47: Candid Confession X Friend X Come to My House!

Kurama was momentarily stunned. He had always believed that he would only learn Illumi’s true identity near the end of the Hunter Exam. He never expected Illumi to confess so cleanly and decisively, revealing himself without hesitation. Caught off guard, Kurama almost failed to react in time. Fortunately, his excellent reflexes saved him at the last moment, preserving the air of enigmatic profundity he had so carefully cultivated before Hisoka and Illumi.

“So, does this mean we’re even?” A sly smile played at Kurama’s lips as he winked at Illumi. “You see, I told you my name was Minamino, but at the very start of the exam, Chrollo and Hisoka showed up to expose me. And you told me your name was Gittarackur, only to overturn it yourself just now. We both gave each other a harmless little lie, and in the end, for one reason or another, we both decided to be honest.”

“‘Illumi’... is that right? Don’t you think, in the end, we’re really quite alike?”

Handled poorly, such a conversation could have become rather awkward—for instance, if Kurama resented Illumi for learning his true name so early yet keeping his own secret. But Kurama laid everything out with a few frank words, bringing it all into the open between them.

This made things much easier to resolve: Illumi’s candor was met with Kurama’s directness, closing the distance between them considerably. And then there was that word, “alike,” which had always underscored their interactions...

Illumi regarded Kurama for a moment, then performed that signature gesture so beloved by his fans—he lightly tapped a clenched right fist into his open left palm. The handsome, impassive young man with black hair tilted his head, and though his tone barely shifted, one could sense his sudden realization:

“So that’s how it is—like a dream returning to the millennium.” He blinked. “We’re ‘alike,’ but not ‘friends’?”

Kurama was caught off guard. He’d suspected that perhaps there was a trace of something called “friendship” developing between himself and Illumi, but he hadn’t thought Illumi would also consider defining their relationship that way.

Then again, when he thought of Illumi’s connection with Hisoka—it was never openly acknowledged or explained to anyone, yet by all accounts, they were quite good friends—Kurama found himself amused and enlightened.

He laughed at himself for having been influenced by memories of his previous life and by others’ opinions, assuming Illumi neither made nor had friends—a notion now clearly disproved. He realized that only through direct experience could one truly understand another’s character.

“Is there any reason we can’t be both alike and friends?” The fox spirit smiled. “I think you and I would get along very well, Illumi. Being alike makes it all the more likely we’ll become good friends.”

The black-haired assassin blinked. “Perhaps you’re right.” He thought in silence for a moment, then said, “After the exam, would you like to come visit my home?”

At this, not only Kurama but also Hisoka—who had been uncharacteristically quiet and well-behaved, standing off to the side watching their exchange—was stunned.

“Little Illu!” Hisoka’s face was practically a mask of exaggerated grievance. “You’re playing favorites! We’re friends too, aren’t we? Yet you’ve never invited me over.”

Worse yet, as soon as you formalize your relationship with this guy (wait, something about that sounds off!), you can’t wait to invite him? That’s not fair! Not fair at all!

Hisoka puffed out his cheeks, glaring at Illumi with an expression full of theatrical indignation.

Illumi gave him a lazy sidelong glance. “Father already has doubts about my taste,” he said, as if stating something entirely unrelated.

Amazingly, Hisoka understood immediately. “But I’m not your only friend!” the magician protested, sounding even more aggrieved.

Illumi met his gaze, silent. “The others are all well-known to my family.”

—Either fellow assassins of his own age, or heirs and young ladies from allied underworld families; they were less friends than future allies and partners. With them, Illumi’s interactions were almost always grounded in mutual benefit and ulterior motives. By contrast, Hisoka was the first person Illumi had genuinely chosen as a friend—and, before Kurama appeared, his only one.

Hisoka was left speechless. His face was a comical mix of inexplicable joy (for Illumi, though not explicit, had admitted Hisoka’s special status) and frustration (for he could not refute the point about Illumi’s father’s skepticism regarding his friendships).

Hisoka pouted. “Tch. Little Illu, you’re stingy.”

—Well, if he couldn’t win the argument, he’d simply resort to sulking.

Illumi was more than used to Hisoka’s bad habits. “So, what’s your answer?” He naturally ignored Hisoka’s woeful expression and turned his gaze to Kurama, who was watching their interplay with open amusement.

The red-haired youth was surprised for just a moment, but then a gentle, warm smile spread across his face. “Of course. It would be my honor,” he replied lightly.

“…Very well.” Illumi paused, then nodded gravely and offered a brief apology: “I’ll be going to rest now. See you when the exam ends.”

“Yes, see you then.” Kurama, unfazed by his new friend’s unusual way of “resting,” waved with a smile and watched in curiosity as Illumi slipped into a hole and buried himself completely underground.

Soon, the place looked exactly as it had before, with no sign that a living person was now hidden beneath the earth.

The fox spirit shuddered, suddenly gaining a new respect for the assassin’s incredible adaptability.

“Well, I’ll take my leave as well. Good luck.” Without giving Hisoka, who was still staring blankly at the spot where Illumi had vanished, a chance to react, Kurama nodded, greeted him, and swiftly withdrew.

As Kurama’s figure disappeared into the dense forest, Hisoka squinted after him, a sudden sweetness in his smile.

“Oh my, things are starting to get interesting…” It was as if all his earlier discontent, melancholia, and jealousy had been nothing but a performance. He idly toyed with a playing card and, unhurried, turned and left the place Illumi had chosen for rest.

Yet, what was this unfamiliar feeling stirring in his heart? Hisoka arched an eyebrow, sensing that he was, perhaps, beginning to look forward to what would happen next.

＊＊＊

Kurama’s mind, by contrast, was far less complicated. The fox spirit was quite pleased to have acquired a new, like-minded friend—especially one so different from Jin.

“Speaking of which, Mokona seems to like Illumi quite a lot.” Back in the cave they’d previously prepared, Kurama, who was making lunch for himself and his companion with a smokeless frying pan, poked the white ball of fluff who was peering expectantly over the pan’s edge, nearly tumbling in. His tone was teasing.

The white fluff was not at all embarrassed, and readily admitted his fondness for Illumi. “I do like him. He may look cold and scary, but the way he looks at you and me is very warm. Hm… it’s a bit like Yue.”

“Yue?” Kurama had a guess at whom Mokona meant, but asked anyway.

“Mm. Yue.” The little creature nodded firmly. “He was one of the guardians created by Clow, like the moon itself, but not cold at all.”

A hint of nostalgia crossed Mokona’s face. “Yue used to wait until Kero wasn’t paying attention, and then sneak his treasured puddings to me and Larg. He was so gentle.”

Kurama’s hand paused as he cooked. Indeed, one should never judge too quickly without personal experience. The thought of the aloof, lofty lunar guardian sneaking snacks for Mokona and Larg made Kurama want to laugh, but also warmed his heart.

“You must miss Clow a lot,” he said softly, drawing Mokona close and stroking his soft ears.

For a moment, nostalgia and sorrow flickered across Mokona’s face, but he quickly smiled again—the shift so swift, one might think the sadness a mere illusion.

“I’m happy to be traveling with you now,” Mokona said softly. “And besides…”

And besides, his journey meant that Larg was free of his seal and could keep Yuko company. Mokona believed Larg would make sure Yuko wasn’t lonely anymore.

For Mokona Soel, that was enough. Truly enough.

Kurama glanced down at the smiling creature in his arms. The tangled clues about Yuko, about Tsubasa, about xxxHolic—none of them yet fully unraveled—now seemed to have diverged from what he knew. Was this deviation good or bad? Kurama shook his head—he didn’t know.

—On the first day in the forest, the fox spirit’s thoughts were uncharacteristically unsettled.

Fortunately, both Kurama and Mokona were adept at managing their moods. After a satisfying lunch, any trace of melancholy was gone. The two, spirits high, began to discuss how to spend the next seven days.

The cave was simply a safe place to rest and sleep. Neither Kurama nor Mokona intended to hide out the whole time—Kurama certainly didn’t need to, given his strength, and there wasn’t much entertainment there anyway. They could always play games on the PSP or DS from Kurama’s storage, but doing that day after day would be too dull.

What’s more… this stretch of the story offered a perfect opportunity to meet Gon alone.

With that thought, Kurama was instantly invigorated. After a lively discussion with Mokona, they left the cave early the next morning, traveling light.

Soon after, guided by dandelions, they found Gon, who was following butterflies through the forest, searching for Hisoka.