58 confirms X invites X Aluka

Yes.
Why Illumi? Why him?
This question, as Hisoka had once pointed out, had in fact troubled him for a long time.
But now, or rather, at this very moment, Hisoka finally seemed to find the answer to the question that had always haunted him.
"Now I understand."
"Actually..."
"There’s really no particular reason."
The red-haired man stood there, smiling as always, his expression unchanged from any previous moment.
Yet Kurama could sense that, in that instant, something within Hisoka subtly shifted—not easy to detect, but undeniably real.
"Simply because I want you."
—Yes, it was just that simple.
"Illumi, I want you."
For the first time since Hisoka had appeared that evening, the smile vanished entirely from his face. The magician lifted his head, his gaze locking unerringly with Illumi’s own.
His lips parted, and for the first time, his voice shed all pretense and frivolity, carrying a weight of seriousness and resolve.
Illumi returned the look in silence.
A long moment passed. Suddenly, the black-haired assassin curled his lips into a bright, dazzling smile—so unexpected that nearly everyone in the hall was left speechless in astonishment.
"Very well," he replied, still smiling.
***
That evening’s banquet atop Kukuroo Mountain unfolded in dramatic twists and turns, its developments so wild and swift it was as if the guests had boarded a rollercoaster.
Afterwards, as Kurama soaked in a hot bath, carefully drying Mokona’s soft white fur with a towel, he let the playful Rose Whip twist into a green vine to tie his half-dried hair into a neat ponytail. As he reflected on how the night had ended, the demon fox couldn’t help but chuckle.
The white fluff, cozily enjoying his grooming service, looked up at the sound. Their eyes met, and without any need for Kurama to explain, their tacit understanding made it clear to Mokona what amused him.
So the little white creature broke into a mischievous smile as well.
"Now that one, all white and proper, doesn’t have to worry about not having a fight to pick anymore~"
With a tone of sincere delight and happiness for another, but a face as openly gloating as could be, Mokona wriggled contentedly in Kurama’s palm, motioning for the fox to "move on, that spot’s clean, try over here," and spoke in a soft, sweet voice.
Kurama couldn’t resist giving him a gentle flick through the towel.
"Mokona, you’re so bad," the fox laughed.
The white fluff squealed, squirming and giggling, "Kurama, you’re just the same!"
After a glance between them, they both burst out laughing once more.
The conclusion of the banquet was, in truth, rather awkward.
What was meant to be a grand affair in honor of Kurama, Illumi’s "future partner," had, by the end…
Because of Hisoka’s confession and Illumi’s response, everyone realized they had made a monumental blunder—their official grandchild-in-law, daughter-in-law, or sister-in-law was, in fact, someone else entirely. And thanks to their mishap, the real one had been forced into a dramatic, mountain-crossing rescue.
Even Silva, usually calm and composed, could not help but feel a little embarrassed and at a loss for words.
Fortunately, Kurama’s reaction was both tactful and understanding. Surveying the awkward scene, he rose to his feet, politely excused himself on the grounds of being an outsider, and promptly exited with Mokona in tow—the dinner portion of the evening had already run its course, after all.
Before leaving, Kurama sent Illumi a meaningful glance, only to meet a face of innocent calm in return. This made the fox all the more suspicious as to whether Illumi had truly foreseen none of tonight’s events.
But these things could always be clarified later.
Though a little disappointed to miss what would unfold next, Kurama, eager to avoid deepening the awkwardness, did not hesitate to leave the hall.
Just before the door closed behind him, he thought he caught a faint, kindly voice say, "Not bad, young man; let’s spar when there’s time."
But the distance was too great and the voice too low—Kurama couldn’t quite tell if it was Silva, Zeno, or perhaps Maha.
Regardless, one thing was certain: Hisoka’s days on Kukuroo Mountain would be… memorable.
"And he even delivered himself to them,"
Recalling Hisoka’s earlier antics, Kurama found himself wanting to laugh again.
But gloating is hardly a good habit—the fox coughed lightly, feigning severity as he set Mokona down on the soft bed.
"All dry now?"
The little white fluff glanced around with his tiny paws, then looked up and gave Kurama a wide smile, "Mm, thank you, Kurama."
Fresh from his bath, the little creature was extra fluffy and irresistibly adorable!
Unable to resist, Kurama dove over, scooped Mokona up, and nuzzled him fiercely, making the white fluff shriek and laugh in delight.
After their noisy, playful romp, they finally collapsed together, breathless, at the center of the bed.
"Kurama, the latest chapter of The Rebirth of the Noble Daughter,"
"Hmm?"
"Mokona sensed it. Behind a heavy, strange door. There’s a child… crying all the time."
Kurama was caught off guard by this sudden topic and, for a moment, unsure how to respond.
He knew the child Mokona spoke of was likely Alluka, the Zoldyck family’s fourth, whose terrifying abilities had led the family to keep her confined. The only one in the family who truly treated her as kin was Killua.
Yet, after Illumi implanted a needle in Killua’s mind, it seemed that Alluka’s presence was, for some reason, either forgotten or unconsciously ignored by him. Thus, the child who once had an older brother as a companion lost even that last support.
Kurama could not judge the rightness or wrongness of Silva’s view—as a father, dismissing Alluka as not human and unworthy of familial sentiment—since, from Silva’s perspective as head of the family, his judgment was not without logic.
But what fault lay with Alluka herself? Abilities are indifferent to their host’s wishes.
Whether strong or weak, every ability brings its own trouble to its owner.
Alluka was not the strongest or most pitiful among gifted children; her fate was certainly sad, but not every stranger is qualified to pity or rescue her.
At a loss for how to explain this to Mokona, Kurama could only sigh and draw the little one into his arms.
"Mokona..."
"Mm?" Sensing the complexity swirling in the fox’s heart, the white fluff nestled obediently in his embrace, face innocent as ever.
Kurama smiled, squeezing his ears gently.
"There are some matters we simply cannot interfere with," Kurama said carefully.
"It’s not just because we’re merely passing through this world, but because..."
"Often, we don’t know the whole truth, so we can’t presume to judge or rashly try to 'change' anything."
"Our opinions are subjective, and while I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that," he added, with a rare playful smile, "more often than not, our thoughts are just our own; right and wrong, truth and falsehood—without being part of it, no one can say for sure."
Even more, even if you are involved, clarity may still be elusive.
Killua and Alluka, Illumi and Silva—who was right, and who was wrong?
From each perspective, the conclusions were entirely different.
Kurama's only connection to the Zoldycks was Illumi; he was no overzealous savior, and their family matters were best left to themselves. He saw no reason or qualification to involve himself.
Still, would the little one accept such an explanation?
Turning to where Mokona rested against his shoulder, he saw the little one smiling up at him...
"Mokona understands," he replied cheerfully.
"Yuuko and Clow have said similar things, so Mokona gets it. Also..."
Also, sharing what he sensed with Kurama was simply part of their daily conversation.
Mokona didn’t earnestly hope Kurama would act; he wasn’t a willful or naive child. It was just a topic, nothing more. From the start, he hadn’t expected Kurama to solve anything.
The fox understood.
He drew Mokona to his chest and admitted openly, "Yes, I misunderstood you, Mokona. My apologies."
Mokona, who had never thought Kurama was wrong, shook his head at once.
"Kurama did nothing wrong!"
They exchanged another glance and smiled—
Such exchanges brought them ever closer, and this process was essential for true understanding.
While the two enjoyed their deepening rapport, elsewhere, in the Zoldyck family’s banquet hall, a most serious (or was it?) conversation continued.
Hisoka’s unexpected entrance and confession, and Illumi’s reaction, not only exposed the family’s blunder, but also confirmed that this red-haired man, pleasing enough to their taste (Killua: ...What about my opinion, hmm?), was indeed Illumi’s chosen partner.
"Hisoka?"
Silva was not entirely unfamiliar with the name.
For the Zoldycks, who treated Heaven’s Arena as their children’s playground, this eccentric master of the 200th floor certainly warranted a place in memory.
To be fair, Silva rather admired the magician—so long as he had nothing to do with his eldest son.
"You say you want Illumi? Very well," the father said coolly. "Then here and now, show me you’re worthy of saying so."
With that, a surge of aura filled the hall.
No one outside knew what occurred that night; perhaps only the next morning, when Hisoka appeared with heavier makeup, one arm bound in bandages, and Illumi stoically eyed a hefty sum withdrawn for hall repairs, would a hint be gleaned.
In any case, by the next day, the matter seemed settled.
Hisoka sat grandly at the Zoldyck family’s breakfast table—together with Illumi.
Seeing them arrive together, Silva and the others showed no surprise, which made the gossipy curiosity of Kurama and Mokona nearly unbearable!
But before Kurama could speak, Illumi addressed the room first:
"Hisoka brings news. The auction in September at Yorknew has attracted the Phantom Troupe’s attention. Interested in having a look?"
Kurama raised an eyebrow.
"Is that an invitation?"
Illumi suddenly smiled.
"No, just some information."
A fleeting flash of cunning crossed his face as he spoke.