Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gon Freecss had a tendency to “overdo it”, as Aunt Mito-san would say. However, this event was of no consequence to Gon’s lifestyle. In fact, it was spontaneous and the only correlation was his shitty, fickle lungs. He spent several days in absolute cramping agony before at last calling it quits—forced to call it quits by Aunt Mito-san, who he had on the phone more often than not to yell reminders at him. If she didn’t do that, he’d forget that he was a functioning human being who needed nourishment.

After checking himself into the university clinic with the vague description of, “A knife corkscrewed into my shoulder blade,” written under the question, “Describe your symptoms.” From there, he dragged himself to one of the cushioned benches where he died for a hot minute before being resurrected by a concerned nurse.

When it became clear that Gon was not, in fact, suffering from a stab wound, he was diagnosed with a spontaneous pneumothorax. Gon didn’t really know what the Lorax had to do with his collapsed lung, but boy did it hurt like a bitch and he had more than a few colorful words to share with anyone who bothered to listen.

“For someone who rations their swear words, I’d say you’ve used them all up,” Zushi said.

It was officially Day Two and Gon’s carefully allotted swear words were dwindling fast. He had used most of them up the day before—before his roommate Zushi drove him to the clinic on Mito-san’s direct orders. Somehow she had gotten ahold of Zushi’s number and yelled at him from several states away to take her Dear, Sweet Boy to the ER.

“I’m at twelve, thank you very much,” Gon said, cracking a bright smile.

Zushi pulled up an armrest chair as he sighed, “Ah, yes, three away from self-destructing.”

“I won’t self-destruct if I hit fifteen,” Gon said. He tipped his head back against the fluffy, white pillows and smiled at Zushi. He felt drunk, like he couldn’t control the muscles in his face as Zushi rose an eyebrow at him. Gon rolled his eyes and drawled, “I’ll just descend into Hell where I belong.”

“You and I both know you’re too good for Hell.”

“Yeah, which is why we both know that Lucifer’s gonna play all his cards to get me down there,” Gon said with a thrust of his fist in the air. By accident, he punched up the exact arm where a hole in his chest cavity was bandaged up. He felt the adhesive on the bandages tug angrily, the ache from the wound turning into searing torture in an instant.

He ground his teeth together, his entire abdomen seizing up. Zushi straightened, eyes wide, as Gon groaned in agony.

“Just say it. Just let it out, dude,” Zushi said.

Gon groaned, eyes clenched shut. He gradually lowered his arm to the tune of a long, drawn out, “Fuuuck, dude. Mistakes have been made.”

“Thirteen, buddy, you’re almost there,” Zushi said.

“Don’t say that like you’re expecting me to curse more,” Gon whined with a pout. His entire chest burned like a motherfucker, but he wasn’t about to say that out loud. It was only Monday, after all.

A spontaneous pneumothorax was a wonderful start to his week.

Zushi unzipped his backpack where it sat between his legs. Gon winced as he straightened up a bit in bed. His bum felt like numb rubber and all he wanted to do was move, but after that punch to the air he was less inclined to experience that ripping sensation in his left armpit.

From within the depths of the backpack, Zushi produced the silver casing of Gon’s laptop. Zushi held it up as if delivering an offering to the gods and, upon resting it on Gon’s lap, he reached back in for another treat.

Zushi swiped up a DVD case.

“Ooh, movie time,” Gon said.

Zushi lowered the case with a dull look. “You and I both know I’m not about to buy you a twenty dollar movie disk. That’s what pirating is for.”

Gon snickered as Zushi unceremoniously tossed the case at him. Gon caught it with a jump and, one hand over his laptop, took a look at the art on the cover.

Truthfully, Gon wasn’t much of a movie person. In fact, he didn’t know the ending of any movie he had attempted to watch because every time, without fail, he fell asleep within the first five minutes. Zushi had timed him on this as well and gathered the trends to determine that Gon’s average movie watch-time totaled five minutes and forty-eight seconds.

It’s so dull to sit still and not do anything, he thought to himself as he furrowed his brow and turned the case over to Zushi.

“Hunter versus Hunter?” he said.

“I figured since you can’t sit through movies, it might be fun to, I dunno… play one,” Zushi said with a shrug. “How long did the doc say you’re out of commission?”

“Just for another day, but I’m dying, Zushi,” Gon whined, slumping against the pillows. He threw his head back and groaned obnoxiously. “I’m not built to sit still for hours! I’ve probably slept for thirteen of them and now I’m too awake.”

Zushi leant over and tapped the game disk cover. “Then let’s set up your account. It’s an co-op game, so I brought my headset for you to try out.”

As Zushi popped out the disk, Gon opened his laptop and murmured, “Co-op?”

“Multiplayer,” he reiterated. “You’ll get to meet people, hang out, punch Nazis.”

“Do I really get to punch Nazis?” Gon asked, unconvinced.

Zushi shrugged as Gon’s laptop powered up. “I guess it depends on who’s on the opposing team.”

Gon really didn’t approve of hurting animals, but he could make an exception here.

Eager to have something to do, Gon scooted over on the bed so Zushi could join him. Together, they powered up the game and started an account. They pondered over usernames until at last Gon settled with Freakss since it was available and he enjoyed puns.

“There’s kind of a steep learning curve,” Zushi warned as Gon’s avatar materialized in the game lobby. He was a hulking man with thighs the size of his student debt.

Gon let out a loud laugh, which turned into a whistling cough that sounded more like a flute. Zushi squeaked in alarm and reached behind to press the call button for a nurse. Gon waved his hand, though, letting out another small huff.

“It’s f-fine—It’s good to cough. Let’s just start the game. You said there’s a steep learning curve?”

Unconvinced but ever so trustworthy, Zushi relaxed back into the pillows and put his raised arm back against the pillow behind Gon. “Yeah. The game’s been out for a while so pretty much everyone is either a pro or they’re toddlers with god complexes. I’ve been playing for a while and haven’t won a match yet.”

“Then let’s win one now,” Gon declared. “So where’s the tutorial?”

“There… isn’t one,” Zushi said. Gon rose an eyebrow at him and maintained eye contact as he clicked into the match.

Thus began Gon’s HvsH extravaganza. As expected, his first match went to shit about as fast as his attention span during movies. But, after five minutes and forty-eight seconds, Gon’s blood was pumping and he was eager for another shot at the game. It was just tempting enough to convince him that he could make a kill shot, even if he wasted all his time doing so. Before long, Zushi had to leave to get to class, which left Gon to his own devices and an unlimited supply of people to play guns-and-knives with.

Gon was certain he never would have touched the game had he not been confined to a bed for twenty-four hours. Video games never used to interest him, but now he was a college student yearning for something to procrastinate with that didn’t involve a book or copious amounts of food. And now, limited by the possibility of another pneumothorax, he was hesitant to hit the gym again despite the reassurance from the doctor that he’d be fine to exercise after two weeks.

So, Gon commenced his two weeks of bedrest with plenty of studying material—for HvsH, that is. In doing so, he wound up on a dangerous track to streaming thanks to an entire playlist of videos Zushi shared with him.

“Streaming is, like… watching a Youtube video in real time and you get to talk to everyone watching the video and the person who’s making the video,” Zushi explained. They were in their shared dorm room. Zushi had let Gon borrow his desk where a set of two massive monitors sat over Gon’s dinky laptop. It was such an amazing setup that Gon took a moment to simply marvel at the graphics from the game. His laptop didn’t do them justice.

A window was open off on the other screen and, despite Gon’s earbuds sitting on the desk, he could hear the muffled shouting from the stream.

Zushi pointed to the screen and said, “He’s my favorite streamer. I don’t know if you’ll like him—he’s kind of angry all the time.”

“Oh,” Gon hummed, tipping his head to the side. The right side of the screen was flooded with moving messages. Fourteen thousand people were tuning in, and it felt like all of them were talking at once. All those rapid-fire messages had Gon’s heart humming in his chest. He wanted to talk but he didn’t have any words.

Instead, his eyes honed in on the guy at the corner of the Hunter vs Hunter recording. He was pale all except for his pitch black sweatshirt and purple headphones. His bleach-blonde hair made his crystalline blue eyes almost disappear into his white scleras.

“He’s pretty,” Gon commented, pointing to the guy.

Zushi laughed and said, “Yeah, I guess.”

“What do people call him?”

“Well, that’s his gamertag right there,” Zushi said, pointing to the username at the top of the screen. KILLU, all capital letters. “But his name’s Kill, I think. People just call him by his username, though.”

Zushi leant over and typed in another username into the search bar. He clicked on the username PikaPika. “They’re both on a stream team,” Zushi explained.

“What’s that?” Gon asked.

Zushi propped an elbow up on the edge of the desk and sighed. “It’s, like… a squad of affiliated pro gamers? They tend to stream together and they’re all super good. But Pika and KILLU both live in the AssassiNation stream team house.”

As Zushi pulled up another window to search for the AssassiNation house, Gon chewed his lip and studied Pika’s streaming profile. They were offline, but their profile picture was of a photo of them holding a microphone. They had a scowl on their face, blonde hair wispy and braided to one side underneath a black sweatshirt.

A video popped up and Gon jumped in surprise at the audio of someone saying, “Hey guys, welcome to my crib—”

Soon, Kill’s face was the size of Zushi’s 32” monitor, leant into the fisheye lens of an expensive camera. He ran a hand through his wispy white hair and winked one of his blue eyes. He leveled the camera with a finger gun and shot it as he stood and backed up. The camera tipped up from the ground, following the motion of Kill putting his hand out in an elaborate gesture to Pika.

“You guys remember this bitch Kurapika—maybe from a few of my streams,” Kill said with a cheeky grin.

Pika shoved him in the shoulder and said, “I recruited you, excuse you. You’re my bitch now.”

“Aw, you love me though,” Kill said. The scene cut to the foyer as Kill’s voice broke through, saying, “As you guys probably know, unless you’re a fake hoe who doesn’t watch my videos—That’s right, I’m looking at you. Hit that subscribe button ‘cause I’m an Assassin now. To celebrate, instead of doing shots like I suggested, I’m giving you the official Ass Ass Nation tour.”

The camera panned to a dull-looking Pika, who said, “If you call it ‘Ass Ass Nation’ one more time I’m going to gut you and feed you to Hatsu.” The camera panned back to Kill, who was smirking with those sharp canines and ghostly complexion. And then, the camera zoomed in sharply to a white fluff peeking out from around the corner of the hallway. When the camera focused, a white samoyed was staring Gon dead in the eyes.

The camera shakily returned to Kill just as the guy said, “Just tell ‘em to bleep it out, I don’t give a shit.”

Zushi paused the video and Gon took that moment to say, “He swears a lot.”

Zushi pushed back up to his feet with a shrug and said, “Warned you, dude. Honestly you could find other streamers to watch, but he’s one of the best at Hunter versus Hunter.”

With that, Zushi returned to the futon to continue his homework. Gon scrolled back to KILLU’s stream just to ensure that he hadn’t, in fact, hallucinated that perfect face onto a complete stranger. When Kill turned up no different than before, Gon settled in for a “brief” watch.

What started as a few minutes turned into an hour, which quickly and unexpectedly spiraled into hours. He only stopped watching when Zushi got up to get ready for bed and he realized that it was nearly midnight. He cursed and floundered to shut off the game.

“Fourteen, buddy,” Zushi reminded him, as if he wasn’t already fully aware of the spike in his cursing lately. It was now only Thursday.

“Right, sorry,” Gon said.

“What’re you apologizing for?” he laughed.

After showering and clamoring into bed, Gon weaseled his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. His armpit was still sore from having the tube removed from his chest cavity, so he kept his left arm on his chest and raised the other to pull up the stream again. He tugged his blankets up, collecting all of the light from his phone with it. He plugged in his earphones and listened to Kill laugh at something his stream partner must have said.

Kill laughed darkly and turned a smirk onto the camera. Someone was talking crystal clear off screen, saying, “If you’re still talking, you aren’t eating pizza right. Whole slice—inserted. Mouth—shut. Ass cheeks? Clenched.”

“You’re forcibly removed from Tony’s Pizza,” Kill said. He glanced briefly off to the side to read the chat and laughed again. “‘Who’s this pretentious asshole.’ Excuse you, that man you’re talking about is my one and only Ikalgo and his asshole is mine.”

“What about my ass cheeks, dude. My pride and joy.”

“Mine, too. Just the whole caboose: Mine. Let’s get into this game, dude, enough chit-chat.”

Gon looked up Ikalgo and found himself directed to another stream. He recognized the guy from a picture of the entire AssassiNation team at an E3 event last year. Ikalgo was short, stocky, and sported a thick, curly afro with buzzed sides and squarish glasses. Against Kill, he nearly made Kill look tall. From other photos, though, of Kill standing angrily with fans, it was clear that Kill was a classic case of a small dog with a loud bark.

The following day, Gon had his earbuds in again watching compilation videos of all of Kill’s headshots from the past month and a half. Some were by his official Youtube account—which was marked with a verified badge—while others were mocked together and uploaded by fans. He was alarmed by the accuracy of Kill’s shots, and then by Kill’s loud, obnoxious shouting along the likes of, “SUCK IT, BITCH. OH, DID YOU SEE THAT?! DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT?!”

“What’s he watching?” a whispered voice broke Gon out of his trance.

He looked up to find himself sat at his usual dining hall table with all the usual people. It seemed, however, he was the only one oblivious to it. Across the table from him, Alluka had a hand cupped over her mouth after having whispered to Zushi, who was busy shoveling cereal into his mouth.

Gon put his phone down and plucked his earbuds out. “What was that?” he asked.

Alluka dropped her hand innocently to her lap and gave a curt shake of her head. “Nothing. It’s just—you seem preoccupied this morning. I’ve never seen you on your phone for more than a second.”

“Oh, Zushi just got me into streaming,” he explained.

Alluka tipped her head to the side curiously.

Zushi rolled his eyes. “Dude, she’s not interested in that,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“Who said I’m not interested?” she asked all sweetly, smiling at Gon.

Gon melted a little, saying, “No one. You can be interested in it if you want to be.”

Alluka smiled proudly and turned it onto Zushi, who glowered at her and huffed, “Fine. Since Gon can’t go to the gym, I made him a Hunter versus Hunter account.”

“Oh, my brother loves that game,” she said, patting her hands on the table. She leant over and beamed, “So you’re really into it now, huh? Isn’t it addicting?”

Gon gasped and said, “It so is. I’ve been watching videos on it all night.”

“All night?” Zushi murmured, surprised. He abandoned his cereal to ask another question, but Alluka was already interrupting. Her blue eyes were wide and bright, cheeks rounded out by her wide smile.

“Have you found any squad partners yet? I’ve been looking for someone to play with me, but my girlfriend hates the game,” she said. Zushi’s jaw dropped in an instant. Gon watched the exchange with bright, wide eyes.

The prospect of playing with people he knew was almost as exhilarating as hopping into random matches with random people. He gave a quick nod, unable to form words. When he at last could speak, he couldn’t control his volume and wound up screaming, “Yeah! Let’s do it!”

They made a night of it. Specifically, that same night Alluka proposed the match. Gon was too thrilled to wait until the weekend. His heart fluttered in his chest and he hoped to God he wouldn’t pop another lung just from the sheer excitement of cleaning up the dorm room. When Zushi returned from his evening class, it was to the sight of Gon turned Housemaid, folding up blankets and fluffing pillows.

“You should use your setup and I’ll just use my laptop,” Gon said in a flurry, racing from one end of the room to the other to grab his laptop and sit himself down on the futon.

The door shut behind Zushi. After a moment of simply staring at Gon, who stared back, Zushi croaked out, “I, uh… didn’t think I was invited? I thought you two were just playing duos.”

“Of course you’re invited,” Gon said. “We’ll squad up—it’ll be fun.”

Zushi huffed. “‘Squad up’. Look at you, using the lingo and all.” Gon beamed as Zushi reached over and gave him a pat on the head. “Fine, I’ll join you guys.”

Gon threw his fist up in triumph. He learned from last time not to raise his left arm. He kicked his legs out and thrashed about until Zushi shoved him in the arm and laughed, telling him to calm his ass down or risk popping another lung.

Gon straightened up, crossed his legs, and assumed the poise of a studious young man and said, “Right, won’t happen again.”

“As if you can control it,” Zushi huffed with a smile.

And then, a knock sounded on their dorm room door.

Gon lunged to his feet with such vigor, he smacked his head on the underside of the loft. The sound was akin to that of a nuclear bomb going off and it rattled Gon’s brain in his skull. Zushi cursed at his desk as Gon swayed and staggered into the middle of the room. “Shit, dude, are you okay?” Zushi said, about to get up.

Gon put a hand to the bump growing on his head and cleared his throat. “I’m… fine. And I’m not gonna swear.” He pointed a firm finger in Zushi’s direction, but he was off-balance and wound up pointing at the window.

He stumbled over to the door, groaning a little before unlocking it. He rubbed his hair back and swept the door open, slapping a smile on his face despite the ache in his skull. “Welcome to our humble abode!”

Alluka stood in the hall with an eager smile and a game console hugged to her chest. She was clad in baggy sweatpants and a graphic t-shirt that said in bold type, “I don’t give a damn.”

She threw an arm out to squeeze Gon into a gentle side-hug and said, “The day is done and I am ready to fight people. Where do I set up?”

Gon gestured to the TV under his loft. Alluka waddled inside, still beaming. She raised a hand to Zushi, who waved meekly from his desk where he still seemed to be in shock over Gon’s almost-concussion. When Alluka turned her attention to the TV, Zushi pointed to his own head and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

Gon waved his hands dismissively as if to say, “Don’t worry about it,” but inside, he felt like he was dying. At least my lung didn’t collapse again, he thought, realizing he had one fear, and that fear was the Lorax poking a hole in his right lung this time.

Alluka plugged in her Xbox and, popping open the game case, inserted the disk. When the television was on and the loading screen spiraled in, she hurried across the room with a little, excited squeal before taking her place beside Gon on the futon. She wiggled with anticipation, saying, “Yay, I’m so excited to play with someone on my level. I’m not very good, so bear with me.”

“Are you saying I’m not very good?” Gon whined.

Alluka patted him on his hurt head and said, “Aw, no, I’m just saying you’re a newbie.”

Zushi leant between the spokes of the loft ladder and said, “I dunno, I looked over once and Gon was kicking ass.”

“Really?” Alluka said, shocked. She put a hand to her braid and hummed. “I don’t know how I feel about that. I suppose we’ll find out.”

“What classifies as ‘bum-kicking’, if you don’t mind me asking?” Gon said.

Alluka snorted and giggled, “Bum-kicking.”

“He only has one swear spot left,” Zushi said.

“Wow, you’ve already made it to fourteen?” she said. Gon smiled weakly and turned to glare at Zushi. Zushi shrugged. It seemed that their entire floor knew about Gon’s aversion to swearing. “I’m impressed, Gon. You’re part of the Big Boys Club now.”

“I haven’t made it to fifteen yet,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “Let’s just start the game.”

Alluka brought together the party that consisted of Gon, as the hulking fella with thighs as dense as a black hole; Zushi, as a sci-fi cyborg, and lastly; Alluka, as a busty, Tomb Raider-esque woman with long black hair and red accents. Gon recognized the costume from videos, but Zushi was the one to put it to words.

“Dude, no way! You have a limited edition skin!” Zushi said.

“Skin?” Gon repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Alluka pouted and whined, “Don’t say it like that… You make it sound like I play a lot…”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I’m just saying it was only in the store for five minutes and you just happened to be playing at that time?” Zushi said. He slumped back in his seat, hands pushed up to his headset as he groaned. “If I had that skin, I’d play as her all day, every day.”

“I didn’t know skins were a big deal,” Gon confessed, turning to Alluka.

Alluka was still pouting. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, knees pulled up as she said, “Yeah, I mean, playing without a skin basically means you’re a newbie ‘cause you haven’t bought an actual skin.”

“But you have to pay for them? Are there perks?” Gon asked, and Alluka shook her head. “Why would I pay for something that doesn’t improve gameplay?”

“Status, I guess,” she said. She shrugged as she twisted her braid around her fingers and added, “And I didn’t even buy it. My brother gifted it to me.”

“You can gift skins?!” Gon screamed. “Holy mackerel, that changes the game. I want to gift skins—”

Alluka straightened up, floundering to stop Gon from getting too distracted. “Not now! We need to play!”

Before they could do that, however, Zushi leant over his chair, pointing to the top left corner of the television screen. “What happened to your friends list? It says you have 99+ pending.”

Alluka scratched weakly at her cheek and said, “Yeah… I’m convinced they’re all spam. But enough about that! I want to play, dammit!”

They hopped into a match and within two minutes of Gon yelling, “Let’s spawn at the Palace!” and Zushi yelling, “Dude, no, I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again—that isn’t how you win,” they spawned at the Palace and Alluka was taken out by a headshot from the rooftop. Alluka screamed, gasping, and breathed, “Oh, thank God, at least the real me is still alive.”

“I shall avenge you, Princess Alluka,” Gon declared.

“I’m not avenging shit,” Zushi sang, wiggling in his chair.

Alluka leant back to glare at Zushi from around Gon’s head and said, “At least Gon is a gentlemen.”

“I’m a gentlemen!” Zushi said, voice cracking. Immediately after, he gasped and yelled, “Oh, shit—”

Gon was on the rooftop looking like the star of Die Hard with his beefy man body and slightly militaristic outfit. He poised his rifle and aimed at the sniper who chucked out Alluka. He stilled the crosshairs on the guy’s head and pulled the trigger. Beside him, Alluka gasped, amazed. “That was great! Okay, okay—try with that guy over there. He’s not moving.”

Gon aimed the rifle at the opposite tower in the castle. It was a farther shot, but once the crosshairs tuned in, he got a second kill on his board.

Alluka clapped her hands like they were playing golf. “Brilliant. Wow, your aim is impressive. Try that guy over there? Oh, he’s running—”

Gon made quick work of it. It took three misfired shots before he nailed his opponent in the chest. It wasn’t a kill shot, so he jumped from the roof and went ahead to finish the job. After finishing off the kill, he gathered up a new collection of loot as he apologized, “Sorry for robbing your dead body, old buddy, ol’ pal o’ mine.”

Alluka giggled beside him before gasping and waving her hand at the weapon in his midst. “Take it! Take it! That’s a good one—ooh! So is that one.” Gon did as she said before regrouping with Zushi, who was hiding at the Palace gazebo, petrified.

Zushi’s cyborg character crouched down and wiggled around as Zushi cried dramatically, “Dude, there’s too many! We can’t take ‘em! It’s over for us!”

Gon brought his beefy character super close, so that Zushi’s crouched cyborg was at eye-level with his character’s crotch. “Don’t worry, dude, we’ll survive this.”

Zushi waddled forward so his character’s head glitched through Gon’s crotch. “Oh, thank God, my savior.”

Alluka stared dully at them on the couch. Her feed on the television was from Zushi’s perspective in the game, so the image was in 4k beauty. “You two are ridiculous.”

They escaped the Palace by the skin of their teeth and a cumulative count of 100 health points lost to Gon’s attempt at making friends with the enemy. Zushi led the way across the mountains to Whale Island, where, supposedly, they’d find more loot and healing supplies. They built a bridge from the bluffs to the island which… may have been a terrible idea, but at least their health was back in time for the enemy squadron investigating the remnants of their bridge.

Gon shot out the bridge so it steadily collapsed and sent two enemies falling to the ocean. Zushi shouted, “Take that, you whores!”

“Gon, Gon, try sniping them from here,” Alluka said.

“You’re able to snipe from this distance?” Gon said, switching his guns. He put the scope on and zeroed in on an enemy from across the chasm. Through the scope, he saw that his enemy had the same idea.

In a panic, he fired. A second spanned in which the bullet whistled across the ocean and to the bluff where it sunk in with a satisfying chime. Another kill on Gon’s roster.

“Holy shit,” Zushi gasped.

Alluka scrambled to her feet, running to the TV where the image was bright and large. Their enemies were building rapidly to block Gon and Zushi from land. She pointed to a person on the top of the makeshift castle and said, “Shoot this person?”

“Yeah right!” Zushi scoffed.

“Okay,” Gon said.

Zushi stammered and floundered before saying, “D-Dude!”

He took aim and waited for the person’s head to appear. He raised the crosshairs just so, just enough to account for the descent of the bullet. He fired and watched as the person rose as if to meet his shot—which allotted him one more kill.

An alert blared on the map at the top right corner. A red circle enveloped the map and it was closing in fast. If they stuck to Whale Island, they’d be annihilated by the hellfire that was the Red Zone. They wouldn’t make it back to the bluffs if they were caught by the Red Zone here.

“Dude, the circle’s shrinking,” Zushi said.

“Hot dog, we need to move,” Gon said, to which Zushi muttered teasingly, “Hot dog, indeed.”

“You’ll never make it back to land with the enemy there. You have to take ‘em out,” Alluka said, waving her arms like mad.

Gon went back to his position, crouched behind a half-wall and preparing to strike. A misfired shot took out the wall next to him, and another flew over his head. He tracked the stream of the shot back to a sniper hidden behind the wall. He waited a second before firing and moving on to his next victim. The shot hit home as Gon aimed again, fired, and moved on. His kill count racked up to the double-digits.

“Okay, let’s move,” Gon said. He was already laying out planks to get back to land. Behind him, the cyborg remained in his idle position as Zushi stared at Gon’s profile through the spokes of the loft. A grin spread across Gon’s lips and Zushi snapped, “Oh, come off it!”

“Let Gon have his high horse!” Alluka shouted, jabbing a finger in Zushi’s direction. “I don’t see you repping double-digits!”

“Five kills is an admirable number,” Zushi whined.

They ran like their lives depended on it across the ocean and back to the bluffs. Gon’s heart was racing in his chest—this was the high he was here for. It was—dare he say it—better than a post-workout high. Aunt Mito-san would be clutching her pearls if he heard him say such a thing. As if there would ever come a day when Gon loved video games more than working out.

Since they were on the outskirts of the circle as it closed it, they didn’t have to worry about the enemy number count at the top right corner of the screen. Eventually, though, they’d all be stuck in the same small battle zone. Gon was on high alert, looking rapidly this way and that through the trees. He felt like he was on the cusp of some great adventure that involved kicking ass and punching Nazis.

A rustle in the trees had Gon whirling around, his gun pointed directly at Zushi’s forehead.

“Whoa, dude, just me,” Zushi whispered.

“Sorry. Did you see anyone?” Gon said, just as hushed.

“Why are we whispering?” Alluka whispered from the futon between Zushi’s set up and Gon’s laptop.

Gon glanced at Alluka and, likewise, Zushi scowled at the back of her head. As if sensing his animosity, she put up her middle finger to him and smiled sweetly at Gon.

He leant close and said, “It’s getting serious.”

“Oh, okay,” she whispered.

And then, someone was firing like mad at them.

Zushi cursed and flew up, gun swinging and letting bullets fly loose. Gon ducked behind a tree, but suffered damage—a whole fifty points of damage. He would have cursed had he had any swear words left. “Oh—poo, for Pete’s sake—” he cried, switching guns and chugging health potions.

“Don’t do that when you’re—Gon, behind you!” Alluka screamed, lunging up from the futon. Zushi was yelling and Gon was in a fit. His health was shot down to a mere 10HP. Alluka pointed to the sniper off in the distance and Gon stilled, poised his gun, and aimed where Alluka’s finger touched his screen.

When the sniper was dealt with, Gon relaxed back on the futon with a huff. “That was a close one,” he sighed.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Zushi whined, pouting in his seat. Gon looked at the top left corner where his squad members’ names were. ZushiRoll’s gamertag was greyed out.

“Oh no! You died?! When?!” Gon cried.

“Five seconds ag—”

“NOOO!” Gon screamed, holding his laptop up as he got on his knees and sobbed at the ceiling. “God, why have you forsaken me?!”

Alluka gave him a pat on the shoulder and said, “It’s fine—there’s only five more enemies left. You can take ‘em.”

“Not without ZushiRoll,” Gon sniffled, clutching his laptop to his chest. “I can’t go on.”

“Bro, you have to carry the team,” Zushi said. “Go on without me, I would have wanted this for you. I would have wanted you to win that battle royale for me, bro.”

“Bro…” Gon sniffled, eyes closed, pure agony ripping at his chest. He held his hand out to Zushi—the arm fully attached to his bad armpit so the agony in his expression was real—and Zushi reached out to him. Their fingers touched, just barely.

“Bro… You can do this,” Zushi said.

Gon got back onto the futon and gave his head a shake. He slapped his hands on his cheeks and groaned. “Okay, I can do this. But don’t you guys wanna play? We could start another match—”

“No,” Alluka and Zushi hissed, and it was about the only time Gon ever saw them so in sync.

Alluka twisted around to stare at Zushi, who scowled at her and said, “You stole my line, you coward.”

“Me?! What about you?!” she cried.

Gon charged onwards as Zushi and Alluka bickered back and forth. They may have been dead in the game, but sometimes, the beefy man could still hear their voices saying, “That’s your fragile masculinity talking.” “Fragile?! Why I oughta—” He was in the center of the circle before long, simply waiting for it to close in with the other four enemies on the horizon. The circle would bring them to him, he was sure of that.

He chugged a few health potions as he waited. His health would never make it back to 100, but for now, 86 was pretty good. His fingers felt numb, his hands jittery, and he worried that he’d choke at the last second and be unable to do ZushiRoll and Nanika’s spirits justice.

This was it, the final battle, and the first gunshot was fired—in Gon’s direction.

Gon parried to the side and ducked behind a brick wall. A bullet nicked the corner edge nearest his shoulder—so it seemed he wasn’t the only star shot in this match. If he showed himself now, he’d be gone for in an instant, no questions asked. Instead, he hurried ahead and bounded up to the rooftop, where, as discretely as possible, he searched for the sniper.

Bingo, he thought as he pulled the trigger once, twice, three times to finish the job.

The enemy count dropped to three, and quickly diminished to two.

“Over there!” Alluka shrieked, pointing to the far side of his screen. He spun around and jumped down from the roof just as someone shot at him from afar. He took fall damage, but it was worth it considering how close he came to being taken out in the top three.

Gon waited, patiently, until he saw someone skidding down the far hill on the cusp of the forest. He honed in on them with his sniper rifle and pulled the trigger. The shot grazed his enemy at the same exact moment he took a hit from behind.

“Fish sticks,” he hissed, swapping guns and peppering the ground with bullets as he arced over and tracked the motion of his opponent running for cover. He ran after them, still firing away with his dual pistols. He approached the open door, only to stop at Alluka’s warning.

“Don’t go in there. He probably set a trap,” she warned.

“What do I do?” he asked.

“Break down the wall instead,” she said.

He did as instructed, which left him vulnerable without a weapon on his person. The enemy was gone, anyway, only to reappear from up above. Gon switched to his pistols in an instant and took them for 20 damage, 40, before at last dealing the final blow—a headshot from close quarters.

“The other guy is still over there,” Alluka said in a panic, shrieking as she jumped to her feet and watched, hands clasped over her mouth, as Gon went in search of his prey.

He stalked the edges of the forest with his gun at the ready. He reloaded his ammunition, heart pounding, massive, body builder calves clenched. The map alerted him to the next ring of the circle closing and, with it, came the blast of a gun not far from his person.

Somehow, it missed, and somehow, Gon tracked the trajectory and fired without thinking. He took only twenty damage off of the person, but it was enough to dematerialize his opponent.

And win the entire match.

Gon startled by the shrill scream from Alluka and the incomprehensible yodeling from Zushi. Shakily, Gon rose to his feet and was immediately tackled by Alluka squeezing him into a hug around the neck, careful to avoid his fucked-up armpit. Zushi threw his headset off and joined the party. They bounced around the middle of the dorm room and Zushi started sob-singing, “Weee are the chaaampions my frie-ends.”

When the group hug was over, Gon was dizzy, delirious, and in disbelief. Sure, he had won a battle royale before, but that was just on his own with no one to protect. He liked having a squad to win with, especially if it meant group hugs and celebratory, off-tune singing. He was smiling so wide, he was certain his face was stuck in that position forever. He didn’t care, and he didn’t mind the ache in his cheeks as he pushed his hands against the sides of his face in an attempt to calm down.

Alluka gasped, hands slapping her sweatpants. “Gon—We should see if my brother’s playing. I could get you into a game with him.”

Alluka talked about her brother a lot, but the more she talked about him, the more questions he had about the guy. From what he remembered, his impression of Alluka’s brother was that he A) dropped out of college to B) play video games. He had an image of tubby fellow living in her parents’ basement and he couldn’t dispel that image from his head.

“I mean… I guess?” he said. He didn’t want to be rude—besides, Alluka spoke highly of him more often than not. He wanted to make a good first impression.

As Alluka tapped away at her phone, perching herself on the edge of the futon, Zushi pointed to Gon’s laptop, which he abandoned on the futon. He ended the match then, crouched in front of the futon. As he waited, he pulled up Twitch, quieting the volume as he scanned his list of followed accounts. He made an account for the sole purpose of keeping tabs on KILLU, Pika, and Ikalgo, two of which were online now.

Alluka put her phone to her ear and Gon could hear it ringing as he opened up Kill’s stream.

Kill went fullscreen and Gon’s heart leapt to his throat at the sight of Kill’s sharp, blue eyes glaring at the camera. He heard Kill say the following five lines enough times in the last two days to know what he was saying even without the audio: “Everyone, shut the fuck up.” He held a finger up to the camera to take a quick phone call, leaving his gamer chair spinning behind him as he walked away.

“Killua!” Alluka said, voice bright and smile even brighter. “Are you busy? I didn’t interrupt you, did I?”

Gon had already lost all motor function at the sound of her brother’s name. He never heard it before that moment, but it was too close to KILLU that Gon found himself turning to Zushi, who was clutching the loft ladder and staring between Gon and Alluka’s sweet smile.

Alluka rubbed her finger up and down the stripes on her sweatpants as she said, “Yeah, everything’s fine here. I just found a Hunter versus Hunter squad but we need another player. No—They’re dorm friends. I’ve told you about them—Oh, come on, quit being such a wuss. It’s Zushi and Gon.”

She fell quiet for a moment, chewing on her lip. “Zushi’s got one. Hang on—I’ll ask Gon. Hey, Gon, do you have a headset?”

“No,” he confessed, but his voice squeaked because this couldn’t be a coincidence.

“I can’t talk—Gon, you take my headset,” Zushi cried, shoving it at Gon.

“What? No, I can’t talk either—” Gon whined, trying to shove it back through the ladder spokes. Alluka started slapping his arm to shut him up. She hung up on her brother and pouted at them. Gon had his arm stuck through the ladder and Zushi put his hood up and tugged the drawstrings as tight as they could go.

“I’m not gonna do this if you two are gonna keep acting like a bunch of children,” she snapped at them.

“Your brother—what did you say his name was, exactly?” Zushi squeaked from the dark protection of his hoodie.

“His name is Killua and I’m inviting him to our party,” she said, resolutely. She turned back to the TV, braid swishing. “I want him to see Gon play.”

Chapter Text

“I’m not apologizing for shit. That was my sister—she wants me to hop in a match with some of her uni friends. Yay or nay? Tough nuts, I say ‘yay’.”

Gon’s head was spinning to the sound of Kill’s—Killua’s—voice in Zushi’s headset. It just confirmed it all: Alluka’s college-dropout brother was KILLU, otherwise known as the internet’s star rage-quitter, streamer extraordinaire. Alluka’s brother was on a pro Hunter league. Alluka’s brother was currently streaming their same exact party lobby to fourteen thousand people.

Gon exited out of Killua’s stream. He’d lose his mind more than Zushi was, who was slumped so far in his seat that he was practically on the ground, his head wedged against the backrest.

“Alright, ZushiRoll’s a given. Who the hell is ‘Freakss’.”

Alluka pouted and said, “Be nice, that’s my friend Gon.”

“Gons? Like gonorrhea?”

“You know who Gon is,” Alluka whined.

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you Gons. I’m sure Alluka’s told you all about me.”

“I don’t make a habit of talking about my egotistical narcissistic brother,” she said defiantly. Gon startled at the aggression in her tone—she rarely used that on them. She rolled her eyes and smiled at Gon, who beamed back to make up for Zushi’s corpse sitting a few feet away from him. “Gon, Zushi, my brother. He goes by Kill when he’s streaming.”

Kill, Killua, KILLU.

Gon’s blood was rushing to places he didn’t want it going—namely his forehead. He felt like his veins were about to rupture behind his eyeballs and he’d bleed out on the carpet. Zushi would be too incapacitated to perform CPR and Alluka was barely a year into her premed program. He’d never make it out of this match alive.

His tongue was twisted in knots. “N-Nice to meet you, Caillou.”

There was a long beat of painful silence as Alluka stared at him and Zushi muttered in a pained, high-pitched groan, “Jesus Christ…”

“Did…” Killua started, voice strained through Gon’s headset. “Did he just call me ‘Caillou’?”

Gon puffed out his chest. If he was going to fuck up, he was going to do so with grace.“I did.”

Alluka slapped a hand over her face and groaned. “Can we just play?”

“Yeah, can we just play?” Killua teased with a snicker as Alluka told him once again to, “Be nice!”

“Yeah, we’ll start as soon as Caillou’s done teasing Alluka,” Gon said, grinning like an idiot. He couldn’t stop smiling now. His fingers were shaking and he begged God to keep his lungs from popping but the air inside them was already gone, vamoose.

“I’ll punt your ass to next Tuesday, Gonorrhea,” Killua seethed through the headset. Gon nearly tricked himself into thinking that he was just listening to another stream instead of participating in one.

They weren’t even in the match yet and a friend request popped into the corner of Gon’s screen. He looked at it with wide eyes—he only ever got one from Alluka and Zushi. He pulled it up and furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar gamertag. “Someone added me,” Gon said to Alluka.

“Just ignore it,” she whispered.

“But they want to be my friend,” he said. The loading screen for the match started up, and for the moment, his friend requests list disappeared.

“You can’t be friends with everyone,” Alluka said.

“Have you ever even played Hunter versus Hunter?” Killua said.

Gon’s beefcake of a sprite loaded onto the scene. He opened up his settings bar to look at his friends list. There were 99+ friend requests now. “I started playing on Monday… Hey, look—more people want to be my friend.”

“That’s nice, Gon,” Alluka said. “Don’t add them.”

“But I want to,” he said.

“Jesus Christ, you didn’t tell me he was a newbie. What about ZushiRoll?”

“Zushi’s played before,” Alluka said. “We just got out of a match. Gon won the match for us.”

“Where’s his mic?”

“He gave it to Gon. Stop asking questions!” Alluka said.

“Yikes, yes ma’am,” Killua drawled with a dark laugh that sent a shiver up Gon’s spine and all around.

He rubbed a hand idly against his chest where it started to ache. He waited for the telltale sign of an unfathomable stab in his shoulder blade, but as it turned out, he was just forgetting to breathe. He cleared his throat as the match started and Killua asked where they wanted to spawn.

“Big Tree!” Alluka said.

“Aw, but I like the Palace,” Gon whined.

“Yeah, and look how well that went for me last time,” she droned with a roll of her eyes. She nudged Gon in the arm and laughed. “Fine, we can go with the Palace if you three protect me.”

“I am not carrying you three to the finish line,” Killua said.

“Yeah, guys, I’m carrying the team,” Gon said with a cheeky giggle when Killua seethed, “You absolute psychopath—” but was drowned out by Alluka’s giddy laughter as she tipped against Gon’s side affectionately. Gon beamed, pleased with himself, and turned to look at Zushi, who had one hand to his heart and the other on his head.

When they launched into the match full-throttle, Gon watched as Zushi’s cyborg took off straight for the thick of the battle, stood still in the middle of the plaza, and let himself get pelted to death by a horde of people. Gon had never spawned in the Palace with so many players and in the havoc, took to Alluka’s side, screaming, “I’ll protect you, Princess Alluka!”

Zushi scrambled out of his seat and scuttled across the dorm room floor. He weaseled up between Alluka and Gon and claimed a spot on the couch to watch. All the while, he bit his nails and remained hidden in the safety of his hoodie.

Gon shut the room door behind them so that, in several seconds, it opened and cued Gon in to the intruder. He shot without a second thought, and Alluka dropped her controller to clap for him. “Oh, that was so good! Nice job, Gon! Through the window, northeast 30 on top of the tower.”

“I see ‘em,” Gon said, crouching in front of the window. He bit his tongue as he took aim and fired. “Wow, there’s so many people here,” he said as the shot hit home and took his target out for 200 damage. His kill count jumped to one.

“Yeah, I get a lot of stream snipers so…”

“What’re those?” Gon asked.

“Well, you know what streaming is?” Alluka asked.

“Yeah, I started watching Caillou’s stream two days ago,” Gon said.

“Are you fucking serious—STOP CALLING ME CAILLOU, Jesus effing Christ—” a torrent of bullets sounded in the distance.

Gon was shaking from the adrenaline rush. His camera movements were jerky but precise as they left the room. He checked the stairs, the window, and guided Alluka down the long corridor to the exit. As they went, Alluka explained how people would tune into Killua’s streams just to get his real-time map location just to snipe him from afar and say they killed KILLU in a match.

Gon pouted as he spammed the attack button on a player running through the open street. “That doesn’t sound fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Gon,” Alluka said.

She hurried after them as they crossed the street, only to be intercepted by a barrage of bullets. Alluka screamed and put up a plethora of walls to block them, but the bullets were tearing through them. Gon bounded up onto a nearby car and took a hit—just one, and it was enough for him to find the sniper on the rooftop of the tower. He crouched low, steadied his scope, and shot them down from the tower. They dematerialized on the descent.

“You saved me, my knight in shining armor,” Alluka said.

“Knight?” Gon repeated. “Do you think they have a knight skin? And if so could I keep this skin as the base?”

“Hey, knight in shining armor is my job,” Killua said through the mic. Zushi tipped closer to Gon to hear, eyes wide and alarmed as Killua’s tag on the screen came closer and appeared through a window. Killua jumped to the street level and regrouped with Gon and Alluka. He was decked out in the leather cat woman skin that looked borderline BDSM, but then again, Batman and Catwoman had those vibes, Gon had to admit. His skin was topped with long, white hair and a black headband that was reminiscent of Killua’s vibe of bleached hair and black hoodies.

Killua reloaded his weapons as he walked while Gon scoped out the Palace grounds.

“I think we got everybody,” Gon confessed. “Unless they all ran away.”

“Nah, there’s gotta be more. I thought I saw someone in that tower.”

“Gon took care of him,” Alluka said. There was a beat of silence as Alluka’s character broke into a dance move after which Gon clapped his hands as if to say, “Bravo, wonderful.”

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me.”

“I’m serious!” she cried. “Gon, tell him your kill count.”

“No, I don’t wanna,” Gon whined.

“Gon, do it,” Alluka ordered. She reached across Zushi and pinched Gon in the leg.

He yelped and slapped her away as he cried out, “You can’t make me! I’m immune to pain now after having a tube ripped out of my chest cavity so try me!”

They were interrupted by yet another attack from the building behind them. Gon screamed as shots fired and he lost another thirty points of health. Walls flew up in front of him and Alluka went running in one direction and Killua went cursing in the other, shooting at the attacker. Gon went to Alluka’s aid since she was sitting right next to him and he didn’t want to be accused of neglect.

Alluka shrieked as someone flew out from the corner watch tower, drilling bullets across the dirt in her direction. Gon didn’t hesitate. He barely took aim and fired three consecutive shots—he only needed one to hit, and hit it did. His kill count racked up to ten—he never got to the double-digits so soon in the game and he equated it with Killua’s stream snipers.

Alluka crouched on the ground, dramatically gasping. “Oh, God,” she panted, groaning in agony.

Gon ran up to her crouched body and said, “What, what is it. Where did they hit you?!”

“My leg—it’s gone—it flew off,” she said, strained.

“I’ll stitch it back on—give me the leg,” he said.

He dropped a med pack in front of her and backed away. She took it and started bandaging up. It took the entire healing session for Gon to put up four walls and a roof, but at last, they were sheltered.

Meanwhile, Killua muttered, “Y’all are so extra.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see you tending to my wounds,” Alluka snarked, and Zushi snorted at the aggression in her usually cheery voice. Gon had never heard such venom in her voice—aside from, well, every time she and Zushi argued in the dining hall.

“Fuck off, Freakss,” Killua snapped.

“That wasn’t me!” Gon cried, and Zushi burst into laughter.

“Are you coming on to my sister, Freakss?”

All of the heat in his body swelled to Gon’s face and turned his words to mush in his mouth. “N-No! She has a girlfriend!” he squeaked, panicked. Zushi laughed even harder and Alluka covered her mouth with her hand to hold back a giggle. Gon frowned at them for betraying him in his time of need.

“Yes, you fuckers, my sister’s bi—I’ll rescind all of your server permissions if you keep talking about her,” Killua threatened, and from the venomous snarl in his voice, Gon figured he was scolding his chat. He looked at Alluka, who put a hand to her temple and murmured, “Ay yai yai…”

A moment later, Killua moved ahead to leave the Palace gates, saying, “Alright, nerds, here’s the plan—SHIT—”

Someone nailed him in the back, and again in the head. First 20HP bounced off of his person, and then, 180 followed with it. His leather skin dissolved into nothing within seconds.

Alluka shrieked. Even with the med kit in her system, she couldn’t do much about the headshot that cut her from the game. Gon didn’t waste a second ducking behind the walls he made for him and Alluka as the sniper took them down one-by-one to get to him.

He reloaded his sniper rifle and, running, tracked the shots back to the columns around the Palace pavilion. He jumped to avoid a hit and fired midair, catching the sniper just before they could duck out of the way. Gon landed at a full-out sprint, leaving the Palace as he heard Killua in his headphones saying, “Holy shit, he’s got eleven kills already. You’re seriously fucking with me, aren’t you Alluka?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you!” she whined. “Zushi has the receipts.”

“Where is that mute rat anyway?”

“He called me a rat,” Zushi murmured under his breath, stunned. He had Killua’s stream open on his phone, as Gon now saw pressed between Zushi’s legs. Alluka leant over to watch, her eyes flitting from Zushi’s phone screen to the TV where her feed of the game showed that beefcake of a man running through the forest.

The chat was going mad and, as Zushi stuck his earbud in Gon’s opposite ear, he heard Killua’s voice saying, “What’ll it be guys—new game or nay? Fucking nay? Y’all are cowards. Fine, we’ll watch.”

“How come I can’t hear you when you’re talking to your chat?” Gon asked. Zushi slapped a hand over his face and Alluka whispered, “Oh, hun…”

Gon glanced at them curiously as Killua laughed in his headset and said, “What, are you watching the stream, too? You multitasking, Freakss?”

“I’m good at multitasking,” Gon said, truthfully.

“Sexy,” Killua said and on the stream Gon watched Killua lick his bottom lip. Zushi had a hand over his mouth—at least, what could be seen of his mouth. His hoodie opening was still tied tight.

“I’m sitting right here,” Alluka whined. “Quit being horny on main.”

“I’m being pissed on main. I’m getting carried by fresh meat,” Killua said. He leant into the mic and emphasized, “I don’t get carried, period.”

“I’m not fresh meat. I’m lightly seasoned, marinated, cooked over low heat,” Gon said.

“Is that how you like your meat?”

Gon opened his mouth, only to have Alluka’s hand slapped over it. “I know what you’re gonna say—don’t say it, please, I beg you,” she said.

Zushi was shaking with barely restrained laughter.

Killua tipped his head to the side and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had his hands on his armrests as he said, “Are you two… in the same room? What the Hell?”

“Yeah, I’m at Gon and Zushi’s dorm,” Alluka said.

“You’re in a guy’s dorm?”

Gon eyed Alluka out of his periphery. She had a hand over her face, but he could see her pink ears beneath the fluff of her bangs where they were swept to the side. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered, knees pulled up.

Gon could understand where Killua was coming from because he had felt that same way about Alluka when it came to some of the guys on their floor. There were a few creeps from their Welcome Weekend group that they saw every now and then in the hallways, and Gon could barely restrain himself from kneeing them in the nuts for the way they looked at Alluka sometimes.

But fuck it if the situation didn’t get awkward fast.

Say something to alleviate it, he told himself, wracking his brain for some way to reassure Killua that he wasn’t, in fact, a predator.

When the idea at last came to his head, he called himself stupid for not thinking about it sooner.

“I’m gay,” he said.

That… wasn’t how I intended it to come out, he thought, biting his lip as Zushi tipped forward and fell off of the futon.

“I wouldn’t—I mean, Alluka isn’t even—she’s not on my menu, so to speak,” Gon said, looking desperately to Alluka.

She stared at him, horror stricken, through the slots of her fingers. She had her knees pulled up to her chest as she slumped down, removing her headset, and moaning, “Kill me now…” She pushed her hands over her eyes and dissolved into a puddle of disgrace.

Gon grimaced as Killua said, “I guess you like your meat raw, then.”

“Please tell me the chat didn’t hear that,” Gon groaned. He was waiting for the reaction that never came from Zushi, who was comatose on the dorm room rug.

“Oh, they heard you loud and clear a second ago. I’m muted right now,” he said.

Gon’s heart hummed to his throat where it restricted airflow and sent his chest aching all over again. He coughed a little and said, “We can stop talking about this now.”

Zushi straightened up fast, eyes wide through the slim gap in his hoodie. Gon winced again, shrinking into the futon as Zushi said, “He muted the stream. What’s he saying?!”

“The chat can’t hear you. I have to know if you and Alluka are fucking with me. Did you really start playing this week?” Killua asked, and Gon shivered at the underlying threat there. Gon didn’t blame him, especially after the eleven stream snipers he took to an early grave just at the start of the match. He couldn’t imagine how many of the fourteen thousand viewers wanted to be in Gon’s same exact position.

Gon swallowed hard and said, “I seriously started this week. I didn’t even have the game installed on my computer until Monday morning.”

“You could’ve played on other devices.”

“I don’t have other devices,” Gon said, teeth gritted. Zushi was back to sitting beside him, their heads pushed together so that Zushi’s ear settled over the cuff of the headphone. “I’m not exactly tech savvy. Zushi created my account.”

“Don’t blame me for not believing you, smartass.”

Gon rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but notice something festering in his chest that told him to prove himself. This was KILLU, the best HvsH player in the community, accusing Gon of cheating, lying, and ultimately, making a fool of him. It did seem like an overly elaborate plot, even for an internet troll to concoct, but it wasn’t completely out of the question.

“If you’re using Alluka to talk to me—”

Gon felt himself go a bit lightheaded. He squeaked, voice shrill, and cried, “No! Absolutely not. Alluka never even told Zushi or me what your name was. She’s a good friend of mine—”

“Good,” Killua said, but he didn’t sound particularly good about it, “because I’ll kick your ass if you’re lying to me. I’m unmuting you now.”

With that, Killua cleared his throat and turned his eyes back to the chat. He rubbed a hand over his jaw and across his neck as he grinned, rolled his eyes, and said, “Yeah, I’m making plans to bone my sister’s friend. No I’m fucking not—we were just talking. Get your mind out of the gutter. Christ, you’re all horny motherfuckers, aren’t you? The whole lot of you. At least you’re not homophobic.”

Gon’s cheeks were still burning and he felt it all the way to his hairline. He swallowed hard, thinking about just the other night when he pointed at Killua’s face and told Zushi, straight up, “He’s pretty.”

He didn’t expect to have Killua’s voice in his headset that next day, though, otherwise he never would have said a thing. Or perhaps he would have, considering his filter appeared to be nonexistent more often than not.

The circle started closing in and Gon was running on the edge of the Red Zone. He never set foot in the Red Zone before, and with it on his heels, he was screeching like a banshee, crying, “I can’t go any faster!” while Zushi screamed, “Find a golf cart or a van or something!” Meanwhile, Alluka was moaning and groaning, her eyes partially covered by her hands as someone started attacking from the west despite the Red Zone being up Gon’s ass and around the corner.

“Cheese and rice! Crap! Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap,” Gon cried, fake-sobbing as Killua screamed in his ear, “Fucking BUILD, MAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Gon whimpered miserably, jumping up and down as he whined, “I don’t like building! Building stresses me out! Mother of pearl!”

“I can’t take you seriously when you won’t fucking cuss. What are you, TWELVE?!”

“I’m—twenty, thank you very— MUCH!” Gon screamed, lunging off of a rock and twisting midair, firing his gun like an absolute madman. He overestimated the momentum and wound up doing a 360 spin, only to come back around and nail his opponent in the shoulder with enough force to zap their remaining HP out. He landed with a gasp.

“Holy shit, you just did a trickshot,” Zushi gasped.

“Really?” Gon said, panting as if he was the one who just ran for his life. “What’s that?”

“You don’t know what a trickshot is. He doesn’t fucking know what a trickshot is and he fucking did it. I’m—” Killua said, but then his voice cut out. Gon rubbed a hand over his forehead as he craned his head over to see the stream where Killua had thrown off his headset, grabbed his controller, and stood. He reeled it back and chucked it at the wall behind him. He could faintly hear Killua’s voice in his headset screaming obscenities as he paced to the corner of the room and stood there with his head to the wall.

Alluka squeaked and whispered against her hand, “Oh, he’s so pissed. You’ve done it now, Gon.”

KILLU just uploaded a video!

Newbie CARRIES Kill—TO HIS GRAVE!

02:34 Killy Willy 😜 added you by username!

06:24 Freaquess is typing…

06:25 GON: You added me on Snapchat? How did you get my Snapchat?

12:53 Killy Willy 😜 is typing…

12:55 KILLUA: Alluka gave it to me

12:55 KILLUA: Don’t flatter yourself

12:58 GON: Okay??

12:59 KILLUA: Do you honestly wake up at six in the morning

12:59 GON: Do you honestly wake up at noon?

12:59 KILLUA: Touché…

13:00 KILLUA: Streaming in an hour

13:00 GON: Okay?

13:00 KILLUA: Fuck dude you in or not

13:00 GON: Not with that attitude 😣

13:02 GON: You posted a video about me 😶

13:02 KILLUA: Look I’m not sharing the revenue if that’s what you’re asking

13:02 GON: You get money from videos??? How???

13:03 KILLUA: By lookin like a snacc and also brand deals

13:03 KILLUA: Dude it was good content but Alluka told me I shoulda asked you before posting it so…

13:04 GON: …

13:04 GON: Is this you asking permission after the fact?

13:04 KILLUA: Yeah kinda

13:05 KILLUA: I’ve never gotten a million views in one day usually it takes a night or two

13:05 GON: 😖

13:05 KILLUA: What’s with that fuckin face

13:07 KILLUA: You really want me to take it down?

13:07 GON: No ☹️

13:07 KILLUA: Then quit lookin at me like that

13:07 KILLUA: Are you in the stream or out Twitter poll says duos with you

13:08 GON: 😞

13:08 KILLUA: Fucking Christ dude

13:03 Freaquess is typing…

13:03 GON: Killua is making money off of me? 😣

13:04 Nanika is typing…

13:04 ALLUKA: O hun 😔

13:04 GON: 😖

13:05 GON: I don’t want my aunt seeing those videos

13:05 ALLUKA: He won’t be showing your face, hun

13:05 ALLUKA: And the chances of your aunt looking at HvsH videos is…?

13:06 GON: Very low 😔

13:06 ALLUKA: Exactly

13:06 ALLUKA: If it makes you feel any better I could tell Killua to fuck off for you

13:07 GON: 🥺

13:07 ALLUKA: Say the word, my child

13:08 GON: I am conflict

13:09 GON: I’ll keep you posted, I suppose 😞

Gon didn’t like the fact that his low-key Twitter account jumped from a whopping six followers to 426 by the time he first responded to Killua’s Snapchat friend request. By that afternoon, it was over a thousand. To top it off, his notifications were flooded and his messages had exploded into queries along the lines of, “Why weren’t you on the stream?”, “Accept my HvsH friend request?”, and “Suck my dicc 👅💦 ”. Anonymous disappointment was, at it seemed, just as terrible as disappointing Aunt Mito-san—as if Gon wasn’t already down in the dumps. He hadn’t felt this level of sadness since before Zushi visited him in the hospital. But at the hospital, he felt helpless.

Now, he just felt like an asshole.

That Friday he all but dragged himself to the dining hall where Alluka and Zushi found him with his head on the table, his lunch barely touched. He frowned at them and said, “Hey guys…”

“Yikes,” Zushi said, taking a seat beside him. He gave Gon a pat on the back and said, “You need a hug, bud?”

Gon nodded and leant against Zushi’s side for a brief side-hug. He tipped his head onto Zushi’s shoulder as he said, “People are sad that I wasn’t online today.”

Alluka paused, her tray hovering over the table. “You didn’t accept all those friend requests, did you?”

Gon shook his head. Alluka’s shoulders slumped in relief. Gon had only accepted three friend requests: One from ZushiRoll, one from Nanika, and by default, one from KILLU. “But they all found my Twitter account,” he confessed.

“Please tell me you have it on private,” she begged. Gon shook his head. “Okay—we need to fix that right here, right now. Give me your phone.”

Gon let her have it after unlocking it for her. She set her tray down and took a seat, focused intently on locking down Gon’s Twitter account. As she did, Gon slumped back to his food, his head on the table, staring into the distance.

He didn’t want the entire KILLU fanbase this close to him. On top of it, he felt guilty for what Killua had said, about using Alluka to get to him. Even if that wasn’t the case, it obviously appeared so. He cared about Alluka and he didn’t know how to prove that beyond their current companionship. If he went above and beyond, he’d certainly be sucking up.

He just wanted things to be genuine and not muddled up with appearances.

“There,” Alluka said, handing his phone back. “It’s a good thing you don’t post photos on Twitter. Well, aside from memes.”

“Yeah,” he said with a soft smile. He cradled his phone in front of him, hunched over his plate. “Thank you, Alluka.”

“Anytime,” she said with a bright smile. It lifted his spirits and returned him to the present, if only slightly. Besides, they were all at their usual table together, it was nearly summer, and it was a sunny Friday afternoon. Sure, he had class in an hour, but for now, things were calm. He glanced at Zushi, who had his eyes curiously stationed on Gon as if expecting Gon to crumble to pieces.

Gon sighed, lifting up his fork. He picked at his food and hummed, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little… put off? I thought I’d like the idea of streaming but I don’t want to feel responsible for so many people.”

“You aren’t responsible for them,” Zushi said.

“Well,” Alluka said. Zushi glared at her, but she continued regardless. “Killua’s responsible for them—you aren’t. But when you have such a dedicated following, you’ve gotta watch what you say sometimes, you know? One bad word about someone and Killua could ruin an entire streamer’s career.”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t want to do that,” Gon said, horrified.

Alluka shook her head quickly. “You only have good things to say, though, so you’d be fine, Gon. And really, wholesome people attract other wholesome people. Honestly, you’d probably brighten up his community a bit. Right now his subscribers are mostly just angry dudes trying to punch things.”

Gon lowered his fork. “Punch what things?” he said, wary.

“Not you!” Alluka cried, hysterical. Gon backed away a bit more, squinting at her. She put a hand to her face and said, “Oy vey, this isn’t how I pictured this conversation going.” She dragged her bangs back before focusing her sights on Gon. “All I’m saying is that, from what I’ve seen, everyone loves you. And Zushi, too—if you would’ve stayed on stream longer.”

At that, she pegged Zushi with a scowl.

Zushi rolled his eyes. “I avoided the stream specifically for this purpose,” he said. “Had I known your brother was Twitch Affiliated, I never woulda hopped in the party.”

Gon nibbled on his lip and stared at his food. Alluka reached a hand across the table to squeeze his arm and said, “Look, Gon: Did you have fun playing with us?”

“Yeah,” he confessed, miserable.

She smiled at him and gave his arm a light shake. “Then just play. Killua doesn’t have to record your matches if that’s what you’re worried about. Pretend like the community isn’t there.”

She returned to her food, content. Gon chewed the inside of his lip as he picked at his salad and considered Alluka’s suggestion. He wasn’t sure if he could pretend the community wasn’t there. He wanted so terribly to be a part of it before, but now? His Twitter account said that he was completely beyond that level.

Chapter Text

Gon couldn’t stand to be away from HvsH, though. Just knowing that it was there, on his laptop, waiting to be played, made sitting in class all the more torturous. His leg bounced impatiently as he tried so terribly to listen to the lecture, but his tunnel-vision honed in on the image of his screen when he won the match, once again, for Alluka and Zushi.

And Killua.

Gon tapped his pencil to his cheek as his professor closed up the lecture and sent them all home. He was zoning out hardcore, but those few words got him moving again. He stuffed his notebook into his backpack and was out of his seat in a matter of seconds. He lunged for the door and, skidding out into the hallway, nearly collided with Zushi.

“Zushi!” Gon cried. At the last second, he threw his arms up and clasped onto Zushi. They spiraled together in the middle of the hallway as his classmates dispersed, carefully meandering around the outskirts of their hugging session to avoid getting an elbow to the face. “God, I missed you.”

“It hasn’t even been two hours,” Zushi said. “Are you heading back to the dorm?”

“Yeah, I was hoping to use your set up,” Gon confessed. He hadn’t thought that far ahead, otherwise he would have asked sooner. He smiled guiltily and said, “I was gonna quit, but… still can’t go to the gym. Can’t run. Can’t do… shiz.”

He grimaced and, likewise, Zushi rolled his eyes. It was only Friday, after all.

“Honestly I could just show you another game—”

“No,” Gon said, and his response was so violent, so swift, that the both of them startled as if struck by the gong that was Gon’s obsession with HvsH. Gon flatted a hand over his chest, stepping back. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“The Spirit of the Hunters, probably,” Zushi said.

Gon shook his head to rid it of the spirits, saying, “I was just—possessed for a hot second there. Okay, I’m better now. And anyway, I’m too impatient to download a new game. I just want to sit down and have it already set up and ready.”

“Well,” Zushi sighed, “feel free to use my gig. I won’t be coming back till late ‘cause I’ve got a date with destiny.”

Gon tipped his head to the side. “Who’s Destiny?”

Zushi stared dully at him. “Calc. I’ve got a date with calc homework.”

“Ah,” Gon hummed, tapping his chin.

They walked together until they passed the library, at which point Zushi veered off with a wave and a cheery, “Good luck punching Nazis!” to which Gon responded by saluting him and marching off.

Gon hooked his thumbs on the straps of his backpack. It made him nervous to walk around with so many things in his backpack weighing on his shoulders which translated to weighing on his lungs. He felt fine, though, despite still feeling a little woozy every time he thought about the chest tube being sucked out of his armpit. He shuddered a little and determined that he would stop thinking about it starting… now.

He swiped his keycard at the dorm entrance and meandered inside. He usually took the stairs up to his floor, but after everything, he wasn’t exactly keen on upping his BPM. So, he stood impatiently in the elevator as he waited for the ascent to the sixth floor. The only thing that made it possible for Gon to hold back from screaming in the elevator was thinking about how he was so close to hopping into a HvsH match.

Gon waddled down his hallway, barely restraining himself from running, and scurried into his dorm room. He tossed his backpack on the futon, ejected his laptop from it with a triumphant, “Aha!” and an angelic choir singing hallelujah.

He plugged into the monitors with vigor, all but vibrating in Zushi’s chair as the game loaded on the screen and the music starting singing on his speakers. In a matter of minutes, Gon was smiling like a child again, crossing his legs in Zushi’s office chair, and ready to enter a match.

That is, until he saw his friends list.

His list was open from last time, which meant that he had a perfect view of his friends’ statuses. On top of that, his pending requests looked a helluva lot like Alluka’s. ZushiRoll and Nanika were offline, which was to be expected—Alluka had classes until the evening and Zushi was off studying. However, KILLU was online and in his own lobby.

Gon hovered his mouse over Killua’s gamertag.

Almost as soon as he did that, he pulled away and switched to randomized duos.

“Frick it,” he said as he stuck Zushi’s headset over his ear and angled the mic over his mouth. He could play HvsH like a normal person. He didn’t need to play with people he knew—or, likewise, didn’t really know.

When he spawned, his randomized teammate materialized and their name popped into the top left corner of the screen equipped with a mic. Gon brightened—he didn’t know this person and they didn’t know him.

“Hey, where should we—” he started.

The volume icon lit up as the guy said, “Hey, aren’t you…? Aren’t you Gons? Like, from KILLU’s vid from this morning?”

It was the fastest Gon had ever exited out of a match.

Almost as soon as he materialized back in the lobby, he had a party invite notification popping into the corner of his screen. He put his hand to his forehead at the sight of KILLU spelled out in bold, white text above the party invite. He supposed it was a consequence of having actual friends on his friends list.

Before he could decline, KILLU’s Catwoman avatar materialized into his lobby.

“You left your lobby open, dude,” Killua’s voice sounded through his headset, teasingly.

Gon groaned and bumped his forehead onto the desk. “How do I make my lobby private?” he asked.

“I’m not telling you shit,” he said, and Gon was certain that this wasn’t good for the wellbeing of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. Instead, he covered his face with his hands, elbows to the desk, and glimpsed at the screen through his fingers. “Chat wants to know how you’ve been, Gons.”

“It’s just Gon,” he groaned, hating how he couldn’t control his smile for the life of him. He dropped his hands and sighed, “Overwhelmed. Can you tell them to stop adding me on Twitter?”

“Tell them yourself. Take matters into your own hands, Just Gon,” Killua said.

Gon rolled his eyes. “That’s such a Dad Joke and you know it.”

“Well, we all know I’ve got daddy issues so I guess it suits me.”

“This is news to me, Caillou.”

There was a beat of silence and Gon swore he heard something crash in the background. “Quit—fucking calling me Caillou. Fucking Hell—Everyone, shut the fuck up. My name isn’t Caillou.”

Gon laughed nervously and said, “You’re streaming right now?”

He went to Zushi’s other monitor and opened up a window. The silence spanned longer than expected, and Gon felt his stomach twisting into knots the longer it took for Killua to answer. God, I made it awkward, didn’t I? When he opened up Killua’s stream, the volume was muted so he couldn’t hear what Killua was saying to his chat. The chat was on fire, though, and Gon chewed on his lip as he waited for Killua to come to a consensus.

This is his job, though, Gon reminded himself. Every time he’s playing without streaming or making a video, he’s basically working overtime.

“Dude you don’t have to play with me,” Gon said.

Killua put his finger to the camera like he was telling everyone on the other side of the screen to be quiet and listen. He had a deadly serious expression on his face as he swung the headset mic back around and unmuted himself on Gon’s end. Gon shivered at the sound of Killua’s voice in his ear, up close and personal even if it wasn’t all just for him. It was for thousands of others, too.

“You’re right,” Killua said. Gon put his hands to his cheeks again as he watched the chat explode with aggressive backlash, demanding that Killua keep Gon online, demanding that Gon just go with it. Heat pushed through Gon’s cheeks and pulsed against his fingertips, turning them numb as he shivered. He was filled to the brim with energy after having spent the entire day away from HvsH.

He was a goddamn junkie now and he knew it. To top it off, he was a junkie for hearing Killua’s voice in his ear.

These obsessions were both terrible, in their own ways.

Killua leant against one armrest, gripping the other with white knuckles as he grinned at a screen off camera. “I don’t have to play with you—but I could fight you.”

Gon blinked, struck. “Wh-What do you mean?” he said. “We’re teammates—we can’t—” Teammates in HvsH couldn’t attack one another.

Unless…

“Let’s hop in sandbox. Turn on hostility,” he said.

Gon had never done that before. He never even considered it. He hopped on HvsH thinking that singles, duos, and team matches were all there was to it. It was so much more than that, though. Sandbox mode opened up the entire map to a private server. It’d just be the two of them and the entire map, and Gon had to stop himself from gripping the armrests, throwing his head back, and screaming, “HELL YEAH!”

He closed his fist over his mouth and felt like he was about to burp. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Y-Yeah, that sounds fun,” and his voice cracked like a prepubescent brat.

“Yeah? You wanna try that?”

Gon wiggled around in his chair, unable to stop his toes from clenching around the edge of the chair to keep from flying off into the stratosphere. “Yeah, I wanna try that.”

“Good, okay, because I’m going to annihilate you. You better fucking be ready to get wrecked, dude,” Killua said.

“Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

“Dude, this is your lobby. You gotta set us to sandbox mode,” Killua said.

“Oh—fudge, okay, how do I do that?”

Killua cursed and explained how to switch the mode. Gon opened the menu for the player mode and gasped when he saw it at the bottom row of the screen. He clicked it and set the match for sandbox within that minute of Killua barking orders at him. He set it to randomized spawn point and checked the hostility and survival boxes.

After all the settings were cleared, Gon squealed, “Ey! Okay, okay, I did it. I’m so happy—okay, entering the match.”

“Fucking animal,” Killua huffed as the game loaded up and deposited them on random points of the map.

Gon leant forward, eyes wide and energy at an all-time high. His heart was racing so fast in his chest he thought he might faint. His head felt woozy as he took in the scene of a city he had never spawned in. He frowned and said, “I’ve never been here before.”

“Don’t… fucking tell me where you are. I’m gonna hunt you down, Freakss, I swear to God,” Killua snarled in his ear. “And don’t look at my fucking stream.”

“Ah! Okay, sorry, I have it open right now.”

“Dude, turn that shit off. No cheating.”

“Sorry! Ah! Okay, it’s closed,” Gon said.

He set to work looting the nearest skyscraper and gasped when he picked up a sprite of ammunition and wound up with a the exact weapon Alluka had urged him to grab during their match with Killua. He gasped at it—it wasn’t the sort of weapon you’d find lying around all willy-nilly. He snatched that shit up as Killua commented, “You… find something good over there?”

“Yeah I found a cool gun. It’s gold,” he said. He tried it out and, upon shooting it, it took down an entire wall in one epic blast and rocketed through the window. It collided with the neighboring building.

“Fuck, dude, I heard that. I’m fucking coming for you,” Killua said.

“Oh—Oh geez, okay,” Gon said, realizing that he barely had enough ammo to defend himself. Did he want to fight Killua?

Yes, yes he did.

Killua snorted a little and laughed, saying, “Whatever, dude. Chat wants to know what you’re majoring in since you go to school with Alluka.”

“Majoring in?” Gon said, humming a little. “I’m majoring in zoology.”

“So you like animals or some shit?”

“I hecking love animals, you don’t understand,” Gon said. “I grew up on a farm. I thought about going into veterinary school to care for farm animals, but I’m… not great at the maths part of it all.”

“Chat wants to know if you, like, ride horses or something.”

“Yeah, we had horses.”

“So you were, like, a horse girl or something?”

Gon frowned as he cracked open a chest and gathered the goods. “Well, no. I didn’t ride horses competitively. I just rode them to get around, I guess.”

“Chat wants to know your relationship status.”

Gon paused to scratch the side of his face. He wanted to open Killua’s stream but he didn’t want to be accused of cheating. Instead, he asked, “What about what you want to know?”

Killua laughed darkly and said, “I don’t give two shits, Freakss.”

Gon hummed and said, “But then why are you asking?”

“‘Cause chat wants to know, dude. Just answer the fucking question.”

“Why do you care what chat wants to know?”

“They pay my fucking bills, dude, ‘course I care about what they say. You fucking won the Twitter poll—what Twitter says, goes.”

“So if you care what they say… then you care about what they’re saying… so by that logic you care about my relationship status?” Gon said. He had been thinking so intently about it that his person stopped at the edge of the stairwell in an idle position for a solid minute.

It was deadly quiet on Killua’s end—to the point where Gon wondered if Killua muted himself. Gon turned around and started going up the stairs as he waited for Killua’s response.

When at last the silence was broken, a shiver rolled up Gon’s spine at the sound of Killua’s deadly calm voice whispering in his ear, “I’m going to tear you limb-by-limb, Freakss.”

Gon wasn’t sure if he was turned on or just plain excited. Either way, he was shocked by the sadistic smile that spread across his face as he pulled his knees close to his chest and hummed delightfully into his headset mic. He propped his chin up on his knees and said, “Looking forward to it, Caillou.”

And then, a massive blast shook the entire floor. The collision sent debris flying and took out ten points of Gon’s health as he shrieked in surprise and dropped through the fresh gap in the floor. He hit the ground with another scream when Catwoman came bursting through the hole in the wall from where she had been posted on the neighboring roof, unbeknownst to Gon.

“Gotchya,” Killua purred in Gon’s ear and fuck it, if Gon wasn’t high on adrenaline and arousal now.

Gon screamed and started firing like mad. He was still holding the golden rocket launcher and wound up demolishing the floor they were on. He took thirty damage from that, on top of the bullet Killua just lodged in his beefy pecs—but that wasn’t what brought the fight to a swift end.

The rocket launcher completely obliterated Killua.

Gon would have cursed if he had any swear words left. Instead, he bit his lip and winced as Killua screamed in his headset, “FUCK YOU! That was—You just launched my ass to Mars, you didn’t even —Fucking rematch, Freakss.”

“You—You wanna keep playing?” Gon said, shocked.

“Let’s fucking go, Freakss. Respawn, bitch, and I’ll shove my foot up your ass for real this time.”

Gon bit back his smile, but it persisted and kept him giddy through his respawn loading time. He could hear Killua talking to his chat through his headphones and felt light and feathery on the inside realizing that Killua wasn’t muting himself like he did before. It felt odd, being on the outskirts of Killua’s conversations with the chat, but it made him feel like he was in his own match listening to Killua’s stream in the background. It felt as though he wasn’t even on the same map as Killua, let alone on the same level.

This time, Gon spawned in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere with no sense of direction. He decided to just keep walking without looking back and figured that, when the time came, he’d panic about Killua finding him later.

Killua cleared his throat and Gon straightened a little in his seat, poised and ready to chat.

“Okay, another question from chat.”

“Okay.”

“And just to be clear: This isn’t me talking. This is chat.”

“Right, not Caillou, just chat.”

“Fucking Hell—Alright, have you streamed before?”

“No, this is the first video game I’ve ever played,” he said.

“For Chrissake. Are you serious? I told you not to fuck with me about this.”

“I’m completely serious,” he said, shaking his head. “I lived on a farm as a kid and was in sports—I didn’t have time for video games. I also have the worst attention span known to mankind.”

“Why’s that?”

“I can’t watch movies.”

He could practically hear Killua rolling his eyes. “Okay, whatever. Lots of people say that. What’s your favorite movie then?”

“I don’t know. The longest I’ve ever watched a movie was… ten minutes, and that was Kiki’s Delivery Service,” he said, frowning. “I don’t know how it ended…”

“The longest you’ve ever watched a movie was ten minutes?” Killua said.

“Yeah, I fall asleep really easily if I’m sitting still,” he confessed, wincing. Zushi only thought it was annoying the first three times before coming to terms with the fact that Gon would be out cold long before their movie sessions were over.

“You narcoleptic or some shit?”

“No, I’m just… I get bored really easily. I had to give up a bunch of my hobbies after the whole hospital debacle last weekend. I can’t even bike, I can’t play ultimate frisbee—”

“Hold on, hold on,” Killua said, frantic. Gon clammed his mouth shut and worried he’d said too much. “You were in the hospital? Why?”

“Medical emergency,” he said, tapping a finger to his chin. He kept running onwards, weaving between trees and lunging down hills.

“You got a GoFundMe or some shit?”

Gon laughed a little and sighed, “No, I’m fine now, but I just can’t go to the gym for another week and a half. I miss it—but Zushi made me this account so emotionally, I’m feeling better now.”

“Fuck—You work out?”

“Yeah, I love working out.”

“You fit, bro?”

“I guess.”

“How much do you bench?”

“Two hundred.”

“Holy—” Something crashed and Killua cursed and started coughing.

Gon’s brow furrowed but he kept running. He ducked into an abandoned homestead and started rooting around for ammunition. He had a decent firearm on him—a powerful sniper rifle, which he figured was his best chance at beating Killua again now that Killua was on the warpath.

Killua returned to the headset along with the sound of a water bottle sloshing and snapping closed. Killua let out a satisfied sigh before barking, “Shut the fuck up—I’m thirsty. My throat was dry.”

“Do you work out?” Gon asked.

“Yeah, I work out. This ass isn’t gonna stay round and bulbous on its own when I’m out here playing HvH.”

“Oh,” Gon said. “How often do you play Hunter versus Hunter?”

“Eight, nine hours a day? Something like that, I don’t fucking know. We’re at seven hours today—thank you very much, chat, for reminding me that I don’t have a life.”

“I’m sure you have a life,” Gon said with a cheery tone, smiling at the neighboring monitor. He expected to see Killua’s stream there, but instead, he found it empty. He cleared his throat awkwardly and turned back to the game. “What do you do in your free time?”

“I… play HvH. Edit videos. Work out. Answer questions on Twitter. If I’m lucky I get fucked up.”

“Oh, so you like to party?”

“Is that a meme or are you seriously asking?”

“Seriously asking!” Gon said.

Gon’s habitual chattering scored him friends in “high places”, so to speak, if those high places happened to be on the university social ladder. There wasn’t much of a social hierarchy in university outside of Greek Life, so friend groups tended to scatter. He tried his best to be in all of them—his gym squad, his dorm squad, soccer and frisbee, and his fraternity squad. He wasn’t a terrible partier, by any means—he still needed to be the man that Aunt Mito-san was proud of, of course—but being on every sports team back in high school meant that, when he wasn’t helping out at home, he was with his buddies setting shit on fire.

A massive bonfire, coca-cola, music, and marshmallows was Gon’s idea of a good time.

“Then yeah. Yeah, I like to party.”

Gon gasped aloud and said, “Oh, good! Me, too! You know I took Alluka to her first frat party, right?”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You did not. She says she’s never been to one.”

“Dude, we’ve been to, like, seven together. First after Welcome Weekend, and then for Homecoming, Halloween, Christmas—”

“I’m gonna break your fucking neck, man.”

“Why?! I’m telling the truth!”

“Yeah, and Alluka’s my little sister and you’re taking her to frat parties! Everyone—EVERYONE! Shut the FUCK UP. GOD. ENOUGH WITH THE ‘CHEERS FOR CAILLOU’ BULLSHIT. I’m not calling out every time one of you fuckers decides to drop 69 cents into my goddamn tip jar, for fuck’s sake.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Alluka is a very classy drunk,” Gon said. “She’s very prim and proper. She moms the entire group and gets us all to leave by midnight.”

“You’ve gotten her drunk?!” Killua screamed so loudly the audio crackled on Gon’s headset. He winced at the searing sound on the speaker and plucked the cuff away from his ear. “What is wrong with you?! She’s, like, seventeen! You’re twenty!”

“Yeah, and I told you once and I’ll tell you again: Alluka is…? Come on, say it with me. Alluka is… not on my…?”

“I don’t give a SHIT about your menu! Where the HELL ARE YOU, COWARD?! I’M GONNA TEAR YOUR ASS TO SMITHEREENS, MOTHERFUCKER—”

Gon giggled maniacally. He equipped the rocket launcher and started lighting up the place. He fired one off every few seconds just to see how far it would go, so the smoke trail would lead Killua straight to him. He knew the instant Killua saw it because a second later, Killua was shrieking in his ear, “You think you’re TOUGH SHIT, FREAKSS, DON’T YOU?! I’M GONNA WIPE THAT SMUG GRIN OFF YOUR UGLY MUG.”

Gon cackled. He kicked his foot out and wound up slamming his shin into the desk. His mouth fell open in a silent scream of agony before squeezing out a pained, “Ow… Holy Mother Theresa—”

“Yeah, pray now, motherfucker ‘cause I’m gonna kick your ass into Hell.”

“Well, at least we can both agree where I’m going,” Gon muttered, thinking back to Zushi’s comment on his moral integrity.

KILLU uploaded a video!

Newbie ANNIHILATES Kill in Sandbox Mode — FOR FIVE HOURS

04:23 KILLUA: Do you wanna watch the vid before I upload

04:33 KILLUA: ok I waited ten min you’ll see it in the morning

06:02 GON: How are you awake at four in the morning?

06:02 GON: Also I don’t think I ever agreed to you making videos about me 😔

13:14 KILLUA: Quit looking at me like that

13:16 GON: 😖

13:16 KILLUA: For fuck’s sake Gons

13:17 GON: My name’s GON 😩

13:17 GON: I give you my love and joy and you don’t even remember my name 😣

13:17 KILLUA: Jesus Christ

13:17 GON: We spent a BEAUTIFUL NIGHT TOGETHER

13:18 KILLUA: GON

13:18 KILLUA: FUCK

13:18 GON: And you SELL MY LOVE ON THE INTERWEBS 😫😫😫

13:18 KILLUA: I know what your fucking name is, alright??

13:18 KILLUA: Don’t make it sound like you’re a PROSTITUTE YOU AREN’T EVEN GETTING PAID

13:19 GON: I don’t know WHAT’S WORSE 😢

13:19 KILLUA: Look someone donated $420.69 last night and tagged it “Gons medical bill”

13:19 KILLUA: I’ll buy you a headset with it so you don’t sound like ass on the videos

13:19 GON: 😣

13:19 KILLUA: What’s your dorm room number

13:22 GON: 😖

13:22 KILLUA: You’re a piece of work aren’t you

13:25 KILLUA: Look, Gon

13:25 KILLUA: Did Alluka ever tell you that I’m paying for her tuition?

13:26 GON: No 😢

13:26 KILLUA: Yeah so you being in my videos is basically paying her tuition

13:27 KILLUA: Does that change the situation?

13:27 GON: A little 😔

13:48 KILLUA: I’ll just get your room number from Alluka or whatever

Gon got a notification that Saturday evening from the front desk alerting him to a package. Gon had only ever used Standard Shipping and therefore, was more than a little alarmed that he was getting a notification just hours after his conversation with Killua.

With all of the times Killua mentioned Twitter, Gon figured he should probably get on that. His now-private account was still blistering with activity. It was enough to make him cringe and, so, he made a new Twitter on which he followed Zushi, Alluka, and KILLU.

Killua’s account was verified, as it was on every form of social media, it seemed. Gon scrolled through Killua’s tweets as he descended in the elevator to the first floor. Half of Killua’s tweets were in responses to articles, threads, memes. The other half were alert tweets to let the world know that he was going live on Twitch, and most of them were accompanied by photos featuring satirical Gamer Girl poses or the complete opposite—Killua lying, starfish, on the ground looking like Zushi with his hoodie all tied up.

He padded across the lobby barefoot and stopped at the sight of a massive box sitting on the counter, completely blocking his view of the student worker. The RA peered up over the box with a smile and said, “Hey, what can I do for you?”

“Uh…” Gon said, head tipped to the side. He read the label and it was, indeed, addressed to him. “I… believe I’ve got a package? For Gon Freecss.”

“Ah, just a moment. Sign this here,” she said, passing a clipboard over the box for Gon to sign. Gon took up one of the pens and jotted his name in. He wondered if he’d even be able to carry it up—he was worried about heavy lifting, and it had only been a week since Gon felt the most excruciating pain his entire existence had the misfortune of experiencing.

He passed the clipboard over and the box was nudged closer to him. “Just a second,” he said, awkwardly, and took out his phone to text Zushi.

Five minutes later, Zushi joined him at the front lobby desk.

“Holy mother of pearl,” Zushi said, nudging Gon in the side, “as you would say.”

“I’ve got until midnight tonight, then I’ll have a clean slate,” Gon said with a flourish, hands on his hips, proud. He made it through the entire week just barely on the cusp of breaking his fifteen swear count, but he did it nonetheless.

“What the Hell did you buy, though? A life supply of Poptarts?” Zushi said, gesturing to the box.

“I wish I knew,” he confessed. He pulled up Killua’s Twitter on his phone and showed him the poll from that afternoon.

Zushi pulled the phone closer, squinting obnoxiously, as he read the Tweet aloud. “‘I got some tips specifically addressed to the rat-faced newbie. What do I send him? A) A Dragon, B) Headset, C) New Monitor, D) Webcam, or E)… All of the above.’”

The two of them stared at the box looming over them. Gon wondered if Zushi was picturing a dragon, too.

Zushi reached over and slid the box off and into his arms. He heaved it up and, with Gon leading the way, they returned to the dorm room. Gon held the door open for Zushi, who was struggling under the weight of the box. He set it on the futon for Gon to open. Before that could happen, though, they took to staring at it for another several moments until Gon at last relented and went to get a scissors.

He slit open the tape and unfolded the cardboard flaps. He held them down and peered inside. Zushi leant over, kneeling on the futon, to look inside at the boxes pieced together. Gon pulled out one of the smaller boxes, first. There were three boxes in total, and the first of which had a webcam enclosed in it.

“I… don’t know how to use this,” he confessed.

Zushi snatched it and said, “I’ll teach you. What else is in there?”

He loosened the next box and lifted it up. There was an image on the front of a slick-looking headset with a fairly intense mic connected to it. It was padded, black, and had green accents. Gon wondered if it was just a coincidence, or if Alluka told Killua that Gon’s favorite color was green.

A knock sounded on their door. Gon jumped in surprise at the sound of Alluka’s voice on the other end, singing, “Let me in!”

Speak of the Devil and She shall appear, Gon thought, eyes wide.

Zushi got up to let Alluka in. He stepped back with a flourish, sweeping his arm out into a low bow. “Enter, m’lady,” he said.

Alluka gave Zushi a pat on the head as she passed him, skirt swishing, and collapsed on the edge of the futon with a bright smile. “Killua said the package arrived—looks like you already dug in. Let me see the webcam,” she said, reaching out with a grabby gesture. Zushi deposited the box into her hands and she hummed in delight. She pointed to his headset and said, “Ooh, that’s a good one.”

Gon set the headset aside and reached for the final box. It was massive, larger than his entire torso. He staggered with it, nearly cursing as he went. Zushi caught him and helped alleviate some of the weight. Alluka held up her phone and snapped a picture of them with a giggle. “Hey, no photos!” Zushi whined.

“You two are so cute, though. I’m just picturing you two as, like, middle-aged LA dads in your minimalist apartment,” Alluka said as Zushi rolled his eyes and groaned and griped some more. Gon laughed and helped him set the box gently on the carpet.

The box was for a monitor—a 4K monitor, to be exact, and it had a bowed curve to it. Gon didn’t feel as though he deserved it in the slightest, so he looked up at Zushi from over the box and said, “I won’t use it as much as you will. What if you take this one and you could give me one of your old ones?”

“Really?” Zushi said. His voice was eager, though—not as uncertain as it would have been for Gon. Gon smiled as Zushi let out a shocked huff, slumping back on one hand. He threw an arm up and slapped his hand onto his lap and said, “I mean, sure. Hell yeah, I’ll take it off your hands.”

“Hey, boys,” Alluka called. Both Gon and Zushi looked back at the futon, eyes bright and smiley, only to be captured in another photo. Zushi’s smile flatlined in an instant and Gon couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face.

Gon fell back giggling, clutching at his stomach as Zushi scrambled to his feet, saying, “Did you take another picture?!”

“No! I took a video this time,” Alluka said, all proud, like she just executed the most diabolical plan yet. Zushi shoved his hand in front of the lens as Alluka shrieked and Gon rolled on the ground laughing.

Chapter Text

Alluka’s phone buzzed on the ground. A moment later, the hammock rustled over it and Alluka’s foot popped out. Gon tucked his chin against the hem of his hammock and watched as she felt around for the grass with her toes before at last putting her weight on it and emerging from it. The phone buzzed so violently it shifted in the grass and tipped against the tree root. Alluka huffed, tossing her hair back, and ducked down to pick it up.

She answered the call with a cheery, “Hey! Uh—Yeah, he’s right here.”

Gon rose an eyebrow when Alluka looked at him.

Something wormed against his side. Gon fell back into the hammock and looked at where Zushi faced him, his feet at Gon’s hip and his head propped up on a pillow. He was working on his laptop, and when Alluka said, “You called me just to talk to him?” Zushi wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Gon kicked him in the side.

“Oh, fuck,” Zushi grunted and retaliated by doing the same.

Gon’s side cramped where the stitches were under his armpit. He ground out a low curse. It was Sunday and therefore Swearing Time. He slammed his fist down on Zushi’s shin before Zushi had the chance to apologize.

“Hey, guys, stop playing footsie,” Alluka said.

“We aren’t—!” Zushi shrieked, horrified.

Gon started poking Zushi incessantly in the side because now, Zushi couldn’t fight back without the guilt of possibly tearing open Gon’s tube outlet. Zushi’s squishy tummy tensed up and he thrashed about, slamming his laptop shut, and escaping the hammock with a twist. The hammock tipped and Gon cursed again.

“You’re down two!” Zushi said with a triumphant shout, leaping in the air.

Gon gripped the hammock to steady it, thinking, Damn you for knowing my weakness! He flipped Zushi off—good-naturedly, of course—and Zushi stuck his tongue out.

“Gon, turn your phone on,” Alluka said.

“I can’t,” he said.

“Why can’t you?”

“It’s at the dorm,” he confessed with a weak, apologetic smile.

Alluka sighed. “Gon’s pretending to be allergic to technology again,” she said to her phone, turning away with a hand on her hip. “Yeah, I’ll let him know. Hey, Gon? Killua says you’re the most boring person alive and he hopes you die.”

“Really? He said that?” Gon said, eyes wide. There was no hope for him. He sounded hopeful, like Killua had just told his little sister that Gon had pretty eyes or some shit.

“Also, since we’re talking about it,” Alluka said, reaching down to pick up her shoe. Gon straightened a little. He knew what was coming and he was prepared for it. What he wasn’t prepared for, though, was the force behind her throw. He tried to swat the shoe away and wound up with a face-full of dirt. He sputtered, blinking fast as Alluka said, “That is for ratting me out.”

“For what?!” Gon said.

“For partying, you asshat!” she said. Gon startled with a childish, incomprehensible whine. Alluka was scowling at him as she tossed her hair back with a huff as if to say, “There. I’ve got aim, too, Freecss.”

Alluka handed the phone to him then, but he recoiled from it stubbornly. He stiff-armed her when she tried to shove it in his hand, and then she tried to wedge it between his ear and shoulder. He writhed and squirmed before at last twisting so violently, the entire hammock tipped towards the ground. He let out a scream as he landed on the side his cavity tube outlet used to be.

Alluka gasped, “Oh no! Gon, are you okay?! You didn’t tear open your stitches, did you?”

Gon groaned, face-planted in the grass. He felt around his armpit with a wince and moaned, “No, I didn’t… it’s fine…”

He grunted as he rose to his elbows and started coughing. Alluka had a hand over her mouth in horror. Zushi was on the grass somewhere in the distance, half-raising at the sight of Gon’s fall out of the hammock. Gon pushed himself to his knees, coughing into the crook of his elbow. “I think I just murdered Gon,” Alluka whispered into the phone.

“I’m f-fine,” he insisted between wheezing huffs. “It’s —good to cough. Here, hand me the phone.”

Alluka seemed hesitant to give it up now but eventually passed it over the hammock to Gon. He coughed into his elbow once more before croaking out, “Hey.”

“Wow, you sound like shit,” Killua said.

“It happens now and again, I guess,” he said with a weak, breathy laugh. “What’s up?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, dumbass.”

“Oh, what do you need?”

“You. Sitting your ass down for a stream. We’ll get your webcam set up for FaceTime.”

Gon shivered at the start for an entirely different reason for the shudder that immediately followed. He grimaced. He had already decided not to open the webcam box. Something about showing Killua his face gave him the heebie-jeebies, but then again, he spent all this time staring at Killua’s face. It was only fair. Besides, we have each other on Snapchat—not that… we’ve ever sent photos to each other…

Gon sat back on his heels with a terse look on his face. He probably looked constipated, but at least Killua couldn’t see him. Alluka stole his hammock and leant over the edge of it to watch Gon’s face as he considered his options.

He cleared his throat and asked, “Right now?”

“Yeah. My buddy’s got a cursed surprise for us.”

“Buddy? Cursed? Surprise?” Gon said all at once, getting to his feet. Behind him, Zushi whispered to Alluka, “Is that code for something?”

“You’ve heard of Ikalgo, right? Tell me you’ve heard of my guy, my pride and joy, knight-in-shining-armor? Or do you actually live under a rock?” Killua said.

“I-I know Ikalgo,” Gon said, and immediately, Zushi was gasping. Gon spun around to him, waving his hands to shut Zushi up, but Zushi was already hissing, “What’s he saying?! What about Ikalgo?!”

“We’re switching to Just Chatting in an hour. Be there or be square, Freakss.”

With that, Killua hung up on him. Gon stared at the screen in shock. And then, he looked up to where Alluka was staring at them.

Alluka said, “Is he stealing you from me again?”

Gon winced. That action said it all. Alluka flopped back with a groan and moaned, “Be gone, fool.” Before Gon could get very far, though, she snapped her fingers at him and said, “You still have my phone.”

“Oh, right,” Gon said and gingerly handed it back with both hands raised, one knee on the grass. “My liege.”

Alluka snatched it unceremoniously. “Be gone!” she said, flicking her hand at him. He scrambled to his feet, shouldered his backpack, and was off. He scurried down the grassy hill with Zushi shouting after him, “Don’t run, you idiot!”

He skidded to a casual stroll and turned back with an apologetic wave. “Right! Sorry!”

“What’re you apologizing for?!” Zushi shouted back. A second later, he screamed, “Look out! Bike—behind you!”

Gon staggered to a halt and narrowly missed being taken out by a bicyclist. Gon apologized profusely, but the biker didn’t stick around for it. He put his hands on his head to straighten it on his shoulders because clearly something was out of place.

Gon power-walked back to the dorm, fully aware of the ghost of his physician scowling at him in the shape of his conscience. All the while, his brain was sparking with ideas, trying to figure out what, exactly, Ikalgo had in mind. That train of thought eventually spiraled into the excitement that Ikalgo knew who he was. Granted, Gon was entirely fresh to the world of streaming and video games in general, but he knew what celebrities were and Killua and Ikalgo were both definitely it. Their millions of Youtube subscribers, their verified accounts, the following that had demolished Gon’s Twitter account—it all hinted at their fame.

Gon thought about the set up Killua bought him.

And also their fortune, I suppose, he thought, insides fluttering with excitement. He felt a little nauseous, but mostly excited—that seemed to be the theme of his HvsH sessions in KILLU’s lobby.

Since coming to terms with the fact that Alluka was, essentially, his friend because of Killua, Gon was less hesitant to… be hesitant. The initial guilt of spending all his time playing HvsH, however, began to build as more time spanned between the present and his pneumothorax. At the end of the two week period, Gon would have no excuses to play the game, so he made his decision. He’d use whatever time he had left of his recovery to exploit his access to HvsH and then, when the doc gave him the O.K., he’d eject the disk and stuff it into the back of his desk drawer. It would be as though the game never existed.

But for now, he’d indulge a side of himself he never considered before.

Gon all but flew into the dorm. The door banged against the wall as he cruised in, startling the student worker at the desk. “Sorry! Sorry,” he cried, throwing his arms up as he continued on his way, speed-walking through the lobby. He hopped into the elevator, tapping his foot on the rug as the number over the door ticked lower and lower before at last chiming open.

It took ages to get to the room. An entire era pass before Gon at last arrived at his dorm door. He wondered if, during that time, his hair greyed. The first thing he did was check in the mirror and felt his fingers shaking through his hair. He looked fine. He looked fine! Everything was fine.

He threw his backpack onto the futon and vaulted on after it. He swung his laptop out and gently, slowly, deposited it onto his desk where Zushi’s monitors now were. After that was said and done, he took out the webcam box and was immediately lost.

He called Killua on Snapchat.

“Hey.”

“Killua! I mean, Caillou!” Gon screamed.

“I’m going to slaughter you alive—You’re on speaker phone, the entire chat just heard you.”

“Ah! Sorry, sorry—” he said, closing his eyes in horror. He put his head on the desk and groaned. I just used his real name! He wanted to punt his own ass into the atmosphere. “I’ve never used a webcam before. How do I do this?”

“You’ve never—Of fucking course you haven’t. Alright, first thing’s first: Open the damn box.”

Killua walked him through the steps of assembling the camera and pinning it to the top of the monitor. Gon plugged in his laptop like he had on Zushi’s desk. He was glad he was at least familiar with Zushi’s monitors—he felt at home with them, unlike with the new webcam and headset. Killua talked him through downloading the webcam software and connecting the headset audio to it, and soon, Killua was sending his number to Gon through their Snapchat conversation.

Gon nearly called him straight away, but Killua snapped at him, “Wait a second, hotshot, I’ve gotta get Ikalgo. Folks—idiots and imbeciles of Twitch, Ikalgo’s taking over my stream. I’m still gonna be here but Ikalgo’s running the ship now. I just gotta go get him.”

“Okay,” Gon said.

“Thank you, Freakss, for speaking for the entire fucking chat. Christ,” Killua huffed.

Gon brought up the stream just as Killua was leaving, and Gon would have been disappointed if he hadn’t just watched Killua’s retreating ass. Gon put his face in his hands and willed himself to calm down. He didn’t have a tendency to blush—even working out, his face rarely flushed—but he could feel the heat now like the flames from Hell were lighting a fire under his ass. He squirmed around in his chair, crossing his legs, and sitting still for as long as it took for him to realize something.

Did Killua mute me?

I guess I’ll only find out if I ask…

“I wonder if he muted me,” he pondered aloud, a finger to his lips. He looked expectantly at the chat. Even with Killua gone, the chat didn’t slow down for a second. All at once, a flurry of, “YES WE CAN HEAR YOU GONS,” popped on scream. Gon giggled with a bright smile and said, “Amazing! Wow, so many people.”

“STOP TALKING TO MY CHAT, FREAKSS!” Killua screamed from afar.

“Shoot—I mean, shit—I can swear now,” Gon said, gasping a little. “Okay, that’s three down this week and it’s only Sunday.”

Killua came marching into the room then, cursing up a storm. He pointed a finger at the computer, right at the camera, right to where Gon yelped in alarm. “I fucking mean it, Freakss. My turf now.”

“But they wanna know how my day’s been! It’s been really good—I was just outside having a hammock party with Zushi and Alluka,” Gon said as Killua cruised back to his seat, tearing it away from the desk so that it flew back and hit the bed. Gon just kept talking about anything and everything—the weather, Alluka getting the call from Killua—until Killua stared the camera down and said, “I muted you, you piece of shit. I’ll be right back.”

When Killua returned, it was with a familiar, stocky lad with black hair and black, square glasses. Ikalgo gasped as soon as he came in sight of Killua’s camera, lunging to the side with a wide stance. Killua told him to cut it out and grab a seat. The two of them claimed the screen space and didn’t unmute Gon even as Ikalgo gave the opening speech.

“Okay, here’s the deal, guys,” Ikalgo said, clapping his hands loudly. He leant forward past his armrests, staring the camera down as he said, “Tonight, I’ve got a special treat for you guys. It’s called a little Bedtime Story featuring your favorite bastard, KILLU, and Gons Freakss. That’s right—we’re reading fanfiction.”

Gon had never heard of such a thing before in his life. He heard of bedtime stories, though, so he imagined it had something to do with that.

“Now is the time, though. I was gonna wait until there was a larger selection of material to work with, but then Kill went and jumped the gun and bought our boy Gons a webcam and I just don’t want to give our dear authors the time to correct their mistakes, you know what I’m saying. I want to know what the people think Gons looks like, so to speak, while also roasting them for not getting it right.”

“So you’re gonna read fanfiction about me and Gons. Seems plausible to me,” Killua said. He reached over to unmute Gon’s mic.

“I don’t know what fanfiction… is…” he confessed with a grimace.

Ikalgo stared at him through the camera before looking back at Killua, who seemed to have shut down all motor function. Killua merely blinked at him as Ikalgo turned back with a startled blink and said, “You don’t… My God, we’ve found a real life hermit.”

“I’m not a hermit!” Gon cried, exasperated. Ikalgo gave a startled jump just for emphasis, a hand over his heart. “I just—I don’t get the internet. I only use it for homework and, like, Googling stupid stuff.”

“Prove it. What’s in your Google search history,” Killua demanded.

Ikalgo put his hand up to stop them both. “Enough of this tomfoolery. Call the man on FaceTime so we can settle this like men.”

Gon called Killua as instructed and a moment later, he was viewing Ikalgo and Killua from a different angle—perched from another monitor. From here he could see Killua’s five entire monitors the size of the entire North American continent. Gon marveled at them as a second passed before screaming, “You’ve got so many monitors!”

Killua and Ikalgo were staring at his screen. Gon leant back, clearing his throat. Slowly, Ikalgo tipped his head to the side and looked at Killua, who clammed his mouth shut and turned a glare onto the stream chat. A steady, maniacal smile spread across Ikalgo’s lips and soon, a devious laugh came with it.

“Fuck you,” Killua seethed.

“Who, me or Gons?”

Killua violently shoved his hand into Ikalgo’s face. Ikalgo was howling with laughter, fighting back by waving his hands about like mad. Ikalgo shrieked, “Man! This is the greatest day of my life!” before breaking out of Killua’s chokehold to lean over the desk and get up close and personal to the screen where Gon’s face, it seemed, was on the stream. Gon hadn’t even realized it—he had completely forgotten about the stream set up where his face was now pinned to the screen alongside Ikalgo and Killua. Killua was in the background with a hand over his face, slumped in his chair, as Ikalgo’s face took up the majority of the frame with a borderline serial-killer smile.

Ikalgo said, “Alluka failed to mention you were cute. You should come on my stream sometime—I’ll treat you better than this rat-bastard—”

The rest of the words cut out when Killua yanked him back by the collar of his sweatshirt and shoved him back into his seat. Killua gave him a firm, threatening pat on the chest before saying, “Enough of that horseshit.”

“Speaking of horseshit—I’ve got some for you right here,” Ikalgo said, waving his phone in the air. “Titled, the Cowboy and the Vampire.”

“I swear to God, if I’m the cowboy…” Killua seethed with a shake of his head.

“I don’t know what any of this means,” Gon said.

“I’ll read the synopsis for you, my dude, my guy, the apple of my eye—hang tight, you delicate dandelion, perfect boy,” Ikalgo soothed, stroking his hand at the webcam until Killua slapped it down.

Ikalgo cleared his throat.

The wild, open wasteland of the West was no place for a vampire. Stuck with a diet of only buffalo, Kill the Vampire—

“The ‘V’ is capitalized,” Ikalgo iterated.

Killua had a hand over his face, shoulders shaking. He looked pained as he shook his head and said, “I don’t fucking care. Just keep going.”

Kill the Vampire yearns for the day he’ll return to civilization. He yearns for the day he’ll once again taste human flesh and blood. The wild West, however, is home to one particular man. The West is his turf, born and raised. That man… is Gons Freakss. Lord only knows what will transpire when Kill finds Gons once and for all.

“Is the ‘Lord only knows’ part in there, or was that just you commenting on it,” Killua asked.

“Oh, it’s in there all right,” Ikalgo said, slapping his hand on his leg. He looked up with a giddy smile and a wistful sigh. “So, I suppose I should warn you: This is rated E—and not for everyone. It’s a whopping 12k fic, so it’s got some meat on it considering this was only just started on Thursday.”

“So…” Gon started, uncomfortably. His brow felt tight over his wary eyes as he said, “Someone wrote… about Kill and I?”

“Yeah, it’s called Real Person Fanfiction,” Ikalgo explained. “Kill’s got a total of 86 fanfics about him and we’ve read nearly all of them—wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, and I’m scarred for life,” Killua said, rolling his eyes away from the screen. “Might as well scar you, too, I guess. You in or out, Freakss?”

Gon settled back in his chair, knees pulled up. He pursed his lips as he tapped his finger against his knee and sighed through his nose. His chest felt tight, and not in a my-lung’s-about-to-collapse-like-a-black-hole sort of way. His excitement for playing HvsH was still there, but it was… evolving. It felt more like when he, Zushi, and Alluka all first became friends. He wanted to take them out to get tea and just chat all through the afternoon.

He just wanted to hang out with Ikalgo and Killua.

He straightened with a smile and nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Oh! Oh, he’s in! Alright, here we go. Chapter One: A Chance Encounter.”

Ikalgo started reading in a dramatic, British, movie-trailer voice that had Gon giggling halfway through the first paragraph. Gon pushed his hands to his cheeks as Ikalgo shushed him, but he couldn’t stop. It was too ridiculous—hearing something written from Killua’s perspective that wasn’t actually Killua. He looked to Killua’s face on his FaceTime panel and found Killua glowering at the screen. His ears were red with the embarrassment of hearing internal monologue along the lines of, “It had been too long since Kill had set eyes on mortal flesh.”

“It must be lonely out here,” Kill breathed as soft as the wind against Gons’ bare skin. Gons couldn’t stand to sleep with clothes on—he wanted to feel connected to the earth beneath his blanket.

“I could say the same to you. You look like you could use… the company.”

Gons pushed a hand to Kill’s shoulder, lying him back on the blanket. Kill was momentarily paralyzed by the proximity of Gons’ intoxicating scent, and the heat of his human skin against his own. He thought he wanted human blood, after all this time, but now? Now all he wanted was human cock in his—

“Ah! Stop, stop stop!” Gon screamed, hands over his face. He shuddered in horror, half-gagging, as Ikalgo roared with laughter. Gon clasped his hands together over his mouth to keep from screaming.

“We were just getting to the good shit!” Killua shouted, throwing a hand down.

Gon shook his head again, eyes squeezed shut like he just ate something incredibly sour. “I don’t like to top. Can we find another one where I’m not the top?”

“Jesus Christ—It isn’t REAL, GON!”

“I just—I don’t like it!”

“We could switch the names,” Ikalgo offered with a perplexed, thoughtful expression on his face. He looked to Killua for permission, and Killua looked like he was about to snap the armrests off of his chair.

“I’m not gonna be the fucking cowboy who sleeps in the nude,” Killua snarled at Ikalgo.

“I liked the part where we made dinner over the fire together. Can we read that again?” Gon said.

Killua slapped his hands over his face as Ikalgo whined, “Aw, but you weren’t nude then…”

“Why does Kill get to bottom and I don’t?” Gon said with a pout. “That’s the fun part!”

“W-We aren’t talking about logistics here!” Killua cried, voice cracking. His pale cheeks blotched over with pink in an instant as Ikalgo fell off his chair laughing. Ikalgo slammed his fist on the seat of his chair, wheezing.

“And I kind of want to be a vampire too? I think that’d be fun,” Gon said. He gasped, waving his hands about. “What if, when all that is over, you turned me into a vampire? And we roamed the West together and I’d teach you how to ride a horse.”

Killua stared at him like he just grew a second head. He ran his fingers through his hair so it stood up on end like Einstein, at which point Ikalgo returned to his seat and said, “At this rate, Gons could write fanfiction about the two of you.”

“I can do that?” Gon said.

“Don’t encourage him,” Killua snapped at Ikalgo.

Gon withered a little with a low, depressed whine. “Aw, but I’m not very good at writing. And I don’t like reading on my own.”

“Good. Don’t change that,” Killua said, snapping his fingers at the camera. Before dropping his hand, he lashed out with it and slapped Ikalgo in the shoulder. Ikalgo rubbed the spot with a frown as Killua said, “We are not giving Freakss anymore ideas.”

It was too late: Gon already had ideas. He gasped aloud, waving his hands about as he said, “What if—What if we went to the same university! And I made it onto the football team. Do you think we could both be in fraternities? Maybe just me—”

“What do you mean ‘made it,’” Killua said, and Gon was certain it was just a way to get him to stop talking about a reality in which they weren’t on opposite sides of the screen.

Gon put a finger to his chin and hummed, “Well… I was scouted in high school but then I got a concussion and my Aunt told me to stop playing. So I haven’t played football since. I get really competitive in sports.”

“Oh my God, he played football,” Ikalgo whispered, a hand over his mouth. “That explains the biceps…”

Gon frowned and held up his arm. The skin on his biceps was soft now, but he had prominent veins that showed when he flexed his muscle and looked up to see himself on camera. Instead, he saw Ikalgo pretend to be shot. Ikalgo collapsed in his chair and slumped, tongue lolling out. Meanwhile, Killua’s eyes grew to the size of Mars before he turned away, cheeks still pink.

“Fuck off—put that away,” Killua hissed.

Ikalgo resurrected. “Do you have abs, too?”

Gon frowned and looked down. “Yeah, hang on.”

He stood up and started to untuck his shirt. Killua started screaming at him to stop, but Ikalgo slapped a hand over Killua’s mouth, so Gon kept going and hoisted his shirt up just below his pecs. And then, on second thought, he lifted it up to his arm so he could show them the scar. “That’s where the tube outlet was,” he explained, pressing a finger to the scar tissue. It was still sore, but it didn’t hurt if he didn’t touch it.

As Gon picked out scars he got from when he was a kid, he didn’t expect them all to be across the internet by the following day. Before then, however, he talked with Ikalgo like they were great friends already. Gon was giddy from the thrill of making a new friend, and Ikalgo didn’t seem to mind Gon’s incessant questions about, well, everything.

“So you guys live in a house together?” Gon said.

“Yeah. Have you watched the tour?”

“Yeah! Yeah, Zushi showed it to me. It looks so nice—and you’ve got a dog. It’s amazing,” he said, hands over his cheeks.

“Hatsu is amazing. If that little shit ever came into Kill’s room, I’d introduce the two of you.” Ikalgo leant forward to whisper, as if Killua couldn’t hear him loud and clear, “Hatsu’s scared of Kill.”

“Are you two done jerking off,” Killua droned, rolling his eyes.

Gon opened his mouth to object, but was interrupted by the sound of a key in the dorm room lock. He straightened, eyes brightening as the door opened and revealed Zushi. Gon smiled and waved as Zushi slowed, eyeing the visuals on Gon’s monitors before at last coming to clasp the back of Gon’s chair.

Zushi patted Gon on the shoulder and said, “Dude, time for dinner.”

Gon startled before checking the time. They had thirty minutes left to get dinner. He hadn’t realized his stomach was at a rolling growl until that very moment. “Shoot!” Gon gasped, floundering for a second. “Okay, okay—let’s go—”

“Whoa, wait—” Killua started, but Gon was already slamming his laptop closed and unplugging the webcam.

Chapter Text

Gon added a few nice strangers on his Hunter vs Hunter account after hopping into the chat of one of PikaPika’s streams. It was the first time Gon ever thought to talk in chat after effectively blowing up Killua’s stream. He trusted Killua’s judgement and the graph of statistics Killua sent him through Snapchat that said his stream engagement spiked when Gon showed up. It hit an all-time peek after Killua made the decision to only show Gon’s face on his stream that Saturday afternoon.

As it turned out, though, a lot of people recorded the stream and uploaded clips to YouTube, which were sent to him by Alluka, Zushi, and other anonymous resources on Twitter. Killua tweeted that night after one such video popped up, saying, “Hey fuckers respect Freakss privacy. I’ll block your ass so fast your head will spin like a top.” He started copyright flagging videos left and right and Gon couldn’t quite understand how he managed it.

As it turned out, other people managed it. Management managed it.

“Killua has an agent and the AssassiNation content team has a group dedicated to copyright infringement,” Alluka explained one day over a steaming bowl of hotpot. They may have been on the brink of summer break, but Gon could never get enough of hotpot. It also meant that they were on the brink of finals—they all needed a break from the stress of studying.

He scooped out a sliver of boiled meat and let it drain for a moment. He topped it off with steamed vegetables that made his mouth water. The sheer amount of spices had the power to both burn a hole through the ozone layer while also simultaneously setting all of his nose hairs on fire.

“Why does he need an agent?” Gon asked around a mouthful of scorching hot food. His mouth fell open in a silent scream of death as his tongue was set on fire and continued to burn all the way down his throat. He waved a hand in front of his mouth, gasping, “Holy cow that’s spicy. Try it—Try it”.

“I am, I am, hold your horses,” she said, flicking her chopsticks at him.

Zushi popped a strip of pepper into his mouth and said, “Agents deal with, like, business shit. So, like, when Kill said he’s got brand deals? Tech companies and clothing brands go through his agent and whoever they are, they arrange the deals. The business side of streaming. Working with Kill’s financial advisors, that kind of stuff.”

“Wow,” Gon said, eyes wide. “He’s got advisors? He’s like a king.”

“Yeah, the king of memes,” Alluka snorted. She took a bite and pointed her chopsticks at Gon with a hum of satisfaction. “That is good.”

“Right?” Gon said with a note of fascination, disbelief. He sat back in his chair as Alluka waved her utensil around like a wand.

“Oh, but his agent—her name is Canary and she’s the sweetest thing. She sometimes drives down from San Fran to take me out to lunch whenever she has business in LA. She’s been Killua’s agent since before he became an Assassin.”

“Canary? That’s an interesting but beautiful name,” Gon said.

“Isn’t that a bird?” Zushi said, which earned him a poke from Alluka.

Gon looked up at the sound of Alluka’s phone buzzing on the table. A photo of Killua’s face glowed on the screen and Alluka picked it up as she scowled at Zushi and answered the call. She hooked an elbow onto the back of the empty seat beside her as she said, “Killua! Speak of the devil. You aren’t stealing Gon from me this time.”

Zushi snickered from beside Gon. Gon bit his lip as Alluka rolled her eyes at them and listened to Killua speaking on the phone. She sighed and said, “I’m fine, Killua. We’ve just been hanging out today. I’ve got homework later and I’m sure Gon does, too.”

Nothing that a little procrastinating can’t fix, he thought to himself with a smile as he took a bite of shredded beef from his bowl. It was soaked in delicious, spicy broth.

“I’m not putting you on speaker,” Alluka sighed. Her eyes slid over to Gon, who watched innocently from beside Zushi, who watched with evil intent. Alluka groaned and pulled the phone away from her ear. Gon half expected her to hang up on Killua, but instead, she put him on speaker and set her phone in the middle of the table a foot away from the pot and plates.

“Battle royale. You, me, Ikalgo, and Pika. Seven tonight.”

Gon nearly choked. He cleared his throat, a fist over his mouth as he squeaked, “Pika?”

“Yeah, Pika, you know them. Please tell me you know them.”

“Y-Yeah, I do,” Gon stammered, eyes wide. “I didn’t think—I mean, sure?”

“Alright. I’m thinking we’ll be playing in teams of two, all in one squad. One team does all the work and tries to keep the other team alive for as long as possible.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun. Can we be a team?” Gon asked.

“I’m not—I’m not fucking teaming up with your dumb ass, dumbass. I squad with Pika, no one else.”

“Oh! So I get to team up with Ikalgo? That’ll be fun, I like him.”

“Fuck, you two will be so annoying. Never mind, you’re teaming up with Pika.”

“I am equal parts intimidated and turned on by Pika,” Gon confessed, looking to Zushi for confirmation. Zushi let out a very loud, very abrupt, “HA,” in response.

“A) Disgusting and B) I’m telling them you said that specifically to make this pairing as awkward as humanly possible.”

Alluka giggled and Gon was grateful that he didn’t have the decency to blush. Truthfully, Pika didn’t feel real to him in the same way Ikalgo didn’t feel real before speaking with him “face-to-face”. He didn’t feel the need to be embarrassed now, especially since he and Pika never once spoke to each other.

“Okay!” Gon said.

“You’re a fucking psychopath, aren’t you? Alright, you and Pika can fuck around, I don’t give a shit. Take me off speaker, Alluka.”

“Aye, aye,” she said before claiming her phone back.

As Alluka wrapped up her phone call with Killua, Gon turned his smile onto Zushi, who shook his head in a mix of disappointment and amazement.

Ikalgo, Pika, and Killua were all streaming at the same time by the time Gon ever joined their lobby party. He was a little worried about demolishing the school’s wifi by having them all open at the same time on one monitor and HvsH on the other, but fuck it, it was worth it.

Gon settled in, legs crossed, and headset activated. The moment he came online, a party invite popped into the corner of his screen. He hit “Accept” without a second to waste. Soon, he was materializing into a full lobby of four squad members. Combined, his party had an audience of 37,000 viewers, and Gon’s brain combusted at the sight of all of them fueling the chat on his adjacent monitor. He couldn’t speak for the first minute in the lobby as the conglomeration of three voices muddled in his ears.

He pushed his cheeks up, squishing his eyes until the sound of Killua’s voice reverberated clearer and clearer in his mind.

“Hey, Gons, you there?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he croaked. He cleared his throat, cheeks aching from how wide he was smiling. “I’m just —Very excited. My braincells short-circuited there for a hot minute.”

“Yeah, all two of your braincells?” Killua said.

“Wow you weren’t kidding,” a familiar voice commented in an unimpressed drone. Pika.

“Right?!” Ikalgo cried. “The sexual tension is very real.”

Gon’s brow furrowed and he was grateful that the webcam was powered off. “Really? He just insulted me—”

“Can we just get a move on? Let’s fucking go,” Killua said.

Ikalgo let out a suggestive, “Ooo!” as Pika laughed and Gon’s brain combusted and ejected steam from his ears. Sexual tension. Gon had seen shit about it in the chat before, but he just thought Killua’s viewers were joking around, teasing them. Gon didn’t think Ikalgo and Pika would take it seriously, or even endorse it. Killua’s lame attempt at diffusing the topic, however, rather than ignoring it like he did with the chat, had Gon’s reality twisting into something it wasn’t just last week. This time last week, he was dying of a collapsed lung. Now, in the present, he was dying of an unreasonable level of fluff clogging his brain with Killua’s name written all over it.

Still, there was a small part of him that was weirded out because this was Alluka’s brother he was talking about. It was a very small part of his brain, though. The size of this part would be the equivalent of one cavity in a mouth full of healthy teeth—crippling, but capable of being filled with rational thought to fix the damage.

If we got married, Alluka would be my sister-in-law.

That just about fixed that cavity.

He was back to smiling with his pearly white teeth.

They materialized on the map, at which point Gon realized that he had completely missed the decision making process of figuring out their spawning point. They landed at the Ruins—an archeological site fashioned to look under renovation—at which point Pika’s tuxedoed skin approached Gon and said, “If you take Killua, I’ll take Ikalgo.”

Gon blinked. “What?”

“Were you paying attention earlier?”

“No, not really,” he confessed.

“Jesus Christ,” Killua sighed. “You’re guarding my ass, Freakss.”

“I am?” Gon said.

“Yeah, so I figured we could loot the Ruins for med kits in case either of them get hit,” Pika explained. “If either of them dies, their designated guardian has to commit suicide.”

“Wow,” Gon said. “That sounds… unnecessary.”

“Ritual suicide to join me in the afterlife,” Killua said, which Gon couldn’t take seriously because of his Catwoman skin staring at him from over Pika’s broad shouldered tuxedo man.

“I have to say, the Ruins are fitting for this,” Ikalgo said as he started down the steps to the cave. “Like Tomb Raider all over again. Lara Croft, come loot my corpse.”

“Over my dead body, bitch,” Pika said. They leapt off of the ledge and chased after Ikalgo.

Gon stared at Killua.

Killua stared back.

After a long stretch of silence, Killua said, “I hope you realize that my only goal is to sabotage you.”

“Really?”

“You have no weapons and we’re out in the open.”

“Oh, shoot, you’re right,” Gon said and hurried off towards the cave. He paused when he realized Killua wasn’t going to move. “Come on, let’s go in the cave.”

“Nah, I’ll pass,” Killua said.

Gon sighed. Pika was depending on him and this was his first time even playing with Pika. If they didn’t make it to the end of this match alive, he was sure he’d never be able to look Pika in the eye again.

Not that… they ever once looked each other in the actual eye before.

Gon went and ransacked the outer rim of the archeological site. It was layered like outdoor stadium seats and stocked full of basic loot. It would do for the task of protecting Killua, though, so he equipped it all and loaded his weapons with the minimal ammunition he had. He mentally blocked out the number of bullets he could allot in each match. They were in squads, which meant that he and Killua would be facing off against no more than four players at a time. He only had twenty bullets, so he couldn’t use a torrent of ammunition on every fight they had. Besides, they were streaming with two other famous Hunters.

Just as Gon was thinking how curious it was that no one had tried to kill them yet, he saw something shift at the top of the cliff, over the cave entrance. Gon didn’t even think—the instant the spot popped up again, Gon fired once for the kill.

Killua turned to watch, but no one else appeared after Gon’s kill count ticked to one.

“Was that a gunshot?” Pika asked.

“Yeah, but it was just one guy,” Gon said. “I’m gonna check for more.”

“Yeah, just leave me here unprotected,” Killua said in a dull drone, and on stream, he was rolling his eyes so hard his head lolled on his shoulders.

Gon scowled at him as if Killua could see him and said, “I don’t know why I ever thought your attitude was endearing.”

Killua’s jaw dropped, Ikalgo gasped, and Pika scoffed, “Oh, shit, go off, sis.”

Killua clammed his mouth shut, lips pursed into a sneer. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Doesn’t mean you’ve stopped thinking I’m endearing.”

“Emphasis on ‘thought,’ then.”

“T-H-O-T,” Ikalgo said.

“I’m not fucking moving if I don’t have to,” Killua said. “If this bitch is gonna run a mile for me, I’m not walking a foot.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” Pika laughed. “I love you.”

Gon couldn’t believe that, once upon a time, he looked to a future in which Alluka was his sister-in-law. Now, he was just pissed that Alluka had to deal with this bullshit. Her tuition hung on an asshole like Killua who made a living being an aggressive, hostile internet personality. Nicer people deserved that position. Nicer people needed to be influencers. He didn’t want Killua teaching people that throwing needless tantrums was okay.

His fingers clenched into fists over his keyboard as he said, “I don’t know why you encourage this behavior.”

“‘Cause it’s funny,” Ikalgo said. “Lighten up dude. You sounded serious there for a second.”

“I am serious!” Gon cried. “If you guys are just gonna be assholes to me the entire match, I don’t want to play.” He closed his eyes, annoyed with himself. That was four swears just this week and it was only Monday. The situation didn’t warrant cursing, but dammit if he didn’t feel like swearing. He wasn’t about to fight Killua’s fire with fire, though.

“Aw, don’t ragequit,” Ikalgo whined. “He didn’t mean it.”

“I meant it,” Killua said.

Gon put a hand in his hair. It was all he could do to keep from groaning irritably. Instead, he said, “I have homework anyway that I should be working on.” He didn’t, but he wanted some excuse to leave.

“Oh come on, that’s so boring,” Killua groaned.

“Sorry I can’t act like a child,” Gon said before hitting the “Leave Party” button.

Gon was initially grateful when, come Tuesday, Alluka avoided the topic of her brother. He didn’t understand why it unnerved him, though, until Zushi joined them and stared longer than necessary at Gon before setting his tray down.

Gon rose an eyebrow at his friend. Zushi stared back, opened his mouth, and immediately shut it. Gon glanced sideways at Alluka, who took a large bite of her bagel to keep from speaking. She waited until she polished off her jelly-coated bagel, brushed her hands off on her napkin, and laced her fingers together over the edge of the table.

“I need to tell you guys something,” she said.

“This sounds serious,” Zushi huffed with a snicker. Gon elbowed him in the side.

Alluka shifted uncomfortably for a moment. Now that made Gon nervous. A crazy, unfathomable thought came to mind: That Gon had inadvertently turned Alluka against him. Shit, he thought, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, will she want to be friends with me after I dragged Killua on a livestream?

She cleared her throat, put her nose in the air, and said, “I’m officially single.”

“Oh thank God,” Gon gasped, panting.

Alluka blinked at him, and Zushi put a hand to his heart as if he’d been shot. Zushi stared at him as Gon slumped back against his seat, shaking his head. The relief was so all-encompassing that Gon momentarily lost control of his vocal cords. When he realized what he had said, a hand flew to his mouth and he gasped and said, “Oh, God! That’s terrible! I mean, you’re a free woman! More power to you, yes, amazing, that’s what I mean.”

“You’re fucking terrible at this,” Zushi said. “I can’t imagine what you’d say if she said her cat died or something.”

“I don’t own a cat, you know I’m allergic,” Alluka said.

“Then if your cat died, I’d say, ‘I’m glad your health from hereto forth will improve,’” Gon said.

Alluka squinted at him and leant forward as if examining a specimen from afar—maybe a deer, off in the distance, blending in with a field of alfalfa. “Are you feeling all right? I was concerned you might be having a mental breakdown.”

Gon blinked and said, “I’m fine. Are you fine? Are we fine?”

“Excuse me?” she said.

“It’s just—” he started, suddenly wary of the fact that Zushi was staring at him with one hand braced on his chair back and the other on the table, like at any second he’d bolt. They eyed each other skeptically before Gon slid his gaze over to Alluka, who raised an eyebrow back at him. “I thought—I mean, I insulted your brother…”

“Yeah, so? It’s all over Twitter,” she said.

“But… aren’t you mad at me?”

“No, I thought it was entertaining.”

“So we’re okay…?”

“Yes, absolutely. I would have done the same in your situation,” she said, sitting back in her chair. She let out a huff, tossed her french braid over her shoulder and said, “Well, now that we’ve cleared that up, I’d like us very much to go back to the fact that I am single and ready to mingle, as the college kids say. When’s the next party?”

“Wait—What happened with you and—” Zushi started.

Alluka put out a finger to shush him, and it was threatening enough to shut him up. Alluka stared him down with deadly precision and said, “We don’t speak her name in this household.”

“Oh my God, what did she do?” Gon breathed, horrified. He felt like he was a kid again hearing a ghost story at a bonfire. He loved bonfires, but ghosts terrified him to his very core. A shudder went through him.

Alluka shrugged and said, “I don’t know. We just haven’t been talking much and I was like, ‘You know, I’d like a little more substance,’ you know? You know how I like my substance.”

“Yes, Malibu and coke on the rocks—”

Alluka rolled her eyes. “Not that substance. I’m talking conversation. I don’t want smalltalk every damn day. We ran out of shit to talk to. If you’re dating someone, shouldn’t there always be something to talk about? Doesn’t matter what it is—and I’m not talking constant deep, metaphysical existentialism. Just… hold a conversation when there’s a conversation to be fondled.”

“I didn’t know conversations needed to be fondled,” Zushi confessed.

Alluka pointed sharply to him. He jerked as if expecting there to be a gun in her hand. “See, that’s it. I’d drop nuggets like that—things that you’re supposed to call out and comment on and she stopped picking up on my breadcrumbs. At that point I just had to admit that I was boring her, she was boring me, ipso facto, here I am.”

“Conversational breadcrumbs?” Gon hummed. “Like… asking questions?”

“That’s one of them, yes,” she said.

“But conversation isn’t for everyone,” Zushi insisted, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with silence?”

Alluka shrugged. “Have you ever thought about… living in the same room as someone. Everything you need is in the room. You’ll yearn for nothing material. But the room is divided by clear glass and you can both see each other but you can’t talk or touch and you’re not allowed to communicate. Would that silence piss you off?”

Zushi and Gon stared at her. She looked between them innocently, her hands still clasped together on the table. Zushi leant forward, hesitantly, and put a hand out to say, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Alluka gave another indifferent shrug. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“You sound like Gon after he fell out of the hammock,” Zushi said.

Alluka laughed. Gon didn’t miss the hitch in it, or how she looked to her lap before pursing her lips and saying, meeting Zushi’s eyes, “Really, it’s fine. We weren’t in glass boxes.”

“Okay, good,” Zushi sighed. “If you were, I’d be concerned about how the university conducts psychological research.”

Alluka giggled again and propped her chin on her hands. She looked at them, head tipped to the side. “But do you two ever think about that? Being in one of two glass boxes?”

“It sounds like torture,” Gon confessed.

“I think I would start to think the other test subject wasn’t real,” Zushi confessed. He scratched at his chin and wondered aloud, “I would probably… start to act less human, too, as a result. Maybe they wouldn’t think I was real, either?”

“Maybe,” Alluka hummed.

“What would you consider ‘communication’? Wouldn’t staring count?” Gon asked.

The rambled on for the sake of distracting each other from the topic at hand. It still gnawed at him, though, ever since Alluka gave him the answer he had been worrying about. It confirmed that both she and Zushi knew about the fight, knew that Gon was on strike, and new that the internet thought he was being overdramatic.

Gon clenched his teeth as Zushi left to refill his coffee mug. As Zushi walked off, Alluka sighed and said, “It’s situations like this that I wish I had a PR rep. I could call Canary for you?”

“Why would I need a PR rep?” Gon said, squinting at her.

Alluka shrugged. “I dunno. She could talk to Killua for you.”

“This isn’t a ‘situation’,” he insisted, but Alluka’s eye roll said otherwise. “It isn’t. I don’t want or need to fix anything. It’s not like I had a public appearance before this—I won’t have one after.”

“I’m just saying, Gon,” she said. She reached to the seat beside her, where her backpack sat. She took out a post-it note and a pen and wrote a phone number down. She titled it with Canary’s name before sticking it to the table next to Gon’s plate. “If you run into trouble. She’s good at fixing things.”

Gon thought about how Twitter accused him of being overdramatic. He picked up the post it note, teeth clenching all over again.

I’m not being overdramatic. I’ll show them overdramatic.

Chapter Text

Gon put Canary’s number in his phone, just for safekeeping. After that, he dragged Hunter vs Hunter to his trash and emptied the bin. He did so with the same recording equipment Killua had explained to him during their five hour sandbox session, so that when all was said and done, he uploaded the video of the Hunter vs Hunter logo disappearing from his computer straight to his old Twitter account.

Gon sat on the futon as a sickening, empty feeling hollowed out his stomach. He stared at the spot on his dock where the game used to be. The sensation echoed in the chasm that became his entire torso. Where his stomach used to be, he now felt only a vague sense of nausea.

He needed to do something.

Gon stood from the futon and ducked out from under Zushi’s loft. Zushi was sitting at his desk as Gon tugged on socks and sneakers and tapped his toes into the carpet to secure them. Gon grabbed his keys, his wallet, and left his phone behind.

“I’m gonna go see if any of the guys are playing frisbee,” he said before opening the door and disappearing behind it.

He had until Friday before he could actually participate in sports again, but it felt so far away when Gon was so bored out of his mind. He did, however, find the guys playing frisbee out in the courtyard in the middle of campus. When Gon approached, they were as loud as ever, inclusive as ever, and… just as in tune to internet subcultures as ever. One of their first comments was, “I can’t believe you disappeared to play HvH with KILLU.”

Gon grimaced as he took a seat in a rickety, plastic lawn chair. “I went through a midlife crisis,” he said.

“Ah, so that explains it,” he said.

“That, and my lung collapsed so… no frisbee for me,” he said with a smile.

That effectively changed the conversation, which he was eager to do and relieved when it worked. He showed them the scar under his armpit. It tickled when one of them grazed the seam with the pad of his finger—hovering just close enough for the minuscule hairs on Gon’s skin to react.

“That tickles, stop it,” Gon giggled, jerking away.

He put his shirt down just before one of the guys started waving the frisbee about, shouting teasingly, “Gay!”

“I was just lookin’ at it, God,” the guy said, thumping Gon on the arm. “Nice scar, though. Hope you feel better.”

Gon shivered. He was vividly aware of the scar that he had touched so many times that past week. There were photos of it all over Twitter—Gon was almost positive he had seen someone make it their profile picture on Twitter, which was… weird. He rubbed a hand over it and thought about how he had shown it on camera specifically for Killua and Ikalgo to see.

He wondered if, had he shown it to them in person, Killua would have touched his scar like that.

“Thanks,” Gon squeaked. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and sat back down in the lawn chair.

Try as he might, that single image was just the spark. Of course he had thought about shit like that—wasn’t that normal? To lie awake at night imagining the weight of someone lying next to him. He’d spread his hands out across the sheets and fold the wrinkles of fabric between his fingers pretending it was someone else’s hands. He never had a face for them, though, until his first night away from HvsH and he caught himself staring at the unopened snap symbol next to Killua’s username.

He was back to feeling guilty, though. He didn’t want to complicate things, let alone involve himself with Alluka’s brother. He was still furious, though, that Killua’s attitude was endorsed by thousands of strangers every damn day.

Zushi was right, Gon thought the next morning when the bags under his eyes alluded to just how much time he spent lying awake last night. Gon clasped his hands to the edge of the sink and sighed. Killua’s too aggressive for my tastes anyway.

He grabbed his tooth brush off the ledge and layered a dollop of toothpaste on it. He stuck it in his mouth and scrubbed aggressively until his gums hurt. He spat the foam out and rinsed his mouth off. A spot of pink spat out with it and he tasted iron on the tip of his tongue where he rubbed it against his sore gums.

He pushed his tongue against it and watched in the mirror as red seeped between his teeth—between two of his bottom teeth. The blood oozed down into the crevice between his gums and bottom lip.

An image came to mind in startling clarity of Killua, all pale skin, pale hair, pale eyes, slipping between him and the sink. He could feel the ghost of Killua’s hand grazing his side, putting pressure just under his arm where he knew the scar was. Gon held his breath at the thought of Killua’s tongue chasing the blood between his teeth.

A shudder escaped Gon in the form of a sigh that would be more accurately described as a pant. He cleared his throat and scooped water into his mouth. He gargled it and spat it out. That was weird, he thought and hoped he wasn’t losing his mind.

After finishing homework, he spent that entire evening scrolling through Killua’s Instagram. He couldn’t stop himself. He bellyflopped onto his loft, kicked his feet up and crossed them at the ankles like some schoolgirl flipping through a gossip magazine. Killua’s Instagram was curated in two very particular ways: Fashion shoots with sponsor deals and custom deep-fried memes. Killua’s photoshoots were professional and were bound to be a part of some modeling portfolio. Aside from athletic wear and gaming wear, there was a very niche section of his feed that was scattered about like the conversational breadcrumb trails Alluka alluded to.

And that niche—Gon’s doom—was Alphalete underwear.

Gon found himself staring at a photo of Killua in his gamer chair illuminated in vibrant blues from his gaming setup, a bare leg strewn over one armrest, wearing fitted briefs with a thick black waistband with the Alphalete logo branded on it. Gon bit his thumbnail.

“Are you…” Zushi’s voice sounded near the doorway. Gon turned to look and found Zushi staring at him and his phone. “Are you looking at photos of Killua modeling underwear?”

“No. I mean, yes,” Gon said.

“You’re hopeless, I hope you realize this,” Zushi said.

Gon sighed, turning back to the photo. “It’s better to hear it now, I guess,” he said. He sifted through Killua’s feed for another underwear modeling session. The next one was of boxer briefs and tube socks on the edge of his wooden desk the size of Canada. Considering the number of monitors and consoles the desk supported, it needed to be dense.

Dense enough to carry Killua’s weight, too, Gon supposed.

He wondered how much those monitors cost.

Gon put his phone down and covered his face with his hands. It was different from all those office affair visuals he had of men shoving the desk contents off. Killua would absolutely slaughter him if he did that to all five of his monitors. If he was more dramatic, Gon would have done so on purpose just to act like one of those cats that knocks things onto the floor before rage quitting the match. He’d probably never see the light of day again.

Gon shivered. Maybe I do like play-fighting with Killua, he thought, only to scowl. But now we’re real-fighting and I don’t like it one bit.

KILLU uploaded a video!

NEWBIE MISSING. If Found Return To KILLU.

00 :37 Killy Willy 😜 is typing…

00 :37 KILLUA: You’re being ridiculous

00 :38 KILLUA: You do realize that I entertain people for a living, right?

10 :02 KILLUA: Alluka told me you’re still upset with me

10 :02 KILLUA: For fuck’s sake Gon

10 :03 KILLUA: It was just a stupid challenge

12 :15 KILLUA: You’re so fucking extra

12 :15 KILLUA: Did you teach yourself how to screen capture just to post that damn video

12 :20 KILLUA: Fuck you too, Freakss

Finals week was coming up fast. He had less than five days to prepare for his exams and, in the end, it was probably a good thing that Gon deleted HvsH. Still, all that time spent away from HvsH was just spent studying… and thinking about Killua.

His imagination was escalating to an alarming degree. He couldn’t sit through an entire lecture without zoning out about some compromising position with Killua for two-thirds of it. On top of that, he wanted to play hide-and-kill with Killua again. He wanted to string Killua along with flare trails until they were both cornered and Killua thought he had the upper hand. Gon would rip that rug straight out from under him, though, at the last second—usually by dumb luck but always, always by his killer aim.

Gon clicked the end of his pen as he sat in the clinic waiting room. He really should have been thinking about his biology exam on Monday, but it was Friday and he was so damn close to being cleared. By this time next week, he’d most definitely be back in the gym.

“Gon?” a nurse called.

Gon leapt to his feet. He completely forgot that he had a notebook sitting open on his lap. It went flying to the ground and he scrambled to pick it up along with his backpack before skedaddling across the waiting room. “Yes, that’s me—sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” the woman said, smiling. “Right this way.”

Gon bounded after her down the hall. They strode side-by-side and, at the room, the woman asked that he change before leaving him alone in the room with a folded-up hospital gown. He snapped his notebook shut and stuffed it into his backpack, letting out a shaky breath as he shed his clothes. This was it. All the doctor needed to do was say that he was perfectly okay and life would go back to normal.

He shimmied into the nightgown and tied it shut. Soon, he was being weighed, had his temperature, blood pressure, and heart rate taken, and was left sitting on the edge of the cushioned seat until the doctor came in.

When all was said and done, the doctor said, “How has it been after getting the stitches taken out?”

“Fine. A bit sore for a few days, but nothing I couldn’t manage,” Gon said. He lifted his arm and his skin felt less taunt than it was earlier on in the week. Getting the stitches taken out was nothing if not a relief. The puckered skin had long since passed by the time he went to the clinic for his final checkup.

“Well, in that case, you should continue with the breathing exercises and you return to your usual routine little-by-little. Avoid trips on planes for at least one more week—the air pressure could cause another lung collapse.”

“Will I be able to work out?” he asked, eagerly.

“Delve back into cardio workouts slowly, but otherwise start with strength training. If you experience any pain in your shoulders again, come back straight away.”

Gon nodded quickly. “Yes, okay, sounds good.”

“Okay, and please avoid heavy-lifting for at least another few days. Gradually get back into it.”

Gon nodded. He wouldn’t need to start heavy-lifting until the second half of finals week—what with moving out of the dorms and into summer housing. He’d be fine by then. “Then do you have any questions or—”

“Nope, that’s it,” Gon said, jumping to his feet. He nearly ran to the door before skidding to a halt, turning back and saying, “Thank you, I owe you my life,” before booking it out of the door. He cruised out of the hotel speed walking like a champ and, at the sidewalk, he shimmied a little and kicked his heels up into a leprechaun jump.

He spun around a lamppost feeling like Mary Poppins if Mary Poppins ever recovered from a pneumothorax. Gon was liberated. He was unchained, free, just a leaf in the wind. He’d make that wind his bitch so he could go anywhere.

His first task was to go to the gym, and go to the gym he did. He heeded the doctor’s orders, though, and made it strictly a leg-day workout. After spending two weeks bumming about, his muscles were tight and he felt, once again, like this was what he had been waiting for. All that time playing video games? Ridiculous. It was all just filler before this moment when he could feel the lactic acid surrounding his muscles and striking them into a satisfying burn that he yearned for.

He was out of practice, once again, so his workout didn’t last more than thirty minutes. He was in the locker room by noon, stomach growling with hunger, but overall, satisfied. A sheen of sweat was on his skin and he could see it glistening under the florescent lights in the locker room. He heard a door slam shut behind him. He glanced over before turning back. His chest was burning—the good kind of burn, not the stabbed-in-the-back kind of burn. He rubbed a hand over his pecs through his cutoff shirt and tipped his head to the side. His hair was a mess, strands of it slick with sweat against his forehead. He ran his fingers through it as he looked down at his phone.

I look good, he thought.

Another thought followed after it, eating him alive. I want Killua to see me looking this good.

He didn’t want to Snap Killua, so instead, he took a picture of himself in the mirror, the hem of his shirt pulled up to his mouth so that he could show off the scar. His legs felt like they were made of rubber after the workout, but damn, they looked like a snacc and a half.

He typed out a caption. “Back at the gym. Doctor’s orders,” and he accompanied it with with a smiley face before posting it to his story.

Almost immediately he had a response from Alluka along the lines of, “Does this mean we can go dancing?!”

Gon walked to his locker with a laugh, rubbing the sweat off of his face with his shirt before flinging it aside and grabbing his shower supplies. He loved dancing, and it felt like a drunken night was also exactly what the doctor ordered.

He gave a swift confirmation—they’d figure out something after finals—and left to shower. When he came back squeaky clean, he packed his shit away, tossed his backpack straps onto his shoulders, and was gone with the promise of returning tomorrow. He left the gym with a skip in his step and bounded down the stairs to the sidewalk. Just as he was enroute back to the dorm, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled his phone out with a frown and stared at the name on the screen. He bit his lip and looked around, as if anyone would know what the caller meant to him. He wasn’t quite sure, either, considering Alluka had only just given him Canary’s number. He shouldn’t have been surprised.

Alluka probably gave Canary my number, too, he realized. He felt stupid for not considering it earlier. Alluka knew him too well—she knew that he would never call Canary without serious prompting.

He hesitated to answer the call until it passed and her name faded off of his screen. He put a hand to his head and realized then that he did want to chat. He didn’t know what they’d talk about, but clearly, Canary had a plan.

He dialed her up again and she answered on the second ring.

“Gon, lovely to hear from you. I’m Canary, a friend of Alluka’s,” a woman’s voice sounded in a thick, English accent. Gon smiled at the sound. He couldn’t help it. He loved British accents, specifically Queen’s English. It made her sound aristocratic. “Thanks for answering my call.”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t catch it on the first try,” he said, and had to stop himself from mimicking her accent. He covered his mouth with his fingers to stop from giggling.

He bit his lip before asking, “What made you call in the first place?”

“Well, I take it Alluka’s told you something of me. I work for KILLU—I’m a part of his management team here at the eSport Collective.”

Gon didn’t think to consider that he was in trouble until she took on that intimidating, powerful voice. Like she was listing off her credentials in preparation to smack him upside the head with them. He paused at the edge of the sidewalk so some students behind him could pass by. He leant on the edge of a concrete hedge topped with an iron wrought railing, rubbing a hand against his head as he sighed.

“Look, if this is about—”

“I’m not angry with you,” she said, voice hitched in surprise, “far from it, actually. I’m not here to scout you, either, if you’re concerned about that. I’m under the impression that the last thing you would want is to make a living off of eSports. You would do quite well in this world, Gon. It’s good to keep your options open.”

“You’re right, yeah. I don’t—I’m not interested in making a living off of it,” he confessed, and he felt guilty saying so. He imagined there were lots of individuals out there who wanted to make a living off of it and couldn’t because they didn’t have the spontaneous connections Gon did.

“I’d like to make a proposal,” she said, “for the sake of your schooling. Have you heard of MetaCon?”

Gon had only heard it in passing, from questions Killua answered during stream. He could still remember what Killua had said: “I’ll be there all weekend. I have my Meta schedule in one of the panels.”

“Is it, like… a gaming convention?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. It’s a tournament-based convention and takes place in San Francisco next weekend. We’d love to have you there—tickets sold out last fall, but the eSport Collective reserves extras for this purpose. You have exams all next week, yes? I could get you a plane to San Francisco late next Friday. You’d be coming with Alluka, if that’s all right. The two of you will have your own hotel rooms and truthfully, even if you participate in only one tournament, you could spend the entire weekend meandering around San Fran. The only expectation is that you participate in one tournament.”

Gon felt impossibly dizzy at the prospect of spending a weekend in San Francisco. He’d been there before, once, and loved it. He and Zushi had spent a long weekend there after freshmen year, but they couldn’t afford much more than that. Besides, he tended to spend his summers back at the farm.

“What does… What does this have to do with university?” he said, voice hoarse.

“The HvH tournament you will be participating in has a grand prize of $300,000.”

“O-Oh,” Gon stammered. “How does… it work?”

“You’ll be dropped onto a private server map. You’d play it like a regular solos battle royale and whoever wins the battle royale, wins the 300k.”

Gon said nothing. It was too much money for his brain to compute. He’d end up spending it all on protein shakes, he was sure of it. Aunt Mito-san could use it, too—it wouldn’t just be for him. He could get so many dogs with that 300k.

He really couldn’t speak, and so Canary spoke for him. “You think about it. Let me know by the end of this weekend, if you can. You have my number, and you can ask Alluka about MetaCon. She’s attended every year since KILLU’s been on the rosters.”

The color flooded from Gon’s face. “What do you mean?”

“KILLU will be in the HvH tournament with you.”

KILLU will be in the HvH tournament with you.

That statement followed Gon on the remainder of his walk, even after he and Canary said farewell and hung up. It would haunt him to his grave or, at the very least, the dining hall table where he found Zushi hanging out by their usual window seat.

Gon felt like a zombie as he stocked up on a plate full of food, grabbed a glass of orange juice, and claimed the spot across from Zushi. They stared at one another for a long time before Gon at last took his seat and set his plate down.

“Canary called me,” Gon said.

“Oh?” Zushi said, like he wasn’t at all surprised.

Gon glowered at him and said, “Alluka told you.”

Zushi rolled his eyes and said, “Dude, Alluka’s been texting me nonstop. It’s kind of weird.”

“Really?” Gon startled, eyes wide.

Zushi closed a fist over his mouth for a moment, hesitated, and leant forward to hiss, “You don’t think…?”

Gon waved his hands dismissively. “No, absolutely not.”

“Okay, good,” Zushi breathed, relieved. He put a hand on his chest and said, “I’m just, you know. Worried. I mean, after next week we probably won’t be seeing much of each other anymore. I mean, Alluka and us.” He gestured to the both of them and Gon tipped his head to the side, unsure. “Like, if you’re gonna put the moves on someone, it’s a safe bet to do so before cutting off all communication if shit goes sideways.”

“That’s an interesting tactic,” Gon confessed. “Why would you want to cut off all communication?”

“Because it’d be awkward.”

“So?”

“Not everyone can be immune to awkwardness like you,” Zushi whined.

“What will be awkward?” Alluka’s voice sounded off to the side.

Zushi cursed and Gon screamed. Gon slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and honed in on Alluka. Alluka tipped her head to the side innocently before claiming the spot beside Gon and jumping onto the tall stool.

“We were—just talking about—” Zushi started, gesturing to Gon.

Gon stared at him. Did Zushi really expect me to tell the truth? he thought, only to realize that this was a perfect chance to not fuck up and come up with a lie of some kind. One that was plausible… one that he wanted to bring up anyway…

“About how awkward MetaCon will be if I accept Canary’s offer,” he said.

Zushi’s hand balled into a fist and he slammed it on the table. Alluka jumped. “Are you fucking serious?” Zushi screamed. He was on his feet before Gon could tell him to calm down. He threw his head back and yelled like a banshee, saying, “TAKE ME WITH YOU!”

“I-I didn’t know you were into MetaCon!” Gon shrieked in a panic.

Zushi gasped and collapsed on the table, begging, “Please tell me you didn’t turn her down. Please, please, please—”

“I just—I have to give her a response by Sunday!” Gon cried, eyes wide. He’d never seen Zushi in such a fit before.

Zushi relaxed into his seat for a moment before gasping again. This time, both Gon and Alluka jumped. “Wait—Why does Canary want you to go?”

“I-I’d be in a Hunter versus Hunter tournament,” Gon confessed with a wince. “I’d be going there with Alluka…”

“Wait, you’re going?” Zushi gasped, a hand out on the table in front of Alluka.

Alluka’s eyes were the size of saucers. “I go every year,” she said.

Zushi put his hands to his cheeks and moaned, “I don’t know why I never put that together after finding out KILLU’s your brother. Okay, that makes sense now.”

Gon mimicked Zushi’s pose, hands on his cheeks, lips pouted, and said in a teasing voice, “Aw, would you wanna come with me if Canary let you?”

“YES,” Zushi screamed.

Gon was suddenly giddy. Zushi’s excitement made him excited—he didn’t expect Zushi to be so onboard with it. Gon straightened with a nod and said, “Okay, I’ll ask.”

Zushi threw his fists in the air and announced, “We’re going to MetaCon, baby!” and threw his hands out to Gon, who met them with a loud high-five over the table. Beside him, Alluka put a hand to her forehead, pushed her bangs back, and murmured, “Aye, yai, yai.”

Chapter Text

Gon worried about the doctor’s orders—no plane rides for another week—but another week had already passed so he gave Canary the OK to book him and Zushi seats on the plane.

“Are you two fine sharing a hotel room?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Zushi said.

“Romantic getaway,” Gon teased.

“Okay,” Canary said, and that was that. Their trip for that summer was set in stone.

However, it complicated things.

Moving out of the dorms was always an ordeal because it generally happened immediately after finals week. That summer he and Zushi had a schedule that was also set in stone: They’d be moving into one of the university’s apartment complexes. The move-in period overlapped with finals, so the entire week was spent sucked into studying, writing essays, and packing his clothes away into boxes.

Transporting his shit, however… that was another story.

Thursday evening, Aunt Mito-san texted her ETA and, less than two hours later, she was waiting out front with her fiery-red truck. She stepped out onto the sidewalk as Gon ran across the lobby and out through the front door. He flung himself down the steps as Aunt Mito-san stilled in a panic, saying, “No running! Be careful—”

Gon giggled, flinging his arms around her torso. She was taller than him by just a smidge, and he loved being able to put his cheek on her shoulder where the fabric of her thick, flannel shirt softened under his skin. She smelled like straw—she smelled like home. It would be the first summer he didn’t spend at the farm, and he was already missing it.

Aunt Mito-san rubbed his back and kissed his head of black hair. The week had been hectic, too hectic to maintain hygiene, so he was one day late on his shower routine. “I was so worried about you,” she breathed against his hair, giving him a shake before stepping back. She held him by the shoulders and looked him up and down. He braced his hands at his sides, all but vibrating with excitement.

She ran a hand through his hair with a soft smile on her lips. “I’m glad you’re doing better. I came so close to booking a hotel here and taking the drive down.”

Gon shook his head and said, “Everything went fine. I wouldn’t’ve wanted you to leave the farm for so long.”

“As much as I want to be convinced that you’re indestructible, I still worry,” she sighed. “Alright, now let’s get your boxes loaded up.”

Zushi was in the dorm when Gon brought Aunt Mito-san up and together, the three of them cleared out the entire dorm room. The dorm hall was chaos, though, and with the elevator constantly in use, they wound up taking the stairs more often than not. Gon didn’t mind—he started taking the stairs again just the other day, and he was grateful for the exercise since all of his focus that week had been on school work.

They drove to the university apartment complex—Gon in shotgun and Zushi in the backseat. They each had bags on their laps and boxes at their feet. Aunt Mito-san let Zushi play DJ since Gon was musically inept and Aunt Mito-san listened almost exclusively to country. It was a short drive, so they listened to two entire songs before they were pulling up into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

After getting their keys from the front desk, Gon and Zushi returned to the car where his aunt was sorting through their boxes. She was holding up the 4k monitor box with a quizzical look, at which point Zushi squeaked in terror, just as paranoid as Gon about the box falling. Thankfully, though, his aunt had biceps of steel and a grip of iron, so the monitor was in safe hands—albeit, ignorant hands.

“I didn’t realize you got into this sort of thing,” Aunt Mito commented to Gon.

“A brief lapse in judgement,” Gon replied. He pointed to the 4k monitor and said, “That’s Zushi’s, anyway. I got his old monitors and they work just fine.”

“Brief? Well, that was a swift phase,” she commented.

As they unloaded the truck and put the boxes on a moving cart, Gon thought to himself, If only she knew about San Francisco.

Their new space was simple, if not small. They each had their own rooms that connected to the combined living space and kitchen, but the rooms themselves were just barely wide enough to fit a desk near the window and a twin-sized bed next to the bathroom doors. Gon didn’t mind the confined quarters—he was just excited to have an apartment at long last. The cost of the dorms was only worth it if Gon kept his grades up and, going into junior year, he wasn’t sure if that was possible anymore. He had enough scholarships to cut the cost of credits, but it was by no means anything to gawk at.

Aunt Mito came to Los Angeles equipped with all of the kitchen supplies they lacked. While Gon and Zushi were busy unpacking their clothes into the closets, his aunt unpacked plates and bowls into the cabinets.

Gon folded up the empty boxes and stacked them out in the living room. The space was quiet, quaint, and empty. They’d need to find something to cover the walls. With the tall ceiling, the white walls felt haunting, like that of a sterile doctor’s office, and Gon had had enough of doctors offices for one year.

“Well, that does it then,” Aunt Mito said, hands on her hips. “Your kitchen is all stocked up—now all you need is food.”

“Zushi and I can take care of that later,” Gon said. Besides, he didn’t want any of it to go bad while they were in San Francisco.

“No, I insist,” she said.

“Maybe just… the essentials?” Zushi suggested, peeking out of his doorway. Gon stared at him and Zushi shrugged. “I mean, she’s got a car, dude. You really wanna carry it all back here?”

“I need the exercise,” Gon said.

“No you don’t,” his aunt said. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

“Thanks, but we can still manage it on our own,” he said, waving his hands with a dismissive smile.

Aunt Mito rounded the island counter to reach for Gon’s shoulder. Gon let her hold him, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside as she said, “If you’re sure. I’ll take you two out to brunch tomorrow, all right? And if you change your minds we can always go after.”

Gon nodded. Their flight wasn’t until five, anyway, and he could already feel his mouth watering at the idea of pancakes for lunch. He loved pancakes.

Gon spent that night with Aunt Mito at a hotel down the street. It was moving season for university students, so the hotel was packed with families visiting from out of state—the pool was no different. He didn’t mind the company of strangers, though, so he spent a long while sitting on the edge of the pool with Aunt Mito, talking to a woman who sat on the ledge with her toes dipped in the water. Gon was nervous to swim despite no longer having his stitches in, so he kept to the shallow end and played volleyball with some of the kids.

The heat from the indoor pool made him sleepy. The air was stuffy with moisture, dense with chlorine, and made him feel all squeaky clean by the time he and Aunt Mito padded up to their room. His toes and fingers were pruny and the dry, summer air effectively shed the water from him by the time they stood outside of their room looking for their keycards.

Gon produced his from his towel and swiped it on the door. He propped open the door so that, when they dropped their things off, they could sit out on the plastic chairs by the railing outside of their room to watch the sun set.

“You like it here in SoCal?” Aunt Mito asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, I don’t miss the cold,” he confessed with a small smile.

She reached over and scrubbed at his damp hair. He closed his eyes, still smiling, and opened them as she said, “Good. I’m glad you like it here, Gon.”

20:34 ZushiRoll is typing…

20:35 ZUSHI: It’s supposed to be chilly in SanFran this weekend

20:35 GON: Ugh are you serious

20:36 ZUSHI: Deadly serious

20:36 ZUSHI: Murder serious

20:37 Nanika is typing…

20:37 ALLUKA: Yay I get to wear my cute maxi skirts :D

20:38 ALLUKA: Don’t forget to pack something sexy :D

20:38 ZUSHI: Why

20:38 ALLUKA: I took matters into my own hands

20:39 ALLUKA: There’s a kickoff party Friday night for MetaCon VIP guests

20:39 ZUSHI: We have VIP tickets?

20:39 ALLUKA: 😇

20:39 ZUSHI: God I love you

20:39 ZUSHI: Not like

20:40 ZUSHI: You know what I mean

20:40 ALLUKA: I know what you mean 😚

20:40 GON: 🤭

20:40 ZUSHI: NOT LIKE THAT

20:41 ALLUKA: 🥳

20:41 ALLUKA: It’s fine I’m gonna pick up cute gamer babes at Meta this weekend it’s gonna be AMAZING

20:41 ALLUKA: Be my wingman?

20:42 ZUSHI: YES ABSOLUTELY

20:42 GON: What about me? I wanna wingman 🥺

20:42 ALLUKA: I’m under the impression you won’t be present for most of Meta

20:42 GON: Is that a threat??

20:43 ALLUKA: It’s a fact, dumbass

20:43 ALLUKA: You’re literally IN the events

20:43 ALLUKA: So Zushi’s gonna be my plus 1 to the panels 😋

20:44 ZUSHI: 💁🏽♂️

Gon had never once been on a plane before. It was only for an hour, but he had never felt such all-encompassing anxiety and excitement in one day. He was thrilled and anxious, and he forced himself to stay still. The thought of missing the flight paralyzed him enough to keep him in one spot until their boarding numbers were called.

Alluka boarded first. She hopped up from her seat, skirt swishing as she pulled up the handle on her rolling carryon. She turned to them with a smile and waved, saying, “See you guys in San Fran!”

Zushi waved back. Gon was too busy clutching at the hem of his shorts, barely restraining the shivers that rolled up his spine. He could see the plane through the window from where they sat against the wall, facing everyone and everything. There were so many people gathering at the desk outside of the terminal archway. The woman next to him was still sleeping.

Zushi judged him in the arm and said, “Dude, you’re gonna be fine.”

“I know. I’m just excited. I can’t stop shaking,” he confessed with a weak smile.

Zushi rubbed his shoulder and gave him a pat. Gon ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh before pushing a hand to his chest. He felt like his heart was about to burst between his ribs and flop on the ground in a bloody puddle. He wasn’t sure what he’d prefer would happen to him. Maybe their plane would crash and he’d never have to face off against Killua. But maybe everything would go perfectly well and he would get to face off against Killua.

He was so conflicted by it that he managed to distract himself up until takeoff. He had a window seat, as per Zushi’s recommendation, and so together they looked out across the wing of the plane as the wheels spun underneath them, rumbling the floor of the cabin and shaking the luggage over their heads. Gon gripped the armrests but intercepted Zushi’s hand. Zushi laughed and said, “Romantic,” as Gon then clutched at his best friend’s arm through the ascent into the clouds.

Pressure built in his head, stuffing it to the brink before at last the pressure popped. He rubbed a hand over his ear, slowly relinquishing his death grip on Zushi’s arm. Zushi pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to Gon—a pack of gum.

“It’ll help relieve the pressure in your ears,” Zushi said.

Gon took a strip out and thanked him. He unwrapped it, put the stick of gum in his mouth, and wrapped the wrapper back up so that it looked like a stick of gum again. He passed it back to Zushi, who put it back in the gum case and said, “Future me is gonna be pissed when I take this out and realize there’s nothing in here.”

“That was the plan all along,” Gon said.

Gon watched the clouds as the sun set and cast and inky blue across the sky. The cabin lights cut out all except for the LED strip under the seats. His heart swelled as he saw the stars peppered across the sky becoming clearer and clearer with each minute. The clouds were wispy beneath the belly of the plane and they merged with the horizon like the ocean and the sky.

When they dipped beneath the clouds, grey flooded the window like smoke. He ran his finger along the chilly windowpane as the pressure increased once again and Gon took another strip of gum from Zushi now that his other piece tasted like concrete.

The clouds thinned and dissolved like cotton candy on his tongue. He gasped as the city lights came into view, sprinkled across the hilly landscape. They blinked back at him and shimmered like the moonlight on the water as they coasted over the ocean and circled back around to the San Francisco airport. The landing strip stretched out in concrete near the oceanside on the rocky shore, and Gon once again took to holding Zushi by the arm as the plane touched down with a jolt that made Gon’s soul momentarily escape his body.

Gon’s head buzzed long after landing. He could feel the pressure from the plane cabin in his ear like an earplug stuck. He tapped his hand against the side of his head to clear it out as the cabin lights came on and the stewardess told them all to have a wonderful night over the speakers.

When they at last emerged from the terminal, woozy but altogether still there, they found Alluka waiting for them, tapping away at her phone. She looked up with a bright smile and said, “Canary’s out by baggage claim waiting for us. How was your first plane ride, Gon?”

“Really good,” he confessed. He felt dizzy from all of the stars. He wanted to look at them again and let the world spin out from under him. “I can check that off of my bucket list.”

“Your bucket list sounds… depressing,” Zushi commented. Alluka hit him in the arm for it and Gon couldn’t help but giggle at their little quarrel.

In the end, Alluka took the lead since she was the most familiar with the San Francisco airport. They were halfway down the escalator when Alluka screamed and started running down the stairs, dragging her carryon behind her, backpack bouncing on her shoulders. Gon and Zushi lurched to follow after her, chasing Alluka down the moving stairs and onto the tiled floor of the baggage claim. They wove between strangers milling about waiting for their luggage before at last breaking through towards the doors where Alluka abandoned her bag and flung herself into the arms of an unfamiliar black woman with perfectly styled, braided buns on either side of her head. She looked like Princess Leia if Princess Leia was black, but maybe it was just the hair. Gon really didn’t know.

“Canary!” Alluka shrieked, giggling as she pulled away and Canary gave her a pat on the head.

“How are you?” Canary asked.

“I’m fine—Canary, this is Zushi, and that’s Gon. You’ve probably already seen Gon’s face, though.” Alluka gestured to the two of them as they were catching up. Gon felt a little out of breath for no good reason, but he caught it fast enough so that when Canary at last moved on from Zushi to shake Gon’s hand, he looked somewhat normal.

Canary’s smile was as gentle as her voice as she said, “Lovely to finally meet you, Gon. I’m thrilled that you accepted the invitation—I’m sure you will have so much fun this weekend.”

“Thanks for inviting me—and letting me drag Zushi along,” Gon said, nudging his friend in the side. He smiled cheekily as Zushi rolled his eyes.

“So what’s the consensus?” Alluka asked, head tipped to the side. Canary turned to her as Alluka smiled and said, “After we drop our things off, could you drive us to the VIP party?”

Canary’s smile faded and, likewise, Alluka’s did as well. Gon watched as Alluka prepared to whine like she did when he and Zushi refused to do something with her. Canary beat her to the punch, though, saying, “I can’t drive you to the party. Killua doesn’t want you getting involved with Meta drama—you know how those parties are.”

Alluka groaned in annoyance—loudly and with enough vigor to draw stares from nearby. Gon smiled apologetically to Canary and said, “That’s okay! We don’t have to go—”

“But I want to go,” Alluka moaned, fake-sobbing. “My favorite female streamer’s gonna be there, I have to go—”

“You’ll get to meet her tomorrow,” Canary insisted.

Alluka rolled her eyes. “Yeah, with every other fan. It’s not intimate.”

“Are you seriously planning on picking up MochiCakes at the VIP party?” Zushi said.

Alluka yanked at her two braids and whined, “Yes, I was. This is her first appearance at MetaCon—I won’t have another shot like this in ages. She’ll get rich and famous and never look at me again.”

“MochiCakes?” Gon said. He loved mochi ice cream, but clearly, they weren’t talking about ice cream.

Alluka and Zushi were arguing about the logistics of even hitting on MochiCakes while Canary sighed and explained, “MochiCakes is a World of Warcraft streamer. She goes by Mochi since her real name is Machi.”

“Ah, clever pun,” Gon hummed, a tad bit jealous. The only puns he could think of for his name involved “gone” and “gonorrhea,” both of which were unfortunate in their own ways. “If we… can’t drink at the VIP party, couldn’t we just go to hang out?”

Canary shook her head. “Killua doesn’t want Alluka going.”

Gon ignored the mention of Killua. “Is there some place else we could go?”

Canary tapped a finger to her chin. “I… suppose I could drop the three of you off at the AssassiNation house.”

Zushi immediately abandoned his argument. He turned to Gon and Canary with wide, psychotic eyes. Gon let out a small squeak as Zushi declared, “We have to go.”

“Bor-ring,” Alluka moaned.

“It’ll be fun!” Gon insisted. Alluka didn’t look the least bit convinced, so he put a hand to his chest and said, “I’ll make it fun. Trust me.”

She crossed her arms and sighed. She rolled her head back on her shoulders before saying, “Okay, fine. I trust you. Let’s just do it.”

Canary walked them out to the car. Gon hurried ahead to walk alongside her so he could ask, “So when is the tournament?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” she said, voice liquid smooth. It sent shivers up his spine. He’d never get over British accents. To top it off, she was decked out in a padded blazer that did wonders to her figure. Her dress pants were wide-legged and flowed around her high heels like water. “I’ll be picking you up in the morning—I figured you might want to get some practice in, so I’ve reserved one of the on-site setups. Have you been practicing?”

Gon shook his head. “I deleted it from my computer on Monday.”

Canary laughed as she slowed in front of a black vehicle. She turned around to find Gon staring at her, wide-eyed. She cleared her throat. “Oh, you’re serious. I figured you must have re-downloaded it after we discussed the tournament.”

He shook his head. She looked uncomfortable. “Should I have?”

She glanced at a group of people passing them on the sidewalk, and then to a car that flew by. She flatted a hand over the buttons on her shirt and sighed, “I suppose it doesn’t matter. You were a natural talent from the start, but I still worry. Everyone in the tournament has either been playing since season one of HvH, or they picked it up two seasons ago when it became a smashing hit. No offense, Gon, but you are a bit behind.”

Gon shuddered and said, “Then—Then why did you ask me to be in the tournament?”

“Oh, hun,” Alluka sighed.

Canary cleared her throat. “Because it’ll be a surprise for AssassiNation fans. No one knows you’re coming, least of all KILLU. We figured it would be good publicity to have Twitch’s golden boy make an appearance after vanishing all of this week.”

Gon felt his head spinning on his shoulders. He thought he might choke on his gum. His mind became an echo chamber that resonated one phrase and one phrase only: “She’s using me for the KILLU image.” He didn’t want to be used to improve the KILLU’s image. He wanted Killua to know just how horribly he acted on camera, but if he went along with this?

They’re trying to stage a reunion, aren’t they? he thought, mind reeling. He could feel the gears churning in his head, and the friction only added to the pressure in his ears from landing. He thought he might be sick.

Gon said nothing. He shut his mouth and simply watched as Canary opened the passenger door for Alluka. Alluka glanced at Gon as she slid in, her carryon between her legs and her backpack on her lap. Zushi stood at the back door, a hand on the handle as Canary closed the passenger door and turned to Gon.

“I really do think that you’re a brilliant Hunter, Gon,” Canary said. “I’d hate to see you give up on it forever just because you were put off by KILLU’s attitude.”

Gon’s eye twitched. “Why do you call him by his gamertag?”

“Because KILLU is different from Killua,” she said. “He’s aggressive in all instances, sure, but I wouldn’t have taken him on had he not shown some semblance of morality. He’s blunt, but he isn’t crude like a lot of aggressive male streamers. You have to understand that Killua is… he’s self-aware. He’s not as oblivious about his personality as you might think.”

“It’s easier to hate self-aware assholes,” Gon said.

To his surprise, Canary smiled. She took a step back to step off of the curb, but before heading to the driver’s side, she turned back to him and said, “You don’t hate him. Not really.”

Gon swallowed hard as Canary smiled. As she rounded the hood of the car, Gon thought, I don’t like that she’s right about that.

He reluctantly got in the car. Zushi scooted over and when Gon at last shut the door, he did so with enough force to shake the vehicle. Zushi put a hand to Gon’s arm as if to say, “Don’t go Hulk on me, bro,” so Gon patted his hand as if to say, “I have an ounce of self-control, which I am using presently.”

The hotel was near the convention center, which was convenient for the following morning. Before then, however, Canary parked in the parking garage and warned them ahead of time that the hotel was popular for MetaCon guests. She already took care of checking them into their rooms, so she handed them each a keycard and walked them up to the nearest elevator.

The elevator was made of glass and, as they skyrocketed towards the clouds, they emerged from the underground garage to a city full of life. The streetlights were all bright, neon, and colorful. They reflected off of the glass and warped around the metal frame as they shot skyward. Gon felt the pressure weighing on his shoulders and pushing down to his feet where he could feel his sneakers pushed into the tiles.

When the elevator came to a gradual stop, Canary smiled at them and took the lead. Gon gripped his backpack straps as he followed after Alluka down the hall and to the first room.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the three of you a shared wall. You’ll have to do with being across the hall from one another,” Canary said. She took Alluka’s spare keycard and swiped it on the door. She pushed it open and held it for Alluka. She gestured across the corridor to room 712, and Zushi did the honors of unlocking the door.

They were on the top floor of the hotel. From their vantage point at the threshold, Gon’s breath was already gone, sayonara sweet, sweet air. He clutched a hand to his chest as Zushi breathed, “Holy Mother Theresa…”

Gon never once stayed the night in a luxury suite before, but this had to be it. The open foyer stretched out to a wide living space where the king size bed sat in full view of the ocean. They had a corner room, which gave them two entire walls of wide, open windows and deep, navy curtains. Gon’s backpack slumped off of his shoulders as he slowed at the sight of the bathroom. There was a bath tub raised up on a pedestal of sorts, equipped with jet streams and a ceiling shower head.

Gon turned back around to look at Zushi. He could barely hold his backpack by the strap anymore—he was boneless, he was floating, he was gone, sayonara sweet, sweet reality.

“Dude, our honeymoon is gonna be lit this weekend,” Zushi said as he tossed his backpack onto the bed and put his hands on his hips.

“Don’t tempt me,” Gon laughed. He face-planted onto the king mattress and sighed into the freshly cleaned comforter. “Is this actually heaven?” he said, voice muffled.

“If it isn’t, I’ll be disappointed in Real Heaven,” Zushi said. They laid side-by-side on the bed until Alluka was done in her room and came to see if they were ready to go.

Alluka knocked on the wall next to the bathroom. Gon tipped his head up to look at her, and she stared back. She checked her watch and said, “It’s nine now. When do you guys want to get back?”

“I don’t want to leave,” Zushi said.

“But we’re going to the team house,” Gon said.

Zushi groaned. He rose up to his feet and said, “Fuck, you’re right. Okay, I’m ready to go.”

The team house was farther from the convention center in Oakland. They had to cross the bridge to get there, which nearly put Gon over the edge of euphoria. It was the most excitement he had had in a long while, and he wanted to spend every damn day in San Francisco now. It was bright and colorful even in the nighttime when the homes were sleepy and the streets were quiet. Canary drove them up a steep hill and turned down a road high up in view of all of the bay, all of the city on the sea. They could see the Golden Gate bridge from here, between the houses, until Canary pulled up onto the curb beside one such home.

The driveway was flanked on either side by brick columns that framed an iron, gated entryway. Canary walked them to it, sifting through her key ring before undoing the gate lock. It was nothing fancy, but the house itself definitely was. It was all white on the outside, fashioned with a classic, stucco exterior and heavy masonry. The doorways were all arches and the windows stretched across the entire second floor and onto the third interspersed between stucco caps.

The garage door was painted blue and on it, Canary punched in the code to open it. She opened the door to the kitchen before tapping on the light panel on the wall. It glowed up and displayed a control panel that soon brought the house to life.

The kitchen came into view. Gon recognized it from the tour, but at night, it looked so different. It felt like they were trespassing, like Gon was a raccoon on the porch and in any minute now, he’d be put under a spotlight and the laser of a sniper rifle.

“Well, this is where I leave you three. Call me when you want to head back to the hotel. I don’t know if any of the team members plan on coming back tonight,” Canary confessed.

“Okay, thanks for bringing us here,” Alluka said.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Food’s in the fridge, don’t get too rowdy.”

With that, Canary left with a bright, “Ta-ta!” and shut the garage door. They heard the door whir shut and the metal gate lock in the dead of the night.

Gon walked hesitantly through the kitchen, afraid to touch anything. Unlike him, though, Alluka went straight to one of the cabinets and swung it open. Liquor bottles filled the top shelves and, on the bottom, sat pristine, clean glasses. Gon had never seen so much alcohol in a place that wasn’t a bar and, as it seemed, neither had Zushi. Zushi put a hand to his mouth as Alluka looked over her shoulder at them with a maniacal grin and said, “Who’s ready to get lit tonight, boys?”

Chapter Text

Gon absolutely loved to play bartender for Alluka and Zushi, and that was exactly what he did that evening in the AssassiNation house. He popped the ice cubes out of the tray and dropped a few into Alluka’s drink before cracking open a can of coca cola to top off the Malibu. Alluka clapped her hands as he slid it across the counter to her. She tasted it and when Gon inquired, she gave him a thumbs up.

“Just the right amount,” she said.

Zushi was rooting through the cabinet on the tips of his toes. At last, he gasped at a delightful discovery in the back corner: an unopened bottle of gin. The instant Gon saw it, he was at the refrigerator scouring for one thing in particular. He grabbed it from the door of the fridge before kicking it shut and holding up a bottle of lemon juice. Alluka applauded as Zushi and Gon combined assets and cracked open a can of ginger ale.

“See if you can find sugar, my good man,” Gon said.

“Aye, aye,” Zushi said before saluting Gon and disappearing behind him to root through the cabinets. In the process, Zushi wound up at the end of the counter bent over what appeared to be a control panel mounted on the wall beside the outlets. Gon and Alluka heard the telltale sign of buttons being pressed. Gon shared a look with Alluka, who eyed Zushi quizzically before gasping in realization.

“Oh!” she cried, lunging to her feet. She hurried over and said, “We can play music on there! Here, I’ll show you.”

She took out her phone and synced it to the machine. A moment later, music started playing from across the kitchen in all directions. Gon startled, feeling like he was in a bubble where nothing existed beyond the kitchen—that the lights in the kitchen and the music in the speakers were the only things real in that moment. The darkness outside and the pitch black living room were unknown territory, and Gon was satisfied, for the moment, staying in the kitchen with a bottle of gin and the company of his two best friends.

Gon made two gin and tonic lemonades for himself and Zushi using the one shot glass available on the counter. They washed it out, only to use it again when their drinks were empty. They watched stupid videos on their phones and laughed until their stomachs hurt and it made more sense to lay flat on the counter rather than to touch their feet on the ground. The floor became lava at some point and soon, all three of them could be found on their bellies, elbows propped up, hands under their chins as they watched stupid Vine compilation videos to pass the time.

The island countertop was the size of a whale, so they had no trouble fitting. Gon poured a third shot glass just as Zushi squinted at it and examined the size of it in relation to his index finger. Zushi pursed his lips as Gon dumped it into his glass and topped it with ginger ale.

“Uh, dude,” Zushi said.

“Yes, my sweet Zushi Roll,” Gon said, grinning like an idiot.

Zushi held up the shot glass and said, “I think this is a double shot.”

Gon stared at it, then stared at him, before tipping his glass against the empt shot glass. “Cheers to that,” Gon said before taking a sip of his drink. Alluka laughed and pushed her cheek to Gon’s shoulder.

“You’re so cute,” she cooed. “Pour me another?”

“Yes, my queen,” Gon said. He shimmied backward until his legs were off the counter. He groaned as he slumped to the ground and straightened up. His head swished like a bowl full of water and he swayed a little before at last getting his footing, both hands braced on the counter. “’M fine,” he slurred.

“Dude, you’re drunk,” Zushi said.

“Not drunk,” Gon said, snapping his fingers at Zushi. He grabbed the Malibu bottle by the neck and grabbed the half-empty coke can. “I don’t get drunk,” Gon said with the level of sass he only got when drunk.

Zushi laughed, cheeks as Gon pat him on the head with the coke can. He poured it into Alluka’s empty glass and topped it with a shot of Malibu. He capped the bottle and put it back by the gin. He decided he didn’t want to lie down again in fear of falling asleep, so he wandered around the kitchen and moved on to the living room.

He could hear Zushi and Alluka’s giggling as he passed by the dining room windows. There was a patio dotted with solar-powered lights in the garden. There was a pool out on the deck—small, cute, and rippling in the night and casting dollops of light across the surface. He didn’t bring his swimming suit, so he walked away to avoid being tempted by that oh-so tantalizing water. Besides, it was chillier in San Francisco.

Gon wandered to the stairs where he paused to stare at a pair of beady, black eyes staring back at him from amongst a cotton ball. Gon rubbed his eyes and laughed when he realized that he was staring at the one and only Hatsu.

He pointed to the samoyed and looked over at where he could see Zushi and Alluka’s feet hanging off of the counter. “Hey, guys, I found Hatsu!”

“Hatsu bites! Be careful!” Alluka called back.

Hatsu tipped her cute little head at Gon. Gon “aw!”ed before taking the first few steps up to the landing where Hatsu huffed at him, bouncing on her paws. Gon stilled a moment, smile wide as he crouched down to her level. He reached a hand out and prompted her with sweet words of encouragement. Hatsu’s damp, black nose brushed his fingers before diving in, shoving her head into his palm. He giggled and gave her all of the kisses and rubs she so desired. He gave her shoulders a scratch and fluffed up her chest fur so she looked like a fearsome lion.

“You’re such a sweet thing,” Gon cooed.

Hatsu shook as if shaking off water. Gon giggled and followed after her as she padded up the stairs to the second floor. Each step burned in his thighs, but he didn’t care, because this house was amazing.

Hatsu took him to a familiar room. It was featured briefly in the tour—covered in pink and black decorations with fluffy pillows and a white, shag rug. Gon’s toes wove through the fabric and he wiggled them as Hatsu stared up at him, panting, before leaving the room.

“Where are you taking me, sweet thing?” Gon said, following after her to the next room. In the tour, this one had been empty all except for a guest bed and a few miscellaneous decorations. Now, it was decked out in blues and whites. The gaming setup was sick as Hell—the desktop was clear so Gon could see all the gears and the LED blue lights pulsing through it. He ran his finger along the black and blue bed covers as Hatsu took him down the hall and through an open door.

They passed a closet on the way to an open room that was too familiar.

He was in Killua’s room.

His room was wide and open all except for a queen sized bed, a ridiculously large desk, and white, padded gamer chair. Gon took a seat in it, a little woozy, and hoped he wouldn’t throw up all over Killua’s shit. His keyboard glowed rainbow colors under Gon’s fingers as he trailed them across the used keys before shaking the mouse.

Killua’s computer was locked—go figure—so Gon let it be. He went to Killua’s bed where the white comforter blended into Hatsu’s fur. Gon collapsed beside her, an arm around her fluff, and hugged her as he stared at the vaulted, vacant ceiling. He thought to himself, This is what it’s like as a pro gamer. He wouldn’t have minded the setup, but he would miss the animals. He’d miss his biology classes. He’d miss field research days.

In the midst of giving Hatsu all of the love, he was interrupted by the sound of a door slamming open and a flurry of voices entering the house. He sat up sharply—too sharply—and felt like the contents of his brain were sloshing over. He stood up and hurried to the door. Hatsu huffed as she leapt from the bed to chase after him. She stood at attention as he put a hand to the edge of Killua’s door and listened intently for the sound of voices flooding the kitchen.

“—I didn’t think you’d be back tonight—”

“Canary said you were here—I wanted to see you.” Killua.

Killua was in the house.

Gon yelped and scrambled away from the door, tripping a little on the wood. He skidded at the entrance to the room, only to backtrack and scurry, heart racing, into the closet. He slid the door shut as he heard someone say, “My favorite Alluka!” before Alluka said, “I’m the only Alluka you know, Knuckle.”

Hatsu barked outside of the door.

“Sh!” Gon hissed, a hand to the door. He slid it open a touch when Hatsu barked at him again. Hatsu tipped her head to the side, innocent as ever, and Gon whispered, “Be quiet, my beautiful snow lion.”

“Is that Hatsu?” that same voice said—Knuckle Bine. Gon hadn’t seen many of his streams, but he had heard talk of him amongst Killua and Ikalgo.

Gon cursed and slid the door shut again. He was up six-nothing on swear words that week and he had a feeling he needed to save them up for tomorrow.

“Who the fuck is this?” Killua said, which was promptly followed by a feminine voice saying, “Gentle, Kill.”

“I’m Zushi.”

Gon listened as Ikalgo shouted, “Thee ZushiRoll! Amazing!” Gon shivered at the sound of Ikalgo’s voice so close, reminding Gon that he was no more than a door and a floor away from all of the people he spent the past three weeks watching on stream.

“Zushi,” Killua slurred in a half-growl. Heat flooded to Gon’s face when the comment was followed up with, “Where the fuck’s Gon.”

The silence that followed said it all. Alluka squeaked suddenly as a pair of footsteps came thundering up the stairs a second later. A jolt went through every fiber of Gon’s being that told him to hide behind Killua’s clothes. He panicked the instant he grabbed a handful of them to tear aside, only to realize that it was pointless. He stood, frozen, in the middle of the closet while Alluka cried, “Relax! It’s fine—Everything’s fine—Killua, come on!”

Gon leapt away from the door when the footsteps stilled just outside of Killua’s open bedroom door. Gon felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest as he saw a shadow fall past the crevice of the door, just against the wood flooring. Heavy boots fell near where Hatsu let out a ferocious growl. Killua’s voice subdued it, hissing in an equally deep, menacing growl, “Get out of my room, rat.” Hatsu pranced off, claws clicking on the wood.

Gon shivered at the sound of Killua’s voice barely muffled through the closed closet door. He was so damn close, Gon feared Killua could hear his heart thudding, straining against his ribcage.

The closet door flung open.

Gon screamed like a little girl.

He slapped a hand over his chest as Killua didn’t seem the least bit fazed. “What the fuck are you doing in my closet,” Killua deadpanned, bright blue eyes narrowed skeptically as they always were.

Gon stared at him. Killua—the guy who effectively took over Gon’s entire relationship with the internet—was staring right back at him with mused, white hair looking killer as always. Gon was struck by the realization that he had never seen such a three-dimensional, real Killua in the flesh and blood. He thought he might faint if he held his breath any longer.

“I-I panicked,” Gon said, near-tears.

Killua looked somewhat disgusted as a voice sounded down the hall. When Killua turned away, Gon took that brief second to suck in a deep breath. Breathing exercises. What did the doctor tell him to do again? In—Out—

“Stay the fuck over there, Knucks, or I’ll punt your ass to Saturn,” Killua snapped jabbing his finger at someone who was at the stairs, hands hooked up on the railing. Knuckle whined as he swayed drunkenly to the side and tripped onto the stairs.

“I’ll—just go now—” Gon started, slipping past the closet threshold. He was put straight up against Killua, who was just as stubborn as their squad match with Ikalgo and Pika. He didn’t move an inch.

Instead, when he did pull away, Killua reached out to the door handle. From the stairs Knuckle said, “I wanna meet Gons!” to which Killua replied, “You’ll meet him after I’m done talking to him.” and slammed the door shut. He locked it.

Gon was still reeling from the proximity they had mere seconds ago. He had felt the heat of Killua through that thick, black sweatshirt. Gon felt his pulse in his throat as he swallowed hard, eyes widening when Killua turned back to him and grabbed him by the shoulder.

Gon squeaked when Killua shoved him back against the closet doorframe. “Look, I know you’re probably mad at me—” Gon started in a panic. He felt Killua’s nails digging into his shoulder.

Killua’s grip tightened. Gon let out a shuddered curse because fuck it if this wasn’t every wet dream he had of Killua. Not that… he had many of them… He could count them on one hand, sure, but that didn’t say much considering he only just met Killua last week.

Killua leant forward so Gon could feel his breath on his cheek—the alcohol on his tongue—as he hissed, “Shut up.”

Gon tasted coconut on Killua’s lips and the tang of alcohol on his tongue as Killua pushed his head back against the wood with his mouth. Gon grunted against Killua’s lips, responding to the kiss with every ounce of desperation he felt that week. He gripped Killua by the waistband of his black skinny jeans and pulled their hips flush against one another. Gon shivered against Killua’s mouth, his breath and sanity escaping him.

Killua’s lips were hot and wet against his skin, sucking at his bottom lip. Killua’s tongue delved between his teeth and opened Gon’s mouth so he could hear the moan in the back of Gon’s throat when Killua grabbed him by the ass. He felt jittery and he was on all levels of turned on. His skin felt swelteringly hot under his shirt—the heat was so sharp he shivered at the spike of sudden, intense cold rippling up his spine when Killua’s fingers dug into the meat of his ass. He positively ached when Killua dragged his hot palm against the skin of Gon’s lower back, nails skimming his flesh. Killua’s fingers trailed under the hem of Gon’s shorts.

“Why—the fuck—are you here?” Killua gasped between kisses, their lips never separating more than a centimeter.

Gon sucked his lips against Killua’s mouth once more before leaning back, head tipped back against the wall. He could feel Killua’s saliva turning cold on his lips as he said, out of breath, “Canary bought me and Zushi a flight here for MetaCon.”

“Canary?” Killua said, pulling back. He was panting, eyes wider than Gon had ever seen. He was used to Killua’s constant skepticism, snide remarks, teasing scowls. That was all softened by the flush in his cheeks that sent Gon’s heart fluttering in his chest. “Where are you staying?”

“Same hotel as Alluka,” Gon said, and the reminder of that damn hotel room had his eyes brightening all the more. “It’s amazing! I’ve never been in a suite before. Zushi and I—”

Killua crushed his mouth against Gon’s. Gon’s eyes fluttered shut as Killua’s voice sounded deep and hoarse in the back of his throat, saying, “Stop talking.”

Gon didn’t hesitate to comply. He didn’t hesitate to follow Killua’s lead when the shoulders on his jacket began to slip and Killua shoved them down to his elbows. Gon dropped his jacket at the door and let himself be dragged to the bed.

Killua reached behind him and shucked the white comforter off. He turned, his hot, clammy hands on Gon’s bare arms as he turned Gon to the edge of the mattress and shoved him onto the checkered sheets. Gon’s brain was liquid in his skull and it threatened to boil over as he shivered at the sound of his zipper coming undone.

“Were you kidding about bottoming?” Killua asked as he slotted his knee onto the bed beside Gon’s thigh.

Gon’s eyes trailed along Killua’s waist, his hands dragging down the taunt muscles of his thighs straining against those black skinny jeans. “Why would I kid about that?” Gon said, looking up to meet Killua’s eyes.

Killua hesitated. He could feel Killua’s thigh against his side and he let himself drag a finger across the textured denim and hook on the frayed tear above Killua’s knee. “In my experience,” Killua said, catching his breath, “guys who’re gym junkies have power complexes.”

“In your experience?” Gon repeated, smiling. “Are you just referencing yourself?”

Killua shoved him by the shoulders so hard he bounced on the bed, giggling. He held onto Killua’s wrists even as he tore open the flap of Gon’s jeans and ripped them down. “How drunk are you.”

Gon was floating on Cloud Nine. “Decently, but lucid. You?”

“I’m fucked,” Killua said as he yanked his belt loose and undid his black skinny jeans. “The fucking—the shit’s in the—the fucking nightstand.”

Gon laughed as he sat up a little, worming his way out from between Killua’s legs so he could reach the drawer. “I swear if I stick my hand in here and there’s actual poop—whoa!”

He barely had the lube bottle in his grasp before Killua was heaving him back by a hand hooked under Gon’s knees. Killua reached uselessly for the condom box, which Gon took from him and tore open a pack with little difficulty. Gon giggled again, this time out of excited nerves. Killua was in nothing but a pair of tube socks because he was an absolute demon in the flesh. Killua ordered that he take his shirt off, to which Gon replied, “Aye, aye, Caillou,” which pretty much summed up just how fucked he was going to be in the next two minutes. Without a doubt, he did it on purpose to get Killua riled up.

Gon had sex in the past—his first time was freshmen year and after that it was really just the basic, no-commitment bullshit. In other words, he hadn’t done it in a year and he was out of practice, hot, and giddy. It didn’t hurt as much as he remembered it hurting, and he was blissfully surprised by how quickly that spike of agony passed. After that, it was just pure, fucking paradise.

Afterwards, Gon took his clothes to Killua’s ensuite bathroom where he cleaned up, pissed, and dressed. He combed his hands through his hair before splashing water on his face and scrubbing it with a towel. He felt tipsy in ways he never felt before and his muscles felt lax and loose like the putty in his mind. He caught himself smiling in the mirror and pushed a hand to his cheek as if to say, “No, stop that. Stop that right this instant, mister!”

Before leaving, he spritzed himself with a bottle of Killua’s cologne. He shook his head through the mist since his legs were jello, but somehow he managed to leave the bathroom unscathed. He stopped in that short hallway where the bathroom faced the closet, adjacent to the exit, and found Killua completely passed out on the bed. His head of fluffy hair reminded Gon of Hatsu, blending with the white comforter.

Gon smiled before leaving the room and gently shutting the door behind him.

Gon padded softly past the railing to the stairs. He slipped his jacket back on and half-zipped it up. He felt wide awake and alive as he stepped cautiously down the stairs, still vibrating from what he and Killua had just done. He couldn’t sleep now! There was so much energy left inside of him just waiting to explode. He took all of that energy with him to the chaos erupting in the living room where the party moved with Alluka and Zushi.

Gon met Alluka’s eyes first. His first task was to ensure that Alluka did not know that her brother’s dick had been in his ass.

He waved eagerly and beamed at the others as they glanced back at him. Hatsu looked up from where she was lying at Zushi and Knuckles’ feet. “Hey, guys! How’s it going?”

Alluka narrowed her eyes at him. “Where’s Killua?” she asked, skeptical.

“Oh, I pushed him off the balcony,” Gon said.

“Oh, well, I’m glad your fight is settled then,” Alluka said despite the alarm on the others’ faces. Zushi didn’t look too concerned.

“Yeah, he apologized,” Gon said. He took the last remaining spot on the couch with a sigh and looked around at all of the faces. There were four faces, half of which Gon was very familiar with.

Of them, Pika narrowed their eyes at him. “Kill apologized?” they said.

Gon scratched the side of his face with a grimace, saying, “Not in… so many words… He was also pretty tipsy, so…”

“Guess we’ll see how he feels in the morning, then,” a familiar, hulking guy with slick black hair said. Gon recognized him from the stairs.

Gon pointed to him and said, “You’re Knuckle, right?”

“That I am, my friend,” Knuckle said. He leant over Zushi, who sat beside Gon, with a hand outstretched. Gon gave it a firm shake and offered a bright smile. Knuckle looked straight out of the musical Grease—all he needed was a leather jacket instead of the fluffy, teal bomber jacket he wore. Knuckle then swept his arm to Pika, who was perched on the armrest of one of the chairs, a dubious look on their face. “You’ve met Kurapika, better known as Pika.”

“We met, briefly,” Gon confessed with a weak smile. Hatsu got up and went to put her head on Gon’s lap. He peppered her with kisses as Pika stared blankly at him.

“You ditched me with those two idiots,” they said.

“I did, didn’t I?” Gon hummed in a cheesy, childish tone against Hatsu’s fur.

From the other side of the coffee table, Ikalgo jolted and point a finger to himself, saying, “I’m an idiot? No I’m not!”

“Some might say otherwise,” the woman beside Pika said. Pika snorted as the woman smiled sweetly at Ikalgo before turning to Gon. She offered a light wave and said, “Nice to finally meet you, Gon. I’m Palm.”

She was lanky with long, black hair that was loosely braided off to one size. Judging from the pink bow in her hair, Gon thought back to the pink and black room Hatsu showed him earlier. “Nice to meet you, too,” he said, smiling.

“I didn’t realize you were coming to Meta,” Ikalgo said. “Not that I’m complaining or anything. It’s cool that you made it.”

“Yeah, Canary invited me,” he said, glancing over at Zushi. Zushi bit his lip and Gon got the message. “To… participate in that Hunter versus Hunter tournament tomorrow.”

Ikalgo’s eyes widened and beside Zushi, Knuckle sat back with a low whistle, arms crossed over his wide, beefy pecs. Palm put a hand to her mouth and looked up at Kurapika, who sat up a bit straighter at the mention of it. Knuckle combed his hands through his hair then as he leant forward, elbows on his knees. He gave a small shake of his head before saying, each word stressed slowly, “No offense, buddy, but you haven’t gone up against guys like this.”

Gon frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t even know how to build, Gons,” Ikalgo said.

“So? You don’t need to build,” Gon said and even Zushi grimaced. Gon stared at them all before his shoulders slumped, disappointed. He wasn’t looking for support, necessarily, but he at least hoped to have fun with Killua’s buddies over the tournament. “Well, who am I going up against?”

“You’re looking at your competition, dude,” Kurapika said.

Palm clasped her hands together against her chest and said, “We’re all participating! There will be much blood, guts, and glory come tomorrow. We will all be doing our best to annihilate you.”

Gon visibly paled. He never felt like this before, like someone pulled the plug on him and all of the blood in his circulatory system flushed out.

Before he could pass out, Knuckle said, “Have you been playing this week?” When Gon shook his head, Knuckle bowed his head forward over his closed fists and murmured, “Dear Lord Almighty. Okay, buddy, what are you doing tomorrow morning?”

“C-Canary’s picking me up to go to the center—”

“Cancel it. You’re staying here—I’m teaching you how to build,” Knuckle said, rising to his feet.

“What?!” Ikalgo shrieked. “Dude, he’s our competition! That’s literally all we’ve got on him—”

Knuckle jabbed a finger at him and said, “Fuck off. Hatsu approves of him, so I need him to be his best self.”

Ikalgo bolted to his feet, fists clenched and chest puffed out. He sidled up to Knuckle until they were nose-to-nose, foreheads butted together like a bunch of bulls. Gon watched with wide eyes as Ikalgo said, “Oh yeah, pussy?” and Knuckle said, “Oh, you wanna go? You wanna fight?” Ikalgo shoved him in the chest and said, arms out, “Yeah, I wanna fight!”

And then, they were wrestling in the middle of the living room. Hatsu started barking up a storm, practically sitting on Gon’s lap until at long last putting her head back and howling long and loud. Kurapika walked over and clamped their hand over Hatsu’s muzzle to shut her up. They then walked over to where Knuckle had Ikalgo in a chokehold and Ikalgo was fake-wheezing like he was dying of an asthma attack. Kurapika kicked Knuckle in the ass with the side of their foot.

Knuckle immediately dropped Ikalgo with a yelp.

“If you’re gonna train Gon, you’ve got less than eight hours,” they said.

“Shit, you’re right,” Knuckle said, pushing himself to his feet. Ikalgo dropped to the rug with a gasp, flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling, a changed man. Knuckle brushed off his knees and marched over to Gon, who tensed up out of instinct before realizing that Knuckle was just ushering him to his feet. “Let’s go kick some ass, Freakss.” 

Chapter Text

Gon spent that entire night in Knuckle’s room letting his eyes shrivel up in his eyesocktets through the wee hours of the morning. He played on Knuckle’s old PC, his legs crossed on the chair Ikalgo leant them. As they faced off in sandbox practicing building techniques, Ikalgo and Zushi laid on Knuckle’s bed and watched from afar.

Gon could feel his fingers cramping somewhere near three AM, but Knuckle refused to be hindered by it. His sheer amount of dedication kept Gon awake through five AM when he turned around and found Zushi passed out on Knuckle’s bed and Ikalgo lying there, eyes wide, watching them like a goddamn owl on a perch.

At around six, both Gon and Knuckle crashed. Neither of them could win the build battles without first falling off of their precipices. Knuckle called it quits after the sixth time of being gunned down by Gon on his accidental descent. He flipped his keyboard over and said, “I’m fucking done. You’ve mastered me, Freakss.”

“I what?” Gon rasped, rubbing a hand over his eye. His jaws parted into a wide yawn as he stretched an arm up over his head.

“This is it, my friend. You’ve graduated, I guess, kudos,” Knuckle said as he got up. He leant over and kissed Gon on the head before moving on to Ikalgo to do the same. Ikalgo was now half-asleep but still kicking, which was exactly what he did and managed to nail Knuckle in the shin on his way to the restroom. When Knuckle cursed loudly, he woke up Zushi, he started with a gasp, a sniff, and a disjointed, “M’rnin’?”

“Not quite, my guy,” Gon said.

Since Knuckle was shut up in the restroom, Ikalgo pointed to the door and said, “There’s a pullout couch in the basement if you just wanna crash here.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Gon said.

Ikalgo walked them down the stairs. Hatsu was fast asleep on the rug in the living room and remained that way as they circled around the railing to the basement door. Zushi dragged his feet after Gon before they at last came to a stop at the basement archway. The couch was a sectional and, since they were too lazy to pull out the bed, the two of them collapsed with their heads on adjacent cushions and promptly passed out. Gon’s eyelids were so heavy it burned to keep them up. When at last they closed, he was a goner.

At ten in the morning, he awoke to the sensation of Alluka poking him in the cheek and saying, “Boop.”

Gon sucked in a deep breath and moaned dramatically before stretching his arms back and screaming out a yawn that woke Zushi up. Zushi rolled to the side, muttering, “What the fuck—” before at last realizing that Alluka was staring at the both of them, fully dressed and ready for the day. The side Zushi slept on made his cheek pink and skyrocketed his eyebrow hairs. Gon assumed he looked no better so he got up to find an actual mirror as Alluka explained the days events.

“Canary’s picking us up soon. Just figured you two would want some time to get ready,” she said.

Gon patted her cheek and said, “You’re a blessing to this universe, Alluka.”

Alluka beamed and said, “Aw, thank you. Now get your ass up.”

Standing up, though, reminded Gon of what he and Killua had done and not in the best way possible. He groaned and when Alluka asked if he was all right, he said, “From sitting all last night,” so fast Alluka got whiplash. He let out a breath of relief. He couldn’t believe that lie flew off the tip of his tongue like that—it was impressive.

He didn’t bring a spare change of clothes to the AssassiNation house, but he didn’t really care. His jacket and shorts were pretty neutral—at least, that was what he thought, but as he’d soon find out, other people had other opinions about what to and what not to wear to MetaCon. Since Zushi claimed the basement bathroom, Gon walked up with Alluka to the first floor where the sound of sizzling eggs and popping bacon reached his ears. He took a whiff of it all, mouth watering, and distractedly followed Alluka to the kitchen. He lingered at the outskirts as he realized that Knuckle was alive and well and cooking up food on the stove. The liquor bottles were still out and a familiar white-haired demon picked up the Malibu by the bottle and looked back at Alluka.

Killua held it up and Alluka giggled nervously. “You fucking serious?” Killua said. Killua pointed to himself and said, “My shit.”

“Really? You like rum too?” Alluka said, suddenly eager. Killua’s expression said it all: This was not something to get excited over. “Right, sorry. Underaged drinking… yada-yada-yada…”

“That’s fucking right,” Killua said. He looked up past Alluka then and met Gon’s eyes.

They stared at each other for a full minute before Killua’s eyes dropped to Gon’s jacket and shorts. He scoffed a little, turned away, and shoved the Malibu bottle back on the shelf. When that was done, he walked over to Gon, shaking his head. “No. Absolutely-fucking-not. You aren’t wearing that to Meta.”

“I’m not?” Gon said. “Should I just go nude?”

Alluka snorted and Knuckle turned around with a startled laugh. Killua shoved his hand in Gon’s face, forcing him back around and shoving him in the direction of the stairs. “I’ll launch your smartass to the street if you make one more snide remark,” Killua snarled. Gon giggled as he pranced up the stairs and turned to beam at Alluka, who rolled her eyes from her post at the island counter stools.

Gon felt all jittery again. Once again, he was in Killua’s closet, this time being ordered to strip. Gon looked back to Killua’s open bedroom door, and Killua rolled his eyes with a curse before sneaking past Gon to shut the door. He looked at Gon as if to say, “There, you happy?”

“Thanks,” Gon said.

Killua waved a hand and said, “Not like I haven’t fucking seen it all. Put this on.”

Gon caught the pair of joggers Killua chucked at him. He stepped out of his shorts and kicked them aside, standing in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and his dignity before Killua’s floor length mirror. He held the joggers up to his waist and said, “Are you sure it’s okay I use your clothes?”

“Alluka said you’re on a panel, right? You won’t have time to go back to the hotel anyway,” Killua said.

“A panel?” Gon repeated, brow furrowing. Killua glanced at him, which Gon saw through the mirror as he wiggled into the joggers and tugged the drawstring tight. “I’m in the tournament today.”

Killua wrung the shirt in his hands by the neck. A moment passed before Gon realized that he said the absolute wrong thing when Killua bit out, “You’re fucking what?” with the most horrifying, fake smile Gon had ever witnessed with his own two eyes. He shuddered when Killua whipped the shirt at him. He floundered to catch it, at which point Killua was already gone, slamming through the door, and stomping to the stairs yelling, “Alluka, you bitch!”

Alluka giggled nervously from the first floor. “Oh no, Gon told you, didn’t he?” Alluka cooed almost teasingly.

Gon winced at the sound of something crashing. He hurriedly tugged on the shirt before racing out of the room and skidding up to the railing where he could see Killua trying to throw a stool whilst screaming, “YOU TAUGHT HIM HOW TO BUILD?!” while Knuckle defended himself with the spatula, saying, “It was the honorable thing to do!”

Gon felt a breeze behind it before Palm appeared, passing him on her way to the stairs. She clapped her hands sharply to get the attention of Knuckle and Killua. She snapped her fingers at Killua and said, “Hey, don’t throw the chairs—we don’t technically own them, they came with the house.”

Killua threw his head back with a groan. He shoved the stool legs back onto the floor and tossed his arms up. “There. Happy?” he said.

Palm tossed her hair back and said, “Not usually. If someone doesn’t make me coffee stat I’ll start screaming.”

“Shit,” Killua said, and the kitchen was back in motion once more with Killua putting together the makings of strong coffee and Knuckle pushing a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Alluka and Palm.

Gon staggered down the steps, off-balance but still put together in Killua’s clothes. The state of his mind, on the other hand, was pure chaos. He ran his fingers over the hem of the shirt Killua gave him. It was the first thing Alluka noticed when he returned to the kitchen. She pointed to the logo on the chest of the shirt and said, “Are you seriously using Gon for merch advertisement?”

“Yeah, so?” Killua said with a snicker, leaning against the countertop with that devious smile on his face that made his bedhead look purposeful.

“Dude he’s in the tournament with us and he isn’t even an Assassin,” Knuckle said.

“Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” Killua said. “You’re the one who actually gave him a fucking shot. So if he wins, we get first dibs.”

“Oh, I’m not—” Gon started, awkwardly. Knuckle, Palm, and Killua all turned to look at him. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m not planning on playing for a living.”

“Then get out of my fucking house, dude,” Killua said.

“Be nice,” Alluka sighed, like she had seen this all before.

Killua laughed darkly, and if Gon knew anything about that, he knew what was coming next. It was because of this that Gon wasn’t entirely startled when Killua slammed his hand on the counter so hard, the sound echoed across the house. He leant forward and hissed at Alluka, “This isn’t a fucking game to us.”

Alluka stared dully at him and said, “If you’re mad, tell Gon.”

“I know it isn’t just a game—” Gon started, but it was useless. He felt just as helpless as he had been in the hospital when Killua glowered at him from across the countertop like that.

“Then why the fuck did you accept the invitation,” Killua snapped, voice raising. He gestured towards Gon and said, fists clenching, “You haven’t been at this for years like we have, so if you fucking win, it’ll just be a one-off for you. But for us, we wouldn’t just be losing instant cash. We’d be losing opportunities. The guy who won the 2018 Meta travels the fucking globe for this shit.”

Gon wanted to look at his feet, at the ceiling—anywhere but Killua’s searing gaze. He held Killua’s eyes even as Killua came to stand in front of him on his way to the stairs. Gon swallowed hard as Killua sneered at him and shoved him in the shoulder with a shake of his head. As he walked off, he said, “Reconsider your goddamn priorities—then we’ll talk.”

Gon watched as Killua jogged up the stairs and vanished past the railing. He felt sick to his stomach as he turned to find everyone in the kitchen staring at him—along with a shaggy-haired Zushi standing at the basement archway. He had a towel draped over his head and a look of shock on his face that let Gon know the full extent of how badly he miscalculated this situation.

During the drive, Gon kept his hands clasped over the spare keyboard and mouse Knuckle leant to him early that morning. Before Canary could take them away, Knuckle passed it through the window of the vehicle along with the headset he had used that night. Gon reached for it hesitantly as Knuckle said, “Take it, trust me—the default equipment is shitty as Hell.” Gon was so startled he nearly forgot to thank Knuckle until they were already past the gated entrance. Gon leant out the window and waved, shouting, “Thank you!”

Canary drove Gon, Zushi, and Alluka to the back entrance of the convention center where she bestowed upon them three VIP passes. Gon wrapped the laminated badge around his neck where Knuckle’s headset rested.The badge on his chest felt more and more like it weighed enough to dismantle the patriarchy if given one hefty throw.

“Alluka, Zushi—feel free to walk back to the hotel. Just know that I’ll be treating you two to lunch,” Canary said as they prepared to separate from the group.

“What about me?” Gon asked.

“Tournament participants get a free meal,” she said.

That almost made it worth it. Almost.

“There’s a panel I want to catch before the tournament,” Alluka confessed, biting her lip. She looked down at her Day Two clothes with a sigh and said, “but I should probably change.”

“You look fine,” Zushi said.

“You’re a straight guy, though, so…”

“Yeah, but at least I’m not also white,” Zushi said. “I’ve got style.”

“No, that doesn’t mean you suddenly have a fashion sense,” she insisted, throwing her arms up. “Besides, you’re wearing the same clothes from yesterday! Come on, we’re going back to the hotel this instant.”

“Would you be entirely disappointed with me if I said I only brought one other change of clothes?” Zushi asked as Alluka dragged him towards the exit with a hand on his wrist. She skidded to a halt to stare at him in horror, and Zushi laughed, looking over his shoulder at Gon as Alluka grumbled obscenities under her breath. “By Gon! We’ll see you after the tournament!”

Gon waved weakly before dropping his hand with a sigh. He waited until they were in the building where the wide, concrete corridor stretched high over their heads and circled around the outskirts of the panel rooms. It smelled like chalk and sawdust in there as Gon breathed it all in before saying, “Killua’s so mad at me.” He didn’t want to look her in the eye, so he didn’t, but his curiosity ate him alive.

Canary sucked in a sharp breath and said, “He is mad more often than not. Don’t take it personally, Gon.”

“But if I win—” Gon started, only to be stopped by Canary’s hand on his shoulder.

“Gon, I didn’t bring you here to win. Quite honestly, I don’t expect you too,” she said.

“Gee, thanks,” he said.

She gave him a squeeze. “But… I don’t think you should aim to not win. Pardon my French, but you won’t be doing anyone justice by half-assing it. I believe you will be more disappointed in yourself if you don’t try your hardest.”

“But the Assassins—I want them to win. They can’t win if I win,” he insisted.

“They’re all pitted against one another, Gon,” she told him. He wasn’t sure why this came as a surprise to him. He had hoped, somehow, that the Assassins would be working together for first place. It made sense, though, that they’d be fighting one another. “Teams aren’t allowed to work together in solo tournaments. Killua will be working just as hard to beat Ikalgo as he will be beating you.”

Gon shut his mouth and nodded, silent. Canary smiled at him before giving him one last pat on the shoulder. She moved away, heels clicking on the concrete. “Come on, then. The tournament’s taking place at the Heaven’s Arena dome.”

Gon didn’t know quite was she was talking about until they were standing on a balcony overlooking an atrium with a curved roof. The arena could have fit an entire spacecraft and Aunt Mito-san’s truck all on the playing field. The “field” wasn’t necessarily a field, rather, it was a court with raised, circular platforms that organized rows of desks that rounded into the shape of a circular maze. Event staff was bustling about underneath the florescent lights and the massive, cube of screens suspended over the court. The Heaven’s Arena brand was printed over the screens facing all sides fo the circular atrium.

Gon stood on the cusp of the stairs leading down to the court. He breathed in the smell of rubber, of cleaning supplies, and the stale, all-encompassing smell of plastic. Music was playing softly on the speakers as Canary walked Gon down the steps and to the plexiglass door at the bottom divider. She knocked lightly on it and waved to one of the event staff members. She held her VIP card up and the worker unlocked the door for them.

“Let’s find out what seat you’ll be in,” Canary told Gon as she strode across the court to the main stage at the far end of the maze of desks. All of the desks were divided by thick walls printed with name brands, logos, and names printed and slipped into card holders. He didn’t recognize many of the gamertags, but eventually they passed a familiar one: PikaPika.

Gon stopped in front of Kurapika’s table and pointed to it, saying, “That’s where Kurapika’s gonna play?”

Canary looked and hummed, “Yes, it seems so.”

They walked along Kurapika’s row of desks and on the way, they passed Ikalgo’s stand as well. They climbed the opposite ring of stairs and, next to that walkway, Gon found his gamertag pinned over a monitor.

“Hey, that’s me!” Gon said.

“Let’s get you checked in and register your keyboard and mouse before you set up,” she suggested, and together they went to the desk at the front of the room. Behind it stretched a massive television screen the size of seven billboards. It was turned off for the moment as Canary tapped on the desk and a woman peered down at them asking how she could help. The woman took Gon’s keyboard and mouse from him and held a hand out for the headset. He unwrapped it and passed it over. She took it for a moment before handing them back along with a slip of paper for Gon to fill out.

Before leaving, he had a name tag pinned to his shirt. He marveled at it as he and Canary returned to his desk station.

“Do you need help setting up?” she asked, and Gon shook his head.

He unwrapped the keyboard wire from around the keys and pulled the chair back with his foot. Canary stood beside him as he reached behind the monitor to plug in his equipment. The mouse Knuckle gave him was wired and, after being in a box for so long, the cord was kinked and stiff. He straightened it out but gave up after the computer was fully loaded up.

The commotion around the arena echoed behind him as he loaded up Hunter versus Hunter. Canary checked her watch then and said, “Well, if that’s all, then I’ll be off. Killua should be getting in soon with the others.”

“Okay,” Gon said.

“And Gon?” she said. Gon twisted around, a hand clasped to the back of his chair. She smiled sweetly at him. “Do your best, okay? I’ll expect nothing less from you.”

Gon nodded firmly and watched as Killua’s agent strode off to the plexiglass door. She stepped behind it and gave a little wave before climbing the stairs to the convention center’s main lobby once more. Likewise, Gon hopped into his own library for the first time that week, feeling less and less like his bright-eyed, bushy-tailed self as he studied the 99+ at the top corner of the screen before clicking into a singles match.

It felt like he was on autopilot for all of the game. He delved into that zombie-like state he and Knuckle played in for hours just trying to get Gon at a decent building level. Now, it was all second-nature. In his first fight of the match, he flew up to the sky without a second thought and nailed his opponent in the back on his descent. His controls went wild—his camera motions were crazier than before, harder to follow than before, but more precise than before. Every jerk of the camera sent a floor out below him, walls around him, and another bullet blocked.

He was simply training himself to respond to opponents after spending so long in sandbox mode with Knuckle as his only opponent. They only played an hour of duos midway through training so that Knuckle could decide what Gon was having trouble with when faced with real life opponents. Knuckle wasn’t by any means the best of the best, but he had a match kill record of 25—impressive for any Hunter—as compared to KILLU’s solo match kill record of 28.

Killua had the reputation of a building master. He could build up, tear down, and edit like there were records to break and he was about to annihilate all of them. It was the key to the game that Gon never bothered with, and he realized now that he could only get so far on offensive. He needed to build—he needed defense—and Knuckle gave him that.

“The key is to land in populated areas, which you’ve already got down,” Knuckle had said in reference to Gon’s tendency to migrate towards the Palace. It had, debatably, the best loot on the map and therefore tended to be the spot all the players spawned in. “You collect loot and tear down the furniture in the rooms. Try to avoid tearing down walls until after you’ve cleared out an area. The furniture will get you enough materials to build yourself out of any situation at the start of a match.”

Gon took his advice and picked off ten kills in his first match, clearing the Palace on his way through. He gathered loot, like Knuckle said, and took it with him to the forests where he gathered materials to build himself a fortress if need be.

He didn’t realize that people were watching him until he thought to look at his viewers on screen. After every kill his victims were redirected to his camera where they would make the decision to either stay and watch the rest of the match, or go back to their own lobbies to start again. There were two viewers on his screen. At this point, he thought to look behind him and was startled to find two guys standing there with their arms crossed, watching from over his shoulder.

Gon blink owlishly at them. His eyes felt dry from staring at the screen all night, and he was back into zombie mode.

The two strangers stared back at him. They were wearing florescent pink jerseys and Gon realized then that he was very much on his own. All of these players had teams, fans, followings. All Gon had was KILLU merch and a shaky foundation for AssassiNation friendship.

The tall, skinny guy put a hand on his cocked hip and said, “You’re Freakss, aren’t you?”

Gon stared at them and said, “Uh, yeah, I guess?”

It was impossible to pause a live HvsH match, so he let it play on as the guy reached a hand out to him. He gave it a firm shake as the guy smiled wide. It reminded Gon of Ikalgo’s serial killer smile and he wondered if all Hunters had such creepy, maniacal grins.

“Nice to meet you. Hisoka Morow—seems we’re neighbors.”

The name sounded vaguely familiar for reasons unbeknownst to Gon. Perhaps he had seen Hisoka’s name in passing next to his desk, but then again, everyone’s desks were marked by their gamertags. “What’s your gamertag?” Gon asked.

“Penniwise. And this is Machi, better known as MochiCakes.”

Gon gasped. The girl had pink hair like that of Palm’s pink shag carpet. The girl rose an eyebrow at him as Gon put a hand to his mouth and said, “Oh, God, sorry. It’s just—My friend really wanted to meet you yesterday at the kickoff party.”

“I didn’t go to the party,” she said, voice bland and disinterested.

Gon sighed in relief. “Good. I mean, sad that you weren’t there, but good because we also weren’t there.”

“We?” Hisoka said, head tipped to the side.

“Zushi and Alluka,” he said. “Alluka is—”

“KILLU’s baby sister,” Machi finished with a roll of her eyes. “Yes, we all know. Special you.”

“I know! She’s so nice,” Gon said. “So you’ve met her?! When?”

“No, I haven’t met her,” Machi said, borderline disgusted. She put a hand up to her ponytail and flicked it with a sigh. “When all anyone talks about is you and KILLU that sort of information just weasels its way in.”

“I thought you played World of Warcraft. Are you in this tournament?” Gon asked.

“Yes, I’m in this tournament,” she said.

Hisoka leant over and said, “People can play more than one game, Freakss.”

Gon narrowed his eyes at them. His hands itched at the teasing way they spoke to him, like he wanted to do something out of his mind. Like he wanted to react like Killua would—with curses, with violence. He wanted to fucking play.

“Speaking of games,” he said, lowly, as he turned back around to face his monitor, “I have a match to get back to.”

He pulled his headset back on and settled in to take over the map with Hisoka and Machi watching from behind. His audience only grew as the clock ticked closer and closer to game time. He could hear them talking, filling the arena with a constant murmur of incomprehensible words beyond the gunshots in his ears and the explosions tearing through the walls of his tower at the center of the circle.

He flew from the edge of the tower and clicked rapidly, posting wooden beams along the edge of a tree and running along them, building the walkway ahead of him as it dismantled behind him. He jumped to avoid a headshot and took twenty damage instead, which allotted him enough air to hop up a level and spin with his heavy sniper rifle in hand. He may have been a newbie, but now he learned from the best. He was going to be just as great as the best. He thought of Killua’s frustration when he took that trickshot, so Gon made a point to no-scope the 360 degree trickshot and nailed his target where they stood at the edge of the tree—half covered. People would call that luck if Gon’s eyes weren’t sharp enough to pin the guy from 250 meters away.

The winning sequence ran as he flung off his headset and let out a breath of relief. His kill count ended at a total of 25.

He was officially, at the very least, on Knuckle’s level.

As Gon’s character at last touched the ground, he turned around and found half a dozen people watching from over the upper level desk wall and the space behind his row of desks. His eyes landed on familiar faces first—Hisoka and Machi and, at the edge of the crowd, Killua.

“Caillou!” Gon shrieked, flinging himself away from the desk. He staggered as his hip caught on the armrest.

As he skidded across the gap that opened up through the crowd, he heard people murmur, “Oh, shit, that was the newbie?” “He’s in this tournament?” “Shit, that’s the newbie who plays with KILLU—” He ignored them in favor of chasing Killua down.

Killua turned on his heels, away from the scene, and started to walk to the steps leading to the middle section of the court. His hands were in his pockets when Gon grabbed Killua by the wrist to hold him back.

Killua turned back sharply, shaking his hand away from Gon’s. Gon held on fast to the hem of Killua’s jersey—that tight, sleek fabric that hugged him in all the right places in reds and blacks. Canary’s voice was in his head as he blurted out, “I’m gonna fight you.”

Killua’s eye twitched. “Excuse me?”

Gon closed his eyes. That didn’t come out right. He shook his head a little before saying, “I-I mean—I’m gonna do my best, so you better do the same. We have to fight each other in this match. Okay? Don’t die until we meet up.”

“I’m not going to die,” Killua said. Killua held up his arm, the one Gon had a tight hold on. He grabbed Gon by the wrist and shoved his arm away. Gon let his hand fall limply to his side as Killua said, “Quit talking to me. We aren’t friends. I don’t even know you.”

Killua gave him one last final look if distaste before taking the steps down to the final level. A few steps later, he turned around and had the taste of Killua on his lips not been so vividly tangible, Gon would have fully believed that Killua hadn’t once laid eyes on him before and that Gon had just completely infiltrated a stranger’s personal bubble. Gon’s jaw dropped at the look Killua gave him before Killua turned back around with a shake of his head and marched off for his desk at the opposite crescent of the circle, far from Gon.

Gon watched after the receding image of Killua. He could see Killua’s gamertag printed in bold san serif on the back of his red and black AssassiNation jersey. He felt off kilter wearing KILLU merch after that exchange and he thought to himself: Are we seriously fighting again?

“No!” Gon shouted, stomping down the steps. Someone behind him laughed and someone let out a scandalous, “Ooo!”

Speed walking like a pro, Gon marched around the crescent of gaming stations. His eyes were pinned on Killua and Killua only, so when Killua looked back at him, Gon was ready. He opened his mouth to speak only to hesitate when Killua started running.

“Stop ignoring me!” Gon yelled, running after him.

Killua cupped his hands over his mouth.

“Security!” Killua shouted in the direction of one of the big black buff guys in uniform that looked like Gon’s HvsH avatar. The crowd was now following Gon with their phone cameras out, laughing and shouting at Killua to, “Hear Freakss out, dude!”

“Security, one of my fans jumped the wall!” Killua shouted.

“I’m not—!” Gon shrieked, only to yelp when the security guard actually listened to Killua. Gon frantically went for his VIP card, only to find his hand slapping over the ink of Killua’s logo on his chest. He cursed, attention going back to his desk. “Shit! My VIP card—it came off with my headset!” Gon shrieked.

One of the guys in the crowd cursed and floundered to get the person behind him to get the card. They were all running, then, scrambling in a panic to keep Gon away from the security guard. The guard caught Gon by the arm and Gon frantically held up his name tag for the tournament, but it was no use until one of the participants tossed Gon his VIP card from over the wall. Gon caught it by the lanyard and held it up for the guard to see and compare the names on the cards.

At last, he was released, but by the time the security man scanned his VIP card, Killua was seated at his desk and an event worker was trying to clear out the crowd Gon had gathered in the middle of the court in preparation for the start of the match.

Gon stared at Killua from where he could just barely see Killua’s scowl from the eyes up. Killua narrowed his eyes further, and Gon wrinkled up his nose at Killua. The event staff gestured for Gon to get a move on, at which point, Killua put his middle finger up from over the wall.

Chapter Text

Gon had never felt like this before.

Like he was… two seconds away from imploding like a star into a black hole that consumed any and all forms of aggression. He clenched his fists on either side of Knuckle’s keyboard as the announcers spoke to the audience and event staff made their rounds to ensure they were all synched up to the proper server. Gon only moved when it was his turn to get his computer checked over, at which point he crossed his arms, leant back, and scowled in the direction of Killua’s desk. They couldn’t see one another, but all it would take to see Killua would be for Gon to stand and make eye contact.

He wondered if he could do that without screaming, “LOOK AT ME!” at the top of his lungs. He wasn’t about to make a scene, not until all of this was over.

This was what was making Killua pissy anyway, right? They’d be back to normal after the tournament—whatever constituted “normal”, anyway.

Gon debated his tactic for the start of the match. If he was going to find Killua, he needed to think like Killua. All of their matches together had beens pent at the Palace, except for the few occasions they diverged as per Killua’s suggestion. He did so just to mix things up, and his destinations fluctuated.

If Killua’s gonna be looking for me, he’d go to the Palace anyway, he realized, and so his destination was set in stone long before they were told to start the match.

Gon’s fingers shook over the keyboard. He felt like he had just inhaled an entire can of straight caffeine. He was no longer a zombie—instead, he was a furious ball of energy ready to tear the entire Palace apart in search of Killua’s avatar.

“Take out everybody before they have the chance to equip their weapons,” Knuckle had said, and it was exactly what Gon planned.

He spawned on the roof of the building and at once snagged a bundle of ammunition and a pump action shotgun from the edge of the gutter. He scanned the rooftops and aimed for his first opponent several buildings down. He fired off two shots and eliminated them on the second before moving on to clear out the roof. Someone intentionally jumped from the roof to avoid being hit—without materials, they couldn’t build themselves out of Gon’s range. Soon, everyone at the Palace grounds were scattering. When that was done, he set up shop on the edge of the roof, crouched down and covered on one side by a tower wall and a half wall on the other.

He didn’t have enough ammunition to keep unloading shots like at the start, so he waited until the coast was clear to drop down through the roof at his feet. He gathered materials as he rooted through each room and stocked up on ammunition. All the while, he listened intently through his headphones as the audience and announcers faded into the background, warping into a distant hum as he waited intently for a pair of footsteps, a gunshot, a door closing—anything that might hint to Gon that he wasn’t alone.

Firing off ten shots at the start of the match made him a target, so he moved swiftly to escape the area he spent picking off players. He ducked out through a window and navigated along the long, brick wall guarding the outskirts of the Palace grounds, keeping close to the wall and keeping his eyes forward and back on his way to the armory door.

There was loot beneath the grounds, which meant that, if someone were to escape Gon’s firing range, they’d be aiming for decent weapons to defend themselves with on top of a good hiding spot. He’d find them down there.

Gon may have been a Hunter, but he wasn’t used to the spike of adrenaline he felt when he was on the hunt now, searching between isles of fake storage boxes. The lights in the Palace underground armory were motion-censored, and each row of stacked boxes lit up with a strip of LED lights overhead as he walked by, gun poised. He could feel himself shaking, smile stretching wider as he came closer and closer to the final row.

Come out, come out, wherever you are… he sang in his head. He wondered if Killua was down here, reloading a pistol, waiting for Gon to come to him.

Gon shifted eagerly in his seat, knees pulled up to his chest, eyes wide like a cat on the prowl. His hair was in a fluffed spike around his headphones, and this was the scene that a camera man captured unbeknownst to him that was then projected on the overhanging screens that circled above the court. From the audience, Alluka clapped her hands and pointed frantically to Gon’s face on the screen, beaming at Zushi as she said, “There he is! He’s still alive!”

“As if Gon would die now,” Zushi laughed, reclining back in his seat. He kicked a foot up on the seat in front of him and tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

On the loudspeakers, an announcer was saying, “—Supposedly Freakss started playing just three weeks ago when he was confined to bedrest after a medical incident. There have been some theories suggesting that it was all a ruse to get into a match with KILLU—either that or he’s been using aimbots to improve his shot accuracy. Considering how he’s playing today, we can dispel the rumors here and now that Freakss uses bots.”

“Personally I’m a fan of the theory that he’s a season one veteran. HvH has become a completely different game since, but the mechanics are still there. He easily could have played as a kid and been reintroduced to it.”

“So we can all agree that no first time player could achieve this level of proficiency in just under a month.”

“Yes, that much is a given. I’d love to get him in an interview after this.”

The massive screen behind the announcer stand showed a patchwork of screen captures marked with their designated gamertags in the top left corner. With the arrangement of the desks, players couldn’t view the screen without seriously turning their heads and being accused of cheating. With the number of cameras around on top of event staff standing watch, Gon didn’t bother taking that risk despite how much he desperately wanted to know where Killua was.

The armory was empty all except for one person in the back room. Gon built a flurry of walls and climbed them to the top as his opponent tried to tear through his wall. They ducked behind the wall of boxes as Gon built up to the ceiling and ran along the crates.

Gon left the armory stocked up on goods and enough materials to last him the match. He considered Killua’s other options if he didn’t, in fact, spawn at the Palace.

Greed Island?

No, that’s on the other side of the map—but if he did go there, he did it intentionally to be as far from me as possible…

Gon vowed to close the gap between them if it was the last thing he did.

He tugged up the sleeves on his KILLU merch shirt, feeling heat flush through him as he waited for his med kit to kick in. He wanted to look at the screen so badly just to make sure Killua was still in the match. He wished he was sitting next to Killua instead of Hisoka—he wanted to talk to him just to make sure he knew Gon was coming for his life.

Speaking of Hisoka—

Gon glanced over at Hisoka, only to find the guy already staring at him, leant against his armrest and watching Gon’s screen. Gon blinked, startled, and said, “You died already?”

“Oh, yes,” Hisoka said. “I let you kill me so I could watch.”

“H-How did you—”

“You always land at the Palace,” Hisoka replied.

“Don’t you want to win?” Gon asked.

Hisoka shrugged. “I couldn’t care less about the money. I make enough off of Snapchat,” he said.

An event staff worker walked up to them and said, “No talking during the tournament.”

“Oh, I killed him already, though,” Gon said. The woman stared blankly at him before looking sharply to Hisoka, who gave a useless shrug.

“We won’t discuss the match, pinkie promise,” Hisoka said, raising his pinkie finger up, still leaning far against his armrest. The woman didn’t move. He shifted his hand into a lazy half-shrug. “Babysit us if you like. Would you like me to go into gruesome detail about what I do on Snapchat, perhaps?”

Hisoka offered a slim, cheeky smile to the woman who narrowed her eyes at the both of them. She turned away, but not without giving them the side-eye from near the stairs. Hisoka dropped his hand then and said, “You’d be surprised how much people are willing to pay for access to a premium Snapchat account.”

Gon hummed as he returned his attention back to the screen with Hisoka watching from afar. “How much?”

“Thirty a month.”

Gon’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Wow. It’s subscription based? What for?”

“What for?” Hisoka laughed. He leant back in his seat with a greedy smile and said lewdly, “All sorts of things. Would you like access to it? I’d give you a discount.”

“I think I’ll pass…” Gon hummed, squinting as a shot was fired at him from afar. He just barely missed getting nicked in the ass with it, and soon he was building up and ducking out of view. When he peaked out, someone aimed for his head and nearly got him. He gritted his teeth in concentration, saying, “I have enough stuff to pay for as it is. College student and all that.”

“Ah, yes, all that,” Hisoka agreed with an amused lilt to his voice. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. I believe I still follow you on Twitter.”

“Really?” Gon said.

“Before you privatized your account, that is.”

“Ah,” he said.

And then, out of the corner of the screen, he spotted a shiny black speck on the horizon. Shiny… like black leather. “That’s him!” Gon shrieked, leaping in his seat. He charged forward, making a beeline for the Catwoman skin taking heavy fire from one of the towns up ahead. Gon watched from afar as a building battle took place and covered the gap in the treelike with brick and wood walls manipulated with the expertise of someone who had been doing this shit for years. Gon couldn’t deny the fact that he had marveled at the speed of Killua’s builds and how swiftly he could maneuver around Gon’s shots just with mats and a plethora of curses.

Gon didn’t bother jumping into the fight until after an explosion of loot erupted from the top of the build. Catwoman soared down from the top, leaping from plank to plank before at last coming to the loot on the ground—

—Facing Gon.

They stared at one another.

That has to be Killua, Gon thought, but at the same time be doubted himself. Maybe it isn’t Killua—anyone could have that skin, right?

“That’s a season four skin,” Hisoka said from behind Gon.

“What does that mean?” Gon asked.

“Only people from season four could have gotten that skin. It’s also limited edition—they only released it for some event that was going on at the time.”

The Catwoman skin shifted to the side. Gon jolted, spamming the wall button and climbing up a step, poised just a hair out of the Catwoman’s range. That split second was enough for them both to build up three walls and a ramp—the exact same defensive position. They stared at one another from over the ledge.

“Uh-oh,” the announcer said. “Looks like Freakss has found a Catwoman skin—KILLU’s go-to skin of this season. There’s approximately thirty players here from season four, but I’d reckon only about twenty of them purchased that skin.”

“I don’t see a reason why anyone would purposefully steal KILLU’s look just to trick Freakss,” another announcer said. “But it’s strictly against the nature of solos tournaments to work together. From that most recent video, it doesn’t sound like KILLU’s spoken to Freakss since participating in squads with Freakss, Ikalgo, and Pika.”

“I find it hard to believe that Freakss could have learned to build like that without their help.”

An alert sounded in the corner of Gon’s screen.

The circle was closing in, far from where they were standing.

Shit, he thought. His fights with Killua tended to take ages since Killua defensive tactics were far superior to Gon’s. He had taken the initiative in the past to tear down Killua’s walls to bring him back to ground level, knowing full well that demolishing Killua’s builds pissed him off almost as much as Gon’s ability to take him out with an impeccably aimed headshot.

They didn’t have time for the most epic build battle of the century.

Gon abandoned his post, jumped over the side wall, and started running for the circle. They could fight one-on-one when everyone else was taken care of.

Gon’s next 1v1 was with none other than Knuckle sporting his buff, bald body-builder skin wearing nothing but a plaid pair of overalls and a blonde, curly mustache. Gon gasped at the sight of him and distantly, over the chaos in the court, he heard Knuckle’s voice screaming, “MY BOY! FIGHT ME!”

Gon giggled and shouted back, “OKAY!” at which point Knuckle jumped from the roof of a building and hit the ground running. Gon ran to meet him halfway, building his ramp up as he went. They had spent all that morning in this mode, and it seemed fitting to end it with a ramp battle in which they kept building until one of their ramps surpassed the other—first to shoot down the other after that point, wins.

At the peak of Gon’s ramp, he fired at Knuckle, who deflected with a wall and built himself up onto a precipice. Gon swapped weapons to a grenade launcher that annihilated the base of Knuckle’s tower. When its connection to the ramp broke, Knuckle was a goner. As he fell, though, he took thirty damage off of Gon’s health before he hit the ground and exploded into a puddle of loot.

Gon jumped down from his precipice, careful to ease his descent with sporadic platforms. Among the loot, he spotted a minigun—the bane of Killua’s existence. He wondered if Knuckle knew, and if Knuckle was fully aware that whoever won this build battle would make it to the end to fight Killua. Gon took the minigun, whispering, “It was nice knowing you, senpai,” before moving on.

The circle was closing in rapidly now.

Gon could see the opposite end of its diameter from his position near the edge. He needed to gain ground, but doing so would alert the two fighting opponents across the way. It was just the three of them. Gon would eventually need to break in—or shoot from here and feel the injustice of such a snipe. He wanted to face his opponent head-on, not while they were distracted fighting another person.

Gon began to build himself up. He laid down a tower in the cover of a nearby tree just when the circle began to close again, pulling over the fight across the way and leading towards Gon’s position. He watched as someone fell from the precipice in the sky and splattered into a dozen pieces of loot.

Distantly, he could hear Killua screaming, “FUCK THAT WAS MY KILL! Why’d you have to go and fall to your death?!”

Gon was so startled to hear the scream that he let out a nervous giggle. He hadn’t realized he’d been facing Killua’s Catwoman skin until that moment. They were still too far from one another to see the details of each others costumes, but now he could see it—the long white hair and shining black uniform. He was shaking, vibrating with anticipation as Killua equipped a—

—Rocket launcher.

“Oh, frick,” Gon said, already leaping from his tower. He equipped a hang glider, letting gravity pull him down and curve towards where Killua stood in the midst of his victim’s loot pile. Gon’s tower exploded behind him as he landed on one of the ledges of Killua’s build. He jumped up and laid down ramp after ramp, building himself up to deflect the array of bullets that tore through the walls of the structure.

Gon built over Killua and edited the last piece of land to create a break just to aim at Killua. The second he did, though, Killua was back on defense.

They built around one another with their resources dwindling fast. Gon went through a thousand planks of wood in under two minutes just to avoid the proximity Killua was trying to close between them. Gon ducked down, editing through walls left-and-right until he encountered builds from Killua that were unfazed by Gon’s attempts to break through. He built walls around himself and quickly downed a health potion—he was down from Killua’s grenade launcher attacks, and it’d only get worse from here.

He knew Killua had a habit of using unavoidable shots—explosives, attacks that had a wide splash zone. He’d attack with grenades, rocket launchers, anything that could send Gon flying. It certainly didn’t help that Killua had the entire match to stock up on equipment. Killua had everything he needed: Ammunition, the weapons, and Gon—right where he needed him.

But that was what made it so exciting.

The circle closed in again, engulfing the cusp of their build battle grounds and leaving Gon suspended in the air with the base of the structure out in the Red Zone hellfire. A jump from this height would take damage, definitely.

Killua was on the structure with him, though—he wouldn’t sacrifice the entire structure with a barrage of explosives.

Now I have him right where I want him, Gon thought as red spiraled around the structure, sizzling against the brick and wood where their build battle overlapped the edge of the circle. Gon equipped a minigun knowing just how much Killua hated them.

“OH FUCK YOU!” Killua screamed from across the court as Gon lit up the place.

Gon laughed maliciously as he followed the arc Killua took lunging from one plank to another and flinging up walls as he went to deflect the incessant attacks from Gon. Beyond his headphones, Heaven’s Arena was filled with screaming, clapping, and the roar of incomprehensible shouting. Gon felt it all pulsing through him, tightening in his chest and twisting his insides into a bow of perfect, incomparable fervor.

He almost lost it when Killua edited a window through a full wooden wall just to snipe him for half his health. Gon leapt in his seat, throwing up barriers and ramps to protect himself. He hadn’t expected the shot to come out of the wall, let alone so soon after Gon cornered him. He could practically hear Killua in his head said saying, “Not so tough now, huh, Freakss? Gotta keep ya on your toes.”

Two can play at that game, Gon thought as he prepared to edit out a gap in the wall.

He waited for the second it took for Killua’s head to appear at the top of the build. Gon’s fingers flew over the keyboard, opening the wall, poising his gun, and aiming for Killua’s head.

The shot hit with a chime and the Catwoman skin disintegrated.

The roaring audience broke through Gon’s headset as he stared, wide-eyed, at the screen. His hand was sweaty on the mouse as he dropped it and slid back, head swimming. He pushed the headset off as he stared at the 22-kill score he got—not his best, but considering his competition, he didn’t expect more than twenty.

Gon pushed away from the desk and rose to his feet, fully aware of the camera in his face as he tugged his sleeves higher past his elbows. All of the attention pushed heat to his face and turned him red in the face before he could stop it. He smiled weakly at the lens as he passed, pushing around gamer chairs pulled out from their spots, the players staring at Gon as he walked to the stairs at a brisk pace to avoid the camera following him on his descent to the center of the court.

He crossed center court without hesitating. He looked up at the massive screen displaying his face alongside the winning screen. Killua was nowhere to be seen on screen despite having spent the past five minutes battling it out with Gon.

Over the crescent wall, Gon could see Killua standing there with his arms over his head, his back to the screen and his attention far from where Gon was now speed-walking to catch up with him. He barely made it to the steps leading up to Killua’s row when a microphone was shoved in his face and he was cornered up against the camera that had been following him this entire time.

“Freakss! Tell us—Is it true an AssassiNation representative got your into this tournament?” the woman said, eyes bright and eager for a reply.

Gon stammered and he could feel his breath off of the microphone canvas. He squinted at the light flashing on him from over the camera lens as the man now stood directly in front of him, pushed up alongside the spokesperson holding the mic out. She beamed wide as Gon nodded wordlessly.

“Will you become an Assassin now after winning the tournament? Are you considering joining any team now that you’re a professional?” she asked, sticking the mic closer.

“N-No, I’m not a professional,” Gon stammered, stepping back from the microphone. He looked out at everyone watching him, at his face projected on the screen, the echo of his voice on the speakers. A nervous laugh escaped him as he rubbed the back of his head and said, “I’m just… here for fun, I guess?”

“You guess?” the woman said. “But you’ve won a tournament filled with professional participants.”

“I know, and I had a lot of fun—”

“Would you ever consider being one of them? I’m sure streaming would go well for you.”

“I don’t—That isn’t my kind of gig, necessarily…” he confessed with a weak smile. He felt his heart throbbing in his throat as he swallowed hard and added, “Everyone else in the tournament is better equipped for it. I don’t think I could ever stream—I wouldn’t want to. I like watching people stream.”

“Who in particular?”

“KILLU, mostly,” he said.

“How does it feel to beat your streaming idol?”

“Idol?” Gon giggled. “I-I only just started watching him three weeks ago—”

“But how long have you known his sister?”

“A-A year, but—”

“So did you and KILLU discuss the match ahead of time? We noticed that you and KILLU ran into each other—why not end the match then?”

Gon frowned at her. He himself didn’t quite know how to explain it. How could he possibly give words to the logic behind their stare-down when the first circle started to close in? How could he have explained how unsatisfying that fight would have been, had they engaged in battle then? How could he explain the justice he wanted to give Killua after their fight in the kitchen? He wanted Killua to face him like… like he wasn’t a professional. He wanted Killua to have fun fighting him and give his all in the match.

He wanted them both to have fun. It didn’t have to be a job for them. But how could he tell that to a complete stranger?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a head of white hair moving towards them. The woman noticed as well, and Gon’s heart skidded to a firm stop when he realized that he wasn’t going crazy and that Killua was actually walking towards them looking pissed as all Hell.

For an instant, Gon thought he did something wrong. But no—Killua would have been pissed if he half-assed the tournament. Killua had to understand that Gon didn’t want to win, but he wasn’t about to give up at the first sign of trouble in their fight in the final ring of the circle. He had to understand, right?

“Killua—” Gon started.

Killua ignored him in favor of pinning the camera with a scowl and shoving his hand over the lens. The guy stepped back instantly, lowering the lens in fear of Killua incinerating it with his white-hot fury. Killua pegged the woman with a scowl and said, voice echoing on the speakers, “Quit trying to make Freakss talk in circles. Fun or not he’s fucking better than all of us so unless he decides he’s a professional, he has nothing to say to you. This isn’t a team publicity stunt.”

“But AssassiNation brought him here—”

“Yeah, not expecting him to win the damn tournament because management underestimated him,” Killua said. “I’d like to apologize in advance, but we all know that three hundred woulda gone to me anyway so—”

At that, a roar sounded around the desks. Gon startled, his gasp caught in his throat at the sight of Killua’s provoking smirk as he threw his arms up at the gamers willing to fight him for that ballsy suggestion. Gon would have laughed at the look of damnation on Ikalgo’s face in that first row of the crescent. He would have laughed his ass off—he really would have.

If someone hadn’t stabbed him in the back.

Gon sucked in a deep breath.

The knife was wedged deep in the back of his shoulder blade. He bent forward, the curse on the tip of his tongue falling short. Nothing, absolutely nothing could express the agony ripping through his chest like the Lorax was squeezing the goddamn life out of him.

The announcer put the mic down and bent towards Gon, murmuring, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Gon ducked forward, a hand on his knee. The rock in his chest was now growing in size, crushing his lung and expanding his ribcage with each breath. “I-I can’t—” he started, wheezing out a pained sob. “Fuck—”

He could only stare at the ground as he saw Killua’s designer-brand sneakers step towards him. He felt a hand on his back then, Killua speaking over him asking, “Dude, what happened? Are you okay?”

The pressure in his chest was too much. It felt like his chest cavity was filling with blood and weighing him down—he needed to lie down. He started to gracelessly collapse to the ground, at which point Killua said, “Call for an ambulance!”

“N-No—call for an Uber,” Gon rasped.

“You have three hundred fucking dollars, dude,” Killua said.

Gon flopped onto his back with a grunt, staring, dazed, at the screens overhead. “I don’t care,” he said. “I’ll survive—I just—need a car.”

The spokeswoman was still there, crouched beside Gon when Canary came jogging up with Zushi and Alluka in tow. Soon, Zushi was leaning into Gon’s view next to Killua’s face and the light haloed around them both like some fucking Michelangelo ceiling canvas mural. “Dude you fucking did it—You popped another lung,” Zushi said.

Gon reached a hand up and slapped it on Zushi’s cheek. “Is this Heaven?”

“Nah, dude, this is a bed of concrete in a room full of nerds,” Zushi said.

“Amazing,” Gon sighed, grimacing at the aggressive, ripping ache in his chest.

He turned to the side with a groan as he heard Canary fighting with Alluka, saying, “We’ll call for an ambulance,” to which Alluka snapped, “Gon asked for a fucking Uber, so if you aren’t driving I’ll get an actual Uber to beat the ambulance here. I’ll put it in the notes, I’ll say, ‘I’ll tip you a hundred dollars extra if you beat the ambulance here, dammit.’”

Gon stopped at his knees. It felt like someone had his ribs in a snakebite and were twisting them to see which one would pop off first. “Jesus Christ Almighty,” he panted, “Heavens to Betsy.”

“Dude, I’ve got you,” Zushi said, putting an arm around Gon’s back.

“What the fuck’s wrong with him?” Killua said, sounding mildly panicked at the sight of Gon cursing as Zushi straightened him up.

“The Lorax stabbed me in the back,” Gon said.

“What the fuck does that mean,” Killua said.

“His lung collapsed,” Zushi translated.

Gon took one step and seethed through clenched teeth, “I’m gonna punt the Lorax to Timbuktu, I swear to God.”

As they walked, event staff cleared the stairs and both Zushi and Killua helped Gon up the stairs. It was slow-going, but with both of them on either side of him, he barely needed to put any weight on his feet and, likewise, pressure on his chest cavity. He felt like the gravity on earth increased tenfold and was bound to crush his bones into a powdery pulp, and the entire walk from the arena to the parking garage was left in a foggy barrage of colorful, mediocre cursing.

Killua had his phone out and passed it to Alluka, who walked slightly ahead of them. “The Uber’s almost here,” Killua said. “They’re meeting us out back.”

“I swear to God if you ordered us an Uber Pool,” Alluka threatened.

“I’m not cheap, Alluka, I’m classy,” Killua retorted.

“Do you want me to call your Aunt?” Zushi asked Gon, who groaned in agony at the thought. She had just been in LA—he didn’t want her to drive all the way back only for him to have to explain that he wasn’t in LA. In fact, he was in San Francisco at an actual hospital instead of the university clinic.

“Fuck,” Gon huffed, tipping his head back. He slumped against Zushi’s side and said, “We need to take the Uber—to LA—and go to the university clinic.”

“I’m not paying for that,” Killua said. “We’re going to UCSF and you aren’t gonna fucking fight me on this, all right?”

“My Aunt doesn’t know I’m here—” Gon said.

“I’ll explain everything to her,” Zushi insisted. “She loves me. She can’t kill me over this.”

There was some commotion at the other end of the parking garage. The four of them halted on their walk to the back of the building. Alluka had her bag on her and from it she produced Killua’s hoodie. Killua put it on and tugged the hood up over his hair so when they emerged onto the street, he wasn’t distinguishable by his head of bleached hair. His murderous scowl, though, said otherwise so he kept his attention on the road and their small group lingering at the curb for their ride.

As they were waiting, someone shouted from the garage entrance. Killua cursed, putting a hand up to block his face from view. “Where’s the fucking ride?” Killua hissed at Alluka.

She was tapping on his phone screen and saying, “It’s almost here—It’s just a block away. Gon, quick, act like you’re not dying.”

Gon felt like screaming as he straightened his shoulders. Zushi put his arm around Gon’s shoulders, lightly, so as not to put weight on Gon’s expanded chest cavity. Alluka tossed her hair back, applied a beanie, and pretended to look like a Valley Girl with her phone raised delicately in one hand and one foot tipped out like she was posing for a camera. Gon would have laughed and, thankfully, Zushi did it for him.

“You look like an A-Class bitch,” he said.

Alluka gave a sassy shrug and said, “What of it, big boy.”

“I’m about to vomit on all of you,” Killua seethed as Zushi turned away, laughing in horror, “Oh my God.”

A horde of people ran past them. Alluka leant over to make sure they had successfully escaped the Meta crowd just as a sketchy white van flew up in front of them. Since it matched the description on Killua’s app, they hopped in the back and Gon collapsed in the backseat, tears at the corners of his eyes as he all but sobbed, “Oh, fuck—” as Killua made sure the GPS had UCSF as their destination.

Before Alluka could shut the door, though, it flew open again. Alluka screamed only to gasp in relief when she came face-to-face with Ikalgo leaning in. “Room for four more?”

“Absolutely-fucking-not,” Killua said, but Ikalgo was already hopping into the backseat where Gon was sitting with Zushi. Knuckle clamored in after him, shaking the entire van with his heavy footsteps as he claimed one of the bucket seats. Palm took shotgun while Kurapika sat their ass on Knuckle’s lap and called it a day.

Palm reached for the ID card pasted on the dashboard and said, “What’s your name, Mr. Driver, Sir?”

The van doors all slammed shut and they rolled out onto the street as the driver said, “Leorio.”

Alluka leant over the center console. “Well, Leorio, I hope you know how to step on it because our buddy here is dying of a collapsed lung,” she said over the sound of a hacking cough wracking through Gon’s torso. His head throbbed when it was over.

“My weekday job involves driving ambulances, so this should be a piece of cake,” Leorio the driver said.

Killua twisted around in his seat to look back at where Gon was trying not to cry, but he might as well have had a balloon being inflated in his chest and it’d give the same effect. “You never mentioned that your medical emergency was a collapsed lung,” Killua said.

“It—didn’t seem—relevant,” Gon gasped, his breath failing him at the end as he bent forward over his knees. He cursed, a hand clutching at the edge of the seat in front of him as Zushi rubbed his back and offered again to call his Aunt. Gon couldn’t deny how much he wished Aunt Mito-san were there the first time around, and he had been so horrified at the prospect of it happening again that he never considered that it would happen so soon after. He wasn’t alone for either medical incidences, and now, it didn’t seem likely that Aunt Mito-san would fit into the chaos in that van. Having her on the phone would just complicate things.

He shook his head, his forehead pressed to his forearm. He didn’t want Aunt Mito-san to worry. He’d worry about worrying her after he was checked into the hospital.

The tires on the van squealed up to the front of the hospital. Gon jolted forward at the harsh break and looked up as Ikalgo cleared the way for Gon to get through, opening the door and holding a hand out for him to clutch onto. Gon staggered onto the concrete, his insides ripping at the sensation. He was gritting his teeth so hard his jaw all but locked in place, aching in his ears as Alluka and Palm ran off to get a wheelchair.

“Dude, we’re here—it’s gonna be okay,” Zushi said.

Gon didn’t realize he was even breathing until Zushi said that, and when he realized it, he caught himself hyperventilating—if… he could even hyperventilate at that moment. “I-I don’t want an-nother chest tube,” Gon sobbed out a cough. The dry cough wheezed out of him, shaking his entire body with it.

“Shit, dude, you’re gonna make me cry,” Ikalgo said, voice strained.

Gon rubbed his hands over his eyes as Alluka came running out with a nurse on her heels. His palms came back wet with tears as Alluka said, “Palm’s telling the front desk what’s up—now get in the damn chair and get better, okay?”

With that, Gon collapsed into the wheelchair and was left to the whim of the nurse guiding him into the building and off to a room he’d rather not detail. It was all very reminiscent of the first time, only, more horrifying than the first. He preferred the shock value to be after the fact, but now, he anticipated all the terrors that came with having an incision put beneath his arm and a tube sucked into his chest cavity. He remembered how it felt to have a thick, long worm sticking out of his torso, the tension of a needle in his arm for his IV, and the oxygen nubs drying out his nostrils.

He felt woozy on pain meds and copious amounts of drugs. He stared at the ceiling, his side patched up with a bandages and the tube capsule still taped to it. The tight, searing agony in his chest was gone, but it left him feeling shaky and numb as he watched Zushi’s familiar face appear out of the corner of his vision. He blinked rapidly to ensure that it was, in fact, Zushi he was seeing.

Zushi smiled at him, his hands clasped on the railing of Gon’s hospital bed. “Hey, bud, how’re you feeling?” Zushi asked.

“Like cotton,” Gon replied.

“Is that good?”

“It’s… a thing,” Gon said, licking his lips. He looked away, coughing a little. “Definitely a thing. There’s a—There’s a worm in my chest.”

Zushi grimaced and said, “Yeah, buddy, there is.”

“Does it look cute?” Gon said. He couldn’t lift his arm to see it without wanting to shriek for some unknown reason. He couldn’t feel pain, but some part of him still knew when to scream.

Zushi eyed the tube warily before saying, “Yeah, it’s looking cute.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, very sure.”

“Okay, good,” Gon hummed, relaxing back against the pillows.

“We weaseled your insurance card out of your wallet,” Zushi said. “I also used five bucks to get a gatorade from the vending machine.”

“I’m glad you’re eating healthy,” Gon slurred with a slow smile. He giggled a little when Zushi smiled, only to break off coughing a minute later. “You can have all of the gatorade, sweet Zushi Roll. All of it.”

Zushi laughed. “Cool. So I can take your debit card?”

“Abso-lutely,” Gon said.

Gon reached for Zushi, the cord plugged into his wrist flopping with him. Zushi touched his hand to Gon’s and Gon grabbed hold, firmly, and tugged Zushi’s hand over. Zushi resisted, just a little, saying, “What’re you—What’re you doing—”

“Kiss it,” Gon said, trying to lean over to kiss Zushi’s hand.

“What, dude—” Zushi laughed as Gon smacked his lips on Zushi’s knuckles. “Dude, you sound like an asthmatic chainsmoker. What’re you doing kissing my hand?”

“Those two things—no correlation,” Gon said, giving Zushi’s hand a soft pat before leaning back on his pillow.

“Will you be okay here if I leave for the night?” he asked. Gon pouted, about to whine, but then he thought to look at the clock on the wall. He couldn’t really read it without having to start all over again. “It’s almost seven. Canary offered me a ride back to the hotel.”

“Oh,” Gon hummed, still pouting. He rubbed his fingers over the sheets and scratched at his thigh, irritated that he felt like a kid again. He felt like, if Zushi left, he’d be subjected to all the ghosts and monsters in the room in the form of needles and chest tubes. They wouldn’t come out if Zushi was there. “Can you stay here until I go to sleep?” Gon whispered.

“Yeah, sure,” Zushi said.

He pulled up a chair beside Gon’s hospital bed. He let Gon hold onto his hand through the gaps in the bed railing as he stared at the window peering out to the hallway, several paces behind where Zushi faced him, a knee pulled up to his chest, and his phone in his hand. He was comfortable being left like this, so he let himself drift off to sleep so that Zushi wouldn’t have to wait much longer on him.

Chapter Text

According to the clock, only an hour went by since Gon fell asleep holding Zushi’s hand. He awoke with a groan, a hand going instinctively to his side where he was plugged in like a goddamn vacuum hose. A shudder rippled through him at the very solid tube in his side. It felt massive but in reality, he knew it wasn’t all that monstrous of a thing. It really was just a worm—a worm that beeped.

He dropped his hand with a sigh, glancing at the heart monitor as it softly blinked to the rhythm of his heart. It was then that he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. He looked and found someone sitting next to him, spoon scraping against the plastic wall of a pudding cup. Gon stared at it before looking up and realizing that none other than Killua Zoldyck was sitting there, watching him as he slapped a spoonful of chocolate pudding onto his tongue.

“‘Sup nerd,” Killua said.

Gon sucked in a deep breath and coughed a little, reaching for the button that would elevate him a touch more. He was already elevated by pillows to help airflow, but he didn’t want to be lying down while facing Killua.

“What’re you—Why’re you here?” Gon rasped.

Killua had a leg kicked up over the armrest, the other knee lolled to the side. He paused, spoon in his mouth, before popping it out like a lolly. “Why not?” he said.

“But—But MetaCon—”

“Meta’s done for today,” Killua said. “If I’m gonna lie awake all night I might as well do it here.”

As Killua reached down to pick something up off of the ground, Gon smiled drunkenly and slurred, “Aw, worried about me?”

“No, you fuckwad, I have insomnia,” Killua said. He flung something onto Gon’s lap and followed it up with a plastic spoon. Gon marveled at the pudding cup in his lap before turning his wide-eyed stare onto Killua. Killua’s attention was back to the chocolate pudding, polishing off the sides of the container as he said, “Came in a pack with vanilla. I fucking hate vanilla.”

“Oh. Thank you, Killua,” Gon hummed. He felt weird saying Killua’s name, but he said it anyway with a lazy smile, head tipped against the pillows. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, which he supposed only felt weird because there was a tube curled up in his chest like a snake.

He didn’t feel like he could use both of his arms at the same time so he held the pudding cup out to Killua to open. Killua stared at it before cursing and ripping the film top off. Gon thanked him again before digging in with the spoon. It tasted like heaven on his tongue and he moaned in delight, only to cough a second later. He muffled it against his shoulder but the oxygen nubs got in the way.

When he recovered, Killua huffed, “Jesus, you should like shit. Are you sure you’re supposed to be coughing?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Gon said. “As long as I’m not coughing up blood.”

“Oh, good.”

Gon swallowed down another mouthful of cool, sugary goodness. He hummed in appreciation as Killua left to toss out his empty cup. When he returned, he pulled the chair closer and leant his elbow against the nightstand, watching as Gon polished off the pudding cup. Gon licked the spoon clean before sticking it in the empty cup and setting it aside. When that was done, he met Killua’s eyes and smiled drunkenly again.

“Hi,” Gon said.

Killua narrowed his eyes. “Don’t ‘hi’ me,” he said. Gon frowned as Killua sat back, arms crossed, and said, “You’re cheating, aren’t you?”

Gon blinked, startled. Something pricked him in his chest at the mere thought of it. “I’ve never cheated in Hunter versus Hunter.”

Killua rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about the fucking game, dude. I’m talking about Zushi.”

Gon stared at him for a solid minute. His mind couldn’t compute the dots Killua was making, and therefore, he couldn’t draw the line. Cheating? Zushi? Gon never even cut corners on their runs—back when he could run.

“I don’t understand,” Gon said, quietly.

“Fucking A—” Killua huffed, leaning forward in his seat. “We had sex, Gon, and Zushi was right downstairs. I didn’t think you two were dating, but now—”

“Dating?” Gon said. “We aren’t—No, Zushi’s my roommate. He’s straight, Killua.”

Killua stared at him, his eyes just as wide as when Gon told him that Canary was the reason he was even in San Francisco. Killua had his elbows on his knees and, after a moment, he put his head down, his hands over his eyes. Gon gasped, coughing, when he realized what Killua must have thought of him.

“Oh my God—I would never cheat! I don’t even like cheating in card games!” Gon cried, exasperated. He put a hand to his face, his IV cord flopping over his hospital gown. “Oh, God, Killua—You must have thought—”

“I thought you were an absolutely freak, that’s what I thought. You literally fell asleep to Zushi holding your fucking hand.”

“I’m high! And how do you know that!”

Killua pointed across the room to where the sink sat next to the bathroom door and, beside that, was a bench. “I was literally sitting right there. I was right over there, Gon, you didn’t even know it because you were fucked out of your mind and making lovey-dovey eyes at your fucking straight roommate.”

Gon jabbed a finger at his own chest and did so with every enunciated, slurred word. “I. Love. Zushi. Don’t talk about him like that.”

“Like what?! I didn’t even insult him. You want me to insult him now, is that it?”

“I’ll mess you up, Caillou,” Gon said. It was both a threat and a promise.

“You’re basically on life support, dude, you couldn’t mess me up even if you tried.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Gon opened his mouth to say something lewd and suggestive—it was all right there on the tip of his tongue—only to end up coughing some more. He turned away, burying the cough in the crook of his elbow. Even if he wasn’t sick, he was high on meds and convinced that he was contagious. He wouldn’t contaminate Killua—the last thing he wanted was for someone he cared about having to go through this whole endeavor.

He slumped when the coughing fit was over. Eventually, he stared at the ceiling and breathed, “You thought I was dating Zushi and that I cheated on him while he was right there.”

He looked over at Killua to confirm that he was not, in fact, hallucinating all of this. Killua rubbed a thumb over his brow and looked away, ears pink. “Yeah, for good-fucking-reason, too. Christ, Gon,” he said.

“I wouldn’t cheat on you,” Gon said, and he meant it. It might have been unfiltered and completely out there to suggest even dating, but Gon couldn’t help himself. He loved making Killua blush because it felt like something only Gon was capable of making him do.

Killua stood up and, for a split second, Gon thought he was just going to up and leave him there alone in the hospital at midnight. Gon opened his mouth to stop him, reaching for Killua’s jersey, but he had nothing to worry about. He softened when he realized that Killua was merely stepping closer, putting the bed railing down, and leaning his knee against the mattress.

Killua put a hand on the opposite railing, bent over Gon with his breath grazing Gon’s lips. They stared at one another as heat flushed through Gon. The sound of absolutely nothing except the creak on the railing when Killua gripped it tighter. Slowly, gradually, Gon became aware that there was, in fact, a world beyond Killua’s blue eyes in which his heart rate monitor spiked by a whole thirty beats per minute.

Killua glanced at the monitor with a smirk. “What, you gay for me or something?” Killua said, cheeky as ever.

“Gay in general, yeah,” Gon said.

“Coulda had me fooled.”

“What, when your dick was in my ass? Definitely something straight guys do,” Gon said with a grin when Killua’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Can you rot already?” Killua said. Gon giggled, his monitor now stuck at a whole hundred beats per minute when Killua threatened him like that. “How high are you right now?” Killua asked.

“Moderate to none,” Gon confessed. “Just numb.”

Killua put a thumb to Gon’s lips. He breathed shakily against them. He swore he could feel a spike of pain from how hard his heart was thudding his chest at the very real touch of Killua’s finger on his lips, grazing Gon’s bottom teeth as he said, “Can you feel this?”

“Y-Yes,” Gon wheezed, eyes wide.

Killua smiled lightly, on the edge of a laugh. Gon held his breath as best he could when Killua brought his lips to his own, brushing them together lightly before pressing in and holding Gon still by the head for a moment until Gon couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Do you want to—” Gon started when Killua leant back, his knee still resting on the edge of Gon’s bed. Gon swallowed hard, breath whistling out against the oxygen nubs. Killua’s hair looked amazing against Gon’s fingers. He didn’t even realize that he had put them there until Killua’s arm got stuck on his IV. Killua lightly lifted it off of his arm as Gon said, “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Killua hesitated. He looked up and met Gon’s wide, hopeful eyes. Gon smiled wide and said, “I’d take you all over LA and show you the entire campus.”

“Tempting offer,” Killua muttered, turning away. He scratched at his hair, effectively brushing Gon’s fingers away. Gon pinched onto the fabric of Killua’s jersey sleeve, insistent on keeping him there on the edge of his hospital bed for as long as he could manage.

“I could sweeten the deal,” Gon suggested, knowing one factor Killua couldn’t resist. Just as expected, Killua side-eyed him, skeptical as ever. “I’ll reinstall Hunter versus Hunter. I’ll kick your ass again, if you want.”

“As if,” Killua laughed. He leant a hand against the mattress next to Gon’s hip. Gon thought he might go apeshit buck-wild if Killua decided to look any more delicious in that goddamn Assassin jersey. “I’ll kick your ass for real this time, Freakss.”

“Freecss,” Gon said, smiling. Killua tipped his head to the side. “That’s my last name. You might want to know it if you’re gonna take my last name when we get married.”

“You smug son of a bitch,” Killua laughed, shoving his hand on Gon’s face. Gon giggled, floundering to catch Killua by the hand and free himself from any further torture. “Zoldyck-Freakss is a fucking mouthful. We’ll never get married, you asshat.”

“We could merge them. Freedyck.”

“Free-dick?!” Killua screamed, doubling over laughing. Gon’s stomach hurt from laughing and coughing by the time Killua ever recovered, at which point, he was already in the hallway screaming until a nurse told him to be quiet, which didn’t take very long at all. Gon’s face was red from laughing so damn hard when Killua came back in and slammed the door behind him. The night nurse glared furiously at him through the window before marching off.

Killua rubbed a hand over his eyes and muttered, “Jesus fucking Christ. Whatever. Fine, yeah, let’s fucking do this shit.”

“Really?”

“I just said ‘yes’, dumbass.”

“Oh, okay. Cool. When do you think you’ll be in LA next?” Gon asked.

“When are you coming back to San Fran, asshole? I can’t be the only mover here.”

“I don’t know. What if I just never left?” Gon said with a cheeky smile.

Killua rolled his eyes. “And, what, bummed at mine?”

“Yeah,” Gon said.

Killua stared at him like he was out of his goddamn mind, and maybe he was, but Hell, he was numb and on drugs and totally fine with suggesting just about anything. Gon smiled sleepily at Killua, who put his hands on his cocked hips and turned away, dragging his tongue over his teeth before sneering at Gon. “Can you even fucking breathe, dude?”

Gon took a deep breath and coughed. “Yeah.”

“I have work.”

“I’ll be quiet. They won’t even know I’m there,” Gon said.

“Yeah, because ‘Gon’ and ‘quiet’ definitely belong in the same sentence.”

Gon pouted. He wished he could curl into a fetal position because he certainly would be there if he wasn’t connected by a vacuum tube through the chest cavity.

Killua collapsed back into his chair and, at long last, muttered, “I’ll think about it. Now go the fuck to sleep.”

“I can’t. I’m hungry,” Gon murmured, cheek pressed against the pillows.

“I just gave you a fucking pudding cup.”

“I’m a growing boy,” Gon said.

“Yeah, says your popped lung. What’re you allowed to eat anyway?” Killua said with a sigh.

Gon confessed that he was craving a smoothie, so Killua looked up places that sold smoothies at the stroke of midnight and set an order out to have it delivered to the hospital. He was gone for only a few minutes to fetch the food before he was back with two smoothies and a bag of fries. A nurse came in during that time to check on Gon, who needed to be unplugged from just about everything in order to go and piss in privacy. When Killua came in, it was to the unsightly image of Gon being re-installed back into the equipment.

Gon was in and out of sleep through the night and, for the bulk of his waking hours, Killua was awake with his feet kicked up on a stool. Eventually, some time around two in the morning, Gon scooted over in the bed to make room for Killua, who peered over his shoulder at the open windows to the hallway. Killua flung his feet off of the stool, got up, closed the curtains, and went to join Gon. He was careful to take only the very edge of the mattress and put the railing up to keep his laptop from slipping.

Killua looked at the windows again, though the curtains were closed now.

“What’re you waiting for?” Gon asked.

“For that night nurse to light a fire under my ass,” Killua huffed, tense as he settled back against the pillows. Gon put his cheek on Killua’s shoulder, looking at the screen of someone else’s stream that he had never seen before.

“Would she call it medium-rare or well-done?”

“Well-done,” Killua said.

“I’d call it raw.”

“You do realize that unlike you, I am fully capable of walking out of this hospital room,” Killua threatened. Gon took hold of Killua’s jersey once more to keep him on the mattress.

Killua didn’t move, though. He stayed put, right where Gon could feel the heat of his skin through the silky fabric of his Assassin jersey and the soft texture of Killua’s hair against his hair. Gon nestled in, watching with lidded eyes as someone played HvsH on screen.

He didn’t mind when Killua switched tabs, either, because it kept his mind occupied trying to match whatever was going on in Killua’s head when neither of them were speaking. His mind was still swirling from the medication the nurse gave him after unplugging him and plugging him back in. It clouded his attention and before long, he couldn’t keep up with Killua’s activities. He fell asleep before long.

The next morning, Gon felt less inclined to move because of the warm weight against his side. He turned his head, his chin pressed to Killua’s familiar shoulder. When he looked up, he was so close that his eyelashes ghosted against Killua’s cheek, stirring him awake.

“Uh…”

Gon startled when he realized that wasn’t Killua talking.

He yelped when he realized that it was, in fact, Alluka staring at them with one foot over the hospital room threshold.

“Alluka!” Gon shrieked.

Killua was out of the bed in an instant. His hip hit the railing and he cursed, flopping over the side and causing an absolute racket. Gon’s hands flew to his mouth as Alluka jumped and Killua stuck the landing—just barely. Gon was grateful that Killua’s laptop was no longer on the bed or else he would have just witnessed a murder.

Killua straightened his shirt, still groggy with sleep, and said, “I’m fine.”

“What were you guys—?”

“Nothing,” Killua said.

“We’re dating,” Gon said with a cheeky smile tipped against his shoulder. Killua whirled around to stare in horror at Gon. Meanwhile, Alluka gasped and clapped her hands. She skittered into the room on light feet and took a little twirl so her skirt billowed around her. Killua mouthed to Gon, “I’m gonna fucking murder you.”

“Yay! I’m so happy. Killua, you lucky devil,” Alluka said.

“What about him? Isn’t he lucky?” Killua said with a pout, gesturing to Gon, who looked oh-so smug.

Alluka waved a dismissive hand. “Gon’s the real catch here. We both know that.”

“Have you met Machi yet?” Gon asked.

Alluka put a hand to her lips. Killua blinked at Gon from where he stood not far from his sister before looking sharply to Alluka. Alluka looked away, eyes wide and guilty. “What about Machi?” he said.

“N-Nothing!” Alluka squeaked with a nervous giggle. She shimmied around the end of Gon’s bed to claim his other side, effectively putting Gon between her and her brother, who looked nothing less than murderous. “I just—You know I love World of Warcraft.”

“You conveniently left that out,” Killua said

“I met Machi at the tournament!” Gon said, throwing an arm up—the arm that didn’t have a tube stuck under it. Alluka gasped. “I coulda introduced you two! I asked if she knew you and she said she did.”

“No way!” Alluka cried. She slumped to the side with a dejected groan. “But today’s the last day of Meta. I’ll never get to see her…”

“I don’t have her added on Twitter, but Hisoka knows her! He follows me on Twitter so I could message him,” Gon said.

“Penniwise?” Killua said. “What the fuck does that clown have to do with—He follows you on Twitter?!”

Gon nodded, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. The time on it blinked back ten in the morning and, with it, dozens of notifications from Aunt Mito-san. He tapped in a response to let her know that he was awake and all right—it seemed Zushi had gone ahead and called her anyway.

Killua took his seat once more and watched from over the mattress as Alluka looked suggestively between the two of them. Killua put up his middle finger. Alluka made a thrusting motion with her hips and Killua covered his face with his hand. Meanwhile, Gon was oblivious to their antics. He returned to reality after sending a message to Hisoka asking about MochiCakes.

They stayed with Gon until Canary came to pick them up for MetaCon—evidently, Killua had a panel to be at before his last mini tournament. Alluka leant over the hospital bed to kiss Gon on the cheek. Gon gave her hand a squeeze as she pulled away. “Get better, all right?” she said with a threatening jab in Gon’s direction.

He laughed nervously and said, “I’ll try my best.”

Alluka nodded, satisfied, and left to meet Canary out in the hallway. Gon could see Canary’s heels through the window below the blinds and soon, Alluka’s Oxfords joined her, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

When Gon turned to Killua then, he found Killua staring at him. “I don’t know how to say ‘goodbye’,” Killua said.

“Then don’t,” Gon said.

“What do you want me to do? Do I hug you, or…?” Killua said, raising an eyebrow as he held his arms out.

Gon laughed, nestling into the pillows more as he said, “You don’t need to do anything. Have fun at Meta, okay? And think about what I said.” That I could stay here in San Francisco, if you wanted me to.

It went unsaid. Killua swallowed hard, and Gon could see it on his pale throat. Gon smiled softly as Killua leant over the railing, his hands clutching to it as he pressed his lips to Gon’s opposite cheek. He could still feel Alluka’s lips on his other cheek, and he felt all warm and fuzzy inside—it was, once again, an odd combination with the tube curled up in his chest.

“I want…” Killua started, voice straining. He leant back, meeting Gon’s eyes. Gon’s eyes had fluttered closed until that moment. Killua licked his lips and looked down. “You could stay, I guess. I just—I have to ask the team if they’d mind. It’s not just my house.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Gon said. “What were you gonna say you wanted?”

“What?”

“You said ‘I want…’, so what do you want?”

Killua shut his mouth with a scowl, teeth clenched so tight his jaw ticked. Gon giggled as Killua said, “I want you to shut the fuck up because you’re ruining the moment.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really. You can fuck right off, Freakss—I’ll see you later,” Killua said as he pushed off of the bed and started for the door. He grabbed his water bottle on the way and, at the door, he turned around. Gon put up his hands in the shape of a heart and made a kissy-face. Killua flipped him off before swinging the door open and stepping out.

He could hear Canary’s voice muffled through the glass, saying, “Alluka and I both saw that kiss.” to which Killua replied, “Neither of you will mention a fucking thing.” As they walked down the hallway, Canary’s heels clicked on the tiles and Alluka’s voice sounded, saying, “Zushi’s gonna be so happy for you two.” Gon giggled when Killua said, “He fucking better. I swear to God—”

11:14 GON: Hey! This is Gon, your tournament neighbor

11:15 HISOKA: Ah, yes, no need for an introduction

11:15 HISOKA: I’ll just need your PayPal details and the Snapchat code will be in the invoice

11:16 GON: This isn’t about your premium Snapchat account

11:16 HISOKA: It sounds like it is

11:17 GON: It isn’t !!

11:17 HISOKA: Your loss, Freakss

11:17 HISOKA: To what do I owe this pleasure

11:17 GON: I’m looking to contact MochiCakes but I don’t know how

11:17 HISOKA: One does not simply CONTACT Machi

11:18 GON: 😗

11:18 GON: How do I let her know that Alluka wants to meet her then??

11:18 HISOKA: O well, for one, I’m sitting right next to Machi

11:19 GON: 😮

11:19 GON: Can you tell her for me?

11:19 HISOKA: For a price

11:19 GON: …What price

11:20 HISOKA: A video of your chest tube being removed

11:21 GON: It’s not getting removed until tomorrow D:

11:21 HISOKA: Tough

11:22 GON: Hisokaaaa D:

11:22 GON: I PROMISE to record it and send it to you FIRST THING tomorrow

11:25 HISOKA: Deal.

11:26 HISOKA: Where is Alluka we’re hunting her down now.

12:12 Killy Willy 😜 is typing…

12:13 KILLUA: Your ass is squad approved

12:13 GON: What does that mean?

12:13 KILLUA: It means you can stay at the fucking house dude

12:13 GON: 🥰

12:13 KILLUA: Don’t fucking use that emoji

12:14 KILLUA: It makes me sick

12:14 GON: 😘

12:14 KILLUA: You looking to get your ass kicked, Freakss?

12:14 GON: I’m lookin to get your 🍆 in my ass

12:16 KILLUA: YOU’RE LITERALLY IN THE HOSPITAL

12:16 GON: Freaquey 👅

12:16 KILLUA: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

12:16 KILLUA: I couldn’t even give you a handjob without the nurses panicking about a sudden spike in your BPM

12:17 GON: That sounds like a challenge

12:20 KILLUA: I’ll be back at 3PM

12:21 KILLUA: Don’t fucking MOVE until I get there

12:21 GON: Are you gonna give me a handjob???

12:25 KILLUA: FUCK no this video isn’t gonna upload itself.

KILLU uploaded a video!
MetaCon Vlog: Newbie’s BACK — Wins Gold & Also KILLU’s Heart
3.9M views ∙ 1 week ago

KILLU uploaded a video!
Vlog: RIP Freakss — STILL In The Hospital, STILL Alive
3.1M views ∙ 6 days ago

KILLU uploaded a video!
Vlog: BREAKING FREAKSS OUT OF THE HOSPITAL Feat. Ikalgo
3M views ∙ 4 days ago

KILLU uploaded a video!
Breaking Solo Kill Record—33 Kills! Feat. Freakss In The Background
2.7M views ∙ 2 days ago

KILLU uploaded a video!
My First Kiss?? Feat. Freakss
1.2M views ∙ 4 hours ago