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“Maybe we just lived between hurting and healing.”
- Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
—
The story starts like this: with a boy sitting on the railings of a bridge, face turned to the stars and skinny legs pointing to the dark waters below. With Gon on a midnight stroll, whistling a cheerful tune that cuts through the silence of a sleeping city. It starts with Gon stopping in his tracks to take in the curious sight.
The boy looks over his shoulder. Gon can only stare. A pair of sunken blue eyes that sit atop dark circles stare back at him. He thinks he’s seen a ghost, but the steady rise and fall of the boy’s chest lets him know he’s breathing. Whether or not he was actually alive on an emotional and mental level remains to be seen.
Gon knows the boy; anyone with functional ears and eyes that attends Hunter High knows who Killua Zoldyck is. He’s the school’s proverbial golden boy. Even if they’re the same age, Gon, cursed with academic mediocrity, has never had a class with him. Killua was solving precalculus problems in his sleep when they were only first years. Gon still can’t remember the quadratic formula to save his life.
It’s almost astounding, really, how far away Killua always seemed. Tonight, he’s just as distant, but in a different way.
Gon breaks the silence first. “The stars are really hard to see here in the city.”
Killua looks up again. “Yeah, they’re really beautiful in the countryside. I try to stargaze whenever my family goes out there for vacation.”
He scratches the back of his head. “Yeah? I wish I had paid attention more when I lived there with my aunt.”
“It’s pretty late to be out on a walk, you know.”
“Huh? Well, I ate a lot of sugar today, so I couldn’t sleep. Why are you out here?”
Killua swings his legs over the railings and hops down. “Couldn’t sleep either. It’s just one of those nights, I guess.”
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.” Gon squints and leans in to get a better look at Killua, who steps backward in surprise.
“Maybe I haven’t,” he says coolly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I think it’s time I get home. I’ll see you around, Gon.”
Gon gasps. “You know my name?”
His head tilts to the side. “Yeah? We’ve gone to the same school for six years.”
His mouth is hanging wide open.
“Plus, you’re like, one of the best athletes at school.”
“Am I?”
“Yes, you are. You’re that dense, huh?” Though his words might’ve been a bit mean, there’s no malice in his tone. In fact, Killua smiles for the first time in their entire conversation.
Gon feels the tips of his ears grow hot. “Not everyone can be at the top of their class.”
“Well, not everyone can be captain of the varsity soccer team either.” Killua yawns. “Okay, that’s my cue that I should really get going. Maybe I’ll see you around this summer.”
—
It’s a little inaccurate to say that Gon’s appearance had saved Killua’s life. Killua, despite his raging existential crisis, hadn’t planned on jumping back then. He never plans. He only closes his eyes and imagines his torso dipping forward and his fingers uncurling on the railings, and he can imagine himself falling, and in his last moments he’d pretend he was instead flying towards the stars. But in reality, he’ll never let go, and gravity continues tethering him to this lifetime.
He’s afraid of dying, but living is a monster in itself.
If he had it his way, he would go to the moon, or maybe just go on an intergalactic road trip to find aliens.
Killua doesn’t bother turning on the lights as he enters his apartment. The living room looks so pristine that it looks like a picture straight off of a real estate website. He’s probably only sat on the couch twice since he moved in. Likewise, a majority of the pots and pans in the kitchen cabinets remain untouched. It doesn’t look like a space that’s been lived in at all.
There’s a pot of flowers sitting on the kitchen counter—a gift from Alluka. She started sending them in hopes they’d motivate Killua to get out of bed. Killua always ends up killing them anyways. He does try his best, even doing research on each and every plant he receives, but living appears to be astoundingly difficult for plants. That’s one thing he and plants must have in common.
The covers are already unmade when he throws himself onto his bed. He hasn’t made his bed in months.
Honestly, when his father agreed to let him live on his own, Killua had been shocked, to say the least. Silva said it would do Killua good to see what independence is like.
For the most part, Killua is a functional human being. During the school year, he wakes up and goes to school on time. He never misses assignments or screws up on tests. He makes sure to be so blindingly bright that people don’t notice that paranoia kept him up the previous night. He eats at least two meals a day, brushes his teeth, and takes showers, even if he feels absolutely terrible through it all.
No one would ever believe that Killua Zoldyck is off, so he never gives people any reason to think that.
Even when he’s sleep-deprived, sleep never comes easy to him.
When it finally does, Killua does not dream.
—
The library is one of Killua’s favorite places. He arrives right at opening time, 9 am—not like he had anything to do today anyways. He picks up a book on mythology; when it comes to Killua and libraries, it’s always mythology. Or legends and fables and fairy tales and the like. It’s his goal to give every part of the world’s lore a chance, but only if he’s in the mood. Last week, he had a huge craving for Welsh mythology. Today, he plucks a book on Japanese mythology off the shelf and heads to a table.
It’s easy for Killua to get lost in these stories. The myth he pours over tells the tale of a prince banished from the palace after slaying his older brother to an island. No matter the enemies his father places on the island to defeat him, the prince always prevails. Killua likes to read about larger-than-life heroes and think about if he were a hero himself. It makes him happy for a moment, and then he remembers that all of it will always only be a “what if”.
The prince dies after blaspheming a god. What a way to go, Killua thinks. Maybe he’d die in some grand way too, like while saving someone from a fire or pushing someone out of the way of an oncoming vehicle. According to legend, the prince became a white bird after his death. Killua would want to be a star.
“I see you’re still reading mythology books.” A voice pulls him back to reality.
Killua looks up. “Kurapika? I thought you don’t work here on Tuesdays.”
“I don’t, but I have to tutor someone here today. Mind if I sit here?”
“Not at all. How was first year?”
Kurapika takes a seat across from him and sighs. “University is definitely harder than high school. It’s worth it though.”
“What’s up with the boyfriend nowadays?” Killua closes the book.
“Oh, you know, working hard to pass premed. And he’s actually good at keeping the apartment clean on his days.” Kurapika’s mouth quirks up into the slightest of smiles. “Our second anniversary is coming up next week.”
He leans back. “Seriously? I can’t believe it’s been two years since he put on a cheerleading outfit during a football game to ask you out.”
“Yes, well, he sure knows how to make a man stay forever.”
“Forever?”
Kurapika doesn’t falter. “Not like that. We’re both students. We need to focus on graduating first.”
“As pragmatic as ever, I see.”
“Of course. How was second year?”
“Good, I guess, though I still don’t have any friends.”
“It’s probably because you’re scary and rich.”
“I think that’s very much a compliment.”
He rolls his eyes. “Almost forgot how snarky you are.”
Killua flashes him a cheeky grin.
A familiar face walks into the library.
“Oh, the friend I’m tutoring is here,” Kurapika says, watching Gon as he walks over to their table. “I’m assuming you know each other.”
“I’ve seen him around.” What he really means to say is, “He kind of caught me in the middle of one of my angsty episodes, but he doesn’t know exactly that, and so he probably thinks I’m some weirdo who hangs out on bridges at midnight for fun.”
But if Gon really thinks that, he shows no indication of it.
“I didn’t know you knew Gon.”
“I know him through Leorio,” Kurapika explains, “who knows Gon because he used to be the school nurse’s assistant, and Gon frequently came in with injuries.”
“Lovely.”
Gon sits next to Kurapika and dumps his backpack out on the table. The math textbook hits the surface with a loud thump.
“Geez, you should be more careful. Those things are expensive.” Kurapika winces. “Anyways, we should get started now if the make-up test is two weeks from now. Killua, don’t be distracting.”
Killua waves a dismissive hand as he opens the book again. “Yeah, yeah.”
—
He’s not sure how he ended up in this situation. Just a few minutes ago, he was in the library with Gon and Kurapika, occasionally injecting a witty comment into their tutoring session. Now he was walking through the city with Gon towards his favorite bakery after Kurapika left to go meet Leorio.
“You never struck me as the type with a sweet tooth.”
Killua stuffs his hands in his pocket. “Well, considering most people only see me as a rich genius boy, that’s not surprising. Contrary to popular belief, I’m a human being who likes regular things too.”
“Like reading?”
“Like reading.”
“What do you like reading?” They turn a corner.
He shrugs. “Myths, legends, fairy tales. Old stories about awesome people.”
“That’s really cool!”
The scent of freshly cooked pastries hits their noses as they walk through the doors.
“This place is so… cute.” Gon looks around at the floral patterns on the wall and pastel pink displays. Never in a million years would he have pictured Killua sitting here. “What do you usually buy from here?”
“Whenever I come here with someone, I always split a crepe with them.” His expression softens as he reminisces upon all the times he brought Alluka here. Cinnamon apple crepes topped with a healthy dose of powdered sugar was her favorite, and it’s undoubtedly a Killua-Alluka tradition to drop by when they were in town. He promised that one day he’d learn to make them too. “I’ll let you choose.”
Gon ponders upon the decision like he’s making the most important choice of his life. In the end, he chooses raspberries and blueberries and chocolate drizzle. A fine choice, Killua might add.
—
It’s almost criminal how easily Gon slips past Killua’s defenses and becomes a part of his days. Killua goes to the library every week day even if he doesn’t want to read because he knows Kurapika will be there drilling information into Gon’s head. Afterwards, Gon and Killua will go places. Sometimes they’ll go to the bakery; other times, they’ll go to the ice cream shop and take advantage of free samples. Or they’ll go somewhere entirely unrelated to food, like the park, and Gon will push Killua on the swings because he insists. Killua lets him because he kind of likes the physical contact.
He’s never been a physically affectionate person, but he hardly minds if people touch him. Alluka’s hand in his has always been comforting. Being held always felt like he was being held together, and there are days when he needs to feel together and not like his life is crumbling before him. He never complains when Gon throws his arm around his shoulders or sneaks up on him from behind because in all honesty, he likes it a lot.
When Gon’s make-up test comes and goes, he doesn’t come to the library anymore.
Killua misses him, and he already misses a lot of things.
For example, as he checks the clock on his phone that reads 12:37 AM, he really misses sleep. Sure, that isn’t too late, but time always seems to be 10x slower at nighttime. He doesn’t want to be awake right now. In fact, he’d rather sleep forever at this point.
He remembers his encounter with Gon that first night. Would he be awake?
He calls Gon.
“Hey,” Killua says. “Were you sleeping?”
“No,” Gon replies, but the grogginess in his voice makes it clear he’s lying.
“Liar. I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“It’s fine, Killua. But why are you up this late?”
His grip tightens around his phone. “I couldn’t sleep at all. I feel restless.”
“That sounds horrible! Can I do anything to help?”
“Tell me something good. Anything.”
“Well, today my Aunt Mito and I tried making macarons. They were really hard to make and most of them turned out pretty bad… So we made chocolate chip cookies right afterward.” Gon gasps. “Killua, I should bake something for you! It might not be good though.”
“That’s cool! I love baking.” Killua and Alluka used to bake together every Saturday—another one of their traditions. On the rare occasion she’s able to visit him at his apartment, they still do it. “I’d love to try your baking sometime.”
Killua can just imagine Gon lighting up after hearing that.
“Aunt Mito and I will be sure to try extra hard next time! By the way, Killua, we need to hang out more! You need to meet Aunt Mito one day. Maybe you can sleep over. Will your parents allow that, Killua?”
“I don’t live with my parents, so of course I’ll sleep over.”
“Huh? You don’t? Why not?”
Killua turns to his side. “Dunno. I don’t care to talk about it.”
“That’s okay! Do you want to come over on Friday?”
“Sure, I’d love to.” Killua feels warm inside. “I think I can go to sleep now.”
“Okay then… Good night!”
“Wait.” He pauses. “Gon?”
“Yeah, Killua?”
“Can I call you if, you know, I can’t sleep?”
“Of course. You’re my friend!”
Killua gets a good night’s sleep.
—
On Wednesday, Alluka comes to visit. She brings a new plant this time—a succulent, since there’s no way Killua could kill that—because she knows he’s probably killed the flowers, and he has. Killua cleans his room in anticipation for visit; he used to simply keep his door closed, but once she saw how messy his room was, she was mortified with worry. His desire to keep Alluka happy and unworried about him is enough for him to make his bed and finally throw away old schoolwork that sat on his desk since last semester.
The plant Alluka gives him is bright green, and it reminds Killua of Gon’s outfit. He makes a mental note to send him a picture later.
“How are things at home, Alluka?”
“Dad’s working hard to become mayor this year.”
Killua places the brown sugar on the kitchen counter. “He’s not… using you for anything, right?”
“No, he doesn’t make me talk to the media anymore.”
There are a lot of things Killua’s parents have done to piss him off, but if there’s anything that pisses him off the most, it’s them using Killua and Alluka for leverage during Silva’s campaign for a spot on the board of education last year. Mostly Alluka though. Using her transition as a way to show how “progressive” and “inclusive” their family is was unacceptable to Killua, especially considering that he still remains one of the few people in the family to actually use Alluka’s correct pronouns.
For the most part, his parents don’t bother him about the fact that he’s gay. They think it’s a phase. The more Killua thinks about it, the more he thinks his parents let him live by himself because they want him to get over it and come back, ready to accept a political marriage. It had humiliated him to put a smile on his face and talk about how loving and supportive his parents were when he came out on the local news.
Bullshit.
He never came out. Illumi did it for him.
“Good. Don’t let him.” Killua pulls out the jar of cinnamon. “How do cinnamon cupcakes sound?”
Alluka smiles wide. “Can I make the frosting?”
Killua grins. “Duh! I got all the ingredients for buttercream.”
“My favorite!”
He chuckles. “We have to leave some leftover cupcakes though. I’m bringing some to a friend’s house tomorrow.”
Alluka unwraps two sticks of butter. “A friend? Is it Kurapika or Leorio?”
“No, his name is Gon. He goes to our school.”
“Oh, I know him! He’s cute!”
“He’s average at best .” Killua bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling and showing that he strongly agrees with her. “Anyways, stop your babbling and get that buttercream done.”
Killua puts on a happy movie while they snack on the finished cupcakes.
It’s a good day.
—
By Thursday, Killua starts doubting himself. It starts with little things. Maybe Gon doesn’t even like cinnamon. Maybe he’s deathly allergic to them. I could kill him. Then it starts getting worse. What if Gon just feels bad for me and is only being friends with me out of pity? What if hates me? All of those thoughts are baseless claims, but he can’t help but think them anyways. Then again, maybe he’s just being overdramatic. He doubts everything, even his own doubts, and the cycle keeps him wondering if he’s really losing it this time.
He wants to talk to someone, but he doubts they’d understand, not when he doesn’t understand himself either.
He calls Kurapika. “Killua? What’s up?”
“Can I just talk? You don’t… have to say anything, but I just need someone.”
“Of course I’ll listen to you.”
“I feel everything. And nothing at the same time. I feel sad, but it’s not sad, it’s kind of hollow and empty and it hurts but it’s also just nothing. Gon invited me to sleep over at his house, and I was excited, but now I’m scared. I thought to myself, ‘Gee, Killua, are you really allowed to do this?’ How can someone be so happy one day and be so not the next day? I don’t get it, Kurapika.”
Talking about this hard.
“And I can’t tell anyone because no one will believe me because I don’t cut and I’m afraid of dying and I have perfect grades and a perfect life. Sometimes I don’t believe me either. It’s so wrong . I have everything. So many people wish they were me. So why am I…” He hesitates, choosing his next words carefully. “..not happy? I feel like I’m losing it sometimes. So many people have it worse than me.” Like you.
So, so, so hard.
“I’m sorry, Killua. I know I’ve been there, but I’m still no expert. Have you tried getting therapy…?”
“My parents didn’t respond well to that idea.”
It’s true that once upon a time, Killua had opened up to his mother. She broke down crying, saying, “I thought I’ve been a good mother!” and “Is it my fault?” He was horrified and full of guilt to the point where he ended up telling her, “No, you’re right, I’m sorry. I was just feeling under the weather that day… I really am fine.” It made her smile. That’s the thing about parents and people in general; they’d rather be lied to than hear the truth so that they can feel better about themselves. After that, he never told anyone anything, until now.
He feels a little guilty, laying this on Kurapika.
“How about Leorio and I take you?”
“What?”
“We could… take you to therapy, if your family doesn’t want to.”
“That’s a lot for me to ask of you.”
“You’re my friend, Killua, and even if it’s different for everyone, it’s always hard to go through alone. It’s still… tough, being happy with my parents gone, but it gets better if you open yourself up help.”
“Okay. Thank you, Kurapika. I think I’ll go now.”
“Any time. Just consider what I offered, okay? I’m serious about it.” He hangs up.
In many ways, Killua is okay. He’s been this way for so long that this is his okay, even when it’s not. As fucked up as it is, it’s almost comforting to know that he has this sadness and that it’s as much a part of him as his love for Alluka or the wit his classmates know him for. No matter how badly it hurts, it’s still hard to think about letting it go sometimes. Often times, he feels like his life belongs to other people. So even if it’s painful, at least the pain is something he can call his and his alone.
Outside, in the kitchen, dead petals litter the counter.
—
On Friday, Killua takes the bus to Gon’s house. He can drive just fine; he has his license and an expensive car his parents bought him. He simply doesn’t like driving. There’s always this lingering fear of losing control. Perhaps one day while driving he’d decide that he can’t take it anymore, and even if he always changes his mind later, in the moment it will seem right. Then the next they’d see him would be while fishing his lifeless body and car out from the bottom of the lake. He knows he’d never do that, but gosh , there are times when he prays he’d find the courage to.
After an evening of eating Aunt Mito’s food (which, by the way, is delicious — it’s been a while since he had a home-cooked meal made with love), playing video games, and watching shitty action movies with cool explosions, they head off to bed. Killua’s infinitely glad he decided to show up; it’s a taste of the childhood he never really had. He loves video games, but Milluki would always get too competitive and angry with him, and it was never fun. Illumi was always out of the question because he’s Illumi, and Killua waited his entire life to get away from him.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep!” Gon climbs into the right side of the bed, while Killua takes the left.
He rolls his eyes. “That’s because you ate four cupcakes! Now there’s only one left for Aunt Mito.”
“They were so good! You’re really good at baking.”
“W-well, I’m good at everything I do.” He tries to brush off the compliment, but the bashfulness on his face shows.
“What do you think of Aunt Mito?”
Killua leans against the headboard. “She’s really nice. She reminds me of you.”
Nice. Overflowing with light. Really pretty eyes that remind him of caramel. He loves caramel.
“She’s practically my mother! I’ve never known my real mother, but she’s been taking care of me since my father travels.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s an archaeologist! He gets to dig up temples and pyramids and visit cool places. I wanna be like him when I grow up. What do you want to be?”
“A hero,” he says, half-jokingly. “I’ll die in a grand way, so the world will remember me.”
Killua turns on his side to face Gon. “But my parents want me to go into politics like them. I don’t want to at all.”
“Huh? But you’re so smart though…”
“Smart people usually don’t have their shit together.”
There are times when Killua thinks he doesn’t have a future. He has the brains and the connections and the resources to make it big, it’s just that there’s an innate part of him that says he’ll find a way to mess it up. Why even try looking ahead when you can do anything other than that?
“Why are you so obsessed with that kind of stuff? Heroes and legends, I mean.”
“They’re strong and fearless enough to do amazing things. And they die fighting.”
“Not all of them die during their journeys,” Gon protests. “Some of them settle down and die peacefully. But they’re all dead.”
He shrugs. “We all die someday.”
“You should tell me a secret, Killua.” Just like that, the conversation’s been steered away from morbid territory.
“Why?”
“Because we’re friends, and we should get to know each other better.”
“Okay.” He thinks about telling him about all his complicated emotions. About all the sleepless, anxious nights. About the way his chest is actually hollow. Instead, he says, “I’m gay.”
“Everyone knows that.”
“You have my brother to thank for that.” He frowns. “I know everyone knows, but it feels better if I tell people myself. It feels more definitive.”
“Well, I’m glad you told me yourself. I like everyone.”
“You say it like it’s easy.” Killua’s voice is full of longing. Though it’s become easier for him over time, the presence of his family ensures that he’ll never be fully free.
“Aunt Mito made it easy.”
“My family doesn’t. All the stuff on the news is just for show.”
Gon finds Killua’s hand under the covers. It’s Gon’s way of showing comfort, and even if he’d do this with anyone, Killua wants to think it’s something special.
“Well, I accept you. And of course Kurapika and Leorio do too.”
“Thanks, Gon. For your reward, I’ll tell you another secret.” The lights are off, but he can see Gon’s eyes clearly. “I know we’ve only been friends for a short time, but I think you’re my best friend.”
His eyes brighten. “I think you’re my best friend too.”
When Gon squeezes Killua’s hand, his heart tightens.
Oh, boy. This is bad. This is very, very bad, his brain warns him. What he should do is pull his hand away and turn away from Gon and pretend this never happened. Yet he stays in place. The two of them stare at each other after their revelations for what seems to be a lifetime.
“That makes me happy,” Killua says. And he is.
—
The next night feels so much lonelier without Gon next to him. Killua never realized how much he craved close connection outside of his family until he had it. Sure, he trusts Kurapika and is good friends with him. However, Gon is entirely different. He could never see himself holding hands or sharing a bed with Kurapika. For one thing, Leorio would kill him. Anyways, it felt right and good when it was Gon. He hadn’t been aware of how empty his apartment was until he understood company.
It’s 2:01 AM, and he still dials Gon’s number anyways.
“Killua?” This time, Gon sounds awake.
“Looks like you’re awake too.”
“Yeah, I was playing a new video game Aunt Mito got me!”
“I’ve just been in bed, but talk to me.”
“It’s boring if I just talk to you. We should make up a story.”
“A story?”
“Yeah, we’ll take turns, and every time you call me, we can continue it. You go first since you read a lot of stories.”
“Okay… Then the story is a cursed prince,” he starts. “He’s being hunted by the monster king, who sends his monster underlings to attack him, so he stays in a magical tower where the monsters can’t detect him. He’s lonely and unhappy inside the tower, but leaving is way scarier.”
“And then the prince meets a powerful knight!”
“How does the knight get into the tower? The prince doesn’t have long hair.”
“He has a giant bird.”
“What kind of bird?”
“Dunno. Something colorful. Anyways, it gets him to the window at the top. He starts visiting the prince all the time to bring him gifts from the outside world.”
“His favorite is a pretty white scale from a dragon the knight slayed. And more and more, he wants to see the outside world with the knight. But he’s still terrified of the outside world.”
“The prince decides to leave the tower when the knight vows to protect him! And their adventure begins!”
“I think that’s a satisfying way to leave it hanging for tonight.” Killua smiles. “Good night, Gon.”
They keep their promise to keep adding to the story over the next few weeks. At first, it’s all about the fantastical adventures of the prince and the knight. They range anywhere from helping an elderly goblin recover his prized possession, a ruby, from a group of bandits to navigating a labyrinth that causes those who enter to experience confusing hallucinations. Gon’s favorite, however, is the story of the knight fighting an evil clown with tacky hair (spoiler alert: the clown falls off a cliff into a lake of acid). Throughout the journey, monsters come to the attack the prince; the prince does little of the fighting, often protected by the knight.
Eventually, their adventure finds a central goal to chase. After meeting a scarlet-eyed oracle who tells them about a legendary sword that can slay any beast, the prince gets the genius idea to use it to kill the monster king so that he can finally be free from his curse, The only catch is that the chamber containing the sword can only be opened by a special chosen one. After months of searching, they finally reach the cave where the sword is being held.
“And now, they’re standing at the door to the chamber, which is decorated by jewels of all time!” Gon’s voice drips with enthusiasm. He’s gotten way into this over time. “This is the finale, Killua! Make it good.”
His mind has been heavy lately. He can’t concentrate unless his lightens the burden. “Wait, can I say something?”
“Of course.”
“I’m sad.” He’s been in a bad episode for the past week. Trying to occupy himself by skateboarding or reading were only temporary solutions; in the end, he was always hit by a wave of melancholy when he came home again.
“Why?”
“I don't know… I just am.” The feeling is inexplicable, but a metaphor that makes sense to Killua is that it’s like a tangled ball of yarn. The more he pulls at it and tries to unravel it, the worse it gets. He just can’t figure it out. He thinks he never will at this point.
“Well, everyone gets sad…”
“It’s not normal sad. I’m—” Killua gulps. He exhales a shaky breath. He’d been avoiding this word for a long time. “—depressed.”
There’s silence on the other end. He immediately wishes he could take it back.
“Really? I don’t think you seem depressed. I mean, Killua, you have so much in your life. I don’t know how you could possibly be depressed.”
All of the doubts Killua had held back in order to even say the word all come crashing down on him. It’s a flood of self-loathing and mentally yelled criticisms that fill his mind until he forgets where he is or that he’s on the phone. The world around him seems to stop, and for a second, he thinks he’s dead. He almost wishes he were.
Suddenly he’s the prince back in the tower, thinking how foolish it is to think he can go to the outside world.
“Killua? Are you there?”
His voice trembles. “The knight tries to open the door to the chamber, but it doesn’t respond to him. The prince… can’t believe it. He had been so convinced that the knight was the one, so if someone as kind and radiant and powerful as the knight couldn’t get the sword, who could?”
Killua hangs up and turns off his phone entirely.
I wanted you to tell me that it’s going to be okay, he thinks.
Perhaps part of the curse was never being understood.
For the first time in months, Killua cries.
—
It’s been eight days, twelve hours, and forty nine minutes since Gon last saw Killua. He hasn’t responded to any text messages or phone calls nor has he been at the library. When Gon visits today, he does run into Kurapika, who is inserting books back into the shelves.
“Have you seen Killua lately?”
Kurapika shakes his head. “No. Did something happen?”
“I think he may hate me now.”
Kurapika’s never been known to show that much emotion, but oh boy, the shock on his face after hearing that statement is award-worthy. “Where’d you get that idea?”
After an explanation of the previous week’s events, he frowns at Gon. It’s the look of a disappointed parent, and it strikes a profound sense of guilt within him.
“You didn’t react in the best way to that situation.”
Gon tilts his head to the side. “Really? I was just being honest.”
“Sometimes you have to be sensitive with those kinds of conversations. I’m sure it was extremely difficult for Killua to tell you that.”
“Oh. Maybe you’re right.”
“I know Killua seems very carefree and strong, but plenty of people who are in pain go unnoticed. If they don’t show it, it just means they’re strong enough to hide it, but not strong enough fight it yet.”
“I’ve never thought of that way.” He frowns, suddenly conscious of just how much his words might’ve affected Killua. “I want to go apologize.”
“He’ll forgive you. I know how much he cares about you. But before you go, I have something for him.” Killua disappears into the back room and comes back with a leatherbound book that he gives to Gon. It’s a copy of The Story of King Arthur and his Knights. He already knows Killua would love this. “Leorio saw it the other day and thought he’d like this. I was going to deliver it myself, but I suppose you should do it.”
“I’ll definitely get it done!” Gon clutches the book to his chest like it’s something precious. Kurapika smiles at him.
Aunt Mito is at work that day, so he has to bake on his own. He ends up filling the cupcake tray with way too much batter, and the result is an odd shape more reminiscent of a mushroom than a cupcake. The white frosting is unevenly spread, but hey, at least he remembered to not put too many sprinkles on. Killua hates having too many sprinkles on his sweets. He knows because one time they went to the ice cream shop, and Killua asked for only one spoonful of sprinkles. He told Gon he doesn’t like when the toppings, especially sprinkles, overpower the actual dish.
He’s afraid Killua won’t answer the door when he shows up at his apartment that evening. He does, but the boy standing in front of him looks more like a ghost now than he had that night on the bridge. His disheveled hair looks as if it hasn’t been combed in days, and with a blanket wrapped around himself he looks truly miserable.
“Killua! I’m sorry!” He extends both his arms out, one hand bearing the book, and the other holding out a container filled with his disaster cupcakes.
Killua’s eyes widen slightly. “Gon…”
“I talked to Kurapika, and I realized what I said was totally insensitive of me. I’m really sorry I was such a jerk, and I hope you don’t hate me.”
Silently, he takes the two gifts from Gon and sets them on the counter, right next to a succulent with a few dried up leaves.
Killua throws off the blanket and runs at Gon, flinging his arms around him. “Dumbass. It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I should have been more understanding.” Gon’s arms snake around Killua’s torso.
“...That’s all I wanted to hear.”
“Are you crying?”
Killua hugs him tighter. “Shut. Up.”
—
Jesus, Killua is having a crisis. It’s not an existential, majorly depressive crisis, but a crisis nonetheless. So yeah, boys. Boys, boys, boys. Killua hasn’t gotten a clue. He’s always admired them from afar, and having celebrity crushes were always much safer. At least he knows it would never happen, so he never gets around to hoping. Gon Freecss just had to go and change that.
He had agreed to sleepover at Killua’s apartment, and they made a pillow fort in the living room and watched movies on his computer.
Gon fell asleep before him. Killua didn’t want to stare, but goddamn, Gon is beautiful and Killua is weak. They were having fun together. Then Killua had to go and catch feelings like the absolute disaster he is.
Even while he’s staring at Gon with the goofiest grin on his face, internally, he’s screaming and his brain is on fire.
Okay, let’s think this through.
Option A: Killua tells Gon.
Option B: Killua never tells gone, and represses the feelings until they go away.
Option C: Killua changes his name and becomes an alpaca herder in the mountains.
Option C is ideal. He’s sure that his parents have the money to make it happen, except they’d never never actually go through with it. He thought Option B would be his best bet, but these past few hours spent with Gon has made it clear that his heart can’t handle all the platonic touching Gon does. Maybe he’d die of a heart attack after Gon hugs him, so then he’d never have to tell him. That leaves Option A, and Killua would rather go back home than do that.
As always, what started a normal teenage problem soon morphs into something more monstrous. Why doesn’t Killua want to tell Gon? In the first place, he’s scared of rejection, just like anyone else. I’m not even good enough for him! He’s so happy and carefree, and I’m walking emotional baggage!
Killua turns away from Gon. Am I even allowed to have this?
To most people, it might seem like such an odd thing to think. Of course people are allowed to pursue happiness! That’s like, a basic human right. It’s never been simple for people like Killua. He’s never done anything horrible like murder someone or commit grand theft auto. Either way, he feels like he needs to punish himself for something. He could win a Nobel Peace Prize for peace and still believe he’s a terrible person at the end of the day.
He closes his eyes. Why do I do this to myself?
One day, he wants to be able to hold Gon’s hand, or do anything for that matter, without feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt.
He thinks he’s finally had enough of this, a feeling that only grows stronger when he sees who’s at the door in the morning.
“Illumi.” Killua doesn’t move from the door. “What are you here for?”
“Can’t I visit my dear younger brother to see what he’s up to?” Illumi, being taller, is able to see over Killua. His eyes narrow when he sees the pillow fort. “I see you’ve been wasting your time. Dad didn’t let you live alone for you to not be focused.”
Killua’s grip on the doorknob tightens. He grits his teeth. “I have friends, you know.”
“ Unneeded friends,” Illumi corrects him.”What you need is to stop playing around and come back so you can focus on being the heir to the family. Doing what you’re supposed to do.”
Killua looks away from Illumi. He’s one of the only people he can’t always stand up to.
“I find it rather insulting that you’d rather spend time with ‘friends’ and Alluka than your family.”
“Alluka is family.” Killua’s eyes snap from the floor back to Illumi. If there’s anything he doesn’t tolerate, it’s people disrespecting his sister.
“Him? Hardly. You’re the only one who thinks that. You’re lucky we didn’t disown you too.”
“Don’t talk about Alluka like that.”
“Honestly, without you, she’s way too hard to control. All he talks about is how much he wants to be like you.” He puts a hand on his hip. “He even calls you her hero! He’s insufferable.”
His anger melts away when he hears the word ‘hero’. Killua, a hero? Killua, the boy who has everything, but can do nothing? How can Alluka possibly think something so absurd?
“I really hope you’re listening to me, Killua.”
And Killua does something he never thought he could do before: he smiles at Illumi. “Well, sorry, but I’m not listening. Have a good day.”
The dumb shock on Illumi’s face as Killua slams the door on him is priceless.
To his surprise, Illumi leaves right away.
He climbs back into the pillow fort, where Gon is still asleep, unaware of the confrontation that took place moments before.
He’s Alluka’s hero.
Maybe he’s not a bad person.
He looks over at Gon.
Maybe he deserves happiness after all.
—
He spends the next few days thinking. Maybe he didn’t have to do something extravagant or die in a dramatic way to be good enough. Maybe he’s spent way too much time worrying about people not caring about him when they do, they really do, and he’s been shutting happiness out just to make himself miserable. Maybe he can just be the best Killua that he can be, and that would perfectly okay.
But that moment, he’s not the best version of himself, and he wants to be.
He wants to have his shit together for Alluka.
He wants to prove his family wrong.
He wants to be closer to Gon without pessimism tearing him away.
Above all, he just wants to be happy with himself.
He calls Kurapika. “Kurapika?”
“Hello, Killua. What’s up?”
“I thought about it. I’ll take you up on that offer.”
“Oh, that’s great. I’ll tell Leorio.”
“Also?”
“Yeah?”
“I know I might… change my mind, but if I try to back out, don’t let me.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“You know what? I’m proud of me too.” Killua dumps water on the succulent Alluka gave him. He’s had to pluck a few dead leaves off, but otherwise, it’s thriving.
In continuing his streak of letting himself actually be happy, he goes to Gon’s house. He almost considers taking his car there, but the anxiety of getting behind the wheel makes him decide against it. Baby steps. He’ll get there one day.
He stands on Gon’s porch and wants to run. Instead, he knocks on the door. It’s now or never—better do it while he’s still riding a confidence high.
“Hi, Killua! You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“Yeah, well, I wanted to talk about something important. Is your aunt here?”
“No, she’s at work.”
“Perfect. Why don’t we talk on the couch?”
Killua stares at his folded hands in his lap. He can’t look Gon in the eyes. He wishes he could. Coming here was a feat in itself, though, so he can pat himself on the back for that.
“I came up with a true ending to the story,” Killua says. “The prince realizes the knight couldn’t get the sword ‘cause, well, it’s the prince’s curse, not the knight’s. And it’s not the knight’s job to save the prince—the prince has to do that himself, but the knight is there to support him. So the prince tries to open the door, and it works, and he gets the sword and slays the monster king.”
“Is the curse lifted afterward?”
“Not entirely. The monster king’s underlings are still around, and in the years to come, the prince has to fight. The thing is that no matter how hard it gets, he never gives up.”
“I like that ending. But you’re forgetting something! The knight swears his eternal loyalty to the prince by kissing him on the hand.”
This is it. “And if… the prince… wants more than just a kiss on the hand?”
Gon falls silent, and Killua wonders if this was his brightest idea.
“Then the knight is happy to oblige, because he’s been in love with the clueless prince since before the cinnamon cupcakes.”
For the first time during this conversation, Killua looks at Gon.
Gon surges forward, and the first press of their lips is electric. The force is enough to knock Killua on his back, and his hands grip the back of Gon’s shirt as their lips meet over and over again in a messy, amateur dance. Gon is overwhelming. Any doubts or negativity that begin to enter his mind are promptly kicked out to make room for Gon. Gon, Gon, Gon. Killua’s overflowing with him.
Kissing Gon Freecss was every fairy tale ending he’s ever read. Except it’s so much better because it’s his, and unlike his pain, he wants to hold onto it forever. It’s a shame this story will never be in a book because goddamnit, it’s so good. Killua, however, is content with this just being their story. A part of his grand tale. Every kiss was a story in itself, with a million different ways to tell it. He swears he’ll discover all one million ways eventually.
Yeah, this is definitely the best idea he’s ever had.
It’s also the most insane idea he’s ever had. Jesus, they’re both way in over their heads, making out in Gon’s living room like this. What if Aunt Mito came back?
Gon’s fingers entangle themselves in Killua’s hair.
They’re both such selfish, greedy creatures, and that’s okay.
Gon pulls away. Killua runs a finger along his lips. Mine.
Gon looks at Killua with complete, utter adoration, and Killua could melt.
(He’ll never know, but Gon thought Killua was just like a star in that moment. Unyielding. Terrifyingly brilliant. Yet closer to him than any star ever could be, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.)
Gon holds Killua’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. It sounds like, “It’s going to be okay.”
Killua shifts his hand so that it rests on Gon’s cheek, and it sounds like, “I know.”
All this time, he’d misunderstood and admired heroes for the wrong thing. What makes them great isn’t always the things they did. It’s that they never stop fighting.
The story ends like this: with Gon and Killua wrapped up in each other’s arms on Gon’s couch. With Killua, no longer at rock bottom, but slowly crawling his way to the top. With Killua, his eyes looking ahead and no longer fixated on the ghosts that walk behind him. It both ends and begins anew with Killua learning to be light—for the people he loves, and most importantly, for himself.
As he rests his head against Gon’s chest and feels the steady rhythm of his heart, Killua thinks that this is his beginning, this is where he starts living after years of just going through the motions. This is where he stops being okay with “just okay” and starts chasing after better things. He may be a skeptic through and through, but if there’s anything he believes in, it’s this statement:
It really will get better.
—
“The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.”
- J.D Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye