly more home than the mansion, with its stifling barriers that separates them from the rest of the world, as well as from each other, and the fact that he spent his days isolated and bored, nothing to do except train, sleep his days away, and hide himself from the strangers he lived with. 

Ten whole years Kalluto lived in that house, and everyone except his mother and Killua were all unknown variables. Math had never been the strong point of the family, but they were smart enough that complex equations were nothing but childish labor. Mom plus dad equals five children, but other than that, he didn’t bother to decode the rest. Illumi was that one unknown that no one ever wanted to figure out. Milluki was too simple to be anything other than what he was, and that was frustrating enough. And Killua? Who knows.

Kalluto wishes he did.

But he doesn’t.

He curls himself against the wall, too tired and listless to do anything but wait. He tried training in order to get rid of his ennui, but even that got tedious after a while, the same routine of deadly swipes and dance-like movements feeling more and more useless by the second. 

Maybe he should take up another job. Illumi used to say that nothing is more exciting than a sense of purpose. The idea that Illumi was capable of feeling excitement was something that made Kalluto scoff, but nonetheless, he had a point. Nothing says “job well done” like watching your enemy’s blood pool around your feet—

Someone is coming.

He would have been on guard, but he already knew who it was.

Frankly, Kalluto never liked Illumi. Not because the eldest son of the family was ever uncivil towards the rest of them, but because he could best be described as obsessive. Namely, he obsessed over Killua in a way that, in Kalluto’s opinion, was completely unnecessary and more than a little disturbing. Of course, while he didn’t care much about Illumi’s tendency to look and act like a nightmare come to life (because that same rule applied to pretty much their entire family), he did have a problem with those irritatingly blank eyes.

Some part of him wanted to believe it was inherited from Mother, but that just wasn’t it. Mother was obsessive at times, he could admit that. But she was also sweet and gentle in her own way, and her smothering of her children was one of the only normal things about their family. Kalluto always appreciated her doting nature, the very same nature honed from years of wanting someone to care for and love. Mother had come from Meteor City, a place that breeded humans that weren’t wanted, and had grown up to be a lethal hitwoman in her own right. Of course, given the city was actually just a giant landfill full of anonymous inhabitants, it’s no wonder she never found love there.

Illumi approached, his eyes showing nothing but a blank abyss, as per usual. His height meant that Kalluto would have had to crane his neck upwards to look at him, but he stubbornly refused to, if only because the youngest Zoldyck didn’t see the point of interacting with him.

“Kalluto.”

The younger boy turned his head away.

Either Illumi didn’t understand the message that was being sent his way, or he simply didn’t care, because he kept going. “The others are getting ready. We leave in three days, time.”

“I’m aware of that, Illu-nii.” Kalluto droned back. The childish nickname used to be a term of endearment for the younger siblings of the family, but as time went on, it was less affectionate and more hateful, like a vulgar slur. Well, at least to Killua. Kalluto mostly picked it up out of habit, but unlike during his younger years, the girlish looking boy inflected absolutely zero fondness into his tone. “Are you going to join the meeting?”

“Hisoka expects me to.” Illumi responded. Even though he didn’t seem capable of emoting, Kalluto thought he seemed rather displeased at the mention of Hisoka. Not that he blamed him; that perverse clown was the most extraordinary creep Kalluto had ever met.

“What about you?” The long haired man inquired. “Are you joining us?”

Kalluto barely glanced at his brother. “What’s the point? I have nothing to say regardless.”

“The others are going to think you’re plotting.” Illumi warned.

Well that’s a ridiculous notion if he ever heard one. “What on earth would I ever be plotting? To take over the world? The murder of their whole families?”

“Don’t give them ideas. We can’t afford to be sidetracked when we’re already this close.”

Kalluto grit his teeth. Though his face betrayed nothing, inside he was brimming with vexation— more so than he should be.

In less than a second, he had gone from being over ten meters away from his older brother to just a few steps. They stood… not exactly face to face, but regardless, Kalluto gave him a cold glare, his violet-red irises sharpening in the dark.

“And just how, pray tell, are we any closer to our goal than we were yesterday? Or the day before that? Or the past three months?” The kimono wearing boy didn’t usually get this angry, but even in a state like this, he kept his countenance stony and still. “Illu-nii, we are going nowhere. Staying in this godforsaken troupe won’t lead us anywhere to our end goal. It is a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less.”

He hadn’t raised his voice, hadn’t let his face be changed, yet the message was loud and clear: Illumi could claim whatever he wishes, but the fact of the matter is that he was wasting their time with trivialities.

But as always, Illumi merely stared blankly at his youngest brother, with those same damn eyes that resembled less a human and more a pickled shark. Creepy bastard.

Only after he was done with his several second long stare that was designed to make any and all non-Zoldyck’s wholly uncomfortable did he speak. “This hasn’t been for naught, brother. You will see in three days time.”

Kalluto merely scoffed. “I daresay, Illu-nii, that you’re judgement is being severely clouded. You know what father would say.”

“Father isn’t here right now.”

Kalluto had no response to that, so he remained silent.

“In regards to my sense of judgement, I assure you Kalluto, I am making this decision knowing I will not regret it.”

Having heard enough, Kalluto quickly zipped back over to his corner of solitude. He supposed being ignored was a natural drawback of being the youngest, yet that fact did nothing to console his simmering temper. Still, Mother always said that part of being an assassin was taking risks in order to reach the prize.

Illumi didn’t care much for his other siblings. This was something Kalluto had long been aware of, and he ruminated on it as the man stiffly walked out of the room. But perhaps his brother’s obsessive fixation could prove useful in claiming the prize.

At the very least, it would make it nigh impossible for Killua to escape them a third time.

Chapter Text

It’s not often that kids younger than high school are allowed on UA campus, but Gon and Killua seem to be in their natural habitat. That, or they were too busy going back and forth at each other to really be fazed by their environment, even more than their older teammates.

Class 1-A stood in a wide semicircle before the four pros, who were lined up side by side. An awkward silence settled over the group of kids; Aizawa had yet to arrive to class, likely because he was taking a nap in the teacher’s lounge, so without any instruction on what to do, everyone stood uneasily as the students sized up the two men they had yet to meet.

The man they knew to be Leorio Paladiknight (“Leorio-san” he had insisted, before the blonde next to him told them not to call him that) was digging through his briefcase with a surprising amount of vehemence, pulling out small items such as a bottle and a scalpel that looked like it could fit in a fly’s hand, it was so small. 

The blonde stood only a meter to the side, hands behind his back and gaze straight ahead. He might as well have been a statue. 

Kurapika (he didn’t give a surname) refused to say a word once his introduction was complete, although when Midoriya asked if he could maybe get an explanation of their quirks once their training was over, Kurapika sighed and gave an unsure “I guess” gesture. There seemed to be walls around himself that no one knew how to penetrate.

And the youngest two? They were casually playing various rounds of Rock Paper Scissors, the shorter of the two frequently letting out whines of frustration, and the paler one wearing a smug grin. It seemed they were trying to compete for some sort of right, but exactly what the bet was placed on was unclear as they kept at it.

When Aizawa finally arrived, there was another person behind him. The newcomer had more or less been using the dark haired man as a human shield to block everyone’s line of sight, but now they were too close for that to work anymore, so now they were forced to be gawked at.

Midoriya caught a glimpse of violet hair and a gym uniform swathed in capture tape.

“Shinsou-kun!”

Shinsou sighed.

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“Today’s training will be simple.” Aizawa said with a clipboard in hand. “I’ll be randomly assigning you into three groups.” He gestured to the four pros, “Seven people will go to Kurapika-san,” Kurapika nodded with an unchanging expression, “seven will go to Leorio-san,” Leorio looked up from what he was doing, “and seven will go to Gon-san and Killua-san.” Gon raised his hand and waved, prompting Killua to grab his arm and force it back down with a blank look.

Ochako Uraraka stood next to her friend Deku, her heart racing. Getting the chance to train with a whole team of pros was quite the treat at UA, but something about these four young men and the idea of learning what they had to teach made her nerves tingle with excitement. Anytime Ochako got to train, she felt pumped up, but now? She was super psyched!

Kurapika stepped forward towards the group; a couple of girls perked up when he did. None of them could help it very much, since the blonde had a commanding presence and a calm, refined aura about him. It helped that he was easy on the eyes too, and couldn’t be much older than any of them.

“Greetings. I will be administering lessons on stealth, close quarters combat, and quick thinking skills. Your teacher has informed me that you are severely lacking in all three departments.”

Everyone wilted a little, while Aizawa looked unapologetic.

“Therefore, I will also be taking notes on your reflexes and learning speeds so I’ll be able to adjust my lessons accordingly to your individual needs. Bear in mind that anyone who causes any trouble for their classmates…”

His eyes glinted dangerously as he hardened his stare; for a moment, a few people saw a flicker of deep red.

“...will not be given a warning.”

Everyone shuddered deeply, even the more stoic of students.

Behind the students, Aizawa nodded approvingly.

Ochako twitched and shrank under his gaze. Kurapika gave off an imposing and slightly intimidating aura, like someone who had seen and done far too much in his life. She wanted to know how he’d acquired such a presence about him, still being as young as he was. He looked to not even be out of his teens yet. She had been so pumped, too, but now she just felt nervous. 

Curiously, she looked over at Bakugo, who was standing slightly away from the group, shoulders hunched and arms crossed defensively, looking thoroughly disheartened and— dare she say it, daunted? Seems like not even the class’s most difficult student was going to risk acting out, lest he incur Kurapika’s wrath.

Satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten, Kurapika clasped both hands behind his back once more and smiled pleasantly, as though nothing had happened.

“That being said,” his face brightened ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, “thank you for having me instruct you.”

Although Ochako tried to keep her focus off of boys, even if they were attractive, she found that her face was starting to superheat and she had gone stock still with awe and why is he so dang pretty ? Even his terrifying scowl was hot!

She shook it off. Focus!

Leorio straightened his back, grinning widely, which was a nice change compared to the very deadpan expression of the blonde beside him. “Alright you brats!” His somewhat intense tone didn’t exactly match his countenance. “The name is Leorio-san.”

“They already knew that,” Killua, who had remained silent until that exact moment, pointed out dryly.

“Shut it, you!” The older man turned to glare at the younger, but quickly refocused himself on the class. “Anyway, I’m an official combat medic back home, so I’ll be teaching you amateurs some basic first aid. After all, your nurse ain’t gonna be able to get to you in time if you’re trapped in a cave of something.”

Ochako hadn’t thought of that. The whole school, and even some heroes, depend on Recovery Girl for emergency healing, but what if emergency services can’t reach them? And what’ll happen in about thirty, forty years when she’s no longer around? Healing quirks are pretty rare, so how are they going to help someone who needs immediate care? The gravity girl felt her chest tighten at the thought. She didn’t want to dwell on it.

Well, now is as good a time as any to learn, isn’t it? She’ll do her best, one way or another.

Finally, the two youngest of the quartet stepped forward. Everyone had already met them, aside from Shinsou, but now they seemed… different somehow. Like they weren’t even kids at all, but grown adults that looked like kids. Gon had a look of excitement, but it wasn’t the same as his childish energy from yesterday, the energy that made him seem immature. It was more like…

Ochako shifted uneasily.

It was more like a bull getting ready to wreck shop. It was almost animalistic.

But even Gon didn’t have a thing on Killua.

He was semi-casually eying the group with his hands in his pockets, sizing them up with intense scrutiny, gauging their strength. It made Ochako want to hide behind someone, the way his sharp cat eyes scanned everyone, a panther about to pounce on his prey.

He let himself break out into a cocky grin, and more than a few people shuddered.

When he spoke, his voice was low but firm, and Ochako only ever heard that tone from her father when he was directing his construction workers.

“Gon and I will give you lessons on proper quirk usage in battle and situational awareness.” He put his hands behind his head. “I can tell just by looking at you that half of you don’t know how to incorporate your quirk into your fighting style.”

Several people flinched at that. Plenty of people knew exactly who they were, and those who didn’t merely stared ahead nervously. Deku was lost in thought, presumably overthinking things again.

Killua continued, “The other half are clueless to their surroundings when they fight. You realize that heroes are supposed to prevent property damage, not cause it?”

With that, Bakugo scowled murderously.

“So I’ll be giving you pointers on how to not get the people around you killed because of your dumbassery. Gon here will be my teaching assistant, or something.”

Once again, Gon waved. And once again, Killua forced his hand down.

“Any questions?” Aizawa asked.

Ochako thrust her hand up. So did everyone else.

She could practically hear their teacher rolling his eyes behind them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kurapika clenched his jaw in frustration.

He was attempting to teach his group of seven how to tail someone by disguising your footsteps and moving in a way that kept your clothes from being ruffled. Key word being attempting , because no one seemed to be taking his advice.

Toru Hagakure was the only one who seemed to be absorbing the lesson. She took like a duck to water, masking her steps perfectly. Since she was only invisible without her clothes, she didn’t need to know the other maneuver.

The others, however…

There were various problems with getting his group to learn stealth. Momo Yaoyorozu wore high heeled boots with her hero costume, which prevented her from walking in a way that didn’t resemble a dinosaur. There were various other problems Kurapika had with her outfit, but he deemed that it would be better to bring it up at a later date.

Eijirou Kirishima walked like a goddamn golem. His steps were loud and clunky and his general personality was too… much to be of any use in a stealth setting. His energy could be utilized for anything else, but not being quiet.

Tenya Iida was the opposite of slow and quiet. His speed quirk, bulky build, and mechanical movements made him too stiff, and watching him attempt to tiptoe across the field was genuinely painful to watch.

Mina Ashido and Hanta Sero were both too busy goofing off to follow any directions. Neither of them were paying much attention to the lesson in favor of gallivanting about like a pair of lambs frolicking in the meadow without a care in the world. Mina made a joke about Iida being a robot and Hanta cackled madly as if Kurapika hadn’t just told them to stop fucking around and get to work. He was just about to tell it to them a second time when...

“Why the fuck do we need to learn how to tail people?!” Katsuki Bakugo demanded, sparks crackling at his fingers.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Kurapika often found it hard to talk to the boy. Part of it was because of those eyes. Kurta eyes were a very specific shade of bright scarlet that is said to glow in the dark and burn like fire. This boy had eyes like blood, dark and menacing, but it was still red , and Kurapika didn’t know how to talk to him without averting his gaze or being reminded of—

“Because, Katsuki,” Kurapika kept his voice level, in spite of his rapidly decreasing patience, “some missions involve stealth, and playing it safe. And besides, once the target is in a suitable position, you’ll have the element of surprise on your side.”

It really didn’t surprise him that the other blonde was so averse to stealth training. The only noise that carried more than the sound of Katsuki’s nuclear level explosions was his screaming. It seemed that he was incapable of both impulse control and knowing when it was appropriate to use his indoor voice.

The Kurta felt like his ears were going to pop as the fellow blonde got right up in his face and yelled like a maniac. He’s kind of a less likeable Leorio.

“Why the hell do I gotta listen to you ?”

“Because I am instructing you.”

“Fuck you!”

“Buy me dinner first.”

Katsuki froze, his eyes wide with shock and a vein bulging out of his forehead. He made a few indignant noises, his rage seemingly having a fight with his bafflement.

Then, he raised a palm to strike. “DIE!”

Before he could even bring down his hand, he was stopped.

The explosion went off to the side, both his arms pinned at his sides as a pair of thick, silver chains wrapped around his shoulders and torso, effectively keeping him in place.

Kurapika’s patience has finally run dry.

“If you are not going to cooperate,” the golden blonde threatened, eyes flickering dangerously red, “you may sit this lesson out and let everyone here know that you are incapable of following simple instructions. If you can’t learn one of the most basic stealth techniques ever, then that says everything I need to know about your level of commitment.”

Katsuki was completely still, his frustration reaching a boiling point as he snarled at his fellow blonde.

When Kurapika was sure that he wouldn’t be assaulted again, he allowed the chains to slacken until Katsuki could shake himself free of the bindings.

“Try anything like that again and I’m going to see that you are thrown out of this school like the sorry sack of shit you are, if I don’t tear you to pieces myself. Understood?”

The reply he got was a rough, noncommittal grunt of resignation and annoyance.

The hunter addressed his whole group. “All of you are not taking this seriously. If you cannot even be bothered to learn how to shut the hell up, how do you expect to survive in the real world?”

Everyone looked down at their feet in shame, but Kurapika wasn’t done yet. “Ever think of what would happen if someone was kidnapped by a large group moving in the dark? The police are too far away, and calling other heroes or attempting to fight the criminals will only endanger the hostage in question. Your only choice is to wait for the right chance to strike, but you can’t disguise your footsteps well enough, and then everything goes to hell because of you.”

The whole class looked shell shocked. Momo and Tenya were bowing their heads, Eijirou, Hanta, and Mina were glancing guiltily at each other, and even Katsuki had the decency to look slightly disappointed in himself. Good, Kurapika thought. Let them know that they’re not as good as they think they are. Let them see that their ignorance could be lethal.

“You’re all incompetent fools who are too scared to leave their comfort zone. If you’re incapable of developing a wider set of skills than what you already have, you will fail as heroes.”

And failure is the worst feeling in the world. The failure to protect the people you love, the failure to exact justice— that sort of feeling isn’t a fate he’d wish on anyone.

The hunter rubbed his temples.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“What do you brats not understand about chest compressions?!”

Leorio was reaching the end of his rope. These kids weren’t stupid, not in the slightest, but none of them seemed even slightly capable of sitting still and listening! He felt like giving one of these little shits a Nen-powered uppercut straight to the jaw, but refrained from doing anything that would get him a smack to the head from Kurapika. Little blonde shit had a freaking sixth sense.

“I’m sorry, kero,” the girl that resembled a frog raised her hand, “but I don’t think any of us are gonna get the hang of this any time soon.”

Leorio was inclined to agree. None of his group seemed to have any idea what they were doing when he asked them to demonstrate.

Rikido Sato was complaining that his hands were too big and clumsy to properly thread a needle. Actually, they seemed too big and clumsy to hold anything smaller than a large spoon. The hunter wanted to beg the heavens to tell him how this behemoth of a teenager had managed to make it this far in life, but he refrained from saying anything about it out loud. Still, wasn’t this kid supposed to be good at baking or some shit? Can he even hold chopsticks?

Mashirao Ojiro looked like he’d literally rather be anywhere else. He started out okay, even did a few of the CPR exercises without much trouble (“my family dojo practices first aid in case of an emergency or serious injury”) but once Leorio had pulled out the advanced human anatomy charts, he suddenly insisted that he wasn’t feeling well all of a sudden, and used his bright red face as an excuse. Aside from that, he panicked badly when his first aid dummy began to “die” of oxygen starvation, and the end result was the tailed boy heaped in a pile of his own mortification.

Leorio merely told him to grab a barf bag and suck it up.

Yuga Aoyama was insisting that he’d never be involved in something as messy and on field surgery, nor would he be careless enough to get blood on his costume. Leorio had to make a very conscious effort not to strangle the brat, but it was fucking hard . He settled for getting up in his face and yelling about how he’d love to see how good he looks bleeding out on the battlefield like a loser, and decided to reign himself in before it went any further than that.

Kouji Kouta wasn’t much of a talker, which was a real pain since a good chunk of the more serious parts of emergency aid involved communication amongst your fellow aids. He didn’t seem to know any proper sign language either, opting instead to use horribly confusing hand signals that took his classmates about a minute to comprehend.

Minoru Mineta was… 

...He wanted to kill the kid.

That little asshole was more interested in trying to feel up Tsuyu Asui than actually paying any attention. While Leorio perfectly understood the healthy urges of young men with sex drives, he drew the line at disrespecting female colleagues, especially without consent. This fucking gremlin was a sexual harassment lawsuit just waiting to happen, and that could spell out “dead career” for himself and “bad associations” for every one of his friends. Thankfully, Tsuyu seemed capable of fending for herself, and otherwise didn’t look horribly bothered by the attempts on her dignity. Didn’t stop him from hovering near the diagrams that listed human anatomy, the fucking—

Aside from Tsuyu, who was friendly and diligent with her work, the only other person who seemed to be picking anything up was Mezuo Shoji, whose various hands and dexterity allowed him to move with surgical precision at efficient speeds. Leorio was glad that those two were doing such a good job helping everyone else, because he himself was starting to lose his mind.

“Okay, it’s like this: a guy passed out all of a sudden, or you dragged someone out of the water to save them from drowning, or something along those lines. You shake them, you scream at them, but nothing. First thing you do?”

Rikido scratched his outer ear. “Um… chest compressions?”

“Wrong.” Leorio rebuked. Seriously? They were all talking about this like five minutes ago!

Tsuyu politely raised her hand. “You check to see if the person is breathing?”

Leorio grinned. He usually hates every brat he meets, but he likes this one. Tsuyu’s a good kid; she’s smart, reliable, quick on the uptake, and doesn’t sugarcoat anything. Leorio rarely met any people like that these days, aside from the diligent and sharp minded Kurapika (or, as Leorio likes to call him, Mister ‘I have no sense of humor’), who despite his stoic exterior, made for a valuable ally.

Though like Kurapika, Tsuyu could stand to emote some more.

She could also stand to keep her tongue in her damn mouth!

Nevertheless, he nodded. “Good. Just because the dude passes out, that doesn’t automatically mean he’s dead. Fainting from heat stroke, low blood sugar, or even just plain stress can often happen. People in a panic and with no idea how to properly administer CPR often accidentally kill the victims with their unnecessary aid.”

A few of the group flinched, but no one dared to interrupt him. Having apparently gotten over his flustered state, Mashirao in particular was deep in thought, as if genuinely picturing the scenario as vividly as his mind would allow.

“It’s shockingly easy to break someone’s ribs in palpitations, especially when you’re dealing with a child, senior citizen, or even someone who’s just way too small.”

“Kero. So, Mineta.”

“Hey!”

“Exactly.”

“HEY!”

Everyone ignored him as he continued. “While it should be avoided as much as possible, for reasons I should hope are obvious, oftentimes it’s impossible to save the victim without any sort of injury happening to them in the process. A successful revival is gonna pretty much always end with some nasty fucking bruises.”

Tsuyu and Yuuga both cringed at the thought as Mezuo clenched his many hands tightly, face grim. Rikido stared at his multi-armed classmate with a similar expression. Leorio supposed that being as strong as they were, it would make sense that they’re particularly afraid of trying to save someone’s life and accidentally crushing their lungs instead.

Okay, in hindsight, maybe telling them that so bluntly wasn’t the best idea. It’s not like it’s untrue though! They need to know these things!

Leorio rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out how best to put this.

Honestly, the med student was never good at putting his thoughts into words. He might be working for his medical degree, and he might have aced his schooling, but in terms of strategy, philosophy, and anything else that couldn’t be explained with a textbook algorithm, he was out of his depth. He’s far from a poet; the one thing he’s got going for him in that department is that he’s passionate. Earnest to a fault, as Kurapika would put it, but hardly a wordsmith. 

That didn’t mean he was dumb, of course, but it still stuck out during times like this. Times where a bunch of high school snot rags were looking at him for guidance, as though he was actually qualified for such a thing.

Well, fake it till you make it.

“Look, you guys…” he puffed out a heavy breath of air. “I get that this stuff is... kinda gruesome, I guess. And it’s probably not a comforting idea in the first place. Cause, you know… who wants to think about being in a tough situation? Y’know, one where you gotta mend broken bones and bring people back to life ‘n shit. But… well, it’s like this.” He sat up straighter. “If we keep going on in life pretending that nothing bad will ever happen to us, we’re basically just lying to ourselves.”

Like a bunch of little light bulbs turning on, one by one, the students had their own little moments of epiphany crossing their faces.

Leorio couldn’t stop blabbering, so he didn’t.

“I know we all want to believe in our superiors and how they’ll protect us if something goes wrong and all that noise, but honestly, if anyone made a promise like that to you, they were fucking lying.”

He tried to ignore the way some kids flinched violently at his blunt statement. “Listen, bad things happen, and there ain’t jack shit we can do about that. Yeah, it’s not a good idea to dwell on that too much, but it’s also not good to ignore the danger that’s right in front of you. Pretending that things will always be okay when you know that’s not true… that ain’t heroism. That’s just plain ol’ lying. To everyone around you, and to yourself too.”

Now his group was silent. He could see that at least two of them were clutching their sleeves in discomfort, and everyone was staring at the dirt, the testing dummies and first aid kits lying all but forgotten at their feet. Leorio was silent as well, waiting for the slightest movement or smallest echo of noise to help break the awkwardness.

Did he go too far? Shit, was he gonna have to get Gon to distract them? Hell knows the kid puts on a good show when he wants to, and if he can get Killua to take over—

Tsuyu stepped forward.

“I never thought of things like that, kero.” She turned to her group, not exactly addressing them, but more addressing herself. “I know first aid is important, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m thinking that we do spend a lot of our time embracing a lie. Cause even though we can usually have fun and act like normal teens… once we graduate, we’re all gonna have a huge burden on our shoulders.”

This sobering speech was enough for Yuga to wilt where he stood, either from shame or from sheer depression. Koji looked on the verge of a minor breakdown, but held himself together in a surprising display of resolve. Mezuo merely nodded sagely.

It was true, after all. Leorio himself learned that reality all too quickly. While he sat at a comfy desk and took notes on immunizations or some crap, Kurapika was off on a manhunt against a group of murdering thieves, and Gon and Killua were fighting for their lives. It really started to hit him once he saw his younger friend’s mangled, shredded body. Leorio was supposed to be a medic, yet he could do nothing to heal the one person who needed it the most. Nor could he heal the mental scars it had left on Killua...

Argh, way to kill the mood, Leorio! Enough of those bad memories! Quickly, he needs to lighten the mood a little bit, hopefully sooner rather than later.

“...You kids wanna see some fucked up pics?”

And just like that, morbid curiosity won over the little troglodytes.