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Killua was slowly realizing he was no good at being a human.
This, of course, was something that had always existed somewhere in the back of his mind- the knowledge that however the rest of the world was, he was different. Wrong. He did not flinch at the same sounds. He did not cry out in pain. He read hidden intentions far too well for a boy his age. He was overly suspicious, especially in large crowds. Like now.
“Hey! Sorry for the holdup! The guy selling these things actually used to go fishing with me when I was really little, so he wanted to catch up a bit!” Gon explains as he thrusts a fried frog on a stick to Killua, loud as ever over the din of the festival. Breath returns to him at the return of his friend, only to be taken from him too quickly as Gon grabs his arm. “C’mon! There’s a dart game I just know you’re gonna love!” Truthfully, one dart-related near-death experience later, Killua wasn’t sure if he would love it, but this is the first time he and Gon have been together since…
Since everything.
And Killua will be damned if he messes this up. Alluka absolutely wanted to go to the festival too, but had a too-knowing look in her eye when she insisted on staying back at Gon’s house to spend time with his Aunt Mito. They needed this, the two of them, to be together like they used to, to remember why they’d done the stupid shit they’d done for each other. To get everything out in the air. At least they might be able to, if Gon would sit still for a second. Some things never change.
Killua doesn’t really listen as Gon explains the rules of the game, he just watches. Watches how he moves his hands and the curve of his jaw and how he shifts from foot to foot.
“Ok?” Gon finishes, eyes bright in the lamplight of the festival as he holds out ten darts.
“Ok.” Killua says, taking the darts from his hand. He tries to ignore the spark that accompanies the touch.
Once, he might have let his hand linger. He might have held hands with Gon even. Now, his hand feels perpetually too far, like a valley extends between them, no matter how close. It doesn’t matter. His feelings don’t matter. He’s the one who failed Gon, who couldn’t save him. And now he’s…
Gon cheers as he pops the final balloon, slinging his arm around Killua’s shoulders. “ALRIGHT!” He shouts, hugging him close and laughing. “You should’ve been here last summer! They only give ya one try and I couldn’t get them all popped! I was soooooo bummed!” He beams and Killua wishes he could suppress the flush rising across his face. “So which one are ya gonna get?” Killua surveys the overly large stuffed animals. He picks the frog, already embarrassed at the choice. “Huh, I thought you’d pick the cat.” Gon says as they walk through booths and lights. Killua tries to fight the slight panic raising the hairs on his neck, that it’s simultaneously too dark and too bright to sense any danger, anyone hidden in the shadows. Other people don’t think about these things. He will not think of these things. He shrugs in response to Gon’s observation.
“Eh, I’m kinda into frogs lately…” He says, shifting it where it lay over his shoulders.
“Oh yeah?” Gon cocks his head. “How come?”
Killua can’t bring himself to say that they’ve always reminded him of Gon. The green, their wide eyes and puffed cheeks (though now, years later, Gon looks less soft around the face). He knocks into Gon with his shoulder instead, and comes up with an excuse.
“Because we didn’t have to fight any frog chimera ants.” He jokes. “It’s like, the one animal that hasn’t been ruined for me.” Gon blinks at him, and he already knows he’s made a mistake.
“We did though.” He says a bit quietly, his smile dropping. “Remember? We were with Kite, and-” Killua hates himself for bringing it up. Leave it to him to fuck up like this. He opens his mouth to- to what, apologize? Change the subject? Dig himself deeper?- but Gon takes a breath, face easing into something a bit melancholy, nostalgic even, as he continues “-and he pulled out that giant scythe, remember? And took that frog guy and all of his buddies out in one swoop!” He smiles, and there’s something different about it. Something pensive and mature that Killua couldn’t have imagined on Gon’s face years ago, but seems at home on his face now. He can’t think of anything to say, except that, yes, he does remember now. Gon’s smile stretches back to the familiar brightness Killua always expects from him again as he says “Guess I ruined frogs for you then, huh?” Killua punches him lightly in the shoulder.
“I’ll survive somehow.”
The two continue their walking among the festival, Gon stopping or being stopped by someone every ten feet, chatting eagerly with neighbors and classmates as though he hasn’t seen them in years. Each time he introduces them to Killua, and each time the feeling of never being quite human enough pulses like a toothache. Was this what it was like to be everyone else? To have endless people caring about you? To walk through streets and recognize faces with joy? He had never done such a thing, and could not imagine himself doing so. But watching Gon do such things, being brought into the world of those more human than him by being by his side, it was still good. It was real.
The pounding of a drum interrupts whatever conversation Gon had been having with an old teacher of his. He whips his head in the direction of the sound and grabs Killua’s arm enthusiastically.
“Sorry Mister Pele, Killua and I gotta go! See ya later!” He says in one breath as he pulls Killua along. They’re halfway through the festival when it occurs to Killua that Gon has a very specific location in mind- one that’s very clearly not even in the festival, as lights blur past and voices become one indiscernible hum.
“Gon, where the hell are we going?!” Killua grouses. Gon had been talking about the fireworks all afternoon, and at this rate they were going to miss them as they ran to wherever Gon felt they needed to be.
“Trust me!” Gon tosses over his shoulder without pause. “This spot is the BEST for the fireworks!”
Nearly ten minutes of running, a close call with some birds, and muscling their way through some bushes later, Killua has to admit, it is the best spot to view the fireworks. They have a full view of the entire festival below, like one great shining bauble among the dark of night. The first firework shoots up, dazzling and silver, fizzing into nothingness after a few moments. They watch in silent awe as the next flares up into the sky, bright green and gold. Killua feels his hand brush Gon’s, yet the valley between them remains. Neither speak until the fourth or fifth goes up. It is Gon who breaks the silence.
“I never apologized. For any of it.” Truthfully, Killua doesn’t want to talk about it. They could go back to how things were before, five years ago, and not acknowledge any of it happened. Things could be how they were before.
“I’m sorry.” Gon’s voice sounds strained. “I shouldn’t’ve… I should’ve been a better friend.”
“Gon-” Killua can’t manage to meet his eyes, instead watches the blue and purple shimmer above.
“I should’ve . You were hurting too and I wasn’t there. You were hurting the whole time. And I kept pushing. I made you-”
“You didn’t make me do anything.” Killua interrupts with a scrunch of his face. He wants to face Gon, but he feels too close now.
“That’s not true.” Gon pushes on. Killua can feel his eyes on him. “Because I knew you would do anything if I asked you, because you just wanted to be a good friend. Because you cared about me.”
Cared? Past tense. Killua isn’t thinking when he turns to look at Gon as he nearly shouts, “Cared?! I still care, asshole! I care about you more than almost anyone else on the fucking planet! I did all that shit because I wanted to!”
He really shouldn’t have turned to face him. Everything feels too real now, too close, with Gon’s eyes shining with a sheen of frustrated tears, the sound of both their breathing too loud.
“But if I asked you to stop, you would’ve, right? You would’ve called it quits before you messed up your hands in dodgeball. You wouldn’t have felt responsible for what I did in the NGL. But I didn’t. I didn’t even think of how it would affect you and-” Gon pauses, scrubs at his face and takes a breath. “And I can’t go back and change it. But I’m sorry. Killua, I’m sorry and I…” Gon meets his eyes, looking apprehensive for once. Purple and green and gold pop one after the other above. “I care about you too much to ever let something like that happen again. I swear it won’t.”
For all of Killua’s anger, none of it had ever been directed at Gon. Maybe it should’ve been, in retrospect. Maybe it’s another way he fails at being a human. He’s not sure he can change it, though. He realizes for the first time how much taller he’s grown than Gon, who’s only slightly above his shoulder, but looks smaller now, eyes trained on the ground and hands shoved into his pockets. With this perspective, the valley between seems so much smaller.
Killua bends down, stopping only when his forehead runs into Gon’s.
“Idiot. Apology accepted or whatever. I can’t even be mad at you if I tried.” Gon laughs wetly, tears in his voice.
“Killua that’s… hah… that’s not a good thing.” Gon says, resting his head on Killua’s shoulder.
“Yeah well, you’re gonna hate this but, I’d do it all again, too.” Gon laughs again, tears wetting Killua’s shoulder.
“Dude, that’s! That’s fucked up!” He fully laughs now, wrapping his arms around Killua, clutching at his back. “Promise me you won’t do any dumb shit for me ever again. I’ll never ask you to so just…” They’re so close Killua can feel his sigh. “Just take care of yourself, promise?”
A flurry of color pops in the sky above in what must be the finale of the fireworks, showering a rainbow of shine down below to a great bellow of cheers. Killua runs a hand through Gon’s hair, presses a kiss he’s not sure if he wants him to notice there.
“I promise.”