Supernova

November 28th, 1977

Monday, November 28th, 1977

Killua's hands pause on the keys, instead reaching towards his cubicle's ringing telephone.

"Hello, this is Killua, editor at York New Times. What's your name and what do you want?" he sighed, spinning in his chair with the phone tucked on right shoulder. He didn't get calls often, especially when his boss preferred to chew him out in person.

Instead of an office official on the other line, however, there came an excited gasp, "Killua! Oh my god, why haven't you picked up your phone? I know you've heard my voicemails." His sister. Of course.

He groaned, "Who the hell told you my work number? Was it Kurapika? I swear to god I will–"

"No, no, it wasn't Kurapika. I tried but he didn't pick up my calls either..."

Classic.

"I just called the front desk and asked to be transferred! That intern who picked up sounded nice, you guys should go out or something–" she added while Killua pinched his temples in defeat.

He had been avoiding talking to her ever since she moved back to the city in August. After their mothers sudden death, and Killua's refusal to show at the wake, she moved out to live with their grandfather for the summer. He knew that it would only be temporary while they let the dust settle, but he had been putting thinking about it way off to the side. He had no idea what he would tell her. He could only hope that she wouldn't bring it up and they could go back to normal.

"So anyway, why did you stay back? I know for a fact that it wasn't for work so don't use that excuse again."

Damn. He wasn't going to escape her, huh?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before responding, "can we talk about this later? I'm busy right now," he lied; he was just about to go home.

Almost as if she read his mind she chittered, "I'm waiting outside the subway right now and I'm going to be walking there as soon as I hang up," she said cheekily. "That Canary girl told me that you're off soon!"

He could hear the devious little smirk in her voice just before she hung up.

The dial-up tone ringing in his ear, he had made a decision. He needed to get out of there and to his apartment before she could catch up to him.

Flicking off his lamp, throwing on his coat, and snatching his half-open briefcase, he speed walked to the elevator.

However, he felt the aura of his biggest enemy creeping up behind him. He aggressively pressed the button over and over, as if that would open the doors any quicker. Alas, it did not and a hand with five red painted nails rested on his shoulder.

"I don't recall your shift ending at 7:22, Mr. Zoldyck," Bisky, his boss, commented casually.

He reluctantly turned on his heal and groaned, "It's just eight minutes and I'm already done–"

She cut him off, "This company has rules Mr. Zoldyck, and you must follow all of them. You may only leave five minutes early in non-emergency situations when all work is finished," He tried to interrupt her to explain that this was an emergency situation but she held a hand up instead, continuing. "So we will wait here, in silence, until the clock turns 7:25."

He just looked into her eyes, her commitment and nagging was almost impressive. She had refined it not only to an art but she could've won gold for it in the olympics.

So that's what they did. Not long after the elevator finally arrived did the clock's long hand ticked to that magical number. He slipped into the booth silently, punching the first floor button while glaring at the blond haired woman. She held the same glare as the doors closed.

He slid out of the elevator as soon as the doors cracked open, and while he was walking past the front desk he flipped Canary, the intern, off.

He pushed through the revolving glass door, only to find himself face to face with Alluka.

She pulled him into a hug and nearly squeezed all the air out of him, "Killua! I missed you, so did Dad and–"

"Well I only missed you, the rest of them are insane." He scoffed, earning him a smack upside the head.

She stepped back, pulling him from the doorway to the street light, "Don't say that about them. They were devastated, you know," she simultaneously whispered and yelled. "And you know what, I think you were too."

The suggestion took him aback, squinting his eyes he barked, "Why would I? I don't give a shit about them, you shouldn't either."

Her icy blue eyes narrowed, "Why? They all love you and care about you, but all you do is push us away!" Her voice raised from her agitated murmur, annoyance thick in her airy voice.

The blond groaned and looked to the side where a mother and her two children stopped in their tracks to stare at them, "Can we talk about this somewhere else?" he asked, facing her again.

"Fine."

She took a sip of her coffee, the burnt aftertaste settling on her tongue with comforting familiarity. As she opened her closed eyes, she gazed at her big brother, ashing his cigarette into a red tray.

Alluka set her cup down on the sticky table, "When are you going to stop this?" she spoke softly.

"Huh? I tried quitting a while ago but I got migraines," he mindlessly explained while flipping through the diner's 24hr breakfast menu.

She rolled her eyes, snatching the cigarette and crushing it in the tray, much to her brother's dismay, "That's not what I'm talking about, I'm talking about your attitude." She looked up at his reddened face, deep blue eyes piercing hers. "I know you don't have a good relationship with most of us, but you could at least try."

"It's not that easy."

"Except it is–"

He smacked his palm down on the table, "No it's not," he stated, breath elevated. "Dad wouldn't have wanted me there anyway."

Alluka sighed through her nose, she could see the tiny red veins peeking through his eyes white. His white hair was curled and flared outwards. She could see the scar under his chin from a sledding accident when they were kids. All that but she didn't recognize him in the slightest.

He stood and grabbed his bag, almost knocking a waitress over on his way to the door.

She frowned, biting her lip. The same waitress came up to her booth and refilled her coffee, "bit of a spat, huh?"

Alluka looked up at the woman's wrinkled face and the corners of her lips lifted slightly, "You could say that."