Eight-Nine-Three

"Father," Killua utters as he enters Silva's office. His head hangs low. The sound of a chair swiveling is all the confirmation that Killua needs to know he's got his father's attention. He steps forward, gripping the cloth in his palm tightly. "Forgive Alluka," he utters, his blood feeling more like ice in his veins than ever as he places the swaddled cloth on his father's desk. He steps back, bowing as Silva considers his offering. "You're dismissed," is all Killua receives."Yes, father," is all he can manage before turning to leave. Once he's safely down the hall and away from Silva's office, he stops, bringing his left hand up and staring at the still-bleeding remaining half of his little finger. He grits his teeth tightly, and forces himself to continue walking to his respective space in the expansive mansion.