A WAY BACK HOME

Chapter 11 - A Failure-

It's been a week since Illumi got badly injured. The days felt so long, I did nothing the whole time but stay besides him, attend to his needs and monitor his condition. He's always 'Kil' this and 'Kil' that, asking random questions about himself in the future. How he would look, would he grow "big and tall" like dad, would he start drinking liquor too, stuff like that. He would also casually ask me to tell interesting things about myself, my abilities and such. Nothing about friends.

Other than talking to me every now and then, he would ask me to give him some paper and crayons to doodle, or some books to read. He would also ask me to turn the TV on to watch old-school cartoons. Pretty much his 'normal side' as a kid his age... Only that he was responsible, self-reliant and independent. He would drink his meds without complaints regardless how awful it tastes, he would sleep on time, and finish his food without leftovers. He would also comply to his homework given by the private tutor and review his lessons to catch up while being under recovery although sometimes he would still ask for my help on some questions that were a bit difficult. Sounds like the perfect child every parent is looking for right?

Makes me think, why did he sneak out from his Pain Tolerance Training that day when I first came? He's not the type who would do it for mischief... Although he told me that he was 'protecting the estate from intruders like me' when I asked him why, I am pretty sure he just didn't want to admit to himself that he was too scared to fail again as he presumably have before. I also did sneak out countless times when I was his age not because I was afraid of failing but because I am sick of the pain being inflicted on me and partly also for mischief... But we're two different people so it's completely irrelevant.

On the other hand, I'm still with not much luck about getting the information I wanted however. The only thing I found out was the former babysitter's name, age and somehow at a very little reliability rate, the appearance as he drew the person for me to see then crumpling it right away, throwing it into the trashbin. The only thing he tells me about her death was that she needs to 'leave' and be 'forgotten'. Although he never admitted to the murder of the said person, it was considered a conclusion that he was the one indeed who killed her. He won't detail further. He said she was no fun and there's no point talking about her because she had 'left' and was already 'forgotten'. I don't think he just killed her because she was 'no fun'... I believe it's more than just that, and that's what I needed to find out.

11 in the midnight.

I walked up to him, knelt down to his level and tied his shoelaces for him.

"Haaaands UP!" He did as I bid him, then sliding a hoodie through his tiny, short arms all the way down, over his shirt. I fixed the collar and shoved his bangs to the side.

"There! You look all neat and handsome just like me!" I gave him a pat on his head. "Call it, Kill-style! Now that's fashion!" I was actually proud to say I was the one who chose what he would wear. Surprisingly, he did not object to any of my suggestions.

"So you dress up like this when not wearing your uniform?" He looked down on his hoodie, grasping it with both hands. "You were wearing baggy shorts and sweatshirts when you first came here..."

"Cooler than that, kiddo! I dress like a star!" I snapped my fingers at him. "It's cold outside so you needed to wear a coat at least!"

He remained expressionless as usual, looking straight through my eyes.

"Why are you looking back at me like that? Get a backbone cuz you'll be kicking some ass tonight! Show me the guts!" I slapped his butt to cheer him up. "Haha!" I chuckled. "Don't be nervous! You can do it!"