Chapter 51

So far, I've spent a considerable amount of time with Kurt, but not much either. Most of the time I'm at school, and I only go to Kukuroo Mountain during holidays. While I'm training at Kukuroo Mountain according to Milluki's plan, Kurt is either following behind Mrs. Zoldyck or playing alone with his doll or paper cutouts.

"Want to hang out?" That's how I always invite him when we occasionally run into each other.

From a young age, he had a gloomy and taciturn demeanor. His neat bangs covered his eyebrows, and his purple eyes were like swirling vortexes, deep and dark.

He neither agreed nor refused, he just calmly looked at Killua and me.

Killua, unable to contain himself, urged, "Karto's not interested in any of this, let's go—"

That's true.

Even after knowing him for so long, I still find it hard to guess what Kurt likes or dislikes. He always stands quietly in the shadows of this family, like a shadow, always fiddling with dolls and paper cutouts in his hands. Rather than a hobby, they seem more like props for passing the time.

Since there were no other toys, these things were stuffed into his hands, and he continued to do so consistently.

"That guy is so strange." Killua's personality dictates that he won't actively approach someone who requires more effort to maintain the relationship, even if that person is his younger brother.

“There are so many colors and shapes for paper cutting,” I had tried many times to get closer to Kurt, standing beside him as he intently worked with the white paper, and asked with great interest, “Why do you always cut the same few patterns, and all of them are white?”

Kurt remained silent.

In the days that followed, I gradually realized that Kurt didn't answer because he was just a dozen dry and boring blank sheets of paper.

People prefer pretty and colorful patterns, but Kurt was just a blank sheet of paper, bright on the outside and easy to see through, and then, nothing more.

His storybook has no words, and his features are vague.

Like me, most of the time I am just a dispensable embellishment in the lives of those around me.

A mother needs a daughter, but it's okay if she doesn't; Illumi needs a "sister," but it's okay if he doesn't; Killua needs a companion on his dark journey, but it's okay if he doesn't.

"I thought you would obediently listen to Killua." Thinking of this, I couldn't help but rest my chin on my hand and say this to Kurt.

Not long ago, Killua did everything in his power to take me away from Chrollo, but we were stopped by Kalmod as soon as we got to a safe place.

Killua must have been very surprised, and so was I.

"Hmm... if someone would do that, is there some deeper meaning behind it?" I couldn't help but ask.

“Killua told the family,” Kurt changed the subject, speaking calmly, “that he doesn’t want you to be with your older brother.”

My bangs fell to my cheeks, and I tucked them behind my ears. At the same time, I suddenly realized that my hair didn't seem as smooth as before, and it felt much rougher to the touch.

It must be from the stress and anxiety of these past few days.

"Oh, I see," I replied nonchalantly.

Whoever wants to take that position—

Actually, none of this has anything to do with me.

Now that things have come to this, if you really ask for my opinion, I would probably prefer that each of them go as far away as possible and never appear in front of me again.

They're all a bunch of equally bad guys.

but……

A scene suddenly flashed through my mind: a couple asking their child whether they wanted to live with their father or mother before they divorced.

The imagined scene struck me as utterly hilarious. I couldn't help but chuckle, a slight smile spreading across my face. I tilted my head back, turned my head, and asked the boy beside me:

"By the way... where's Kurt?"

Kurt: "..."

"Do you think I'd be better off with Killua or Illumi?" I asked. "Personally, I think, from a purely emotional standpoint, my older brother likes me more, but Killua's behavior might be a bit more normal..."

“But if I weren’t my mother’s daughter,” I said, changing the subject and becoming quiet, “I probably wouldn’t be facing this problem.”

In their world, I am an insignificant presence, ubiquitous yet unimportant.

“Mom supports my older brother,” Kurt said, as always only stating other people’s opinions and not offering his own. “Dad thinks both are acceptable and seems to want them to negotiate on their own.”

“I’m asking you,” I said, “what do you think?”

He remained silent.

“That’s strange,” I said. “If you don’t support Illumi, why did you take me away from Killua?”

He remained silent, lowered his eyes, and his expression inexplicably revealed a hint of vulnerability.

Without offering an answer, Kurt maintained his silence until the very end.

...In fact, he knew perfectly well that what he was doing was meaningless.

However, by the time I came to my senses, my body had already started moving, and my reason couldn't keep up with my actions.

He has worked and waited for far too long to catch up with his brothers and leave himself far behind, yet to this day he still finds that the distance between him and Killua has not shrunk by even a fraction.

...I feel a little unwilling.

When will I finally be truly seen?

...

...

Being with Kurt was mostly uneventful.

I'm not exactly an energetic person, and neither is Kurt. We don't even have any particular hobbies, so most of the time we just sit together and occasionally exchange a few words.

"Don't you have any missions lately?" I asked.

“The required quantity has been completed,” he replied.

"What about the Phantom Troupe?" I asked again.

Kurt thought for a moment, then said nonchalantly, "We're not that close, they won't care."

I couldn't help but say, "You really aren't worried at all... By the way, did you turn off your phone? Why didn't Killua call?"

Kurt paused for a moment.

I noticed his expression become subtle.

“No,” he said, then added hesitantly, “…maybe Killua just doesn’t remember how to contact me.”

I:"……"

What an outrageous guess! But upon closer inspection, it seems to make sense. The brotherhood among the Zoldyck family is indeed so fragile.

Even so, I couldn't help but complain: "How long has it been since you guys last contacted each other... you've even forgotten how to get their contact information?"

Kurt picked up the paper figure, pursed his lips, and remained silent.

The next day, we still hadn't left the city, and Kurt vaguely showed a tendency:

His decision to take me away was just a momentary impulse; he had no plan for what to do afterward.

We are hiding in a secluded apartment building for sale—his past mission experience and Nen ability make it much easier for him to find a temporary place to stay in this unfamiliar city.

Since the house was still for sale, there was no furniture inside. However, the floor was cleaned very well by Kurt. At least he had some conscience and knew he couldn't let me clean it...

Of course, if he makes this request, it won't be fulfilled.

In short, right now, we're hiding in this spacious room. The living room has large floor-to-ceiling windows with a good orientation, allowing us to see the sunset.

I simply lay down on the clean floor and lazily enjoyed the afterglow of the sunset.

Kurt knelt upright beside me, her posture elegant and impeccable, her lowered head making her long, white neck, which cascaded over her black kimono, appear even more slender.

"Aren't you tired of sitting like this?" I asked him.

“That’s how it should be,” he replied softly.

I held out my hand, and he tilted his head, looking puzzled. I beckoned to him with my finger and then patted the floor next to me.

"No, lie down with me. Seeing you sitting like this makes my neck and legs hurt," I said.

Kurt looked hesitant.

He was a "good" boy to begin with, and under Mrs. Zoldyck's discipline, he became even more frighteningly well-behaved.

I don't think anyone specifically told him that a person could just lie on the ground like that.

Unable to bear his hesitant expression, I grabbed his sleeve and pulled hard—with Kurt's strength, he could easily break free from my grasp, or remain unmoved.

But with my tugging, he quietly loosened his control over his body, tilted his little head toward me, and hesitantly lay down on his side, close to the floor.

I turned halfway around and looked him in the eye.

Those purple, swirling eyes now held the bewildered confusion of a newborn child, mixed with a faint fear of trying new things.

"Why are you lying down?" he asked.

"To sunbathe," I replied casually.

“The sunset…isn’t warm,” he pointed out.

"That's precisely why we need to sunbathe," I said. "Otherwise, what if we get sunburned?"

He looked increasingly confused.

"Haven't you ever been in the sun?" I asked him.

He shook his head, but because he was lying on the floor, the movement became difficult and sluggish, and his once neat black short hair became messy.

I reached out and grabbed a strand of his hair.

“Soft.” Then I said, “Killua’s hair is soft too… but your hair is a little cooler and softer than his.”

He blinked.

“My hair is stiff.” I picked up the ends of my dyed blonde hair and gestured for him to touch it.

Kurt carefully extended his finger, circled the end of the hair, and then looked on with a look of realization.

"That's probably why it's so straight," I continued. "I haven't been eating well or sleeping well these past few days, and with the dyed hair, it might get split ends."

"What is a fork?" Kurt asked.

"It's just...you don't know."

He shook his head slightly, like a small animal, his hair becoming completely disheveled.

I hesitated for a moment and said, "Then forget it. It's okay if you don't know."

"Is it alright...?" He showed that hesitant, uneasy expression again.

Before I could say anything, the slight unease on his face turned into a dark rage.

“…I’ll find out.” Then he said to himself, almost as if talking to himself.

"There's no need for that. If you don't know, you don't know," I yawned. "Your expression is terrifying..."

Kurt wouldn't listen; he remained frowning and sulking.

I held a few of his fingers.

“It’s okay,” I said, probably because I’d been lying down for too long and I was starting to feel sleepy. “...You don’t know a lot of things either, and I know what kind of person you are.”

“I want to do better,” he said softly.

"There won't be any reward." I can't keep my eyes open anymore.

"But..." His voice brushed past my ear like the wind, soft and gentle.

On the blurred boundary between dreams and reality, I vaguely saw a butterfly standing on a petal, fluttering its wings slightly.

"……award……"

The wind blew past.

The butterfly's silhouette disappeared into the darkness.

"...What I want."

The sound of the breeze overlapped with the boy's voice.

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Thank you so much for your support! I will continue to work hard!