Work Text:
. . .
I'll find repose in new ways
Though I haven't slept in two days
'Cause cold nostalgia chills me to the bone
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Killua Zoldyck was drunk on the silence that gathered about his room like fog on a winter morning. It seeped through his pores and drowned his mind in its thick toxicity. It was almost as uncomfortable as actual intoxication. In fact, he nearly wished he was under the influence—it would quell the boredom that surged through him with every aching breath. Nearly; not quite, but nearly.
The world was etched in charcoal and a blanket of stars twinkled above him, but the ineffable beauty of it was replaced by a featureless ceiling. The once lively colors of day-life were no more than a mere dream; he laid in bed, subjected to the unperturbed snores that drooled from Alluka's lips. His sister was buried under the blankets next to him, mouth agape and eyes closed. Drool stained her porcelain skin, along with the cotton pillow underneath.
The usefulness of his thoughts disappeared when the sun left burn marks on the horizon some time ago. The blackness kissed up his skin, in ways his own mother never could. Yet, his young mind continued to churn on the darkness like some runaway motor. There was no end to it, no strings to tie up his thoughts in some perfect way. As an endless amount of ideas danced about in his consciousness like dreams usually would, an elongated sigh came from the ex-assassin. His feet itched for steady ground, for an adventure that would leave normal people sputtering. He wanted nothing more than to run in the grassy plains of tomorrow. However, he was burdened to lay in bed until the heavenly light returned to greet him.
Slowly, he lolled his head to the side. Tangled locks of white came down to frame his vision, but his hands were too comfortable, too heavy, to move it away. Instead, he simply ignored it and looked upon Alluka. A soft smile graced his lips; she looked so peaceful there, out of reach from the grubby hands of their rancorous family. She was safe—they were safe. For the moment, anyhow. Although, on his life and the promise he made with it, he wouldn't hand her back to the people that looked down upon her through fear and hatred.
With the utmost gentleness, the boy brushed a strand of black hair behind her ear. Killua preceded to kiss her forehead in nothing but love as a brother; it failed to make her stir. As long as she slept safe and soundly, he had no real complaints. These nights reminded him of the countless times he spent with Gon; when they slept on the same bed with no sense of privacy; when he promised he would protect the smaller boy because he was his dear friend. However, now, he was in this bed with his sister instead of his best friend. He couldn't protect that stubborn green-haired boy, even if he wanted too. They were thousands of miles apart. Now, they live in two completely different worlds.
With the swiftness of a fox in celerity, the white-haired hunter pulled the blankets from his frame and forced his body to sit up. Another dramatic sigh erupted from his throat as feet rocked back and forth, still unable to touch the cold tile floor. Heels bumped against the headboard in a bed he didn't call his own—one of the many benefits of a Hunter's License, he was able to get into 5-star hotels with ease. The chill of evening struck deep in his bones; it reminded him of the way Hisoka looked at him. The way his narrow eyes bore into his skin and shot straight through his physical self. It was unnerving and unpredictable. Killua was able to connect the clown-man's behavior to the dead of night in more ways than he ever thought.
With a sparse glance Alluka's way, he got to his feet. The ground found a voice and creaked under the weight of his frame—oh, he couldn't allow that. Thankfully, it wasn't loud enough to stir his sister into awareness, but it was enough to make the silence scatter off like bugs under a spotlight. He proceeded to navigate through the pitch blackness; his hands and feet became his eyes when his vision wasn't the dominant sense. Luckily, the room was spotless and he didn't have to worry about tripping over some miscellaneous item. When his quick footsteps became feather-light, his exact location disappeared into the night.
Once his fingers traced the doorknobs to the french doors, his skin cringed at the way the metal bit coldly at his skin. With an exasperated hum, the boy pushes the silk-white curtains aside and stepped out onto the porch that was connected to the hotel. Moonlight gushed from the sky and graced the world with its crepuscular luminescence; the wooden porch before him was cast in a heavenly glow. His deathly pale skin also held a special radiance that reflected the moon's pure beauty. With only a zephyr in the air, he was able to enjoy the bittersweet evening. However, with his waist deep in thought, it made it rather hard to properly appreciate what lay before him.
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Oh if my voice could reach back through the past
I'd whisper in your ear:
"Oh darling, I wish you were here"
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He made sure to close the door as quietly as he possibly could. Once the click echoed off to become atune with crickets, Killua threw his hands over his head and allowed a yawn to pass by. He stretched his body and hummed as his bones responded with several pops.
His blue eyes surveyed the land before him as feet thoughtlessly traveled across the porch until he met with the wooden fence. He leaned up against it and watched the treetops elegantly sway with the winds song. The night brought a specific beauty that people often missed, he often told Alluka. The world was still in play despite the fact that everyone was sleeping. Well, everyone except him, but that wasn't a selcouth occurrence. Gon always got on him about his horrid sleeping habits.
The absence of buzzing cars made the boy want to jump the fence and explore—explore more than he already had, that is. The sibling trio took the day to travel about the area before nightfall. But there was some places he purposely left unattended. He wanted to see some things himself. Surprisingly, Alluka was a good traveling partner; she listened, didn't complain, didn't run off, and stayed out of trouble, unlike some people he knew. All three of his friends were the exact opposite of obident. But, that's what made it fun. Or complete and utterly frustrating. There was no in between. Unfortunately so.
Some part of him—he could blame the feral, adventurous side Gon brought out in him—wanted to jump the fence and never turn back. Seek out alliances and return to times of old. He was sure he could find Kurapika and Leorio first; they often met up on their own terms. However, the logical side of him (the better side, some would say) knew he had responsibilities now. That sole responsibility lay just behind him, on this side of the fence.
On this side of the fence, the side he currently stood, he had Alluka. Oh, sweet innocent Alluka. He also had money, love, freedom, and a sense of purpose, of belonging; everything he didn't know he needed, wanted, and desired. However, on the other side of the fence, he had danger. Complete freedom, energy, adrenaline, adventure, friendship, fun, love—
Gon.
Killua's stomach churned at the name. At the name—at the person—that seemed so far away. He wished he could suddenly bring forth his loving companion. Just for one night, simply because he wasn't selfish enough to steal the boy from the father he searched so undeniably long for. Nor would he willingly leave Alluka or put her in any danger; which was inevitable with the two boys, they seemed to attract danger like a magnet. Just a night. He was acutely conscious of the fact that it would never happen, however. Not for awhile. Their paths diverged a long time ago and something within Killua feared that they would never meet again.
At this point, simply phone calls failed to substitute the irreplaceable warmth of his friends presence beside him. Now, that spot was cold, empty under the night sky. Even the stars seemed to have a friend.
His fingers traced along the wooden porch. With the thoughts and no-body voices residing in his head, he almost forgot how quiet the world was at this hour. He wondered if Gon was awake. If he was sleeping alright, if he was eating, if he was okay, if he—
"Stop it," he drawled calmly, tiredly, to himself and dug his palms into his eye sockets. It wasn't a desperate cry, but, rather, an order. He knew it was ridiculous to dwindle on something so... Doubtful.
He was Ging's son after all.
That simple thought brought forth a smile so proud, it battled with the moon for its brilliance. That beautiful smile graced the boys thin lips as if the mere definition of the word smile was based solely upon it.
That's right. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn't believe in him? He chided himself with a sense of tenderness. Then, he closed his eyes and let loose a mere chuckle. That dumbass is too stubborn to die anyhow.
Memories began to play on the darkened landscape that was his closed eyelids. His friend did escape near death a few times; he could clearly envision all of them. He was a tad bit too reckless for his own good, much to Killua's dismay. The final time was too close for comfort, however, and cost Gon his precious nen. He was so thoughtless, swallowed by negative emotions and woe. Killua almost watched his dear friend take his last breath at 14 years old. If it weren't for Alluka and Nothing, he would've lost his first true friend.
The thought prickled him, of Gon in that wretched bed. Dirty bandages, wires, medicine, machines, that incessant beeping. It drove him crazy, even as he looked back on it. Killua didn't like to think about what would've happened if Gon truly died. He wasn't sure what he would've done. To himself, to everyone.
Fortunately, through the blood and tears, Gon remained himself after the traumatic occurrence. Throughout the pan of their short-lived friendship, Killua noticed that the green haired fool remained the same, uncorrupted by the cruelty the world handed out. He was cloying, rotteningly so, but cared for others much beyond his own beautiful being. He was light—his light. The one that indirectly helped him from succumbing to the darkness.
Some part of him wished it lasted longer. The friendship that connected them; the bond that allowed their hearts to beat in the same tune. They could create new memories to replace the ones that kept him up at night. While their time together was inestimably precious, Killua wanted to see him again. Nobody could particularly blame him, not that he would listen to others anyhow.
You have it easy, Killua. Since it means nothing to you.
With a gasp, similar to arousing from a horrid nightmare, Killua forcefully pushed himself into the presence day. When things were alright, Pitou was long since dead, Gon was with his father, and he was alone on the porch of his hotel room. His breaths came swallow and rattled against his chest. He could hear his skittish heartbeat thump in his ears as he refocused his attention to the trees that gathered in front of him. Goosebumps lined his pale complexion and it wasn't from the wind that caressed his frame.
He'd forgiven Gon for his bad choice of words before their impending departure, but that didn't quell them entirely. They still managed to resurface from his soul to mock him; like a weed that refused to die. For a while, he bit at his insides like hunger did. It made his heart twist in the worst of ways. It made him want to claw at his chest until it went away.
"Big brother?" A small voice invaded the space he made for himself.
Killua felt his breath catch in his throat. However, he didn't hesitate to spin on his heels to face Alluka, of whom looked utterly exhausted. Her black hair was disheveled and her clothes were untucked and messy. Not to mention that she lacked her usual head piece. Her eyes were lined with sleep and one of her hands lingered on the doorknob to the french doors. The boy tucked his hands into his pockets and forced himself to look composed.
"Did I wake you?" He asked with the utmost gentleness. He was utterly grateful his voice didn't reflect the way his mind felt.
The young girl slowly shook her head. "Your warmth left the bed is all," she responded quietly as she began to rub her eyes.
"Ah, I'm sorry," he took in a deep breath. The night air was crisp on the tongue and it left sparks.
"Why are you outside, big brother? It's cold out here," Alluka asked and leaned her body weight onto the doorframe. She crossed thin arms over her chest, where delicate fingers rubbed against exposed skin. She, too, glowed under the body of night. Not as much as Killua, however. Paleness ran in the family.
"Enjoying the view," he answered and flicked his head to point behind him. It wasn't entirely wrong.
She eyed him skeptically and pushed herself from the doorframe. "You couldn't sleep again, huh?" She assumed and approached him. There was a natural skip in her step that he couldn't help but love.
A light chuckle rattled his tired frame. "I can't get anything pass you," he replied, defeated.
She smiled, happy with herself. As she stopped in front of the fence, she leaned on the wood and looked over the purity of nature. The wind played with her hair, and with one breath to the next, she was looking at him. "What kept you up?" She asked gently, in nothing but unaltered curiosity.
"The usual," he answered after a moments reflection. He didn't meet her gaze, and with a hum, she nodded and turned her eyes away.
"He'd want you to sleep, ya know?" She declared without hesitation and pulled herself up. A chill rode down his spine at the statement. He knew she wasn't wrong, far from it in fact, but that didn't make it any easier. Sleep failed to bring him into its warm grasp; it forgot about him again.
When he didn't reply, Alluka slipped her fingers into his hand. Her touch was warm, especially in juxtaposition of the nights' chill. She held it firmly and smiled as he looked down to meet her gaze.
"Come inside," she said so softly, the wind could've took it away. Worry, love, and weariness clouded her youthful eyes. It was clear she just wanted him to be okay. She helped him through the many bouts of emotion he had after the wretched departure. He couldn't thank her enough for the effort, time, and love she saved just for him.
You're going to catch a cold, was what a regular person would follow up with. However, they were both apart of the Zoldyck family—whether they liked it or not—and, because of that, they didn't get sick.
He pressed his lips together. Some part of him knew she wasn't going to leave until he came with her. It was obvious she wasn't going to leave him alone for the darkness to swallow him. She was nice like that; sometimes she was too kind for her own good. It reminded him off a special someone.
"Alright," the word slipped from parted lips like mulberry silk. Her expression brightened and the grin she upheld was probably brighter than the freaking sun.
It was then, she pulled him across the porch, hand in hand. While she wasn't walking all that fast, Killua allowed himself to be dragged. His eyes, narrow and weary, drifted across the night sky one final time.
He hoped Gon was looking too.
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I'll watch the night turn light blue
But it's not the same without you
Because it takes two to whisper quietly
As many times as I blink
I'll think of you tonight
I'll think of you tonight
. . .