38. Nothing More

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"Ze..." His lips were dry when he finally cracked his eyes open.

"You shouldn't be moving," someone instructed, still only a blurry shadow to his ash-stricken gaze. "You've been in an explosion."

"I know that," Killua grumbled, and completely ignoring whoever was ordering him around, rubbed at his stinging eyes. "I feel perfectly fine," he asserted, and peered down for a self-evaluation. He was dirty, covered in black from the fire and the blast from before. It was only an explosion. Killua knew he should have gotten out of that unscathed, much less knocked unconscious. As the last moments trickled back to the front of his mind, he looked to his caretaker. It was Lucky, and next to him was Rein. Brushing aside the man's concerns, he sat up. "Do you know if Zepile is here?"

"You really shouldn't move—"

He looked down at himself again. "And why am I shirtless?" Indeed he was. Whatever had been left on the upper half of his body had been carefully peeled away and set on an unappealing heap on the ground.

"Your clothes were practically out of commission after what happened, and you need to avoid infection."

"First off, this isn't even considered damage in my point of view. I'm fine, and I don't need medical attention. Second," Killua cast a glance towards Lucky. "If my burned clothes were out of commission, what does that make yours?"

On top of being wet from earlier when his outfit had been dumped into the lagoon, the dry parts were now singed or burned off entirely, and ash stuck to the damp splotches. White swirled with brown and black and came to a rather unsettling and nauseating color. In short, his clothes were a strange mix of squelchy, smoky, and burned; overall unsuitable to wear.

"Fair point." Pretty soon, Lucky's top half was bare as well, shirt and jacket heaped next to Killua's. "But that doesn't change the fact that you should care for your burns, no matter how minimal—"

Back from the kitchen, Zushi dutifully dumped a bucket of water onto Killua's head.

While Zushi seemed entirely satisfied and confident in what he'd done, they all seemed frozen. Gritting his teeth, Killua started to wipe at his wet face, brushing his drenched hair out of his line of sight. "Thanks."

"Oh." Zushi turned to Lucky. "Was I not supposed to do that?"

"I'm fine," Killua reiterated. "I'm not hurt, and I'm not accepting medical aid."

Rein shook out the stray water droplets from her hair, and opened up her arms to show the white wrappings she'd kept away from the splash. "I stole these bandages for nothing?"

Lucky raised an eyebrow. "You said you traded for them."

She stayed silent.

"Rein," he warned, "where did you get tho-"

"Hey, look, it's Zepile!" Rein exclaimed, jumping up to greet the man quickly. Essentially, she was running away.

It was him. As soon as he'd confirmed this fact, Killua smiled and bent over to rub the water to the base of his scalp, washing away the grime so his hair would be its normal ivory again. Zepile was alive. Killua was happy for that, but he didn't understand how. He'd seen the moment the man had become buried under the collapsing wing. As much as it wasn't so and as much as he didn't want it to happen, Zepile should have been long dead, if not fatally wounded or forever crippled.

Brushing back his damp hair that was already starting to fluff up, he stood to greet them as Rein dragged him over. "Hey." Killua searched for any sign of further injury, but other than the arm that was already hurt, Zepile seemed intact. He shrugged warmly. "Made it out, huh?"

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