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It sounds messed up, the way Nanika manifests it, but it’s always made sense to Killua.
Touka koukan, the concept of equivalent exchange.
Nanika was the one who taught him that when the universe grants something, it must also give up something of equal value. However, Nanika is kind, so she doesn’t ask for payment up front, only after the wish is granted. She will wait patiently; give first, take second. Even as a child, Killua appreciated and understood the grand nature of what Nanika can do, and what it means.
So when Illumi tells him he can’t have friends, Killua accepts it as a fact. How many people has he killed? How much happiness has he robbed from their loved ones? He has to pay that back somehow, doesn’t he? He can’t allow himself to be happy.
When Killua meets Gon, it’s like stepping into a different world. Gon’s different from everyone else Killua’s ever known because Gon doesn’t expect anything from him. He offers his friendship and bares his soul like burning sunlight. He doesn’t think before he speaks or acts, takes everything at face value. He’s stubborn to a fault and defies touka koukan on every level. He wants to have it all and on his own terms: he wasn’t going to let Killua buy him time and refused to win that dodgeball match the wrong way. Killua by contrast is so passive, strategic. It’s part of the reason he follows Gon so freely – he makes it easy. Gon’s smile is contagious, and Killua shares in the glory, steals a bit for himself.
When Kurapika explains the concept of nen vows, Killua gets it instantly. He doesn’t need Kurapika’s warning to decide that it’s something he doesn’t need to do. He grasps, firsthand, how dangerous it can be.
Gon defies touka koukan on every level, but it applies to him all the same. Killua is acutely cognizant of this, when he feels the rush in the forest, decades of potent aura whisking through his bones. His heart sinks when he sees a man he doesn’t recognize. When Killua fails to save Gon’s arm, he wonders if it’s because he’s not good enough for the universe to give him this one thing. When Killua manages to get Gon on his back, he walks slowly, careful not to shatter something already beyond broken.
Later, Killua sees Gon on his deathbed, the toxic nen swirling around him, and remembers how it had felt standing in the presence of such hatred. It’s cruel but it makes perfect sense – it’s a symbol of what Gon had to give up. That dying boy is so different from the unadulterated Gon that Killua loves, but he loves him all the same.
That image of Gon shatters and brings Killua down to Earth. It makes him wonder, is he good enough for Gon now? After all their faults, maybe they can finally come together. Killua brushes aside the selfish thought. They all make mistakes, he should know.
When Killua touches Gon’s shriveled, scorched, dead hand, he’s reminded of how dangerous equivalent exchange is. He’s so angry, it’s not like Gon didn’t know this, and he still did it, still left them all behind. This is what happens when you ask for too much, because what if you don’t have anything left to give?
Killua has seen more death than most, has caused more death than most. But what he sees in Gon’s almost lifeless form is much worse than all those deaths, because it gives him hope, a hope he only has because of Alluka and Nanika. It’s a hope that pangs through his muscles and pounds through his blood, countered by an all-encompassing guilt. There was never any question though on what Killua would do, but it tears him up all the same.
He gave up Alluka, to have the chance to meet Gon. So now he will give up Gon, to make it up to Alluka.
He can’t have both; he doesn’t deserve one, much less two beautiful souls who accept and love him.
That’s what he tells himself, when he swears to never use Nanika again. He’s asked enough of her, without giving anything in return. Alluka says it’s because Nanika loves them both, that she makes the only exception for them. Killua disagrees; he reckons the payment for his commands is his love. In return, she is kind without limits, and that betrays equivalent exchange like nothing else. He doesn’t say this to Alluka though – to her, he wants his love to be enough.
When Nanika heals Gon, Killua feels his heart swell with the two of them by his side. This is it, the last request. He won’t push his luck anymore, won’t prolong the pretense that his love alone is sufficient. It simply can’t be, when just moments ago, he was touching a collapsing twig of an arm and now Gon is whole. Killua fights back the tears in his eyes and hugs his sister tight before patting her head the way she loves. He naturally folds into the way she leans forward for more, even as her eyes slowly flutter closed in sleep. He sweeps her slumping body into his arms, and leaves the hospital room, resisting his urge to wait until Gon’s awake. He knows if he does, he won’t bring himself to go. Killua doesn’t even glance at those waiting outside the door, just murmurs “he’ll be okay now” and leaves.
He betrays his promise later, uses Nanika again to protect Alluka. Killua doesn’t think much of it, just files it away under another way that proves he’s not good enough and adds more time to infinity, the size of his debt and shortcomings.
Alluka’s joking when she says she will give Killua back to Gon when she’s done with him, but Killua finds it uncanny how she pinpoints it perfectly. Killua’s tethered between them, circling between one or the other. He’ll never stop loving Alluka and Nanika; he’ll never stop loving Gon. Killua can’t give his heart wholly to his sisters, this he knows, but he’ll try his best to make it close, because he owes them everything. Isn’t that why he chooses them this time around?
He’s almost sure Gon will never be so reckless again, but Killua’s afraid to stay – because he has nothing left in him to give.
“Kite said, no matter what, we’ll always be friends!” Gon exclaims, with the world in his eyes. Killua lights up like a flame, and nods enthusiastically.
They’ll always be friends, even when they’re leaving each other.
Would Gon still mean this, if he knew Killua wasn’t planning to come back?
He misses a few of Gon’s calls shortly after they separate – some by accident, and then after that on purpose. Killua gets a text from him soon after.
I lost my nen.
Killua feels as empty as the text when he reads it. Nanika is kind and powerful, but it seems even she has her limits. Killua can’t do a thing.
He replies I’m sorry. It’s the only thing he has to offer, resigned and small in bites of pixels on a screen.
don’t be, I thought you should know
Somehow, this version of Gon, pensive and unyielding makes Killua feel so far away. So, he types Anything else should I know?
Killua thinks for a second, and deletes the words, types Is there more you want to tell me? Gon was always one to speak his mind, but in these short texts, Killua knows he’s leaving a lot unsaid. He should just call, try to comfort his best friend the only way he can, but his fingers get stuck. There’s a lot of Gon that he’s filed away – the shape of his smile, the ardor of his voice, the sun in his eyes. It’s easier to bury that longing when it’s just words on a screen, where he can remember Gon only as a locked-up memory. Killua hits the backspace button again and replaces the words on his screen.
Are you thinking of me?
He keeps it in his drafts folder and lets Gon’s text sit at the top of his inbox. It tempts and reminds him of his weakness, how he can’t let go. He’s never been able to talk to Alluka when she was locked up; he was off chasing the sun in its shadow. It seems somehow fitting, if he is to put his love on hold.
He can’t.
After that, the drafts pile up. There are little things that Gon says which cascades in Killua’s mind, and so Killua puts pen to paper but never mails them to flight. When Gon tells him about the rare shooting stars passing over Whale Island and sends him a picture, Killua replies it’s beautiful, but saves it’s like you, but in motion. When Gon whines over his math homework and how he’d rather do Knuckle’s nen math while in a fight, Killua replies you dummy, math isn’t that hard, but saves you know you can’t fight him anymore, don’t be reckless. When Gon says he misses Killua, Killua types down I miss you too, but saves missing you is my default state.
Sometimes Killua thinks he should start a conversation over something that’s not trivial, something other than his new favourite chocolate and Alluka’s latest addiction (handmade bracelets) and he can’t. Everything brings him back to the same place.
I didn’t want to leave you but I had to
I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. It’s hard to live a life where you’re not here, but I’m trying
Do you need me, the way I need you?
Killua can swallow poison and endure all kinds of pain, but when he pours his soul into words that are never released, it feels like his entire body is exposed like an open wound.
He doesn’t stop though, because there’s no one to tell.
I can’t be by your side anymore, but if I could, would you still want me?
Sometimes I miss your idiotic ways. Alluka’s too smart for her own good, she doesn’t keep me on my toes like you do. I never have to worry about her, except I still do. I worry about you too
I don’t know when I fell in love with you. But it’s still true
Alluka is all smiles, twirling in a sea of candlelit dandelions. Killua smiles at the sight and takes a picture, saves it in his collection of Alluka looking beautiful in beautiful places.
“Brother, do you remember when you asked me this? If I’d be okay if you were the only person in the world who loved me?” Alluka asks him. She bends down and hides herself amongst the sprawling yellow, her skirt falling around her like a parachute.
“I remember, and now you don’t just have me, you have all of your new friends too.” Killua replies, crouching to meet her.
“So can I ask you the same question? If I was the only person in the world who loved you, would you be okay with that?”
Killua tilts his head. “Why do you ask Alluka?”
Alluka shrugs with the cutest pout and a sigh in her breath. “I’ll take that as a no. Which is totally fine, I expected this, but you could’ve at least tried a bit harder brother!”
Killua flushes as he backpedals. “Alluka that’s not why – you know I’m happy with you and Nanika. Are you unhappy? Is there something, somewhere you want to go? Because we can do anything you want.”
Instead, Alluka laughs at him. “We’re happy with you too brother. I just think it’s unfair, letting other people love us so much when you don’t allow the same for yourself. You could be happier than you are now, we want you to be happier.”
Killua leans in and hugs his sister, humming gently into her hair. “I am happy. I’m as happy as I need to be.” Alluka hugs back, but she doesn’t just agree with him the way she used to, following him with no questions asked. It’s soothing, seeing her develop into her own person.
“But when’s the last time you talked to Ikalgo? I spend more time on the phone with Leorio than you these days, and I know how much free time you have. You spend a lot of it typing on your phone, but no one ever types back, no one calls. You’re trying so hard to be alone to everyone else but me brother, that’s not what happiness should be.”
And it’s painful, hearing her see right through him.
“I love you Alluka, but I want to give you my undivided attention. Is that so wrong?” He pulls back to stare into her eyes, the same shade as his, but unmarred by history and broken promises.
“I love you too brother, and so does Nanika. But your heart belongs to you, and it’s not wrong to want to share that, the way I do with Nanika, with Palm, with everyone.”
There’s something there that Alluka doesn’t have to say, but Killua gets it anyway. Nanika will never ask for his heart, even though he pledged it to her the day he left Kukuroo Mountain with her years ago.
“Thank you both.” He says instead. He’s been looking out for them for so long, that it takes him by surprise to realize they’ve been looking after him too.
The next time Alluka calls Leorio, Killua says hi too. He asks about his practice, about Kurapika and the rest of their friends; he apologizes for his absence. Leorio brushes it off, says people get busy. Kurapika did it, does it to him all the time, Leorio laughs. He didn’t mean it as an excuse Killua thinks, but he asks about it anyway.
“You make exceptions for those you love. It’s just how it is.” Leorio explains, and it gives Killua clarity, reminiscent of Alluka in the sun-kissed field. His heart can expand to make room for all these people who’ve done right by him, and that kind of love, the one he fought for and was willing to die for, who’s to say that isn’t infinite? Yes, because love grows the pie, increases the capacity for doing good, and lets go of the bad. Love in itself is a form of equivalent exchange, except the stakes are higher.
Leorio moves on, chastising Killua now on his sugar intake as if nothing has changed. It strikes Killua as strange, to be so easily forgiven.
And yet, in that moment, Killua finds that he’s already forgiven Gon.
I forgave you before you said sorry. I think I forgave you before you even woke up
I haven’t heard your voice in two years, three months, and fourteen days... I want to change that to zero
Please say you’ll forgive me too
Alluka rolls over to his side of the bed, the day after they get back from visiting Palm.
“Brother, did you save Gon for last?” They’ve been making their way through all their friends, stopping by for visits and sending more emails and photos. Alluka’s right; his heart feels lighter yet fuller all at once. But he still hasn’t initiated anything with Gon, still fails to even say hello first despite months of saved old messages that make him feel like a melodramatic teenage girl in love and a soulful poet all at once. There’s a reason why he hasn’t sent anything.
“Yeah, I’m gathering the courage.” Killua admits sheepishly. He’s been trying to be more open to her ever since he realized how worried she was, that giving up his happiness saps a bit of hers too.
“Can I see?” She makes a play for his phone, and Killua instinctively throws it up and into his other hand, out of her reach. Alluka tickles him in retaliation, grabs it while he sputters and stares.
“Brother…there are so many! You didn’t send a single one?” She admonishes, her eyes wide and confused as they follow her small finger scrolling down the screen.
Killua just sighs and prays she doesn’t read any too carefully.
“Just do it already! It’s Gon, he’d probably be happy even if you just butt dialed him.” Alluka groans, and Killua chuckles, because she’s probably right about that.
Killua glances at his drafts that night and backs out into a new message. He clicks to save it, but his inbox is full – figures. So, Killua sends it out before he thinks twice, it’s better than a butt dial isn’t it? It feels serene, how control slips out of his fingers without a sound.
If me and you were a series of equivalent exchanges, what did I give you?
Gon texts back almost instantly.
what kind of question is that Killua?
Killua’s breath halts for a moment, just before the next text arrives.
I owe you everything
Killua jumps quietly out of bed, slips out onto the balcony, and with trembling fingers and a wavering hesitation, he dials Gon’s number.
It isn’t until Gon picks up and practically gasps his name into the phone that it really hits Killua that Gon’s been waiting for him to call, because that’s what he’d do if Gon had never picked up and messages little more than he needs to.
Equivalent exchange has two sides – a give and a take. There’s still a whole world’s worth of sights he has yet to take in, and a whole phone’s worth of texts full of heart that he has yet to give away.
There’s a lot of lost time Killua has to make up for, but that’s okay.
It’s only fair.