*Kalluto doesn't flinch or resist, but he's full of tension from the neck up once his face is wrapped in Killua's hand. He thought that was what Killua had meant, and had the intent to thrust something sharp into the conversation, but he was the one who was wincing.

Meaning... this was how Illumi talked, too. Everything had to mean something, and Kalluto didn't get to decide. But Kalluto was confused, barely listening to his brother talk, just staring into eyes that weren't rejecting him, even though he was.

His brother's thumb felt like a cotton ball that was painfully soft. Killua let his hand fall, and in second the tension had dripped down onto his shoulders, ran off all the way the way to the floor. He propped up his knees, wrapping both arms around his legs, tilting his head to point at the floor between them.*

There's too many gaps for me to know what it means. I'm never the one picking, anyway. Even the Troupe don't even get out a coin for me.

*He sunk a little further, too many things to avoid thinking about to not be glanced by one of them. He didn't care that it was her, but why did it have to be her?

Was he content just to pull off a piece of Killua for himself?*