Linked [killua x reader]

prologue | running to the starting line

You craved control.

For all of your life, you never got to experience any kind of control, except when you were a little girl. Your mom would let you choose things for yourself. Like when you wanted to train, what you wanted to eat, and who you wanted to play with. But one day, she dropped you off to your father's house and she was gone. Murdered in cold blood that same night. Your light, happiness, and control died with her that day too. Gone in an instant. You would never choose another thing for yourself from that moment forward.

Until now.

Your feet, clad in thick black leather combat shoes worn with dirt and time, slapped against the wet pavement as you ran to the bus station. You roughly rubbed your hands against your tear-stained eyes. How could I be so stupid, you thought to yourself as your heart pounded in agony against your chest.

He really fooled you good, didn't he? For a second there, you felt safe. Like someone actually cared and didn't want you for your power.

Giichi...you bastard.

You clenched your fists angrily as you wiped the tears from your eyes. No more tears, I have to keep going or else dad will find me and I'll end up back in that cell.

After your mom died, your dad took you in and decided to make you use your gift as a payment for him taking you in. He took you underground in his base. There were no windows, no light, no color. It was dull and empty. The only things in your cell were a mat with a blanket, a toilet, and chains on the wall that were used to restrain you when you failed him and needed to be punished. You spent nine painful years down there. You spent your time healing your father's gang members and guards when they came back from a fight. The worst nights were the nights where a lot of them got hurt. Healing that many of them at once would almost kill you at some times, but your father never let you stop. He never let you have a break. The pain of it all left you breathless.

You were his tool and your purpose was to fix the people that were destroyed for him and his money.

The most painful part of it all though was probably the loneliness of it all. You didn't get to have any friends, and the only person your age that you knew was this boy that you met on an island a long time ago.

There was also your soulmate, of course.

He was always there, never fully in focus, but lingering in your thoughts. His emotions and feelings often filled your mind when they were strong. You didn't know his name, or what he looked like, but you knew him. Even if it was just a little bit.

You first felt him there the night your mom died.

The thunder and rain pattering against your window drowned out the sound of your sobs as you lay in bed awake that night. You had never felt so alone before. Not only was your mother gone, but her whole clan was gone. The people that she loved so much, and the people that you were just getting to know. Your small hand grasped your pillow tightly as a sob ripped its way through your throat when all of a sudden, you felt it. It was small, but nonetheless present. A soft, unfamiliar warmth lingered in the corner of your mind, almost like it was a little bit timid. It soothed her, suddenly she didn't feel so alone.

"I'm sorry," it seemed to say.

With tears still streaming down your cheeks and your eyes wide open, you whispered back, "Thank you."

There were multiple other occasions that you felt him there.

After your father smacked you around a few times for not healing fast enough, or not giving the results he wanted, you'd feel that same warmth.