Chapter Text
Such a beautiful mess on the rocks I know
Said you didn’t know if you’re comin’ home
Ten thousand miles away from me
And all that we had is lost at sea
“Postcards” - The Dreggs
The first postcard arrives two weeks after his return to Whale Island.
It’s a vintage-style artwork depicting the World Tree, something picked up from one of the many tourist trap shops along the cobbled main street leading to the start of the climb. Someone has drawn two tiny spikey-haired figures at the top of the tree - he guesses it was Alluka, and it makes him smile.
On the back is a brief message scrawled in Killua’s familiar handwriting, intentionally impersonal and abrupt because of the high chance of interception. He scans over it quickly - they’re doing well, they hope he is too, they’re heading north (which could mean any direction but) and will be in touch soon. It’s signed off only with “K” and “A”, but there’s a little heart next to Alluka’s initial.
They’d had almost no contact since splitting at the World Tree, because Killua had deemed direct communications too unsafe for now. Gon didn't know a whole lot because Killua hadn’t wanted to talk about it, but it seemed his family (mainly Illumi) was not happy about Alluka being out of their protection (control) and there was a serious threat of both Killua and Alluka being taken back to Kukuroo Mountain, even with the retraction of his precaution level. Or worse - regardless of his family’s objections, Illumi might take direct control of Killua and use him and Alluka to do horrible things.
Killua had downplayed it, the way he always did, but the sombre look in Alluka’s expression and Leorio’s description of the journey they’d taken to get to Gon filled in enough blanks to make him worried for his friend. It wasn’t like Gon could do anything to help in his current state… so the least he can do is respect the need for minimal communications.
Even if it feels like there is a lot that needs to be said.
He doesn’t expect the pang in his chest as he clutches the postcard in his hand, at the thought of Killua and Alluka out there somewhere far away, heading to who knew where.
Whale Island has never felt so small and isolated as right then, standing next to Aunt Mito’s letterbox holding a postcard from someone he’s suddenly not sure he’ll see again for a very long time.
Chapter 2
Notes:
The second postcard arrives! It's interesting to try and get inside the head of Gon, hopefully that's coming across okay. I'm kind of making up what is happening on Whale Island based on best guesses, but if there's any official canon knowledge that I've missed, please point it out to me. It does seem like being back on Whale Island sans Nen is a good chance for Gon to reflect on his past choices and perhaps undergo some character growth. I guess we'll see :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He’s back at school by the time the second postcard arrives, a photo of a red sandy region with jagged crystalline structures sticking out in all kinds of haphazard directions.
He’s not even sure where it is, and the postcard doesn’t have any caption explaining it either. Probably a deliberate choice by Killua, to minimise traceability. This postcard will also be well behind where the two siblings currently are, because Killua would never risk giving away their actual location so easily.
The message is once again deliberately vague, and he thinks mostly intended to reassure him that they are doing okay and staying ahead of any trails. Killua had dumped his phone at the World Tree and left all the group chats, so these postcards are now the only connection he has to the boy who’d been his inseparable other half for the better part of two years.
The strange hollow feeling is unpleasant, especially when it mixes with the heavy guilt that sits inside him when it comes to Killua and the events of the previous months. He’s spent a lot of time squashing it down, knowing that’s probably the wrong thing, but he also can’t bring himself to confess to Aunt Mito how terrible he’d been to his first (and only) true friend.
It’s likely she can guess anyway, since she’s always been very intuitive like that. Returning to Whale Island alone and without Nen was probably somewhat of a giveaway, he suspects, but she’s been nothing but welcoming. It’s nice that she’s so thrilled to have him home, and it makes the stinging pain of everything he’s lost a little less sharp.
The island seems like a bizarre other reality now that he’s back, some odd parallel world isolated from everything to do with Hunters and Chimera Ants and Zoldycks. At school they’re learning about the different species of butterfly that migrate to Whale Island every year and he feels like he’s bursting inside with the knowledge of the world beyond, bigger than anything this mixed handful of local and transient kids can comprehend.
He wants to stand on his desk sometimes and shout about how pointless this all is - they should be preparing for the next war to come, training while they can, not learning about the ancient irrelevant geologies that shaped the continents.
But they wouldn’t understand anyway, he knows this. They haven’t seen the things he saw, and many of them probably never will.
He’s already gotten three detentions for disrupting the class, but he’s starting to think it’s just Ms Aoyama’s way of funnelling his excess energy into something productive (cleaning and maintenance work around the small makeshift classroom).
I miss Killua.
The thought comes out of nowhere, hits him hard because it’s so strong in his mind. He does, he realises. He really does. He misses the ways they raced each other in the Hunter Exam and the simple days of training on Greed Island, how they always pushed each other to be better in ways no one expected them to actually achieve. He misses the way Killua always had his back in every situation, and how nothing ever scared his friend - he was so fearless and dependable. And he hates that he took it all for granted and threw it away in his rage-fuelled quest for revenge on Pitou.
And he has no way of telling his friend this, because he has no way of knowing where he is and any attempt to reach him would put both Killua and Alluka in danger.
So he does the only thing he can think of, and makes his way to the cliff where he and Killua raced to all those months ago, and takes a photo of the sparkling blue sea and glistening white sand to post on his public profile.
Still beautiful here, but last time was better , he captions, hoping Killua will see it and know what he means. He always was the smarter of the two of them, so he’s pretty sure he’ll get it.
He hopes he does.
Notes:
Does anyone actually know where the region was that the blimp sailed off to at the end of episode 148? My HxH geography is weak, and Google did me no favours here. So Gon inherited my ignorance XD Oh yeah... and I know Killua said they'd stay in touch via email, but for the purpose of this fic, analogue mail was preferred over (more traceable, I think!) digital communications.
Chapter Text
It’s almost a month before the next postcard arrives, and he doesn’t realise he’s been quite so antsy about it until Aunt Mito smirks at him from the front door one afternoon and asks if he’s waiting for something.
Post only comes to the island twice a week anyway, but he can’t break the habit of peeking in the letterbox every day just in case.
“Maybe a little,” he admits bashfully, scratching the back of his head, and she just laughs as she disappears inside.
School is still frustratingly disconnected from reality for him, but he suffers through it because Mito won’t let him do otherwise, and it’s not like he has much else to do anyway now that he’s caught up on the backlog of correspondence school reports. There’s still no trace of Nen or aura (he knows this because he checks daily, sometimes more than once) and he wonders if he really will pay that price forever.
He figures he deserves it, but it doesn’t make it any easier to come to terms with.
Knuckle and Palm have kept him up to date with the latest Hunter happenings (there’s some kind of ongoing political succession drama as far as he understands), and Leorio sends him snapshots every once in a while of whichever medical topic he’s studying that day. He’s thus learnt enough new words like sputum and pustule to last him a lifetime, thanks to his friend's studious generosity.
Kurapika never replies to any of his messages, and Leorio confirms the same radio silence. He really hopes he’s okay, and realises that’s yet another friend he failed along the way in his single-minded quest to find Ging.
It’s a cloudy Thursday when he opens the letterbox and finds the third postcard, his heart jumping in his chest at the sight of it.
This time, it’s waterfalls and tropical ferns and the classic cliche “wish you were here” and by gosh, he wishes he was there too, not because he cares about waterfalls particularly but because he’d be there with Killua and then maybe this void within him wouldn’t feel quite so vast.
He’s not sure he’ll ever find enough words to say sorry in the right way, and he’d completely chickened out from really trying at the World Tree. It had felt like they were both tiptoeing around the issues hanging between them, putting on smiles and a false air of lightness as they pretended the darkness they’d been through wasn’t permanently lurking at the edge of everything. He’d not been ready to deal with it and neither had Killua, but he also hadn’t quite appreciated that they would be parting ways so definitively, that he’d go months without a chance to even try and find a way to apologise properly.
Killua’s message on this postcard is a little longer - he writes about their travels and the different cuisines they’ve encountered and how excited Nanika was to try a cronut for the first time. He asks about Aunt Mito and Great-Grandma Abe, and assures Gon everything is going fine where they are. It sounds like Alluka is really enjoying being out in the world, seeing so much more beyond the walls she’d been confined to for most of her life.
There’s not a lot he feels good about when it comes to what he sacrificed to defeat Pitou, but if it really was the trigger that led to her freedom, then that’s one thing.
There’s a tiny p.s. that makes Gon feel an odd mix of sad and happy.
p.s. these waterfalls are nice and all, but that time was the best for me too.
At least he knows for sure now there’s a way he can send a message to Killua, even if it has to be shared with the rest of the world at the same time.
So he heads to the fishing tree, and he snaps a photo of the dappled sunlight shining through its leaves, and he posts it, with only a smattering of emoji because he can’t think of any words to say what he wants to say - sunshine, fish, tree and heart.
He stares at the heart emoji for a long time, feeling the light breeze tousle his hair as he wonders where Killua is now and what he’s doing.
Then a splash draws his attention, and he spends the rest of the afternoon catching fish to bring back home for dinner.
He’s never really felt alone in the forest, but this time… he notices the significant lack of Killua, and his chest feels tighter than usual.
Notes:
Thank you to those who left kudos <3 It really helps to know there are people out there who like the fic so far!! If you're enjoying it please let me know ^^ (and of course, also if I'm accidentally veering too far away from canon without realising). I'll try to update as often as I can, but still need to figure out exactly where this fic is heading long term. I think I kind of see the ending but there's a fair bit of middle to sort out XD
Chapter Text
The fourth postcard is on his bed when he gets home late after spending the afternoon training in the forest.
He’d come to the conclusion that he’d lived a lot of his life without Nen, and so he could do it again and still be useful as a Hunter. Every day after school, he heads to the forest and does all kinds of training - running, climbing, heavy lifting, stealth, whatever he can think of on the day. The forest’s inhabitants seem vaguely amused by his activities but generally keep a wide berth, and he’s always extra careful to avoid foxbear territory.
He wonders how many Hunters, if any, have found themselves unable to use Nen and whether it’s even technically allowed to be a Hunter if you don’t have Nen abilities anymore. Maybe that’s something to ask Bisky about next time they’re in contact, although he hasn’t heard anything from her since an initial brief check-in following his return to the island.
In any case, he desperately wants to find ways of being useful because maybe that means one day he can help Killua to protect Alluka, if ever the option arises. Maybe one day he can be at his friend’s side, the way Killua had always been at his.
This time it’s snowy-capped mountains and tall, dark green trees and exposed rock faces like jagged tears in the landscape. It seems a rather hostile environment to be passing through, and Gon finds himself shivering despite the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through his window. He hopes they had thick enough clothing to keep warm while they were in such a cold region.
The message is briefer than the previous, and there’s a hastiness to the scribbled writing. They are travelling well, it was damn cold when they passed through the mountains, the food was pretty average. There’s a deliberately cryptic note about almost crossing paths with family and needing to lay low for a while. Gon’s stomach churns with worry.
And another p.s. at the bottom.
p.s. our fish was a million times better than the food here - a billion times!
It’s a somewhat strange feeling with these postcards, in that it’s always a one-sided conversation that Killua has complete control over, and there’s never a chance of it veering into anything complicated or difficult. Even if Killua is thinking about what happened in East Gorteau, he’s not writing about it, and it’s always fairly light and airy as if nothing changed between them and everything is fine.
He suspects Killua’s approach is a deliberate choice, the same way he’s refused to go into many details whenever Aunt Mito asks, other than to vaguely confirm that he and Killua were part of the Hunter team that took down the Royal Guard but that it wasn’t really a big deal. And to her credit, even though she certainly knows he’s lying because he’s woken her up with his nightmares countless times over the last few months, she still plays along and offers nothing but comfort and support when he’s crying and shaking in the middle of the night.
He really hopes Killua has fared better than he has when it comes to the bad memories of fighting the Chimera Ants, but he knows that’s probably a rather vain hope to entertain.
Distracted by his thoughts, Gon is still thinking of what photo to post in reply when Aunt Mito calls him for dinner, and he quickly settles for the view of sunset from his window.
Not cold here at all - sending warm sunset vibes.
He sits on the windowsill, watching the sun disappear into the ocean and wondering if it’s sunset wherever Killua and Alluka are right now.
And then Mito is at his door waving a wooden spoon and he’s practically dragged downstairs to eat.
Notes:
If you're following this, thank you! <3 btw I forgot to say before - while Gon's perception of Killua is "not scared of anything", we all know that's not really true and there are some key things he is certainly afraid of. But it's on purpose here that Gon isn't really aware of those - I don't think he'd really appreciate the kind of fear that Illumi strikes in Killua (most if not all of those scenes, Gon wasn't around for), and I think he only has a vague sense of the fears Killua has when it comes to something happening to Gon. May become relevant later, who knows ;)
Chapter 5
Notes:
This chapter is a lot longer! I am not so capable of brevity, it seems - was nice while it lasted XD The danger with more words is more risk of making mistakes of memory ^^; There are spoilers for the post-Chimera manga if you haven't read it - at least, the developments I'm aware of! So a few things: 1) I'm assuming Christmas exists even though it hasn't ever been directly mentioned afaik, 2) Whale Island is assumed to have seasons kind of equatorial-like (e.g. similar to Hawaii), 3) I have no idea how Zoldycks celebrate Christmas but I am quite sure it is horrible, 4) the timing of Leorio's recruitment to the Zodiacs is not super clear but I went with what I could find, and 5) I was a little generous with the concept of a Christmas diversion given the soon-after "discovery" of it being almost New Year's, but plz roll with it :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Christmas on Whale Island is always a bit of a weird affair.
The island doesn’t really have seasons in the same way other parts of the world do, so it’s not really cold at all and there’s no chance of snow, going against many of the traditional depictions of the holiday season. But the cards in the shops along the marina always have these strange renditions of snow and fireplaces and cold starry nights, so at odds with Gon’s own experience of this time of year. Sure, there’s the occasional “Christmas on the beach” card as a novelty, but the bulk of the continents decided long ago that Christmas means cold, snowy weather.
He remembers asking Kurapika about this once, knowing he would get helpful answers from his worldly and knowledgeable friend. Kurapika had smiled a little, and said it had everything to do with the lived experience of the majority. Or at least, he added a little darkly, the majority who had the most influence to shape the world narrative.
“There weren’t enough people around from Whale Island to tell everyone else what Christmas was like for them, I suppose,” Kurapika concluded.
“What was Christmas like for you growing up?” he’d asked Kurapika at the time. He remembers how the familiar mix of fondness and sadness had crossed his friend’s face, like it did whenever he was thinking about his people.
“We didn't call it that, but it was a time for us all to get together,” Kurapika had said, with a tight smile. “It was a cold season for us, so there’d be lots of gathering around the fire and telling stories and eating seasonal foods. Not entirely like the snowy fireplaces on the cards you mentioned, but much closer to that than your island, it seems.”
Gon had looked to Leorio and Killua then, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“I’d usually volunteer at different shelters during that period,” Leorio shrugged. “It was also cold where we were, so that time of year hit the homeless really badly. The folks running the shelters and food services were always grateful for all the help they could get, and I didn’t have anything better to do anyway.”
Killua had just crossed his arms and scowled.
“I have no good memories of Christmas,” he said simply, and that was all he had to say on the topic.
To Gon’s disappointment, their little group of four had never gotten the chance to spend any Christmases together because by the time it came around, Gon and Killua were training in Greed Island, Leorio was back at home studying medicine and Kurapika was… somewhere else.
Time passed in a curious way on Greed Island overall, but the local Christmas period had been clearly marked with many themed decorations appearing across the different areas. They only found out later that Greed Island time was linked to the real world, so hadn’t realised it was actually Christmas everywhere.
Bisky had insisted they take a break from training for “Christmas dinner” at Caveau de Riquewihr (an eclectic but tasty mix of unidentified roast meats, vegetables and gravy), and the three of them managed to con one of the market stall vendors into giving them spiced wine despite their (apparent, in the case of Bisky) age. Killua had been arguing he wouldn’t even feel any effects from it anyway because of his resistance to poison, but in the end it was Gon’s charm and Bisky’s ID card that won over the vendor. He’d thrust three mugs in their hands, taken their money, and shooed them off.
His most vivid memory from that time was sitting on the edge of an old stone wall with Killua and Bisky, sipping their gluhwein with flushed cheeks as they looked down at the mix of Hunters and NPCs trickling through the golden-lit markets below.
“How about now, Killua?” he’d prompted with a wide grin.
“Now, what?”
“Any good memories of Christmas?”
He’d nudged up against Killua affably, as Bisky glanced curiously at the two of them, her gloved hands cupped around her mug.
“Hmph, maybe one,” was Killua’s begrudging admission, his cheeks seeming pinker all of a sudden. “But you’re ruining it by being dumb, Gon!”
“I would never!” Gon had laughed, throwing his arms around both of them and nearly spilling his drink in the process, to Bisky and Killua’s great annoyance. The night had ended with the three of them sharing a gigantic cinnamon churro twisted into the shape of a star before teleporting back to the badlands.
He’d been lucky enough to have a lot of great Christmas memories from his childhood, and yet that one on Greed Island with Killua and Bisky was still one of the best. His only regret from that time was that he never got the chance to get Killua a Christmas present, partly because they’d spent every waking hour together and partly because he had been entirely stumped on what to get his friend. One day he’s hopeful he can make up for that.
School finally lets out by mid December and he’s grateful for that, giving him more time for training and exploring parts of the island he hasn’t visited since he was a kid. He helps Aunt Mito around the house, climbing up on the roof to fix a few cracked tiles and revarnishing the worn front door, and he tags along some days with Grammy Abe to help out at the market.
He knows people are wondering why he’s back on the island when he left rather ostentatiously to become a Hunter, but so far very few have had the nerve to ask him directly and instead seem content to whisper about it as he passes by. To those who do ask him, he simply says he’s taking a break, and secretly hopes that maybe one day that will be shown to be the truth.
His phone pings one morning and it’s a selfie from Leorio, in front of the Hunter’s Association headquarters in Swardani City. A few texts later, and it turns out Leorio is now a member of the Zodiacs, in place of Ging. He idly wonders why his dad left the Zodiacs, and what he’s up to now, but he figures Ging will have some kind of agenda that may (or may not) be revealed later. Leorio seems unsure about his new role, but apparently he’s been promised that practical training under Cheadle’s guidance will progress his medical studies and it overall appears to be a great opportunity for him. And apparently, he cut a deal to bring Kurapika into the Zodiacs too.
Leorio seems pretty relieved about soon being able to keep a closer eye on their absent friend. Assuming they can find Kurapika and he agrees to join, but Leorio is confident that it will work out once Kurapika hears what the Zodiacs have to say.
It’s been almost two months now since the last postcard, but he’s been assured by Palm that there’s still a huge bounty on Killua and Alluka on the Hunter dark web, likely placed by Milluki, and so they can’t have been captured yet. He figures they’re just trying to keep moving and avoid anything that could trace their location.
It’s the day before Christmas, and a small, beaten-up package arrives in the post addressed to him.
After staring at it for probably an awkwardly long time, he pockets it and shouts a hasty goodbye in the direction of Aunt Mito as he dashes into the forest, keen for some inexplicable reason to open it far away from the house without the prying eyes of his aunt over his shoulder. He ends up at the rocky outcrop where he and Killua spent the evening talking about the future under the bright island stars.
He dangles his legs over the edge as he cradles the small package in his palms, looking it over. It’s definitely Killua’s handwriting, and it’s been sticky-taped excessively. There’s also a faint tingle when he touches it, and he wonders if Killua has somehow embedded a kind of Nen protection on top of it. He turns it over, caught in a strange anticipation of both wanting and not wanting to open it.
In the end, it takes him fifteen minutes to find a way into the very sealed package, pulling out a folded piece of paper and a leather-corded bracelet with a small turtle carved out of a dark porous stone woven onto it.
Instead of a postcard, he unfolds the paper to reveal a letter, not as brief or vague as normal because it had been protected by the many layers of sticky tape.
Hey Gon, he reads.
Sorry it’s been a while, we had to shake a few tails and stay out of sight for a bit. We’ve been around a few different places, but not really the normal touristy areas so I couldn’t get any postcards.
The best place was near this cluster of active volcanoes. We met an old guy there, he was all wrinkly and leathery and kind of reminded me of Netero. Stayed with him for a bit, we helped him collect materials and he taught us how to carve shapes out of the lava rock. He’s got a pretty sweet side hustle selling stuff at high prices to tourists, I reckon Leorio would approve.
Anyway I made you this. He said turtles were good luck for long life. Sorry it’s not very good, but this was the third attempt and the first two were way worse. You don’t have to wear it! I didn’t really want to send it, but Alluka said I should and that you’d probably like it anyway.
Well, I’m writing this from somewhere else entirely and won’t send it for another couple weeks to be safe, but hopefully it’ll still get to you in time.
It’s much warmer than before, but probably not as warm (or nice) as your sunset. Alluka says hi.
K (+ A)
He’s barely finished reading the letter before he’s sliding the leather bracelet onto his left wrist, tightening it and turning it so the turtle is on the top. He folds the letter back up and zips it in a pocket to keep it safe, along with the packaging, and then turns his attention back to the bracelet.
It feels a little corny to think it, but it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.
He traces his finger lightly over the carved edges of the turtle, feeling closer to Killua than he has in months. Killua has always been a perfectionist and the turtle is no exception - it’s immaculately rendered in the rock, even at the small scale, and in Gon’s eyes, it is flawless.
He can guess why Killua chose something that represents long life, and he feels the familiar guilt gnaw at him, feels it twist his insides as he remembers the faintest flashes of that night in the forest with Pitou.
When he woke up in the hospital bed, he lied and said he didn’t remember anything. That the last thing he recalled was Pitou saying Kite was beyond saving, that Kite was dead.
But that wasn’t true.
It was hazy and distorted, but he relived pieces of what had happened, sometimes vividly during his nightmares. And he could still see the horrified look on Killua’s face when he arrived, the despair and pain marring his friend’s features. All of it caused by Gon.
The last thing he genuinely remembered was Killua screaming out his name, screaming for him to stop as he poured all his remaining energy into that final jajanken. He’d felt then that there was no other choice, and a part of him still believes that because Pitou needed to be stopped, at any cost, but he wishes he could take back all the pain he caused Killua.
But he can’t, he knows this. And even saying sorry properly one day isn’t going to cut it, not even close. There’s a mutinous part of him that sits deep within and constantly worries that his Nen might not be the only thing he loses forever as a result of that final battle with Pitou.
The afternoon sunlight shines on the turtle, and his heart warms at the sight of it. This is proof at least that Killua hasn’t given up on him yet, isn’t it? That maybe one day he will forgive him and they could go back to somewhere like they were before, that they have a chance of living out the dreams they confessed to each other that night under the stars.
Back then, he’d been searching for answers about his father and Killua had been searching for what he wanted to do with his life, but in looking back, the things he remembers most was the excitement he felt at the prospect of exploring the world together, of having fun forever with Killua at his side.
We can travel around and see the world together!
Don't you ever feel embarrassed saying that stuff?
He'd always found it amusing back then how hard it was for Killua to accept emotions or affection, getting so immediately uncomfortable and awkward about it. It had been easier to find it amusing than the alternative - dwelling on how cold and lonely Killua's upbringing must have been.
It'll be a blast!
Yeah... doesn't sound too bad.
And they’d had fun, for sure… but there’d been a lot of darkness and death, too. He wonders if it’s the fate of the world to always need saving, and sincerely hopes not because he knows he won’t be able to walk away if it does.
He holds his wrist up against the azure backdrop of the shimmering water, and snaps a photo.
Best present I’ve ever received - wish the distance between us wasn’t so great.
Before he can overthink the second part which he knows is not fair to suggest, he’s already posted it.
Notes:
thx for continuing to read, please let me know if you are liking this! It's a great motivator to know people are out there who want to see this progress <3
Chapter 6
Notes:
Even if Christmas is questionable, we know New Year's exists in HxH world, so there's that :) I'm not sure how much is known about Noko more broadly, other than her existence and possible indication in the so-called "scrapped ending" of the manga, so I've gone with what works best for the fic - I hope it comes across okay!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Christmas comes and goes and suddenly it’s the eve of the new year, and he is forced out of the house by his aunt to watch the fireworks with the other island kids.
“It’ll be good for you to hang out with kids your age!” she claims as she pats him on the back on the way out. He knows at least part of it is because she has a tradition with his great grandma of getting smashingly drunk and swearing about Ging for hours, and has always wanted to protect him from that, even though she knows he knows what a bum his dad can be.
But she probably also genuinely thinks it’s best for him to be out of the house in a social way, since she’d expressed concern about how much time he’d been spending in the forest alone lately.
“I’m not alone!” he’d protested. “There’s all the animals around, Kon’s there too!”
Apparently, hanging out with foxbears did not count as adequate social interaction in Aunt Mito’s eyes.
It’s sticky that night, so he’s down to just his white singlet and green shorts and sandals, but still wishing he could wear less clothes. The humidity clings to him, and it’s visible in the sheen on all the other kids’ faces.
He doesn’t realise it until it’s almost midnight, but Noko has been sticking to his side all night. They’ve always been the only two kids the same age on the island who aren’t transient, and she’s grown a lot taller since he left the island almost two years ago - she’s now even a little bit taller than him, and that hurts his ego a bit. Her auburn hair is longer and she’s grown her fringe out, and somehow it makes her light green eyes stand out even more.
“It’s really nice that you’re finally back,” she says shyly, bumping up against him as they all sit on the roof of the town hall. It’s the best view of the harbour from which the fireworks will be launched, and there’s always been some kind of unspoken rule in town that it’s reserved for all the kids on the island. Not that the decaying roof could take much more weight, though.
Gon doesn’t know what to say to her, because his return to the island has continued to be a source of constant low-level frustration for the five months that have now passed. While it’s still nice to be back with his family and even to be on the island again to some extent, he feels constantly restless, like he doesn’t belong here anymore and he is needed elsewhere (except that’s not true in his current state and he worries sometimes that no one will ever need him again).
He has never been a good liar, so he can’t bring himself to say he’s happy being back, and he just settles for a tight smile and a nod.
He stiffens when she moves her hand over his, feels a weird tightness in his chest. It’s not like with touring the older women around the island when he was younger, or even with Palm, he had always felt in control then and suddenly he feels completely out of his depth.
He suddenly, inexplicably, pictures Killua in his mind, and feels oddly guilty for being here on the roof at New Year’s with Noko instead of him.
“I really missed having you around,” she continues, her fingers light on his skin but somehow burning him. “The rumours were you might never come back, like your dad… but I never believed them.”
Her hand nudges against the bracelet from Killua, and she peers at it in the pale light from the nearby lamp post, her fingers brushing over the turtle in a similar way to what he had done when it first arrived in the post. He can’t explain it, not really, but it makes him super uncomfortable to have her touching something that Killua made for him, and he abruptly pulls his wrist away.
“Sorry,” he says at her surprised look. “It’s… from someone important.”
He doesn’t know why he can’t say more than that, but it feels too personal to share details with her.
“Oh,” she says in a strange, low voice. “Someone you met when you were travelling?”
“Yeah,” he says, shifting sideways so there is a little more space between the two of them.
Noko is silent for a while, a thoughtful expression on her face as she looks out across the water reflecting the lights of the marina.
“Do you love her?” she asks finally, turning back to him, and the question catches Gon completely off guard.
“What?” he blurts out, without thinking.
“The girl who gave you that, the one you met. Do you love her?”
It’s such a naive question, he feels, coming from a thirteen year old’s perception of what it means to care about someone and what that someone might be like.
Whatever it is he has (or… had ) with Killua, it feels deeper than that, they’ve been through so much together, to literal hell and back. They’ve saved each other from all kinds of dark things, survived together through way too many near-death situations, and he knew from so early on that Killua was his best friend, even though he was also his first friend. He was special from the moment they met, but it wasn’t love in the sense that Noko is thinking of.
It’s more than that, he thinks. It’s bigger than that.
But he doesn’t know how to explain this to Noko.
He doesn’t even really know how to explain this to himself.
“It’s… hard to explain,” he says lamely, causing her eyes to narrow, and he wonders if he should have just lied and said yes so she dropped the topic.
“If she’s so important to you, why are you here and she isn’t?”
There’s a deliberate and hurtful sting to her words, although he senses she is mainly reacting to his reticent vagueness.
“That’s also complicated,” he says weakly. “But it won’t be like this forever.”
Will it?
Noko’s eyes flash as the first of the midnight fireworks explode beyond them, the kids around them starting to cheer, and before Gon can react, she leans forward and kisses him, her lips soft against his.
He pulls back with wide eyes, his cheeks burning hot, and she smiles a little, almost a smirk.
“If it doesn’t work out with Mystery Girl, I might still be interested,” she shrugs. “Or maybe not. You’ve got a lot of competition here, you know.”
Her wry words are accompanied by a slight eye roll as they both glance around at the assortment of others around them, mostly younger kids, with a few older kids who are all departing in the coming weeks of the new year.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.
“Can’t be helped if your heart already belongs to someone else,” she sighs dramatically, turning her attention back to the fireworks and pulling her knees to her chest.
Her words stay in his mind for many, many hours afterwards, even as the new year’s sun rises on the horizon and he’s lying back in his bed at home staring sleeplessly up at the ceiling.
Does my heart belong to someone else?
He’s not really sure, but he does know that Killua is someone he cares about more than pretty much anyone else, that he’s been on his mind constantly in the past months.
Why are you here, and she isn’t?
Noko thought he was pining for some far-away girl, but it doesn’t change the fact that Killua is absent, and Gon is here, and he doesn’t know when he’ll ever see his friend again.
There’d been no reply to his post yet, but it was only a week ago and he had no reason to believe the situation had changed such that Killua and Alluka would be safe enough to come visit him. And the small dissonant part deep within him questions whether Killua would even want to see him, after everything that had happened in East Gorteau.
He feels more than ever like he really needs to talk to Killua though, he needs more than their one-sided months-apart interactions - and maybe that would help him understand what he is feeling.
And what it means for their strangely entwined hearts.
Notes:
Thanks for continuing to read, hope you liked it! <3 let me know any thoughts, comments, etc, would love to hear :) Still sort of figuring out exactly where this is going, but the near future is pretty clear! Apologise if there's anything slipping through, please let me know if you spot anything so I can fix it. Till next time!~
Chapter 7
Notes:
Thx so much to everyone continuing to follow this!! <3 I think I'm filling in most of the gaps for this fic and where it's heading, can't say exactly how many chapters yet (not a huggggge amount I think/hope), but the next few are pretty clear, so expect updates soon :) Doing my best to get everything as canon-correct as possible, forgive me if I get anything grossly wrong (or let me know so I can look at fixing it!) - I am guessing / making up some things about the Hunter Association, but hopefully nothing too wild!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The first couple of weeks of January pass slowly, and his petulant impatience grows.
“I just really want to talk to him directly,” he says, knowing his voice is approaching a whine as he pouts at his phone camera. “It’s so hard just relying on delayed postcards and public posts, and I can’t ever say anything to him properly this way.”
The pixelated renditions of Palm and Ikalgo exchange a look, and it’s longer than it should be and makes him immediately suspicious.
“What?”
Palm just shakes her head slightly, and looks at him with an expression that he quickly reads as cautionary. The digital lines aren’t really secure, after all, so he understands why she is being careful. They never say Killua’s name explicitly when they speak, and instead have always used contextual cues to indicate who they’re speaking about.
“We’ve been thinking about a visit to see you,” she says instead. “Knuckle and Shoot have both fully recovered now, and Morel wants a break from all the political drama. Plus the Association wants us to check in on how you are doing and report back to them. Is it a nice time of year on the island?”
Gon blinks, both stunned and suddenly excited at the prospect of so many of his Hunter friends coming to visit.
“YEAH!” he basically shouts, so loudly that Aunt Mito yells something in annoyance at him from downstairs. “It’s always great here!”
“Perfect,” says Palm, glancing at Ikalgo. “We’ll make the arrangements.”
Gon bounces his head up and down, barely hearing the rest of the conversation and lost in the fact that next week he will be a little less isolated from the Hunter world he’d never thought he’d ever have to leave.
And he knows there’s something important Palm isn’t willing to say over the phone - something about Killua - so he’s excited about that too.
He figures he better give his aunt a heads up about their pending visitors, and hopefully she’ll not be too mad that he offered their house to all the visiting Hunters. He can at least get started on the apology chores already, and that will give his elevated energy an outlet.
Next week really can’t come fast enough.
They show up on the midday ferry, and he can’t help but smile at the sight of them, so different and out of place to the normal fishing crews and tourists. They’re drawing sideways glances from everyone around them, both on the ship and on the docks, and he knows they must be hyper aware of it because even without Nen he can sense the curiosity coming off of people in waves.
He notices immediately that Palm has opted to cover up all traces of her Chimera Ant appearance under clothing and accessories, and while it saddens him a bit that she has to do this, he also recognises that the locals of Whale Island would have a lot of trouble understanding what happened to her. It’s never really been easy to be different on a small island.
“Here, over here!” he shouts and waves, jumping up and down on the spot. The five Hunters make their way over to him and he pulls them all together into a giant group hug, despite Morel’s half-hearted protest about maintaining his tough guy persona. He thinks it’s a massive shame that Meleoron couldn’t join too, but he figures the mission he’s on in Meteor City is probably super important.
“It’s good to see you, kid,” Knuckle says sincerely, and Shoot nods in agreement. Palm smiles fondly at him, and it’s full of warmth and caring, but he senses none of the obsessive darkness from before. Apparently she and Knov have been getting along well and even been on a couple of “official” dates - at least that’s what Knuckle had messaged him on the down low when he’d asked about how she was doing on that front.
Given the recent experience with Noko and his confused feelings about Killua, he’s kind of glad that it seems like it’ll be simpler with Palm.
Ikalgo seems a little reserved, and he’s not sure why, but resolves to ask him about it later.
He convinces everyone to go on a quick tour around the marina and town with him before heading to Aunt Mito’s, showing them some of the local sights and shops. It’s a bright sunny day on the island, with a light cooling breeze, and it’s one of the times he thinks Whale Island is at its best.
He realises as he points out all the different spots that so many of them are places he would have liked to show Killua, or places they could have gone together, but they never got the chance because their planned downtime on Whale Island was cut short by the quest to find the Greed Island game.
Maybe one day, he thinks, but he thinks that a lot when it comes to Killua.
It's not easy, but he patiently waits until the evening to bring up Killua directly, choosing an opportune moment while he and Palm are alone in the kitchen sorting out the washing up from dinner.
“I’m impressed you managed to wait this long,” she says with a smile as she puts down the tea towel. “Though I confess I could sense your anxiety from the moment we arrived.”
He grins a little guiltily.
“It’s been super hard waiting till now to find out what you couldn’t tell me on the phone,” he admits. “It is about Killua, isn’t it?”
She nods.
“It’s too unsafe to mention except here with you,” she says. “Do you know much about my Wink Blue ability?”
“Uh… only that it’s like your crystal ball ability, and you… can do it for three people?”
He still feels bad about being so consumed with Pitou that he’d completely missed Palm’s battle against her Chimera Ant transformation, but he’s glad that Killua had been able to help her through it.
“Yes, and it only changes if I look at someone new with just my right eye,” she says. “And… to be safe… I’ve kept one of those people as Killua all this time. But almost no one knows about this because we can’t risk his family finding out. It would be easy enough to overwrite my remote view of him if it came to it, but then we wouldn’t be able to check on or help him if anything should happen.”
Gon nods seriously, understanding the weight of her words and the importance of keeping Killua and Alluka safe.
“Where is he now?” he asks, his breath catching in his throat. “Are they doing okay?
She pauses, covering her right eye as she checks, her brow furrowing slightly.
“It looks like they are in Swardani City,” she says in a low voice, as if there is the constant threat of being overheard. Perhaps there is, but he kind of wants to believe that maybe Whale Island is a sanctuary from all that.
Gon’s heart leaps in his chest as he processes Palm’s words. Swardani? If he left now, he’d be there within a day, and the impatiently insane part of him wants to dash out the door immediately.
“That’s actually good,” Palm says. “We have a lot of people there because of the Association, ones we can trust, and we might be able to set something up.”
At Gon’s blankly confused expression, she elaborates.
“So you can talk to him…? Isn’t that what you wanted, Gon?”
“Oh!” he exclaims. “Yeah - more than anything.”
Well, he would prefer seeing Killua in person, of course, but he’s too scared that desire might be completely one-sided to really consider it.
“Honestly, this isn’t just about you,” she adds. “We’ve been wanting to check in on them directly for a while, see how they are doing and whether any form of intervention might be needed. And… well, it’s unfortunate, but there is extra interest in the two of them from the Association now too, because of the bounty.”
She crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with the situation.
“Not that it’s unusual to have a bounty on a Zoldyck family member, of course, but this is the largest one ever placed by the family itself on its own members and that has drawn attention. We’re trying to suppress it as much as we can, but direct contact will help keep things at bay for a while. Some people are concerned that Killua and Alluka pose a threat, and we need to squash that before it escalates beyond our control. Not to mention the more unscrupulous Hunters who will readily hunt one of their own for the right amount.”
“I see,” Gon says, his forehead creasing with concern. It seems so unfair that the whole world should be turning against Killua when all he ever wanted was to be free from his family, and for his sister to be free too.
“But leave it with me,” Palm says calmly. “I should be able to sort something out without any risk to Killua and his sister, and I think we can sort out the Association too. It’s a little surprising they are in Swardani City, but we can make that work, there’s a lot of cover offered by a big city.”
“Okay,” Gon says hopefully. “Thanks, Palm.”
She reaches out and squeezes his hand lightly, reassuringly. It’s a little strange given their history, but also really nice that she’s so supportive of helping him talk to Killua. For a while, he thought the two of them might genuinely murder each other when he wasn’t looking.
“I’ll go.”
The firm voice causes them both to turn to the doorway, where Ikalgo is standing with his arms crossed and a determined expression.
“This is too important to take any risks if we really are going ahead with it, I don’t want Killua put in danger,” Ikalgo continues, eyes hard. “No one can be trusted as much as me - I’d die before putting them in jeopardy, you know that.”
Palm’s mouth is a tight line, but she nods slightly in agreement.
“Fine, but you’ll have to go in disguise,” she says. “Switch bodies once you get to the edge of Swardani, so you don’t draw suspicion leaving from here.”
“Naturally,” he shrugs. “I’ll leave at dawn. Use the normal means to inform me of any changes to their location.”
He turns to go.
“Wait,” Gon says. “Could we talk? Outside somewhere?”
Ikalgo looks back at him a little warily.
“Sure,” he says, but his voice is all hesitation and avoidance.
“I know the perfect spot,” Gon beams, and leads the way out the door, while Palm discreetly takes her exit to join the raucous voices and clinking beer mugs in the lounge.
Notes:
A couple quick notes! Re: Palm, I dunno, I'm not really sure exactly what pre-Chimera Ant Palm was supposed to be, but I found it a little icky at times and so I'm not really bringing back that aspect of her personality. I liked the Palm in the Killua vs. Palm scene (after she breaks hold of the Chimera Ant control), I didn't love the Palm that freaked out because Gon said he needed to train instead of pandering to her weird date fetish ^^; And with Ikalgo - well, the next chapter will explore this further, but there are (I think, good) reasons for his stand-offishness. Hopefully you'll agree!
Chapter Text
It takes them a little while to get there, but he has a sense that Ikalgo will probably like feeling connected to Killua in the same way he does whenever he comes here.
He doesn’t know too much about their friendship or what they went through together, but he knows (now) that Ikalgo saved Killua’s life, and for that he feels he will always owe him a great and unpayable debt. But there is more to it than that, if he’s honest.
From the moment Killua and Ikalgo had arrived together before the infiltration of the palace, it had been obvious to Gon that there was a unique bond connecting them. It was there in the way Ikalgo looked at Killua with a gaze that was almost adoring, and the way Killua somehow seemed a little softer and more mature around the Chimera Ant. Gon could see at the time that he’d missed something important and it caused an odd ache within him, but back then he’d been too wrapped up in the prospect of facing Pitou to pay it too much attention.
He suspects that Ikalgo’s feelings about Killua are key in the way he’s been acting since arriving at Whale Island, which makes him a little sad because he doesn’t want someone so important to Killua to dislike him.
“This is a pretty nice spot,” Ikalgo admits begrudgingly, walking slowly to the edge of the cliff to peer out at the dark lake below. He’s still stand-offish and distant, but he’s hopeful Ikalgo might open up to him about it now that they are here and far away from the rest of the visiting Hunters.
“I brought Killua here when he visited Whale Island,” he offers, pointing at the remnants of the fire. “We hung out here for hours, under the stars - it was one of the best nights of my life.”
“Is that right,” Ikalgo says, a little gruffly, but he looks around the area with slightly wider eyes.
“He was a bit at a loss then,” Gon continues, hoping that by revealing more, maybe Ikalgo will soon also feel like sharing whatever is on his mind. “For me, it was simple, I guess - it was all about finding my dad and learning more about why he became a Hunter, but Killua was only just starting to seriously think about what he’d do with his life outside of the expectations of his family.”
“Instead he ended up following you,” Ikalgo remarks, a little coldly.
“Yeah,” Gon admits. “It was selfish of me, but all I wanted back then was to find Ging, and I wanted Killua to be at my side for everything. It was so fun together, I just wanted us to be like that forever. See the world, have adventures… it was a lot simpler then.”
Ikalgo doesn’t say anything, but simply regards him carefully.
“I do feel awful about how I treated him,” Gon says softly. “I know how wrong it was… even then, I think a part of me knew how unfair I was being, but I was also just so angry. About what had happened to Kite, but even worse, how completely helpless I’d been to do anything about it. It consumed me, and I couldn’t think of anything except getting stronger and making up for that failure. ‘Saving Kite’ is what I said to Killua, except I knew deep within me it was too late for that. He knew it too. But he was there for me anyway, through everything.”
“He almost died for you,” Ikalgo says, eyes shining in the darkness. “You didn’t even know, did you? Didn’t ask where he’d been… didn’t care.”
Gon swallows the lump in his throat. It was true at the time he didn’t know the details and hadn’t asked, not after Killua said everything was fine. But he’d gotten them later via Knuckle, who’d heard from Ikalgo one drunken night in Yorknew when they were all comparing who was the toughest Hunter.
It hadn’t surprised him that Killua had outright won that debate even without being present. According to Knuckle, Ikalgo had recounted the tale of a horrific battle Killua had with some Chimera Ants called the Ortho siblings, who’d punctured his body all over with Nen darts and caused him to almost bleed out even though he managed to find a way to defeat them. To save him, Ikalgo had to pull Killua out of a large pool of his own blood and take him to an underground hospital for emergency surgery.
Which explained why he’d been missing for a few days, even though he lied about it to Gon and said nothing had really happened when they finally were in contact again.
He’d had a lot of sleepless nights after what Knuckle told him, his brain (and heart) punishing him by creating all kinds of scenarios where Killua was dying in East Gorteau and Gon couldn’t do anything about it.
“I didn’t ask him to,” he protests weakly, and Ikalgo’s eyes narrow in annoyance.
“That doesn’t change the fact that it happened.”
“I know, but if I could just speak to him…”
“Then what? You say sorry and it’s all forgiven, like it never happened?”
“No, of course not,” Gon says, eyes stinging slightly against his will. “I know that wouldn’t be enough.”
Ikalgo looks at him wearily.
“You know, I’d do anything for that kid, any day,” he says wryly. “It’s the dumbest thing. I was ready to kill him, he almost killed me, but the way he said I was a cool guy anyway and maybe we could have been friends… it just got to me. I couldn’t let him die after that. He’s too special. He doesn’t deserve any of what’s happened to him, all the pain, torture, having to be on the run constantly now - and who knows what his so-called family would do to him if they caught up. But even in all that and even though I’m pretty sure part of what he’s running away from is you… I think he’d still die for you, even now.”
“I don’t want him to die!” Gon cries angrily, clenching his fists. “That’s the last thing I want. I don’t know if I can ever make it up to him, but I want to try… I’ll do anything, I swear it.”
Ikalgo stares at him for a long moment, then sighs, his expression softening.
“Ah geez,” he grumbles. “I see why he’s such a sucker for you, kid. You’re so goddamn earnest. You’re an idiot at times, but your heart’s in the right place, I suppose.”
“Why are you so mad at me?” Gon asks, trying and failing to suppress the pout. “It’s to do with Killua, I get that, but… why exactly?”
Ikalgo grimaces, and walks out to the edge of the rocky outcrop, staring up at the sky beyond. It’s not as clear as it was that night with Killua, but the stars are still twinkling brightly through the wispy clouds above.
He turns back to face Gon, his expression wistful and sad at the same time.
“After everything you put him through, he still put you first above everything, you know? You were all he worried about. When he found out you were in danger from Pitou, he was gone just like that, not even a spared thought for his own safety. And that was after what you said to him, whatever it was that caused him to have a near breakdown. I just…”
He trails off, frowning and looking a little embarrassed.
“… I guess I’m jealous in this stupid way. Of why it’s you … you’re the one he cares about most. No one else will ever measure up. He puts you on this pedestal, you’re this precious, untouchable beacon for him… And you tossed him aside like he was nothing.”
“I didn’t mean-”
“Intent is nothing, kid,” Ikalgo holds up a crimson tentacle, his mouth set in a hard line. “Action is everything. So it’ll be what you do that matters most, nothing else.”
Gon sinks to his knees on the floor, feeling guilty and defeated. The dirt is still vaguely warm from the light of the sun, which surprises him a little since it’s so late now. It comforts him in a way he feels like he doesn’t really deserve, reminding him of the feel of warm sand on late afternoons.
“What do you think I should do?”
“For starters… consider that what you want might not be what he wants, and respect that if it turns out that way.”
He knows what Ikalgo is implying, and he stares down at the dirt mutely.
“But what if he never wants to talk to me or see me again?”
Ikalgo pauses, considering.
“I dunno, Gon,” he says in a slow, measured way. “I guess you’ll have to try and figure out if that’s what’s best for him, if you really care about him.”
It hurts that Ikalgo could consider it possible that Gon might not really care about Killua, but then, he supposes that's not an unfair judgment based on his past actions.
“Please, when you see him - convince him to at least talk to me?” Gon looks at Ikalgo imploringly. “I know you don’t entirely trust me, I understand why, but I promise, I don’t want to do anything to harm Killua again. Not ever. All I want to do is make it up to him.”
Ikalgo fixes him with a long stare, considering his response.
“I guess maybe you are a bit different to your old man, then,” he says at last. “Look, honestly, I’ve been against trying to make direct contact with them from the beginning because I think it’s too risky and might expose them to the Zoldyck family. But even independent of you, there’s the Hunter Association crap to deal with, so I think that ship has sailed. So… I’ll try, Gon. But if he says no, and if he means it, then I’m going to be on his side for it, not yours. Okay?”
“Yeah, understood,” Gon says solemnly. “Thanks, Ikalgo.”
“And you gotta understand one more thing,” Ikalgo adds, his expression grim. “I know I haven’t known Killua as long as you, but the way I see it… when he met you, you gave him something to die for, regardless of whether you wanted it that way or not. But Alluka, his sister? She’s something he has to live for. There’s a difference there, you get it?”
Gon nods silently, but thinking how much he wants to be a reason for someone to live rather than to die.
“And Gon,” Ikalgo continues. “My take on it all… back then, I think the thing that was hardest on him, when you were both in that forest with Pitou… he wanted to be something you would have chosen to live for, too.”
The weight of Gon’s actual choice hangs between them, heavy and unspoken. It’s something he can never take back, and in that moment when he was so overcome with grief and guilt and rage about Kite, he couldn’t have thought of anything else. He’d been drowning in a darkness so deep that even Killua couldn’t pull him out of, ready to throw everything away for good.
It had seemed like the only path at the time, even if with hindsight he wishes he’d seen it differently.
“My dad said that in apologising to a friend, the most important thing to do is to promise to do things differently next time,” Gon says. “If I get the chance with Killua, that’s what I’m gonna do.”
Ikalgo meets his eyes, seeming to search them as if trying to measure his resolve, and nods briefly.
They head back to the house in a not entirely comfortable, but not entirely awkward, silence, the thought of Killua continuing to weigh heavily on both of their minds.
“Is it true, Palm?” he asks quietly, as they stand together to watch the retreating figure of Ikalgo towards the marina for the sunrise ferry. “Did I hurt Killua so bad back then that he nearly had a breakdown?”
He’s watching her face carefully from the side, and so he doesn’t miss the grimace that twists her lips even though she tries to suppress it instantly.
And he knows immediately that Ikalgo was telling the truth, and that Palm had never been totally forthcoming about the battle between her and Killua when she’d first emerged as a Chimera Ant hybrid.
“I’m sorry, Gon,” she says. “It’s probably best you know now, but back then I was trying to protect you. For what it’s worth, his show of raw emotion in that moment, his vulnerability and pain… that was what shattered through the Ant’s control of me, I probably wouldn’t be here like this if he hadn’t been so…”
She hesitates, but they both fill in the missing word silently.
Broken.
“Right,” Gon says numbly. “I guess it’s better I know.”
His chest is feeling tight again, but it’s for a very different reason than the last months, and he’s wondering if Ikalgo is right about what might be ultimately best for Killua.
Notes:
I'm sorry!!! I know this chapter is pretty depressing, and even I feel bad for Gon despite writing him into this corner haha. But I think it's also important he really acknowledges his past choices, and that he understands that it's not easy to make up for things you've done when you've really hurt someone. Hopefully Ikalgo is okay here! I know it's a little divergent from his normal enthusiastic emotive self, but I thought it kind of made sense here for him to be more mellow and cold, because he sees Gon as someone capable of really hurting someone he cares about a lot, and it's been several months now of Killua being on the run (when Ikalgo would probably prefer to be hanging out with his new friend!). And it follows that he'd totally be jealous of Gon and how much Killua cares about him, I think!
Really appreciate everyone who's commented, left kudos or bookmarked, as well as everyone reading along - thank you!! <3
Chapter 9
Notes:
Ahhh this chapter is quite long, and apologies in advance that we didn't quite make it to the possible future phone call yet! I was a bit stuck on this one for a bit because originally I didn't have too many more interactions with the Hunters while they were on Whale Island, but that felt like some important things were missing so I had to fill that in, and I think it's better for it. But it made the chapter a lot longer than it was, and also delayed getting to "WILL THE PHONE CALL HAPPEN?!", sorry about that, but stick with me, it's imminent :) The song at the start of this fic is so oldddddd now but it felt like it really suited the tone of a lot of this chapter so I recommend giving it a listen!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You've got to get better,
Said, it's all in your head,
We could live through these letters
Or forget it altogether,
See, the months, they don't matter
It's the days I can't take
When the hours move to minutes
And I'm seconds away
“New American Classic” - Taking Back Sunday
The next couple of days pass relatively quickly, although Gon’s melancholic mood doesn’t go unnoticed by the remaining Hunters.
“Let’s spar!” Knuckle challenges him the morning after his conversation with Ikalgo, forcing his gaze away from swirling his scrambled eggs around the plate. “No Nen, I’ll still take ya!”
Gon can’t help but grin.
“Okay!”
It’s been literally months since he’s had anyone to train with, and he’s keen to get his muscles going again and see whether his training in the forest has served him well.
They head outside the house, with Aunt Mito warning them to stay away from the laundry drying on the line. Shoot, Morel and Palm join on the side to watch.
The first thing he notices, as he largely plays a dodging game to avoid Knuckle’s punches, is that he’s slow. He’s barely keeping ahead and feels Knuckle brush way too close too often, even though his speed used to be one of his key advantages against the more solid Knuckle, who’s always preferred combat at close quarters.
The second thing is that he’s getting tired quicker. It’s not surprising, given that his island training hasn’t been anywhere near the level of intensity he used to train with Killua, but it’s still disappointing to recognise that his stamina has decreased considerably. It seems that, despite his attempts at training, he’s still rapidly falling behind the level of his friends.
The final thing he realises, as he continues to dodge as a defence, is that this is the first time he’s been in anything even slightly resembling a fight since Pitou, and he’s struggling to bring himself to go on the offensive.
In fact, he’s kind of scared to, it turns out.
“You ever gonna try and hit back?” Knuckle grunts as he swings, apparently frustrated from the few minutes Gon has spent avoiding him.
“Just proving you still can’t catch me,” Gon calls with a forced smirk, tumbling out of the way again. At least his agility is still good enough, even if he’s slower.
He tries to prepare himself for launching an attack, but as he clenches his fists, he’s taken back to a dark miserable night in a forest, the stench of blood and burning hanging in the air, and a voice screaming for him to stop.
Gon! Gon!!!
He falters, creating the first real opportunity for Knuckle because he’d half-switched from defence to offence.
Knuckle responds by swinging from the left, causing Gon to sidestep right, but then Knuckle immediately shifts position from the feint and Gon can only throw his forearms up in front of him, using them to take the brunt of the hit. Before, he would have been able to use Nen to defensively absorb most of the attack power, but this time it’s just his arms and he’s sent flying back across the grass, landing on his back and staring at the sky, slightly dazed.
“Shit!” Knuckle yells. “Are you alright, Gon?”
He sits up, glancing at his arms which are already red and likely to bruise, a little bemused by the somewhat unfamiliar feeling of acute pain.
“I’m fine,” he says, getting to his feet. “I guess I’m a little rusty, huh?”
He scratches the back of his head sheepishly, hoping no one noticed the real reason he let his guard down so badly.
Judging by the concerned looks on everyone’s faces, though, it seems like that hope may be misplaced.
“Maybe it’s a good time for Morel to do the Association assessment,” Palm suggests. He has a feeling that might be the end of anyone offering to spar with him during their visit, and resolves to increase the intensity of his training so that he can try to make up the headway he’s lost.
Morel groans in response to Palm, having already complained multiple times about needless administrative bureaucracy, but as the most senior Hunter present, he’s obliged to do the interview with Gon.
“I guess we can get it out of the way,” he says with a resigned shrug. “How about we do this somewhere with a nice view?”
After Shoot has fetched the paperwork, Gon leads Morel to the cliff where he and Killua had stood for the sweeping view of the beach below.
Morel nods his approval.
“This’ll do nicely,” he says, taking a seat on the sandy ground and crossing his legs. Gon mimics him, sitting before him somewhat uncertainly. He doesn’t really know what to expect from this, or whether it’s the kind of test he’s capable of failing.
And if he does fail, what happens?
“Calm down, Gon,” Morel laughs. “This is just ticking boxes.”
“Right,” Gon says, a little nervously despite himself.
“It’s a bunch of questions, and then I give a final judgement of whether you are doing okay, or whether any Association intervention is needed, and we’re done. I already know the answer, but I promised the Zodiacs we’d do this anyway.”
Gon nods, and Morel pulls the folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, and a pen Grammy Abe lent him.
“Alright,” he says, scanning over it. “This is just demographic information, which Palm already filled in. Hmm… the first question is, what is the current state of your abilities as a Hunter?”
Gon makes a face.
“Can you still be a Hunter with no Nen?” he dares to ask, a question he hasn’t yet managed to check with Bisky.
Morel hums thoughtfully.
“It is certainly somewhat unique, but I doubt it is unprecedented,” he says. “Maybe let’s just put ‘unchanged’ for that question and leave the details to the reader’s imagination.”
He scribbles on the page, then checks the next question.
“Status of your health following the most recent mission on behalf of the association,” he reads out, his mouth downturning a little as he looks to Gon.
“I’m good,” Gon says. “Totally healthy, thanks to Killua.”
Morel starts to write, then pauses.
“How about mentally?” he prompts.
Gon thinks of his nightmares, his feelings of guilt and regret about Killua, and the way he froze during the sparring with Knuckle today.
“Also fine,” he lies.
Morel’s eyes narrow, and he looks like he’s going to say something, but then scribbles a note down anyway.
“Willingness to assist with future Hunter Association missions if called upon?”
“Any time,” Gon says immediately. “If I can be useful, I guess.”
“Be careful what you commit to,” Morel warns. “They churn through non-discerning Hunters, don’t just say yes to anything. I’ll put down that you’re willing to consider suitable missions.”
“Right, okay,” Gon accepts. He still thinks it’s unlikely they’ll ever ask him, and the thought of being needed is more appealing than it probably should be.
“Would you do anything to harm the Association?”
“No, of course not!” Gon exclaims, causing Morel to smirk a little.
“That’s quite an emphatic response,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “You like the Association that much?”
“Well, it’s just… the world of Hunters is so amazing,” Gon confesses. “I knew it must be, for Ging to leave everything behind for it, but it really is this other world, so far beyond everything I used to think was normal. I really loved being a part of it.”
“You are still part of it,” Morel reminds him gently.
“I guess,” Gon says glumly. “Not in the same way, though.”
They continue through the rest of the questions, and it doesn’t take very long until they are at the end, to Morel’s apparent great relief.
“I think they made this shorter,” he says cheerfully. “One smart move, for once.”
He folds it back up and hands Gon the pen to return to his grandma, then gets up.
“This is a good spot,” he says, looking around appreciatively. “I see why you would want to bring Killua here and show it off.”
“Huh?” Gon asks, wondering how Morel knew.
“Your posts in response to his postcards?” Morel says.
“Oh, right!”
He forgot that his Hunter friends knew he’d been “writing back” to Killua via his social media profile.
“I’m confident Ikalgo will succeed in setting up the link with Killua,” Morel says. “You’ll be in direct contact with him in no time.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he will too,” Gon says.
He doesn’t admit that he’s more worried Ikalgo won’t be able to convince Killua to speak to him.
“One more thing, Gon,” Morel adds, taking in one last view of the beach below. “There are resources available, if you ever need to talk to someone. Health is more than just your physicality, I know you know this. Knov already confirmed they’d spare any resource necessary if you need it, given what you did for us against the Chimera Ants. Keep that in mind, okay?”
“I will,” Gon says sincerely. He already knows the person he wants to talk to, though. It feels like there’s only one person in the world who can help him feel better, but it’s also the person his actions hurt most of all.
In the afternoon, they’re all down at the marina helping Aunt Mito pick up groceries and supplies for dinner, when the Hunters are suddenly surrounded by curious Whale island locals asking them questions about what it’s like to be a Hunter, the kinds of missions they’ve been on, the types of Hunter classes, whether there are other young Hunters like Gon and his father. Palm and Knuckle do most of the talking, but all four of them are obliging in answering the many questions.
Gon wonders why they never thought to ask him, but suspects it is the same reason people were too wary to ask him why he had returned to the island.
Noko is walking past with her mother, and comes over curiously to say hi while her mother continues to the market. They haven’t really spoken since New Year’s, but he finds the awkwardness of that interaction has mostly faded away, and so introduces her to everyone.
“This is Noko, we grew up together on the island,” he says brightly. Noko waves shyly from her position next to him.
“Ah, young love!” Knuckle grins widely, clapping his hands together, and Shoot rolls his eyes at his outburst.
“No, it’s not like that!” Gon protests, as Noko’s cheeks flush.
”Yeah, we’re just friends,” Noko adds quickly. “Gon told me about the girl he met on his Hunter travels.”
Four sets of eyes fix on Gon at once, and he suddenly feels far more under interrogation than he did during the questioning with Morel.
“Which girl?” Knuckle asks in confusion. Noko blinks at him.
“The one who gave him the bracelet? The one Gon’s in love with?”
Knuckle’s gaze falls to the bracelet on Gon’s wrist, but he never directly told any of the Hunters about the Christmas present from Killua. The only person that knows who it’s from is Aunt Mito, because she guessed even without him saying anything. They’d know if they had looked at his posts though, and he sees the look of recognition pass across Morel’s face.
“Of course,” Palm fills the silence. “Yes, we’re aware.”
“We are?” Knuckle says dumbly, and Shoot smacks him lightly over the head.
“We really should go, nice to see you, Noko, everyone,” Gon says abruptly, and leads the Hunters away to rejoin his aunt, despite protests from the lingering islanders.
“I’m not in love with Killua,” he insists as they walk up the hill towards home. “Noko just got confused because I said there was someone that meant a lot to me.”
He notices the small smile on Aunt Mito’s face (despite the fact that she’s mostly pretending not to be listening), and chooses to ignore it.
When the visiting Hunters depart, Palm stays on as she is the main link to Ikalgo while they wait for news on Killua, and from what Gon understands, she’ll be handling their end of the communication link.
“You might find some answers in meditation,” Morel tells him cryptically, as he turns to leave. “I know you and Killua cheated once, the road will not be so easy this time, but all is not as lost as you might think.”
Gon isn’t sure what he means, but promises to try. He hasn’t really meditated much since the promise with Wing almost two years ago, but he trusts Morel’s judgement, and a flutter of excitement stirs in his stomach at the thought of something new developing.
“Stay cool, Gon,” Knuckle says with a fist bump. “We’re all rooting for you.”
Shoot says nothing out loud, but says everything with his eyes, and Gon smiles back at him, nodding.
Then they’re gone, again, but he doesn’t feel quite so alone because Palm is still around. The anxiety as they wait to hear from Ikalgo grows though, alongside his worry that after everything, maybe Killua will genuinely want nothing to do with him.
Postcards are one thing, but direct contact is something else entirely. It’s been months, but it feels longer, and he’s struggling to recall the details of how Killua’s voice sounds.
“Are you okay, Gon?” Mito asks him carefully as he helps her hang the bedsheets outside. Of course she has noticed his deepening melancholy, he isn’t surprised about that, but he doesn’t know how to answer her.
She knows when he’s lying.
“Just worried about Killua,” he says truthfully, omitting the reasons for the worry.
“Oh, honey,” she says, letting go of the sheet and pulling him close for a tight hug. “I’m sure he’s doing okay, he’s such a smart and mature kid. And taking care of his sister like that, I can’t even begin to imagine - but I got the sense when he was here that he was capable of handling anything.”
She’s right, of course. Killua has always been so strong and resilient. He’s reminded of the time back in Heavens Arena, when Killua first realised he could use electricity to his advantage.
“When I say it doesn't hurt me, that means I can bear it.”
Even then, he’d hated what Killua really meant when he said it.
He hurt just as much as anyone else, but he was better at tolerating it. His family had seen to that, and it still made Gon feel sick when he thought about how it must have been for Killua growing up in that kind of environment.
Maybe the best thing he’d ever done for Killua was to support him in gaining the courage to walk away from the Zoldycks, for good.
Maybe, in the end, that would be enough.
“I just… I miss him,” Gon says, pulling back from his aunt. “I don’t think it’ll ever be like it was again.”
Aunt Mito flicks him lightly on the ear.
“And why would you want that, Gon?” she challenges. “If things were always the same, you’d never be changing, evolving, learning. It’s a mistake to think the past is some perfect preserved sanctuary that’s better than what you have now.”
She’s always been so wise, and he wonders if part of it was how she was forced to grow up so soon in order to take care of him when he was a baby.
“And you know, kiddo,” she adds, brushing her hand gently through his hair. “There’s a chance the future could be even better than the past, isn’t there?”
He beams at her, his heart warming despite itself at the distant possibility that she might be right.
“Right! Thanks, Aunt Mito.”
He adds meditation to his afternoon exercise regime, spending at least half an hour each day sitting on the highest point of the island and just being. He’s not exactly sure why he’s doing it or what exactly Morel meant, but he uses the time to try and clear his mind and just focus on the world around him - the sounds, smells, feelings.
He tries so hard to detach from his thoughts, but there’s one thing - one person - that always creeps into his mind even when he thinks he’s able to focus on the meditation.
Every time.
“Maybe that’s something you need to meditate on,” Morel shrugs at the phone camera, his eyebrow slightly raised at Gon’s cagey complaint about being distracted.
“Sometimes the path forward lies in unravelling the past first.”
It’s been four days since Ikalgo left, and two days since the rest of the Hunters followed suit. Palm mostly busies herself helping Mito where she can in return for her hospitality, and otherwise goes down to the beach, sometimes swimming and sometimes just watching the waves. Gon’s noticed she doesn’t like being at the fish market too much, and he can guess why.
He wonders sometimes how much of her is Chimera Ant now, but he’s a bit too scared to ask directly. There’s still a lot of Palm there, of course… but there are times she seems like a different person entirely.
He tries to apologise one day, as they sit on the hill watching the sunset.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she rolls her eyes. “I was a grown adult who knew exactly what she signed up for, and I knew it might be a one-way mission. It’s a miracle I’m still here at all, and there’s no fault of yours in any of what happened. Save your apologies for where they matter, Gon.”
Save your apologies for Killua.
She doesn’t say it, but he knows she’s thinking it.
“Don’t worry about Ikalgo,” she says instead, watching him thoughtfully. “He’ll be taking a careful route to Killua, so it might take a little while.”
She pauses, covers her eye briefly. Several seconds pass while she studies what she sees.
“They’re also doing fine,” she says at last. “And they’re still in Swardani. He’ll catch up with them soon enough.”
Gon nods, hugging his knees to his chest. There’s something in the way Palm speaks that makes him think there’s more she’s not telling him, but he figures she must have a good reason for that and doesn’t ask.
In a way, it’s easy to wait because it’s just a limbo state, and he’s often able to put off thinking about what he wants to say to Killua, if Ikalgo can convince him to be on the call, because it seems a faraway and distant event. Whenever he tries to think about the right words, it suddenly feels like there’s too much to say, so much on top of the last six months of abbreviated postcards and vaguely-captioned photos.
He has no idea how to approach it, and the dread grows within him.
But he has to get this right - that’s all he can think of, and it’s even more disruptive to his attempts to meditate.
“You can’t clear your mind if you don’t understand what’s clouding it,” Palm says nonchalantly when he asks her for advice.
So he dedicates the next session entirely to the thing clouding it. He pictures Killua, the way he was the day they parted at the World Tree over six months ago. His broad smile, the way it made his eyes crinkle a bit, the warmth in his expression as he looked at Alluka, his firm grip on her hand the whole journey as if to reassure himself she was still there.
But then he finds himself dwelling on the other details, the ones he deliberately glossed over at the time.
The pale gauntness of Killua’s skin, the dark shadows under his eyes from days without sleep, the hesitance in his eyes whenever he glanced in Gon’s direction. The deliberately-forced distance between them, so different to when they’d been travelling and had been constantly in each other’s space, whether it was the physical proximity of training or sharing warmth when sleeping.
The way his expression fell ever so slightly in that alley as their eyes met, even despite all his practiced years of masked emotions.
The strained way he grinned when Gon told him Kite’s statement that they’d be teammates forever. He didn’t really understand it, even now, but it seemed that had not been the right thing to say. Somehow, even in trying to reassure him, he’d managed to make things worse again.
All of this he had subconsciously noticed at the time, but ignored it, still too selfish to think of anything but Ging and too scared to face what had happened between them head-on.
He brings the vision of the last time he saw Killua’s face to his mind, before they both turned away and he forced himself to never look back because he knew he’d not be able to keep walking away. It’s suddenly so clear in his mind, every detail of his friend’s face, the way his hair framed his face, the lightness of his eyes, the sunlight on his skin. He feels like he could almost touch Killua, he’s right there in front of him.
Then there’s a loud crack in the forest in the distance, likely one of the other fox bears rustling past, and the image dissolves.
He opens his eyes to find his cheeks wet with tears, his heart panging more than ever.
But strangely, he also feels lighter in some indescribable way… like something has slightly changed within him. Like maybe he’s better off having openly acknowledged the things about that day he’d kept buried from guilt, refusing to truly see the impact he’d had on his friend at the time.
He really hopes he’s going to get a chance to make it up to Killua properly, but he still has very little idea where to even start.
Notes:
Well I've made up more things about the Association in this chapter, but hopefully they are convincing enough! I know there's wasn't much Shoot in all this, but he always struck me as more of the quiet type anyway, so I kind of feel like maybe he'd take a back seat when there are louder and more extroverted people around. With so many words piling up, I am bound to be making typos or logic errors, so please do let me know if you spot any! Thanks again so much for everyone who's following this, and for those leaving kudos and comments and bookmarking, helps so much with getting each chapter out <3
Chapter 10
Notes:
Another longish chapter, but I think most future ones will be a bit shorter. Still haven't quite figured out how many chapters to go, really want to be able to update that ? number of chapters but still writing as I'm going XD It's a fair number, at least several it would seem. Anyway, finally we have arrived at the phone call chapter! Hope you enjoy :) My continuing thanks and gratitude to everyone following this fic for the motivation to keep the ball rolling <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The meditation comes easier to him now that Gon accepts the distraction of Killua surfacing in his mind, instead of trying to push it away, and it feels like he’s working through something deep inside him each time he does it. He’s not exactly sure what it is or what he’s meant to feel, but it at least seems like some kind of progress and he suspects this is what Morel intended for him.
He also ups the intensity of his physical training, grateful that he has had the chance to recalibrate against the level that his Hunter friends are at. He doesn’t have any way to simulate fight scenarios, so he decides dealing with that particular issue is a problem for once he’s gotten his body back into a better physical condition.
He’s coming back from one of his sessions when he spots Palm waiting expectantly at the path to his house, looking slightly anxious.
He knows immediately that there’s word from Ikalgo, and his stomach turns slightly.
“Tonight, at 9pm,” she says. “We’ll do it from your room, being as high as possible is better for the reception.”
He doesn’t know a whole lot about the communication link they use, only that it somehow also taps into the Chimera Ant link between Palm and Ikalgo, and that helps with the security compared to the other channels available. He’s pretty confident Illumi hasn’t been able to become part Chimera Ant over the last several months, so this reassures him a little in terms of the safety of what they are doing.
The next few hours pass in a drawn-out blur. He can barely eat anything, despite Aunt Mito’s chastising, and just pushes the food around the plate mindlessly as he thinks about the conversation to come. He’s still not figured out where to start or what to say, or how to capture everything he wants to communicate to Killua into a single conversation.
The waiting game quickly gets the better of him, and he can’t think of anything else except the pending call.
“I understand why you’re nervous, but you’re still being absurd,” Palm scolds him as they wash up. “This is Killua, remember? Not a torturous exam, or a fight to the death.”
“I know, but…” he shrugs helplessly. “It’s been so long. I don’t want to mess this up.”
No more than I already did, anyway.
By the time there’s thirty minutes to go, he’s fidgeting so much that she suggests they go upstairs to wait for the call there.
“Say hi to that nice boy for us,” Grammy Abe says with a toothy smile, reclining in her favourite armchair. “And tell him he should come back to visit, and bring his sister, too.”
I wish they could, Gon thinks wistfully.
Aunt Mito grips him in a quick, tight hug on the way out of the living room, while Palm says goodnight to his family and continues up towards his room.
“Good luck, Gon,” she murmurs. “You guys will be fine, I know it.”
He squeezes her in return, then follows Palm upstairs. She’s already sitting on his bed, looking around the room with a slightly curious expression.
“Oh right, you haven’t really been in here properly, huh,” he realises. She’s been at the doorway to get him to come down for dinner, but they haven’t been in the room together.
“I kind of expected it to be less orderly, honestly,” she says mildly.
“Oh, that’s really thanks to Aunt Mito,” he says sheepishly. “She makes me keep it clean. But growing up in this way has made me value tidiness! I’m pretty good in general, I think. Killua was always the messy one…”
He trails off, wondering what it’s like for the two Zoldyck siblings travelling, and whether Alluka has had to do a lot of work to keep things tidy in the face of Killua’s chaos, or whether she’s possibly even worse.
Palm’s expression softens as she watches him.
“Not long to go,” she affirms, and he nods, flopping down on his rug and staring at the ceiling.
He concentrates on his breathing, the same way he does when he’s meditating, and tries to dispel the impatient anxiety filling his body. He’s excited and terrified all at once, and it’s the strangest feeling because he’s not often scared of things.
He closes his eyes, still concentrating on his breathing, and calls forth Killua’s face to his mind.
I promise I’ll make it right somehow.
He vows this in his mind, never wanting to be the cause of the sadness in Killua’s eyes again.
The minutes pass until suddenly the communication device is ringing, and Palm picks it up, channelling Nen into it until it’s glowing blue, then she presses the button on the side. He sits up on the rug, legs crossed as he waits as patiently as he can manage.
“Hi Ikalgo,” she says. “Yes, understood. He’s right here. I’ll pass it over now.”
And then the device is being held out to him, and he just stares at it, frozen.
“Gon?” she prompts, wiggling it, and he takes it from her with a shaky hand, holding it up to his ear.
“H-hello?” he says nervously. There’s a pause, a bit of shuffling.
“Hi Gon,” comes Killua’s voice across the distance, and it makes his breath catch in his throat completely unexpectedly.
“Killua,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “It’s… really you?”
“Yeah, dummy, it’s me, who else would it be?”
He laughs a little at how familiar Killua’s sardonic reply is. And he wonders how his memory of Killua’s voice could have ever faded, now that it’s so clear in his ears.
“It’s just been so long. I wasn’t sure you’d… How are you? How’s Alluka? Is everything okay?”
He doesn’t want to finish the line of thought, so instead the nervous questions fall out of his mouth.
“We’re fine, doing well,” Killua says, a laugh in his voice. “Alluka is waving at me from the other side of the room, so I think she wants me to say hi to you.”
“Say hi back to her! And Nanika!”
He hears a faint “Gon says hi” in the background.
“Yep, done,” Killua says. “So how’s Whale Island? You’re back at school, right?”
“Yeah I am, it’s kind of lame,” Gon admits. “It feels so disconnected from the real world. After everything…”
He trails off, not really wanting to go there either.
“Anyway… it’s okay, I guess. It’s nice being home with Aunt Mito and Grammy Abe. Your postcards have been a highlight, I’m always so excited to get them, oh and the bracelet is the coolest thing, I never take it off! I’ve been training whenever I can to get stronger even without Nen, and Morel told me to meditate, so I’ve been doing that as well.”
He leaves out the part where his meditations tend to sometimes focus on Killua.
“He told you to meditate, hmm,” Killua muses, and Gon can almost hear the cogs turning in his brain even without being able to see his face. But if he’s thinking anything specific, he chooses not to share it with Gon, and instead a thick silence hangs between them.
So Gon opts to fill it.
“Where have you guys been travelling recently? There hasn’t been a postcard for a while…”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Killua says. “We’ve been on the move a lot lately, haven’t been able to stay in one place for long. Illumi hired a bunch of contract assassins to track us down, and a few got a little close. They’re not that good, skills wise, but there were just… a lot.”
A knot twists in Gon’s stomach.
“Are you okay?”
There’s a slight pause, and he hears Killua shift, followed by an unmistakable wince.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Killua says dismissively. Gon’s pretty sure he’s lying and the worry within him grows.
“How come you’re in Swardani City?” he presses.
Killua’s reply again takes just a little too long.
“We’ve been out in nature for a while, Alluka missed the city style of living,” he says eventually. “And she’d never been here. Plus it’s a big city which gives a lot of cover, and it’s harder for the assassins to sneak up on us in built-up areas.”
“Are you going to see Leorio?”
This time, the pause is extra long.
“Um… well actually… we’re with him right now. At his apartment. He… says hi, also.”
“You’re with Leorio?”
This revelation goes against everything Gon knows about Killua. He’d never take such a risk of going directly to someone so closely connected to him, because it was far too obvious a place to be tracked down. Especially if there were assassins close behind them. It put the siblings, as well as Leorio himself, in great danger.
The only reason he’d take that risk was if he felt like he had no other choice.
“Killua, are you hurt? Is Alluka okay?”
He hears Killua sigh.
“Alluka’s fine. And I’m okay, really. But I got a bit cut up in a fight with some of the assassins, and we needed someone we could trust to stitch me up. I didn’t want to rely on Nanika’s power, it’s not fair to her to use her like that… So you know, the old man was the best we could do.”
He can almost see the smirk on Killua’s face, and he can hear the muffled exclamation from Leorio in the background.
His visions of Killua and Alluka covertly seeing the world with the distant threat of Illumi on their trail are shattered, and now all he can see are the many ways Illumi is going to hurt Killua when he finally catches up to them.
The ways in which Killua is already hurt, again.
There are so many things he wants to say about this, but instead he says probably the worst thing.
“Why would you lie to me about being hurt?”
Against his better judgement, he’s thinking about the other times Killua has lied to him, and concerned about how much more he might be hiding about the danger they’re in.
“I don’t want you to worry, Gon. I’ve been a lot worse.”
“Yeah, that time, too! Why didn’t you tell me you nearly died?!”
He knows he shouldn’t, knows this is the wrong conversation to be having right now, but he can’t stop the words coming out, despite Palm’s wide eyes and gestures to slow down.
There’s a long, heavy pause, but he knows Killua is still there because he can hear him trying to control his breathing.
At last, his voice comes across the line, flat and emotionless.
“Would it have changed anything?”
Gon’s eyes sting with tears. He wants to immediately claim it would have, wants to deny what Killua is implying. Wants to believe that his past self would have recognised the pain Killua had been in, and done something about it.
But he knows that Killua is right in doubting him. He knows there’s a high chance that he wouldn’t have cared at all, and that it would have changed nothing.
“I want to believe it would have,” he says quietly.
He hears Killua breathe out slowly, as if he’s still fighting to keep his breathing steady.
”Gon, why did you want to talk to me so badly? Ikalgo said it was really important.”
Suddenly, it feels really dumb and childish to just tell Killua he missed him, that the postcards made him feel so far away, and that all he wanted to do was be near him again like they used to be. That there’s this constant void within him ever since they parted, an aching feeling that he knows now has nothing to do with his missing Nen or the Hunter world, and everything to do with his best friend. Even just being able to talk sometimes would be nice if it was safe to, but he now feels like he’s wasting time that Killua doesn’t really have.
“I… I was worried about you.”
“Well, don’t be, we’re fine. I promised Alluka I’d protect her forever and that’s what I’m gonna do. It doesn’t matter what Illumi sends after us or how many assassins, or even if he comes himself, I’ll… I’ll kill him if I have to. So you don’t need to worry about us.”
Gon wonders if Killua realises how his words are having the exact opposite effect.
“I want to help, somehow,” he finds himself saying.
“Well, you can’t,” Killua replies tersely. “Look, I know you mean well, but there’s nothing you can do, especially without Nen.”
He feels like Killua knows exactly what he’s doing when he brings up the loss of Gon’s Nen. And he feels like he’s losing his friend all over again, like the distance between them is growing exponentially.
“Killua, what are we?” he asks softly. “What am I to you?”
“Eh? What do you mean by that?”
Killua sounds completely thrown by his question, the way he always was whenever Gon said something that involved emotions in some way. In a different context, he might have laughed at Killua’s predictable reaction, but this time it just makes him feel sad.
“We were so close, back then. I thought we’d be together forever. But now… I know you have to protect Alluka, I get it. And maybe there’s nothing I can do to help right now. But I feel like there’s an infinite space between us, and every postcard makes me feel closer to you in some small way, like we’re still connected by a thread, but also makes me feel far away and alone…I just… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what you want. I know I messed up, badly… what does it mean for us now? What do you want from me?”
“Do you want me to stop sending you postcards?” Killua asks in a stilted voice.
“No, of course not! But I feel like we need to talk about what-”
“We really don’t.”
Killua’s voice is hard, even though there’s the slightest hint of a tremor in it.
He’s losing him, they're running out of time, and he panics, wanting more than anything to close the gap again, to find some way to deal with their past and their issues, and move beyond them.
“Killua, about Pitou, that night in the forest, and what I said-”
“Gon, stop, please... I- I can’t do this, not now, I’m sorry.”
He hears shuddering breaths at the other end of the call.
“But Killua-”
“We’ll be okay. I promise.”
The line clicks, and he realises Killua has ended the connection, and his heart sinks within his chest.
What have I done?
He feels his eyes welling up, against his will, as he clenches his fists at his sides. He’d been so desperate to try to make things better with Killua, to get to the heart of the divide between them, even though he should have recognised it was too soon and too much. But who knew when they’d be able to speak again?
Or if Killua would ever want to?
He sucks in a breath, trying to stop the emotions overwhelming him.
“Oh, Gon,” Palm says, kneeling down to put her arms around his shaking body. “I’m sorry.”
He can’t help it, his attempt to keep the facade up cracks entirely, and he sobs into Palm’s shoulder.
“I’ve ruined it,” he chokes out. “I thought if we could just speak about it… maybe we could sort something out, maybe we could see some way past what happened, some way for me to make it up to him.”
He buries his face, and her arms are tight around him.
“I promised Ikalgo I didn’t want to hurt Killua, but it’s all I seem to do,” he cries against her. “I just… I wanted to tell him I miss him, and figure out how I can make it up to him, but it came out all wrong!”
“It’s not an easy history to deal with,” she says softly. “It’s going to take time… maybe a lot of it. It doesn’t sound like Killua is ready to go there yet. I think you need to try to be patient with him.”
Gon pulls back and looks at her tearfully.
“What if he’s never ready? What if… what if we never ever get a chance to work through it? What if Illumi…”
His chest heaves as the panic fills him.
“I can’t do nothing, Palm… there must be something I can do to help?”
She looks at him with sorrowful eyes.
“I don’t know, Gon. It’s probably best for you to stay here, in your current state. If we can think of anything for you to do that might help, I’ll let you know immediately. Now that we know more about Killua and Alluka’s situation, and Illumi’s current actions, that might help us think of ways to possibly assist them via the Association.”
She gets to her feet, a regretful expression on her face.
“Speaking of, I’m really sorry about this, but I’ll need to head back to the headquarters tomorrow.”
“Right, yeah,” he says morosely. “That makes sense.”
There’s nothing keeping her at Whale Island now that the call with Killua has happened, and she’d already stayed longer than the original plan. He’s being childish, he knows, but he can’t help but be sulky about being left alone on the island again, disconnected once more from the world of the Hunters.
His glumness about this is plenty obvious to Palm.
”Cheer up,” she says with a light laugh. “Enjoy the brief time away from everything - I know you, and I know this won’t last forever.”
She heads to the door, then pauses.
“One more thing… would it be okay with you to add you to my Wink Blue ability? It won’t interfere with being able to track Killua, but would make me feel a little more comfortable about you being here without your Nen. I promise I’ll only use it if there’s anything to be concerned about.”
Gon thinks about it briefly, then nods. He hates that he’s so defenceless now that people feel compelled to worry about him in this way, but then he can’t really argue with the logic.
“Sure, Palm. That’s fine with me, thanks for watching out for me.”
She gives him a small smile, then covers her left eye briefly as she looks at him. He wonders who she was able to watch before, that the view of him has now displaced.
“And Gon,” she adds afterwards. “I don’t think you should worry about Killua, he’s a lot tougher than most. If he says they’ll be fine, he means it. I can’t think of anything or anyone strong enough to defeat him. Not even his brother.”
“Thanks, Palm,” Gon nods, forcing a weak smile.
She’s probably right. He really hopes so.
But he knows Killua.
He knows that he’s one of the most stubborn people in the world, and that he’s never been one to ask for help because he grew up without the luxury of that option. Even with Nanika’s powers available to him, he’d never want to rely on exploiting them because that would make him too much like his family. Gon highly suspects Alluka was the one to force his hand in going to Leorio, and Killua wouldn’t have given in unless his wounds were serious, because he wouldn’t have wanted to put anyone else at risk.
So even if it’s too much for him, even if Illumi is closing in and Killua can’t stay ahead while also protecting Alluka… he’s never going to admit defeat, and he’s likely to instead do something reckless that puts himself in danger.
And Gon’s afraid of what terrible cost Killua might ultimately choose to pay in order to “win” against Illumi.
Notes:
Erm, I'm sorry!! T_T I promise it's not all sadness and angst from here on, but there's definitely going to be some of that. I think for all of Gon's good intentions and wanting to be better, he's still also just a bit too keen to try and "move on" without really appreciating the full depth of what Killua might be feeling. It never felt like they'd be able to sort much out with one phone call, but I apologise for how absolutely terribly that went. But hey, at least we got to have Killua make a proper appearance, finally, right? :D Plus you know, character development, and such... I kind of miss the simpler chapters of wistful postcards, but we go where the story takes us ^^
Chapter 11
Notes:
Sooooo this is the first chapter that diverges from Gon's POV. I wondered if I could do the whole fic without switching perspective, but ehhhh not so much ^^; We're also going quite a way from Gon and the island with this one, but there's a good reason for that, as you'll hopefully agree :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cheadle stares at Beans in disbelief.
“You want me to what?”
He shrinks a little.
“You need to meet with a Hunter, conduct an assessment of his risk level.”
She continues to stare at him, hoping her face conveys her displeasure. From the way he is grimacing, she thinks she is succeeding.
“You realise the foundations we all rely on are literally crumbling beneath us, and that we’re approaching the brink of an existential demolition of humanity, again?”
“I understand, but this is a request from the newest member of the Zodiacs, and he said you’d recognise the importance.”
“Why me?” she demands in disbelief. Surely they have people for this, or at least another Zodiac could step in.
“Leorio specifically asked for you. Given the status of the Hunter and the possible determination that he’s a threat to the Association, it needs to be a non-conflicted Zodiac, and he said you owed him one.”
Her eyes narrow at the new Boar already pushing the limits of her patience.
“Who is it?”
“Killua Zoldyck.”
The name rings a bell, for two reasons. He was one of the handful of persistent absentee ballots during the Election, which immediately does not endear her to him. But secondly, he was one of the Hunters responsible for the defeat of the Chimera Ants.
Which means he is someone that Netero trusted enough to bring into such a battle, and further, he’d survived.
“This is the Zoldyck bounty kid?”
“Yes, Chairwoman Yorkshire.”
She sighs, pinching her nose in frustration.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
She gives Beans a withering glare, and he just gestures meekly at the main conference room.
“What am I trying to determine here, Beans? Didn’t we assign some Hunters to check in on him and assess the status?”
“Yes, and they reported that he and his sister are no threat, but the bounty just went up another 25% today and there have been accusations from senior Hunters that the assessment was compromised by a conflict of interest, since it was carried out by close friends of the Hunter in question. You need to objectively determine whether their assessment was accurate.”
That is probably an issue, she recognises. And the Association has been through so much lately, they really can’t afford to have this become bigger than it needs to when there’s Kakin and Beyond to deal with instead. And she understands exactly why Leorio has asked her to handle it now, because he knows that she knows Killua is a friend, and so she’s likely to be a little more lenient with him compared to the other Zodiacs even if he might technically fail the assessment otherwise.
Because they need Leorio on side right now.
It’s a light form of extortion, she realises with some irritation, and it reminds her way too much of the person who previously occupied the Boar Zodiac position.
“Okay fine, I’ll assess him,” Cheadle relents, accepting the proffered summary report from Beans and skimming over it quickly as they continue walking.
She follows Beans to the door, and steps through when he opens it. He closes it again gently behind her with a grateful nod.
She spots Killua first by his bright white hair, but is struck by his unexpected youth. The kid can’t be much more than twelve years old, and yet when his gaze rises to meet hers, she can tell from his eyes that he’s seen more than most Hunters will in their entire lifetime.
She takes a seat opposite him at the large table, folding her hands in front of her as she takes in his appearance. Even though he’s dressed rather stylishly in faded grey jeans and a black turtleneck shirt, she can see immediately that he’s been in a serious fight recently. There are dark bags under his eyes, scratches and bruises on his face, and a nasty-looking scrape barely peaking above the edge of his turtleneck. She suspects there are more injuries hidden underneath his clothes, especially since he seems to be holding himself rather stiffly on the right side. Though he largely hides it well, he looks exhausted, like someone who has been carrying too big a burden for too long.
The key question, she supposes, is why he’s been targeted like this.
“So,” she begins amiably. “I'm Cheadle. It’s nice to meet you, Killua.”
“I’d say likewise, but I’m only here because Leorio forced me to come. Said I owed him.”
“I know the feeling,” she says wryly, rolling her eyes. “Look, there’s a simple thing we need to do here. There’s a belief that you and your sister pose a threat to the Hunter Association, given your current status. Is this true?”
Killua’s light eyes narrow dangerously.
“It depends on whether you are posing a threat to us.”
She realises with a mild degree of alarm that she can’t sense any aura around him, meaning he’s hiding the extent of his Nen better than most of the Zodiacs can.
“It won’t help your case to be antagonistic.”
“I don’t care what you, or the Association, think,” he replies icily. “All that matters is keeping Alluka safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“My family.”
“Why are your family pursuing the two of you? You know there’s a bounty on your heads for $500 million Jenny right now?”
Killua crosses his arms, seeming to choose his words.
“I’m meant to take over the family business,” he says at last. “Some of the family want to force me to do this, even though I don’t want to.”
Cheadle frowns.
“And your sister?”
He hesitates long enough to make it clear that he’s not telling her the full story.
“They don’t see her as part of the family, and they want to keep her locked away. I saved her from them, but they want to put her back and control her and make sure she can’t be out in the world.”
“That sounds like quite an abuse of power.”
“You have no idea,” Killua shrugs nonchalantly.
She wonders what it is that the boy isn’t telling her. It’s obvious that there is more to it than what he’s said, but regardless, she isn’t getting the vibe that he’s likely to be a threat to anyone other than in self-defence.
Maybe she will have more luck in understanding him if she takes a different approach.
“Why did you support the Hunter team in the fight against the Chimera Ants?” she asks, watching his face carefully.
His eyes widen at first, surprised by the question, then an unmistakable look of sadness passes across his face. It’s almost too quick to catch, but she has spent a long time studying people and their psychology.
Never helped her with Ging and Pariston, of course, but those two sociopaths defy all logic.
“I was helping a friend.”
Cheadle raises an eyebrow.
“You risked your life against a class B threat just to help a friend? That must be some friend.”
“Hah, yeah,” he says, averting his eyes.
She senses a strong unwillingness on his part to talk much more about his friend, and decides to switch back to one of the more standard questions for these kinds of assessments. She has no interest in working through the entire set of questions normally used to assess potentially-rogue Hunters (not least because she has a feeling he would nominally "fail" most of them), and selects one that she thinks will give her a useful insight into Killua’s current thought processes.
“So, if the Hunter Association called upon you to assist in a future time of crisis, would you answer the call?”
“Honestly? Probably not. Sorry.”
“But if your friend asked you to, you might?” she challenges.
He meets her gaze levelly, his expression neutral.
“Not if it would put Alluka in danger. She comes first for me now.”
“What does Alluka think about everything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, does she get a say in your protection of her? Does she feel she needs it?”
Killua scowls.
“When Illumi is involved, she definitely needs it.”
Cheadle knows the name well. Illumi Zoldyck, the eldest of the Zoldyck siblings and renowned in the Hunter world for his ruthless and brutal assassinations. She remembers hearing something about him causing issues at a recent Hunter exam, but can’t remember the details. She suddenly wonders if Killua was involved in the same incident.
Killua’s face becomes tight and drawn at the mention of Illumi, and she can easily sense the fear that clings around him, a dark, painful and heavy fear. He shifts uncomfortably in the chair, leading to a poorly-masked grimace due to aggravating his hidden wounds.
“Your current state is courtesy of your brother?” she inquires.
“Indirectly,” Killua shrugs again, as if trying to downplay Illumi's effect on him. “My brother sent a bunch of assassins after us.”
“Why not come himself?”
“He has other duties to the family, I guess,” Killua says. “So that takes priority over hunting us. Or he’s trying to wear me down, to make it easier for him to control me later.”
Against her better judgement, she’s starting to feel a little bad for this kid in front of her. She can tell that he’s by no means helpless, and would hazard a guess that his raw power is probably comparable even now to many of the Zodiacs. And he’s been raised as part of the Zoldyck family, notorious for their relentless efficacy as assassins. But he’s also a child, trying to protect another child, in a broken world that really should do better in protecting the younger generation. For all his tough talk, she can see the ways that months of being on the run are starting to fray him at the edges.
“Is there anything the Hunter Association can do to help you?” she ends up asking. They do owe a great deal to all of the Hunters who helped defeat the Chimera Ants, after all, and if they took a public stand in support of Killua, that would probably quell the dissenting questions about him. They could ensure some careful communications around it in parallel, to specifically address the concerns raised.
“No,” Killua says flatly. “Do you remember what happened with the Hunters sent to intervene during the election period? That was all Illumi, with some help from Hisoka. Getting involved will just get more people killed.”
She remembers reading the report about that incident, about the horrific bloodshed left in the wake. If she recalled, the report had talked about the greatest and most grotesque damage being caused by Manipulator Nen powers.
She’s never really liked Manipulators. Especially the ones that use their powers to control people against their will, there’s something particularly nasty about those.
Suddenly, Killua’s statement about control makes sense.
“Your brother used his Manipulator powers on you in the past?”
Killua’s eyes widen slightly, as if he didn’t expect her to make the connection, but he nods.
“He has the ability to control people in ways that lead to their death… but he also can insert needles into your brain and control you more subtly,” he states matter-of-factly, as if he’s reading out a dictionary definition rather than talking about something done to him. “It took me a while to figure out what he did, but the needle's gone now.”
God damn this messed-up family.
“I see,” she says out loud.
She thinks back to all the cases she’s seen of Manipulation over the years, some of them particularly gruesome, and of the different ways Hunters have found to counter these abilities.
“There’s something you should know about Manipulator Nen abilities, in that case. At its core, Nen is all about controlling aura, that I’m sure you are aware of. Manipulators use their Nen to control objects or people, but standing in direct opposition to them in the spectrum of Nen users are the Transmuters, who can convert that aura into other forms.”
“I’m a Transmuter,” Killua says thoughtfully.
“Yes, I’m aware. So you may find some answers in considering how you might apply your abilities of Transmutation to protect yourself, and others, against the kind of Manipulation your brother might try.”
“I hadn’t really thought of it that way before,” he muses, looking down at his hands.
She laughs at his apparent embarrassment, as if he feels like he should have known that despite his relatively new experience with Nen.
“You’re still very young, Killua, despite everything you’ve been through. There are probably an endless number of things you have yet to learn about Nen.”
“I guess so.”
It’s fairly obvious at this point that Killua isn’t the one at fault in the current scenario, and that the real concern should be directed, if anywhere, at Illumi Zoldyck and the rest of the Zoldyck family if they are supporting his pursuit of Killua and Alluka.
She still suspects there’s more to the story about his sister that he’s not telling her, but it seems pre-emptive at this point to jump to any wild conclusions about the two siblings being a tangible threat.
“Killua, I think we’re done here - I’m satisfied that you don’t pose a threat to the Association at this time,” she says. “We will continue to monitor your situation, and that conclusion may change in the future depending on your status and actions.”
He makes a face.
“Yeah, duh. I’ve got no plans to come after anyone, I’m just trying to keep my sister safe.”
“I understand. I’ll convey my findings to the broader Zodiacs, and you’re free to go.”
He jumps up immediately, faster than she expects, and he’s at the door before she interrupts him once more.
“One last question - who was your friend?”
He gives her a weak smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Gon. Gon Freecss.”
Of course, another bloody Freecss.
“Right, I see. You must be happy he was able to recover from such a serious condition.”
“Yeah… it was pretty bad.”
“And how is he doing now? I think we had some Hunters go check in on him recently, but I haven’t had the report yet.”
Killua is silent for a long moment, eyes clouded.
“He’s fine, I guess,” he says at length.
“Right, that’s good to hear. Thanks for your time, Killua.”
He nods, and then he’s gone, leaving Cheadle to ponder what might have happened to change Gon from someone that Killua would join a battle to the death for to someone at a distance that seems to induce considerable heartache.
She can’t shake the feeling that these two, in their time as Hunters, are going to be the source of some significant future migraines for her.
Notes:
I hope I captured Cheadle (and Beans, to a lesser extent) okay! I only really know about her from the anime and haven't managed to check out much of the Succession Contest arc yet so I'm having to make some guesses about that and its timing etc, and I apologise if anything doesn't make super sense in my assumptions. In any case, she came across like a super-clever high-EQ badass in the anime, so I am hoping I did her some justice here :D Errr and yes apologies for some Nen lore that might not hold up in the face of the full HxH literature, but I wanted Cheadle to be able to seed some ideas within Killua about possible ways to counter Illumi. It'll be back to normal programming (Gon-centric) next chapter! <3 Oh and a sidenote re: Alluka - I guess it remains to be seen how it plays out in canon, but it feels like she shouldn't just become a passive/helpless plot device for Killua's "purpose in life", hence Cheadle's questions (I'm looking at you, Nezuko and Tanjiro >_<). I'll try to do right by her in this fic, as best I can!
Chapter 12
Notes:
And we're back to Gon on Whale Island! We won't stay here indefinitely (ooh foreshadowing) but it's Gon for a while. I'm still trying to lock down how many more chapters we have to go, a lot is partially written and needing some editing/tweaking, but I know where we're heading in the near future :) If you're following along, big thanks again, it's so nice to know people are liking this and wanting to know where it ends up! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Just like that, Palm is gone.
He waves her off on the late morning ferry, watches from the docks until there’s just a tiny speck on the horizon. He can’t help thinking about how long it might take him to get to Swardani City if he left now, but knows it’s a futile thought experiment.
There’s no way Killua wants to see him, not after last night. He made that pretty clear. Talking to Gon is a source of pain for him right now, and it sounds like it’s going to take some indeterminate amount of time before that’s not the case.
Gon knows he spent a lot of their time together being selfish and doing what he wanted instead of ever considering what Killua wanted, and he feels like he has to step back and do the reverse.
So if Killua needs time and wants space, then he has to wait. For now, anyway, until he figures out what else he can do.
Gon sighs as he sits on the dock, swinging his legs under him and staring down at the blue water below.
If he thought he was feeling restless before, then now it’s like there’s an impatient fire burning within him. Even with all the unspoken words, it seems like Killua’s situation in trying to avoid Illumi is escalating quickly, and something has to be done.
But what?
He has no Nen, and even if he were at full strength with Nen, he’s not sure he could take Illumi one-on-one. Even with his and Killua’s powers combined, it would be a stretch, he suspects - mainly because he isn’t confident that Killua has it in him to take down a member of his family, no matter how twisted and monstrous Illumi might be. And Gon isn’t sure how Killua would really feel about Illumi being gone for good, as much as their family history is dark and messy.
They’re still brothers, after all, and Illumi claimed to love Killua.
But he remembers the look in Illumi's eyes when they faced each other after the Hunter Exam, the raw fury that fixed on him when he told Illumi he'd rescue Killua and never let the Zoldyck family see him again. He'd been pretty sure that even in front of all the senior Hunters and Chairman Netero himself, Illumi was considering killing him outright because he'd simply threatened to separate Killua from him.
The kind of love Illumi felt for Killua, whatever it was, seemed like it would only hurt his friend.
He’s not sure who would be a good match for Illumi, who is obviously going to play dirty. And he can’t imagine asking any of his friends to take the risk, because he knows Illumi isn’t going to hold back, and there is no way he’d be able to have their blood on his conscience. It’s probably the same for Killua, even if he ultimately was okay with Illumi being stopped for good.
Exposure wouldn’t work, either - apparently the Hunter Association had tried that before, and all it did was get a lot of unsuspecting Hunters killed in the line of fire. They’d had no idea what to expect from a Zoldyck as strong as Illumi, and a lot of innocent people had died as a result. Maybe stronger Hunters would do better, but there was no guarantee and at the very least, people would get hurt.
He wonders what the broader Zoldyck family thinks about the situation. None of them were likely supportive of Killua’s defection from what they saw as his responsibility to the family, but at the same time surely they didn’t support the idea of Illumi hurting and manipulating Killua into submission for the purpose of controlling both him and Alluka…?
But then, they all knew about Illumi’s pursuit of the two siblings for the past several months and had done nothing to intervene, as far as Gon knew. Not to mention Killua had angrily described to him the way his father had referred to Alluka as an “it”, hating the way his family treated her as inhuman. He’d told Gon that as they made their way to the World Tree, before he’d confessed that Alluka was the one who healed Gon, and he’d had no idea about Nanika then. It had been clear at the time that the Zoldyck family’s disapproval of Alluka went beyond the presence of Nanika, and there was nothing okay about that.
Then there was the state Killua had been in even after such a short time back with his family, when they’d “rescued” him following the Hunter exam… he remembered it well because Killua had been especially self-conscious in the weeks following their departure from Kukuroo Mountain, always wearing long sleeves and refusing to take any clothes off in front of Gon. No matter how many times he said that he didn’t care - that he was still Killua and that was all that mattered.
Their experiences growing up were so wildly different, and Gon thinks it’s kind of crazy how amazing Killua turned out despite all this. It would have been so easy for him to become everything his family was - dysfunctional, psychopathic and occasionally crossing into outright evil.
Huffing in frustration, he concludes it is unlikely that trying to reason with a centuries-old assassin family is going to lead anywhere productive, so he pushes that to the side and hopes he can think of something else.
Thinking was never his strong suit, though. He was much better at the doing, and his friends had always helped with the thinking part.
So he decides instead to do something.
He’ll train harder, and meditate more, and make sure he’s as ready as he can be to help when eventually there’s something useful he can do. It’s still a month and a half before school restarts, so there’s plenty of time to play catch-up now that he knows how far he’s falling behind.
He’ll make sure that next time he and Killua meet, he’s capable of standing beside his friend and protecting him and Alluka the way Killua had always protected Gon.
His phone rings the next afternoon, and it’s Leorio, who starts off by profusely apologising for not telling him about Killua and Alluka visiting him.
As usual, without mentioning their names, of course.
It seems a stupid thing to fixate on, but Gon suddenly thinks how sad it is that Illumi has even managed to steal Killua’s name from him. It’s a name Gon’s always loved to say and loved to hear, somehow soft and sharp at the same time, and it feels so right on his tongue. But now, they have to talk around his name, and it feels like another way in which Illumi is controlling his friend’s identity, stripping away at his very existence.
“He thought it was too risky for anyone elsewhere to know, even though I thought it wasn’t fair for you to be left out of the loop - I’m sorry, Gon. I didn’t even know they were coming till they showed up at my front door.”
“It’s okay, Leorio,” he assures him. “I get it. I wouldn’t have wanted you to do anything to put them, or you, in danger.”
There’s a lot he wants to ask Leorio, and he’s not sure where to start, leaving a hanging silence between them.
“They’re gone now, in case you’re wondering,” Leorio offers. “No one knows where, so they should hopefully be safer again.”
Gon suspects he’s saying this at least partly for the benefit of anyone who happens to be listening in on their conversation with the extra knowledge of who they are talking about.
“Right,” Gon says.
He’d probably feel a little more at a loss if he didn’t know about Palm’s ability. Even if Killua didn’t want to talk to him for now, it’s a small comfort to know that at least someone knows where he is, and that he can be found at some point if it really comes down to it.
“Leorio,” he begins hesitantly. “Tell me the truth… how was he, really?”
There’s a long, rather ominous silence, and all he can hear is Leorio breathing as he thinks about the right words to say.
“He wasn’t great,” Leorio says finally. “If they’d waited much longer, it would have been beyond my ability to help him, and he would have needed to go to a hospital.”
“Oh,” Gon says, his heart aching for his friend and how much suffering Killua has been subjected to in his life.
“The worst was a rather deep stab wound, which needed a lot of cleaning and quite a few stitches,” Leorio continues. “I think he said it was from a spear… anyway. The rest of the injuries were largely superficial, but he’d lost a lot of blood so that had weakened him. Even when he was literally shaking from low blood pressure, he refused to consider a transfusion because of the exposure that would have required, so the best I could do was insist they stay here long enough for me to monitor his recovery and make sure it was heading in the right direction.”
Gon is grateful for Leorio’s frank and detailed summary, but the image of Killua trembling sticks in his mind, a callback to the last time Killua suffered blood loss, and how oblivious he'd been to his friend's pain. His stomach knots guiltily, and for a moment he has to close his eyes, trying to clear the painful thoughts.
“But… he’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. There was no sign of infection or any complications, so other than needing to take it a bit easy, he should recover fine. He heals quick, but I guess you know that.”
It’s at least a relief to hear this, although he wonders about Killua’s chances of taking it easy if Illumi is still sending assassins after him.
There’s something else he needs to ask Leorio, and he’s not really sure how to broach the topic.
“Leorio, about the phone call…” he starts nervously. Leorio had been in the room at the time, presumably hearing all of Killua’s side of the conversation, and so had a vantage point that Gon was missing.
Leorio sighs.
“I’m not sure you could have done much differently,” he says. “In all the time they were here, it was the same. He’s maintaining a facade as if nothing happened and everything is fine, but it’s clear that below the surface there’s a lot he hasn’t worked through, and refuses to. I don’t know what exactly he saw in the forest when he found you, or the details of what you both experienced in NGL and East Gorteau, but whatever it was, it’s something he wants to keep buried deep and not deal with.”
“Not… ever?” Gon asks, trying to stop the despair creeping into his voice.
“I’m not sure, Gon. When people go through serious trauma, sometimes they end up repressing that for the rest of their lives. It’s generally not the healthy thing to do, but you also can’t force people to talk about things if they don’t want to, or they don’t feel ready to. If he’s going to deal with it, it has to be something he decides. None of us can do it for him.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Gon pleads, hoping there are some secretly effective approaches that Leorio will know of, based on his experience in medicine. “I just feel so… helpless. So much of it is my fault, I need to be able to make it better, I owe it to him.”
“Firstly, Gon,” Leorio says firmly, sounding a little angry. “You need to stop thinking of this as all your fault. Okay? You weren’t in a great place either, and even if you made some bad decisions, you can’t take responsibility for everything that happened or the choices he also made.”
“But I-”
“I mean it, Gon. Yes, be accountable for the mistakes you made, and try to do better next time, but there’s nothing to be gained in moping around and blaming yourself for everything that happened, to him or otherwise. And you can’t just magically fix people or undo any hurt or pain they are feeling regardless of how guilty you might feel, it’s not that simple. The best you can do is be patient, and when they’re ready for it, be there for what they need.”
“What if he doesn’t know what he needs, or doesn’t want to ask for help?”
“I’m far from an expert in this,” Leorio says slowly. “But I think you just have to take the opportunity when you can to ask questions, listen and gently suggest things. I do know though that nothing good ever comes of trying to force anything - it just won’t work.”
“Okay… I’ll try,” Gon says glumly.
“Trying is a good start,” Leorio says kindly, then Gon hears something in the background of the call. “Sorry, Kurapika is here and it looks like we need to go to a Zodiac meeting, so I better drop off now.”
Leorio promises to update him if he hears anything more or if anything changes, and they say goodbye.
He sits on his bed, staring at his phone. It sounds like then the only thing he can do for now is wait. Leorio has echoed Palm’s advice to be patient, even though patience is really not a skill he’s ever cultivated.
But that’s okay, he tells himself. He can work on that, and he can improve. It’s a different challenge than he’s used to, but he wants to be better and he knows he can do it.
So he’ll wait for the next postcard, and tells himself it’s okay for them to go back to the holding pattern of before, of postcards and photos at a distance, while Killua figures out when he’s ready to move beyond that. He wishes Killua was ready now, but being able to speak to him has at least filled a void temporarily.
And he doesn’t want to hurt his friend again. Leorio says he can’t fix what Killua feels - not the way he wishes he could. So if waiting is the only way not to make things worse, then he’ll wait.
He vows to himself that he’ll do his best to be whatever Killua believes he needs.
Even if it’s the last thing he wants for himself.
Notes:
A little slow I know haha, but a fair bit of aftermath things to deal with ^^; Needz moar Killua, but doesn't everything ehh. Is it true that the only time Gon and Illumi have interacted directly is in the aftermath of the Hunter exam? That's all I can remember, but maybe I'm misremembering. Btw if you rewatch ep21 (which I did lol), there's this weird thing Illumi does with his hand and Gon jumps back, so that's what I'm referring to. Not sure how it was in the manga but it was odd in the episode, for sure. Annnnd anyone else suspect who Leorio might be thinking of when he says he's not an expert in helping people work through things XD Would love to know how you're finding all this, let me know thoughts!! Will try to update again soon, hopefully later this week :)
Chapter 13
Notes:
Haha, clearly The Dreggs are *big* fans of Killugon and that's why a bunch of their songs suit this fic quite nicely. That's my highly scientific explanation and I'm sticking with it XD It won't be the last time their lyrics surface!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
All that’s made is made
And all that seems to grow
With you I hope this leatherbound heart
Will start to show
You all of my scars
And all of my broken parts
I don’t know who I am
Or what I am to some
“Places” - The Dreggs
“Be careful out there, it’s predicted to storm later today,” Mito warns him as he heads into the forest for his daily training and meditation.
“I will!” he promises, waving back at her.
It’s hard to believe the forecast given the endless blue sky with only a few patchy clouds, but then island weather can sometimes surprise you.
He’s feeling much stronger than before thanks to the past couple of weeks of physical training, much higher in intensity after the reminder from Knuckle that he couldn’t afford to take it so easy. It’s a nice feeling to have the payoff after all the work he’s put in. So much of his training had been Nen-focused for so long, always about pushing beyond whatever reasonable aura limits there were, and it’s both strange and oddly rewarding to be focused simply on the mechanical part of working out.
He’s still pretty slight overall in terms of his physical shape, but he can feel the ways in which his muscles are getting more defined and bulkier. It encourages him to work harder, pushing himself until he’s tired and sweaty and relieved to be stopping.
Then it’s time to meditate.
And of course, it’s Killua. It’s always Killua.
He breathes in and out, his eyes closed, trying to still his heart and mind, listening to the wind blowing around him and the crashing of the waves distantly on the shore. He tunes into his sense of smell, letting all the different scents mix and blend, telling the story of wildlife and plants and weather. Sometimes his sense of smell is too overwhelming, and he’s lucky he can dull it most of the time rather than actively focus on it.
He thinks about the first time he met Killua, and the joy he felt at making a friend his own age. That wasn’t to say he didn’t care immensely about Leorio and Kurapika, but there had been something so special about the way he and Killua fit naturally together, how just being with him had made him feel like the world was one endless horizon to explore, full of adventure and mystery and fun.
He never wanted to ever be apart from Killua after that. He’d felt that immediately, he remembers this well.
And he recalls how utterly lost he’d felt when he woke up to find out that Killua was the only one to fail the Hunter exam, and that he’d simply gone home. It was so at odds with everything he thought he’d learnt about his new friend, and his dreams to escape the ambitions of the Zoldyck family. How could he have left without saying goodbye? Had Gon imagined their friendship?
But then it made so much sense when the blanks were filled in by Satotz and he found out that Illumi had manipulated Killua into returning home, after forcing him to kill Bodoro in cold blood.
In reflecting, he realises that was the first time he ever felt that dark, cold rage within him, when he found out what Illumi had done, and he stood in that lecture hall, gripping his arm tightly to the point of breaking and fighting the terrible desire to go further in hurting the person that had hurt his friend.
He hates that Illumi is still manipulating Killua, taking away his chance to be free and forcing him into an endless chase. And yet again, he’s helpless to do anything about it.
He breathes out hard, feeling his heart rate quicken from frustration.
If only I still had Nen, he thinks.
He remembers the rush of aura through his body, the strange disconcerting feeling when Wing had opened their pores and it felt like his very life essence might leak out of him. The tingling vibration of aura as he shaped it or moved it around his body. The soothing calm of Zetsu, the way it felt as it suppressed his aura in the way twilight settled heavy after sunset.
It’s so familiar still even as it’s gone, so clear in his mind.
He imagines his body surrounded by aura, the way Ging suggested it still was, and tries to feel what it was like to be in control of that aura.
And he thinks of the time when they were first learning to control their auras, when he and Killua sat cross-legged in front of each other and touched their palms together, feeling their auras mixing and blending around their hands.
“It’s so weird,” Killua had said, his brow furrowed. “Like, I can feel it’s you, somehow.”
“Killua’s aura is sharp, and spikey,” Gon laughed in return. “It kind of tickles!”
“Yours is… like the cool shade on a hot day, it's calming and peaceful, but also with a tinge of warmth.”
It was such a nice description of his aura that Gon found himself meeting Killua’s eyes in response, tilting his head in amusement at the way Killua’s cheeks spread immediately with pink. Killua then laughed awkwardly, dropping his hand from Gon’s, his blue eyes filled with some indescribable emotion that Gon couldn’t place.
“I guess you are a bit of a hot head sometimes.”
He misses the feeling of Nen, for sure, but he misses Killua much more than that.
The memory of their discovery and exploration of Nen together washes over him in a deep, nostalgic wave, and he feels himself sinking into it, feels it drag him away from reality and into a world he used to share with Killua.
He’s startled from the meditation when he feels a large drop of water on his head, and opens his eyes to see that the dark grey clouds have indeed rolled in. They’d been building during his physical workout, but in the time he’d been meditating, they’d completely taken over the sky. He sniffs the air, and realises it won’t be long before the downpour begins.
Then he notices his hands feel slightly tingly, and he looks down at them.
What the…?
“No way,” he whispers, his breath sticking in his throat.
Either he’s had his eyes closed too long and he’s now seeing things… or there’s ghostly-white aura surrounding his hands.
Gon stares at his hands for a long time, squinting and trying to figure out if it’s really there. He clenches his hands, opens them again, and it’s still visible.
He has pretty much no control over it, but somehow, there’s aura emanating from him again, and he can see it. There’s a mild panic as he wonders what happens if he can’t make it stop, but it doesn’t feel particularly draining. Nothing like when Wing opened all of their pores, and their aura had been seeping out of them at an alarming rate.
Is this what Morel meant? That he might actually be able to learn to control aura all over again somehow, by meditating long enough?
Did Ging guess this would happen?
He feels the swell of opportunity within him, of all the things that suddenly seem possible again, of everything he might eventually grow to be.
And he wishes, more than anything, that Killua was here with him. That they could share this moment, laugh about how weird it is, and dream together like they used to.
But the distance between them feels like a void now, and the closest he can get to Killua is in the faded glow of the memories they shared. He wonders how long it will take for enough time to pass, how long he has to wait and be patient - will it be weeks, months... years?
The rain picks up before he can get too lost in the thought, and he grabs his backpack before rushing back in the direction of Aunt Mito’s.
The warmth of his aura prickles faintly against his palms the whole way home, a sensory reminder of the memory still fresh in his mind.
“Did you know this was possible?” he asks wondrously, flexing his fingers and feeling the aura tickle around them.
Morel laughs, a deep-bellied throaty chuckle filled with mirth.
“I had a suspicion,” he says. “Especially when you told me what Ging had said. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to pull it off alone, but then, I’ve made the mistake of underestimating you before.”
“I can’t turn it off,” Gon admits meekly. “I don’t think it’s a massive issue, but it’s like I have no control over it anymore.”
Morel hums.
“How did you activate your aura?” he asks after a pause. “Often the key to gaining control over it lies with the activation process.”
Gon feels his cheeks redden a little.
“I’m not really sure,” he says.
“What were you meditating on at the time?”
The slight reddening rapidly degrades into a heated flush as he recalls the sensation of Killua’s hand against his and his friend’s eyes looking into his own, and he’s grateful that this is an audio-only call.
“Uh… I guess I was thinking about when I first got control of my Nen,” he says, mostly truthfully. Even if it was heavily mixed in with his memories of Killua, it’s possible that the actual trigger was the memory of Nen.
“Interesting,” Morel says. “Most people could never use that as a trigger to activate Nen because no one usually gets a redo. Perhaps that’s related to why you can’t really control it right now, even though you activated it.”
“What should I do?” Gon asks hopefully.
“If I were you, I’d seek advice from those most skilled in Nen training and development. If you need some suggestions-”
“Oh, no I should be okay!” Gon says with dawned understanding. “I know exactly who to call. Thanks, Morel!”
He manages to get hold of Wing later that evening, coincidentally not long after Zushi’s most recent Heaven’s Arena win earlier in the day.
“I see, your Nen is returning,” Wing says thoughtfully. “That’s somewhat surprising, given my understanding was you had made a Nen contract to trade all your present and future potential for the power to defeat Neferpitou.”
Gon hasn’t mentioned Alluka, because Killua made him promise that it had to be on a need-to-know basis. Most people only knew the story of a powerful Nen exorcist healing him, which had been the official story circulated by the Hunter Association. He’ll tell their mentor one day, in person, but for now he has to leave him to draw his own conclusions.
“I guess I got lucky,” he says, hoping Wing will let it go.
“I suppose you did,” he agrees without pressing. “In terms of trying to control it, I’d suggest recalling your previous use of Gyo, imagining it concentrated in your hands, call to mind what you were thinking of at the time your aura activated and place yourself in that space and time, and then shift focus instead on what it feels like to dissipate the aura again. It might take a little while-”
“Thanks, Wing-san, that worked!” he exclaims, having already followed his instructions to successfully release the aura from his hands. The image of Killua’s pink-tinged face fades once more from his mind, but Wing never asked what he was thinking of at the time, and he’s not about to tell him.
He hears Wing stifle a laugh.
“I forgot what a quick study you were,” he says, and he can almost see his expression of amusement. “But I should have expected it. I’m glad to hear, Gon.”
Gon bites his lip, trying to decide whether it’s fair to ask the next question. Maybe he can ask it in a different way.
“So, Zushi has a few months before his next fight, right?” he asks in what he believes is a roundabout way.
Wing laughs outright this time.
“Subtlety is still not your strong point, huh Gon,” he comments. “Yes, Zushi does have some time before he’s due to challenge again. And the short answer is, I’d be happy to help guide you on how best to approach your Nen recovery.”
He senses a catch in Wing’s words.
“And the long answer?”
“You might be able to help me with a new approach that I’ve been requested to trial, an experimental method in measuring and developing Nen,” he explains. “It would mean that we wouldn’t need to meet in person, but instead make use of a device to train together at a distance.”
“That sounds great!” Gon says brightly. “I’m cool with trying anything! Can Zushi join too?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure he has access as well. It’ll take me a bit of time to get everything set up, and I’ll have to get the device sent out to you, perhaps a few weeks. In the meantime, I want you to focus on the four basic principles again: Ten, Zetsu, Ren and Hatsu. Just work through them, in whatever small ways you can. But don’t push it too much, it’s important you take it slow this time. There’s no rush, and you’re in uncharted territory so everything is more of a risk than before. Do you understand, Gon?”
He nods, but realises Wing can’t see him.
“Yes, I understand,” he says solemnly. “I don’t want to get this wrong.”
“Good to hear,” Wing says warmly. “I have all the faith that you’ll be fine, Gon. It’s a surprising gift that you’ve been given, to start again with your Nen when you should have lost it all forever, but I sense that you understand the magnitude of such an opportunity.”
“I do.”
“Then I wish you all the best for now, and I’ll be in touch again soon.”
There’s a muffled shout from the background, and Gon grins in recognition.
“And Zushi says hello.”
Notes:
Soooo yes I gave Gon back his Nen, in a manner of speaking. It does seem to be where the manga is tentatively pointing from what I understand, even though it feels a little deus ex machina. But I guess it's different if he has to work at it harder this time, and be more responsible about his general approach to Nen. Next chapter we'll exit this semi-limbo state, promise! Thanks for reading! <3
Chapter 14
Notes:
big big thanks to everyone who's taken the time to comment and let me know how you're finding this, I appreciate it so much!!! it was such a huge motivator to get this chapter sorted and finalised, and I think I'm getting close to figuring out the final pieces of this fic overall. I might be a little off in the end, but I have a chapter estimate finally! I'll have another (shorter) chapter within the next few days, figured it might be nicer to get this one out sooner rather than have an awkwardly long chapter later in the week lol. So yeah next chapter will be pretty soon :) and ummmmm... sorry Gon >_<
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Don’t be surprised when we hate this tomorrow
God knows we tried to find an easier way
Yeah, you and I will be a tough act to follow
But I know in time we’ll find this was no surprise
"No Surprise” - Daughtry
Three days later, for the first time ever, his heart sinks at the sight of the postcard sitting in Aunt Mito’s mailbox.
It’s the night skyline of Swardani City, a simple photo of the various coloured lights and tall buildings silhouetted against the dark sky.
Suddenly it’s too soon, even though it’s been three weeks, and he’s filled with dread at what Killua might have to say. This time it’s not a postcard from somewhere exotic and far away - it’s from the place and time they last spoke, when he pushed Killua too hard in his eagerness to try and fix things.
He somehow knows it isn’t going to be one of the normal light-hearted vague updates.
Gon gingerly picks it up, turning it over as his insides churn.
The postcard is damaged, with smears in the writing, and looks as if it’s been through rain. But he realises quickly what the likely source of the damage is.
Tears.
Killua had been crying when he wrote it.
Gon brushes his fingers hesitantly over the rough surface, his heart twinging painfully at the brittle texture of dried tears beneath his fingertips.
Feeling sick with apprehension, he forces himself to read the postcard.
Dear Gon,
I’m sorry about the other night. I know you’re sorry, and I know you want to help. And maybe we do need to talk about things one day, but right now it’s too hard, and it hurts too much. It makes me weak at a time when I need to be strong, and I have to be better than that for Alluka’s sake.
I thought that sending postcards and staying connected might help, but it seems like it’s making it worse for you, and it’s hard for me too. I think about you all the time, and it’s become a distraction. It’s stopping me from protecting Alluka the way I need to, and it almost got her hurt.
I think it’s best if we don’t have contact for a while. I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but it feels like it’ll be better for both of us.
I really am sorry. Please don’t hate me.
Killua
Gon feels his eyes well up.
He made himself a promise that he’d respect Killua’s wishes, so he knows that he has to, even if a dissonant unwanted part within him is unfairly angry at Killua for making a decision about what was best for both of them without his input.
But then, how many times has the reverse been true? How many times had Gon decided what he wanted and just expected Killua to follow? How many times had a decision Gon made led to pain and suffering for his friend?
Too many.
He is vaguely aware of the postcard dropping from his hand back into the mailbox, and it seems as if the world around him has drained of all its colour, the green of the grass and the blue of the ocean fading to nothing as everything closes in on him from all sides.
“Gon, is everything okay?” calls Aunt Mito from the door, her voice distant.
With a choked sob, he rushes to her and buries his face against her chest, wrapping his arms around his aunt as he collapses into heaving, desperate cries that shake his whole body. He feels his legs giving out beneath him, feels himself sinking down, and Aunt Mito drops to her knees with him, pulling him tight against her as he cries into her lap.
She doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t say anything, but simply holds him as he sobs, the same way she has when he’s woken up screaming after reliving any number of the terrors they’d seen in the battle against the Chimera Ants - the loss of Kite, finding him as a mutilated puppet, the death and destruction and carnage left by the Ants as they tore across the island, the battle with Pitou.
The look on Killua’s face when Gon chose self-destruction, turning away from him and his desperate pleas.
Maybe the hard truth is that he lost Killua that day at the World Tree, or maybe it was in the depths of the forest on that blackest night. But now it feels like he’s lost him all over again - this time for good.
He cries for what feels like forever, until he’s empty and numb and drained, and his aunt just sits there stroking his hair softly, her patience endless.
When he finally sits up, his eyes sore and his cheeks damp, she’s looking at him with such concern that he instantly feels guilty for worrying her.
“Do you want some food? Or tea?” she asks gently.
“No,” he says, his voice husky. “I just… wanna go bed.”
She frowns, her brow creased with deeper worry, but helps him upstairs and gets him changed into pyjamas. He robotically climbs into bed, and she pulls the covers up, brushing the tear-dampened hair back from his face.
“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she says with certainty. “It hurts now, I know, but it will all work out in the long run, I promise.”
He sniffles and nods but doesn’t believe her, not really.
With a sad smile, she leaves him alone and shuts the door. He’s too drained now to cry anymore, even though he’s still as devastated as when he first read the postcard.
When he finally falls asleep that night, his dreams are a shattered mess of memories, both good and bad, of all the times they had together that now seem lost forever.
The next day doesn’t feel any better, in fact it feels a lot worse. In the light of a new day, Gon finds himself forced to face the reality of the postcard rather than being able to hopefully dismiss it as just another nightmare.
It doesn’t really help his denial that Aunt Mito has retrieved it from the mailbox and placed it next to his bed, on the side table. He wonders if she read it, not that he’d blame her if she did. It’s hard to keep the contents of a postcard secret, after all.
He looks at it reproachfully, the covers pulled up around him, feeling a little silly for trying to glare it out of existence. It wasn’t the postcard’s fault after all. It was just a passive messenger, a deliverer of news he didn’t want to hear, of a sentiment he didn’t want to believe was true.
The real fracture ran between him and Killua - a break that started long before this postcard, widening with every step they’d taken both together and apart.
But he vowed that he would listen to what Killua asked for, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.
And there’s no ambiguity about what Killua wants.
He wants time and separation from Gon. He doesn’t want to be in contact anymore, and he doesn’t want to talk through what happened between them. He wants to focus on protecting Alluka and figuring out what to do about Illumi, and for that he needs Gon to stay out of the way.
That’s clear enough.
He replays the conversation with Ikalgo in his head, about him needing to consider what Killua wanted and what was best for his friend.
Is Gon being out of his life best for Killua?
Probably, says the unwelcome voice in his head.
All you ever did was get him hurt.
He frowns, staring at the postcard again.
Weren’t the good times worth some of the bad times? Maybe it didn’t all balance out, but there were times when he remembers laughing with Killua as if there was nothing in the world except the two of them and the adventures yet to be had. When Killua’s eyes had lit up with so much joy and happiness that Gon thought his heart would burst, because it made him so happy to see his friend like that.
“Gon?” his aunt’s voice calls hesitantly from the hall.
“I’m up,” he confirms, sitting up in his bed.
She enters the room, her watchful gaze on him.
“I was thinking-” she begins.
“There are some things I should tell you and Grammy Abe,” Gon interrupts, sensing where her sentence is heading. “About Killua, and what happened on our last Hunter mission, about… things I did.”
She just nods.
“If you feel ready to talk, then we’re here to listen,” she says.
He isn’t sure he’ll ever feel ready, but he recognises there are things they both need to know in order to understand what happened between him and Killua, and the choices he made that ended up leading him back to Whale Island without his Nen. It’s probably time he answers the questions that Aunt Mito has never been willing to ask directly, even though he knows she’s been thinking them.
“Yeah, let’s try,” he says with more confidence than he feels.
“Alright then, well, come down after you’ve showered and dressed, and we can talk over tea,” she says. “By the way, it’s past midday, and I’m giving you a free pass today, but it’s not good to lose the whole day in your bed!”
”I know,” he says with a wry smile. They’ve argued about the pros and cons of sleeping in many times over the years, and the end result was that he largely did become a morning person. The only times he’s been tempted back into long morning sleep-ins were with Killua, who would never opt to be up before midday if he had a choice.
They hadn’t often had a choice, though.
As he gets ready, the weight of what he’s committed to grows and each step starts to feel heavier. He has the urge to jump out of his window and run away into the forest rather than confess all the mistakes he made, and all the ways he failed those around him.
The ways he failed Killua.
When he first came back, his family treated him like a hero because they’d seen the news, and they got the letter from the Hunter Association outlining their appreciation for his service. There was a quiet awe when he arrived, and he knew they were trying to reconcile the image of him as Gon from Whale Island with Gon from the Hunter team that helped save the world from Chimera Ants (or rather, the political uprising it had been relabelled as).
Well, at least until his aunt had settled back into routine and found out how bad he was at finishing school work. Then he’d gotten quite a reality check.
But still, he’d seen it in the way Aunt Mito and Grammy Abe looked at him, so warmly and full of pride for what he’d done to help others. As much as she hated that he was putting himself at risk and following in Ging’s footsteps, Aunt Mito was really proud of what he’d achieved as a Hunter and all the people he’d saved, and said so often, generally followed by grumbling about his scruffy layabout father who could never finish anything he started.
Well, Gon had finished the fight with Pitou, that was for sure.
Would they still look at him with any semblance of pride once they knew what he sacrificed to do so? What he thought he was willing to give up? How many people, including Killua, he’d thrown into the line of fire without a second thought?
All of the things he’d done that were driven by a bloodthirsty desire for brutal vengeance, rather than any sense of trying to help or protect people.
He trudges down the stairs slowly, trying to keep up the nerve to finally tell them everything, or as much of everything as he can manage.
There’s a cup of steaming tea waiting for him at the dining table, and both his aunt and great-grandma are sitting on either side, waiting in the soft afternoon light that filtered through the window around them. He takes a seat, and wraps his hands around the warm mug, drawing in its heat and letting it distract him.
It doesn’t escape his notice that the white ceramic mug she’s given him is the one Killua used. Each of the mugs featured subtle carvings of animals along their handles, and she’d given Killua the cat mug while he’d visited. He runs his finger gently along the etched shapes of cats, transported momentarily back to the time of their last visit.
“Gon,” Aunt Mito begins, meeting his eyes. “Don’t feel like you have to get through everything in one go, and if you want to stop, it’s okay. Just know that we’re here for you, and there’s nothing you could ever tell us that would change how we feel about you. Got it?”
He nods, looking down at the tea in his mug, his eyes suddenly a little teary. He hasn’t even started talking yet and he’s already starting to lose his grip on things.
“Mito’s right,” Abe says kindly. “We know your heart, Gon. There’s so much love inside it, there always has been. From the time you were a child, you wanted to scoop the whole world up in your arms and protect it, save it from everything trying to hurt it. Whatever happened, I know you were doing your best to try and make things right because that’s who you are.”
It shouldn’t hurt so much to have them say such nice things about him, should it?
But his stinging eyes quickly progress to silent tears, dripping slowly onto the table as Gon stares into the watery depths of his mug of tea.
There’s a crack in this mug, one that’s been there as long as he can remember. But when Aunt Mito wanted to get rid of it years ago, Gon remembers protesting with all his might.
“It’s still part of the set,” he’d cried unhappily. “And if the cats are gone, won’t the whales, foxbears and squirrels get lonely? Just because it’s a little broken doesn’t mean it has to be thrown away.”
A strange look had crossed his aunt’s face at the time, one he hadn’t quite understood, but she’d never suggested throwing it out again after that.
He takes a deep breath, wipes his sleeve across his face to smear the tears away, and looks up with a determined expression.
“Okay,” he says. “Well… I guess it started when Killua and I went with Kite to NGL to investigate the possibility of Chimera Ants there…”
He trails off at the memory, and both Aunt Mito and Grammy Abe reach out to rest a hand on each of his hands, giving him a renewed sense of courage. Even though the shame is deep and painful, he wants to make the hard choice to share it with them.
After all, how can he ever expect Killua to be ready to talk about what happened between them if he’s too cowardly to face it himself?
He manages a weak smile at his family, and forces himself to continue.
Notes:
I swear the point of this fic isn't just to make Gon (and Killua) sad lol. But there's a lot of dark before dawn as the saying goes... In the spirit of inventing more things about the Hunter Association, I thought it could be plausible that they send letters to the families of Hunters who do things of particular merit, especially given how Gon ended up at the end of the CAA. And yes, I did check the episode to see what mugs they used LOL, and I did my best with a very plain white mug that *definitely* has animal carvings on its handle XD Thanks for reading, would love to hear what you think! <3
Chapter 15
Notes:
Here's what's kinda part 2 of the previous chapter :) but this part needed more work, and the whole thing was getting a bit long, so here we are! I would say I have about 95% clarity on where this fic ends up and how it all plays out, but ironically the next chapter is one of the less well-defined parts haha (as well as ending bits). Hopefully will sort that out by the end of the week! Thank you so much for all the kind comments, I am so glad to hear people are liking the fic and this is coming across as consistent with canon overall, that's def a key goal - so please do let me know if you spot anything that diverges haha because I am positive I'll forget/miss something XD sidenote: has anyone made a list of all the times Gon's choices ended up getting someone/Killua hurt or at risk? that must be an uncomfortably long list >_<
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the end, it takes most of the afternoon, and there are several diversions to reflect on all the times even before East Gorteau where he wishes he could have done better by Killua. In trying to convey everything to his aunt and great-grandma, he starts to appreciate just how many times his single-minded pursuit of a goal ended up putting someone in danger.
And how often that someone was Killua.
Aunt Mito cries at times, and Grammy Abe looks so sad and weary during the darkest parts of his story, like her heart is breaking, and he hates that he’s doing that to them. But he presses on anyway, because they keep squeezing his hands to encourage him to continue.
Once he reaches the part where he separated from Killua and Alluka at the World Tree, he figures it makes sense to stop, since they already know what came next - he met Ging, they talked, he came home.
“I always thought the thing I wanted most in the world was to find Ging,” he says slowly. “But that day, the whole time… it felt like the thing I really wanted, more than anything, was to stay by Killua’s side.”
He breathes out, the weight of all the same feelings he’d experienced that day sitting heavy on his chest.
“I didn’t want to let him go, I didn’t want to lose him. But I didn’t deserve to have him stay, either. And I didn’t know how to tell him any of this, and I couldn’t say it, because he had to go - so he could protect Alluka. And I still keep saying the wrong things to him, even now. Because with everything that happened, as much as it hurts me to think about… it hurts Killua even more, and a lot of that is my fault, even though Leorio says I can’t just blame myself.”
He fidgets with the mug, dropping his gaze.
“I guess that’s the whole story,” he says finally. “I probably should have told you sooner, but it was really hard to face it, and I didn’t know where to start. I’m sorry.”
Aunt Mito immediately pushes back her chair and envelopes him in a hug, pulling him close to her like she never wants to let him go again.
“I’m so sorry, Gon,” she murmurs. “We had no idea how much you’d been through… I could see you were suffering and I felt like there must be more than what the Association told us, but didn’t want to rush you to talk about it if you didn’t feel up to it.”
He hugs her back, savouring her warmth and comfort and feeling lighter than he has for a long time. It surprises him, but somehow just talking about it, and having them listen and not judge him and still apparently love him afterwards as if nothing changed, has made a huge difference.
“Have you told Killua how you feel about him?” his great-grandma asks. “How much you miss him, and how important he is to you?”
“Not really,” Gon admits unhappily. “I wanted to, I tried… but it came out wrong, and all I did was upset him.”
He glances up at his aunt, who still has her arms around him.
“Did you read the postcard?”
She flushes slightly, then nods.
“Sorry, sweetie, after you were so upset yesterday, I was really worried about what it said.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “Postcard messages aren’t private.”
“He’s hurting now, but that kind of pain dulls over time,” Mito says with sad eyes. “It’s obvious how much he cares about you, Gon.”
He blinks back the tears threatening to start again.
It’s not enough. He doesn’t want “obvious”. He wants Killua.
“Why doesn’t he want to have anything to do with me, then?” he whines childishly, knowing he’s being infinitely selfish when Killua and Alluka are having to be on the run for their lives, and he is just sitting here uselessly on the world’s most peaceful island.
“He has to sort out the situation with his brother, and protect his sister,” Aunt Mito says, echoing his internal thoughts. “When you’re struggling with a difficult situation, it can be really hard to have the mental space for other things, no matter how important they are to you. It’s not just about you, Gon.”
“I guess,” he says, starting to see her point. That gives him some hope that maybe one day Killua might be willing to try again, when he’s under less pressure from Illumi and his family.
But it reaffirms to him that he really wants to try and help with Killua’s situation. He can’t just stay here on the island and wait for things to sort out, especially if they might not work out for the best. Even without Nen, he has to be able to do something.
He just had to figure out what.
“Why don’t you write him a letter?” Grammy Abe suggests. “Try telling him all the things you wanted to say, in the words you were missing the other night.”
“But I can’t send it to him?” Gon points out.
“Not yet,” she shrugs. “But perhaps one day. And even if not, it will help you get your feelings straight in your own mind at the very least.”
“Maybe not a letter,” Gon muses out loud, the inkling of an idea forming in his head.
He looks at the clock. It’s half past four, so he has half an hour before the shops at the marina close.
“You better get going then,” Aunt Mito says knowingly.
He nods, reluctantly extracting himself from his aunt's embrace, and rushes upstairs to grab his bag. On his way out the door, he pauses, and looks back at Aunt Mito and Grammy Abe.
“Thank you for listening,” he says softly. “It really helped a lot to tell you.”
“Anytime, sweetie,” Aunt Mito smiles. Gon smiles back, broadly this time.
And then he hurries out the door towards the marina, the comforting scent of the ocean wafting on the breeze.
He spreads his haul out on the bed and admires it.
The shops at the marina hadn’t had a huge selection (and Whale Island wasn’t exactly a place rife with different scenic locations), but he’d managed to find a few postcards that were good enough: one of Whale Island in a similar vintage style to the first postcard he’d received from Killua, a sunlit artist’s rendition of the lake area where the Master of the Swamp lives, and one of the marina where the ferries land and depart. He also bought a bunch of coloured pens that had shiny gel ink.
He can clearly imagine Killua’s exasperated look at the sight of them.
Why would you buy all those colours when you could just get one?
But he wants his messages to Killua to be colourful, and convey as much emotion as he feels for his friend, and for that, just one colour doesn’t seem near enough.
It’s obvious to him which postcard he needs to start with, so he picks up the Whale Island postcard and turns it over.
The blankness of the card is intimidating at first, and he wonders if Killua felt the same when writing his first postcard. But then, Killua was forced by the circumstances to keep his messages short and cryptic, and Gon wants to do what his great-grandma suggested.
He wants these postcards to capture all the many things he wants to say to Killua, but failed to when they spoke. The things he was too embarrassed to say out loud.
The first pen he picks out is a warm red, reminding him of the last fading light of sunset. He figures he’ll cycle through colours as he writes, and make sure the resulting messages are bright and vibrant. Killua will probably say it’s childish, but Gon suspects he’ll like it anyway.
He breathes in deep, summoning all his courage and wishing he was better with words, and starts to write.
Dear Killua,
You’re far away at the moment, and I’m here, on Whale Island. The last time I came home, we were together, and I was so excited to show you all the places special to me. Now, all those places are special in a different way - because of you.
It’s kinda weird, isn’t it? After all that time together, never really separate since the moment we met... I don’t think I ever thought we might be apart like this, for so long. I guess that’s silly.
The other night, it was really nice to hear your voice again. I wish you weren’t so far away, and I wish you and Alluka didn’t have to be on the run. I wish I could stop Illumi for you.
What I really wanted to say back then, more than anything, was that I miss you. But it felt dumb to say it when you’re dealing with such hard things.
But I do - I miss you.
Gon
He’s surprised to find his eyes swimming with tears, and pulls his shirt up over his face to wipe them away, not wanting them to drop onto his postcard and smudge the colours. He tugs his shirt back down once his face is dry and slowly blows on the postcard’s ink, then sets it against his bedside lamp to dry properly.
He’s not sure exactly when he’ll write the other postcards, but decides he’ll wait for when he feels like he has something he really wants to tell Killua but can’t. And one day, he can hopefully send them, when Killua and his sister are safer and not having to be in mysterious untraceable locations all over the world.
One day, when Killua is okay with being in contact again.
For now, it feels like at least he’s managed to say in writing what he was too scared to say to the phone.
I miss you, Killua.
He blinks away the returning sting of tears, focusing instead on packing everything up back into the paper bag it came in and wondering where Killua and Alluka are right now.
There must be someone in the world who has a Nen power to deliver a postcard to anyone no matter where they are, he figures, eyes on the postcard leaning against his lamp.
But that person isn’t him, and so he’ll just have to hold on to the postcards, and all his feelings for Killua, until he can get them to his friend.
One day, said Grammy Abe.
He wonders how long he’ll have to wait until one day arrives.
Notes:
lol like I feel like Cluck from the Zodiacs is technically that person Gon needs, eh? I don't know much about her power tho (maybe there's been more shared in the manga) but since she got all those ballots to the Hunters... of course, poor Gon doesn't know that! thank you so much to everyone who commented, it's so nice to hear your thoughts about this fic and HxH and Killugon!! <3 Oh also I built a Spotify playlist for this fic (inspired by DecemberCamie's one for "painting flowers for you" - what an amazing fic btw!!!), but I can't share it yet because it might give away future directions XD I will share it as soon as I can!! but that's probably some chapters away...
Chapter 16
Notes:
The chapters, they're multiplying! Had to add two more chapters to the estimate ^^; I'm hoping we will reach equilibrium soon. Overall it's def looking better in terms of where we are now and where we're heading, far less question marks about the between. I'm excited for when we start heading towards the conclusion of this fic!! (we're not there yet) Thank you immensely for the comments, bookmarks and kudos, your support fuels me to keep writing and battle chapters <3 I'll try to keep up a regular posting pace, but the next couple weeks are a little hectic and while writing this fic is a lovely and very effective procrastination exercise from other responsibilities... other things may take a slight precedent XD I'll do my best!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
”There’s a package for you, Gon!” Aunt Mito’s voice echoes upstairs.
His heart skips a beat.
Maybe Killua had a change of heart?
He runs downstairs, two at a time, toward where his aunt is placing the large cardboard box on the dining table.
A few more weeks have passed, and he has slowly come to terms with the fact that waiting and training really is the best he can do for now, until Killua is ready for more. It doesn’t quell his impatience, and it doesn’t make him feel that much less restless, but he’s been using meditation to try and temper that part of himself, as well as developing his control over his agonisingly basic Nen abilities.
Apparently, he could temper more effectively because he's immediately filled with hope about who the package might be from.
But he quickly spots the handwriting of his address, and it’s not Killua’s.
The return address is strange, too.
Greed Island?
“Thanks, Aunt Mito,” he says distractedly, taking the box from the table to the living room to open. It’s quite heavy, and there are FRAGILE stickers all over it.
His stomach churning with anticipation, he pulls the sticky tape on the side and opens the box.
Inside, there’s another box, and a folded note on top.
Hey Gon!
Thanks for helping us test this out. We’re pretty sure this version counts as a beta release now and most of the bugs are gone, you’ll almost certainly be fine, but do make sure to read the terms and conditions and the waiver form (Wing signed it for you).
You and Killua should come back and visit us soon - Razor says he wants a rematch! Plus we released a new update, there are 50 new spell cards and a few more regions. As a previous completer, you’re free to come and go as you like using your ring, unless you explicitly give up that right. Did Ging tell you? We’ve got a bet running that he didn’t.
Let Wing know of any feedback you have, he can pass it on through the official channels.
All the best with your training!
List, Dwun, Eta, Elena and Razor
He smiles at the enthusiasm of the letter, almost hearing it in List’s friendly voice. Ging definitely didn’t mention the access to Greed Island - he’d love to be able to go back there with Killua and Alluka some day.
But he’s now wondering exactly what he signed up for, and what might be in the box. He gingerly lifts the second box out, and flips the lid with some trepidation.
Inside, there’s what looks like a headset complete with a shiny glass visor. It's the kind that he remembers Killua pointing out excitedly in Yorknew City, telling him they were a new form of computer that was immersive and Milluki had experimented with the previous generation.
Killua would be so jealous right now.
It makes sense that the creators of Greed Island might be using this kind of technology too. He wonders how it might relate to Greed Island itself, which they’d always assumed was a game they were transported into, but then had later turned out to be a teleportation to a Nen-controlled physical location somewhere else.
It doesn’t look like something that can actually hurt him though, if it’s just a computer that he has to put on his head.
You should take care before you put it on.
The echo of Killua’s caution flashes through his mind, and he remembers how his friend had been suspicious of the items left behind by Ging for Gon.
He smiles a little at Killua still managing to protect him, even at a distance, and makes a decision to talk to Wing before doing anything with the headset.
After carefully closing the box again, he carries it upstairs and puts it on his desk. He wonders how something like a headset can possibly help him train effectively in Nen usage, but then, Greed Island had been an amazing and impressive place far beyond anything he and Killua could have imagined.
And he thinks Killua would love this - another adventure, some crazy-advanced technology, the prospect of getting strong in a new and different way.
He spots his collection of postcards and coloured pens poking out of the drawer, and pulls it out, taking a seat at his desk.
Maybe it’s time he writes another postcard.
He picks the lake postcard out, his mind inevitably calling forth the memory of bringing Killua there to teach him to fish, so they could catch something to eat.
Killua had been unexpectedly bad at fishing to begin with.
“Fishing isn’t exactly high on the assassin skill list,” Killua had grumbled, after spending the first thirty minutes failing to even secure a fish on the hook. Gon remembers finding his annoyed huffs incredibly amusing.
But Killua had gotten the hang of it, because he did pick up new things quick, and he’d been the one to rein in the trout that became their dinner.
Gon smiles at the memory, this time starting with a green pen.
Dear Killua,
Do you remember when I taught you to fish? It was so surprising to me that you didn’t already know how, it seemed like there was nothing you weren’t amazing at. But then you got better so fast, and I bet you’ll catch up to me one day.
I’m having to relearn my Nen all over again, and it seems harder this time. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to take it slow, but I think a big part of it is that I’m having to do it without you. The pressure to keep up with you was something that made me get better so quickly!
I’ll be training soon with Wing and Zushi, using this new headset approach. It seems like the kind of thing you’d love, using really new and fancy technology, and I wish you were able to train with us. Maybe one day Wing can get you one too, if it’s safe to.
I hope you and Alluka are doing okay, wherever you are.
I haven’t told anyone else this, but it was the memories of you that helped me get my Nen back. I don’t know for sure, but I think somehow when I remembered the feeling of our auras touching, that helped me to open the micropyles in my hands and eyes.
It felt like you were really there, like I’d just touched your hand for real. It’d be kinda nice to try that again one day. Only if you’re okay with it though.
Gon
He’s less sad after writing this postcard, but the longing in his chest to be near Killua again feels stronger than ever.
It’s only been three weeks since the postcard from Swardani City, but it seems like so much longer. Even though he knows it’s futile, he knows he’s still holding on, waiting for another postcard from Killua, waiting for him to change his mind about not being in contact.
Next week he has to go back to school, and he’s not sure how he feels about that. Maybe it’ll be a welcome distraction from thinking about Killua all the time, but it’s also an annoying break from training - and now, with the headset, a break from working on his Nen. Aunt Mito will never let him skip though, so he’ll just have to figure out how to fit everything in.
He picks up the postcard, brushing his fingers over the colours lightly to make sure they’ve dried sufficiently, and then slots it back into the paper sleeve with the other postcards.
Afterwards, he asks his aunt if they can have trout for dinner.
“Sure, if you can pick up one from the marina,” she says. “But why trout, all of a sudden?”
He shrugs with a small smile.
“No real reason.”
“You waited to check with me to put on the headset?”
Wing sounds surprised at his level of caution.
“Well, the letter made it sound like there could be risks,” Gon says by way of explanation. “And I just… well, if he were here instead of far away, I know he’d want me to be careful.”
“I see,” Wing says, his voice softening at the unspoken name. “You’ve had a lot of time to think about things since being home, huh?”
“So much time,” Gon groans, only partly in jest. “I’m practicing my ability to be patient at the moment.”
“Is that right?” Wing says in an amused voice. “How’s that going so far?”
“Uh… it’s okay. Meditating helps a bit, I guess.”
“Some people take a lifetime of practice and never master the art of patience,” Wing quips. “So it’s not an easy task you’ve set yourself.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better!”
Wing laughs, then grows more serious.
“Well, in any case, you don’t have to worry too much about the headset and any risks,” he says. “Yes, it’s experimental, but unlike Greed Island, there’s no chance of death. The device will be connected to your aura and Nen, but not in a way that should deplete you to any concerning levels. That said, it’s good practice to be careful in the face of uncertainty, so it’s wise to follow what you think others with more caution would do.”
What you think Killua would do, Gon mentally fills in the unspoken words. Wing and Zushi had been instructed about not mentioning Killua directly at some point in the past, presumably by Palm. They know he’s on the run from his brother, and that he’d rescued his sister from the family, but they still know nothing about the details of Alluka and Nanika.
Well, he’d spent enough time with Killua that he can often guess what he would do or say in a given situation.
But he would much rather have the real Killua by his side telling him directly. Or berating him for his silly choices, as the case has been in the past.
You moron! An apology won’t help! Do you have any brains in there?
He suppresses the smile at the memory, remembering how weirdly nice it had felt that most of Killua’s frustration and anger seemed to stem from concern for Gon.
“How does it work, what should I do?” he asks Wing, lifting the flap of the box to peer at the headset inside.
“It’s powered by Nen, but there’s a reserve battery which you should charge first,” Wing explains. “We can aim to meet tomorrow, I’ll send you an identifier code so that we can make sure to end up in the same instance of the training arena. Zushi and I have already set everything up, but you’ll need to go through some setup prior.”
Gon suddenly feels a little nervous.
“Is it complicated?”
Killua had always been the one to translate things for him, whether it be the rules of Greed Island, the complex equations of Nen depletion or even how to estimate power quantitatively instead of just by instinct.
“Hmm, no, pretty straightforward,” Wing says. “How about we meet at 3pm? Make sure you go somewhere with a lot of space around you. We’ll be using one of the empty training halls at Heavens Arena, but I don’t suppose you have anything like that on Whale Island?”
Gon ponders the question.
“No, not really,” he says. “The closest would be the indoor basketball court, but it’s currently being renovated for the coming tourist season. And if there’s a chance I damage it, they might not like that very much. But there’s a field not too far from my house that should be okay.”
“That sounds sensible,” Wing agrees. “Make sure you set up the boundary carefully, far away from any edges.”
Gon has no idea what he’s talking about, but promises to do so.
“Oh, by the way, Zushi wants to talk to you,” Wing says. “He was a little upset that I didn’t pass the phone to him last time. Can I put him on now?”
“Sure!”
There’s a rustling at the other end, and then Gon hears the phone being picked up again.
“Hi Gon!”
“Zushi, hey!” Gon says brightly, instantly cheered by his friend’s enthusiastic voice. “Congrats on your win - you’re going to be a Floor Master in no time.”
“Oh, thanks,” Zushi says bashfully. “I still have no chance of keeping up with you guys, but I’m getting better slowly.”
“I got totally reset,” Gon reminds him. “You’re miles ahead of me now, Zushi.”
“Hmm, maybe for now,” Zushi says, unconvinced. “Are you really taking it slow?”
“Yeah,” Gon says. “I don’t want to rush it this time, or make the same mistakes I did before.”
“That’s wise. You sound a lot more grown up, Gon.”
“Do I? I don’t feel it. Time passes weird on the island, it feels like I only just got home, and at the same time like I’ve been back here forever.”
Zushi makes a thoughtful noise.
“I’d like to visit Whale Island one day,” he says. “It always sounded like such a peaceful and beautiful place when you described it.”
“You totally should,” Gon agrees wholeheartedly. “It would be great to have you here.”
“Actually, wait till you see what the headsets can do!” Zushi says excitedly. “I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but it’s pretty cool!”
He refuses to give anything else away, despite Gon’s insistence that he can act surprised tomorrow.
For the first time in a while, he feels like he has something completely new and different to look forward to tomorrow, and the anticipation of the unknown burns within him.
He’d forgotten what it felt like, back when he was a Hunter and every day seemed to promise a new adventure. Granted, there’s a significant lack of Killua at his side, and that’s a big downside, but he’s still fueled by the thought of what lies ahead when he meets with Wing and Zushi via the headsets.
When he sleeps, he dreams of Greed Island - of bustling towns and firelit taverns and magical spells and rainbow diamonds - and of bright blue eyes and the softest smile that sets his heart on fire. He wakes with that image still clinging to him, the same way the sea mist clings to the morning air over Whale Island.
Notes:
Is it canon for Killua to be bad at fishing? No idea. I based that on the clip at the lake where he looked overly pleased with himself to hook the fish, and I'd literally just spent half an hour myself failing at catching fish in Valheim, and that's the expression I reckon I made when the damn thing finally caught. I tried and failed to convincingly identify the fish in the anime, so let's all pretend it's a trout XD or if you actually know what fish it is, tell me and I will correct it!! If you want a reference clip for the "softest smile", then see the start of ep65 of the anime and the way Killua looks at Gon during Bisky's narration T_T Bisky is 100% Team Killugon for sure XD
Chapter 17
Notes:
Finishing this chapter was my reward to myself for being responsible and making at least one set of slides XD Is there another set of slides to do? Maybe. But that's later in the week's problem. Huge and massively grateful shout-out to everyone for all your support for this fic, and I'm loving hearing your thoughts and speculations about everything!! Voodie and BookNerdAO3, didn't quite get there this chapter, but next chapter keep an eye out <3 Once I get through the next week, checking out the 1999 anime is so high on my list of things to do!! ^^
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Wing didn’t entirely lie to him, but it’s not quite as straightforward as he made out.
Once he puts the headset on, strapping it tightly to his head, it greets him in Elena’s voice and loads instructions about what to do. If he remembers what Killua once explained to him, then it seems to be in an augmented reality mode, since he just sees instructions hovering in the air in front of the natural surroundings of the field.
He can feel a strange sensation as he uses the headset, like a gentle pull from within him and a faint prickling along the surface of his skin, and figures that must be it drawing on his aura as a power source. Probably the battery is a last resort if he doesn’t have enough Nen, and wonders how likely that is to happen.
He has no idea what the current limits of his aura usage are.
The instructions are somewhat involved with many steps, and he sometimes gets a bit confused about what it wants him to do. Still, it only takes him about half an hour to get completely set up, including carrying out a detailed scan of the field with the headset so it can map the space and similarly scanning himself into the headset so that he can create an avatar likeness.
It’s actually a little unnerving how much the avatar version of himself looks like him, especially since the headset view animates the avatar. It’s like watching a video of himself, except it’s not him.
Once it gets to 3pm, he puts in the code that Wing gave him and watches in wonder as the sunlit afternoon dissolves around him, instead giving way to a glowing open space. It reminds him of an arena in a way, kind of like Heavens Arena, but the sky above is a cosmic starscape and the floor shimmers iridescently through all the colours of the rainbow. There aren’t any walls, and instead it seems like the ground just drops away at the edges.
He wonders what would happen if he fell off the edge.
“Gon!”
He turns at the excited shout, and sees Zushi and Wing heading towards him, the former waving cheerfully. They also look just like themselves, with only the slightest hints giving away that they are actually avatar representations. Everything, including their expressions and the movements of their eyes, is captured, and it’s as if he really is standing in this mysterious place with the two of them, despite knowing in his brain that he’s actually in the middle of a big field on Whale Island.
“How cool is this place?” Zushi exclaims, gesturing around.
“It really is,” Gon agrees, looking up at the twinkling stars above. “I still don’t really understand what this headset is for, though. I can train my Nen in here somehow?”
He looks to Wing.
“That’s correct,” Wing says. “This device was designed by the creators of Greed Island to allow secure advanced development of Nen abilities for pro Hunters, as well as collaborative training between different Hunters all over the world. It’s still experimental, which is why they’re asking people in the Association to try it out and help find any remaining bugs before it becomes more widely available.”
“Huh,” Gon says, tilting his head. “That seems pretty neat.”
“Look down at your wrists,” Wing advises. “Turn them up so they are facing you.”
He does so, and on his left wrist there’s information about the time and place. It shows his position on a tiny world map as a red marker, and it has a version identifier. On his right wrist are a complicated series of indicators and charts, with a menu button next to them. He tries to make sense of them, but can’t figure out what they are showing.
“Oh,” he says nervously, feeling as if there’s steam starting to come out of his ears as he tilts his head sideways to try and make sense of the display. “I’m not really good at reading charts, Wing-san.”
“It’s okay, Gon,” Wing says with a smile. “These are measuring your current Nen levels, against the existing standards and protocols that the Hunter Association has for categorising power and abilities.”
He looks at them again. Now that he interprets them as levels that have to get higher, he can see that most of the bars and charts are low or nearly empty.
“I have a long way to go, huh.”
“Don’t worry, Gon,” Zushi says brightly. “You’ll fill them all in no time!”
“Sure,” he says, in a most unsure way.
It’s a little disconcerting for Gon to realise that Zushi’s overt optimism, as jarring as it is, isn’t so different to how Gon used to be. And yet he finds it impossible to locate the same boundless positivity within himself, because it’s now moderated by a sense of hesitant wariness about all that could go wrong.
There’s a voice at the back of his mind urging caution, as if the light of every new possibility might hide a darker shadow, and it’s one that never goes away.
But then Zushi didn’t leave Heavens Arena, didn’t train with Bisky and Killua on Greed Island, didn’t fight the Bomber to the near death, didn’t chase Ging around the world and end up with Kite, didn’t watch Kite start a fight they all knew he wasn’t going to win, didn’t turn his back on everyone he cared about and fall into a void of darkness and despair so deep it felt like the only way out was to succumb.
Maybe growing up a bit after all that was inevitable.
“So,” he says to Wing and Zushi, pushing the thoughts down within him.
“Where do we start?”
They spend the next two hours going through all the ways the training programs work, and how Gon can measure and track his progress in different Nen areas, as well as develop his skills. It turns out the headset uses their auras to accurately simulate all the physical interaction they would normally have as part of training. Wing tells them that this takes away the need to have any haptic devices or body tracking, which had been needed for the one Killua showed him.
“At my request, they also built in the ability to determine a user’s Nen type, which means we can now do that assessment remotely without needing the classic glass of water approach,” he says proudly.
He shows Gon where the relevant part of the menu is.
“I already put in your categorisation as Enhancer,” Wing explains. “Otherwise I think it would be prompting you to do the test. In any case, you can try it out later if you’re curious.”
Zushi finally reveals to him the secret he’d been talking about, and it’s an augmented reality mode that enables either of their surrounding environments to replace the default arena.
Suddenly, Zushi and Wing are standing in the field with him, and they can all see the same environment around them.
“Wow, it really is so pretty!” Zushi says in awe. ”I’m definitely coming to visit you one day.”
He spars with Zushi (who he is dismayed to realise is holding back hard), and they get personal assessments at the end as well as a breakdown of the different offensive and defensive Nen abilities they used during the fight.
Wing steps out of the headset to take a phone call, leaving Zushi and Gon to sit on the edge of the field looking out at the ocean as the sun dips towards the horizon.
Even though he knows Zushi is on a completely different continent far away, it feels just like they are together on Whale Island. The slight shimmer to his avatar and the lack of impact on the grass beneath him gives it away, but these small details barely impact the feeling of being with Zushi in a completely natural way.
“Have you heard from Killua?” Zushi asks finally. Wing had told them it was safe to talk openly inside the headset, since their communications were linked directly to each other using a secure Nen-based network.
Gon’s heart clenches at the reminder of the last time he heard from Killua.
It’s not his fault, Gon thinks. He doesn’t know, how could he? The only people that know about the last postcard Killua sent are his aunt and great-grandma.
“Uh, a little while ago,” he says, resting his head on his knees as he stares at the distant waves.
“Are they doing okay?”
“Mm, I guess.”
He can feel Zushi’s gaze on him.
“It’s weird to think of you two being apart,” Zushi says. “I never expected you to be, you were like two sides of the same coin.”
“Me neither,” Gon says truthfully. “It felt like I was missing a piece of me when I first got back.”
Zushi is quiet for a while.
“Are you doing okay?” he asks.
Gon isn’t really sure how to answer that.
He’s physically doing well, managing to keep up his training at a high intensity, and sometimes he feels almost like his old self in both strength and speed. There have been less nightmares, and even though he definitely still feels restless, he has felt better when channelling his energy into physical training and meditation. He’s built up a slightly better control of his aura already, working his way through the foundations of Nen like Wing had suggested.
He doesn’t really like it, but he thinks he is maybe slowly coming to terms with the need to be patient. At least, until anything changes and it makes sense for him to do something more useful than wait and train.
But he still misses Killua.
Depending on the day, this takes many forms, but the most common is a deep ache within him, a mixed feeling of longing that ebbs and flows like the tides, sometimes overwhelming in the way it hits him when something strongly reminds him of Killua.
A place, a smell, a memory, a dream.
But he can wait. He will wait. No matter how long it takes, he’s determined to prove to Killua that he can give him the time and space he needs.
“I’m mostly doing fine,” he says. “But it’s hard just staying here waiting when things are happening beyond the island. I really miss Killua, and I wish I could do something to stop him from having to be on the run from his family. I don’t know if that would be enough to change how he feels about me… but it’s the only thing I can think of.”
He must look sad because Zushi hastily apologises.
“I’m sorry for bringing it up Gon, I didn’t want to upset you! I won’t mention Killua again, promise.”
But the thought of that hurts more, somehow.
“No, don’t do that,” Gon says quickly. “I don’t want to not talk about him, even if it hurts - I don’t want to lose Killua any more than I already have.”
“Right,” Zushi says warily.
“I mean it! Remember all the fun we had at Heavens Arena together? All the training, and developing our Nen, and winning fights on the different floors… those are such precious memories to me, and Killua was part of everything. I never want to lose hold of that, no matter how far away he is now.”
Zushi tentatively smiles, nodding his understanding.
“Okay Gon, I get it.”
And it’s true, what he says to Zushi.
There’s a gaping hole within him, the part of him that belonged to Killua, and even though it’s painful and even though it makes him sad sometimes, he doesn’t want to lose it. He doesn’t want it to heal or close or change, because that would make him feel further away from Killua, maybe for good.
Even as he continues his life for now on Whale Island, even though it’s getting easier to be without Killua, he wants to keep that part of him safe and protected, so that one day when they are together again, he’ll be complete once more.
It can only be Killua.
Because Killua had always had that piece of him.
Notes:
Haha, can you tell I kind of want this Nen headset for my own? Sidenote though, if you haven't tried a VR headset lately, I highly recommend giving it a go! It's so awesome to be in immersive environments (games, meetings, exercise!) with others anywhere in the world. It's not quite as magical as a Nen-powered headset, but it's definitely up there!! In other news, I have contributed my own insufficient translation here of "Killua jya nakya dame nan da", you're welcome XD Actually when translating Japanese I used to go the super literal path to try and preserve the original grammar, and for that it would probably end up being "If it's not Killua, it's just no good" - but that really loses its poetic tone ^^; thanks for reading! <3
Chapter 18
Notes:
This chapter ended up a bit long for one chapter but too long for two, so alas here we are XD Slides are now no longer an issue, so I could come back to this and get the next chapter out ^^ well, there's a slight choice between posting a chapter vs. getting sufficient sleep, but I'm confident I made the right choice lol. Thank you so much for the lovely comments, kudos, and for continuing to read this! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The passing weeks begin to fall into a kind of rhythm, a balance between training the different parts of him (his body, his mind and his Nen), the commitment of school and, at Aunt Mito’s suggestion, volunteering in the Whale Island community.
He goes with her to the March town hall, and gets assigned to the star festival committee. He’s not unhappy about that since it’s always been his favourite from when he was a child, one filled with light and hope and wishes for the future. It’s a festival he would have liked to take Killua to one day, especially since it falls around the same time as his birthday.
The committee is being led by Ms Aoyama this year, who smiles knowingly and says she’s looking forward to making use of the same skills he’s been helping her with around the classroom. Since it’s still some months away, there’s not too much to do yet (just a short weekly meeting), and he’s expecting to mostly be on setup duty when the time arrives.
When it comes to rebuilding his Nen, it’s still slow progress overall, he guesses largely because of his own unwillingness to push too far or too fast. The headset is a big help to him in re-developing his Nen and tracking how he’s going, as well as enabling him to both train on his own but also meet up with Wing and Zushi when they’re free.
Out of curiosity, he loads up the Nen assessment during one of his sessions, and finds himself in a small room with a gently-glowing orb before him. A prompt comes up and tells him to place his hands on either side of the orb and channel his aura into it, so he does.
The orb shimmers and glows as his aura surrounds it, and he watches as the Nen categorisation chart projected behind it flickers across the different categories, with each flashing golden as the system attempts to place him.
Enhancer glows steadily bright for a few seconds, before the glow switches to Specialist, and then splits between, but suddenly the chart glitches and pixelated fragments scatter across it, the light inside the orb fading out abruptly.
ERROR: INCONCLUSIVE!
He blinks at the red warning message, not sure what that’s supposed to mean. Maybe this is part of the program that is still under development and has bugs?
“How odd,” Wing says thoughtfully when Gon tells him about it later. “It worked fine for both Zushi and me, and categorised us accurately. I’ll pass this on to List and the others, but for the moment, let’s pause any further attempts to classify your Nen, okay? It’s hard to predict what might happen, it will most likely be the headset program failing for some reason, but we can’t rule out the possibility that your Nen truly is different now.”
After writing the third postcard to Killua, he feels the remaining options at the marina are too unsuitable and decides to draw his own, despite his arguably-limited artistic skills. So he buys a set of blank postcards and on the front, he sketches scenes of the time he and Killua spent together - racing during the Hunter exam, battling opponents at Heavens Arena, sitting under the stars on Whale Island, hanging out with Bisky at the Christmas market, training on Greed Island.
He finds there are so many memories he wants to capture on postcards and so much he wants to tell Killua. And with every message written down, he feels a little more connected to the times when they were together, and more certain that that’s what he wants, more than anything, for his future: to be with Killua, wherever that might be and whatever they might be doing.
His biggest wish - and greatest fear - is that Killua might (or might not) want the same.
There have been no more postcards despite the weeks passing, and even though he knows he shouldn’t hold on to the hope, he still finds himself checking the mailbox regularly, by habit. If she’s noticed, and he strongly suspects she has, his aunt says nothing. Palm cryptically lets him know they are doing okay whenever she can, making it come across as if she’s just reassuring him, and he’s comforted by the fact that she can keep a regular eye on Killua and Alluka in case Illumi tries anything more aggressive.
It still feels like a holding pattern, like he’s waiting for something, but he also tells himself that he’s doing what he can for now, and that’s good enough. He’s not complete, not without Killua, but he tries his best to find happiness around him even in the waiting, holding on to the adamant belief that one day they will be together again.
All they need is time, however long it takes.
He’s sitting in class after lunch one day, his stomach pleasantly filled with smoked sardines and crispbread, savouring the feeling of the sunshine through the window on his skin as he concentrates on the sheet of paper in front of him.
He tries not to think about how much he wishes he was outside, because that’s never a constructive train of thought to entertain.
It’s literature studies, which he doesn’t mind generally, except when they’re reading something that he has to think hard about in order to understand.
Unfortunately, today is one of those days.
Love among the Ruins is the poem that Ms Aoyama has picked for them to study, claiming it to be one of her favourites from back when she was following the school curriculum as a student herself.
He thinks he might like it, but it’s filled with so many strange and unfamiliar words. What even is “verdure”, anyway? And he can’t quite see how the poem is meant to flow, because it seems so staggered and interrupted.
“Try saying the words in your head, pausing at each of the line breaks and commas,” she suggests. “You’ll get the rhythm better that way.”
So he does.
And he does like it.
Somehow, the words paint an image in his mind, of the soft colours of sunset and the wistful sadness of collapsing ruins and the indifferent passing of time. He tries to let the words he doesn’t know wash over him, and he starts to understand why Ms Aoyama likes this poem so much.
But he’s confused as well. Because it’s called love among the ruins.
He turns to Noko, who’s sitting in front of him today.
“Hey, Noko,” he whispers. She turns around with an inquisitive expression.
“What’s up, Gon?”
“Can you tell me what love is?”
Her mouth drops open and her cheeks flush pink.
“What? Why are you asking me?!” she exclaims, drawing a sharp look from Ms Aoyama.
“I don’t know who else to ask,” Gon says honestly, making sure to lower his voice. “I thought you might know.”
Noko looks at him with an odd expression, and sighs.
“I need more context,” she says.
“Well, isn’t love to do with taking people on dates and doing things they want to do, and then eventually you get married if you do that enough?”
She stares at him.
“Are you for real, Gon?”
He shrinks a little, feeling silly. It’s not like he doesn’t know family love , the kind that he shares with Aunt Mito and Grammy Abe. And he loves his friends, in a similar way to how he feels about his family.
But romantic love? That was a mystery to him, regardless of how many childhood “dates” he’d been on with women visiting the island. He didn’t have a lot of immediate examples to draw from. He didn’t even know if he was born from love, and Ging wasn’t likely to ever tell him.
Noko looks down at the poem in front of him, then back at him.
“Is it about the poem?”
He nods.
“I’m just confused why it’s about love,” he says in a low voice. “It talks about meeting a girl who’s waiting in the ruins, and the longing to meet each other, but in the end all they seem to want to do is just be near each other. Not on a date, but just… being together. Is that love?”
Noko tilts her head, looking at him for a long time as she thinks about what to say.
“I mean, yeah, I guess,” she says slowly. “Love isn’t just about dates, Gon. I don’t think it has just one definition, though. But to me, yeah, the poem is all about love. The kind of love where you care about someone so much and think about them more than anything else, and all you want to do is be together, by their side, because being near them makes you happy and it makes them happy, too. You want to be physically close to them, and being apart is hard. That’s definitely love. In the case of the poem, he puts the simplicity of that above the glory and ambition and triumphs of the past, which all ended in ruins anyway.”
Gon blinks, his throat suddenly dry and his stomach turning. His chest pangs at Noko’s words, a reminder of the distance that continues to hang between him and Killua.
“Huh,” he says dumbly.
Noko’s mouth twists in a playful smile.
“Is this why you were so confused about whether you loved your Mystery Girl?” she asks curiously. “Because you weren’t sure what I meant by love?”
“No, it’s not that,” he protests, earning another pointed look from Ms Aoyama.
“Okay, Gon,” Noko says with a wry smile, turning back to her desk.
Well, it’s not just that.
He still feels that whatever connects him with Killua runs deeper than love alone, that it binds them together in a way that feels both immense and eternal.
But he’d ruled out the notion of love at the time, dismissing it as Noko’s childish assumption about girls and dates. He’d told his visiting Hunter friends that he wasn’t in love with Killua. Love was something else, he’d thought.
And yet, if this poem was painting a picture of romantic love, and if what Noko was saying about love agreed with that - if love, at its core, was really about wanting and choosing to be with someone above all else…
He was suddenly being forced to face the possibility that maybe, maybe, he did love Killua after all. Maybe some of the feelings he had for Killua could be the kind of love that Noko had assumed in the first place.
Gon looks down at the poem again, letting the words conjure up the visual of the ruins in the fading sunset, with the shadows of the past playing out as spectres around them.
But this time, it’s not a girl with eager eyes and yellow hair waiting in the ruins - instead, he sees clear blue eyes, a shock of white hair and a hesitant smile.
He wonders if there’s any chance in the world that some of Killua’s feelings for him might possibly be that kind of love as well.
April has come, and with it the cooling breezes as Whale Island heads towards its mild version of winter, which usually just means lower humidity and the occasional cooler day.
Gon sits on a rock overlooking the beach with his latest postcard in hand, staring at it for a long time while he thinks about what to write.
He wishes he was better at drawing, but he’s done his best to capture the night that he and Killua stood together on the beach in NGL, staring out at the grand cosmic sweep of stars as they sank slowly into the sea and faded into the pastel golden hues of sunrise.
Kite had been deeply asleep that night, or at least, he pretended to be, leaving them to be alone on the edge of the water. Gon had woken first in the early hours of the morning, from a bad dream he quickly forgot the details of, and he’d slipped away from where they were sleeping to quietly regain his hold of reality before attempting to sleep again.
But Killua had followed, within minutes, coming to stand silently by his side.
Sometimes he’d wondered if Killua ever slept at all. If he did, he was like the kind of restless cat that only seems asleep but stirs at the slightest sound or movement, always on alert for danger and predators.
“You okay?” he remembers Killua asking softly.
“Yeah,” he’d replied. “Just a bad dream, I don’t even remember it anymore.”
They hadn’t spoken much, but it had been comfortable just being together, watching the sky. For all its flaws, NGL had had one of the best views of the sky that Gon had ever seen. Even Whale Island suffered from light pollution from both the marina itself but also from the not-so-distant neighbouring cities, which glowed like diffuse beacons on the edge of the horizon.
He remembers turning to Killua once, to say something, but his words falling short as he watched the way the stars were reflected in Killua's wide eyes. There was a quiet awe there, as if Killua had never seen something as amazing and ethereal as the starry display before them. Then, when Killua switched his attention to Gon, the same softness remained in his expression, the edges of his mouth curving up in a fond smile.
"Beautiful, huh?" Killua said in a low voice.
"Yeah," Gon had replied, his gaze not leaving Killua, who'd then flushed, shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked back at the night sky.
It's one of the last happy memories he has of their time in the Mitene Union.
He thinks maybe this postcard, from this moment, is as close as he can ever get to that night. So many memories after this are tainted by the darkness that overtook him, by the rage that simmered below the surface all the time and the deep frustration with being so utterly helpless.
So this is the postcard he’s been building up to, he figures.
This is the one where he needs to say the things he hasn’t been able to, even if it feels a bit like cheating because he can have this one-sided conversation and say everything Killua was too upset to hear.
He just hopes one day that Killua might feel up to facing it, and that they might be able to try and work through everything together.
He can’t bring himself to use colours for this postcard, so he chooses a muted dark silver and steels himself to write the words.
Dear Killua,
I think a lot about that night. I guess you probably do too.
Maybe you already guessed this, but I lied to everyone when I woke up. I said I didn’t remember anything. It’s true I don’t remember much in detail, but I do remember pieces. I remember being in the forest, and I remember you being there. I remember you saved me from Pitou’s corpse - it cost me my arm instead of my heart. I know I hurt you badly, because you wanted me to stop and I didn’t listen.
I couldn’t see it at the time, it was like everything was at the end of this distant tunnel, and all the world was muffled. Every positive feeling I’d ever had was faded and colourless. It didn’t seem like I could feel much at all, except this twisting feeling of rage and a consuming desire to make Pitou pay for what she had done to Kite, no matter what it cost me.
I wish I’d been able then to make a different choice, the one you wanted me to. Deep down, I wanted that as well, but it seemed like there was no hope of any future beyond that point. It felt like it was over, and my purpose was to avenge Kite, and that was all. I traded everything for it. That was my redemption for being too weak to help him the first time. That was my punishment.
It was the wrong choice. I can see that now, in hindsight. There should have been a different way, and there could have been, if I had trusted you and confided in you. I’m sorry for what I did and what I said, I never wanted to hurt you.
I promise that I’ll try to do better next time - to be better, for you and for others. I want us to be able to find a different way, together. I hope we get a chance to.
Love,
(I guess that’s the right word)
Gon
This time, his eyes are dry but the weight of his words and his promise sit heavy with him.
Gon stays on the rock holding the postcard tightly in his hand until long after the sun has disappeared below the horizon, feeling the crushing regret of his past but forcing himself to hold on instead to the hope for a better future.
The stars twinkle distantly in the clear dark sky, and he wonders once again if Killua might be looking up at the same stars, somewhere beyond the horizon.
A shooting star streaks wide across the sky, searing bright against the relative darkness, and he wishes with everything he has that Killua’s doing okay (even if he’s still annoyed with him), and that he’ll get to see him again one day soon.
Notes:
Thank you BookNerdAO3 for seeding the scene of Gon x Love among the Ruins, that spawned entirely from your comment about Gon getting into poetry and romantic sonnets! <3 Voodie, that's my take for now on Gon's Nen following his healing, I don't think it'll be a big part of the remaining fic but we'll see - thank you also for the prompt to address that! :) The next chapter is finally time for us to leave this important yet sort of limbo space (!), and I'll try to get that done/posted within the next few days <3
Chapter 19
Notes:
I promised a change to the limbo state, and here we are! Forgive me XD Thank you again to everyone who has commented with your thoughts, I love hearing them and chatting HxH with you!!! <3 I hope you like this chapter and change of pace / where we might be going next!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Gon is forced to confess the situation with Killua when Knuckle asks directly whether he’s gotten any postcards lately.
His phone rings while he’s in the field training his Nen, so he pulls off the headset and answers the video call. This time, it’s Knuckle, Shoot and Meleoron checking in on him and how he’s doing, as well as giving him an update on the latest Hunter Association happenings.
“Uh,” he starts. “Well actually, I did, maybe a couple of months ago.”
“And?” Knuckle prompts impatiently. “How’s everything going with them?”
Gon hesitates.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I hope okay.”
He notices the look of understanding pass across Shoot’s face, but Knuckle and Meleoron look at him blankly, waiting for an explanation. They probably know about the phone call from Ikalgo and the others, but he hasn’t told anyone about the postcard Killua sent afterwards, severing the communications between them.
He bites his lip, knowing he has to fill in the gaps here. He sits down on the grass, placing the headset carefully on the ground next to him.
They need to know so they can let the rest of the Hunters know, because Gon was the only one who had been hearing directly from Killua in the months since they separated from the World Tree, and so they’d relied on him to tell them if anything Killua wrote suggested action might be required on their part.
“He said he was going to stop sending postcards,” he finally admits. “After the phone call, I guess talking to me just made everything a bit too much again, and he didn’t want to be in contact for now. I’m sorry, I can’t give any updates anymore.”
“Oh,” Knuckle says softly, his mouth downturning. “Sorry to hear that, Gon.”
It’s been long enough now that it doesn’t hit him as hard to be faced with it, but it’s still hard to face the fact that he has no idea when he’ll ever hear from Killua again, even with all his attempts to channel patience.
“It’s okay,” he semi-lies. “I promised I’d be fine with what he thought was best, and for now, that means being away from me.”
“I’m sure he’ll come around,” Shoot offers gently. “He probably just needs time.”
Time.
Yes, Gon is familiar with the concept, and he knows they both need time. But the relativity of it drives him crazy, because it has made the last few months feel like years.
“I really messed up back in East Gorteau,” he says with a forced laugh, though it sounds hollow even to his own ears. “I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me. I don’t even know if he still even considers us friends anymore.”
“Don’t say that, Gon!” Knuckle near-yells. “Of course he will! And of course he does!”
Shoot nods vigorously.
Meleoron is silent throughout the whole conversation. He’s not usually much of a talker when there are others around, but there’s something a little unusual about his quietness, and Gon's suspicion is validated towards the end of the call.
“Gon, stay on the line?” he says at last, when they start to wrap up. “You guys go.”
Knuckle and Shoot give him confused looks, but they obligingly leave the room.
“What’s up, Meleoron?” Gon asks nervously.
Meleoron makes a face, clearly debating whether to say anything.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” Gon adds helpfully.
“Mmm,” Meleoron says doubtfully. He sighs, then makes a determined expression.
“Okay, I just… I’ve wanted to tell you something for a while, and I’ve never really found a good way to bring it up. It’s about something he said when we were in the palace.”
Gon feels immediately anxious, because the look on Meleoron’s face is so solemn and serious, and he knows it can’t be good.
He waits for Meleoron to continue.
“Look, I-” Meleoron starts, then huffs in frustration. “You think he doesn’t consider you friends anymore, right? That maybe he doesn’t care about you?”
“I don’t know what he thinks of me,” Gon says. “He wouldn’t say on the phone, and then he got really upset, so…”
“He was planning to die with you,” Meleoron blurts out.
Gon’s blood freezes in his veins.
“What did you say?”
Meleoron shifts uncomfortably.
“I shouldn’t have let it go at the time. I was a coward, and he pretended it was a joke…”
“He joked about dying?” Gon asks, feeling sick.
Meleon looks down guiltily.
“There was a darkness in that place, and it hung over everything. I don’t think any of us expected to survive the night. That’s no excuse, I know. I should have said something. But the look in his eyes…”
He looks back up at Gon with a firm expression.
“Gon, he said that in the worst case, it would be shinjuu. You know what that means, right?”
Gon shakes his head slowly, unsurely.
“It means,” Meleoron continues. “That he cares about you more than just about anything in the world. That he was willing to die with you because he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it. He joked about lovers’ suicide... but he wasn’t kidding, Gon.”
Gon feels the tears prick at his eyes. He wants to deny it, to say Killua would never go that far. But the memories of that night, of Killua’s expression as he cried out to Gon, make the words die in his throat.
He remembers when he angrily shouted at Killua to stop him from trying to sacrifice himself to save Gon from the Phantom Troupe. And how mad Killua had been at him when he said it was okay for him to risk his life, but not for Killua.
He’d never considered the possibility that his choice to give up everything might have led to his friend following him into oblivion - he never wanted that for Killua.
“I wasn’t sure about telling you,” Meleoron says. “But I think you need to know, because there’s no chance in hell that kid doesn’t care about you. If anything, he probably cares too much - enough that it could destroy you both if you’re not careful.”
He shrugs.
“It’s up to you what you do with this, Gon. But don’t think for a minute that you’re not friends, or that he doesn’t care. One day, you probably need to figure out how you can be there for each other in a way that’s a bit less self-destructive.”
His eyes meet Gon’s meaningfully.
“Because I can’t think of anything more tragic for the two of you than shinjuu.”
He’s always hated this room.
From the time he was a small child first brought before his father, the room has always been a physical manifestation of all kinds of things he’d prefer to avoid: dark cold spaces, the smell of wet mold, being interrogated by his father, the threat of injury from one of the family hounds, the prelude to days or weeks of punishment.
He’s good at masking his feelings about it, but that doesn’t change the fact that he hates being in here and does his best to avoid ever being called upon by his father.
He has no idea how Illumi feels about the room, glancing sideways at his brother standing next to him, but then he generally has no idea how Illumi feels about anything.
Except Killua. His feelings about their brother are clear enough.
Silva is sitting in his normal spot, regarding them both silently. This is a familiar approach in Milluki’s experience, because their father enjoys the tension that builds and the anxiety that grows within those who stand before him. Everything is always a psychological game, and while it’s one he’s gotten better at playing, it’s still not something he overly enjoys.
“I want an update on the status of bringing Killua home,” Silva says at last, a look of displeasure on his face because they have both failed at the task thus far.
“I upped the bounty,” Milluki says helpfully. “That’s drawn out a few more Hunters of note, but no one has delivered anything useful in terms of locating and acquiring them since the last encounter with Illumi’s assassins.”
Silva’s eyes narrow dangerously, but before he can say anything, Illumi speaks.
“I have new information, and I believe this will inform a successful approach to convincing Killu to return,” he states neutrally.
“Go on,” Silva allows.
“I think pursuing Killu directly is futile,” Illumi continues. “He fought off all the assassins I contracted, and ultimately he has Alluka’s power as a last resort, even if he’s been reluctant to make use of it so far.”
“I know all this,” Silva says impatiently. “Get to the point.”
“I want your permission to make this my full focus until it’s done,” Illumi says plainly. “And approval to use any force necessary, including the risk of collateral damage, in bringing Killu home. I believe it will also require reinserting a needle into his head.”
Silva regards Illumi with a steady gaze, his expression giving little away.
Milluki shifts uneasily.
He’d never known until recently that Illumi had put a needle into his brother’s head, never really conceived that his was an ability he was willing to use on his own family. It came up because Illumi had returned in what was, for him, a flustered state one evening, seeming infuriated about something. It had been obvious enough on the cameras as he approached the mansion, and Milluki had wondered if an assassination had gone awry. Not that Illumi ever made mistakes like that, so it was even more unusual.
He’d shown up in Milluki’s room, demanding to know where Killua was currently.
“Uh… the last time his ID showed up was upon entering the Mitene Union,” Milluki said, referring to his database. “Why?”
Illumi was clearly still seething, his eyes narrowed.
“He removed a needle I placed in his head when he was a child,” he said flatly.
Milluki still remembers the shock he’d felt at that statement. Illumi had certainly spent the most time with Killua during his upbringing, training him and torturing him in order to build his resilience as an assassin. But implanting a Nen needle in him?
That was unexpected.
“A needle?” he’d asked slowly, wondering if he heard wrong.
“Yes,” Illumi snapped. “But he somehow figured it out.”
“What did the needle do?”
Illumi turned his vacant gaze to Milluki, in the uniquely-Illumi way that filled his insides with dread.
“It ensured his self-preservation,” he said simply. “If he encountered an enemy that he judged to be stronger than him, his instinct would be to flee rather than fight. This became necessary after the incident with Alluka, when he attempted to fight Father in order to stop us locking it away.”
“Right,” Milluki said, his mind still reeling. He remembered that time well, mainly because of the aftermath. Their father had been so furious at Killua’s insubordination that he beat him nearly to death, and then sentenced him to months of torture training at Illumi’s hands, demanding that the eldest Zoldyck sibling “fix him”.
It had never occurred to Milluki that Illumi’s version of fixing Killua would involve inserting a needle into his brain to exert control over his subconscious indefinitely. He’d later reflected on it and realised it was possible that this was done on their father’s orders, and he’d been able to confirm that with an offhand question at the time Killua left with Alluka.
“His mind doesn’t work the way ours do. That’s why you had Illu-nii use his needles on him, right?”
His father’s silence had been all the answer he needed.
The prospect of Illumi doing this again to Killua makes him feel a little uncomfortable, and he curses himself internally for his weakness. If Illumi judged this was what was best for the family, and for Killua, then it wasn’t his place to question.
“I would prefer he came back under his own free will,” Silva says at last, eyes steely.
“I am no longer convinced this will be possible,” Illumi returns calmly. “And the longer he stays away, the harder it will be to control him in the long term, is my assessment.”
Silva is silent again, considering.
“What has changed?” he asks. Milluki watches the slightly smug expression cross Illumi’s face.
“I recently became aware of an external weakness he has that I’d dismissed too quickly,” he says. “My judgement is that the answer to Killua’s return home lies in exploiting this softness of his heart, and using it against him in any and all ways possible.”
Milluki tries not to let his discomfort show.
Killua is a brat for sure, and sometimes Milluki hates him enough to wish he’d never come back. But he’s not sure he wishes this on his brother - being reduced to a puppet with a needle in his head. And he doesn’t think Grandpa Zeno would approve of the way his father and Illumi are talking about Killua, or what they are planning.
It’s always been clear that there is a ruthless streak that the two of them alone share, an ability to go beyond what most people would conclude was reasonable, and he sometimes wishes that he’d been around in the era of Zeno’s leadership of the family. Perhaps he was the same as Silva when he was younger, but there has always seemed to be a calm and moderate basis to his approach, and a lack of willingness to go too far.
Not to mention he has the world’s biggest soft spot for Killua, which is of course often a source of irritation.
“You have my approval,” Silva decrees finally. “Ensure it is done within the month, one way or another. I will split your assignments between myself and Milluki in the meantime.”
Milluki almost protests about the unfairness, but thinks better of it and closes his mouth again.
“I won’t disappoint you, Father,” Illumi says, his mouth twisting into a rare smile. Milluki suppresses the shudder that threatens to run through him. He’s never loved being scared of his own brother, but fortunately Illumi seems not to have picked that up or he probably would have used it against him.
Well, more than he already had when he tortured Milluki as a child, anyway.
He almost pities whoever is going to end up the target of Illumi’s new plan - the source of that so-called softness in Killua’s heart - because once his brother’s finished, there won’t be much left of them.
Notes:
So this chapter marks the beginning of the path to the end, and it's going to get a bit messy from here - I'll update the tags accordingly >_< It'll be a bit of a change from peaceful postcard life. But I swear we're heading to a better place long term! (eventually) Just to note that it's a little hard to guess exactly when my next update will be - I have surgery due to basketball life choices tomorrow, so will depend a little on when my brain surfaces sufficiently from that. Will try not to leave this hanging too long!!
Fun fact: I didn't entirely know how this would end when I first started posting chapters, it was rather nebulous (some pieces of the end were clear) - but I had the idea while driving to a basketball game, and I got so engrossed thinking about how it would play out that I missed my turn entirely!!! and only realised a few minutes later XD
Hopefully Milluki came across okay here - I would agree he generally has tendencies more towards Zoldyck than what I've depicted in this chapter, but I wanted to convey a sense of even him questioning things. Plus also, he kind of sometimes gets along with Killua in the anime so it seemed like maybe their relationship is not quite as dysfunctional as others in the family (though I recognise I have taken some liberties here!).
p.s. I learned about the "warning Zoldyck family" tag from Love_Letter, whose HxH "Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)" series is absolutely amazing and recently complete, and I highly recommend it!! Go check it out if you haven't already <3
Chapter 20
Notes:
I survived/am surviving surgery! Thank you for the thoughts and wishes, much appreciated ^^ It's been a bit of a weird couple of days, but it did give me a lot of downtime stuck in bed so I was able to get this chapter ready sooner than I expected :) Thank you to everyone reading along, commenting and giving kudos, I appreciate it so much!! <3<3 it helps heaps with motivation to get chapters done and out there :D Although perhaps not so ideal for the other things I should be doing instead XD I hope you like the chapter and the rather dark journey to dawn we are about to go on! ^^;
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
One afternoon, by habit, he finds himself at the mailbox, even though he knows there’s no chance of a postcard.
And he stops dead, staring at the figure standing at the end of the path.
“Hello, Gon,” Illumi says pleasantly, his eyes dull and his face as expressionless as always.
He says nothing, tensing for a battle he knows he can’t win, suddenly terrified - for his aunt, his great-grandma, everyone on the island, himself. There is nothing good that can come of Illumi being on Whale Island, he knows this to the depths of his bones.
He glances back towards the house, and thankfully Aunt Mito and Grammy Abe are nowhere to be seen. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Illumi.
“Whether they, or indeed anyone else on this island, live to see tomorrow is entirely up to you,” he says lightly, as if he’s talking about the weather instead of the fate of hundreds of lives.
“What do you want?” Gon demands through gritted teeth, his fists clenched. His Nen is completely masked by Zetsu, so he’s aiming to project a picture of physical fury. His only chance against Illumi would be to catch him by surprise, but even then, he’s not sure he can do enough to ensure the safety of everyone else. It’s too soon for his recovering Nen and he’s completely out of battle practice.
He’s not ready to face someone as strong as Illumi.
“I’d like us to spend some quality time together,” Illumi says. “Tell your family you’re going camping in the forest and make sure they don’t worry, or I’ll kill them. I’m half tempted to anyway, because I’m not a fan of loose ends, so do not push your luck.”
“I need to get my bag,” Gon says. “They won’t believe me if I don’t.”
Illumi studies him for several seconds.
“You have five minutes.”
He hurries inside, then slows himself once he is indoors to avoid arousing suspicion. True to his word, he gets his bag and packs it as if he is genuinely going camping, and he also attaches his fishing rod, hoping that Illumi will see it as a camping instrument and not for the weapon it can be.
He can’t think of anything else he can bring to fight Illumi with, and he suspects leaving a note would be too risky. He also knows he can’t get away with any verbal clues, as Illumi is certainly listening and looking for an opportunity to hurt his family.
On the way out, he yells that he’s going camping to train in the forest and hopes that’s sufficient explanation, but to his dismay, Aunt Mito appears from the kitchen holding a pot that she’s stirring.
“What do you mean, you’re going training?” she asks, slight confusion evident on her face. “For how long?”
His brain races to try and be as convincing as possible. He’s not done anything like this so far since being back because the island is small enough that coming home to his own bed is pretty much always preferable, so he knows it’s unusual behaviour.
“Maybe a few days,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “I really want to focus on getting stronger, and need to do it uninterrupted.”
He deliberately doesn’t mention Nen.
A small crease appears in Mito’s forehead. She knows he’s lying, and he starts to panic. He’s so scared of what Illumi might do to his aunt, and how powerless he will be to stop him. He’s reminded of what it felt like to watch Kite take a stand against Pitou, and how he very nearly got both himself and Killua killed in trying to do something, anything, to help.
“It’ll be fine,” he promises, meeting her eyes with a pleading look. “Just a few days.”
She looks at him, her eyes alight with concern, but nods.
“Make sure you take your phone and check in,” she says brightly, her voice revealing nothing of her worry. He nods, and opens his backpack to show his phone is in there.
“Thanks, Aunt Mito,” he says, forcing a broad grin, and runs out the door before the five minutes are up. He doesn’t trust Illumi not to do something just because he can’t keep to time.
Illumi is standing in the shadows of the trees, out of sight of the house to avoid being spotted by Aunt Mito who is peeking not so subtly out of the kitchen curtains. Illumi tilts his head in the direction he wants Gon to head, and so he obeys, his stomach feeling like lead.
Once they are several hundred metres into the forest, Illumi suddenly appears in front of him in a move that reminds him of Killua’s shadow step. It shouldn’t surprise him, he figures, given their similar upbringing, but it still unsettles him to see any reminder of his friend in Illumi, to be forced to acknowledge that the two could have anything in common. That traits he associated uniquely with Killua might have originated in his older brother.
Illumi starts to hum softly, and it’s the creepiest sound he’s ever heard in his life. Perhaps partly because it’s mixed with the threat of what’s to come, but it makes every step feel even heavier as they move towards an unknown destination.
Although his mind is racing with panic, he tries to calm himself enough to think clearly about the situation. They aren’t heading towards the marina, which means that Illumi doesn’t have any plans (yet) to take him away from Whale Island. Given the general direction they are moving, he thinks it’s towards the highest point on the island, perhaps near the volcanic vent that serves as the “spout” of the island’s whale shape.
At first, he worried about Killua and Alluka, but he quickly realised that Illumi’s presence here means they must be okay. There’s no interest he holds for Illumi other than in relation to Killua, and so this implies that Illumi has thus far failed to catch up with his friend. That doesn’t really make the current situation much less concerning, but he tries to take comfort in the fact that, for now, Killua and Alluka are safe.
He stares at the back of Illumi as they walk, wondering if it’s better to try and attack him sooner rather than later. He used to run headfirst into fights without a second thought, but he feels constricted by a fear he never knew before. More than anything he wants to run - to escape - because he knows what Illumi is capable of, but he can’t run because that would put everyone on the island in great danger. His only chance is to try and stop him, somehow, but their power differential is too great even with a surprise attack.
“If you’re thinking about attacking me, you should remember I’ve trained as an assassin my entire life,” Illumi comments without turning around or slowing his step. “Unlike Killu, I’ve committed to my calling, and if you give me a reason, I am more than happy to demonstrate my skills on your pretty little aunt and anyone else that means anything to you on this island.”
Gon says nothing in response and instead relaxes his fists, breathing out in defeat and resolving to wait for a moment when they are further away from his house. There’s a chance he could beat Illumi back home if it came to it, not that he thinks this would help a great deal unless he could hide his family somewhere. And magically evacuate the whole of Whale Island at the same time.
There’s a low warning growl from the trees up ahead, and Kon suddenly appears before them, rearing up on his hind legs with teeth bared. His best guess is that Kon has smelled the fear radiating from Gon, and is reacting defensively to that by recognising Illumi for the threat he presents.
Gon spies a glint of silver in Illumi’s hand, and dashes out in front to put himself between Illumi and Kon.
“No, please don’t!” he cries out. “He won’t do anything!”
Illumi lowers his hand, the needles still pointing dangerously at Kon.
“Get rid of the creature, or I will take care of it,” he says darkly.
Gon turns to Kon, nuzzling his face against the foxbear’s fur.
“Thank you, but you need to go,” he whispers. “It’s not safe. I’ll be okay - just stay clear of wherever we are and warn everyone else to as well, okay?”
Kon growls again, conveying his displeasure.
“Please, Kon, I don’t want him to hurt you,” Gon says softly. “He won’t hold back.”
Kon huffs, but then withdraws from him. He bares his teeth again at Illumi, hissing at him slightly, but then turns and pads grumpily back towards Snakebeech Forest. Gon realises he’s shaking with adrenaline and relief that Kon has managed to get away from them safely, because that encounter could have ended very differently if Kon or Illumi chose to attack instead.
Kon wouldn’t stand a chance against Illumi, any more than he would.
He turns back to Illumi, who gestures emotionlessly at the path ascending the island, away from the forest and towards the vent.
They walk in silence until they reach where he expected, the top of the island where the vent continuously spouts steam into the sky. The volcano is long since dormant by the standard classifications, but the spout has stayed active for centuries, playing a key role in the origin of the island’s name.
He briefly wonders if Illumi is just going to throw him into the spout to die, but instead he’s led around to the side where there are deep caves etched out over eons. Legends on the island claimed that some of the caves led to the core of the volcano itself, but in his childhood explorations he’d never found one that did.
The caves are certainly good places to get lost in, that much he knows, and even the tourists know better than to venture too far into their depths.
Illumi pauses at the entrance to one of the cave entrances, and turns back to him.
“Send a message to your aunt and tell her you are somewhere else,” he commands.
Gon unzips his bag carefully, trying desperately to control the slight shake in his fingers. He hates how the fear is consuming him, how the fact that he knows he can’t do anything to stop Illumi makes him feel cold and sick throughout his entire body. He never used to be scared of anything really, but now… most of all, he’s terrified about what Illumi’s endgame might be, because he knows it’s going to involve targeting Killua and he doesn’t want to be a part of that.
Forcing himself as steady as possible, he opens his phone and types a message to Mito. Illumi steps closer and watches what he types with a blank expression.
Hey, just to let you know, I’ll be camping out around the lake if you need to find me. Be back in a few days!
He hesitates before sending it, looking up to meet Illumi’s eyes to check he approves of the wording. Illumi inclines his head very slightly, and Gon presses send.
Then Illumi holds his hand out expectantly, accepting the phone from Gon. He promptly drops it on the ground and smashes it with his foot.
It’s silly, Gon knows, given the magnitude of the situation, but his chest tightens at the sight of the destroyed Beatle phone on the ground. That phone had been with him since York New City, through everything that happened after. It was the same phone that Killua and Leorio had as well, something that had connected them all across distance and time.
But suddenly it’s gone, just like that.
“There, now we can spend some time uninterrupted,” Illumi says, looking down blankly at the crumpled bits of metal and plastic on the ground. He turns back to the cave.
“Follow me.”
And Gon has no choice but to follow him into the darkness.
They haven’t walked very far into the cave when they reach a small, low-lit area, which Illumi has clearly set up as his base of operations.
Gon scans the area quickly, noting the bedding in the corner, the large black duffle bag next to it and a small stove with still-glowing coals in it that presumably Illumi has used to cook food. On the opposite side, there are chains hanging from the ceiling that Illumi has clearly drilled into the cave wall, with manacles attached to them, and similar manacles attached to the floor. There are a few LED lanterns scattered around to provide the dim light illuminating the hollowed-out cave.
It’s obvious immediately that Illumi has been on Whale Island for a while. Illumi seems to notice his realisation, watching his face steadily.
“Yes, I’ve been watching you for several days,” he says. “So I know all about your feeble attempts to recover your Nen, in case you weren’t sure of that.”
His stomach sinks in the knowledge that what he thought was his one trump card is now useless. It was a poor trump card anyway, since he can recognise well enough that the gap in their power is immense, but it was still something.
And now he has nothing.
“Take off your jacket and shirt,” Illumi commands.
“What?” Gon asks, confused. “Why?”
Illumi fixes him with a withering look.
“If you prefer, I can knock you out and do it myself.”
He shakes his head quickly, definitely not keen to be unconscious around Illumi, and pulls off his backpack, dropping it on the ground. The fishing rod clatters uselessly to the floor, and he thinks how foolish he was to believe he might have a chance against Illumi with something as simple as that.
He quickly unbuttons his jacket, and adds it to the pile. It isn’t necessarily cold in the cave, but it’s not warm either, despite the proximity to the volcanic vent. Hesitating a little, he pulls his shirt over his head as well and leaves it with the jacket.
“Good, now your shorts and shoes,” Illumi says.
He obeys reluctantly, left barefoot in only his boxers and feeling unnervingly exposed. He’s never been one to be self-conscious, not really, but this is different - standing mostly naked in a cave with his best friend’s murderous brother. It’s been pretty obvious from their arrival who the chains are intended for, but he still doesn’t understand why Illumi is doing this.
Illumi gestures towards the chains, and Gon walks over gingerly across the slightly sharp rocky floor. He obligingly holds his hands up as Illumi clamps the manacles around them, and doesn’t flinch as he then closes the manacles tightly around his ankles. He’s now hanging by his hands in the cave, and any prospect of escape is certainly gone. Not that he could anyway, while the threat to Whale Island’s residents is still hanging over him.
“I don’t know where Killua is,” he says coldly. “And even if I did, I’d never tell you.”
“Sure,” Illumi says mildly. “But that’s not the purpose of our time together.”
“Then what is?”
Illumi just shakes his head, apparently not willing to discuss his true intentions yet. He moves over to the duffle bag, and unzips it. Gon hears the sound of clinking metal and objects inside, and he guesses that the bag is filled with weapons of some kind.
But he’s already decided that he’s not going to give Illumi what he wants, no matter what it is. He’ll die before playing a role in hurting Killua, and inevitably that is what Illumi’s purpose is to do. He might not have Nen on his side this time, but he knows he’s capable of withstanding pain and stubborn enough to probably be able to outlast whatever Illumi is capable of inflicting.
At least, he hopes so.
“How much do you know about Killu’s upbringing?” Illumi asks, lifting his gaze from the bag so that his dark eyes settle on Gon.
He frowns. Killua had never really liked talking about his family or what they’d done to him, except when he could brag about it like in the case of his resistance to electricity. When it came to his actual childhood, he’d always skirted around the details, never willing to talk deeply or openly about what it had been like and generally passing it all off as a joke. And Gon had never wanted to press too much, because he could see it made Killua uncomfortable and he had been scared of pushing him away, of losing his best friend.
It was, of course, somewhat ironic that in his blind quest for vengeance, he’d ended up doing exactly what he’d always been too scared to do - pushing Killua out of his life seemingly for good.
“Not a lot,” he admits. “Only that he was tortured, and that your family are all batshit crazy to think that that’s a good way to raise someone.”
“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand,” Illumi says dismissively, looking down at the bag again. “You respect Killu’s strength, correct? You benefited from his ability to support you over the last two years, from all of the power and potential he contains within him.”
“Of course I respect his strength,” Gon says icily. “But his power is his own, not because of what you did to him.”
“That’s incorrect,” Illumi says lightly. “Most of his attack and defence power can be traced back to specific forms of training he grew up with. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to leverage the power of electricity without the electroshock treatment he went through. If Killu had grown up in any other environment, he would have ended up much weaker.”
“I don’t believe that,” Gon retorts angrily. “Killua is amazing, and he still would have been amazing even if he didn’t have an awful childhood with you.”
“I disagree,” Illumi shrugs, getting to his feet and walking towards Gon. “But in any case, part of our time together will be spent introducing you to some of our approaches, which perhaps will bring you closer to understanding Killu as a result.”
In other words: I’m going to torture you.
But that’s okay, Gon thinks. Illumi can frame it in whatever twisted way he wants to, but he’s not going to give in to him. His threshold for pain tolerance is high, and it skyrockets even higher when he’s set on defeating someone.
“I’m not scared of you,” he says, fixing Illumi with a determined look.
Illumi meets his gaze steadily, holding a long curved machete delicately in his hands. He runs a finger along the blade’s edge as though testing a kitchen knife, his expression neutral.
“Let’s see if we can change that.”
Notes:
sorrrrryyyy Gon >_< I hope I captured Illumi okay here! he's an interesting one to write... like, at least based on the 2011 anime, it's not like he doesn't say much, but he says it in such a flat and creepy way. Anyway! Honestly, I think Illumi probably would have actually taken Kon out without hesitation, but I couldn't bring myself to do that to the poor foxbear (or Gon). Um yes also I'm not an expert in torture unlike the Zoldycks so forgive me for my ignorance there (and let me know if you spot anything completely out of whack which is highly possible!) - same with the rest of the general fic because this has now become so many words that I am certainly going to forget something important or introduce a huge logic hole lol. Let's blame it on pain meds! XD oh yeah, and I know in most translations it's "Kil" instead of "Killu", but I kind of like the flow of Killu instead since it captures more of the original Japanese sound :)
Chapter 21
Notes:
I have updated the tags! Please check them over and accept my apologies for the next little while of Gon's existence >_< thx very much for following this fic and I really appreciate the comments so so much, also - almost 100 kudos! <3 :D in any case, we are on the path to the end!! I do not believe anymore that I have estimated a total of 28 chapters correctly and they are also getting longer soooooo XD but we'll get there!! ganbarimassuuuuu~
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He tries really hard not to give in.
Not to shout out.
Not to scream.
Not to cry.
But Illumi is a master when it comes to carving into him in exactly the right spots to draw out the most amount of pain. He tells him this as he makes each cut, describes the parts of his body that he’s targeting and how he’s optimising his incisions to hit the most pain receptors at once. How he’s also being careful to avoid major arteries so that Gon doesn’t simply bleed out and die.
Gon thought he knew pain, but he’s never known pain like this. He thinks again about what Killua’s childhood must have been like, and his cheeks feel wet with tears.
Or maybe it’s blood, he’s not sure anymore.
He tries to focus on Illumi, who has stepped back and is looking over him as if appraising his work. But his vision has become a bit blurry and the outline of Illumi swims in front of him.
“Hmm, I’ve gone a bit deep too soon,” Illumi says. “That’s regrettable. I got too carried away with you. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to have fun like this.”
“You’re insane,” Gon spits out.
“Perhaps, but there’s really no such thing as normal when you really get to know someone.”
Gon can feel the damp trickles all over his body where Illumi has cut him, and the throbbing where the deepest cuts are. He thinks even if he was free of the chains now, he probably wouldn’t be able to run. He’s kept upright by the chains holding him up, and his legs are so shaky that he feels he might be hanging only by his arms soon.
“You did this… to Killua?” he forces, trying to get angry instead of giving in to the pain. It’s starting to dull anyway, now that Illumi has stopped making new cuts.
“Oh yes, many times,” Illumi says, an almost fond tone in his voice. “So many of the patterns on his body, I gave him.”
Gon hates how proud Illumi sounds of this. He remembers how protective Killua was of the scars all over his body, how hard it was to convince him to wear lighter clothes even when the weather was so hot and humid you just wanted to melt into the floor.
He’d wear shorts because he reasoned that most people weren’t looking close enough to see the scars, and probably mistook them for light-coloured hair. And indeed, Gon hadn’t noticed them at first, not until he knew to look.
“My arms are a different matter. People notice those, and they make all kinds of assumptions. I don’t want the attention… or the pity.”
It was maybe as close as he’d ever gotten to Killua being honest about his upbringing, rather than his normal downplay of it. His scars were a visual and tangible reminder of what he’d been through growing up as a Zoldyck, something he preferred to keep hidden from the rest of the world.
He still suspects Killua only told him the truth about his assassin family when they first met because he fully expected Gon to dismiss it as a joke and not believe him, in the same way others had done.
People only like me because they can’t ever tell whether I’m serious.
The way Killua said that had sat uncomfortably with Gon at the time, even when he barely knew him, because he could tell right away he liked Killua for so many different reasons, and it seemed kind of sad for his new friend to reduce people liking him to something like that.
“I think we’ll switch weapons for now,” Illumi muses, walking back over to the duffel bag. “Any more blood loss could end up being a problem.”
Gon still can’t figure out why Illumi is here on Whale Island. If he wanted to kill him, then he’d be dead already. If he wants to use torturing him to draw out Killua, then it doesn’t make sense to be hiding in here with no one aware of what he’s doing. If he just wants to hurt Gon, then that’s something since maybe he really does hate him that much, but it doesn’t bring him any closer to finding Killua. And he’s already said he’s not trying to get information out of Gon.
Illumi returns, holding what looks like a metal bar with a blunt point at one end. He has also carried the stove closer and put it down at his feet, sticking the metal bar into it. Gon immediately realises what his plan is for the metal bar, as he listens to the hiss of the damp metal heating up against the coals.
“I can use this to seal some of the deeper cuts,” Illumi says. “So you can be grateful for that.”
“Why are you doing this?” Gon tries again. Maybe Illumi is feeling more like talking now. It’s not as if Gon can do much about whatever his plan is, from his position chained to the wall. But if he has more information, maybe he’ll be able to think of something to use against Illumi.
Illumi regards him stonily.
“My priority is, and always has been, my family,” he says. “I’m doing what is necessary to bring Killu home.”
“Hurting me won’t bring him home,” Gon says hotly, flinching as he pulls against the manacles. “We aren’t even in contact, he won’t know you did this.”
Illumi smiles, and it’s a cold, twisted line on his pale face.
“Oh, of course, you think he doesn’t want anything to do with you, because he’s staying away from you,” he says.
Gon is silent.
“Well, Gon, you’re not very good at understanding my little brother, it seems. I realised after his postcard to you just how much you mattered to him. I thought it was a passing phase, that you were just some tactile representation of rebellion for him. But it’s more than that, it seems, despite what I might have hoped. You are the key to getting him to return home and finally accept his responsibilities, and that is why I am here.”
Gon realises with a sinking feeling that the postcard from Swardani City was the first time Killua had used his actual name on the card, previously always signing with just initials and never using his or Alluka’s full name. The only other exception was the letter, but that had been protected with no chance of interception.
But Killua hadn’t been in a good state when he wrote that last postcard, and he must have forgotten to keep the anonymity. He’d been so upset about the phone call with Gon that he made a mistake, something Killua never did. And his paranoia had been founded after all, because Illumi had clearly been monitoring the mail systems watching for any sign of his brother, waiting for him to slip up.
It’s my fault.
Gon drops his eyes to the floor, the pit in his stomach growing. It’s his fault Illumi is here, it’s his fault that Killua is now more at risk than ever. Killua was right - they should never have been in contact in the first place.
“Cheer up, Gon. Consider what a great service you’ll be doing for the Zoldyck legacy. Killu has the most potential of any Zoldyck heir for centuries, and will likely be able to access generational powers that have been lost since some of the first Zoldycks. I won’t let him throw that away, or waste it on someone like you.”
“I don’t want to be part of any of that,” Gon says quietly. “I just want Killua to be free.“
“Freedom is an idealistic illusion,” Illumi says flatly. “You are always bound to obligations of some kind. He was most free when he embraced his true nature, rather than suppressing it and denying he’s not what he really is. Ever since he met you, he’s been pretending to be something he’s not.”
“That’s not true,” Gon retorts heatedly, wincing as he shifts too much against the chains. “He was finally able to be who he really was, away from your whole family trying to decide his future for him.”
He thinks back on how incredibly vulnerable the expression on Killua’s face can be sometimes, how young he looks when he’s not tense and alert waiting for the next attack. Of all the years stolen from him that Gon wishes he could give back, all the carefree happiness he deserved to have as a child but was denied because he happened to be born a Zoldyck.
“Is that what you think? No, Gon - it was all just one big game of pretend, even if you both believe otherwise. Even his supposed feelings for you, they’re not real. If you stay around each other, he’ll end up killing you, because you can’t keep up a facade forever. One day you’ll be dead by his hand. Not because of anything simple like hate or anger - but because he’ll want to know what it feels like, and that’s just who he is.”
“Killua isn’t you,” Gon hisses with narrowed eyes. He takes a deep breath against the wave of nausea that sweeps over him, as even this minor exertion of talking is taking a toll.
Illumi’s mouth twitches slightly, almost a frown. He pulls the metal bar from the coals, his face faintly illuminated by the dull red glow of the poker’s end. Even at a distance, Gon can feel the radiant heat emanating from it, and his stomach churns in unwanted dread.
“No, he’s not,” Illumi agrees, advancing towards Gon. “But I still know him better than anyone.”
“You don’t know him at all.”
“Your naivety is almost too much sometimes,” Illumi says, looking over Gon’s body as he steps closer. “Now, if you flinch away too much, I’ll be forced to hold you in place, so please try to stay still.”
He brushes the metal lightly against Gon’s chest, as if testing whether it’s hot enough, and Gon can’t stifle the cry as the burning hot poker sizzles against his flesh.
“Oh, but you can scream as much as you like,” Illumi says, his dark eyes cavernous voids. “We’re only just getting started, I have a lot more to show you.”
He shifts the poker to press against one of the deeper cuts in Gon’s side. Gon gasps, his breath choking in his throat, and Illumi takes this as a sign to push harder.
This time, Gon can’t suppress the scream.
Palm stares at the printed telegram message.
It’s Ron’s birthday soon and I have no ideas, need advice.
It’s from a terminal at Heavens Arena, anonymously, but it’s come straight to her and there’s only one person there that would have her telegram details, and they share an important personal connection.
So the question becomes, why would Wing feel the need to send a message so obscurely and deliberately get Gon’s name wrong?
She can partly guess why. It’s not safe to contact her, and he is clearly worried about communication channels being intercepted. She knows he’s been in regular contact with Gon over the last couple of months via the experimental Nen training headset, so it must somehow be related to communications he’s had recently.
Maybe, despite the progress he seems to have made, Gon has instead started to head down a concerning path. It seems unusual given how much better he has seemed to be doing (even in the absence of contact with Killua), but she’s not really sure what else it could be. But why that would warrant such a smoke-and-mirrors message is beyond her.
“What’s up?” Knuckle asks, looking up from his magazine.
“Not sure yet,” Palm says.
She covers her right eye immediately, waiting for the three images to form.
What she sees causes her to sharply intake her breath, and she feels Knuckle’s aura bristle defensively in response.
Chains. Blood, far too much of it. A pale face she recognises easily.
She drops her hand from her eye and meets Knuckle’s questioning gaze.
“It’s Gon,” she says urgently. “Illumi has him.”
“What?!”
“Get the others, we need to meet immediately. And we need to get in touch with Killua.”
Knuckle nods seriously, then rushes from the room.
Fifteen minutes later, they are a small disparate collection scattered around an oval table in one of the Association’s smaller meeting rooms. Palm sits at the head of the table as the lead of the meeting, and looks around at each of the people sitting there, each expression solemn and serious: Knuckle, Shoot, Morel, Knov, Meleoron, Ikalgo, Leorio and Kurapika.
“What’s the situation?” Kurapika prompts impatiently, never one to wait for an explanation.
“Illumi Zoldyck has taken Gon,” Palm says evenly, aiming to focus on facts to avoid feeling the panicked emotions rise within her. “They’re in a cave somewhere, presumably on Whale Island. It looks like Gon is being tortured, he’s hanging on chains suspended to the ceiling. He’s… not good, but he seems stable.”
She notices a glance exchanged between Leorio and Kurapika, and wonders why.
“We’ve got to get there right away!” Knuckle exclaims. “What are we waiting for?”
“Don’t be a fool,” Morel says gruffly. “We can’t run into this half-cocked. Illumi is not weak, and he’ll have contingencies.”
“Against all of us, though?” Shoot prompts. “Plus the element of surprise, since he doesn’t know we can see them.”
“I think we have to tread carefully,” Palm says. “We don’t know what his goal is, and we don’t want to put Gon or the residents of Whale Island at more risk.”
“Plus, we can’t do anything without involving Killua, right?” Ikalgo adds. “It’s his brother.”
Palm nods her agreement. They can’t necessarily wait too long, but she can’t imagine making a move against Illumi Zoldyck without first letting Killua know about the situation. At the very least, Killua knows the full extent of Illumi’s capabilities better than they do, and would offer critical intel to help them retrieve Gon.
She’s a little worried about how Killua might react, though.
“Where are they now?” Shoot asks. “How soon can we get to them?”
Palm covers her eye again, trying to study the environment around Killua and Alluka. They’re in a rural mountainous town of some kind, walking through a marketplace, but she doesn’t recognise it or the landscape. Both are covered up in semi-disguise, Killua’s white hair pushed under a baggy cap and Alluka’s hair swept inside a silk scarf. Killua’s arm is around Alluka, holding her close to him as they make their way through the crowded market.
She hates to think of the impact this will have on Killua, when he is already carrying so much burden in protecting his sister from their family.
“I don’t know,” she admits. “I can’t tell this time.”
“I’ll work with Palm to figure out the location,” Kurapika offers. “My geography of the continents is pretty comprehensive, I’m sure we’ll be able to track them down.”
“How long can we afford to wait?” Meleoron asks sombrely.
Palm hesitates, thinking of the extent of injuries she can see across Gon’s exposed body.
“It doesn’t seem like Illumi’s in a rush,” she says finally. “I think we have at least a few days.”
“But Gon is suffering!” Leorio interjects angrily. “We can’t just sit around!”
“Be calm,” Knov says, pushing up his glasses. “We absolutely cannot rush this, as tempting as it is. Illumi left a massacre of dozens of Hunters without a second thought last time, and I have no doubt he’d do the same on Whale Island if prompted. Whether or not he expects us to find out, he will have considered this option, and like Morel said - he’ll have contingencies. We don’t want to trigger him too soon, not until we know we can win.”
Leorio frowns unhappily, but nods his reluctant acceptance.
“So what next?” Ikalgo asks, looking back to Palm.
“I’ll work with Kurapika to identify the location of Killua. Once we do, depending on how far and the mode of transport, a subset of us will go there and inform Killua, and seek his advice with next steps. It’s probably too dangerous to head to the island directly at this stage, so let’s aim to regroup in Dolle Harbor within the next day or so. In the meantime, I want everyone to do as much research into Illumi Zoldyck as possible, and try to come up with a theory for why he’s on Whale Island and why he has targeted Gon, as well as completing a census of his known abilities. Plus, look over the geography of Whale Island, so we can try to identify the location that Illumi has taken Gon. Leorio - please inform the Zodiacs of the situation, but do it in a way that does not convey any sense of alarm. We don’t want them or the Association getting involved.”
Eight heads nod back at her.
“Keep an eye on him?” Leorio asks, in a way that shows he knows it’s a pointless question, because she couldn’t imagine doing much else. “In case anything changes.”
Palm nods.
“Of course. Let’s use this room as the main base of operations for now until we know more. Knov, can you get us Association hardware to use for research?”
Knov nods once and leaves the room to sort it out.
Kurapika suggests the two of them move to the Association’s library, so that they can reference any books if needed as well as make use of the internet. She nods her agreement, and they make their way there in silence, leaving the others to work on the rest of the investigation.
Notes:
well Illumi is a bit of a psycho so that's been kind of interesting/tough to write ^^; Did you see the postcard thing coming? I hinted at it a couple times after with comments Gon said :) I figure Illumi could have had some kind of catch-all filter for the names Killua and Alluka, so previously they had managed to stay under the radar... but not that time! As for Wing, well you can probably guess how he found out in order to be able to communicate it with Palm, and yes the headset was involved! I'm bringing Kurapika back into this because despite his whole rage-quit quest to find Kurta eyes, I think he would still surface if it came to something like this happening with Gon. It always seemed weird to me that he didn't when Gon was like, basically dying... but then it felt like he also didn't really know? Maybe??? Kurapika dude, what you doing with your life T_T
In terms of timing btw, I might not have it perfect, but this chapter is roughly late April 2001, and my understanding (poor as it may be) is that they don't all get on the great ship Black Whale until August 2001. So consider it "stuff that happened in between" though I acknowledge it could be considered canon-divergent :/ let me know if I should add that tag, I'm trying to keep it canon-aligned if I can! And if anything is grossly misaligned with what happened with all the princes etc let me know please! I read somewhere that Leorio (and in turn, Kurapika) got Zodiaced in ~December 2000 (not 100% sure how they drew that conclusion) so I've been working based off that.
p.s. sorryyyyyyyyyy Gon T_T
Chapter 22
Notes:
Here's one for the Kurapika fans out there! Well, there is a bit of Kurapika anyway :) I was reminded of just how clever he is in watching some of the 1999 anime, and yeah I really miss the dynamic of the core four from back in Hunter Exam times - it was a nice one! Meanwhile, I blink and suddenly it seems like there will need to be more chapters to wrap all this up haha but I think equilibrium is being approached XD Thanks so much for all the comments (and kudos/bookmarks - it's so nice to know people like this still!!), I'm really enjoying chatting with you all about HxH - it's fun to be sharing this fic with you and hearing your thoughts <3<3 so if you're following along, thank you!!! continue to forgive me please, there's a light over there but we're deep in the tunnel for now... >_<
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Palm has never really been sure what to make of Kurapika.
They’ve barely interacted so far, and only really crossed paths a few times since he agreed to join the Zodiacs. There’s an odd mix of youth and age within him, and he’s one of the most closed-off people she’s ever met. Her best guess is significant past trauma, which has also been hinted at by Leorio, but she doesn’t know the details and doubts Kurapika will feel like sharing in the near term.
Given the dark cloud that seems to hover over him, and the perpetual state of weary that he appears to exist in, she’s not sure she ever does want to find out. But to his credit, he dropped everything immediately when he found out about Gon, and it’s been clear from his attitude that this is going to be his top priority until they’ve rescued Gon from Illumi.
Honestly, it kind of surprises her, because she’d heard from Knuckle that apparently Kurapika never showed up when Gon was nearly dying, despite Leorio trying to get in touch. But maybe he has his reasons, or maybe things are different now. Either way, he’s here and she can tell he wants to do everything he can to help Gon.
They take a seat in the back corner, in a sunlit part of the library away from the other Hunters scattered around.
“Okay, let’s start with the description of the town you saw,” Kurapika suggests. “Can you describe what it looks like, the architecture, season, landscape, and so on?”
She covers her eye again, trying to focus on Killua and ignore what Illumi is currently doing to Gon. It’s never been a problem before to see all three Wink Blue targets at once, but suddenly she wishes she could view only one at a time. She bites her lip, steeling herself to answer Kurapika's questions while keeping Wink Blue active.
“Uh, it’s daytime but overcast,” she starts, knowing that is hardly the most useful observation. “People are wearing long sleeves generally, so maybe autumn or winter in terms of season. The street they’re on is pretty hilly, the ground looks to be paved, there are stalls either side, and buildings behind them.”
“Great,” Kurapika says. “What are the buildings made of?”
“Hmm… maybe mud brick? They look solid, but it’s a smooth construction? Some of them are normal brick but most of them look smooth.”
His questions rely on her fixating on details she normally doesn’t pay attention to, but then, she supposes that is the point in this case.
“Okay, and the roof of each building?”
“Some are tin, some look more like tiles… They’re all pretty sharp-angled though, that’s a bit unusual I suppose.”
She finds herself a little frustrated with her apparent lack of perception. She has never been one to notice the details of a building’s roof, and yet Kurapika seems to recognise this as an important aspect.
“Are there trees visible?”
“Some, there are a few different kinds. The most common kind has white trunks and thin dangling leaves. All of the trees have leaves, so maybe it’s not winter after all.”
“Right,” Kurapika says thoughtfully. “Can you describe the clothing of the people?”
“It varies, mostly quite dark colours, they look pretty functional…” she trails off in slight annoyance. “I’m not very good at describing clothing, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Kurapika says. “I think I know which continent they’re on already, and the lack of any distinctive clothing styles supports that.”
“Really?” she asks, dropping her hand in surprise. “Where?”
“I think they’re in the Begerossé Union,” he says. “It’s currently approaching winter there, but their winters are mostly quite mild across the continent. Some of the more mountainous areas have snow at times, which would explain the sloped roofs you see, and their native trees are evergreen, so they don’t lose their leaves at any point. Mud brick constructions are pretty common, not exclusively to that region but combined with your other observations, I’m fairly confident that’s the right continent, and it also matches the time zone given it’s also daytime there now.”
“That’s impressive, Kurapika,” Palm says genuinely. He flushes slightly, and looks away.
“I studied a lot,” he says. “It’s really nothing.”
He gets to his feet.
“I’ll grab a couple of regional guides to Begerossé Union and we can try to narrow down the town. But my guess at the moment is probably Nova Cymru, in the Blauweberg region. The mountainous ranges where you get snow are in the west of the continent, and if it was too far south there’d be snow already, and the north is closer to the tropics, so Nova Cymru seems like a likely starting point being in the middle.”
“I restate how impressed I am,” Palm says. “I’ll be sure to keep your exceptional skills in mind for future.”
The ghost of a pleased smile flickers across Kurapika’s face, then he disappears to the relevant section to find the right books.
This leaves Palm alone with the immediate compulsion to check (again) on Gon, so she does so. It seems like little has changed in the meantime, although there are new injuries that have appeared in the time since she last looked closely. Illumi is holding what looks like a whip, and there are flashes of reflected light along its length as he swings it, suggesting the presence of metal. Gon flinches with every hit, but still seems to be conscious and not completely overwhelmed by the pain.
She grits her teeth and lowers her hand, unable to keep watching.
She wonders again why Illumi is doing this, and whether they’re playing right into his hands by tracking down Killua. But if he’d wanted Killua’s attention, he could have gotten it himself, couldn’t he? Or has he somehow guessed that Gon might be monitored and that the Hunter Association has a link to Killua, and he’s using them to bring Killua to him? That seems unlikely since they’ve been very careful, but if Illumi somehow found out they’d met with Killua in Swardani City, then the logic leap isn’t as large. That means they probably need to be extra careful about Killua going near Illumi in the near term, in case this is Illumi’s true goal.
Of course, it’s plausible that he just wants to hurt Gon, but that could mean his end goal is still to kill Gon once he’s satisfied that he has hurt him enough, and that puts a more significant time pressure on their locating Killua and intervening.
Before she can dwell on that much longer, Kurapika returns with a stack of books.
“I think we’ll be able to figure it out to within the correct town based on these,” he says confidently.
“Great,” Palm says absently. “The sooner the better.”
A flash of concern passes across Kurapika’s face at her words, and he glances at the crystal on her forehead, then takes a seat next to her and opens the first book to a central map page.
“No time to waste then,” he says, but his smile is only a thin line and doesn’t reach his eyes.
She follows his lead and forces her attention back to the task at hand, hoping that they won’t be too late.
He’s not sure how long it’s been now.
A day? Multiple days? Could it have possibly been just hours?
Time is passing strangely, and his mind is feeling clouded and murky. This seems to please Illumi, and he can only conclude that it must be because he’s enjoying seeing the impact his torture is having.
He’s lost track of which weapons and instruments of torture he’s been “introduced” to now.
After the poker, there was the serrated blade, the sharp-pointed needles, the flat metal club…
Most recently, the razor-edged whip which drew cries from him against his will every time Illumi snapped it against his skin.
There have been breaks here and there, and occasionally Illumi has forced him to drink water, so he thinks that some considerable time must have passed. He doesn’t think he’s ever slept though, because even when he feels close to drifting off, he finds himself shifting unconsciously such that reminders of the injuries stab through him, and he’s jolted awake again.
His body is in agony in a way it’s never been before, and the only experience he can liken it to is the way it felt when he traded the last of his power to pulverise what remained of Pitou’s corpse. But then, it had been a blinding white pain of incredible intensity for just a short time, not drawn out like this, with the oscillation between the immobilising peaks induced by Illumi and the painful but duller troughs between.
He threw up all the contents of his stomach some time ago, from the combination of intense pain and nausea.
Now, Illumi is walking towards him with two sharp metal clips, or maybe there are two Illumis, he’s not quite sure of that.
“It took me ten days with Killua,” he remarks. “I didn’t think you’d get close to that, but it’s been almost two days and you’re still coherent. I’m surprised, Gon Freecss.”
Ten days for what?
His foggy mind grabs the thought loosely, then lets it go again.
“Unfortunately, I only have a limited supply of battery storage here in this cave,” Illumi says. “If we were back home, I could do this a lot more effectively, but we’ll have to go for short intense bursts to make the most of it.”
Battery storage? In this cave? Why is he talking about batteries…?
He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Illumi attaches each of the two clips just above Gon’s hips, and he grits his teeth against the pain of the metal digging into his already raw skin.
“It’s important with electroshocks to consider the path through the body,” Illumi states, sounding strangely like his teacher giving a physics lesson. “If I sent the electricity across your heart at too high a current, it would just kill you instantly.”
He makes it sound like Gon should be thanking him, but he guesses Illumi is probably planning to kill him in the end, anyway. Maybe this is just the prelude to using his death as a motivator to get Killua to give up. He can’t understand why all the torture is necessary, though.
His brain throws back the lost thought from earlier.
“Ten… days… for what?” Gon rasps, his throat hoarse and painful. Illumi cocks his head to the side.
“Oh, well, I suppose there’s minimal harm in you knowing,” he says lightly. “Ten days before he was sufficiently physically and mentally weakened for me to be able to insert a needle into his brain.”
Gon’s blood runs cold, even as it seeps out of him sluggishly.
A needle?
Gon knows about the Nen zombies that Illumi is capable of creating, having heard the stories. But it sounded like those people were already doomed to a horrific death. There was no saving them, because the Hunter Association had tried. Even the ones that survived to the end were mindlessly trying to complete the missions Ilumi had given them forever, without sleeping, eating or stopping, and eventually they all just died anyway.
But Killua wasn’t a zombie, he had free will. He was nothing like those people. He didn’t have a needle in his head… did he?
Illumi is watching him curiously.
“You know, you don’t have a very good poker face,” he says. “Every emotion you feel passes across that face of yours, and completely gives you away. You’d make a terrible assassin.”
“Good,” Gon mutters, mind still trying to process what Illumi means about Killua.
“You didn’t know,” Illumi says out loud, sounding amused. “Well, perhaps it’s not a surprise he kept it hidden from you, given how much else you’re unaware of.”
“You… put… a needle… in Killua?” Gon grinds out, trying to force as much anger into his damaged voice as he can.
“Well, yes, but he took it out,” Illumi laments. “And I can only speculate that it must have had something to do with you, because it would have required an immense amount of mental divergence to even realise it was there, and then he had to physically pull it out, which I can’t imagine was pain-free. No one’s ever done it before, so I have no previous data to compare against. It’s something I’ll have to discuss at length with him, once he has returned home.”
“He’ll never go home with you,” Gon vows, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Perhaps not totally willingly,” Illumi concedes. “But with you helping me convince him and perhaps a little convincing himself, I’m sure he’ll see the light.”
“I won’t help you, not ever,” Gon hisses.
“Let’s see how you feel after a bit more time together,” Illumi says, kneeling down next to a large battery, from which the wires connected to Gon originate.
With cold eyes as dark as pits fixed on Gon, Illumi flicks the switch, and the cave lights up with icy-blue electricity, setting every nerve ending in Gon on absolute fire.
For the first time, he feels himself giving in to unconsciousness, and unlike before, he kind of welcomes it - which scares him more than anything Illumi has done so far.
“That’s it!” Palm exclaims, pointing at the image of the town in the book in Kurapika’s hand. “It matches!”
“Castlereagh,” Kurapika confirms, a genuine smile breaking through his pale features. “Excellent, let’s go tell the others.”
They hurry back to the meeting room to share the news.
“I’m going,” Ikalgo says, unsurprisingly. She expected as much.
“Castlereagh is about half a day by airship - it’s not far inland from the nearest port of landing,” Palm says. “All that’s really needed in this case is subtlety and avoiding detection.”
Meleoron shrugs, raising his hand.
“That’s probably a case for me to help, then,” he says.
“I’ll go too,” Knuckle volunteers. “I can provide some combative support.”
“Okay, good,” Palm agrees. “The three of you should leave as soon as possible, book the next airship you can. The rest of us, we need to decide who heads to Dolle Harbor and who stays. We’ll aim to depart in the morning, and in the meantime prepare as much as we can to face Illumi.”
“Oh, Wing wants to know if he and his student can help in any way,” Knov adds. “He says they’ll leave Heavens Arena immediately if necessary.”
“Mm,” Palm muses. “It’s probably best to have them as a contact point for Gon’s aunt in case she needs to get in touch again, right?”
They’d figured that it must have been Mito who raised the alarm with Wing, making use of the headset and presumably aware from Gon that the channel was secure enough. What was curious in all that was that the headset had worked for Gon’s aunt, and Palm wonders if that means she has access to Nen herself or whether the headset is programmed to work even in the absence of a user’s activated aura.
“I agree,” Morel nods. “In case anything escalates on Whale Island, she could let Wing know and then he can contact us directly. I believe it’s safe enough to use more normal channels once the mission is in progress and as long as we avoid mentioning any obvious keywords like names.”
“Should we contact Biscuit?” Knov asks. “She’d probably want to know the situation, given she mentored them directly.”
“Hmm,” Morel says. “She’s still deep undercover in Zaban City, I think it’s too risky to get in contact. We’ll just have to fill her in after.”
After further deliberation, it’s decided that Morel and Shoot will stay in Swardani City to provide remote support as well as communicate directly with Wing, while Palm, Knov, Leorio and Kurapika will head to Dolle Harbor on the early morning airship. Knuckle, Meleoron and Ikalgo manage to get tickets on the airship bound for Begerossé Union departing in an hour, and leave immediately to grab their things.
With any luck they’ll have found Killua and Alluka by the following morning, Palm thinks, or at least by midday, and then they should all be able to converge on Dolle Harbor by the afternoon, make a plan and then get to Whale Island by the following morning.
Just under two days, and hopefully they’ll have been able to rescue Gon from Illumi.
Only another couple of days, Gon, she thinks, or maybe she prays, she isn’t sure.
Please hold on until then.
Notes:
So I hope I am capturing Palm okay! Like I've said before, I feel like she did come out differently after being Chimera-Anted, and I like the more strategic, calm and nuanced version of her compared to before that. So I'm leaning into that, but hopefully not verging into OOC land.
Re: Kurapika, like he must surely feel bad about being totally AWOL during Gon's near-death experience regardless of his reasons, so... yeah. Here he is, showing up this time :) meanwhile I wish I'd planned a little better and had a more obvious way to incorporate Bisky, but sorry, she's gonna stay on her secret mission for now. There's probably treasure involved, so she's happy enough.
I am pretty sure Gon doesn't know about the needle that was in Killua's head - Killua never told him, and maybe didn't tell anyone? I can't exactly remember if there were incidental revelations. But for the purposes of this fic, it comes as a big shock to Gon to find out about the needle, and that Illumi is capable of putting needles in people's heads without turning them into zombie mush. And yeah I am inventing some conditions around how it works, I hope that comes across believable enough! (let me know if anything diverges from known canon things)
maybe Illumi's endgame is becoming clear now *cue ominous music*
Random sidenote, I took a deep dive into the rabbit hole of timing (I'm still not sure I have climbed out of that), but it means I can now tell you that this chapter takes place on Saturday, 14th April 2001. Yep it's gotten that specific. I even needed to look up moon phases! XD I also tried to keep the Begerossé Union description as accurate as possible too haha. For the most part anyway!
This chapter is a little bit background progress but it's gonna be a lot of action from here so fasten your seatbelts and let's hope the best for Gon <3
Chapter 23
Notes:
I am starting to see the proper end of this fic in sight, which is very exciting :) Can't say exactly how long it will take us to get there, but I *think* the 32 chapter estimate should be roughly correct. However, the chapters are probably going to get longer lol XD Starting with this one! Thank you again if you're reading this fic, and especially for the comments, I love hearing your speculations on what will happen next and appreciate the support very much!! <3
Also, a hugest grateful and flattered shout-out to sxrah_twt for the fantastic artwork depicting Gon in the cave, please check its awesomeness here: Postcards - inspired artwork - thank you so much for this, and I am really looking forward to seeing more of your amazing HxH art, esp in relation to "Postcards"! <3
PSA: sorry to the Americas, but if you're most places elsewhere in the next few hours (e.g. from 17:30 UTC on 7th September), don't forget to check out the total lunar eclipse!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Patience only gets you so far
Blood will get you further
Pain will only make your heart hard
Tossed in furious weather
Innocence is beautiful to see
Won’t you box it up for me?
For me?
“Burn Out” - Imagine Dragons
The knock on the door comes without any preceding noise, and that immediately sends Killua into high alert. No one should have been able to get that close without him hearing their approach, so there’s something highly suspicious about the knock.
Alluka makes a start toward opening it, but he holds up a hand and shakes his head. She pouts, but sits back down on her bed and crosses her arms.
He silently approaches the door, glancing through the peephole and seeing nothing. Ready to activate Godspeed at the slightest provocation, he gently opens the door, but there’s no one there.
Confused, he steps out into the hallway and looks around, but there’s no one nearby. The nearest people he can hear are downstairs in the tavern’s lounge area, drinking coffee or playing cards. It’s the middle of the morning, and a considerable number of the inn’s temporary residents are still sleeping.
He only vaguely remembers what a sleep-in feels like, but after so many months of being on alert and on the move, even decent sleep is quite a distant memory.
Well, the nightmares don’t help, of course, but there’s not much he can do about those.
Especially with the more pressing matter of the mysteriously isolated knock, and whether it presents enough of a threat that they should be on the move again. He comes back into the room and closes the door, a sudden understanding dawning on him.
“Meleoron?” he ventures, getting ready to attack if his hunch turns out to be wrong.
But his suspicion is confirmed when suddenly, out of nowhere, three new arrivals are standing in the middle of their room.
Meleoron gasps for breath, while Knuckle and Ikalgo step away from where they’ve been holding on to him.
“Wow!” Alluka exclaims, clearly excited for new people that Killua isn’t immediately stopping her from interacting with. “You came out of nowhere.”
But as quickly as he feels joy at seeing the Hunters before them, it rapidly dissipates.
There can’t be any good reason they’re here, and for all of them to come at once must be serious. He kind of hopes it’s another case of “Gon needs to talk to you” - and maybe it’s time for them to try again, because he still feels bad about completely cutting off from Gon - but from the expressions on their faces, he knows that’s not true.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, dreading the answer but needing to know it all the same.
There’s a brief silence, and all three look at each other. It seems they hadn’t agreed on who would be the one to tell him whatever it is.
“Maybe sit down,” Knuckle suggests carefully.
“I’m good standing,” Killua says, eyes narrowing, a light crackle of electricity running over his body in response to the growing tension. “What is it?”
Ikalgo steps forward, his eyes regretful.
“Keep a level head,” he advises, before drawing in a breath.
“... Illumi has Gon.”
Killua feels like he’s been punched in the chest, and then dunked in icy water. He stands there for what seems like an age, staring at Ikalgo as he tries to process the words, knowing he’s doing a poor job of stopping the turbulent emotions from spreading across his face. He’s vaguely aware he’s not breathing, but this seems like a minor issue.
He can feel Alluka’s concerned gaze on him, curses himself for being too weak again in front of his sister, but there’s nothing he can do about it this time.
Why didn’t he think of this? How did Illumi even know to go after Gon? What could have changed to suddenly put Gon in Illumi’s crosshairs?
He thought that by staying away from Gon, his friend would be safe. Sure, it wasn’t the only reason he was avoiding being near Gon, even if he wouldn’t admit that out loud. But it seemed like the safest route, to have Gon far away so that he didn’t get drawn into the Zoldyck family drama. He could focus on protecting Alluka, figure out what to do about his family, and not have to worry about Gon getting hurt or doing something stupid to try to help.
Illumi knew he cared about Gon, knew Killua’s desire to be Gon’s friend and that he’d been willing to reveal the secrets of Alluka and Nanika’s power to save him, but he figured if they’d parted ways, Illumi would assume that Killua had been repaying a debt and they were done.
Illumi didn’t know the details of what they’d been through, or the lengths Killua had gone to in order to remain at Gon’s side. He didn’t know the confessions he’d once made on Whale Island, that night under the stars, the promises they both made to stay together - even if these seemed now like the naive hopes of children, given everything that came after.
He didn’t know how Killua really felt about Gon.
How could he? Illumi was incapable of love, he didn’t care about anyone. Their father had twisted him into this shell of a person from the moment he was born, the “perfect son”, and all he did now was obey and manipulate. All he knew how to do was spread pain and hurt.
“Killua?” Ikalgo prompts nervously.
He blinks, and forces his attention back to the three Hunters in front of them, pushing down the feeling of weakness rolling over him like a wave.
“When?” he asks faintly.
“We don’t know exactly, maybe a couple of days,” Knuckle admits.
Killua’s mind races.
“Where are they? What’s Gon’s state?”
“A cave on Whale Island is the current theory, we’ve been researching likely locations,” Ikalgo says. “Palm says he’s stable from what she can see, but Illumi has been torturing him. We don’t know why he took Gon, we thought maybe he might have information about you, or at least Illumi thinks he does. Or he’s using him to get to you, somehow.”
“Gon doesn’t know anything,” Killua says angrily, mostly to himself.
“Nii-chan,” Alluka says, her eyes wide and frightened. “Is Gon going to be okay?”
Her voice is grounding, and it makes him remember where he is and who he needs to be.
“Yes,” Killua says firmly. “He’ll be fine.”
He bites his lip, clenching his fists and forcing a steadying breath before focusing on his sister.
“I’m sorry, Alluka, you know I hate to do this… but can you ask Nanika to come out please?”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says, brow furrowing. “We want to help, of course.”
He knows that, he does. But there’s still a lot they don’t know about Nanika’s power, or how it relates to Alluka, or what the true cost of it may be one day, even if it seems like there’s no cost now under the right conditions. With so many unknowns, it’s incredibly risky to roll the dice, and the three of them have all agreed on that.
And more than that, he vowed to never use his sister the way his family wanted to, as if she were just some kind of tool to be controlled in the same way Illumi wanted to control him. He doesn’t want her to ever feel the way he felt growing up, expected to accept orders without question and feeling like there was no way out, that this was the life he had to lead and all he was ever born for was to become a Zoldyck assassin.
It’s not something he likes to think about, but finding out what Illumi had done to him, with the needle, made him feel deeply violated in a way that none of the years of Zoldyck family torture had ever come close to. That Illumi was capable of getting inside his head, twisting his thoughts and feelings in order to manipulate his actions, made him start to question his very existence.
What if there was still a needle in there that he didn’t know about? Could he ever trust what he thought and felt again? What if his entire life had been about living out secret orders in his subconscious put there by Illumi that he didn’t remember being issued? What else would Illumi make him do one day, what terrible acts might he force him to carry out against his will?
It was the reassuring feeling in his chest of just how much Gon meant to him that was an anchor in his doubts and fears, something he could call upon when he was starting to sense the onset of a panic attack. There was no way Illumi would approve of his feelings for Gon, he’d made that very clear, and so as long as he could hold on to those, as long as he could still look within himself and see Gon deep in his heart, he knew he was mostly okay.
Protecting Gon had been the reason he was able to break free in the first place, after all.
“Killua,” Nanika says happily, moving forward to hug him around the waist.
The Hunters stare at her, having only ever heard vague details about his sister’s other half. Even now, he still doesn’t know exactly where Nanika came from, or whether she’s a truly separate entity to Alluka. They’ve been so busy staying ahead of Illumi and his assassins that there’s been no time to try to investigate this in any meaningful way.
And honestly, Kurapika was always the one better at research of the four of them.
The best he’s been able to do is ensure that Nanika hasn’t granted any requests, so that Alluka doesn’t feel compelled to make demands of people they cross paths with. Which means it’s currently safe for Alluka to be around people, although they’ve had a few close calls over the past months.
“Hey, Nanika,” he says softly, stroking her head. “Can I ask you a favour?”
“Ai,” she says with a wide grin.
He glances back at the others.
“Where do we need to go?”
“Dolle Harbor is where everyone else has headed to,” Knuckle says. “We’ve got a specific safe house that we’re planning to meet at, so probably that would be the best location. Not sure if the others will have made it there by now, but it seems likely.”
Killua nods.
“Ikalgo, Meleoron, can you grab the two bags there?” he asks, gesturing at the corner of the room.
They’re already packed and ready to go, that’s something he’s always insisted on during their travels. Alluka complained at first, but then eventually begrudgingly accepted it since it meant that Killua didn’t get a chance to generate the amount of entropy he was usually capable of. He still managed to make a mess of the rooms they stayed in, but at least their belongings weren’t mixed in with his clutter.
Once the bags are retrieved, he scans around the room quickly, to make sure there’s nothing else. He pulls some Jenny notes out of his pocket, drops them on the nearby dresser and then turns his attention back to Nanika.
“Can you please transport all of us to the location that Knuckle describes, in Dolle Harbor?”
“Ai,” Nanika chirps happily, looking over at Knuckle.
“The location is the log cabin near the Lone Pine Tree, on the hill near Dolle Harbor,” Knuckle says, looking to Killua uncertainly. “Is that enough?”
“Yeah, Nanika can use your memories and thoughts to figure out where you mean,” he says, but he’s distracted slightly by the fact that they’ll soon be visiting the family of Kiriko that had previously helped Gon, Kurapika and Leorio, and then the next year, Killua himself. He hopes their involvement doesn’t put them in danger as well.
“Ai,” Nanika says again, glowing more intensely dark.
The room around them fades out, and as quickly as blinking, they are all standing on the grass outside the home of the Kiriko family. It’s later in the day due to the time zone change, perhaps early afternoon if he had to guess.
Knuckle immediately kneels over and throws up.
“Oh, sorry,” Killua says. “That sometimes happens if you’re not used to it.”
Meleoron and Ikalgo look a little queasy, but seem not to be as bad as Knuckle.
Next to him, Nanika beams once more and then fades back into Alluka’s unconscious form, and he moves to catch her. She’s been getting physically and mentally stronger in their travels, and although they haven’t extensively tested the effect when it comes to the aftermath from Nanika’s wishes, he’s pretty sure she’ll be awake much quicker than previously.
He scoops her up into his arms, as the Kiriko siblings open the door to let them inside.
“We’ve been expecting you. Everyone else is in here.”
Carrying the sleeping Alluka, Killua leads the way into the cabin, his heart clenched tight with fear for Gon and anxiety for what inevitably lies ahead.
Gon stirs, not sure how long he’s been unconscious for, feeling heavy with an odd stinging sensation all over his body. His vision is blurry, but he forces himself to concentrate enough to bring everything largely into focus.
Slowly, he raises his head to locate Illumi, who’s standing nearby with a thoughtful expression and crossed arms.
“You’re awake,” Illumi states. “That’s pretty impressive for your first time.”
His mouth feels too thick to speak, and he’s too groggy to form proper sentences. He blinks, and tilts his head very slightly as if to clear it, but the weighed-down feeling doesn’t go away.
“I think you’re probably ready, then,” Illumi says.
Ready for what?
Illumi steps closer until he’s right in front of Gon, looking into his eyes with a scrutinising expression as if he’s searching for something.
He steps back, still seeming unsatisfied.
“Would you like to know about the time I inserted the needle into Killu?” he asks lightly.
Gon tries to shake his head, but it feels like his brain swishes around in his skull and he closes his eyes against the painful pressure.
He doesn’t want to hear more of Illumi’s stories of the ways he tortured Killua as a child, doesn’t want to know that the same blade being used to cut him had once sliced into a much younger Killua, or how Illumi’s recreating identically some of the incisions he once marked Killua with during his early training. Doesn’t want to hear Illumi’s almost delighted recountings of how Killua in so very few years learned not to scream, not to cry, not to say no - or how much Illumi misses that Killua, the one who knew his place, respected the family mission and obeyed him without question.
“Even Killu doesn’t know this,” Illumi continues thoughtfully. “But it was after he tried to stop Father from locking that creature up.”
A dull fire burns within Gon at Illumi’s derogatory mention of Alluka, but he can’t find the energy to form any words of anger. Or any words at all, really. He opens his eyes again, letting them settle hatefully on Illumi.
“He really went all out to try and kill our father,” Illumi says, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Managed to cut him because it was so unexpected. I think Mother was torn between pride and dismay. But Father almost lost control in beating him down, he was so furious at Killu’s defiance.”
Illumi shrugs.
“I think he gave him to me to take care of because he thought he might damage him too much otherwise, and Grandpa Zeno wouldn’t have approved of that.”
Gon’s heart is constricted again with the painful ache of everything Killua went through growing up, and how unfair it is that his family should treat him and each other so badly. The whole Zoldyck legacy was wrapped up in so much hurt and pain, and Killua had been at the centre of that since he was born.
When they met, Killua had been surprised he guessed that he was telling the truth about his assassin parents, and it was true that he’d just had a gut feeling about it at the time - that it wasn’t a joke despite the intentionally casual way Killua passed it off. But aside from just that instinct, it had also been the solemn way he said it, the slump of his shoulders, the distant look in his eyes. The way he hesitated when he looked back at Gon, as if trying to figure out if Gon himself was being serious.
He wants to tell Illumi how much he hates what they did to Killua, all the hurt they inflicted on his friend, but his mind and body feel so heavy and all he can do is listen to Illumi’s horrible recollections.
“Father gave me carte blanche to do whatever I felt was necessary to bring Killu back in line,” Illumi continues. “And so, he became an excellent testbed for exploring the capabilities of my needles.”
The way Illumi describes Killua as a testbed, so flatly and emotionlessly, makes Gon cold inside.
Illumi comes towards him again, stopping when he’s less than a few inches in front of him. It’s oddly uncomfortable having him this close, perhaps because of the sinister aura he is suddenly giving off. Curiously, Gon notices that there’s the faintest hint of Hisoka’s cologne detectable in the air around Illumi, meaning he must have seen the other Hunter in the not too distant past.
He’s genuinely not sure if Hisoka would cheerfully help Illumi torture him or get mad about it because he’s damaging someone Hisoka wants to fight one day.
Gon drops his gaze stubbornly and refuses to meet Illumi’s eyes, causing him to grab his chin roughly and lift it up so they are eye to eye. He grits his teeth against the pain of Illumi’s grip.
“Killu and I spent many wonderful months together, Gon Freecss,” Illumi says softly. “He helped me to perfect my techniques, and I saw the inside of his mind stripped bare, all of his thoughts, emotions, desires, fears… which is why I know that, in the end, you’re nothing to him. You’re a divergence, a minor inconvenience, something to be used purely to remind Killu of his true path and nothing more.”
He grips Gon‘s face tighter, his eyes narrowed, seeming the closest to anger that Gon has ever seen.
“His place is with us.”
In a sudden motion, Illumi lets go and steps back again, his malevolent gaze fixed on Gon and his aura still thick and suffocating.
“Now, this does hurt quite a bit, but in the end, you won’t remember it, anyway.”
By instinct, Gon activates Gyo, and watches as Illumi glows with a shadowy aura which then concentrates on his right hand, as he pulls a razor-thin silver needle out of thin air. He holds it between his fingers, observing the glowing needle carefully, then meets Gon’s eyes.
And he finally understands what Illumi meant when he said Gon would help him.
For the first time, he calls on all his residual strength as he tries to pull against the chains holding him in place, crying out as the motion disturbs his wounds.
“It won’t work,” Illumi says. “And even if you got free, what then? Do I need to go collect some Whale Island residents in order to remind you of what will happen?”
Gon just glares at him, but concedes the point and doesn’t shake against the chains again.
He steps closer to Gon, until he is right in front of him again.
“I need to insert this through your frontal lobe and have it reach through to your limbic system,” Illumi explains. “You won’t be able to hold still, so I’ll need to hold you in place, and it’s necessarily done while you’re awake because I need to encode the orders along with its insertion.”
He lifts his left hand to gently rest against Gon’s cheek. It’s cold against his skin, and somehow so much worse than when Illumi was just grabbing his face painfully. He wants to shrink away from the unwanted touch, but resists the urge and just stares back at Illumi resentfully.
“I honestly don’t know why you hold such power over Killu,” Illumi muses. “You’re nothing that special. Perhaps before when you had the full extent of your Nen, but now? You’re just a child.”
He moves his hand so that his fingers are holding Gon’s chin in place, the grip once more tight and painful, and places the needle’s point against Gon’s forehead, at the edge of the hairline.
Illumi glows again, his aura a swirling mix of black and dark purple tendrils, and Gon knows he doesn’t have much time.
He does the only thing he can think of doing, and concentrates almost all of his aura on his forehead, hoping it might serve as a defensive shield against Illumi’s Nen needle. The rest he reserves for Gyo, so that he can track the state of Illumi’s aura.
Illumi grunts in annoyance at the resistance, and it seems to be working initially. But then Illumi’s aura bursts brighter and larger, and Gon can feel his Nen weakening against his much stronger opponent. Maybe in the past, his Nen might have rivalled Illumi’s, but now, it won’t last long at all. He can tell his aura reserves are decreasing rapidly in the face of Illumi’s overwhelming power.
And as if he can tell exactly just how little Gon has left to give, Illumi leans forward to sneer triumphantly in his ear.
“Nice try, Gon.”
And then the needle pierces his skin, and he screams at the white-hot pain of it being shoved through his skull, all thoughts of Nen and resisting Illumi evaporating away instantly.
When Illumi speaks, his voice is low and strangely hypnotic.
“You will serve me as your master, you will do anything I ask of you. Your primary purpose will be to help me retrieve Killua Zoldyck, and you will do everything possible to achieve this. You will be unaware of this needle, and you will not reveal your loyalty to me. You will act as if nothing has changed, except you are filled with the certainty that Killua must return home and accept his position as Zoldyck family heir.”
Gon feels the words wash over him, feels them dull the pain of the needle digging into his brain, feels a part of him grow desperate to accept them and welcome them into his mind. It would be so easy to obey, it would remove the weight crushing down on him.
But Killua deserves to be free!
Another part of his mind activates in anger and rage, recognising what is happening and furious at Illumi for trying to brainwash him into doing something that would hurt his friend. He promised himself with all of his being he’d never do that again, not after what he did before.
But Illumi wants to help Killua, a quiet part of him counters. Bringing him home would stop him getting hurt, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t have to be on the run anymore, and his family could protect him. He’d been doing what was right.
Illumi loves Killua, after all. No one knows and loves Killua like his brother.
That’s not true.
Gon blinks, his mind filled with foreign thoughts and feelings. He feels like his essence is being invaded, like icy fingers are raking across his brain and leaving searing burns in their wake, trying to rewrite the language of his thoughts.
Of his heart.
Illumi knows what is best for Killua.
But Illumi has done nothing but hunt Killua and Alluka for months, sending assassins after them. Killua got hurt, badly. All his friend ever wanted to do was be free from his family and their control - free from Illumi.
I have to protect Killua!
“I won’t do it!” he yells as loud as he can, his Nen exploding defensively around him. “I won’t help you hurt Killua!”
Illumi is blown backwards across the cave, and he feels the Nen needle dissolve from within his head, although there’s still a trickle of blood running down his face. The agonising imperative he’d felt to give in stops at the same time, leaving him with a splitting headache and the painful reminder of the rest of his injuries.
Illumi slowly gets to his feet, looking displeased.
“I guess you weren’t quite ready yet,” he says. “No matter, I’m more than happy to spend more time introducing you to our family’s techniques if that’s what it takes to wear you down.”
He kneels down next to the bag on the floor.
“I’ll find something in here that will help convince you of the right path, don’t worry.”
He does his best not to show it, but the fear in him is growing rapidly. He managed to stop Illumi this time, luckily, but how long will he be able to hold out against the needle? Not indefinitely, but he has no way out of this cave and nobody knows he’s here.
What happens if Illumi succeeds, and Gon becomes his pawn against Killua?
He can’t imagine anything worse than helping Illumi to manipulate his friend into returning to the Zoldyck family.
He needs a way out, and he needs it, fast.
Notes:
So... it was deliberate that I had Killua believe Illumi is incapable of love, even though we all know that's not entirely true even if it's a pretty twisted love - both when it comes to Killua but also whatever it is he has going on with Hisoka ^^; (you are welcome for the world's tiniest mention of Hisoka, haha) Also like... 1999 anime, ep 20... filler but like, did Illumi really bandage Kurapika's head?
Anyway. It occurs to me that when Gon fought Hanzo, there was that whole bit about how he never looked hateful even though Hanzo was torturing him. However, despite the common theme of torture, I think the key difference here is that Gon really does kind of hate Illumi, not necessarily for torturing him but for everything he's done to Killua (and his future plans to hurt him too). Hopefully that makes sense and comes across in character for him!
You'll recall I promised to try and do Alluka a solid some time ago in terms of giving her a bit more agency as a character, and I've seeded some of the hints of that here - but stay tuned and I hope you enjoy how she turns out!
I realised I forgot to explain in the previous chapter my justification for tagging it "canon compliant" and "canon divergent" at the same time lol. So it's compliant in the sense that I'm writing this as if it's all happening in parallel with the political succession stuff, but prior to anyone getting on the Black Whale which was supposed to be August 2001, and I'm aiming to keep as in character/believable as possible in terms of filling in the blanks for Killua and Gon over this same period. But it's divergent in the sense that obviously this is unlikely to be close to whatever plays out as real canon, which presumably (!) we'll one day learn about. I basically started writing this because 1) "Postcards" by The Dreggs and 2) I wanted to explore what might have (somewhat believably) happened to them both after the World Tree :) I hope that makes sense and is okay with what the tags generally mean! (I googled and it seems ymmv).
You may remember I mentioned a songlist to go with this fic - I think I'll probably be able to share it soon without too much indication of spoilers, so look out for that soon <3
p.s. stupid thing but is it a cedar tree or a pine tree? I had pine tree, then I watched the 1999 anime and they called it a cedar tree, and now I just don't know anymore. But we'll go with pine tree >_<
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