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Chapter Text

***

it’s time to go, it’s time to go

***

“T-minus one hundred and eighty seconds.”

Killua clenched his hands into fists and rose from his chair, walking over to the television. 

“This feels unreal. Agh, I’m so nervous,” Ikalgo whispered, running his fingers through his vibrant dyed-red hair. 

“It’ll be fine,” Killua soothed, though he was more trying to reassure himself. He looked up to the screen where the cameras showed the astronauts strapped in tight, visors down. Of course, Killua was only looking at one of them in particular. 

“Aren’t you excited?” Ikalgo pressed a fist to his mouth. “Wow. Okay. Wow. This is terrifying. What if something goes wrong?” 

Killua pinched himself. “Then it goes wrong, and we’ll deal with it.”

“How are you so calm?” Ikalgo asked, jolting when the automated voice announced, “T-minus one hundred seconds.” 

“I trust us.” Killua grinned, though it was a big fat lie and he was not calm at all. Suddenly, he wished he had spoken up earlier because he knew it would actually kill him if Gon died from a freak accident without ever knowing the truth. That would also kill Gon and stuff, but yeah.

“He’ll be fine.” Astrophysics director Dr. Krueger (who insisted on being called Bisky) came up to Killua’s side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Where the hell did you come from, hag?” Killua yelped, jumping away and choosing to ignore her comment. “I swear, you creep up out of the blue.” 

“Very funny.” She snapped. “I hope you fix that attitude, kid, or it’s back to the mop closet for you.” 

Killua rolled his eyes. Sure, he spent his first year at HXH wiping down linoleum floors, but he secured the job anyway.  “I got here on skill alone, and you know it.” 

“Careful, I might spill my coffee.” She snarked, raising her steaming mug in threat. Killua knew she was trying to bring his mind away from the takeoff, that she was being kind in her own special Bisky-way. He appreciated it, really, but it didn’t do much. His stomach felt like it was going to bubble up his throat and slop onto the carpet. What if, what if, what if.

What if Gon didn’t come back? 

“He signed up for this.” Bisky put in suddenly. Apparently, Killua was just that obvious. “You know that.”

“I know, I know, lady.” Killua glared at the screen, which switched to the outside of the rocket. Doesn’t make it any easier. “He knows what he’s doing. I trust him.” 

I’m doing this for him. I am. Killua didn’t realize he’d said the words aloud until Bisky spoke. 

“I hope you mean that.” When her staring bore no eye contact from him, she walked off to watch from a different computer. 

“I do.” Killua echoed. 

***

a tale as old as time

***

“Killua,” Gon said, the excitement in his voice near-tangible. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” 

“Ugh, you sound like Mr. Tsezguerra,” Killua groaned. He felt Gon burrowing under the covers, so he gave a measured kick and smiled in triumph when it yielded a yelp. Gon crawled forward and poked his head out, laying back on the pillow. 

“I want to be an astronaut.” 

Killua laughed. “That’s so boring! Everyone says that, but we all end up working at corrupt companies, anyway.” 

“That’s so mean, Killua.” Gon shuffled closer until their sides were flush. “Don’t you think space is so pretty?”

The silhouette of his arm reached up and pointed to the dark ceiling of his lightless room. They should talk quieter, or Mito was going to scold them again. 

“You can almost see the stars right now, can’t you?” Gon breathed, sounding in awe.

Killua glanced up at the roof. He couldn’t see any stars, no, because they were indoors. But if Gon saw them then they had to be there. “I guess.” 

“Can you just imagine how big the universe is? When Mr. Kiriko explained it I thought my head would explode.” 

“It’s infinite, idiot. We can’t comprehend it.” Killua told him importantly. “And is that what brought on this sudden interest? Mr. Kiriko’s lesson?” He only taught them about rockets because Noko was trying to derail the class before he got to explaining the digestive system. As one of their ramshackle school’s few science teachers he had the mighty task of educating every single student in the sixth grade. 

“No, Killua,” Gon sighed. “Space has always been cool. But I never really thought I could go there until now.”

“What, you didn’t know rockets existed until now?” Killua teased. 

“It doesn’t matter if it’s stupid.” Gon interrupted. “I’m going to space. I’ll figure it out, somehow, without any dumb math or history!” 

“You do realize you have to be a scientist to even get close, right?” 

“Yeah, but that’s what you’re here for.” 

“Oh, you think I’m just going to use my grades to get you a free pass to space?”

“Yes.” Gon answered without hesitation. “You’ll help me, won’t you?” 

Killua usually would have laughed in his face. But hearing the palpable anticipation in Gon’s voice made his stomach scrunch in weird knots. So he fumbled with his hand and smacked Gon’s face, lips spread in a grin. 

“I don’t really have a choice.” He snickered. “You’d just keep begging me until you got what you wanted.” 

“Would not!” Gon gasped. He must have spoken too loud, because a second later, the door cracked open. Golden light spilled in from the hall, blocked out only by a very angry, very scary, Mito-shaped shadow. 

“It’s one in the morning!” she cried. “I swear to God, Gon Freecs, if you do not go to bed right now you're never having a sleepover again!” She slammed the door shut. 

There was a breath of silence. Killua squirmed away from Gon, towards the edge of the bed. He hated being yelled at. 

But then Gon giggled into his ear, laughter carried on skyward gales, and he knew he made the right choice. 

He’d get Gon to the stars. 

No matter what. 

***

and now I know, now I know

***

Unfortunately for Gon and Killua, acing school and getting a ticket to space was not the easy journey middle school wistful thinking made it out to be. 

For one: they actually had to pass. 

“What if I just found the door to the roof?” Killua joked one day at lunch, knee bouncing up and down under the table as he glared at his biology paper. 

“Huh?” Gon mumbled around a sandwich. “What does that mean?”

“To jump.” Killua deadpanned, brandishing the red-lettered C+ for Gon to view. 

Gon dropped his sandwich, crumbs around his shock-opened mouth. 

“That bad, huh?” Killua sighed. But Gon was leaning across the table and grabbed Killua’s shoulders. 

“Don’t say that.” he ordered, frantic. “You can’t die.” 

Killua felt his throat close up because he could feel Gon’s rough palms on his collarbone and — what? Had he said something? 

“Why, because you’re not in space yet?” Killua accused, prying Gon’s fingers off with shaking hands. 

“Exactly,” Gon gave a very serious nod. 

Killua should have felt repulsed by the admission, but the look of utter determination in Gon’s eyes was enough to brim his ribs with euphoria. 

“R-right.” He nodded, setting the paper down. “I’ll ask Milluki to tutor me.” 

Gon smiled. 

***

May rolled around, and Gon turned fifteen. When Killua hugged him, Gon squeaked for joy and nearly strangled the life out of him. 

“I’m so glad you’re my best friend,” Gon gushed. Killua ducked his head into Gon’s shoulder. 

“I think I’m the lucky one.” He chose not to say more, instead pulling away to give him his gift — a telescope he’d worked to save up for. (With…a decent amount of picking Illumi’s clown boyfriend’s wallet here or there.) Gon truly screeched for joy now. 

They spent the whole night watching the stars, and when cumulus clouds rolled over, Killua spent the rest of their time watching Gon. I’m getting this idiot to space, Killua thought to himself, a repetition of something he told himself day in and out. He’s worth it. Worth it all.

Worth even older-brother-study-sessions. 

Despite Milluki’s constant shouting and bellowing of “What the fuck, Kil?! That’s a ribosome, not the fucking mitochondria!” Killua did improve his grades. He passed his freshman year of high school in flying colors, enough so that his father gave a nod in approval. His strongest subjects, history and music, earned him a nice letter from his respective teachers telling him to keep up the good work. 

In fact, on the last day of school, his strings teacher was so impressed, she asked him to meet her outside the orchestra room one day. 

“Hi, Ms. Senritsu,” Killua smiled. “I’m not in trouble, am I?” 

“Not at all,” she laughed. She presented him with a blue slip of paper. “In fact, I’ve seen you go above and beyond with the cello. I think you’ll really do well with this.”

Killua looked down and read the curling script. His heart stopped. 

“I don’t want to be presumptuous, but if you’re interested in pursuing this to another extent, might I suggest districts?” 

Killua’s face reddened. “Districts? Oh, no, I’m not that good,” he laughed stiffly. 

Ms. Senritsu stared at him. “If you’re not that good , then Shaiapouf is pretty shabby himself.” 

Killua nearly choked. The Shaiapouf? The best strings-player and composer in the world? Sure, cello was his third instrument but…

“I–I’ll look at it,” Killua repressed a grin. “I’d really, really like to do it.” 

Ms. Senritsu smiled. “Lovely.” 

Killua did look into the districts. He didn’t tell Gon, though, because he had a feeling it would distract him. Gon needed to focus on studying. He didn’t really need Killua’s extra stuff piled on. 

So on a bright and early Saturday morning, June 10th to be precise, Killua packed up his cello case, grabbed his folder, and hopped on the nearest bus to Yorkshin Symphony Hall. The auditions were filled with talented players and cost a 300 jenny fee. Killua worried he wasn’t good enough and that he was wasting everyone’s time and money, yet he knew deep down he was still pretty damn decent. His piece, Reason arranged by Yuzu, made the gothic ribbed vaults reverberate with notes that settled far in his bones, far enough to assure him that he had done his best. 

Two weeks after the audition, Killua had still heard nothing. He knew they could take a long time with plenty of participants to filter through, but he wasn’t so much of an idiot as to hope. 

He and Gon were sitting out on the grass as the year’s humid June rolled on. They were working on a model rocket at the local park after Gon had begged and bayed him to let them finally test it out. Killua was reluctant to jettison his child (okay, well….hunk of metal) into the atmosphere (one hundred feet into the air) but when Gon had looked at him like that, his mouth answered before his brain. 

“Careful with the shock cord mount,” Killua advised, lying flat on his back. The secluded knoll was the quietest area available, with a thick banyan tree shading them from the blazing sun. Tangled roots dripped from above the branches and rested around him in a curtain, impairing his view of whatever Gon was doing. 

“Yeah, got it!” Gon called back, fiddling with one of the fins. He finished setting up, then fired the thrust and sprinted over to Killua. They watched in awe as a small flame sparked out of the bottom and the model shot up into the air. 

“That’s amazing.” Gon whispered. Killua was just as awestruck — at the look of pure joy on Gon’s face. His upturned lips and glinting, crooked white teeth and slack jaw. Wow. Killua could stare at that forever. 

The rocket hit its coast phase and final apogee. The parachute whipped out, slowing the rocket significantly. It teetered groundward, gliding on the wind.

“I’m going to get it,” Gon told Killua, taking off in the direction of the model as it drifted aground. Killua stared at Gon’s back as he receded into the trees, crashing through the forestry in search of a future they could practically taste. 

Gon returned a few minutes later, sweaty and scraped up but carrying their rocket. Killua had propped open his laptop and was making notes on the experiment. He double checked the dates on the launch of the Chimera II , the next mission to the moon, when Gon—

“What. Are you. Doing.” Killua felt his mouth go numb. 

“It’s hot,” Gon complained, shirt halfway down his arms. 

Killua refocused his eyes on his computer. “Yeah.” Kill me now. Kill me now. Kill me now. 

“You wanted to make mock-rocket fuel next didn’t you? Since this was a success, I think we can move onto that one!” And then Gon had the audacity to crouch beside him. 

“Hypergolic,” Killua blurted because he could see Gon’s reflection on the dark screen and he could feel his skin radiating warmth and he was going to pass out.

“Uh.” Gon winced, smiling foolishly. 

“Most fuel needs an igniter, but the hypergolic ones are so reactive that they don’t.” Killua clarified. “We don’t need to use those, though. I found this online recipe.”

Gon laughed, shoving his shoulder. “You make it sound like we’re going to eat it!” 

Do not touch me I am going to combust is what Killua might have said. Instead, he shifted to the side and yelled, “Dude, you're all sweaty, leave me alone.”

Which of course only made Gon snicker and grab at his arm again. 

“Hey, it looks like you have a notification in your mail,” Gon peered even closer. When he breathed down Killua’s neck he thought it important to inform the world that they could abandon any space-visitation plans, since he was already seeing stars.  “Aren’t you going to open it?” Gon pressed, reminding Killua he was still on earth. 

“Later,” Killua mumbled, reality crashing down. It was very likely a rejection from the districts. At least they’d put in the effort to email him, right? He sighed. 

Gon made a face. “Sounds like typical Killua-procrastination.”

“Fighting words!” Killua gasped. “Since when did you decide to broaden your horizons? By that I mean vocabulary.”

“I speak this language too, Killua,” Gon rolled his eyes and propped his arms behind him, finally giving Killua room to breathe. 

“Fine.” Killua stuck his tongue out and opened a new tab, checking his mail. 

“Well?”

“Oh.” Killua whispered. His voice just couldn’t quite fight its way out of his throat. The disbelief was too strong, because he had found nothing other than a sparkling letter of acceptance. 

“What are you looking at?” Gon asked. 

“I — um, I applied for the Yorkshin junior districts.” Killua explained. 

Gon gave him a blank look. 

“It’s like…a collection of musicians. Outside of school. They’re doing a summer camp this year, hosted by our school.  And Yorkshin is super hard to get into because so many people move here for all sorts of reasons, including the music industry. Bustling urbanity, and whatnot.” 

“So how’d you do?”

Killua pointed to the email, a screen full of confetti and bright yellow words that shouted, Welcome, Killua Zoldyck! “I got in,” he mumbled. 

Gon yelped. “That’s amazing! Great job, Killua!” he dove forward and squeezed Killua in an impressively tight embrace.

Oh my god he’s hugging me, he’s hugging me, and what the fuck, what the fuck, why is he so warm, and I think I’ll perish now all stampeded through Killua’s brain. He hugged back and felt Gon’s back rise and fall as he breathed and whoa, he was just as gentle and living and beautiful—

 “I’m so happy for you!”

Killua felt the wind leave his chest. 

Gon. 

Happy. 

For him. 

Killua made Gon happy. 

The rest of the day, Killua beamed so bright he swore his lips would split.

***

we’ve traveled the seas

***

The sun was probably jealous of Gon. 

“T-minus sixty seconds.”

He was, after all, light itself. Killua had the chance to learn that over a wonderful lifetime of friendship. 

“Dr. Tako, would you please head over to your station with the other engineers? We need to be ready.” That came from Dr. Kurta, the aloof ombuds overseer and, according to Killua’s wild imagination, one hundred percent the vigilante in the news who killed gangsters. 

Ikalgo winced. “Yeah, okay, Kurapika. Please don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”

Dr. Kurta shrugged, ever formal. 

“Bye, Squid,” Killua called, proud that his voice didn’t tremble. 

Ikalgo winked and headed off. “See you around, little Hunting. Try not to stress too much, okay?”

Killua nodded, then stared at the rocket. At the astronauts. At the glittering expense of pure emptiness. 

He pulled at a strand of dead skin on the edge of his finger until red blood burst through the surface. 

***

we’ve ridden the stars

***

The summer camp was fun. It took place at the school building, so Gon, on the science team, hung out with Killua often. Killua met some nice kids, including a violinist named Zushi. 

“Who’s this mystery friend?” Zushi asked, trailing after Killua. 

“I told you, we’re just going to watch his project.” Killua defended, tightening his fingers around the strap of his case. Zushi snickered. 

“Yeah, totally. Lead the way, prodigy.”  

Killua felt heat flare in his face. He hadn’t expected to do so well in the district camp. He was by no means top of the class, but that didn’t matter when everyone halfway-liked him. It was the most he’d enjoyed himself his whole life, nose deep in incomplete sheets with scribbled notes and exaggerated dynamics because Killua could hardly read his own writing. 

“Whatever.” Killua entered the gymnasium where the science fair was taking place. It didn’t take long to find Gon—he was in the center of the room, proudly presenting their rocket and fuel. After days of work, they’d perfected it. 

“Killua!” He cried, eyes lighting up. As he moved, his stupid dull green lab coat billowed out behind him. The thick plastic goggles completed the look. 

“Hey, Gon,” he smiled, dragging Zushi forward. “Meet Zushi.” 

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Gon beamed, shucking off his elbow-length rubber gloves to squeeze Zushi’s hand between his own. “So cool of you to stop by! How was rehearsal?” 

“Decent. I messed up all my flats and my vibrato is shit, but I’ll work on it.” 

“Messed up?” Zushi repeated. He tipped into Killua’s side, linking their arms. “That’s messed up? I think I’ll just quit. Take my violin to my dad, tell him I loved him.”  

Killua scoffed. “Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’re the best one in the violins.” 

“Says the guy carrying the orchestra!” Zushi accused. 

Gon laughed. “I actually have someone for you to meet, too! Retz, c’mere.” Gon peered around the other side of his tri-fold poster. 

A boy with sleek blond hair poked his head around. “Hi! You must be Killua!” He turned to Zushi. “And who are you?”

Zushi gaped, cheeks dark. “Uh…I’m…you…yeah.”

“Ooookayyy.” Retz grinned, ducking around to step up at Gon’s side.

Killua shoved his hands into his pockets, the weight of his cello suddenly twice as heavy on his back. “Hey, dude.” he managed out. 

“Dudette,” Gon corrected, and Retz burst into giggles. 

Killua’s stomach churned. “My bad.” 

“Think nothing of it. Anyway, I was just working on my motor project, and then I heard this BOOM. What do you know? Gon is blowing stuff up again.”

Gon shuffled his feet. “I forgot about the hyperbolics bit.”

“Hypergolic,” Killua corrected, stepping forward. “The rocket looks great, though. I guess all of our practice paid off. Think we’ll win?” 

“It’s not about winning, it’s about doing it right!” Gon tilted his head. “This will be great practice for when we go on.” 

At the same time, Retz said, “We?”

“Oh, yeah, Killua did half the work.” Gon grinned and pointed to the bottom corner of the poster, where Killua, Gon Freecs was written in purple and green sharpie. The omission of his last name would have made Killua happy if it weren’t for the fact that it looked like his last name was Freecs, and he and Gon were married or something. That was chill. Right? Yeah. Whatever. “He’s super smart.” 

Killua would actually disintegrate this time. He thought he’d gone numb to Gon’s praise, but apparently not. “Yeah, yeah, I’m awesome, got it.” he joked.

Retz’s eyes widened. “You guys have to show me how you made that. Why don’t we hang out after? This thing ends in an hour anyway.” 

Gon shook his head, putting a hand up. “Sorry, Retz, no can do. Maybe tomorrow?” 

“Aw, how come?” 

“It’s Killua’s birthday! We gotta do our rituals.”

Killua flushed. “You make us sound like a cult, jeez.” 

“Happy birthday, Killua!” Retz grinned. Zushi gasped. 

“How was I not made aware of this? My best buddy is fifteen?” He tried to hug him, but Killua retreated quickly with a snicker. 

He turned to Retz, less wary. “We can show you another time.”

With a smiling nod, she said, “Hey, Zushi, want to help me clean up?” 

Zushi blinked slowly. “Okay. Yeah, sure!” 

Gon folded his poster and heaved up a crate full of materials. With a wicked smile, Killua thumped his shoulder and took off. “Race you!” 

Rather futilely, Gon shouted, “Hey! No fair!”

Killua was already out the door. 

***

“Happy birthday, Killua.” Gon produced from his fridge a two tiered chocolate cake. 

Killua gaped. “This is — I can’t — this is amazing! Did you make this?” 

“Me and Alluka, both,” Gon grinned abashedly. He cut a slice for the two of them and brought Killua outside to sit on the apartment’s tiny balcony. They sank back in cheap, foldable beach chairs. “I called her up about all your favorite things.” 

“Oh? And which was your favorite?” Killua teased, ready to gorge on the dessert. 

“The fact that I knew more than her.” Gon admitted. 

Killua shoved cake into his mouth and coughed. “This is delicious.” He diverted. “Man, now I feel bad that I didn’t get you cake.”

Gon pointed to the pedestal at the side of the balcony where the telescope was propped. “You did more than enough for me. I feel like I should be doing more. Is there anything you want?”

No, not with those starstruck eyes, Killua couldn’t possibly ask for more with that beautiful face angled in askance. How could he feel worlds away from Gon yet close enough to breathe him in? 

“You—“ Killua winced. “—being here is enough.”

Gon took a forkful of his cake. “That makes me happy.” He pressed, “But are you sure?” 

A brisk wind blew across the open-air balcony. It was drafty on the seventh floor. That’s all. Killua shivered. 

“Close your eyes.”

Gon obeyed. 

Carefully, with the weight of the universe on his shoulders, Killua set his plate down and leaned forward. It was probably the light playing tricks on his eyes because there was no way Gon was tilting forward too. 

  I can’t do this, I can’t, what am I supposed to do now?

Killua pressed his forehead into Gon’s chest. “Thanks, Gon.” He whispered. 

Gon’s smile faltered and his eyes slowly opened. “Is that all?”

There was no way that was disappointment in his voice. Killua nodded quickly, retreating back to his chair and pulling his knees to his chest. “This is the best birthday ever, don’t worry.”

“That’s all I need, Killua,” Gon grinned. “That look on your face.”

“Agh, you’re the derpy one!” Killua accused. “And you shouldn’t lie. We all know you need the stars, too.”

Gon pressed his lips together. “I –– no. Never mind.”

“No, what is it?” Killua prompted. 

“Nothing.” Gon curled in on himself. 

“You’re doing that thing twitchy with your mouth.” Killua accused. “Don’t lie, dumbass.”

 He burst out, “I never told you about Ging, did I?”

Killua hesitated. Gon’s estranged father wasn’t a dinner time conversation, no. 

Gon inhaled deeply. “Well, he was part of the first Chimera mission. As an astronaut.”

Killua nearly toppled off his chair. “Wait, that was your dad? THE Ging? He’s famous?”

Gon nodded. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Is that why you’re doing this?” Killua was filled with confusion, laced in an ugly anger. “To copy your dad?” 

Gon lifted his head, eyes blazing. “I am not my dad.”

The words spilled out all too soon, “I’m not here to nurture your daddy issues. You think I’m here so you can make him proud, or whatever? Do you even want to go to space?” Why did I say that? It wasn’t Gon’s fault Killua suffered too. Just because Killua didn’t have an adventurous father to chase after with big dreams didn’t mean Gon couldn’t.  

“What the hell, Killua?” Gon bristled. Then he fell back. “I don’t want to fight with you, especially not on your birthday. I didn’t think this would make you mad. It’s just—my dad dropped everything to become an astronaut.”

He looked up at the open sky in awe. Killua didn’t need to check to know Gon was hungering for stupid stars again. 

“Maybe he was just a lousy guy.” 

“Maybe.” Gon admitted. “Or maybe he saw something out there. Whatever it was, I need to see it, too.”

“Why don’t you try seeing something out there for yourself?” Killua demanded. 

“Hm.” When Gon lurched up to look through the telescope, Killua knew it was over. For him and Gon both.

He was in the deep end now. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he tried to say, but he could only make out Gon’s hunched back. 

“What was that?” Gon called out. 

“I said,” Killua pushed himself to his feet. “Get out the way — let me have a look.”

He peered through the lens, admiring if not  despising the inky mass of night spangled with billions upon billions of silver flecks. Stars, planets, asteroids, everything out there that wasn’t down here. 

He’s going to leave me for the moon, Killua thought, heart falling through all seven stories and splattering open on the pavement. 

“Cool, right?” Gon laughed. 

Killua agreed, because after all, he couldn’t compete with the moon. 

***

The next day after camp, Zushi smiled at him all too brightly. “You know I love you no matter what, right?” 

“Whoa, dude, not the time.” Killua panicked, clutching his chest in surprise. “I’m not into you, sorry.”

Zushi yelped. “No, no––I meant—like—–I’m chill with you. You don’t have to keep that stuff secret, if you want. I don’t like you–I mean, Retz, wow-–I mean—you and Gon, right?” He finished helplessly. 

Killua paused. “What?” 

“I totally accept you and stuff. I’m trying to say I’m your friend and I’m here for you.” He rushes out. “Uh. No, I don’t like-like you, I know you’re taken and stuff. So don’t worry.” 

“What? ” Killua repeated, nearly dropping his cello case. “No! It’s not like that. He’s my friend.” 

“Oh.” Zushi’s mouth turned down. 

There was a stifling silence. Killua’s ears burned with it all. Had Zushi really…

 “I’m sorry, then.” his friend finally said. 

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” Killua snapped a bit too quickly. 

“I’m not blind, Killua.” Zushi rolled his eyes, shoving his violin into his cubby. 

Killua glared at the ground, packing away his notes. Ms. Baise had left him a smiley face on his piece. “I think that would do you some good.” 

Zushi sighed. “Honestly, I’d have to be to not notice.” 

“I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“Do you even want to go on the chem track? You know there’s music theory and stuff, right? You’re good enough to get a directed-study.”

“You don’t get it.” Killua shouldered his bag. The room had long since cleared out. “You don’t get what it’s like. He means it when he talks about the future.” 

“So, what, you’re going to chuck everything you want to hell so that he can get what he wants?”

Killua looked Zushi dead in the eye. 

“Yes.” 

***

we’ve seen everything 

***

“T-minus three. Two. One. Lift off.”

There were raucous cheers from every person in the room as each screen showed plumes of smoke erupting from the base of the rocket. It speared into the sky, all too fast and far away. The ground rumbled, stilled in its absence. The engineers and scientists screamed, high-fiving, jostling and embracing, tearful laughter coloring the air. 

Killua buried his face into his hands. 

It’s done. 

I hope you’re happy, Gon. 

***

“We’re going for another round of coffee. Wanna come with?” Bisky offered, placing a hand on her hip. 

“Celebratory caffeine?” Killua jittered. “Hard pass.” He had enough buzzing nerves to fuel the country for the next decade. 

Bisky shrugged and beckoned the team out. Ikalgo lingered for a bit, giving Killua a mixed expression before walking off. Finally alone, Killua collapsed into the nearest chair. 

“We did it,” he said to no one in particular. Funny, really, how he never accounted for that: if Gon got to the moon with Killua’s help, it would be just Gon. Someone had to hold the fort down after all. Killua never imagined his future like this, though — eternally designated to stare at the back of Gon’s head. 

Killua pulled out his phone and found an old recording of the concert at the Heaven’s Arena Symphony Hall.  “Hey, Killua!” Zushi’s voice crackled through the blurry video. He flipped the camera and waved, smiling. “Miss you! We’re going on stage soon.” He brought the phone to his face with a yelp as a teacher undoubtedly walked past. 

“Anyways, I hope you’re having fun at YSSA. It’s not the same without you. Our other cellists suck — don’t tell anyone I said that though! Don’t forget about us while you’re playing with rockets!” He winked and the video cut. 

“I miss you, too.” Killua stared at Zushi’s frozen face. He wondered if he had changed at all over their decade of distance. Was he a professional violinist now? Maybe his fingers got too long and Ms. Senritsu forced him into viola. Did he go into medicine? Poetry? Kickboxing?

He glanced up at the television that showed the inside of the rocket. Gon sat buckled in, indistinguishable from Knuckle and Meleoron. 

With a sigh, he leaned forward and announced, “Chimera IV is a go.”

***

“Killua!” Gon screamed over the deep space network. “This is—YOU are amazing!”

Killua wished he could blush a bit, or even swell with the praise. He tried to feel flustered, he did, but nothing came. Of course he’d still give — had given — life, love and everything for Gon. But sometimes there was a point where he gave too much, and it didn’t hurt anymore.  

“Having fun?” he teased instead. 

“This is actually insane.” Gon replied excitedly. “It doesn't feel real. I can’t believe I’m actually here. It’s so—“ He cut off. 

“It’s so what?” Killua raised his feet onto his spinning chair and tucked his knees under his chin. 

“Different.” Gon finished. 

“Not so fun-sized now, is it?” Killua laughed. “Sorry if the moon wasn’t quite up to your expectations.”

“It’s not just the moon,” Gon began. “It kind of feels like—“

“Hey! It’s my turn! Move it!”  

Killua snorted at Knuckle’s deep voice. He could hear shuffling and cursing as he and Gon no doubt fought for space to speak. 

Knuckle must have won out, because the next question Killua heard was, “You think we can bring more dogs up here? Or would that scare them?”

“DOGS AREN’T SUPPOSED TO GO ON THE MOON!” Gon yelled in the background. 

“NEITHER ARE HUMANS.” Knuckle screamed back. Killua felt his lips twitch. Gon might be some-400 thousand kilometers away, but the distance elapsed to mere inches with the volume and warmth of his voice reaching Killua. 

“Hey, guys?” Killua interrupted. He laid his head flat on the nearest desk, disregarding the miscellaneous stains and paper sheafs. 

“Yeah?” 

Killua closed his eyes. “I miss you.”

***

from saturn to mars 

***

Retz was a new shadow. 

Killua wouldn’t mind if she was better at doing the shadow part. Mainly, she followed Gon around and constantly pestered them about their plans. 

“Whatcha working on?” 

Killua jolted, clutching his scroll to his chest. “ Zodiacs, do not creep up on me like that!” He yelled. 

Retz danced a circle around him, hands clasped behind her back. How she found him in the music wing was a wonder on its own. 

“Sorry!” She apologized, looking not the least bit sorry. “I was looking for Zushi and then I heard someone playing, so I thought it was him. Figured I’d check it out,” she ducked her head. “It sounded real good.” 

“Oh, yes,” Killua grated his bow harshly against the C string, sprinkling motes of rosin. “Because this sounds exactly like a violin.”

Retz shrugged innocently. “Anyway, now that I’ve found you — do you know where Zushi is?” 

Killua hunched his shoulders, carefully setting his bow into his case and rising to his feet from the plastic chair. “He went home early.” His eyes flitted up, calculating. “So did Gon.” 

“Then what are you still doing here? I think the doors close soon.” 

“Melo—er, Ms. Senritsu said I could stay until five if I locked up. Some faculty hang around until six, so…”

Retz shuddered. “Imagine staying at school for that long, especially over the summer. I’d hate it.”

“You’re here though,” Killua pointed out, laying his cello into his case and snapping the clasps.

“Yeah, but that’s for the science team.”

Killua shrugged noncommittally and slipped his notes into his book bag. 

“Leaving now?” Retz asked. Killua chose to ignore the tremor in her voice. 

“Yes.” He rolled his eyes, slinging his cello across his back and heaving his bag over his shoulder. “You should head home, too.” 

Retz kicked her shoe into the ground, averting her eyes. “Walk me?” 

Killua withheld a sigh. “Fine.” 

It was normal for Killua and Gon to hang out at Aunt Mito’s place. At some point Retz started tagging along, much to Killua’s disdain, though they never hung out at her house due to vague warnings about a crappy older brother. 

Killua couldn’t quite put his finger on why she disturbed him so much. Maybe it was the way she felt just this side of familiarity, with her family and adoration of certain…sunshine. Maybe it was the way her lifeless blue eyes burned through his soul. Maybe it was the way he saw, in her expansive glassy pupils, his own lifeless blue eyes reflected. 

“Thank you!” She ran after him as he locked the door to the orchestra room and started down the steps. The empty halls echoed with their footsteps, the sunset spilling gold and red across the tiled floors.  

“How far do you live?” Killua asked, halfway out of the back exit. “I have to be home soon.” 

“Oh — my complex is one mile over from Gon’s!” Retz smiled. Killua swore he felt his lungs shrivel. No wonder they’d grown so close. It wasn’t like Killua could help living on the other half of the city, though the two constantly bemoaned his neighborhood being the wealthiest in Yorkshin. 

“Okay.” Killua said. He normally wouldn’t go so far for Retz, but he had little sisters, jeez, and he’d never let them walk home alone when night was about to fall. 

Retz stuck her thumbs into her overalls and skipped ahead of Killua, tilting her head back against the warm July zephyrs. She jogged back to match pace with him every few seconds. They walked another block before reaching the bus stop. 

“I appreciate it.” Retz blurted out as Killua landed heavily on the bench. She sat down next to him, a respectful few inches between them. 

“Don’t sweat it.” He rolled his eyes, not feeling up for another overexcited conversation with her. Whenever her gaze went feverishly bright he just knew she was going to launch into a random rant about the most irrelevant thing ever. 

“It’s just scary sometimes. Well—” She cut off. “I know you don’t like me. You didn’t have to do this. Apparently I’m not all that passing, so I’d manage.” She flexed her bicep and gave a weak smile. 

Killua tightened his fist around the strap of his case. “I don’t hate you.” He started.

“It’s okay, really.” Retzu bumbled. “I get it. I mean. It’s me.” She gazed down at her fingers, which brutally picked each other in her lap. 

Killua glanced at her from the side of his eye, staying quiet. It was obvious she was trying to say something, whatever that might be. 

“Just don’t get mad at Gon for being nice to me.” Retz’s face went beet red. “He’s just — he’s so sweet.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Killua pitched forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He refused to look up, because he knew the crescent moon was just glistening in mockery at him. The sun had long since died. 

“He’s the first person who hasn’t had a problem with me.” Retz finally bit out. “So don’t take it out on him for being a good guy, okay?” 

“What?” Killua sat up sharply. “What?”  

“Come on, Killua. I see the way you glare at him whenever he so much as — when he looks at me. Just…try to be more open-minded. I can’t help it that—“ 

“Whoa, whoa, stop.” He held up a hand, paying no mind to the bus rolling into the stop. “Why exactly do you think I ‘don’t like you?’”

Retz stared at him. She gave the pin on her shirt a solid tap. Killua narrowed his eyes at the white, pink and blue stripes for a moment. 

“Oh — you—–” Killua paused. “Seriously? You think I don’t like you because you’re a girl? Are you kidding me?” 

The bus doors hissed open. The driver called out something to them, but Killua ignored him. 

“It’s kind of obvious.” Retz deadpanned. 

“You,” Killua began, trying to gather his thoughts. “Have got to be the dumbest person I’ve ever met. I don’t hate you because you’re trans! I hate you because you’re fucking annoying!” 

Retz froze, as if her pea brain was still processing the admission. “Huh?”

“My sister is trans, idiot! You’ve met her!” Killua pulled at his hair. “You think I, what, secretly hate Alluka, too? Wow. I am absolutely astounded. I don’t think I’ve ever known someone so self-centered. Of all the reasons you’d think I don’t like you for, that was the best you came up with?” 

Retz gawked, a faint tint of pink blooming up her neck. “Well excuse me, Mr. Prodigy! Most people do hate me for that. It’s kind of hard to pick from your list of reasons! Maybe be more clear next time, huh?”

“Are you two getting on or not?” The bus driver shouted. “This is the only line that comes by here!”

“Shut up!” Retz and Killua yelled back in frightening synchronization. They stopped. Glared at each other. Inched apart a bit more. 

The doors snapped shut and the bus drove off. 

“Look,” Killua sighed, digging his nails into his arm and taking a deep breath. “I didn’t handle that right. I don’t give a shit about whatever your gender is.” He pointed an accusing finger at her. “I just think you’re bothersome, all clingy and following Gon around like he’s your savior.” 

Retz hesitated. “But that’s exactly what you—”

“No, just shut up.” Killua interrupted. “Not right now. Please. Since apparently we need to clarify that your personality sucks, not your identity.” 

“That’s so—” Retz made a sharp noise, and it took Killua a second to realize it was a laugh. 

“What?” He snapped, defensive. His face grew hot, even though he had no reason to be embarrassed since Retz was the one causing a scene. Right? “Something funny?” 

Retz shook her head, wiping at her eyes with shaking hands. God, was she crying? Killua hadn’t been that mean, had he? 

“Look, I — uh—” he helplessly held out his hands. “I’m sorry. That was super rude, I don’t know why I said that. Look, you can hang out with Gon…and us…however much you want, okay? I didn’t mean to — fuck, uh…don’t cry. I’m sorry,” he winced.

Retz sobbed out another wet laugh. “You’re such a jerk.” She punched his shoulder weakly. Killua let her. 

“I’m sorry.” he finished rather weakly. “Just don’t cry. I don’t know what to do.” Tears were not exactly Killua’s specialty, given that he’d been taught, alongside his siblings, to suppress them at every given moment. 

“It’s fine.” Retz scrubbed her forearm across her face. “I’m just — glad.” 

“Glad.” Killua echoed. 

“That’s the first time someone’s ever been so honest with me,” she admitted. 

Tentatively, Killua asked, “Not Gon?” 

“No, he’s great!” Retz waved her hands wildly. “Just that —– I know I’m not special or anything. That’s just him, for being kind, and stuff. I’m lucky to be included in his circle, I guess? But I know it’s not because of me. He just does that super easily. Gon loves everyone, I think, which sucks sometimes.” 

Killua glared at the ground. “Yeah. I get that.”

Silence. 

“The next bus doesn’t come for another twenty minutes.” Retz broke in. Killua groaned and stood. 

“Yeah, we can walk it. Don’t worry, I’ll–” he looked away. “I’ll still bring you home.” he hurried out of the bus stop and down the street. 

“So you really don’t hate me, then?” Retz tried, matching his stride. 

“No.” Killua chewed on his lip. “But I don’t like you, either.” 

“I…” Retz ran a hand through her hair. “…I will take that. Neutrality is my strong suit.” Killua scoffed. She forced out a flimsy smile and held out her hand. “Truce?”

Killua knocked her hand away and punched her shoulder. He gave the smallest of smirks. “Whatever.”

***

“Who’s ready?” Ms. Baise asked, raising her arms with a flair that was quite uncalled for. She was greeted with cheers from every kid in the orchestra. “That’s right! Our concert is in one week! We have just one full-orchestra rehearsal before we head over to play!” 

There were hushed murmurs as students discussed animatedly with each other — nerves drenched in excited anticipation. Killua barely suppressed a grin. It felt so unreal, that he was here now, about to play before an audience of a hundred-some people. He glanced over at Zushi across the room, who was sweating buckets. 

“Remember: July 31st at the HASH! Everyone better be there! If there are any complications regarding commute or availability, let me know now!” She waved her hands in dismissal. “Now get some sleep, ya nerds!” 

Killua scurried to Gon’s house as soon as camp was over, rocking on his heels as he waited outside the door. 

“Hey, Killua,” Mito opened the door and smiled at him. “I assume you’re here about the tour? Gon’s been bouncing off the walls about it!”

Killua froze in his tracks. “Tour?” 

Mito beckoned him inside with a dazzling, ever-unaware smile. 

He rushed into Gon’s room with a broad grin. Killua didn’t realize his heart was going to be trampled on and extensively digested in pancreatic enzymes until he heard Gon say the words, 

“The tour is on the 31st!”

All previous joy at the mention of a job at YSSA promptly dematerialized. 

“Isn’t this great?” Gon gushed. “It took me forever to get the contacts. I had to talk to some guys who knew my da—who knew Ging. They say we can meet them late in the afternoon. They’ll give us a tour and ask us about our experiences and interests in stuff! We might even get to see the Chimera II take off!”

Gon’s excitement poured through one of Killua’s ears and out the other. Sure, they’d been eagerly awaiting the launch of the Chimera II for months now but…

But not on that exact day. It wasn’t—it shouldn’t—

“But the launch is on the first.” Killua said dumbly, because he refused to acknowledge anything else, refused to even think about the new looming threat of a decision. A choice.  

“We got the time zones messed up,” Gon explained, hands gesticulating in his energy. “Since we were looking at the Mitene Union hours. But this is for YSSA. Oh, it’s going to be so cool!”

It took Killua a moment to realize that Gon was missing one very key and specific thing: asking Killua if he even wanted to go. 

“I…”

“So, you’ll be ready on the 31st, right?” Gon grinned. Golden gaze upturned, expectant, trusting, like he could lay the world at Killua’s feet and trust he’d be given the utmost care in the world. 

Once again, all Killua could think was wow. 

How could he say no to the suns in those eyes?

“Of course.” Killua nodded. “Of course, Gon. I’ll be there. Whenever you ask.” 

Whatever you want. 

***

He needed an excuse. 

(An excuse to give to Ms. Baise and Ms. Senritsu as to why he was going to miss the concert, not as to why his eyes were puffy and red and leaking all sorts of strange liquids.) 

“I’ll say I’m sick.” Killua proposed, clenching his fingers into a fist. “Right?”

“Why don’t you just tell your teacher the truth?” Alluka rolled onto her back so she could watch Killua upside-down from the bed. Nanika nodded in agreement from where she perched on the windowsill. 

“I can’t.” Killua shook his head. “She’d kill me. They’d both be so disappointed.”

“Are you disappointed?” She pressed. 

Time slowed, took a deep breath, stopped. Killua tried — failed — to do the same. “Of course not.”

“Brother, you always tell me lying is bad. Was that a lie?” Alluka frowned. 

Killua frowned. He raised his little sister to be far too sharp. “Sorry, Alluka. It’s just…I don’t want to make anyone sad, you know? If I go to the concert, Gon will be sad. If I miss the concert, then…”

“You’ll be sad?” Nanika asked softly. 

“No!” Killua gasped, horrified. “Ms. Senritsu would be—um, Zushi—Baise—“ 

“It’s okay to want things, remember?” Alluka smiled. He’d said the same to her when she had burst into tears after a punishment in the form of a haircut left her just barely grasping her own self. 

“Yeah.” Killua shuddered. “I’d be sad, since I really tried to put in effort for these pieces. But that’s really selfish.” He sighed. “I’ll just go to the stupid YSSA thing.”

“Why don’t you do what you want to do?” Alluka tumbled into the floor and sat straight up, legs crossed. 

“Well—“ Killua avoided her persistent gaze. “It’s complicated.”

“I don’t think it is,” Alluka shook her head. 

Nanika said, “People like to twist things up just to make them fit, but sometimes they get so twisted they forget what it was in the first place”

That was probably the longest sentence she’d spoken all week. Killua looked down at the scratchy carpet. His sisters were far too wise for their age.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said. “I’ll figure it out. I shouldn’t be pushing this on you two.”

“Killua,” Nanika began, voice soft and quiet. 

“We can help you too sometimes, Brother.” Alluka grinned. “Right, Nanika?”

“Yes. We can help Killua. Killua needs help.” She tiptoed down beside him, latching onto his arm and curling into his side like a cat. 

He hugged her, tight. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much. It’s hard coming back——but I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

Nanika nodded with wide eyes. Even Alluka slipped next to them, leaning into Nanika’s shoulder.  

“I love you two a lot.” Killua announced. “So no matter what I choose, I’ll always be happy. It’s fine. It’s just one concert—space is so much cooler!” 

Nanika mumbled under her breath and Alluka gave him her finest glare, but Killua had already made up his mind. He’d find an excuse for Ms. Baise later…

If it came down to his own future or Gon, then it wasn’t even a question. The answer was obvious, and he’d pick it again and again in every lifetime if he had to. 

After all, even if Killua could not give it, Gon deserved the sky. 

Chapter Text

***

as much as it seems like you own my heart 

***

“We’re going to collect some rock samples, and before you tell me that’s against the law, it’s not.” Bisky announced. “According to the third article, we’re legally allowed to extract a maximum of three kilograms to bring back down.”

Killua deadpanned. “Literally who asked?”

Ikalgo snickered. Bisky aimed a chop at Killua, but he dodged and she hit the poor shorter man instead. “The guys we shot up there? Just a thought.”

“How are you gonna make sure it’s to the T?” Ikalgo asked, clutching his scalp under his hands with a wince. 

Killua said, “We can work out the conversions later, and aim a little lower. Better safe than sorry.” 

“True.” Bisky nodded. “Ah, they grow up so fast. From janitor to—“

Killua glared. “Yeah, just like you, hag from the cradle, I guess.”

There was no escaping the hit now. 

“As I was saying, we can send up the numbers soon. Ikalgo, can you get Dr. Kurta? I’d like to talk with him.”

“So what’s so special about moon rocks anyway?” Killua asked with a yawn. Lately, all-nighters had happened more often than not. 

“Moon rocks, he says.” Bisky growled. “That’s one way to put it. We think they hold a lot more energy. If we could harvest those…” she swept an arm rather dramatically to gesture across the room. “We’d power all of Yorkshire for a year.”

Killua gaped. “No, really?”

A broad grin began to form in her face. She probably was glad he was starting to like science, or pretending to anyway. It was hard to avoid basic principles that weren’t exactly exclusive to the space station, however, no matter how hard he tried. 

Killua finished, “Really, who ask—“

Bisky cracked her knuckles. Killua screamed. 

***

It’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart

***

“What the hell is this?” Illumi’s voice was cold, dripping out of the shadows and startling Killua on his way downstairs.

“What is what?” Killua turned around slowly, watching Illumi grip a paper in his hand. 

“Music? Really?” He huffed, and through his crinkled fist Killua could just make out the scored lines of eighth notes.

“Father said it was fine.” Killua gritted out. “I passed all my classes last year, remember?”

“Yes, and you’re heading into tenth grade.” Illumi asserted, always frigid, emotionless and abysmal in his words. “You don’t have time for nonsense like this.”

“It’s just on the side,” Killua protested weakly. “I swear I’m studying. It’s not a big deal. A hobby.” 

“Really? If I go check your room right now, I won’t find your junior district flyer?”

Killua’s face went white. He lunged up the stairwell, scrambling for his room, but Illumi was ahead of him. He barely squeezed in before the door was slammed shut — he knew it was over. He jumped at Illumi’s raised hands as he loudly read off the paper Ms. Senristu had given him in May, about his application. 

“You don’t have time for distractions.” Illumi said calmly, cleanly tearing the paper in half. 

“Illumi, please.” Killua begged as his brother stormed to the corner of his room, to the music stand. He picked up the bow resting on it, running his thumb down the rosin-dusted horsehairs. He tested his thumb against the middle of the bow, like it was a pencil. 

“Kil…” 

“Illumi! Brother! I’ll stop! I’ll stop, okay? Just don’t do any—” 

SNAP.  

Killua froze. He broke it, he broke it, he broke it, hebrokeit, hebrokeithebrokeithebrokeit. 

Illumi dropped both halves of the bow, brushing past Killua. He placed an oppressive hand atop his head. Killua’s heart ceased beating. 

“You can’t do anything, Kil.” he explained in a pitying tone, as if Killua were a child wondering why his blood ran red. “You can’t do anything, so don’t go on thinking you have talent. You can’t play music. You aren’t skilled, or good, or worthy.”

Killua felt fingers dig into his scalp, nails pricking blood. He broke it. He broke it. He broke it. He broke it. He broke it. 

“You broke it.” He said dumbly, still staring at the pieces of glistening wood, strung together by frayed hairs. He wasn’t really surprised by Illumi’s strength. Of course he’d be able to crack a cello bow like a twig. But –— “You broke it.”

“No, Killua.” Illumi’s hand left his head, instead resting on his shoulder. “I fixed it. You’re worthless, really, and if you want to make that up to us you need to work hard. Get good grades — it’s not much to ask of you, really. Stay focused. If you can get through into the business, well…you can consider picking at your lackluster abilities then.” 

“You—” 

Illumi was already gone. 

***

Killua always hated the bright side idiom. Searching for a bright side in a time of darkness was like saying “wow, the sun is so warm!” when you're half-dead from hypothermia. 

But, on the bright side: he finally had a real excuse to skip the concert. 

Right. Bright side.

“How is that,” Killua ranted. “The fucking bright side? My brother breaks my instrument! Hooray! I have an excuse to not go to the concert I’ve been anticipating for weeks! Hell yeah!”

“You shouldn’t swear so much.” Retz admonished. 

“Oh, right, ‘cause you’re just a ray of sunshine.” Killua frowned, sitting down beside on the floor. 

She grinned, placing a palm to her chest. “That I am.” 

He glared. “Do you have any useful advice? Or do you just sit here all day in your own misery?”

“Are you…projecting?” Retz tried. Killua growled and stood back up, pacing another circle around Gon’s room. 

Speak of the devil. 

“Hey people!” Gon slid back into the room, carrying a tray of lemonade glasses. He set down three cups, scooting beside Retz on the floor. She gave him a side-eye and looked back up at Killua. With a defeated groan, he squatted back down. 

“Did I miss something?” Gon asked, slurping on his lemonade. Killua took an enormous gulp of his drink, not sure when he’d get vitamin C next if Illumi was still pissed about the music thing.

“Nope.” He replied while Retz said, “Only so much.” 

“Good. Because guess what Killua? Our meeting is in a few days! Ahh, this is so exciting!” 

Retz winced. “Right. Hey, Gon, do you still have any summer work left to do? Why don’t we start on that now!” 

Gon nodded and set aside his cup, busily pulling open his backpack. Retz winked at Killua. He gave a halfhearted albeit grateful nod. Gon took out a stack’s worth of summer mathwork, all in preparation for tenth grade. (He was, in fact, retaking ninth grade math, because he rejected Killua’s tutoring after declaring that he had to do it himself. Killua had an inkling Gon’s mindset would change any day now.) 

“So, hit me with it: how do I use letters in math?”

Retz facepalmed. Killua allowed himself a weak laugh. 

***

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T GO?!” Zushi bellowed, water bottle clanging across the ground as he dropped it in surprise. Killua stooped to pick it up, watching liquid slide down the side onto the floor. He passed it back to Zushi and leaned against the wall, urging him to continue filling it.

“I mean exactly what it sounds like,” Killua shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek. He had to play it cool. Stay calm. Like he didn’t give a damn. All nonchalant, totally not caring if he was missing something he genuinely wanted to go to, the first time since second grade he’d felt a jump of hope that things might go his way, et cetera or whatever.

Zushi tucked his bottle back into his bag, and they left the water fountain, heading for the music wing. “But why? You can’t leave me all alone! You’ve been wanting this for ages! Besides, the cellists can’t survive without you!” 

He reached over and violently shook Killua’s shoulders, though it was a bit of a stretch since Zushi was a full five inches shorter than him. 

“Yeah, I know, I’m the real star,” Killua smirked, gently tugging Zushi off.

“You’re joking,” Zushi began. “You’re joking, but it’s true. How come you can’t go?”

Killua faltered. “Uh, my bow is broken.”

“Oh no!” Zushi yelped. Then he gave a relieved sigh. “Jeez, I'm so glad that’s it. I’m sure Ms. Baise can fix it up for you in no time! She’s really handy – she helped me with mine just a day ago.”

“Zushi, it’s split in half.” Killua deadpanned, throat tickling uncomfortably. Guilt? Nausea? Greed? Why did he feel so sick? It shouldn’t matter that he broke something precious, or that he had to skip out on this. Right? Killua shouldn’t want things. 

Zushi stumbled. “How did that happen? Aren’t you super careful with your stuff?” 

Killua frowned. “Not really,” he lied. 

“Oh, yeah, super irresponsible, just casually broke a cello bow in half? Do you know what kind of force that would take?” 

Killua blanched. “Um…a lot?”

“Just how strong are you, anyway?” 

“I didn’t break it,” Killua rolled his eyes without missing a beat, and then realized. “I mean. Uh. I did. All me. Yup.”

Zushi slowed just as they came to the band room. He turned to stare at Killua rather seriously. “Did something — no, did someone break your bow? Who would do that? No, never mind that! Ms. Baise can give you a spare! See, it’s all good—” 

“Zushi, give it a rest.” Killua whispered. “I can’t go, okay? I have…I’m busy. And stuff.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Zushi inspected his face carefully, voice breaking. 

Killua nodded rapidly. “Of course!”

“Then why are you lying to me?” 

“I can’t — not right now. Just not now, Zushi. I can’t go, and that’s that. Just thought I’d give you a heads up so you didn't think I was an asshole.” 

“But you are an asshole.” Zushi’s eyebrows were downturned so grimly, Killua hesitated. He went on, “Tell me you haven’t been coasting through this camp for the hell of it. Don’t you want the opportunities? We’ll get our names out there! And that’s only possible at the concert!” 

“I have a future.” Killua said with as much force as he could, the words ripped straight from Illumi. 

“There will be scouts, Killua!” Zushi shouted. Killua felt sick to his stomach. Scouts? A real future? If he just fucking showed up? How was it possible that everything could be ruined so easily? 

“No, Zushi.” Killua shoved out, voice like acid on his tongue. “There’s this science thing. At YSSA. It’s the first step to getting further into STEM, into things that will actually…”

“Actually what?” Zushi snarled. “Make you money? Because that’s all that matters? Not what you want to do?”

“That’s not how life works!” Killua yelled, skin prickling. Why was Zushi getting angry? It wasn’t his fault his family was so…so…

“Gee, I never knew, Killua. Excuse me for trying to follow my actual dreams instead of gargling whatever the hell others feed me! Thanks for giving me the career-bullshit since you’re just so much better than us. I bet you think we’re a bunch of losers for going through with music — for trying to live our lives, for ourselves.”

“That makes no sense.” Killua's mouth grew dry. He knew, in a way, exactly what Zushi was trying to say. But picking at it would only hurt more. Best to shove down this idle daydream, get cracking on the real hopes. 

“I thought you—” he cut himself off, fingers curled into tight fists. “I thought I could get you to live for yourself, you know? Instead of living for….” 

“I am.” Killua protested. He dug his nails into his palms. “It’s just that, well, this YSSA thing is super important to me, too, okay? Please let me love more than one thing.”

“Why do you have to choose?” Zushi whispered. “That’s not fair.”

“I know. I wish things could be different.” Killua looked to the side, teeth drawing out to gnaw on his lip. 

“Then choose differently.” Zushi pressed, a new raw desperation in his eyes. In a twisted way, Killua felt wanted. He was needed there, in those golden grandiose halls, echoing canopies of brass that made his bones sing with music, a place he’d never go. He was wanted by the people he’d probably never see again. 

“I’m not going, Zushi.” Killua shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

***

“Hello! My name is Dr. Palm Siberia. Thank you so much for filling out our survey and coming to meet me here today,” The woman was paler than Killua, with matted black hair and sharp blue eyes. Gon gave her a sunbeam smile for which she glowed. Killua kicked him under the table. 

“Thanks for having us, Dr. Siberia!” Gon waved his hand and kicked back. “I’m super excited to be here.” 

“Oh, please, call me Palm,” she smiled. “I’m only in-training now, but I’ve been instructed to give you boys a tour of the building, and you’ll get to meet the other scientists afterwards. We’ll all watch the lift-off together.”

“Cool.” Killua deadpanned. He could almost hear ghosts of music winding up the halls as she escorted them out of the waiting room and down the pristine hallways. The Yorkshin Space Association was specific to Yorkshin, of course, and obviously Gon had bigger dreams. But for now, he had to try to set his eyes to this task ahead of him. For Gon. Even if it was a struggle. 

Dr. Siberia, or Palm, showed them a dark room full of glowing computer screens where they received messages from rovers. She took them through various conference rooms, where they got to watch frazzly-haired scientists scrape chalk in messy scrawls over cheap blackboards, purple eyebags countered by wonderment in their animated gazes. 

It was fascinating to see people so in their element, so comfortable in their craft. For a millisecond, Killua let himself wonder what he looked like when he sat in crappy school chairs and played the cello till he couldn’t feel his fingertips anymore. Only for a millisecond, though. Soon, he’d have to abandon these delusions. Illumi was right. Illumi was always right.

“And now, meet our main team for this project! Of course everyone is chipping in,” Palm announced, bringing them to yet another monitoring room, only this one had many more mugs of half-drunk coffee and younger scientists than the mathematicians in the other rooms. 

“Wow, wow, wow,” Gon gushed, examining everything in the room from the chairs to the notes on the whiteboards to the people themselves. Much to Killua’s disappointment, no one was dressed in crazy white lab coats, wearing rubber gloves, or carrying precariously perched beakers of neon green liquid. They all wore sweatpants, gross stained hoodies, and an overall vibe of year-long depression attire. 

“Here, you can sit,” Palm smiled and pointed to a plastic chair. Killua one hundred percent did not like the smiles she gave Gon, but whatever. He’d be the buffer. As Gon sat down, he squeezed in next to him, ribs pinching uncomfortably against the armrest. Someone played an ancient tune on the radio and all the scientists sang aloud together, watching the Chimera II blast off in a haze of gray smoke. Zushi was probably sore from smiling, or playing for hours as he and the others practiced. They’d be heading into the Heaven’s Arena Symphony Hall soon.

“Killua! Killua, look!” Gon grabbed his arm, pointing to the screen and acting like the xith-grader who first pitched an impossible dream to Killua, the sixth-grader who landed him in this well of misery. 

Gon’s eyes glittered with anticipation. It was enough to kickstart Killua’s brain. He shoved all thoughts of the symphony out of his mind, and focused on the rocket torpedoing upwards in front of them. He returned Gon’s grin with equal fervor, forcing his face to squeeze up in joy.

“I’m looking, Gon,” Killua let him dig his fingers into his arm until he lost sensation in his bicep.

“It’s—” Gon whispered, voice snapping down the middle halfway up his sentence. Killua nodded, training his eyes on Gon, beautiful Gon, dazzling Gon, Gon worth all the sacrifices in the world. 

“I know, Gon.” He placed a hand over Gon’s and imagined the rough skin beneath him was polished wood and refined strings and delicate song. “I know.” 

***

From far away, I wish I’d stayed with you

***

Zushi sent a video clip of him at the HASH. Killua smiled when he watched it. Zushi was right, that Killua was different from him, but only in the way that he’d never be brave enough to dive headfirst into his dreams. 

The rest of summer passed by quickly. It had been a long one, but Killua felt his bones grating as the vacation screeched to an end and they once again entered school. Of course, most of his summer had been spent on campus, but at least he didn’t have class. He jumped into chemistry and tried to enjoy it, since it’d be his ticket to working at YSSA, or even further perhaps if Gon wanted to go international. 

Zushi didn’t ignore him as expected. He started hanging out more, with Killua and Gon and regrettably Retz. At least Zushi’s blatant crush on her got Retz to let up a bit on her tailing. (Why Killua expected that Zushi hated him was unknown. Or not. Maybe it was the betrayed look in his friend’s eyes when Killua explained his other dreams were simply more important, worth more, than anything Zushi could dream up. He’d just been quoting Illumi. But Illumi was always right…)

Actually, all of the friends he made at junior districts chorused around him and wept over how he couldn’t make it. Killua shared their sentiments with a grain of awkward laughter, because he knew it’d only be a matter of days before Illumi forced him to cut off all connections to music, to friends. He’d always have Gon, though, so it was okay if he lost these other asteroids. Right? Right. 

“We miss you so much,” Zushi griped, dropping his head onto his desk halfway through their English class. 

Killua twirled his pencil over his finger. “I miss you guys, too,” he parroted, eyes narrowing as he looked down at his work. He couldn’t slack off anymore. It was time to get serious. Time to start succeeding instead of just not-failing. 

“I still can’t believe you dropped music…” Zushi trailed off.

“Uh-uh.” Killua attempted another trick with his pencil. “Not gonna happen, dude. I can’t join orchestra again. That ship has sailed, burned, and drowned.” 

“How can a ship drown?” Zushi asked, readily distracted.

Killua rolled his eyes. “I think you’re missing the point. I have to focus on science now.” Besides, he’d already sold his cello even though it had taken him all of middle school to save up enough money from odd jobs to buy it in the first place. He raked off a good 4,000 from it; he probably could have gotten more if the bow was…in one piece. 

“I wish I could strangle you sometimes, you know that?” Zushi groaned. “It’s obvious to literally everyone you hate the stupid chem course.” 

“I do not.” Killua defended. “I love it. I’m going to be a chemist.” 

“Bull.” Zushi pointed an accusing finger. “Ugh. Why do I even try?” 

Killua patted his head sympathetically. “You’re a good man, Zushi. A good man.” 

Zushi laughed and shoved his hand off. “Yeah, okay. Do your classwork!”

“Ys, sir,” Killua saluted with his pencil. 

“Oh, and one more thing,” Zushi added. “My dad wants to meet you guys.”

Killua smirked. “Oh, I get to meet the parents? So forward!” to which Zushi shoved him for. He laughed, Zushi threw a pencil at him, he laughed a little bit more, and laughed until his sides hurt and he could forget whatever had stopped him from laughing in the first place. 

***

Wing, Zushi’s father, was kind to say the least. He gave the four kids a surplus of snacks like they were back in kindergarten, quizzed them comically on their favorite martial arts movies, and not once mentioned the hell-freezing word college. He was a pediatrician and hadn’t forced his career onto Zushi in the way most doctors did, but they apparently did kickboxing together. A weird father-son hobby, but interesting nonetheless.  

Later, the rest of them hung out in Zushi’s compact room full of frog-keychains and…

“Is that,” Killua stared blankly. “A guitar?”

Zushi’s face darkened with embarrassment as he frantically tried to cover up the case. Killua teased him ruthlessly for being a traitor to the violin, and it only got worse when they unearthed his personal journal from beneath a pile of unfolded laundry.

“NO!” Zushi shrieked, snatching the book out of Retz’s hands before she could open it. “It’s, um, private.”

“A diary?” Gon asked. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

“Sort of.” Zushi relented, still clutching the book like a lifeline. “My therapist said I should use it. It helps, I guess?”

“I could never get into it,” Retz shook her head. “I’d rather not end up rereading graphic accounts of all my worst days, you know?”

“I don’t do, like…daily entries.” Zushi shrugged, somehow turning redder. “It’s just…” he trailed off, mumbling something quietly. 

Killua leaned in, genuinely curious. “What?”

“Oh, don’t make me say it again,” he whined, fingers scraping along the book. The three gave him direct stares. He gave in easily, “It’s poetry!”

Zushi let them read his work, explaining that his therapist Basho had gotten into psychology from poetry itself, a fact which Killua had zero understanding of. But it made him happy to know that Zushi had a whole other life, a whole other world out there, and had decided to let Killua in. Killua already knew Gon’s world inside and out like the back of his own hand, but not anyone else’s.

It was…nice. 

Surrounded by Retz’s horrendous laughter, Zushi’s trepid smile, and Gon’s perpetual glow, Killua felt a little bit warmer. Even if Zushi constantly brought up the cello, or Retz ogled Gon like he was the sun — which he was, but whatever — and even if Killua felt the tiniest bit ostracized from the fire-hot orbiting lives that sat in a circle around him. Where there was joy, and laughter, and family, spoken easily over lips, Killua had to wrack his brain for happy memories. 

“There’s Alluka, of course,” He said when Zushi brought up relatives. 

“She’s the sweetest thing in the world,” Retz supplied. 

“Not a thing.” Killua corrected almost automatically. Everyone stared at him, so he tried to laugh it off, and failed horrendously. 

“You got, like, any annoying siblings?” Retz piped up. “My brother is soooo overprotective, it’s actually bothersome. One time he got into a fight in a comment section because someone called me dude.”

“Ugh, annoying siblings? I’ve only got three more of them.” Killua rolled his eyes. “My oldest brother is an absolute menace, and the second child? Forget it. He’s angry all the time, but I can’t exactly blame him for that.”

He was given confused looks around the room, so he hastily added, “Alluka and Nanika are great. They’re twins, and definitely the least favorite in the family, which is sad since they’re so awesome.”

“Alluka has a twin?” Gon asked, surprised. Killua didn’t tell many about Nanika, since she was generally as despised as Alluka, if not more, by his parents. 

“Yes.” Killua started slowly. “Fraternal, but they might as well be identical.”

“You said you had three annoying siblings?” Zushi asked. “I could not imagine having a sibling, let alone five.” 

“My youngest brother is like. Totally creepy.” Killua shuddered, thinking of Kalluto’s dead eyes. Yet he was only a child. “But I feel bad for him; it’s not his fault he was brainwashed into thinking his childhood was normal.”

“Normal?” Retz repeated. 

The conversation screeched to a halt. Killua scrambled for words. “Uh. I mean. It’s just — you know." he finished lamely. 

Gon, ever the savior, swooped in. “Yeah, I met Killua’s younger brother some time ago. He just doesn't fit in, I guess? So he wasn’t the most welcomed at school.”

“Right.” Zushi nodded. “Makes sense.”

Killua shot him a grateful look. He really didn’t feel like explaining the Basement to Retz and Zushi, who had a loving brother and father respectively. Gon smiled, a little, and Killua swore he’d need sunscreen to avoid getting burnt by that brilliance. 

How could he ever resent Gon, kindness incarnate? The rest of the hangout, Killua felt weightless, dare he say happy. Things weren’t perfect, but they were still pretty damn fine. 

***

but here face to face, a stranger that I once knew

***

“Are you 100% sure the maximum is three kilograms?” Killua bit on his fingernails, squatting in his rotating chair and watching the screen. 

“Yes, Killua, I’m sure.” Bisky groaned. “Look it up if you doubt me so much.” 

When Killua pulled out his phone and opened a search engine she gasped. 

“Have you no faith in me?”

Killua tilted his phone to show her the third clause of the Heaven’s Exploration laws. “No more than 2.5 kilograms of external material may be imported onto the planet in one mission.” 

Bisky paled. “Oh. Good thing you checked.”

“Zodiacs above, Krueger, isn’t this your job?” Kurapika sighed, facepalming. “Can you imagine the legal trouble we’d have on our backs if you brought that back? Think about how much one gram of that stuff is worth.” 

“But it’s for research!” She protested. “When I worked on the Chimera I the astronauts were even allowed to bring back some for themselves, as souvenirs, so long as they didn’t sell anything.”

“You worked on the first Chimera?” Killua cackled. “You’re older than I thought!”

Kurapika gently intervened before things could get violent. “Well, they probably amended that rule because those astronauts did sell their souvenirs.” 

“Pariston would never — actually, never mind, I could totally see that.” Bisky frowned. “Well, send the message up. Let’s just bring back two kilos to be safe, okay?” 

Killua was already typing. “Done and done. Now give those dumbasses instructions, step-by-step with pictures, maybe.” 

“So crude.” Kurapika commented. “They had to be smart enough to become astronauts, anyway, you do realize that right?” 

Killua shrugged. “Anyone can volunteer to be expendable. Isn’t it the brains down here that send them up to space?” 

“Everyone does their part.” Kurapika asserted firmly, lips pressed into a thin line. “I figured you’d be more respectful since it’s Gon up there.”

“What does that mean?” Killua frowned. Hadn’t he done most of the work between him and his…best friend…to even land a job at HXH? 

“Stop, stop, it’s three in the morning.” Bisky interrupted with a weary groan, reminding Killua of his own exhaustion. His sleep schedule had been fucked since high school, though, so it didn’t make much of a difference for him. “I really don’t want to deal with Zoldyck’s emotional repression right now.”

“I am not repressed!” Killua argued. 

“Dr. Kurta, alert Bine to begin the extraction in the Aristarchus crater.” 

Kurapika nodded and headed off. Killua stuck his tongue out at the man’s receding back. 

“So childish,” Bisky muttered not-so-under her breath. “Now come on. We have work to do.”

“When don’t we?” Killua grumbled, pulling up pixelated cubes of the moon’s surface. Together they worked to piece them together and formed a half-decent picture. It was much better than ten years ago, and the decade before, but still grainy. His back hurt from hunching over once they’d gotten all of the tiny squares in one sheet. 

Bisky left and returned a minute later with a cup of hot coffee, placing it on Killua’s desk. 

“You know I don’t drink that shit,” he scoffed, downloading the photo. 

“Anything else you’d prefer, Your Highness?” Bisky droned, taking her own cup and sitting down beside him. 

“Hot chocolate.” Killua admitted, truthfully. Bisky snorted and pushed the mug in his direction. One good pinch of his inner elbow was enough to get him upright and awake, though. They worked well into the night, communicating with the astronauts as they carefully packaged the rocks. Only at seven in the morning did Bisky clap his shoulder and let him know he could go home. 

“I’ll stay,” He blurted, gesturing to his worn down sleeping bag. It wasn’t unusual to tuck in under the desks, or for all the scientists to shove aside the large table in the conference room and lay down together like it was a slumber party. Besides, he didn’t really want to go back to his empty apartment. Alluka was staying with Canary for the week, and sometimes the walls just echoed too much  

“Are you sure? Everyone else is heading home, except for Kurapika. You know he’ll be up for two more days straight before he collapses.” 

“Yes, killing people,” Killua joked. Bisky gave him a side-eye. She bustled over to her own backpack and ripped out her thin sleeping bag and laid it down in the far corner of the room. 

“What are you doing, hag? Don’t you have grandkids to attend to?”

“Very funny.” Bisky grumbled, shucking off her jacket and sliding into the makeshift bed.  As Killua fluffed up his own, he grinned at her. 

“You’re one zip away from being in a body bag.” 

She rolled on her side, back to him, elbow cushioning her head. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a real comedian. Get some rest, tyke.” 

Killua snickered, settling down. “Yes, ma’am.”

He fell asleep easily for once, without nightmares, to Bisky’s raspy breathing. 

It was comforting to not be alone. It only reminded him of his last night turning in at work, back when Gon was still beside him. Still breathing the same air, looking at the same skies. 

***

It had been a week or so before the launch, curled up under a too-small desk. 

“I’m nervous,” Gon said, eyes unbelievably bright even in the dark room. Killua shushed him repeatedly; the others were sleeping in the same room, all wrecked from the inside out by a terribly long day of work. 

“Nervous for what?” Killua whispered back, ignoring the way Gon’s body lined up perfectly with his in the sleeping bag. 

“You know. Going up.”

“You’ve been training for over two years for this.” Killua reminded him, closing his eyes and daring to lean his head on Gon’s shoulder. It was familiar, warm, perfectly curved just for Killua. “What’s there to be scared of?”

“I didn’t say I was scared. ” Gon corrected crossly, hand sliding up under the polyester to settle in Killua’s hair. It took all his self-control not to sigh when gentle fingers combed down his scalp. “I said I was nervous. Of course I’m excited, but it’s so far. So awesome, too.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you guys.” Killua promised softly, breath hitching. “I’ll be here the whole time. Not literally, of course, but you trust me, right?” He grinned a little. “If I'm down here, nothing will go wrong.”

“I’m not afraid of something going wrong,” Gon grumbled, frustrated. Killua bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood when Gon’s hand stopped moving. “I just don’t know if this is fair. For me to leave you behind.”

Killua went cold. He’d had the same thoughts for years, yes, but it was an entirely different thing to hear them spoken aloud, by Gon no less. He tried to regain his composure, curling his hands into fists within the sleeping bag. “It’s not unfair.” he forced out, overcome with bitterness. But…his face grew uncontrollably warm to hear it. Gon cared. He always did. 

“Killua—”

“It’s not unfair, because you’re not leaving me.” Killua continued, the lie slippery on his tongue. Gon left him behind a long time ago. “I don’t even want this. Like space, I mean. I don’t want to go to space. I’m perfectly comfortable here, with my beautiful, beautiful, 9.8 gravity.” 

Much to Killua’s content, Gon’s fingers resumed their course through his hair. He did sigh this time when his hand trailed down his neck on fingertips of light. Gon made a pleased noise.

 “Okay. Yeah. That’s good. It won’t be the same without you. It, uh, never is.” 

“Do you really have to say embarrassing things when I’m this close to you? I might actually commit murder by accident.” Killua croaked flatly, the heat rushing up to his ears and down his spine. 

“You’re impossible,” Gon groaned, the epitome of hypocrisy when  he ran his thumb down Killua ‘s collarbone. “Who’s going to hear it?”

“The entire Chimera IV team?” Killua offered, shifting back away from Gon’s shoulder and lying his head flat on the hard floor.

“You’re ridiculous.” Gon told him importantly. 

“Yeah, probably.” Killua admitted. But not as ridiculous as you.”

This was a bad idea. He should have gone home, or given Gon the sleeping bag, or just forced Gon to sleep on the floor because it was impossible to think clearly with their legs aligned perfectly. His fingers rested right beside Gon’s thigh. 

“So mean,” Gon lamented. “You’re going to regret bullying me this much if I don’t come back.”

All the warmth in Killua’s body vanished. 

If I don’t come back.

“What?” Killua sat up so sharply he banged his head on the underside of the table. Several surrounding people hissed violently at them to shut up and go to sleep. 

“I mean, what?” He repeated more quietly, carefully scooting back down. 

“It was a joke.” Gon said. 

That’s not fucking funny. “Oh.” 

“Now go to sleep. It’s late.” 

“Right.” Killua turned his back to Gon. “Yeah. Good idea. Okay. Good night.”

“Good night, Killua.” 

If Gon didn’t come back.

What did that mean?

There had been only one casualty relating to space in the history of the Heavens Exploration Hunters, and it wasn’t even in space — just a freak accident during astronaut training. 

Gon would be totally safe. 

But what if he wasn’t? Killua felt nauseous. Gon couldn’t die. No, no, that wasn’t allowed. It wasn’t going to happen. No.

Killua hadn’t even told him. His throat closed up every time he tried to explain to Gon how much he was worth to him, how he’d destroy his own life a hundred times over if Gon would just smile. How he couldn’t bear the thought of being apart, how he followed him down the wrong paths and never regretted it. His body felt all wrong when Gon wasn’t there, like his eyeballs might fall out or his heart might leap from his teeth. Gon kept things in place. He made it all worthwhile. He couldn’t just die. Someone like Gon didn’t just die. That didn’t happen. 

Killua wouldn’t allow it.

What kind of a best friend would he be? All best friends made suicide pacts, and kissed up lies, and abandoned their dreams for each other. It wasn’t even “abandoned,” since Gon was his whole dream. That was normal. Obviously.

He chewed on his tongue and experimentally knocked his elbow into Gon’s. Gon twined their hands together, eyes still closed. Totally normal. Yup. 

“I–” he started, voice barely a breath above a whisper in the dark room. He could hear Gon’s steady breathing as he slept. 

Dear constellations help me, Killua thought, staring at the lightless ceiling, the same ceiling Gon would point to and chart out the stars on. 

I have to tell him.

Even if Gon didn’t get the same mile-a-minute pulse, or gaze into his eyes like he was the world, or crumble when their hands pulled apart. Who was he kidding? There was no “even.” It was obvious. Gon didn’t…He didn’t have to say it to know it. 

Killua breathed in slowly through his nose, hoping to stay quiet while his eyes burned. It really wasn’t fair. 

Nothing is ever fair, he chided himself, gently pulling his fingers out of Gon’s and clasping them over his chest. 

He should have learned that lesson a long, long time ago. 

Chapter Text

***

I thought if I wandered, I'd fall back in love

***

“Uh, hard pass. That patchwork coloring looks like dog puke.”

“Killua!” Retz admonished with a whine, fingers fiddling with the lace of her dress. 

“If you didn’t want my honest opinion, you shouldn’t have invited me to your stupid shopping spree.”

“You’re the only person I know with a decent fashion sense, though.” Retz grumbled, stalking back into the changing room to take off that horrifying fabric that shouldn’t even be considered clothing. 

“Then trust me. If you’re trying to catch someone’s eye, well…I think the only looks you’ll get are ones of pity.” 

“You’ve been rejecting all of my choices, though,” Retz said, exiting in her normal pants and sweater still only in socks. “It doesn’t really save your rep.” 

“You see Alluka?” Killua crossed his arms. “You see what she wears? You see how awesomely she’s dressed? That’s all me. Don’t give me backtalk, young lady.” 

Retz threw her shoe at him. “You don’t get to insult me just because you don’t misgender me!”

“What? But bitch is female, isn’t it—” he barely ducked the second sneaker with a yelp. When he straightened, Retz was laughing.

“Oi, yes, laugh at the wounded man.” Killua snapped, pointing to his loosely bandaged hands. 

“It's not my fault Gon’s clumsy.” 

“Clumsy? Clumsy? That idiot practically drowned me in ammonia! If it weren’t for his crying I’d think he was trying to kill me!” 

Gon had indeed wailed pathetically after accidentally knocking over a vial of ammonia onto Killua’s bare hands. It had been ridiculously piteous, and equal parts heartwarming. 

“Tough.” Retz rolled her eyes, neatly folding up the ugly-ass dress.

“Tough? I’ll show you tough!”  Killua yelled. 

***

Unsurprisingly, they were evicted from the store. 

“Whatever, all their clothes were dog shit anyway.” he muttered, kicking the pavement with his toe as they walked back to Gon’s place. 

“What is it with you and dogs?” Retz asked, face flushed from the crisp March air. 

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m hanging out with you, aren’t I?” 

“Asshole!” She screamed. Killua roared with laughter. 

They made it to Mito’s apartment in no time, propelled by the cold temperature. Gon greeted them brightly as ever, wincing when he saw Killua’s hands shoved in his pockets. He ushered Retz inside, but halted Killua outside the door while she went into his room

“I really am sorry about your hands,” he whispered. 

“It’s fine. It was an accident. You already apologized.” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, but — it shouldn’t have happened. I should have been more careful.” 

Killua grinned. “At least now we know not to pour super-basic substances on m— on skin?”

Gon reached down for his wrist, then thought better of it and took Killua’s elbow in his palm. He gently pulled Killua’s hand out of his pocket, wide eyes glued to the bandages. “That doesn’t look basic.”

Killua sighed. “Basic pH, Gon. pH.” 

“Do you need to change these?” 

“Nope. Just redid them at home. But if you don’t mind, could I snatch another roll of gauze? I used up the last of it on…” his voice trailed off. “Um. Kalluto.” 

Gon’s fingers tightened around Killua’s arm. “Yeah. Of course. Anything.”

There was a loud cough. Retz poked her head out of the room “Not to interrupt, or anything, but are we going to finish this calc project or not?” 

Killua went bright red, ripping his arm away from Gon. “Yeah!” He squawked a little too loudly. “Come on, Gon.”

“Yeah. Retz, did you find anything for the dance?”

“No, because Mr. Perfect over here disapproved of the entire store.” She jerked a thumb at Killua. 

“Look, if you want to look the part of a dog, be my guest.” He held up his hands in surrender. Gon gave a confused look, and Retz groaned, thudding her head into his shoulder. Gon patted her hair and laughed. 

Killua felt his heart sink into his stomach. What did it matter if Gon cared about his stupid hands? He cared about everyone. Even Retz, who obviously cared a bit too much about him. Or whatever. It didn’t matter. They could do whatever they liked. 

Steadying his voice, Killua teased, “Okay, idiots, let’s get a move on.” Luckily (not luckily, since Killua did NOT CARE WHAT PEOPLE DID) Retz sat up straight and scooted closer to the papers laid out on the floor. 

“I can’t wait to be done with high school,” Retz lamented after an hour of laboring over the math. 

“We still have a year and a half left.” Gon pointed out. “Try not to be so sad about it.” 

She perked up. “Do you guys have any ideas for colleges? I’ve been pretty conflicted.”

“It’s kind of late to be conflicted,” Killua huffed. 

Gon answered quickly. “Yeah! We know exactly what we want to do!”

We. Killua scoffed and looked to the side. 

“Physics?” Retz guessed. “I’m kind of surprised that you’re so good at it.”

“Why, because math is his weakest?” Killua snickered. “Gon’s good at memorizing formulas.” He knocked a fist against the back of his friend’s head. “Aren’t you?”

“Thanks for all the confidence.” Gon deadpanned. “And yeah, definitely physics. It’s a physical science, obviously, so if I major in that I’ll definitely meet the requirements for space exploration.”

“Space?!” Retz gasped, shoving aside their work to lean in. “You want to work at YSSA?”

“We already did a tour and got to watch some stuff!” Gon grinned. “Besides, I wanna go further than Yorkshin. I’m thinking Heavens!”

“Heavens.” Retz repeated. “As in, Heavens Exploration Hunters. You want to get into an international association? That’s insane! Good luck!”

“You don’t think I won’t stand a chance?” Gon frowned.

“Are you kidding? You’re amazing! You have this in the bag.” 

Gon brightened. “Aw, that’s so sweet! What about you, then? What are you planning?”

“Well…I want to go into the arts. Specifically acting.” Retz deflated. “But my parents would never have it.” 

“I thought your brother was an actor, though?” Killua cut in, shifting uncomfortably. They didn’t have to act like he wasn’t even there, did they? “He hit it super big, didn't he?”

“That’s exactly why my parents are against the idea. They won’t risk another starving artist. Omo struggled a lot before he got cast into the Phantom Rogue series.” 

“I think you should go for it, no matter what they say.” Gon encouraged. “With your skills, you can get a scholarship for sure. Follow your dreams!”

Retz smiled shyly. “Thanks, Gon. What about you, Killua?” 

“Me?” Killua asked, surprised. It had been a while since someone asked him what he wanted to do, instead of shoveling him into courses like his family, or assuming his desires like Gon. He paused for a moment, thinking. His default answer was “ same as Gon,” but he never actually wanted that. Maybe music? That had been off the table for years. 

He glanced over at Gon, who was watching him with glimmering, proud eyes. His stomach grew hot, spreading fire up his limbs to his face. How could Gon just look at him like that, like he could give him the stars and more? How could he look at Killua like he was the moon?

He isn’t, Killua realized. He’s happy because he thinks he knows exactly what I’ll say.  

“Same as Gon.” Killua finally said, gesturing to his best friend with a wan smile. “But chem.”

“Oh, chemistry and physics together? And you’ve got experience? I’m sure you’ll be at HXH in no time,” Retz laughed. But not before giving Killua the saddest, most pitiful look he’d ever gotten. He felt scraped down, defenseless, like she’d blazed through every carefully constructed wall he’d stacked over the years.

Like she saw him. Saw him for what he really was. Disgusting. Selfish. Manipulative. Every bit the scum Gon should hate. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. He edged backwards on the floor, until he hit the bed frame. 

Don’t look at me, he wanted to scream, cross his arms over his chest and hide whatever was left. But then Retz blinked and turned back to Gon, chatting excitedly about potential universities. Killua shuddered and let out a shallow breath. He couldn't scrounge up the energy to be jealous as Retz placed a hand over Gon’s and giggled. 

It didn’t matter much, anyway. 

***

“Seriously? I am not walking you home again.” Killua rolled his eyes. “Just get a damn taxi.”

“Aw, I’ll walk you!” Gon offered. 

Almost immediately Killua cut in, “Actually, I won’t be cruel. If Gon went with you, you’d both get mugged.” 

Gon deflated; Retz laughed. 

“I’ll go with you guys, too, though. Some extra company couldn’t hurt.” Gon pressed.

“I think just Killua is okay,” Retz promised. “I need to talk to him anyway.”

Killua was sure his lungs had dissolved into acid, because he could not breathe. She was going to tell him about Gon. Tell him to back off. No. No. Please, not him. 

“Y-yeah.” he found himself saying. Might as well rip the band-aid off. 

Gon furrowed his brow as they edged out of the apartment. “If you say so.” His fingers twitched at his side. Killua bit his lip and turned to walk away.

“Uh, Killua, wait.” Gon blurted. He darted forward quickly and clasped his arms around Killua in a tight embrace. Killua didn’t get a chance to process it, or hug back, because Gon pulled back impossibly fast. “I really am sorry about your hands. Okaybyenow!” He slammed the door shut. 

Killua gaped at the door. He turned to Retz. “Is he okay?” She asked. 

“I mean, he hugs people all the time, but not me.” Killua mumbled, flustered. “Whatever. Let’s go.” He could still feel traces of warmth against chest.

The sun set in hues of gold and purple against the clear skies. Once they reached the main street, they walked under the garden ledges, beneath the towering oaks and maples. 

“Hey, Killua,” Retz said suddenly, stopping under a tree. “Can we talk?”

“You’re talking right now,” he pointed out, dread pooling in his stomach. He knew what was coming. He could feel it. 

She normally would have rolled her eyes or thrown something at him. But now she fiddled with her fingers, glancing down. 

“I just…have something to tell you.”

Fear cavorted in his ribcage. “Yeah. Okay. I’m all ears.”

“Gah, I don’t want to say this. Um. I think you already know,” she blurted, digging her fingers together. “I’m not really subtle.” 

“Yeah.” Killua echoed, mouth drying. “Yeah. I think I know.” Tears pricked the back of his eyes. He blinked quickly. 

Retz sucked in a sharp breath. “Gods, this is really hard.” 

“I need you to say it,” Killua found himself saying. “Just to make sure I know.” He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he lost Gon without true confirmation. 

“That’s really cruel.” Retz whispered, voice wet. “Fine. Okay. Dammit, this is hard. Fuck.” She paced a circle around the tree, bracing one hand against the rough bark. “Please, don’t make me say it. Ugh.” She dropped into a squat, burying her face in her hands.

“You do know this is harder on me than you, right?” He snapped, rage jittering under his skin. She couldn’t play the victim when it was his feelings on the line. Feelings, right. Because he had those. He was learning, slowly, not to trust everything Illumi said. 

“I don’t even know why I put up with you,” she warbled with a sob. “Why I even—”

“Why you even what?” Killua growled, crossing his arms. If she could hurry up and admit she was in love with Gon, this whole ordeal would be over with. She stood up with such vigor he took a step back. Her angry glare was ruined by her blotchy, tearstained face. 

“Why do I even like you!” 

Killua froze. 

The wind whistled through the leaves of the tree, leaving trails of silence in its wake. 

“You mean…” he whispered. “you...what?”

“Use your brain, smartass!” Retz yelled, voice cracking halfway through. “I hang out with you all the time! I give — I give hints everywhere! What more could I do? Write it on caution tape?” 

Killua stared. “You…like me? Like… like… love?” 

“Oh, fuck you!” She snarled, clapping her hands over her eyes. “I wouldn’t, if I could. I wish I didn’t! I wish I didn’t love you!”

The words might have stung if Killua was listening. But all he could hear was his own heartbeat, screeching to a stop in his ears. “So you have…a crush on me?”

“Way to trivialize it.” Her cries held no bite. She wasn’t angry at him. She was just hurting. 

“Oh.” Killua said. “That’s why you wanted to talk to me. To confess.”

“Yeah. Tell me how this is harder on you than me?” She muttered. “Poor you, loved by everybody.”

Ha! If only she knew how wrong she was. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting this!” He shouted back. Oops. He probably shouldn’t be shouting at the crying girl. Retz always seemed to be crying. 

“What did you expect, then? An apology? I’m not going to be sorry for liking you. If anything, I feel sorry for myself. You’re a bitch.”

“Clearly not, since you like me.” Killua snapped. “And I thought you liked Gon! You’re always clinging onto him!” 

Retz choked. “You thought I liked Gon? Are you kidding me? You two are so obviously in love it makes me want to cringe. I wish I had a friendship like that. But you’re so oblivious you’d just let it go to waste. It’s actually paining me to watch it.”

“We are not in love.” Killua grumbled. 

“Oh yeah? Then would you still be upset if I said I liked Gon? You seemed to be in a real tizzy over there.” 

“You don’t know anything!” Killua argued. 

“Whatever, Killua. I didn’t come here looking for a boyfriend. I just needed a rejection, so I can get over you.”

Killua frowned, and Retz gave him one more hard glare before snorting.  “You are such a jerk.” he gasped, a traitorous smile flickering out over his lips. “And yeah, don’t worry, I don’t wanna date you.” 

She sighed, beckoning with her hands. “Ouch, man. Lay it on me.” 

“Well, you’re more of a sister to me,” Killua said truthfully. “Like, if Alluka and Nanika were triplets, you’d definitely be—”

“Ah! That’s enough, enough!” Retz moaned. “Don’t kill me. Leave it be, please, dear lord.” 

Killua sighed. “You really made this awkward, you know that?”

“Thanks, Killua.” she deadpanned. “I needed to hear that. 

He shrugged. “Doing my job.” 

“So…” Retz winced. “I guess you go back to Gon now, huh?”

“I still have no clue what you mean.”

“Not me, Killua. Don’t do this to me. I don’t think I can fix your bludgeoned relationships and trust myself not to fuck them up further out of vindictiveness.” 

“That bad, huh?”

“You are pretty, you know.”

Killua batted his eyes. “Tell me more.”

Retz flicked his forehead. “Pretty ugly.”  

Killua laughed. She took a moment, but she laughed too. It was a cracked and tearful laugh with just the slightest pinch of relief.  

“Oh, it’s getting late. Come on, let’s hurry up.” Killua scurried forward, grateful for a diversion. It was still uncomfortable to think about Retz like that. He meant what he said earlier. 

“I think I’ll take your suggestion and take a taxi.” Retz put up a hand. “I’m almost eighteen, remember? I’ll be okay.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I think…” she took a hesitant step back. “I think a bit of space is good for now. Not to be rude or anything, but I really don’t feel like hanging out with you right now. Or anywhere in the near future.”

“Fair.” Killua shrugged. “Well…good night, Retz. Don’t be a stranger.”

She nodded, twisting on her heel to walk away. “Goodbye, Killua.”

Killua glanced back at Gon’s apartment, a few blocks down. Clenching his bandaged hands into weak fists, he turned around and started running. 

***

“Killua? What are you doing back here? Did you forget something?” Mito asked, long ago accustomed to the sight of him randomly showing up.

“I need—” he paused. “I need to see Gon.” 

Mito’s eyes sparkled. “Sure thing.” She leaned back and shouted, “GON, KILLUA IS BACK!” 

It took a whole of eight seconds for Gon to thunder down the hall, skidding into the wall. “Hey, Killua.” he said breathlessly. “Are you staying the night?”

Killua glanced up at Mito. “If that’s…okay.” 

She smiled. “You’re always welcome here, Killua.” 

He nodded quickly, following Gon to his room.

“Why the change of plans? Is Retz okay?”

“Um…I guess. She might not hang out with us for a bit, though.” 

“Aw, what happened?” Gon frowned. Killua wondered if he was allowed to tell Gon, if that was right of him. But then Gon shuffled closer, and he remembered they were one and the same, and not sharing would be lying, and Gon should know it all because if Killua had him memorized, it was only fair he be memorized in return, no? 

So he explained. Laid it bare to the ground. He wasn’t sure when Gon had leaned in close enough to feel his ribs rise and fall against his own, but he wasn’t complaining. It was comfortable. Familiar. This was a Gon he knew. His best friend. 

“So you don’t like her, right?” Gon clarified. 

“Don’t make me sound like an asshole.” Killua mumbled. “She’s our friend. I’ll be honest, I didn’t like her when we first met, but after a while she was cool you know?”

“Why didn’t you like her?” 

“Because she liked you, obviously.” Killua squinted. “Didn’t we agree it was just gonna be us forever? Even if you go to the moon, and I’m here, it’s still just us.”

Gon’s eyes gleamed. “When you put it like that ,” He rested his head on Killua’s shoulder. “You make it sound like you like me.”

Killua frowned. “I do like you. You’re my best friend, Gon.”

“It’s very sweet when you say that, considering it happens once every year.”

“There were a lot of years.” Killua commented in a stilted voice, Gon’s hand trailing down his wrist towards the edge of the bandages. 

“Are you cold?” Gon asked, sitting upright when Killua shivered.

“No, dumbass, you’re just being really creepy!”

“This is creepy?” Gon faked shock, lifting Killua’s limp arm. 

“Yes. Very.” Killua kept his face straight. Gon dropped his arm, opting to pat Killua’s head condescendingly. 

“I bet I could breathe wrong and you’d get embarrassed,” Gon teased. 

“To be real, your breathing is pretty shameful,” Killua confessed. “Anyway, I’m tired. Thought I’d stay for the night because I didn’t want to walk home, and…well…Illumi’s back from college.” 

Gon paled. “Oh.” he sat back on his heels, facing Killua, and inspecting him carefully. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “If anything, I should be going back. But Alluka and Nanika should be safe, I guess. I don’t—” his voice caught. “Whatever. I just want to stay, okay?”

“You never have to ask,” Gon reassured him. 

“Thanks, Gon,” Killua mumbled halfway under the covers. 

“I thought you said friends don’t say thanks?” Gon hummed, turning off the lights and crawling beside him. 

“I’m making an exception this time. For three seconds, we aren’t friends.” 

“Worst three seconds of my life!” Gon proclaimed, wiggling beneath the heavy blankets. “Man, it’s been a while since we had a sleepover like this.” 

That was mostly on Killua, for insisting on sleeping on the floor every time since seventh grade — when his nightmares worsened, and he started thrashing. It was better now that he was older, but not perfect. 

“I remember when you first told me you wanted to go to space.” Killua sighed, crossing his arms behind him on the pillow. They’d gotten taller, much taller, and his feet touched the foot of the bed down, but it was still incredibly comfortable because Gon was there.

“Really? When?”

“Sixth grade. You were dumb as hell, ranting about the stars and stuff.”

“Yet here you are,” Gon said, sounding in awe. 

Killua twisted to look at him. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

Gon pulled Killua's hand forward gently, propping himself up on one elbow and running a finger down the bandages. “Maybe it would be better if I did?”

Killua wondered if there was a For Dummies manual on how to breathe; he seemed to have forgotten how to. “You want me to go?” he managed roughly when Gon gingerly placed his hand down. It stung for all the wrong reasons. 

“If I hurt you a lot, then…”

“On the Zodiacs, you need to let it go.” Killua rolled his eyes, though he knew Gon could hardly see him with only the moonlight pouring in from the window. He could just barely make out Gon’s downturned lips. It wasn’t a look Killua ever wanted to see on him. 

“You’re right. I’d never intentionally hurt you.”

Doesn’t stop it from happening. Whatever. Killua had hurt Gon plenty of times. “Not like you’re immortal, either. It’s okay, Gon. Just let me forgive you.” 

“But—”

“Are you sure this is about my hands?” 

Even in the dark, Killua could see him gulp. 

“I’m just a little scared that one day I might hurt you too much, and you’ll leave.”

“You could rip my insides out and I’d still stay with you ” was probably a bit extreme. “I won’t leave, Gon.” 

Gon was the one leaving. He didn’t have to glance at the waxing-quarter moon to know. Killua knew it. Knew it in his breaths, pulse and blood, knew it in Gon’s smiles, tears and bruises, knew it in the stupid stars, knew it in his equally flimsy bones.

“Good.” Gon spoke after such a long silence, Killua jolted, forgetting what they’d even been discussing. “Good, because I won’t do it alone.” 

“What, go to space? Buddy, I am not moving an inch.” Killua teased. 

“Live.” Gon whispered. “I won’t live alone, Killua.”

Stop it. Please. Don’t say it. 

“Not without you.”

***

A few months passed, and the annual dance rolled around. Retz showed up to the school dance, but she glued herself to Zushi’s arm and avoided looking at Killua. 

She would get over it eventually, and then things could go back to normal. At least Zushi seemed to be having a field day. 

“Hey, Killua!” Gon grabbed his shoulders and grinned. “Come on!”

“Dear gods, no, I am not dancing with you.”

“But it’s a dance.” Gon deadpanned. 

“This is my cue to run.” Killua shifted backwards. But Gon always got his way, and so he found himself in the middle of the gym with warm hands on his hips and his heart in his throat. 

Gon smiled the whole while, and Killua wondered if he could inconspicuously die on the floor. Then Gon raised a hand and ruffled it through his hair.

“What the hell was that for?” 

“Don’t know. I like your hair.” And then he turned and grabbed Zushi, who danced behind them, pulling him into an elaborate dip and spin. They laughed and danced, Gon grabbing Retz’s hands and spinning her, too, until it was utter chaos. 

Killua slowly backed away. He didn’t belong here. Not with all these kind people who dared to dance and laugh and cry. 

(Killua must be a fraud. Only two seconds after swearing he’d leave, he allowed Zushi to yank him forward and spent the rest of the night with his friends.) 

Gon flashed him smiles, Retz gave him a sparse wave, and the world glowed a little lighter. 

***

After the dance, when eleven o’clock at night struck, Gon dragged them to his favorite restaurant. It was a hole in the wall spot, with four tables and a counter. The mouth-watering smell of spices wafted through the air, and Killua let his hunger win out over exhaustion as the tetrad settled down. 

Gon urged them all to try the ramen, and Killua hardly trusted his best friend’s taste but today he made an exception. 

It came with a tea egg, and Killua hated eggs. The taste made him nauseous and the texture was another digestive system S-level threat. So he neatly portioned it in half with his chopsticks and pressed it to Gon’s surprised lips. 

Gon readily accepted the food, then froze halfway through swallowing. He stared at Killua, at his chopsticks, at his chin.  

“I—“ Gon began, tongue dipping out. Killua dropped his chopsticks. 

He cursed, leaning over to retrieve them, and when he sat back up, Gon’s face was practically buried in his bowl as he hastily ate. 

Killua blinked. Retz and Zushi gossiped to each other on the other side of the table, elbowing and giggling as they missed the scene unfolding. 

“You…” Killua placed his chopsticks down. “Don’t like eggs?” 

Then Gon reached over and took the last portion of his tea egg, food-stuffed cheeks pushed up in a smile, and the moment was lost. Killua snickered, rolling his eyes and shoving down any lingering disappointment in his chest. 

Hoping was for losers, and if there was one thing Killua was not, it was a loser.  

***

It just happened.  

They were on a routine weekend run; Gon insisted, against Killua’s will, to maintain top physical form in preparation for space. Gon’s legs gave out at the eleventh mile; Killua dragged him to a lone tree along the riverbank and let him rest there. 

“This is pathetic.” Gon puffed, face flushed from exertion. “I bet you could go another ten without breaking a sweat.”

Killua wiped his brow of said sweat. “Probably.” Running was a typical form of punishment in his household, because it made him suffer and stronger at the same time, so he could hold impressive sprints. 

“Go on, then,” Gon shooed him before placing his hands on his knees and letting out a weak groan of exhaustion. 

“Do I need to spell it out for you? Gon, I’m not leaving.” Killua tugged at the edge of his tank top. 

“Yeah,” Gon straightened, scrubbing his forearm over his face and staring at Killua’s neck. “I’m an idiot.”

“G-O-N, I—” Killua didn’t get another breath in before Gon dug his hand into the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. 

His lips tasted like salt. 

Killua hadn’t registered the kiss before it was over, and Gon took off down the road, running like he’d never been tired at all. 

One, two, three, twenty rapid beats of his heart passed before he realized what had happened. Killua licked his lips and sprinted after Gon, easily catching up and dragging down the back of his shirt. Gon choked, clawing at his hand. Killua threw him to the side, hand squeezing his shoulder so that he couldn’t run away. 

“What.” He said, voice a stone in his throat. “was that?” 

Gon pinched the top of Killua’s hand, but he didn’t let go. 

“Uh. I got my second win?” 

“You can’t—” Killua bit his tongue before he licked his lips again. “What the hell? You can’t just do…” 

Gon was staring at him like he’d sprouted wings and proclaimed himself a savior. Eyes all innocent as if he had no idea what he’d done.

“...that.” 

“I’m not allowed to run?” 

“You can’t just kiss random people.” he scolded lamely.

“But you aren’t random.” Gon frowned. “You’re my best friend.” 

Killua heaved in an immense breath, chest constricting. “That doesn’t — I could fucking sue you!”

“Yeah, but you won’t.” Gon blinked. 

Killua chewed his lip. Shameless as ever, Gon’s eyes followed his teeth. 

“Just. You can’t.” Killua croaked. “Okay? You can’t do whatever you want, whenever you want, just because you feel like it. That’s not okay. I’m—” I’m a person, too. It had meant absolutely nothing to Gon. He’d just done it for the hell of it. Right after all his claims of never wanting to hurt Killua, too. 

“I won’t do it again, then,” Gon shrugged like that fixed everything. 

Killua threw up his hands. “That’s not the point, dipshit. You can’t go around kissing whoever you want.”

“But you already agreed you would stay with me. Doesn’t that come with the territory?”

“Jeez, Gon, that wasn’t a proposal! We’re friends.” And maybe I want you to do that again. 

“...I know?” 

Killua felt heat burn up his face. It might have been anger, or embarrassment, or something else, but it didn't matter. With as much biting rage as he could channel into his expression, he glared at Gon.  “This is so not okay.” 

“Obviously I wouldn’t do it to anyone else! Why're you so mad? If you hated it so much just say it, and I’ll forget this ever happened.” he snarled. “No need to be so prickly.” 

“Fine, Gon. Have it your way.” he gritted out. Killua didn’t much like lying to Gon. He made an exception this time. “I hated it.” 

Gon glared back. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!” 

It might have been a heartbeat or less before Killua sharply stepped forward and kissed him again. And again. Gon’s fingers roughly twisted through his hair — wow, he really likes it — and his lips were chapped and his teeth were crooked and it was wonderful. 

Gon shoved his chest weakly, fingers measuring each ragged breath he took. Killua struggled to maintain a frown against Gon’s grinning mouth. 

“You’re such a liar, Killua.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot.” He snarked, running his tongue over his lips. 

Gon lowered his eyes, dangerously so. “I want—“ 

“Come on.” Killua interrupted, stomach growing hot. “We don’t have all day.” 

They broke apart and kept running. 

***

Six hours later, Killua walked home with swollen lips and sunshine in his eyes. 

Milluki snickered at him. “Huh. Must have been one stupid girl.”

“Something like that.” 

“Brother will kill her, you know!” Milluki called as he beelined for the stairs. 

Killua couldn’t be bothered to care. 

***

One day, curled up on Gon’s sofa halfway through his English 12 assignment, there was a sharp knock on the door. Mito scurried to answer it. Gon, hanging upside down next to Killua, lifted his head sharply. 

“Who is it?” He asked, just as the door slammed shut. The boys rushed over to find Mito resting against the door, forehead pressed against the peephole.

“Aunt Mito?” Gon asked. When she didn’t respond, he tried, “Mom?”

“It’s—-” she looked to the side. “Here.” She stepped aside, slowly opening the door. A strange man entered the apartment, waving a hand. Gon’s eyes widened. 

“Ging?” 

“Hey, kiddo.” 

Gon’s fingers curled into fists. “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t quite anger in his voice, but a mixture of confusion and something else. 

“Thought I’d drop by. Was in the neighborhood and all.”

“Thanks for troubling yourself.” Mito interjected. Killua was taken aback by the ferocity in her tone. He’d never heard the gentle woman sound so scathing.

“Mito,” Ging warned. “I’m here to talk to Gon.” 

“Yeah, come in, come in,” Gon hurried, giving Mito an apologetic glance. “Here. Sit down.” he pulled up a chair for his father at the small table, sitting across from him. Awkwardly, Killua sat beside Gon. 

“I heard news of a Freecs at the YSSA, and had to check it out.” 

“We’ve been visiting every now and then,” Gon shrugged. “Hoping for an internship once we get to college.”

“So you really are aiming for space, huh?”

Gon nodded brightly. Ging smiled and reached across to ruffle his hair. 

“That’s my boy.” 

“He isn’t yours,” Mito corrected chillingly. Killua winced; he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding on something. But then he saw Gon’s hands quivering under the table and knew he was right where he was supposed to be. Carefully, he twined their fingers together. 

“Yeah, yeah, papers and whatnot. Gon, care to introduce me to your friend?” he inclined his head towards Killua.

“Oh, yeah!” Gon grinned, squeezing his hand tight. “This is Killua! My friend; he’s my classmate!” 

What. 

What?

Whatever Ging said in response flew over Killua’s head. Classmate? That was it? He couldn’t think of anything better to call him? Classmates didn’t kiss each other or promise to stay together forever. Killua dropped Gon’s hand, shoving his fists beneath his knees. 

Ging left in no time, but the damage had been done. 

“We’re friends?” Killua asked as soon as Mito escorted Ging outside.

Gon frowned. “Obviously!”

“That’s…that’s all you have to say?” Killua pressed, not sure what exactly he was searching for. He normally didn’t care for words — he and Gon made the world and its meanings malleable to fit in their palms. It shouldn’t bother him that Gon dismissed everything that went on. They weren’t kids anymore. He could be mature and talk about it, right?

“Well, yeah!” Gon grinned. 

“But we…” Killua trailed off, deflating. “Friends don’t…” 

Gon shrugged. “I don’t care what other people do or say. We’re best friends, forever!” 

Friendzoned by “BFFs?” It was laughable, really. Killua had always been such a loser, this whole time, and Gon had been playing him like a violin. 

Killua stood up abruptly. “I have to go,” he told Gon. His best friend nodded brightly, on the cusp of understanding. 

“Okay, Killua! See you later?” 

“Yeah.” Killua muttered. 

They didn’t kiss again after that. 

***

distance brings fondness, but guess not with us

***

Graduation came and went. Killua let Gon hold his hand, even with lingering prickles of contempt. His heart raced anyway under Gon’s palms. 

Retz showed up and gave them quick hugs; Zushi trailed after her with dazed eyes and a self-proclaimed boyfriend title. About time, too, seeing as he’d chased after Retz since before tenth grade. 

Killua returned home on the last day of high school, his absence of three weeks finally broken. When he burst into Alluka’s room and saw her tear stained face, he knew he’d messed up. 

He should have come home sooner. Shouldn’t have hidden at friends’ places, shouldn’t have dodged the manor like a well-aimed bullet. 

“Brother,” Alluka sobbed. He knelt beside her, wrapping her in a tight hug. 

“I’m home, Allu,” he whispered. 

“Brother, please help Nanika!” She burst out. 

“How is she?” Killua sat up, alert. “What happened?”

Alluka blinked rapidly. “I tried to keep her here but…she’s with Fath—Silva right now.” Killua hated it when Alluka called Kikyo and Silva mother and father. What they did barely constituted parenting. 

“I’m going to get her.” Killua stood suddenly, fear prickling under his skin. “You stay here.” 

Alluka grabbed at his sleeve. “Take me with you,” she whispered. 

Killua wasn’t quite sure where she meant. 

He hugged her, tight. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much. It’s hard coming back –— but I’ll always be here for you, okay? I'm going to talk to Silva, so wait one minute, please?”

After a beat, Allluka nodded. Her fingers unfurled from his sleeve. All of a sudden feeling cold, Killua walked out of the room and shut the door behind him, making his way to the basement. 

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. 

“Hey,” Killua entered the dreary room. The dark walls were stricken with an eerie blue light from the numerous illuminating screens. 

“Son.” Silva noted more than greeted. Killua tracked Nanika, who sat straight-backed in the corner of the room. Killua mouthed a question at her but she kept her eyes forward. 

“Nanika has homework to do,” Killua announced, walking confidently over to her corner of the monitor room. Silva didn’t turn his head. 

“Alluka can do it,” he played along. “Since he decided he wanted to become her.”

“How can you take that out on Nanika?” Killua burst out. How can you take it out on anyone? How can you blame us for existing?  

Silva twitched. “If there’s something you need, Killua, I suggest you speak up.”

“Come on, Nanika,” Killua held out a hand. He watched her raise her dark eyes to meet his. His heart nearly shattered when he saw her trembling lip and the bags under her eyes. 

“She’s been ordered not to move until her punishment has been fulfilled.”

“What happened?” Killua asked, tone chilled. 

“None of your business.”

“I thought the family business was mine, too?” Killua pressed. 

“You know that’s not what that means.”

“Do I?”

Silva sighed. “She broke a plate.”

“Oh, really? A child broke a plate? How atrocious.” Killua crossed his arms, prickling with unfamiliar confidence. 

“Killua.” Silva warned. 

“If you’re itching to hurt us so badly, be a big man and take it out on me. Not some helpless girls.” 

“They need to learn the consequences of their actions. Do not interfere.” Silva stood up when Killua dragged Nanika to his chest. 

“You told me to never betray people. Well here I am, not betraying my sister.”

“You’d rather I give you to Illumi to be reprimanded?”

Killua gritted his teeth. “Yes.” 

Silva nodded. “Very good. I’ll call him in.” 

“Nanika, come on. Let’s go.” 

She mumbled incoherently, and Killua quickly led her out of the basement, up the stairs to the sunlight. As soon as she was safely hidden in Alluka’s room, Killua patted the girls’ heads and smiled. 

“I have to go now,” he murmured.  “But I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

Alluka nodded, embracing Nanika. “Thank you, Brother.”

“I love Killua,” Nanika whispered, voice dry from disuse, glancing up at him with watery eyes. “Thank. You.” 

Killua bit his lip. He didn’t deserve their forgiveness. But still, he forced himself to leave, back down to the basement where Illumi awaited. 

“Come on, asshole.” Killua snarled. “Let’s get this over with.”

Illumi sighed. “Crass as ever. This is for your own good, you know.”

“Yeah, and the earth’s a fucking triangle.”

“Let’s see how long that humor lasts.” Illumi tsked, pulling something long and silver from his pocket. 

Killua’s throat went dry when he saw the needles. Fine. He could handle it. He’d be fine. 

He always was. 

***

Killua walked out of the basement coated in a disgusting film of blood and shredded skin. If it weren’t for his age or his sisters, he would have gone to authorities long ago. Once he turned eighteen, he was home free. In more ways than one. 

He stumbled out of the house, breaking out of the copse of trees and exiting the property as fast as he could. It was midnight or later by now, the sky a slash of indigo overhead. 

Killua only stopped running once Kukuroo Drive was out of view. He hated that stupid fucking mansion, he stupid family, his stupid wounds. He hated the stupid world, the stupid sky, the stupid stars that twinkled above in mockery. They were laughing at him as he limped down the street, poking fun at his injuries as he stumbled onto the train and headed for a familiar neighborhood. 

Just a street down from Gon’s block, Killua froze. 

What the hell was he doing? Going to Gon for help again? When was he going to learn that it only hurt him more?

Foolish, foolish Kil. 

Killua zipped up his jacket, making sure to conceal any bloodstains. Then he turned and headed straight back home. 

Take that, stars , he thought with a vicious anger. Fuck you all. He glared up at the expansive galaxy that leered down on him. I don’t need you. I never did. Gon is the only one who gives a shit about space. 

He laughed aloud, half delirious from blood loss. His cries were heard by no one in the abyss of vast silence that swallowed up his words. 

“He’s nothing without me.” Killua whispered, unsure if it was an accusation or a lie. “Nothing.”

Chapter Text

***

The only mistake that we didn't make was run

***

Killua’s twentieth inorganic chemistry lecture was every bit as boring as the past nineteen. University had been a total drag. Sure, he was passing his classes, but it was hard to enjoy them. 

Oh well. Life wasn’t meant to be enjoyed; it was meant to be lived. 

That logic was difficult to stick by when every day he passed through the liberal arts college and heard the symphonies practicing. Sometimes, he woke up an hour early to sneak in and listen to them play. 

It was as beautiful as it was melancholic. He’d lost something he’d never get back: a chance. 

Gon met up with him every weekend. They studied together and researched HXH as much as they could. They held month-long internships at YSSA and decided to reach for bigger heights. 

Well, Gon did, anyway. 

They never talked much about the events of high school, or old friends. People drifted. It happened. Killua hadn’t heard a word from Zushi or Retz since senior year. 

“You ever wonder what Retz is up to?” Killua asked, setting down his printed out essay with a sigh. 

Gon looked at him sharply from his perch on Killua’s bed. “Not really. Why? In the mood to rekindle things?”

“Slow the hate train, loverboy.” Killua snickered, eyes twinkling. “There’s nothing to rekindle. I’m just curious, that's all.”

“I’m not—“ Gon protested. “Oh, whatever. She got into acting school; probably living out the dream life now, fake crying or something.”

Killua whistled. “I’d ace an acting test. Wouldn’t even need to fake tears if I had this essay in front of me.”

Gon studied him quietly. “Do you regret it?”

Regret what? Everything? No. Not yet.  “Regret what?”

“Choosing chemistry.”

“As opposed to?” Stupidly, Killua thought Gon would say music. Cello. Art. Anything but this. 

“Physics,” Gon said simply. “I mean, I’m enjoying myself a lot more.”

Right. This was Gon. 

“We cover more ground this way.” Killua was quick to recover. “So no, I don’t regret it.”

“That’s not really an answer.” 

Killua leaned back in his chair, watching Gon through his peripheral vision. “I guess there’s some more fun stuff out there. But it doesn’t matter. We’re here now, yeah?”

“What fun stuff?” Gon pressed. “Acting?”

“Why is this so important to you all of a sudden?” Killua demanded. “You never pestered me this much about what I wanted when you wanted something from me.”

“Hey!” Gon flinched, eyes shiny. “That’s not true.”

Killua grimaced. “Sorry.” He inhaled slowly. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. Forget it.”

Gon sighed. “I feel like you’re going further and further, Killua.”

Whose fault is that?  

“Sorry.” He repeated. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Go to sleep, then. It’s past midnight.”

Killua stared. “You’re kind of taking up the bed.”

Gon rolled over, creating a pocket of space. 

“No way in hell, man.” Killua asserted, nerves grating against each word. “You stink.”

“I showered!” Gon defended. “You’re the one who looks like a wreck.”

“Thanks.” Killua grumbled, walking over to his tiny closet.

“I just meant that you seem tired...” Gon trailed off. 

Killua shucked off his shirt and jeans in favor of pajamas. He could feel Gon’s eyes boring shamelessly into him, but it didn’t matter. 

Gon didn’t care like that. 

It didn’t matter to him, so Killua wouldn’t let it matter, either. 

“Then go back to your dorm and let me sleep,” he suggested. 

“Ha-ha, Killua.” Gon muttered. “I’ll sleep on the floor if that will make you happy.”

Like that was the most Gon could do, or something. 

“Maybe a little,” Killua grinned, replacing his sweater over his head. “It’s nice to have the high ground; I guess I’m already taller than you though, so I can check that one off.”

Gon gawked. “Rude!” Regardless, he smiled. 

Killua forced a smile in return, reluctantly slipping in beside Gon. He reached back to switch off the lamp and turned on his side to face him. 

“You know if the RA caught you snooping around here you’d never live the rumors down, right?” Killua allowed Gon to press his face in his chest. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled through the fabric. “I’d rather do my homework with you than sit alone in my room for hours.” 

“I know; I’m awesome.” Killua bragged to deflect the embarrassment. Gon lifted his hand and curled his fingers through his hair. 

“I really like your hair.” He announced softly. 

“I can tell.” Killua choked out. “Does that mean the hours I spend on it are worth it?” 

“Yes. It’s really soft.” Gon dropped his hand. “And your blankets are very comfortable.” He informed him, lifting his head to rest it in the crook of Killua’s neck. 

“Oh, are you just using me? How cruel.” Killua yawned. He clenched his jaw tight enough to break diamonds when Gon exhaled, warm air cascading down his throat. The gods must hate me. 

“Please, if I had even a sliver of chocolate you’d be at my room every night.”

“True,” Killua sighed. “Man, I miss chocolate. So expensive…”

“Don’t worry, Killua.” Gon’s warm hands gently lifted the hem of his sweater, sliding his shirt up. Killua held his breath as fingers trickled down his skin. “Once we’re at HXH, I’ll buy you all the chocolate you want.”

Killua glanced away, heat blooming up his face. Stop. Stop it. Don't be an idiot. Tell him to stop. You have to stop. 

He closed his eyes. 

“Okay. Okay, yeah. That sounds nice.”

***

Killua woke up in suffocating warmth. He pried Gon off him and rolled into the floor with a groan. Checking the time, he gave a breath of relief upon realizing his classes weren’t until one. 

“Hey, idiot.” Killua stood up and poked Gon’s shoulder. He muttered something and shifted under the covers. 

Killua rolled his eyes, gripping the edge of the blanket and ripping it off. Gon shrieked. 

“Killua! What was that for?” He gave a half-hearted sob. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, and you’re going to be late to your finance class.”

“Oh no! What time is it?”

“Ten.” Killua picked his shirt and sweater off the floor, tugging them on quickly, eyes flitting away from Gon. “Just go on already.”

“Yeah, yep! Going!” Gon yelped, tumbling out the door with a backward grin at Killua. “See you!” 

Killua brushed his fingers over his throat, searching for a pulse. Unfortunately, he found one. With a grumble, he grabbed his meager wallet and tugged on his shoes. 

Maybe a quick walk would help. 

Killua sludged through the miserable April air, wet and dank and every bit as gloomy as Limeiro ever was. Killua only came here for the university, but that didn’t brighten him up one bit. 

He walked through downtown, passing by the glowing restaurants and convenience stores. There was a Morrow’s Treats candy shop on every other corner; he’d have to bring Alluka here some time. 

For the bubble gum and the safety. He couldn’t stand the thought of her living all alone at home while she finished high school. He was on a scholarship at Limeiro, so if he wanted to support her he would need to make a lot more money. He refused to be reliant on his family anymore. 

Out of nowhere, a man barreled into him, clipping his shoulder. “Watch it, kid.”

Killua cursed and stumbled toward, catching himself on a rain-slick lamppost. His fingers slipped down a crumbling sticky paper. He jumped back, wiping his palms on his pants in an attempt to get it off. He glared at the poster, breaking apart under the water. 

NOW HIRING

He paused, eyes skimming over what was left legible of the words. 

General Service Administration, looking for anyone to clean facilities. Call xxx-xxx- xxxx
 if interested. 

• Janitorial, no experience required

• Must be over the age of 18

• 2000 jenny hourly wage 

• will work under…

…Heavens Exploration Hunters space association. 

Killua stared. Two thousand jenny an hour? To mop floors? He ripped a tab off the sodden paper and crammed it in his pocket before he could change his mind. 

Not only was it high for janitorial services, but at HXH? Gon would be more than ecstatic. 

Killua halted halfway down the street back to campus. If he did this…there’d be no going back. He wouldn’t be able to dodge and delay Gon’s dream, Gon’s departure. 

Cupping his hand over his eyes to block out the rain, Killua increased his pace. Who was he kidding? There was never any going back, not since he met Gon. Even if he could, he wouldn’t. 

When he got back, he moped around, attended his classes, and polished off the day with piece of toast. Gon rolled around his room at the usual nine pm, grinning ear to ear. He probably only stopped by so much because Killua lucked out with a single room and didn’t have a roommate. Gon’s roommate sounded…interesting. 

“Killua, Killua, guess what? Remember my teacher, Dr. Scythe? Well, we all call him Kite.”

“Yeah? You never stop talking about him.” Killua pulled his knees up to his chest, previously curled up on his bed and halfway through his assignment. A third way. Okay, fine, quarter. 

“He knew Ging!” Gon burst out, pacing an anxious circle around the tiny space. 

“Oh.” Killua said. 

Gon nodded rapidly. “Yeah, it’s awesome! I didn’t even realize until he brought him up, and he thought our last names were coincidence. Isn’t that crazy?”

Killua whistled, glancing down at his paper. “Yeah. Super crazy.”

As much as Gon worshiped Ging and the ground he walked on, Killua didn’t see the appeal. He looked (and acted) like a slobbier, older, uglier version of Gon who chose the worst possible way to exist, remarried a Guinness bottle, and was allergic to shaving. 

“So I was thinking…” Gon pressed awkwardly. “You two could meet? Maybe you can drop by the lecture since you won’t have any classes then.”

“Wait, he’s your physics professor isn’t he?” Killua glared. “You’ll never catch me near someone who actually passed that class.” 

Gon gasped melodramatically. “I can’t tell if I should be offended that you’re sticking with me, or flattered.”

“We’ll see how this plays out,” Killua snickered. Gon finally sat down, taking the chair and fidgeting awkwardly. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course. He seems like an interesting guy.” Killua yawned. “Your dad still sucks though.”

“Aw, Killua, come on. Don’t talk like that.”

“Someone has to say it for you.” Killua crossed his arms behind his head.

“I guess.” Gon trailed off. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Killua’s heart jumped into his throat. What was he going to say? Gon would ask him why he acted so weird, why he followed him around, and Killua would have no choice but to answer. 

Maybe the moment would swell symphonically, and maybe Killua would stand abruptly, closing the distance between them and giving the biting truth in a kiss. Maybe Gon would remember it all, the warm, heart-pulling things he said across the years, and he’d spill reality over chapped lips. Maybe they’d stay like that, for seconds or minutes or years and everything would click into place after a lifetime of unturned corners and unspoken confessions.

Maybe. 

Or maybe Gon said, “Are you bringing Alluka here?” 

The quasar collapsed, bringing down with it the galaxy, Killua included. He cleared his throat, dragging back to the present and up the waterspout of fantasies. 

“Uh, I’m not sure.”  

Gon nodded. “I thought you mentioned looking for a job some time ago to bring her here. I was just offering that maybe the three of us could move off-campus into an apartment, or something, because I’m also looking for internships.”

“Oh, shoot,” Killua lunged at the chance for a change in the subject, because embarrassment was rolling off him in solar radio waves at the notion he believed, for a second, Gon would like him like that. “I actually was going to tell you: I did find a job. I haven’t called them up yet or anything, but I’ll do it tonight.”

“What’s the gig?” Gon grinned like he hadn’t ripped his fist through Killua’s ribs. 

“Just some janitor stuff, pretty simple. My only worry is the commute. They would probably need the services in the evenings so it would be after class…it’ll be tough, but I think I can do it.” 

Gon’s eyes widened. “So you have to go pretty far, huh. Where at?” 

“Um.” Killua crossed his legs, propping his hands behind him on the stiff mattress and contemplating lying. Gon would get unnecessarily excited, but wasn’t that the point? “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Now I’m on the edge of my seat,” Gon sighed dramatically, scooting forward on the plastic chair. 

“Hey, sarcasm is my thing!” Killua accused. 

“Jeez, it’s at Tonpa’s Juice Bar, isn’t it?” Gon groaned. “How much does that pay? Or does he just give repurposed cola cans with logo stickers?”

“Screw you, it’s HXH.” Killua snapped.

Gon froze. “Wait. What? Are you being serious?”

“I told you not to freak out,” Killua muttered, lying flat on his back. “Like I said. It’s just cleaning stuff.”

“Killua! That’s insane!” Gon cheered, pouncing forward and shaking his shoulders violently, forcing him to sit back up. Killua shoved him off.

“Calm down, it’s not like we got hired or anything. I haven’t even called them yet.”

“But — Killua — you don’t get it! This is our first real connection! You can get your name there! Once we graduate college, I bet it will be super easy for you to advertise your resume there.”

“Right, and what’s gonna be on that resume?” Killua scoffed. “Zoldyck breaks the ground with society-altering discovery: Just use Windex?” 

“No, but—” Gon snorted. “Okay. Shut up. You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Killua yawned. “I can use this to help get Alluka away from home, at least, even if I can’t bring her here.”

“Where would she go?” Gon asked, inviting himself to sit at the edge of the bed. Killua shuffled closer, dropping his legs over the side of the bed. Gon readily lowered his head onto Killua’s shoulder

“I guess...my family used to have butlers, but they left a while ago. Maybe I could ask her to stay with one of them? I could even talk to some old highschool friends.” 

“Sounds like a good plan. I was gonna suggest we sneak her in here but in hindsight…”

“...I’m always right,” Killua finished, breaking off into a laugh as Gon shoved him.  

“Well, if she isn’t going to be here, can I stay?” Gon joked. 

“No.” Killua answered resolutely. “I bet the whole hall thinks you live here, not me, with all this coming-and-going.” 

“Aw.” Gon stood up, not looking the least bit dejected, which should not have incurred any disappointed twinge in Killua’s chest whatsoever. “Well, I still think we should celebrate this wonderful job opportunity.” 

“Oh? Do you plan on letting me finish my homework for once?” 

“Absolutely not!” Gon yelled, yanking on Killua’s arm and dragging him to his feet. “We’re getting chocolate! Celebratory chocolate!”

Killua allowed himself a smile. “Okay, Gon. Let’s go.” 

Gon wore the stars on his lips as he beamed and tiptoed down the dark hall, pulling Killua along by the hand.

Maybe it was the lighting, or the calloused palms under his, or the rare moment of serenity, or the prospect of chocolate, but whatever the reason, Killua felt happy. 

Incredibly, unbelievably, stupidly happy.  

***

Kite Scythe was fucking tall.

Killua had to crane his neck to make eye contact with the man, striking and towering as he was. His narrow eyes were circled in dark eyeliner and shadowed by silver-white bangs. He was either very old or very distressed judging on his flowing translucent locks. 

“Hello, Killua.” Kite greeted politely. 

“Gon tells me he calls you Kite.” Killua crammed his hands into his pockets, opting to raise a skeptical brow. 

“Yeah!” Gon jumped in shamelessly. “Kite, this is my best friend who I told you about.”

“I figured,” Kite replied coolly. He didn’t sound condescending, which was something new. Killua gave him the benefit of the doubt and proffered a handshake. 

Kite took it. “I trust your studies are going well? Why did you call me out on such a fine Friday?” 

“I was hoping you could tell us about Ging.” Gon fidgeted with his hands. “Killua got a job at HXH, too!”

“As a janitor,” he corrected upon seeing Kite’s mildly impressed expression. “Don’t leave out key details, Gon.”

Gon rolled his eyes. “Whatever. It’s still advantageous, right?”

“I suppose,” Kite shrugged. “I never once tried to work at a space association, so Ging would be a better person to ask.”

Gon grinned at the mention of his father.  “Killua, they went to the same college in Gorteau.”

“Was he as much of a prick back then as he is now?” Killua asked, genuinely, to Kite. 

Kite broke his chilly facade and roared out an unexpected laugh. Gon gave him a wounded look; the professor only laughed harder. 

“Way to sum up his character,” Kite sighed. “Yes, he was definitely rude and mischievous. I wouldn’t say as much, but worse, even.”

Killua snickered triumphantly. 

“He was always up to something or the other, be it random model rockets or flooded bathrooms.” 

“Rockets, huh? Sounds like Gon.” Killua nodded. Gon brightened. 

“And you, Mr. Mysterious Killua?” Kite led them to a decent cafe with outdoor seating and pulled up some chairs. 

“Me? Oh, right, space is cool.” He shrugged. He placed his hands on the tiled table and tapped his fingers together awkwardly as Gon inspected him. 

“Not music?” Kite asked, and Killua nearly toppled over. 

“Uh — I — where did you get that impression?”

Killua spluttered, trying to piece his image together. 

Kite gestured at his hands. “Your fingers.”

“What about them?” Killua narrowed his eyes in suspicion, lifting his hands and flipping them over. 

“Calloused fingertips.” Gon answered slowly, pulling Killua’s wrist forward. “Right? For strings?”

Kite nodded. “I’d think he was a gym junkie, but his hands are perfectly manicured. Except for the fingertips.”

“Wow, yeah, keep talking about me like I’m not here.” Killua huffed, forcing himself to drag his arms away and across his chest when Gon’s skin began to sink under his like fire.

“What do you play?” Kite asked. “Strings, I presume.”

“Did.” Killua corrected. “I don’t play anymore.”

“Oh, yeah, he was super good at the cello,” Gon gushed like it was a side hobby. Just something he did for fun, not something he breathed, lived, existed for. 

“I’m done with that, though.” He hurried to explain. 

“Then why haven’t the callouses faded?” Kite pointed out, almost looking amused. 

“None of your business.” Killua snapped. No one needed to know about moments of weakness, far in the depths of night, where he’d sneak out under the cover of Gon’s warmth to the music rooms and pluck the school-issued instruments, or pester his art major friends into letting him borrow their sheet music. 

“Anyways, I thought you were going to tell us about Ging?” 

“I was,” Kite continued. “He had a friend who played some instruments. I wasn’t a big fan of his. Kind of a freak.”

“Totally unlike the professor who analyzed me in under a minute.” Killua offered sarcastically. Gon pinched him under the table. 

Kite laughed again, softer. “He’s a good one, Gon. I’m sure we’re all proud of your best friend choice,”

Gon deflated. “Except for Killua. He just got stuck with me.”

Killua sighed woefully. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“I actually met you, Gon, some time ago.” Kite admitted after a pause. “I knew Ging back when you were just a baby, of course. Always getting into as much trouble as your father.” 

“Seriously?” Gon laughed. “That’s so cool!”

“Right until I had to rescue you from a zoo exhibit…” Kite groaned. 

Killua tilted his head in askance, and that was all the cue the professor needed to launch into a series of anecdotes involving Gon, Ging, and/or humiliation. 

For once, Killua could forget about why he was hesitant to take this oath in the first place. There’d always be ups and downs to every choice. 

It was time he faced them. 

***

“Happy birthday, Gon!” Killua uncovered his friend’s eyes, heart skipping at Gon’s astounded gasp. It only took him three hours of driving and a week of preparation, but the gift was done.

“The Meruem meteor shower? Are you kidding me?” Gon screeched, jumping excitedly as Killua led him away from the car towards the open field. He’d done his research and decided it was perfect to celebrate with Gon with the once in every three hundred year meteor shower, scheduled to peak in radiance on his birthday. 

The gods must love Gon, at least. Killua laughed and dragged him towards the center of the field, eyes straining in the dark morning hours. He flopped back onto the dew-wet grass, yanking Gon down with him, and produced two binoculars. 

“How–” Gon’s voice cracked. “I can’t believe you did this. This is insane.” 

“Hopefully you're not disappointed I didn’t bring a telescope?” Killua teased, rolling over to grin at Gon in the faint starlight. 

“Are you kidding me? This is freaking amazing! We get to —– I didn’t think I’d find a good place to watch the shower with all the light pollution, but you — jeez, Killua!” Gon sounded like an excited kid as he squirmed on the ground, already popping the lens caps off his binoculars. “I can’t…I can’t say how it feels. I don’t know.”

“Words are dumb.” Killua agreed, grabbing his own pair of binoculars – stolen, borrowed, same thing, et cetera, from Kite after lots of pleading and eventual pickpocketing. They waited under the canopy of night for the stars to fall like rain. 

“Space poop hurtling through the vacuum. I love it.” Gon agreed, shuffling closer and tipping his elbow onto Killua’s chest as he propped the binoculars over his face. 

“I’m glad, courtesy of me. Had to hustle so much dirt and junk to fall on your birthday.”

“Well. It’s perfect.” Gon announced. After a moment, he fell silent, enraptured by the sky. Killua sighed and looked up, taking in the huge black expanse, the wet ground under his back, Gon like a furnace at his side, the soft chirps of nocturnal birds. 

White streaks of light illuminated the ocean and all overhead, true to its name. It was beautiful. It looked like an orchestra thrumming in his bones, crescendoing endlessly on smooth bows and auditorium shells. Lying beneath it, Killua felt impossibly small and crepuscular. Just the streaks of washed out thistle-purple twilight left to battle with the real heroes. 

“Hey, Gon,” Killua whispered as dawn broached the atmosphere with delicate fingertips of rose gold. “Did you know the shower is named after the myth of Meruem?” 

“Hm? I’m not big on all that storytelling stuff and books like you and Zushi.” Gon set his binoculars aside, and Killua felt him turn his head to face him. 

“Then allow me to enlighten you,” Killua took a theatrically deep breath. “Meruem was a god, king of the gods, actually. He was so powerful, he got bored of heaven. So he came down to earth, to find a new thing to entertain himself with.” Killua’s voice lodged in his throat. “He quickly conquered all of the champion humans in their only talents. Sports, art, you name it. Until one day he met a peasant girl who only ever played a board game. Obviously, he wanted to play.”

“Like, monopoly?” Gon interrupted, fingers winding over Killua’s arm to thread their hands together. 

“No, doofus. Something like chess back in the day, probably like the height of their culture. This is ancient mythology. Things were different. They had philosophy or whatever.”

“I see.” 

“Anyway,” Killua coughed, looking up at the new-pink sky. “He challenged her to the game, and she readily offered her life if she lost. Meruem found the girl’s confidence increasingly offensive, especially when he found out she was blind.” 

“Did he smite her?”

“When did you become so violent?” Killua laughed. “Quit interrupting. He lost to her, actually, in the first round. So he demanded another round, which he lost. And another. And another. And he just kept losing.” Killua flexed his fingers around Gon’s. “He reminds me of you, actually. Remember when we were younger, and I’d beat you at a game? You just kept demanding rematches until you won.” 

“Mean.” Gon grumbled. “I always won eventually, didn’t I? Does Meruem ever win?” 

“You never won,” Killua corrected. “And no, neither does Meruem. He grew addicted to playing with her, day in and out, so much so that his heavenly powers began to wane from staying on earth for so long. In his time spent around her, he had become more and more mortal. Enough so to fall in love with her.” 

“When did you become so romantic?” 

“Shut up, you’re ruining the story. His fellow gods in heaven grew concerned for their king, and pleaded for him to return to the sky. He was so in love with this blind girl that he claimed he would rather die.

“Some say he only fell in love with her because he lost his powers, the equivalent for a god of a man going blind. Others say it was loving her that made him lose his powers. He didn’t need to see anymore. The gods, of course, claimed that her illness, her blindness, was corrupting him. So they forcibly dragged him up to the sky. He was so weakened from his time as a mortal that he couldn’t resist, and returned to heaven a mere shell of himself.” 

“Wow.” Gon whispered. “That's sad. Does he ever meet the girl again?” 

“No. But they say he used the last of his power to fall towards earth as light, hoping to illuminate her path.” 

“But she was blind. How would she see it?” Gon sat up so fast, Killua nearly jumped. He blinked down at Killua, eyes tragically wet, and pushed their hands down into his chest. 

“She…” Killua hadn’t really heard past that part of the myth. “She didn’t need to see it. She just knew.” 

“But how do we know for sure? That she knew Meruem died for her?” 

“We don’t know, but she did. Isn't that enough?” 

Gon bit his lip, brow furrowing. Killua sighed, slowly sitting up and dropping his hand. “Gon, it’s just a story. It’s not real. I’m just explaining why they named this meteor shower after Meruem; because it’s so bright and it falls around the constellation Komugi, that’s named after the girl. Astronomers have been charting the meteor shower for millennia.” 

Gon didn’t speak. 

“Gon, I–”

Gon promptly placed a hand to Killua’s shoulder and shoved him back down to the grass. 

“What the hell, man?” Killua barely got another word out before Gon leaned down and kissed him. 

“I can’t turn into meteor showers.” Gon explained hastily, releasing Killua and sitting up, leaving him to lie there breathlessly. He rubbed a hand over his lips. “But…I’m glad you’re my best friend.” 

“Okay.” Killua squeaked, eyes wide. It had been a while since Gon…did that. “You know you can just tell me that, right? You don’t have to like — force yourself or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Gon grinned cheekily, the sunrise glowing out from under his skin and lighting the horizon. “But words are dumb.” 

***

Now look what we've done

***

“Killua Zoldyck, was it?” 

Killua nodded at the office assistant. “Yep. Here for training.” 

“Oh, okay,” she said. “Come right on in, I’ll give you a card.” The assistant explained everything about the building, and what his job was. 

“You’ll come in at seven p.m. sharp and do a check through all of the major offices on the first and second floor. The third floor is the most in use, so don’t worry too much about that being kept perfect.”

She passed him a laminated card with his face and name on it, and a barcode on the back. “Use this to clock in and out. You must not throw anything away, even if it looks like scrap paper; just collect it in bins.”

“Okay.” He agreed monotonously. “What else?”

“Mopping after the rooms, go down the hall. You have to do the second and third floor. First floor is already covered.”

“By who?” 

She jerked a thumb at her chest. “By us. Anyway, that’s about it. Wipe down all surfaces, clean out the machines, and do not go into any locked rooms.”

“How would I?” Killua stared dully at her. “With my magic mop? Ohh, did the kaleidomoon scope give me away, or was it the portal gun?”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s a comedian. You can spend the first day with our other helper, and then you’re on your own. Most people will leave at six, but our main team can stay all night. They’ll lock up, no worries.”

“Okay, got it. Can I start, or what?” Killua asked. 

She rolled her eyes. “Right.” She called over someone to give him a tour. The building was decently big, as was expected, since it was placed in a far more isolated area due to the proximity of the launches. 

The walls and floor were a dreary off-white linoleum that reminded Killua why he never wanted to be here in the first place. But work was work, and work meant money. 

“Alright get started over there. I’ll see you,” the other assistant ordered after they completed a long circuit around the building. He turned swiftly and left Killua standing there, mop in hand. 

Well. This was going to be fun. 

Killua got started in the first conference room, cleaning up scrap paper and putting away mugs. As he got to wiping down the floors, he bumped into the whiteboard and sent an expo marker spiraling to the ground. 

With a grumble, he bent to pick it up and replaced it in its hook on the wall…then stopped in his tracks. Someone had forgotten to erase the whiteboard, or maybe intended to use it the next day. Killua blinked twice, taking in the messy green scrawls of confusing arrows and shitty rocket drawings coupled with neat, cramped numbers to the side. 

He figured they would be planning another mission soon, since the last one was some four or five years ago. But he hadn’t expected to stumble upon its workings right away. Setting aside the mop, Killua wiped his palms on his pants and picked up the marker again. He couldn’t do jack shit about the trajectory, but…why were they going to the moon now? 

Killua noted a bullet point list to the far side of the whiteboard, and edged over there to read it. Some of the words were downright unintelligible, but he made out what he could. 

Life (g.r.a.c.e) or energy 

Erosion

Rust 

Gypsum —> water 

Helium?

Killua paused. He was learning about this in class, of course, what with all the new discoveries. Minerals commonly around water, insane theories about moon rock’s ability to power cities…

Hastily, he scribbled down, sample next to He-3. After all, wouldn’t it be best to bring back more rocks? He paused, then added next to gypsum, not always water?, Other planet —> rules, 6 new galaxy theory?

(Lots of question marks, in case he was wrong.) Just as he was finishing his additions to the list, someone loudly cleared their throat. Killua jumped, dropping the marker. 

“What the…” He squeaked, twisting around towards the entrance of the room, where a woman propped herself against the doorframe. 

“Aren’t you the new janitor?” She asked, raising a skeptical brow. Killua quickly snatched up the mop, tucking his cap low and nodding. 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

She snorted. “The hell is this? Good Will Hunting?”

Killua frowned. “Um…what?”

“Zodiacs above,” she groaned, face palming. “Come over here.”

Tentatively, Killua returned the mop to the bucket and walked over. “Please don’t fire me.” He blurted. “I just wanted to help. I know you guys probably know more, or whatever, but this stuff just seemed so obvious.”

“Gonna make us all go deaf from tooting your own horn.” She deadpanned. Killua winced. 

The woman laughed loudly. “The name’s Dr. Krueger, formally anyway. Who are you?”

Killua fiddled with the name tag over his chest. “Killua, ma’am. Killua Zoldyck.”

“Just call me Bisky.” She coughed again. “Well, Mr. Zoldyck, show me what you’ve got.” She inclined her head towards the board. 

“Really?” Killua wrinkled his brow. “But this shit — um, this stuff is so boring.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Point taken.” The cap twisted off the marker with a satisfying squeal as he went back to writing. “Here, so I started with the mineral that usually forms in deposits…”

***

“SHE INVITED YOU TO AN—MMPH.” Killua clamped a hand over Gon’s mouth as his friend screamed for joy, glancing around, embarrassed. 

“Pipe down!” He hissed. “Not like the whole world needs to know!”

Gon clawed his hand. “That’s insane, Killua! I can’t believe you got a real internship at HXH! Do you not see how amazing that is?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Killua flushed. “Good thing I messed around with the whiteboard and stuff. Never thought she’d walk in right on me.”

“So are you still going to do the janitor gig?”

“I think so. Dr. Krueger — er, Bisky — hasn’t really told anyone else about wanting me to get an internship. She might wait it out a bit, so I get to know everyone? But I’ll definitely get it.”

Gon wrapped him in a tight hug. “Gosh, I’m so excited. This is incredible, Killua.” 

Killua’s heart thundered in his chest. Incredible? Like Gon could talk, being the sun himself. 

“I’ll bring you up, too.” Killua struggled to get the words out, gently pushing Gon away. “Soon, we’ll get there. Soon.”

Gon nodded, eyes aflame. “Yes. Soon.”

***

Bisky emailed Killua some weeks later that he could officially join the team, and should start showing up on weekends. So that fine morning he grabbed his rusty blue spray painted bike and took off down the streets towards the HXH establishment. 

Now, Killua was a careful person. Sure, there were midnight moments of recklessness where he strayed too close to the train tracks, or considered tipping his weight just so over the railing of a balcony, but he never acted on these thoughts. 

Which is why it was completely unexpected when he turned a corner and crashed straight into another biker. He yelled, jerking his handlebars sharply in an attempt to disentangle himself, but he braked too sharply and flew right over his front wheel. He threw out his hands, crumpling to the concrete pavement with a groan. 

Hot pain flared across his legs and wrists, which supported all his weight. When he tried to sit up, his elbow sang with agony and collapsed beneath him. His eyes slid shut. 

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” Killua forced his eyes open. The other biker seemed to come out a lot less scathed, kicking off their twisted bikes and stumbling over to Killua. “I’m so sorry. Dude, are you okay? Oh no. Ohhhh no.” 

Rough hands wrapped around his shoulders, and he feebly shrugged him off. 

“Get off me.” Killua ordered, wincing. 

“Oh, my god. Did you break anything?”

“Ugh…” Killua tried and failed to move his hands. “Ow. Can’t move my hands.”

“That looks—“ the person carefully lifted Killua upright, propping him against a fire hydrant. “Wow, that looks awful. Why is it bent like that? I’m gonna puke…” 

“Get a grip, asshole.” Killua groaned. “I think it’s sprained.”

“How are you not passed out? A-and sprained? Do you see your wrists?” 

Killua blinked slowly, looking down. “Fuck.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll call an ambulance.” 

“No…not an ambulance…too expensive…” Killua ordered. “How’s my bike?”

“How the hell are you thinking about the bike?” 

“What’s your name?” Killua asked. 

“Ikalgo,” he answered dutifully. 

“Ikalgo, go check if my fucking bike is broken.” 

There was some shuffling, and a few pitying hisses as strangers passed by. All either averted their eyes or switched to the opposite sidewalk entirely. 

“Um, so, about your bike…” Ikalgo returned to his line of vision. “I’ll cover the costs. Now let’s get you to a hospital.”

“How’s your bike? Just bike me there.” Killua muttered drowsily, adrenaline wearing off. “It’s not too far…I think there’s a bunch of universities around here, too. Bound to be a hospital. My ID’s in my back pocket...”

“You want me to bike you to a hospital? What the hell?! No way!” 

“If you…” Killua‘s vision blurred. “If you call an ambulance, I’ll sue you.”

And then the world went dark. 

***

“Two broken wrists and a sprained elbow.” The doctor announced, setting a glass of water at his bedside. 

“Just kill me now. Zodiacs, leave it to me to get hospitalized on my first day to work.” Killua glared at his bandaged arms. 

“Right. I need to clear you for surgery.”

“Surgery?” Killua whispered. That’s going to be so expensive… “Can’t I just wait it out?” 

The doctor deadpanned. “No, Mr. Killua Zoldyck, you can’t just wait it out. Now let me give you a rundown of the procedure, and then I’ll need confirmation from you.” 

Killua bit the inside of his cheek. “Fine.” 

Dr. Paladiknight, Killua read on his name tag, explained how everything that was going to be done, and Killua finished consenting to all that was needed. “Okay. We’ll prepare you now.”

They gave him some anesthetic, and it was over in a blink. They gave his arms identical chunky casts, and turned him over to his hospital room. 

“You’ll stay for one night for monitoring, then be discharged.” Paladiknight said. “You have a visitor. Should I let him in?”

Killua’s eyes widened. Did someone alert Gon of his predicament? Surely he’d get suspicious when Killua didn’t come back tonight. 

“Yep,” he smiled. 

In through the doors burst…

“Ikalgo?” Killua blinked, startled. 

“Hi! I’m so, so, sorry about everything! Don’t worry, I already agreed to pay for the surgery.” He rushed to Killua’s side. “Are you okay?”

“You didn’t have to pay.” Killua said dumbly. “I’m just a stranger. It wasn’t really your fault.”

“Yeah, but if I walked away it wouldn’t be much of a world worth living in, would it?”

Killua blinked. “…sure. At least let me pay you back with a meal.”

“It’s fine, really. Well. Actually. That would be nice. Biking with an unconscious person was both physically and socially taxing.”

Killua winced. “Thanks for that. It means a ton. Um, I’m not gonna sue you, obviously. I was an idiot, too.”

“I’m just glad you weren’t so much of an idiot as to not wear a helmet. This could have turned out a lot worse…” Ikalgo laughed. 

“Oh, hey, I just realized I never formally introduced myself.” Killua star up straight. “Killua Zoldyck. Nice to meet you.”

“I know,” Ikalgo rushed to add, “I saw your student ID when I was checking you in. Uh, Ikalgo Tako. Nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but…”

Killua snorted, then paused. “Wait, wait, did you say Ikalgo Tako?”

Ikalgo looked to the side and huffed. “Yeah?”

“Your name is squid-octopus? That’s hilarious!” Killua burst into laughter. 

“Get it all out of your system,” Ikalgo droned, though he did crack a small smile. “Say, where were you in such a rush to, anyway?”

“Oh, I just got this internship. HXH, big deal and all…”

“No way — HXH? I’m starting my internship today, too!” Ikalgo exclaimed. “That’s so cool!”

Killua grinned. “Hey, what a coincidence!” He stopped. “But if that was your destination, then why were you heading in the wrong direction?”

Ikalgo’s cheeks grew dark. He ran a hand through his thick dark hair, brown roots sprouting from the fake vermillion tangles. “Um. I may or may not be…cartographically challenged?” 

“I can’t believe the man who almost killed me today is a cephalopod who can’t follow google maps.”

“You know what, Killua?” Ikalgo beamed, pulling up a chair. The cold light bounced off his warm brown eyes. “I think we’re going to get along great.” 

“You’ll just stick to me, won’t you? Or should I say suction—“ 

They laughed together, uncontrollably, until Killua’s arms hurt from too much movement. 

“Alright, I emailed Dr. Krueger about the holdup. We’ll be fine to hang around for a bit longer.” Ikalgo nodded. 

“Oh, you should go. I wouldn’t want to—“

“Is anyone coming for you?” Ikalgo interrupted. Killua bit his lip. Gon still hadn’t shown up. Not that he was supposed to, or anything. But after everything that had happened, he sort of expected…

“I don’t know.”

“Then I’ll wait.” He nodded. “Right here.”

“Thanks,” Killua whispered. “That means a lot.”

***

Ikalgo did leave after some time — a future lunch planned out — and Killua spent the night staring at the hospital ceiling. He was lucky he was only missing a Saturday and Sunday; classes would be worse. Hopefully he would be allowed to get straight back to his studies. He couldn’t afford to miss anything. 

Moonlight rippled through the window, splattering silver across the tiles. It was a beautiful night. Gon was probably enjoying it.

Sighing, Killua tried to get some sleep. When he awoke, he borrowed a phone to call Gon, his unslung arm hanging awkwardly at his side. 

“Hey, Gon. Can you come pick me up?”

“Where are you?”

“The hospital, down by HXH. The — I think it’s called NGL? Yeah, there.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” Gon hung up. 

He was, in fact, there soon. Killua waved stiffly with a weak smile as Gon burst through the doors, wrapping him in a tight hug. 

“Everything okay? I didn’t hear from you earlier.” Gon pulled away quickly, inspecting Killua. 

“Yeah, I just got into a little biking accident. Broken wrists and sprained elbow.” 

“That sounds awful. Come on, let’s get you out of here.” They drove to Killua’s dorm, where Gon opened all the doors for him and acted like the picture perfect friend, all the while his eyes remained dull. 

If that wasn’t humiliating enough, he had to help Killua into his clothes. “It sucks that you missed the first day of the internship.” Gon commented. 

“Yeah, it also sucks that I broke thirteen bones, but whatever.” Killua muttered. Gon finished pulling a shirt over his head, mouth pressed into a thin line, and Killua dropped his raised arms with a wince. “Sorry. That was rude. I don’t know why I said that.”

“You want me to stay here?” Gon asked instead like it wasn’t obvious what Killua wanted. 

Killua looked down. “If it’s not a bother.” 

Gon patted his back mechanically. “Of course it’s not. Now come on, I’ll get us dinner.”

Killua nodded, carefully sitting in his chair as Gon went out. Gon returned half an hour later with disgusting lettuce bowls. 

“Sorry, this was all the convenience store had left. I didn’t wanna make you wait any longer, since I figured you hadn’t eaten in a while.” 

“Right.” Killua nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Gon. That’s really kind.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Now come on, get some pajamas on.” Gon rolled his eyes and went to (probably) pick out the ugliest thing he could find. Which was nonexistent, because Killua didn’t own ugly things. 

“This is embarrassing.” Killua mumbled, looking to the side, because nothing was romantic about his best friend helping him put pants on. 

“Really?” Gon asked, eyes glinting. His hands stopped. “I think you’ll get embarrassed by just about anything.”

“Um.” Killua felt his face flush. “The salad’s… getting warm?

“Salads are cold.” Gon blinked. 

“Exactly!” Killua jumped. “It’s cold! So we should eat now, before it’s um, before it warms up to room temperature!” He yelped, face red. 

“You’re so weird.” Gon laughed. He popped open the Styrofoam containers with a sigh, plucking out a fork and spearing a piece of lettuce. He raised it intimidatingly to Killua’s face.  “Don’t tell me you need the choo-choo train.” 

Killua kicked him. 

***

Stop trying to keep us alive

***

After another week of recovery, Killua was allowed to attend HXH, with casts of course. He needed a humiliating amount of help to get through the front door but passing the woman who trained him on his first day was so worth it. When Ikalgo rushed ahead to open another door, he glared at her and twirled, miming a sailor moon transformation. It was poorly imitated with both arms encased in plaster but her side-eye was incredibly satisfying. 

“Killua, are you coming or not?” Ikalgo called. He grinned one more time at the lady, then jogged after him. 

“Right, right, Mr. Tako.”

“Oh, shove it. Bisky told me all about how you got accepted into the program, Hunting.”

“I have no idea what that means.” Killua snapped. “Maybe the octopus needs a dictionary.” 

“Maybe the janitor needs a job,” Ikalgo teased back, promptly kicking open the final door to the conference room. Every eye in the room landed on the two of them. Killua only recognized two faces, apart from Ikalgo.

“Dr. Krueger,” He greeted Bisky as she walked over to him.

“I said it’s Bisky. Anyway, so sorry to hear about your arms. I keep telling Ikalgo to be more responsible.” 

“Want icing on the cake? He was going in the wrong direction.” Killua laughed. Ikalgo glowered at him while Bisky burst out into laughter. 

“All hospitalizations aside, we’re glad to have you back, little Hunting.”

“My name is Killua.” He deadpanned. 

“Yeah don’t worry, we’ll grow on you.”

Like mold, he thought with a grin.

Now come on in, we were just looking over our appeal on bringing back rocks.”

“You have to appeal for that?”

“You’d be surprised how much pressure is on the association. We’ve already been rejected twice.” Bisky explained, leading them into the room and seating them in plastic chairs. It was then Killua made eye contact with the second person he recognized.

“Dr. Serbia?” He gasped. 

“It’s Siberia, and who are you?” the woman next to him blinked, spinning to face him.

“Oh, do we not — I swear I’ve met you somewhere.” Killua strained his memory. “Did you used to work at YSSA? I did a tour there with my friend years ago.” 

“Yes, I used to work there. But I gave tours every day I don’t remember any–ohh, you were the one with that super boring kid. The one who looked like he didn’t want to be there. Complained during the launch, and everything.”

“No, that was me. My friend was the super stoked one.” Killua yawned.

Dr. Siberia shifted away from him. “Oh. You.”

Bisky clapped both of their shoulders suddenly, taking a chair further away. “Glad to see you all caught up. Killua, this is Dr. Palm Siberia, a chemist on our team for this project. May you get along well enough not to be a pain.” She smiled all too sweetly, and chills ran up Killua’s spine. 

“R-right,” he agreed quickly. Bisky’s smile widened, and they continued their discussion. 

Killua tried to listen intently and absorb everything they talked about, but it was all mind-numbingly boring. Sure, life on other planets as a theory was interesting, but when it came down to the nitty gritty logistics, it was dreadful. They spent three hours talking about a rock.

A rock. A rock. 

He did meet some interesting people, though. Dr. Kurta? Definite psycho. Cold, brown eyes that glinted red and an expression so lifeless Killua thought he might be outstripped in terms of I don’t want ot fucking be here. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to participate too much, since he was just there on an internship. But he did have to witness all of their nerdy excitement as they brandished models stolen from the engineers. It was kind of enjoyable to see people in their element, but it was offset by being out of his own. 

At seven, Bisky dismissed them, all except Killua. “I know it’s unfair to ask you this,” she began unsteadily as everyone packed up. “But do you want to keep your janitor job? After you heal, of course. It could be extra cash, and I figured it would be easier for you to stay after hours if you're already here.” 

“Um.” Killua looked down. “Yeah. I think I need it, too. Extra cash would be nice.” 

“Good. Thanks, Killua.” Bisky smiled, less threatening this time and more sincere. “I think we’re going to find ourselves really lucky to have you here.”

“Skip the lip service; I already agreed.” Killua shrugged. “I have six or seven more weeks on this thing. I get my casts off next week, though. So…I’ll see when I’m cleared to keep working.”

“I’m not lying to your face, Killua. I only lie about murder.” Bisky informed him curtly. “Now go home and rest those bones.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. Bisky rolled her eyes. “Ikalgo is going to be such a bad influence on him. Or vice versa.” 

“I’d say we’re developing each other’s characters,” Killua snickered. Bisky groaned, shoving him out the door. 

“Sure. Good night!”

“Night.”

***

Killua watched the television with wide eyes. Another random victim left for dead, decapitated with lacerations and stitches all over their body. 

“Why the hell do they show this stuff at a grocery store?” Killua hissed to Ikalgo, nudging his elbow. His friend’s eyes were also transfixed on the tiny box tv shoved into the corner of the desk. It was a small, family owned store so everything was a bit more informal. But murders on TV? 

“It’s a scary city, man,” Ikalgo shook his head, moving up in line as the woman in front finished paying. “The murders have been skyrocketing. More gangs are forming, or something.” He glanced up at the flashing headlines. “Yeesh. Lock your doors, huh?” 

“Locked doors don’t stand much to any basic bludgeoning tool,” Killua pointed out. “Even kicking, or any pressure in the right spots will knock it down.” 

Ikalgo’s usually warm brown face paled. “Should I be concerned as to how you know that?”

Killua shrugged. “My brother was an asshole.” 

They moved forward in line again. “I don’t think that’s a good descriptor for kicking down doors.”

“I wished he only kicked down doors. Would have made things simpler.” Killua frowned. Upon seeing Ikalgo’s floored jaw, he quickly tacked on, “Kidding. Ha-ha. Look, it’s our turn.” 

Ikalho upended his armful of freezer-stored meat, flour, and fish flakes. While they paid, Ikalgo using Killua’s wallet as agreed, Killua’s eyes wandered to the tiny television again. Serial killer? Police are unsure as the investigation will continue. The reporter looked blankly into the camera like he was listing the weather forecast and not listing off dead people. 

“He could stand to look a little more sad, right?”

“Eh. Must be a desensitizing job.” Ikalgo shrugged, grabbing their groceries and loading it into his backpack. They walked out into the warm summer air, the sun beating down ruthlessly. Killua held his arms out and Ikalgo carefully slung the backpack onto his shoulders. They hopped on his bike, Killua careful to wrap his bandaged forearms tight as they took off for Ikalgo’s apartment. 

“So, remind me what we’re making?” Ikalgo asked, pulling out the fish flakes with a confused expression. “Or, I guess I’m making it since little Hunting is incapacitated.” 

“Kill a guy, stand by it.” Killua warned, raising his arms. “Face your sins.” 

“Wow. Love that. Anyways, what—” Ikalgo froze when he pulled out the plastic wrapped meat. “No.” He whispered, looking up at Killua. “Tell me you didn’t. You did not.”  

“Didn’t do what?” Killua asked innocently, sliding into a seat at the kitchen island. Ikalgo’s place sure was nice. 

Ikalgo threw down the package. “Explain. Now.” 

Killua glanced down at the octopus meat. “Oh, did I forget to mention? We’re making takoyaki.” 

“You just have a death wish, don’t you?” Ikalgo narrowed his eyes, rolling up his sleeves. 

“No,” Killua grinned, pointing to the food. “But your cousin did.” 

Ikalgo sobbed. “I can’t wait for your selfish ass to graduate so I can murder you. ”

“Why wait?”

“Well, you paid for college. Not gonna let that go to waste, right?” 

Killua burst into laughter. “You’re ridiculous. I hate it.” 

“Nah. You love it.” 

“Whatever, whatever.” 

They cooked quickly (Killua watching in fascination as Ikalgo did all the work, half-crying half-wheezing) and soon the meal was finished, though it was more of a snack. Killua finished his portion with little help from Ikalgo, he was proud to admit. His wrists were almost healed. Ikalgo dropped him off at his dorm, bidding the debt fulfilled. 

“I do wanna say,” Ikalgo grinned as Killua approached the campus. “Just because you paid doesn’t make up for the fact that I did all the cooking. I would not call this a successful lunch.”

“Pity,” Killua sighed. “Does that mean we have to make lunch again?” 

“I guess so.” Ikalgo sighed tragically. “We might even have to invite everyone from the team…”

“No…” Killua gasped. “You mean a cookout? Why would you suggest something so cruel?”

“Can’t help myself.” Ikalgo rubbed his knuckles over Killua’s head. 

“Hands off,” he warned with a smile. “Or I’m calling the authorities.” 

“Lock your door, sweetie,” He teased. 

“Killua?” 

Killua whirled around, surprised to see Gon walking towards him, backpack slung over one shoulder. 

“Hey, Gon. What are you doing here?”

“Just stopping by since I was visiting Kite. Who are you?”

“Ika–”

“That’s Mr. Tako.” Killua cut in. “You should refer to him with some respect. He’s thirty.” 

“Twenty-two!” Ikalgo yelled, jumping back. “Don’t make me sound creepy.” 

Gon blinked slowly. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Tako. Come on, Killua. Do you need help with your brace?” 

“Um. Sure. Bye Mr. Tako!” Killua called, waving and jogging ahead of Gon. “Thanks for lunch!”

“Take care of yourself, little Hunting!” Ikalgo turned and left. 

“Tako? Really?” Gon raised a brow, slipping the other strap of his backpack up. 

“His name’s Ikalgo. He’s with us at HXH.”

“Huh. Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Hm? Oh, he’s the one who hit me with his bike,” Killua explained nonchalantly. 

“What?!” Gon yelled, stumbling. 

“Yep, that’s why we had lunch. He paid for everything, and I felt bad, so…”

“He seems cool,” Gon grinned, catching himself. “He’s out of college?”

“Yes, just recently. He’s chill, I guess. I’m lucky he’s the one who broke my wrists and not some jerk who could have just disappeared.”

“True that.” Gon nodded, following Killua to his dorm. “I’d like to hang out with him. What does he like about HXH?” 

“Aw, come on, I was hoping you’d be jealous,” Killua sighed as Gon led him in. “Spending time with my new friend and all.”

“Ha!” Gon snorted, walking to the drawer to retrieve his new doctor-issued brace. “What’s there to be jealous of? We’re best friends.” 

“Right. Glad you have faith in us.” Killua sighed, sitting down in his chair. Gon knelt before him and gently unraveled the tight bandages, running his hand down the raw skin. 

“I think the hand and wrists are the most complex bones in the body.” Gon said suddenly. “Cool thing is that it’s all healed up now, huh? Medicine has come so far.” 

Killua winced as his thumb dug in too deep. “Not all healed.”

“Oops, sorry. Here.” Gon wrapped the brace snug around his arm, and did the same for his other wrist. 

“So…” Killua stood as soon as Gon was done. “What did you and Kite talk about?”

“He told me more about Ging. It’s super interesting, everything that they knew about each other.” 

“Did Ging ever visit Kite?”

“Ging doesn’t visit anyone.” Gon explained like it was obvious. “That’s why I don’t get offended when he doesn’t come to see me, no matter how hard you try to paint him out as a bad person.” 

“Excuse me for trying to be a good friend,” Killua rolled his eyes. 

“You don’t need to try. You’re already great. Anyway, what did you guys talk about at HXH?” Gon blazed on. 

“Forget that,” Killua interrupted. “Did you hear about all the murders happening on the streets? It’s insane.”

“Killua,” Gon frowned. “We’re safe here. Your broth–”

“Not my brother, idiot. He doesn’t kill people. Ha-ha.” Killua hesitated. “I mean the serial killer.”

“Oh!” Gon’s eyes widened. “Yeah, yeah I saw that on the news! Did you see that leaked footage of the man?”

“What man?”

“Well, they don’t know for sure if it’s a man, but there’s some guy going around killing murderers. Like criminals, not necessarily out of prison.”

“A vigilante or something?” Killua gasped animatedly. “Holy shit, that’s so cool! Do you have the video?”

“Yeah!” Gon pulled out his phone, opening a link. It really was hard to tell who the person was, cloaked in a dark ski mask and elaborate royal blue and gold clothes. “He dresses super uniquely. It’s like his brand. As far as they’ve seen, he’s only going after criminals in a certain gang. He’s already killed two.” 

“Wow…” Killua gasped. “Wait, he uses chains to kill them?” 

“He uses them like garrotes, and chokes them. Or stabs. He’s super symbolic, whoever be are.” 

“I can’t believe it. That seems like something straight out of a movie.” 

“Right? Makes you feel safer, even though he's kinda violent.”

“Not really. He doesn’t seem like the hero-type. More like he would totally kill you in a standoff if it came down to revenge or saving citizens.” 

“You sound ready to write a book on them,” Gon teased. 

Killua brightened. “Maybe I should.” 

“Anyway, we should turn in early. I don’t think going out late is a good idea anymore either.” Gon yawned and stood to leave, for once sleeping in his own room.

“Right, good idea. Don’t die.” Killua said suddenly, sitting up. 

Gon nodded. “You, too.” 

***

The next morning, Killua walked into HXH and was met with one grump looking Kurapika Kurta. 

“Hey, Dr. Kurta,” he greeted, sidling past him at the coffee machine. His eye bags were deeper than ocean trenches, hair riled and unruly like he ascended from bed and teleported to work. 

“Yes.” He replied dully.

“Uh. Okay.” Killua snatched his own coffee. 

“Yes.” He repeated. Killua decided to leave him alone, opting to chat up Ikalgo with the information Gon had shared earlier. Apparently there were even more videos online of the mysterious vigilante, who people had started calling the chain-user. A very lame name, if you asked Killua, but no one did. 

Killua glanced down at the screen, then over at Kurapika. “Did you hear about the chain-user?” He asked him, wandering over. He got no response, so he sighed defeatedly and sat down. 

Things, however, did not just end there. Every day at work, he and Ikalgo, and eventually Palm, watched the new videos of the chain-user. Most of the team joined in to conspire as to who the chain-user was, although Bisky claimed she was above that. 

“Imagine if it was someone here,” Palm joked one day, leaning over the table and lowering her voice ominously. Meleoron, an astronaut in training, promptly screeched and ran into the bathroom. Kurapika rolled his eyes and excused himself. 

“That would be so sick.” Killua agreed. 

And it just. Got. Worse. 

Another morning, Kurapika came in exceptionally late, hair soaked through and through from the usual summer rains. As he shuffled over for his usual coffee, Ikalgo bumped into him, spilling hot liquid everywhere. 

“Shoot, I’m so sorry,” He fumbled to help Kurapika wipe down his already-sopping clothes. Kurapika shrugged him off, and as Killua went in to help, he noticed something on the cuff of Kurapika’s usually pristine white shirt. Three red dots. And right around his wrist was a single bracelet made of chains. 

When they locked eyes, Kurapika’s gaze was so intent and burning that Killua immediately took a step back. 

Maybe it was time to stop sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

He didn’t bring up the chain-user after. 

***

The deaths began to die down (no pun intended, though Killua laughed it off with Ikalgo), and the streets weren’t so violent anymore. Gon had oddly stopped showing up at his dorm though, and since they had no classes together, Killua rarely saw him. Whenever he called, it always went to voicemail. 

Now scrolling the internet mindlessly as midnight struck, Killua was just about to close the news app on his phone (only downloaded after an insane prompting from Gon) when something caught his eye.

Another joins the dead after a seeming respite. When will these murders stop? Found decapitated with lashes and stitches just like many others, beloved college professor Kite Scythe–

Killua dropped his phone. 

No. No. No. Kite. Not Kite… it couldn’t be real.

But he knew. He knew it was. 

Killua’s instincts kicked in before the shock had time to freeze him in place, and he was already yanking on shoes, making sure to grab his phone. He rang Gon’s number to no avail and tore out the door in search of Gon. If he wasn’t going to answer calls, fine. Killua would go to him. 

How long have you known? Killua thought, sprinting. The news wouldn't have hit the media until some days after the death. How long had Gon been keeping this from him? How long had he…

Killua reached Gon’s room, knocking anxiously at the door. His roommate took one look at Killua and rolled his eyes. “He’s not here. Left three days ago, haven’t seen him since.” 

“Where?” Killua demanded, guilt churning in his stomach. Gon was gone for three days? “Where did he go? Did he leave a note?” 

“Hell if I know. Muttered something about Neo street and took off.”

“Neo street. Okay.” Killua nodded, whipping around and leaving as fast as he could. Rain skewered his vision, pouring from the overcast night sky. Killua hadn’t bothered to grab a jacket, but it didn’t matter. There wasn’t time. Gon needed him, needed him now and he couldn’t afford to waste a second. Killua ran as fast as he could, down the familiar avenues until he reached Neo street. It was probably where Kite lived…yes. Right around the corner—

Killua froze.

Hunched in the middle of the street was a dark silhouette of a person…no, two people…

Killua forced his legs to move, forced himself to run, feet splashing through puddles as rain pooled in the potholed road, soaking his sneakers through. He could barely see, barely control his own body as he dove forward, slipping on the wet ground and scraping his knee painfully against the tar. He shoved himself up to his feet and ran, ran for the boy who screamed ferociously. 

“Gon!” Killua screamed, running faster, faster, faster, still too fucking slow.  “Gon! GON!” He roared. Killua skidded to a stop in front of the sight. Faint white from the glowing lamp posts spilled onto the street, reflecting in the water as dull circles of light. 

All of it landed upon Gon, sweet Gon. 

Gon, once so delicate, once so lovely, once a sunrise raised as a boy, was now unrecognizable. He pinned a strange man down into the ground, fists flying, burying into his face over and over and over again. Blood spurted with each movement, draining away from the man in rivulets of diluted pink, trickling into the rain and spewing down the grates. 

“GON!” Killua yelled, one final time, intercepting the two. He yanked Gon back, heaving with all his might as he ripped Gon off the stranger. 

“LET ME GO!” He screamed, thrashing. Killua dropped his phone in all the throes. “YOU’RE RUINING EVERYTHING!” He tossed his head back into Killua’s skull, but still Killua held on tight, bright stars exploding in his weakened vision. The man on the ground was unconscious, blood still seeping out of his silvery hair. 

“Gon, stop.” Killua ordered, falling to one knee and dragging Gon down with him. “Just stop. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not fucking okay!” He shouted. “You have no idea what you’re doing!” 

Killua stared grimly at the incapacitated man. “Is he…is he the one?”

“Yes, he’s the fucking one! Which you would know if you actually cared!” Gon screamed. “Kite’s dead! Kite’s dead and you did nothing!” 

Killua’s chest griped all of a sudden. “I didn’t…I’m so sorry Gon. I didn’t know. You just disappeared, and I–” 

“You fucking did this. You! You should have helped,” he snarled. “But of course you didn’t. Now let me finish what I started!” 

“No.” Killua glared, twisted his hands tight into Gon’s hair and forcibly lowered him to the ground, pinning him with one leg. “You have no clue what you just did. I’m calling the police.” 

“No! I have to–” Gon clawed at his arms, kicking him back. “He left traces everywhere! I tracked him down. I did.” 

“I know, Gon.” Killua said, hand skimming the wet ground as he found his phone. He dialed the emergency line, raising his cracked screen to his ear. 

“Yes. We need help! Please. 405 Neo street, yeah.” Killua dropped his phone with an exhausted sigh, and nearly fell over when Gon moved. He arched his back and ripped Killua’s hands away. Grip tight on his wrists, Gon twisted painfully, where the scars of Killua’s surgery still left him in agony. 

Gon kneed him in the stomach, and Killua choked, the wind knocked out of him. 

“Get off me!” Gon demanded. He pulled his fist back and punched Killua, hard. Pain exploded in his jaw. “You just destroyed everything! I could have–”

“You could have what?” Killua snarled, clutching his cheek. “Killed him? That would make you a murderer, too. And surprise, it wouldn’t bring Kite ba–” The last thing Killua registered was another sharp sting in his face as it was him Gon attacked now.

“You don’t get to say his name,” Gon yelled, slamming him down into the wet road. He socked him again in the face, and again, and again, until he felt hot liquid pour from his cracked nose. Warm drops of water hit his cheeks, warmer than the rain. As Killua shoved his arms up, trying to protect his face, he caught a glimpse of Gon’s glistening hickory eyes.  

Crying. Gon was crying. Killua made Gon cry. 

Blood flooded his mouth, crossed his tongue, bitter and metallic. Killua licked his lips clean and let the rain wash away any memories of Gon there. Nails dug into his arms as Gon squeezed his shoulders.

“Gon.” Killua said, throat thick with blood. “Gon — stop. You’re—” You’re hurting me. It hurts. It was nothing on what his family put him through, but it hurt so much more.

“You’re probably glad that he’s dead.”

Killua felt white hot rage burst through his veins. He tilted his head to the side and promptly bit Gon’s hand. Taking advantage of his temporary confusion, Killua threw Gon off and scrambled to his feet, panting. “I hate you!” Killua shouted. “You’re a fake! I dedicated everything to you, and you’re still  a fucking liar!” 

“You’re nothing,” Gon seethed, kicking him one last time. “Absolutely nothing. You hear me? Go lie in a ditch and die for all I care.” 

Killua couldn’t breathe. Rain still poured like the wrath of the sky bleeding onto their faces, and he wasn’t sure why the water stung hot and salty against his eyes. His mouth hung open, and he begged his mind for any sort of retort. But his tongue fell flat, and his ribs constricted again, tighter, a noose around his lungs. 

Gon was right. Killua was wrong. Gon was always something, always everything, always dawn on the silver clouds. Killua was never worth anything without him. He’d gotten it all wrong, backwards. And now it was finally catching up to him. 

“I…” Killua whispered pathetically, voice lost to the hiss of rain. But before he could get another word out, red and blue lights flared across the block. 

Gon glared. “Go on, Killua. Run away again. It’s all you do, anyway.” 

Breaths burning like fire up his esophagus, Killua took a trembling step back. Gon’s fists, once stained in blood, were washed clean by the torrents up above. Now it was Killua’s turn to bleed. 

He took another step. 

And another. 

Then, 

“No.” Killua glared back. I won’t leave you. 

“The hell do you mean, no?” Gon yelled. “Just go! I don’t want to see you ever again!”

“No.” Killua repeated, firmer. “Because you’re just as scared and I won’t leave you.” 

The lights approached with wailing sirens that burned through his ears, lights searing his eyes, and Killua truly lost his senses. But he had enough of them left to take one step forward, towards Gon, even as Gon backed away.

I won’t leave you, Gon. 

Because then I’d really be nothing. 

Chapter Text

***

You're pointing at stars in the sky that already died

***

“Long time no see,” Leorio Paladiknight slapped on a pair of gloves and walked over, glasses glinting in the morning sunlight. It had stopped raining. 

Killua looked away, eyes watery. He didn’t feel like talking to Leorio, even though he’d been his attending doctor since he broke his wrists and a hilarious man. 

“Let’s see what we’ve got.” Leorio sighed, crouching beside him. “Broken nose and some bruises. Your wrists are hurt again. Not bad; 22 on the ISS.”

“The hell is an ISS?” Killua finally spoke. 

Leorio smiled. “Just a score to see how injured you are. I’m surprised you’re so beaten up, though. Your wrists are a wreck again. Does not look pretty.”

“Whatever.” Killua muttered. He could still feel Gon’s viselike grip twisting his wrists, could still feel knuckles digging into his face, could still feel lips against his own. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

“How does the other guy look?” Leorio offered jokingly. 

Killua spat out blood. “He’s in jail.” 

Leorio paled. “Oh. Sorry I asked,” he reached over to make some notes. “Well, the best we can do for your nose is give you a nasal splint. It’s not gonna be pretty.”

“Do I look pretty right now?” Killua snapped. Even he had seen his purple-bruised face in the mirror. 

“Are there any right answers to that question?” Leorio asked hesitantly, and Killua scoffed. He didn’t want to talk. He knew Leorio was being kind, but right now all he wanted was to curl up in the corner and sob until his ribs cracked. 

“When can I leave?” Killua asked in response. 

Leorio finished attaching a strange device to his nose. “Soon, buddy. Let me get you a thicker brace for those wrists. It’s not looking good.”

“Yeah, nothing seems to be lately.” Killua muttered. Leorio gave him a pitying look, then stood to retrieve whatever devices Killua needed. 

In his absence, Killua raised a trembling hand to his face and gently pressed down on his eye. Dull pain flared, and he pressed harder, wincing. 

Good. 

Pain was good. 

It meant he wasn’t nothing, not yet. 

***

Killua walked out of the NGL hospital with a sore nose and thickly wrapped wrists. He stopped by the bank and, struggling, wrote a check for 300,000 jenny, safely tucking the envelope into his pocket. That was the majority of his savings from working as a janitor.

Then he walked four kilometers to the police station.  

“Posting bail?” 

Killua stared at the clerk. “Yes. For Gon Freecs.”

“Freecs…yes, he’s here. Charged with battery; magistrate says three hundred—-“

“I know.” Killua interrupted. He slapped the envelope down. “Here. Can I see him?” 

The clerk took the check and jerked his head at one of the officers. They led Killua to the few holding cells, stopping in front of the first one. 

“Hey.” Killua said, and he swore his voice sounded awfully whiny. 

Gon looked up, eyes dark. “What?”

“Come on.” Killua cleared his throat.  “Let’s go.” 

Gon stood slowly as the barred door swung open, carefully stepping out. When no one made any other moves, he followed Killua, out of the station and down the block. “Did you pay?” He asked. 

Killua looked down at his hand, tendons straining as he made a weak fist. He looked back up at Gon, who gazed listlessly at nothing, and promptly punched him. Gon barely flinched, head whipping to the side at the force. Still in a daze, as if the world wasn’t worth his attention. 

“That’s payback.” Killua asserted, hands shaking. Then he shook his head, and walked away. 

Waiting for Gon to call after him. Waiting for footsteps to pound behind him. Waiting for a weeping apology. 

And suddenly: “Killua! Wait!”

Killua paused. Turned around. Gon sprinted towards him. Bright hope filtered through his chest. Maybe they could salvage this. Maybe Gon always cared. Killua prepared himself for a heartfelt confession of regrets, wondering—-

“Did they arrest Pitou? Is he dead?”

Right. Neferpitou. The killer. Killua blinked slowly. “Death row. He’ll die eventually.”

“That’s it?” Gon whispered. “Eventually?”

“I’m not a king, Gon. Neferpitou is on death row. That could take a year, or two decades.” He looked down. “And you could have gotten charged with a lot worse for fucking him up that badly.”

You threw your — our — future away without a second thought. Everything Killua had worked for could have been a huge waste, amounted to nothing, 

“Isn’t this enough?”

Is any of it enough? When will it be enough? 

Gon went silent. Killua scoffed, turning back around. 

This time, he kept walking. 

***

They didn’t talk for a month. 

Two months. Three months. 

The summer passed, September neared, and before he knew it, December rolled around. Still no word from Gon. 

But, like usual, Killua could only stay away from Gon for so long. His pride collapsed in seconds as soon as he was knocking on Gon’s dorm room, lip wobbling. 

“Killua.” Gon said, opening the door. “Let’s go somewhere else.” 

Anywhere else. Anywhere was better than this forsaken planet. Someone should really stop its spinning so that Killua could get off. Was that how Gon felt this whole time? 

They walked outside, beyond campus grounds. Alas, Killua spoke,

“Are you going away for winter break?” 

“I’m going home.” Gon said. “I haven’t seen Aunt Mito since August.”

“Oh. Right.” Killua concentrated on the icy pavement as they walked, not sure why he’d really gone to see Gon. Not sure where they were going. Not sure of anything. Once more having no control over his own universe. 

“She missed you.” Gon said. “When I went back, she was surprised you weren’t with me.” 

“That’s nice of her.” Killua replied carefully. “Hey, Gon, I—“

Gon stopped suddenly, and Killua cut himself off to look back.

“What?” Killua asked. “Something wrong?”

“How can you just act like everything’s normal?” Gon burst out. “We haven’t spoken in months and you just wanna go back to normal?”

“I’m not the one who did this.” Killua said coldly. “Or would you like to blame it all on me again?” 

“Killua, I didn’t mean any of that, back then. I was just angry. I was grieving. Kite was—“ Gon choked up. “He was my friend, okay? Of course I didn’t act rationally!”

“You know what, Gon?” Killua stormed over to him. “Maybe Kite was my friend too. Maybe we weren't close like you two, but I still cared when he died. I still cared when you said those things. You don’t get to hug me, or ki—you can’t expect it to get better!” 

“I know, and I’m—“ Gon swallowed. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

But? But what, Gon? It was obvious he was forcing himself to apologize. 

“And?” Killua pressed. 

“And I just want to be your best friend again!” Gon shouted. “I don’t want to keep arguing with you! I hate being mad at you! I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t, so I promise, Killua: I will never, ever hurt you again.” 

Killua’s eyes stung, chest cinching tight. He wanted to scream at Gon through his blurry vision, face growing hot. It was probably another lie. After all, hadn’t Gon done this before? Again, and again, and again. I’ll never hurt you. 

“Why did—“ Killua stifled a sob. “Why did it take you so long to apologize?”

Gon stepped closer, rubbing his head sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually want to talk to me. Or see me again.”

“Every day,” Killua didn’t resist Gon as he hugged him close. It was contradictory, and stupid, and it burned like a blissful fire in his chest. “Every day I waited for a call. Or something. I don’t know. I missed you so much.”

Killua shouldn’t be here. But how could he stay away?

“I know,” Gon whispered, arms squeezing tight. Killua buried his face in Gon’s shoulder, tears trickling out. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever try to leave again.” Killua ordered shakily.

“I won’t, Killua, I won’t.” Gon murmured, and this time it didn’t matter if it was a lie or not. “I promise.”

***

Years fell like rain, or maybe stars. 

Killua was in too deep to stop. If he was wading into his own coffin, he might as well finish hammering down the nails. 

“Killua! Did you get the engineers on board with the rover?” Bisky called, waving a paper threateningly from the door to the dark room. 

“Obviously!” He yelled back. “They were stoked about it! I think they’re worried about the test run, though.”

“Of course they are. Come over here!” 

Killua begrudgingly entered the screen lit room, standing around the others. They huddled around Ikalgo, who was turning twenty-six. 

They sang happy birthday and projected images of candles in the numerous computers. He laughed and went around to discuss with different team members about their successful launch of the rover. It was perfect that it landed on his birthday. 

Killua was getting a bit sick of perfection, though. 

“Killua, come on, don’t be a party pooper.” Ikalgo laughed boisterously, coming to stand beside him. “You’re also almost twenty-three. How cool is that?”

“Yeah. Awesome.” Killua blinked rapidly, looking down. “Happy birthday, sorry. I don’t mean to be so…yeah.”

“You wanna get some air?” 

Killua glanced at his friend. “Yeah. J-just me, though.”

Ikalgo’s pearly smile reflected the blue light. “Totally understandable. Take—“

“—care of myself, I know.” Killua smiled weakly. “See you.” He turned swiftly and left the room, climbing the stairs and aiming for the third floor. He burst out into the roof with a relieved sigh, too-hot summer air sticking to his skin. 

He was also starting to hate the summer. 

As he stood above the city, Killua felt nauseating regret. What the hell was he doing?

“What the hell are you doing?” 

Killua jumped, turning around. “Oh. Don’t scare me like that.”

Gon came up beside him. “Not gonna do anything stupid, right? You looked kinda off all day.”

Killua glanced out over the railing, wind slicking away some of the seasonal warmth. He rubbed his thumbs down the inside of his wrists, where thin surgery scars marked the past. “No. That would just be wasteful.” 

“Glad we agree.” Gon hedged. 

“What are you doing here, Gon?” Killua sighed. 

“Saw you leave. Thought I’d check in, that’s all.”

“No. I mean, what are you doing here, at HXH? Do you even like it here? Isn't astronaut training exhausting?”

“Yeah, but…it’s worth it. I haven’t even really officially started. We’ll really begin in the new year. This is just piloting hours.” 

“I know all that.” Killua muttered. “Just make sure you really want this, okay? It would suck if you changed your mind.”

“What’s this really about?”

“Nothing. Just wondering when you’re gonna get bored.” 

“Of space? Never.” Gon swore. 

“Of me.” 

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I don’t…forget I said that.” Killua forced his lips into a smile. “Let’s go down and enjoy the party. I’m sure Ikalgo misses us.”

“Killua. I’ve wanted this forever. I want to be here with you, too. I still can’t believe we got here. We make a good team.” 

Yeah, right. It was Killua’s internship that got him a ticket to working at HXH, and bringing Gon along. It had taken all of his influence to bury Gon’s past, and everything involving the murder of Kite Scythe in order to convince them to accept him. 

They hadn’t been as close since they graduated college, anyway, renting separate apartments. As soon as Alluka moved in, Killua busied himself with taking care of her and her tuition. It was an easy distraction. An excuse to not pick up the phone. 

“I know. I said it’s fine. Let’s go.” Killua stuffed his hands into his pockets, inhaling deeply and turning around to head back inside. 

“Good,” Gon sounded hesitant. But he didn’t push. He never did, not anymore. 

Something changed that night, rain slicing the sky, blood on their hands, death around the corner. Killua forgave, Gon forgot, and they returned to each other like magnets, whether willing or unwilling. But it was then that it even became a question. 

At least now they both understood, to some level, that they’d always survive off each other. 

Killua shook his head violently and quickly returned to the dark room. “Heyo,” he grinned. 

“Killua!” Ikalgo shouted. “I was just telling the others about my promise to you!”

“And that would be?” Killua asked, amused. Gon stood beside him, silent and ever-present. 

It was a different presence. But Gon nonetheless. 

“Well, you’re out of college!” Ikalgo announced. “You know what that means?”

“Uh. No?”

“I will murder you!” He yelled, diving after Killua. “There is no escape!”

Killua laughed, not bothering to run. He’d welcome it, really. 

***

From then began the Chimera IV project, after the rover which Killua insisted on naming Meruem, if only to get a shallow smile from Gon.  The astronauts, Gon, Meleoron, and a new energetic man named Knuckle, were taken away to a training camp with others. 

Left alone to himself, Killua forced all his attention on work, touring other parts of the building and talking with the engineers often. They were more manageable people, less romantic and more human. 

Plus, Ikalgo was there, so it was fun. He had been a great friend to Killua all throughout their journey at HXH. In the days leading up to the launch, they met up more and more to get their mind off the nerves. 

It was friendly. Not so sharp and burning like spending time with Gon. Killua was reminded of Zushi and Retz, and almost wished he could introduce Ikalgo to them. 

That thought served as a good reminder that Killua wasn’t alone. Even if Gon did eventually break his promise and leave, he’d still have something. 

***

The first few weeks of the mission were rocky, but things did eventually smooth over. They studied more material, while Knuckle and his insane genius in mathematics worked on the trajectory of incoming space trash. 

A majority of the work was maintaining the space station, so Killua had plenty of time to just talk with the astronauts while Meleoron screamed in the background. 

Gon seemed so different, too. So much lighter. They sent plenty of pictures of beautiful sunrises across the surface of the earth, often with grainy astronauts in the corner. But Killua knew the morning glows barely held a candle to Gon. 

Even over conversation, he was…happier. Freer. 

“Killua,” Gon whispered, voice low and crackly. “I love it here. So much. The work’s a real pain, but it’s so worth it. I could—“

“You could what?” Killua smiled. This. This was it. Exactly what he needed, what he wanted, for years. 

“Do you ever pause and just feel…okay, don’t laugh at me, but at peace? I don’t know. Kite used to talk about that, when he was out in nature. I tried to look for that kind of stuff, too, but I guess I never really found it down there.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Killua said softly. 

“Like when it’s dark out and just the tiniest bit of gold comes through and you think, I could die right now.” 

Cruel. 

It was cruel. 

Because Killua did feel it, felt it in dawns and dusks reflected in Gon’s eyes. He felt that stilling in his chest, like his heart had been beating too fast all his life and only now got a break. 

All in the slowing seconds that he watched light. 

Watching Gon. 

And now Gon tasted it, felt it in his eyes, the exact same thing. 

Watching the sky. 

Killua pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and sniffled. “Tell me how beautiful it is every day.” 

“I wouldn’t know where to start, or stop.” Gon gushed. “I could look up and just fall into the stars.”

I look up and could fall into you. “Oh yeah? Reminds me of that movie—“

“It’s really disorienting with the low gravity.” Gon interrupted. “It’s actually really jagged and glassy up here, not at all soft sand. We have to be so careful coming back into the station.” 

“Sounds tedious.” Killua rubbed his face. “What do Meleoron and Knuckle think of it all?”

“Meleoron is just like you; obsessed with work. Always worried about the station. Knuckle, on the other hand, can’t wait to step out all the time. Every time we do repairs, he offers. Oh, and there are space noodles! They taste decent. I think you’d like them.” 

“Dehydrated food doesn’t sound like my cup of tea.” Killua laughed somberly. “But maybe you can steal me some.” 

“Recycling pee is worth it when you see the clouds in the atmosphere. Did you know you can’t actually see Greed Island from up here? It’s a myth.” 

“I figured. It’s so tiny, even if it is in the middle of the ocean.” Killua said. “How does it look at night?”

“Like the whole world is on fire. Bright yellow lights concentrated in certain areas, other parts are dark as burns.” Gon told him, voice a bit too enthused. 

“Hey, don’t go pyro on me now,” Killua joked. 

Gon laughed. “It’s wonderful, Killua, really. Everything and more. I see why my father left to come here. I’d…I'd leave me, too.” 

“World’s healthiest abandonment.” Killua announced sarcastically. “Yet I didn’t leave you, so where’s my thanks?” 

“Thank you, Killua. I love it.”

I love you. “ Great. Just as planned.” Killua’s smile was brighter this time. Genuine. It was okay. He was okay, and okay with this. (He had to be. Dissatisfaction bred regret, and regret was a ticket to a place he wouldn’t come back from.)

“Okay, gotta go! I’ll send the report soon.” 

Killua stood as soon as Gon’s voice disconnected. He quickly packed up to head home, exhausted. Grabbing his furnished bike, Killua hopped on and sped him, focusing his eyes ahead. 

Keep moving. Keep going. All the way, until he reached his tiny apartment and quietly let himself in, careful not to wake Alluka. As soon as he’d unloaded his stuff, he grabbed their last bar of chocolate and shucked open the balcony door, sitting outside in the cool nighttime breezes. Sleep was a long way off. 

Killua didn’t dare let himself look up, lest he sigh out an unrequited sigh and knock years off his own life. 

But the moon was just so beautiful tonight.  

***

You can't force the stars to align when they've already died

***

“It’s almost over! Rocks extracted!” Ikalgo screamed. “Helium-3 confirmed! This is insane! 

Killua smiled. “Great.”

“Hell yeah.” Palm high-fived him. “When do they come back?”

“Tomorrow! I can’t believe it’s been six months already.” 

“Right?” Killua agreed. He had gotten to talk to Gon a decent amount during the mission, and learned about all the wonderful intricacies of space. It didn’t feel as boring anymore. 

“Drinks afterwards?” Ikalgo offered. “We can put it on Bisky. She’s loaded.”

“For real?” Palm gasped. “Sounds awesome! Let’s do it!” 

“Let’s land the astronauts safely, first,” Killua suggested. 

“Such a workaholic.” Palm said. 

“I’m just the worst.” Killua rolled his eyes, though a part of him did jump in fear at the thought of Gon not making it back. And after all this time, he swore he addressed his irrational terrors. 

“It’s the codependency between y’all.” Ikalgo laughed. 

“What? Between me and who?” Killua snapped. 

Palm cackled. “This one is so impossible, it’s ridiculous.”

“I know, right?” Ikalgo wheezed. “He used to be so badass, too. Making me eat octopus and shit.”

“Oh, you think I peaked them?” Killua huffed. “Wait till it’s you on a rocket. See how carefully I monitor the tiles.”

“Aw, man, don’t go there. That was a horror story and a half, all those ceramic incidents.” Ikalgo wept. 

“You’ll see how far I can go,” Killua warned, and soon enough the two of them were back to wasting time and laughing. 

The day bled by quickly. Before they knew it, they were directing the return mission. Killua was sleep deprived and sore from hunching over his computer, but he still had some nerves left as the astronauts came back. 

Everything, thankfully, went smoothly. The parachute landing was perfect and the trio was quickly brought in, secured in wheelchairs and warm jackets. 

Everyone crowded around the supposed celebrities as they were escorted to the built in housing facility, but Killua hung back. He didn’t feel like seeing Gon, not yet, until he figured out why his chest was in knots. Besides, the astronauts would be enclosed for a few days, taking physical therapy and being monitored for any signs of mental distress. Visitors probably wouldn’t be allowed for some time. 

Instead Killua stayed at his desk, mindlessly hanging around while the others celebrated. Even the engineers hauled in, showing off their latest project rovers and images from the last Mars mission. 

Killua tried to be excited. He did. But he didn’t feel worthy of visiting Gon, even after the astronauts were released to go home. It had been two weeks since his return, but he just couldn’t work up the confidence. 

What was he supposed to say? You're welcome? I’m sorry? Stars forbid Killua admit how he’d felt this whole time, though it would be hard to sum up years of conflicting emotions in a few words. There was so much warmth, so much venom, too many spikes and sunsets. 

“Hey, Killua. What’s wrong?” Bisky tapped his shoulder, carrying an empty champagne flute that severely concerned him. 

“Nothing. You should enjoy food with everyone else.” He cleared his throat. The others were partying in the break room. 

“Won’t feel guiltless until my little Hunting explains why he looks like I killed his puppy.” 

“I’m not—“

“Come on, Killua. Prove you’re not repressed,” Bisky teased. 

“Ugh. I don’t know. I just feel weird about Gon being back.”

“Oof. He didn’t propose yet?”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just…I went to space for him, in a way. I came here, spent my life here. His mission is over. Eventually he’s going to go on another one. But it was—it was never for space, it was for Gon. So what, did I just waste my entire life?”

“Would you call it a waste?” Bisky hummed. 

“Uh, yeah!” Killua threw his hands up. “I could be in symphonies right now but instead I’m learning about Bertha's orbital effect! That’s some A-class bullshit.”  

“Oberth.” Bisky corrected, brow raised. She wobbled to the side and hastily set down her cup on his desk. “Have you or have you not been working here for years?” 

“My point exactly.” Killua muttered. 

“But don’t you like it?” Bisky pressed, eyes glassy. She almost looked…sad. “Don’t you think space is beautiful?”

Killua glanced at the ceiling. “I guess I can see the stars right now. But it’s not worth it. It’s never worth it!”

Bisky looked confused, but he didn’t elaborate. Instead, she said, “All anyone seems to talk about is worth. Why run, when you can walk. Why pay, when you can steal. We’re obsessed with getting our change back, but we don’t pause to think why we want it so bad. 

“If it wasn’t worth it, then why’d you do it?”

“Obviously I didn’t know it was going to be a dud…” Killua stopped. What was he saying? Of course he knew it was going to flop. He never had real hope for space. 

Killua left his hopes in the gutters. What right did he have to complain?

“Okay, fine. I see your point. But it’s just frustrating. I wish he’d care a bit more. I don't even know what I really want. For now I just want time.”

“The most precious thing there is, and yet we spend so much of it figuring that out.” Bisky gave a rueful smile. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” He looked up helplessly. Who was he kidding? Killua didn’t see any stars. Just those in Gon’s eyes. 

“If I told you what to do, that wouldn't be what you wanted, would it?” Bisky sounded amused. 

“Maybe what I want is for you to tell me what to do.”

“But then it would be what you wanted me to tell you that you wanted me to tell you.”

Killua blinked. “Uh…what?”

“Exactly! Stop getting stuck on stupid words! Do you want to spend more of your life here, with me and the others, or is there something you’d be more satisfied doing? Nothing is permanent, Killua, so stop treating it like life-or-death.”

“I don’t need parenting, I need—“

“You wanna be head of chemistry here? You wanna join a traveling circus? Do what you feel like!” Bisky exclaimed. “This might be shitty advice, but if we knew exactly what our futures looked like, why the hell would we live them?” 

Killua’s jaw dropped. “Fuck this. I don’t know. I guess I wish I became a professional cellist. But I can’t just do that!”

“Says who? You? I trust you as far as I could throw…no, I could throw you pretty far. Whatever! We’re our own masters, Killua! Get that through your head. I don’t control your future, your friends don’t, your family doesn’t, and Gon sure as hell doesn’t.” 

“So, what, I’ll just spin around meaninglessly with no future? I hate that.” Killua’s voice cracked in desperation. “I hate learning about this, I hate being here, because all it does is kick me in the face with a fucking existential crisis. I don’t want to face the fact that my life means nothing. I just wanted—“ 

Killua grit his teeth. 

“I just wanted to see Gon smile!”

“Forever?” Bisky asked. 

“Yes! No! I don’t know.”

“No one smiles forever, Killua. If you wanted to see him happy, you already have. Several times. Happiness…it’s not a switch. You can’t just flick it on and expect it to remain forever.”

“Then that means my purpose is over. I really should go die in a ditch?”

“Christ, Killua, stop asking me! Rely on yourself for once! Tell yourself what you want to do, and go do it! Stop waiting for some — some sign! Your life is happening right now! It’s not gonna start on a magical Tuesday in a few years! It’s happening now.” 

Killua stilled. “But—“ Bisky was right. Painfully right.

He had been living. He was living. Just…not the way he wanted. Drunk Bisky knew her crap. Killua couldn’t burn another two decades of his own life waiting for some mystical confirmation. 

Maybe he needed to stop being a coward, and confess exactly what he wanted. Killua stepped back, and Bisky looked up at him  

“I…” I’ll be back felt like the wrong thing to say. He didn’t know if it was true. So he said nothing, retreating another step, and then another, and then turning.

“Where are you going?” Bisky called after him as Killua walked towards the exit. “HEY! Killua!”

He twisted his head to look back at her, giving a cheeky salute. “I have to see about a boy!”

Realization dawned, and Bisky laughed. 

***

Killua ran. For every inch of his life, he ran. Down the street, through familiar neighborhoods, to the place he knew by heart. 

He rang the doorbell once, twice, and waited. Gon’s apartment wasn’t that far from his, close enough that he really should have visited. Obviously he hadn’t, because he was startled when Mito opened the door. 

“Mito?” Killua stared. “Wow, I—“ 

“Killua!” Mito moved in and embraced him tightly. Quickly she stepped back, as if remembering he had never really been one for physical affection 

But then Killua stepped in, and hugged her again. “It’s been so long, Mito. It’s nice to see you!”

“You’ve gotten so tall,” Mito gushed, ever the motherly woman, wiping at her tearful eyes. “I’m so glad to see you. Come in, oh, I’ve been so rude.” She moved to the side and closed the door behind him. 

“How have you been?” Killua asked awkwardly. 

Mito laughed. “Good, and I hope the same for you? Ah, let’s not waste time. I know why you’re here.”

“You do?” Killua winced, guilty. “Sorry, I've been busy…ugh, what am I even saying, that’s just disrespectful. I’ve been a bad friend. If you’ll let me, can I talk to your son?” 

Mito smiled. “You’re a kind friend, Killua. Don’t let anyone say otherwise. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for taking care of Gon, through…everything. If anything, I was a bad aunt during the Professor Scythe crisis.”

“It’s not your fault.” Killua rushed in. “He was going through stuff, but I don’t think anyone could have pulled him out.”

“Oh, Killua.” Mito’s eyes watered again. “You did.” 

Killua blinked rapidly. Heat flushed up his neck. “O-oh.”

“Anyways, he’s in the living room. He lent me his room while I’m staying, but I’ll probably leave in a few days,” Mito explained. “He’s still adjusting, even after the physical therapy.” 

“Right, makes sense. Well I’ll just…” Killua gestured vaguely. 

“I was planning on going grocery shopping anyway.” Mito grinned and stepped out, leaving Killua to enter deeper into the apartment. 

He found Gon dozing off on the couch. He was still dressed in plain hospital-issued pants and a loose t-shirt. 

“Hey, Gon.” Killua whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. 

Gon jolted awake, eyes wide. He rubbed his eyes, then deflated upon seeing him. “Killua?” 

“Yeah,”

“Zodiacs, I’m so done with these dreams.” Gon muttered, closing his eyes again. 

“Uh. What?” Killua shook him again. “Gon, can we talk? Please?” 

Gon froze. “Wait. Killua? Is it actually you?” 

“In the flesh,” Killua hesitated. “Why?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Gon’s cheeks darkened. “I didn’t think you’d come. I — I should have cleaned, or cooked or something, I—“ 

Gon pushed himself to his feet, unsteady as he tried to cross the room. Killua followed after. “Gon, it’s fine. You need rest, anyway. Sit down.”

“No, I—“ he winced, grabbing onto the kitchen counter, hand over his head. “I’m sorry. It’s…I’m super happy you came.”

“Of course,” Killua almost felt bad now. Did…did Gon actually want to see him that bad? The whole time? “Just sit down. You’re scaring me.”

“It’s fine. The doctors cleared me.” Gon stood straight up, and Killua almost laughed at how impossibly tiny he was. He probably lorded four inches over Gon, yet he still felt weaker. 

“You’re going to break a leg.” Killua’s arms lurched out to catch Gon’s elbows as he swayed again. 

“Stupid gravity.” He muttered, gently leaning forward into Killua’s chest. Killua slid his arms up and hugged his dear friend. 

“Screw that 9.8,” Killua agreed humorously, pulling Gon’s head into his neck. 

“Hm, this conversation feels familiar.” Gon laughed, then broke off to exhale deeply, ribs caving against Killua’s. 

“Oh. Well. About that.” Killua looked up, Gon’s soft hair filling his face. Suddenly the ceiling fans were extremely interesting. “I think we need to talk.”

“We’re talking now,” Gon pointed out, resting his hands on Killua’s waist. “Right?”

“How do I say this?” Killua mumbled, heart picking up the pace like the cops were on its tail. “I wanted to see you,”

“I wanted to see you, too.” Gon shifted back, watching Killua for once. “I was kind of worried you’d never come.”

“I’m sorry about that. Sorry it took me so long. I just…I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.”

“What? Why wouldn’t I want to see you again?” Gon asked, sounding borderline panicked. “I’d never want that. I know I said—“

“Not because of that. I know you never meant any of that stuff.” (Sort of. Sometimes in nightmares Gon’s voice reappeared pinning the death of Kite  to Killua’s skin.)

“Then…”

“I don’t know.” Killua took a deep breath, trying to remember Bisky’s words. “I just thought I’d fulfilled my purpose. I figured you’d gotten the best, um, use.”

“Use.” Gon echoed. He took another step back, pushing Killua back. When Killua allowed himself to look at Gon, he realized there were tears in his eyes. 

“Whoa, why are you crying? Agh, I’m so sorry. I come into your house and then I just make you sad.” Killua fumbled. “It’s gonna be okay, Gon, I swear. I just—“

“Stop trying to comfort me!” Gon shouted, hastily scrubbing his eyes. “I can’t believe you thought I was using you! I made you feel like that!” He sounded heartbroken. 

“Well — no — I’m not trying to accuse you or anything, I swear—“ Killua yelped, flustered. 

“I made you feel like that.” Gon repeated like a broken record. “How could I…I can’t…how long did you feel like that? How long have I been hurting you?”

“You’re not hurting me.” Killua snapped, frustrated. “I’m just explaining why I thought it’d be better if I didn’t show my face, is all. You went to space, didn’t you? That’s what you wanted! You’re happy now, right?” His voice cracked pathetically. “Right?” 

Nobody could be happy forever. Then it wouldn’t be worth much. But who gave a damn about worth when Gon was crying, crying again, and Killua could do nothing but stand there helplessly? 

“If it was making you feel that bad,” Gon hiccuped. “Then no! I don’t want to be happy if you’re gonna act like you’re nothing m-more than…than…” 

“So you're okay if I stick around, right?” Killua pressed, shoulders slumping in relief when Gon nodded. 

“Only if you want to. Killua, I wasn’t trying to use you.” Gon seemed particularly stuck on that one word. 

“Right, I should have phrased it differently.” Killua mumbled, looking to the side. “Look Gon, I didn’t come here for you to apologize.”

Gon stopped shaking, and he gazed at Killua, eyes full of moonlight. “But…”

He’s looking at me the way he looks at the sky. And I’m going to break it all. 

“I wanted to say that I hate it here.” Killua whispered. “I hate working at HXH. I love everyone there, and I love…yeah. But I might die tomorrow, and I refuse to die without at least trying to follow my stupid, shallow dreams.” He took another deep breath. 

“Music.” Gon said quietly. 

“And this might surprise you, but I want to go into — wait, what did you just say?”

“You want to play, right? Cello? I know you were skilled.” Gon smiled warmly. “You never wanted to do any of this.”

“I…guess. But Bisky taught me that…well, it was kind of unclear, but I think she was telling me to do whatever the hell I want? Like I was standing in my own way. And I can’t take back everything, and if it makes you shine like that again, wow, I’d do it a million times over. But—“

“Shine?” Gon laughed. “What does that mean?” 

Killua’s cheeks burned. “Shut up. My point is, better late than never. So I want to quit working at HXH and find an orchestra to join.” 

“I know,” Gon started. “I had a feeling you’d do this. I think some part of me always knew. I knew you hated every second of what we were doing,” 

“You did?” Killua felt the floor fall out from beneath his feet. “But I never—“

“I used to listen to you play in the music wing when you thought no one was there,” he admitted sheepishly. “And I knew that you’d be so much happier if you just…left me.”

Gon sighed. 

“I just never admitted it, because I didn’t want you to disappear.” 

It was hilariously similar to what Killua told himself for years. “So you’re okay if I leave? If I do what, uh, if I do what I want to do?”

“Yes, Killua. You shouldn’t — you don’t even need my permission, so I don’t know why you’re asking me. Anyways, I’ll help you. Anything you need from me. I’ll help you. If it makes you happier, if it makes you like your life more, then do it. It’s not hurting anyone, right?”

Killua flinched. “It won’t. It won’t hurt you. Right?” 

“I don’t think anything could hurt more than not seeing you,” Gon confessed. “If you’ll let me see you, then that’s enough.” 

Enough. It was enough. Something was finally enough for Gon. 

And it was Killua, of all things. 

“One more thing.” Killua added, heart jumping into his throat. 

Gon watched him patiently. 

 Killua cleared his throat. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t need a response, or anything. But seeing you go into space made me realize it, and life is stupid, and if you get hit by a car I’m going to sorely regret this.”

“The only person getting hit by things is you, and it’s a bike,” Gon reassured him. 

Killua pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting back a smile. “Stupid. Um. Okay. Here goes nothing.” 

He squinted at Gon, closed his eyes, stared, looked away, tried a million things while his mouth opened and closed like a fish.  

“Just get it out of your system.” Gon encouraged. 

Killua winced. 

“Say it on three?” Gon tried. “Here, I’ll help. Three. Two. One.”

Still, the words lodged into Killua’s throat. 

“Maybe if I turn around it will be easier?”

“Just shut up,” Killua ordered. He bit his lip, sweat trickling down his temple. Remember everything you just said? You could go at any moment! Stop being a coward. 

“I…” He croaked. Cough. Repeated, firmer, “I…”

Gon trained his eyes on Killua, silent. “You’re killing me!” He whined suddenly. “I can’t take the suspense!”

“Okay, Fine! I love you!” Killua shouted. 

“I love you too?!” Gon shouted back. 

Killua paused. Stared. “What.” 

“Don’t look at me weird,” Gon wrinkled his nose. “You were yelling, so I just assumed I should yell, too.”

“But you…no, you don’t get it, Gon. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Gon blinked. “Isn’t it obvious?” 

“Isn’t it—?” Killua gaped. “No, Gon, I love you like love.” 

“I know. Do I need to shout again? That seems toxic.” 

“You don’t love me the same way,” Killua shook his head. “You’re a sweet best friend, but that’s it.”

“What way do you want me to love you?” Gon asked. 

“Like — like—“ Killua sputtered. He ran a hand through his hair, electricity racing under his skin in a violent crescendo. Killua stepped in, thunder roaring in his blood, and kissed him. Hastily, he pulled back, sure Gon’s face would be twisted in disgust. “Like that.” 

“Okay,” Gon shrugged. He braced one hand against the counter, leaned in, and kissed Killua. “Done.” 

“But…” Killua whispered, skin burning. “You don’t mean it.”

“Of course I do. You’re my best friend.”

“I want—“

“You can call it whatever you want,” Gon added. “But words and labels are stupid. Can’t I just love you? I can kiss you more, if you want, but I thought the point was that I don't need to. It just goes without saying.”

Killua was this close to combusting. “It goes without saying.”

“Yeah,” Gon grinned. “I thought we established that years ago.” 

“You’re so stupid.” Killua insulted, half hearted at best. 

“And you’re so mean. So what?” Gon stood on his toes and smacked his lips loudly on Killua’s forehead. “No one is perfect.”

“You could have said this ages ago, you know that, right?” Killua groaned. “I tortured myself for years because I thought the best smile I’d get from you is if I dropped everything for you.”

“Well, now I can drop everything for you,” Gon shrugged. “We’ll take turns! I’ll help you with cello, and in a few years, I’ll join the next Chimera mission. We can both be happy, Killua. It’s not like it’s a marker you pass around.” 

Killua’s lips broke out into a crooked smile. “You mean that?”

Gon stumbled forward, catching himself against Killua. “Yes. Always. I want to make you happy, too.”

“But we’ll be so far apart. If you’re at HXH, and I’m—“

“It doesn’t matter how far you are, Killua.” Gon promised. “I’ll still be there with you.”

“That’s contradictory. You’re an idiot.”

“Fine, I’m an idiot!” Gon proclaimed. “I’ll still be the idiot who loves you.” 

“Okay, okay!” Killua laughed. “We’ll do it. We can figure it out.” Gon laughed, too. He stared into Killua’s eyes, far beyond. 

“You know,” Gon said. “I think I can see the stars right now.” 

***

It’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart.