Chapter Text
Far off the edge of civilization, there exists a vast forest of red maples uninhabitable to humans that contains boundless hidden wonders within. Tucked away on a mountain range, spirits and demons alike flock to this forest due to its distance from humanity, seeking a haven where they won’t be cruelly expelled from their homes.
So when a human does wander into the forest, they disappear forever. Nobody ever looks for them, because they know exactly what their fate will be. Just as humans are hostile to spirits, spirits are hostile to humans.
Killua has known about this forest for quite a long time but has only ever seen the foot of it, its valley openings sealed off with high barriers plastered with warnings so nobody can conceivably enter on accident. It doesn’t stop him from climbing over the spiked fence and hopping on the grass, crushing hundreds of little red leaves under his feet as he walks right in like it’s his own house.
As for how many times he’s been warned, a person who no longer wants to live is devoid of reason and will never heed such pointless warnings. Today, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. It would be his last day on Earth. He was going to go where nobody would ever find him, wanting to be free of humanity for the same reasons as the forest’s own inhabitants.
Bright red maple leaves gather into thick clusters overhead, gusts of wind sending them dancing down to the ground past his eyes as he treks deeper into the woods. It’s eerily quiet there, a desolate place to poetically call his grave when his time comes. Lonely in life and death alike.
Way into the valley, so he couldn’t be found even by mistake, Killua reached a clearing occupied by a wide lake. As he stepped into its threshold, a wave of unease washed over his body. But the dread didn’t stop him from approaching the rocky edge and sitting on the flattest one he could find, knees drawn to his chest as he stared wistfully into the calm, coal-black waters. That boy’s heart was full of it long before he ever got here, so it didn’t make a difference.
It wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the scenery a bit beforehand. Memories coursed through his mind like the streams that cut through the trees and fed into this monster of a lake before him. He used to have a reason to live, a little sister who brought kindness to his world where it otherwise didn’t exist. “Had she been here too?” he wondered as he planted a hand on the rock, rough beneath his fingertips.
Their lives were uninspired and harsh. Whatever dwelled in this forest couldn’t be worse. Perhaps Alluka, too, had that thought when she came here. He still didn’t know exactly why she left and knew he never would.
Killua fished in his pocket and took out her favorite headband, pressing the soft fabric to his lips and sighing through his nose. He remembered when he first found it snagged on that fence and the sheer horror that ripped into him. At that time, his parents had to drag him away, leaving the site behind now that they had confirmed what happened to their second youngest. He didn’t understand it then, and still couldn’t come to terms with it now. The little amount they seemed to care always made his blood boil.
It was the last time Killua ever cried, and even now his tears were completely dried up.
After a while, his mind ran blank completely. Downturned, sapphire eyes fixated on the ripples on the surface and what little light caught on the crest of each obsidian wave.
And a thought flashed into his head.
Alluka wouldn’t want him to die.
Suddenly, he was thrown for a loop. It came out of nowhere, this thought, and he didn’t know what to do with it–or with himself, for that matter.
Unsteadily rising to his feet, an avalanche of doubt and confusion came rolling in, caving his heart in on all sides. He was already past the point of no return but where he was so sure before, it now felt like he had made a mistake.
Dazed and unsure of what to do, he tucked the fabric in his pocket and languidly walked along the edge of the lake back where he came from, dizzy with conflicting feelings and moving mindlessly from rock to rock. Some rose high out of the water while others were much shorter than expected, throwing his balance off.
Killua lost any focus he had left when he thought he spotted something out of the corner of his eye, a mirage of a face in the water. And he misstepped.
His ankle rolled, and with it came his whole weight. Tumbling sideways into the lake with a huge splash, he hit his head on a rock and felt something coil around his wrist. Before he knew it, the distance between himself and the land had grown too much.
It was then that he lost all will to struggle. Letting it drag him to the bottom of the lake, all he could think was “My head hurts” as he watched the rippling sky get farther and farther away. The water stung his nose, and eventually, bubbles stopped floating to the surface.
He was turned around and his last sight was a monster whose size was beyond comprehension, black as the abyss with its jaw gaping wide, thousands of razor-sharp teeth glinting at him.
Maybe dying isn’t so bad after all, Killua thought for the last time in his life.
The Eel of Zoldyck Lake sunk its teeth into his mortal body and stripped it from his soul, leaving not even his bones left in this world as if they had never existed in the first place. Its stomach was a black hole where all things indiscriminately came to an end and it did not tolerate intruders.
But when it tried to bite into his soul, it was met with resistance.
It opened its mouth and let the ghost float out, holding it in front of its eyes with a tendril so it could be properly examined.
The human’s spirit had an aura of deep despair and it didn’t flinch when bitten into or touched, but it didn’t break either. The eel was perplexed by this, as even beings acclimated to the dangers of the forest would recoil in fear when attacked by such a powerful and well-known water spirit. So for a mortal to resist it, that mortal had to be quite special, no?
This spirit was one of few whom the fearsome Eel of Zoldyck Lake had ultimately decided to spare, finding it too useful to simply waste.
The boy who thought he died had got a chance to open his eyes once again. But this time, he couldn’t remember anything. When he tried to recall why he was there, he could only draw a blank.
A tall figure loomed overhead, its long, inky hair splayed out in all directions and casting a dreadful, liquid black shadow over him. Tens of tendrils of hair held his spirit in place, keeping him from moving. He couldn’t see most of its face, only a single, beady eye focused on his still-materializing form.
He couldn’t talk yet, but it could.
Its voice was deep and chilling, having an unnatural quality to it that the boy couldn’t quite place. “I’ve chosen to spare you, but in return, you will have a role to fulfill on my behalf.”
Killua found himself nodding as if his body was moving on puppet strings. A claw stretched out of the tangle of hair and touched his still-forming chest and he felt frozen.
“You will reap spirits of the land for me and guard this lake.”
He nodded again, but had no idea what any of that meant. The creature moved its claw up to his forehead, and he felt something sharp pierce into him.
Spirits?
Lake?
So he was dead, after all.
“You’re quite fortunate for a human. I saved you because I firmly believed you were special. So you really should try your best not to disappoint me.”
It was then that Killua’s eyes felt heavy, slowly drooping shut. When he opened them again, everything felt different.
He finally understood why he was there, what his place was in the natural order of the forest. It was like he had always been there all along, forever belonging to this lake. His first instinct was to stretch his arms–he had arms now!--in front of his eyes, and when he realized he had hands he turned them over to examine his palms. They were transparent. He could see the bed of the lake and the shining stars above through them and they glowed a faint white.
While he was inspecting his new form, a hand cupped his shoulder.
He turned his head and saw a man who more resembled his own kind with a normal face. Well–as normal as an eel spirit’s face could get, that is. Its blank, dark eyes and ghostly pale skin were unsettling but it felt oddly familiar. Dwelling somewhere in his mind, he found its name.
“Illumi?”
“Good, you’ve come to your senses. It’s time for us to surface now, Killua.”