Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Killua’s body feels abnormally heavy.

His kidnappers forced some kind of shackles around his wrists, weighed down by either Nen or something unusually heavy, like Killua’s yoyos. He’d guess it’s Nen—not just because he’s pretty sure he could handle any heavy weight without problem, but also because the trio have a combination of abilities that he hadn’t quite figured out.

More specifically, they seem to be good at restraining, all the way down to his wrists, which can only move so far apart. When they grabbed him, he’d been forced into Zetsu, but it’s gone now; his aura is back.

Killua starts by flexing his fingers. Good. He can still move, which hopefully means he can break the chains.

The biggest problem right now is that they separated him and Gon somewhere in the hallway. The last time he’d seen him was while Gon was struggling against them—without the inherent naked feeling of being without aura, since Gon has no Nen either way.

A small tendril of fear curls inside Killua’s lungs. Gon may be used to not having Nen, but being defenseless and kidnapped is still too much.

They’d left him alone in this room, which means they’re probably with Gon—that’s the only explanation. This might be Killua’s only chance to look around without being observed closely.

First Killua stretches as far as he can go, though he can’t see anything around him in the cold, dark room. It’s likely a basement of some kind based on the trip here—he’ll have to get back to ground level if he wants to break through the walls to escape. And that’s only after he saves Gon.

The shackles around his wrists aren’t as thick as his family’s, and they’re connected to the chair they put him down on, rather than the ceiling. He moves his foot back to inspect the chair—bolted down, of course. Just his luck. He can try to get up, but he’s chained too close to the chair, and he can only get so far before he’s jolted back into place.

He tries to rip the shackles off. They clink as they’re pulled taut, but don’t break like normal metal would.

So: Nen shackles, an empty room with one door and no windows, and a chair that may or may not be made with the same Nen-infused metal. He’s facing the door with nothing but his body to use, except if he could use the chair somehow…

The door opening cuts off his thoughts.

One of the kidnappers stands there, closing the door firmly behind himself. He has dark hair, fluffy bangs falling over his face but not covering his sharp eyes. Killua feels watched, and not just because it would be stupid of them to put Killua and Gon in this situation without having someone keep an eye on them.

The man walks closer to him, hands casually in his coat pockets. Killua is almost tempted to try to attack him as soon as he gets near Killua’s reach, but it’s too big of a risk and he knows it.

“What do you want?” Killua glowers.

“I was just looking,” he says, eyes flickering to look at Killua in detail. “You have good control of your Nen. I wonder if my ability would even work on you. Want to find out?” His smile stretches slowly as he straightens to his full height. He begins to pull his hands out of his pockets.

Killua presses his tongue against the inside of his teeth, bracing for something; he doesn’t know enough about this guy. “What’s your ability?”

“I’m asking the questions,” he says. He has a knife in one hand, a thin one with a skull engraved in the handle. That’s normal. Killua can work with that, but it makes his hair raise to not know the ability that comes with it. “First, what’s your ability?”

Killua doesn’t say anything.

“How boring,” the man says. “You know, I’m pretty good at making people talk. That’s what I’m here for—that, and torture.”

“Try me,” Killua says. He’s dealt with more than enough torture from his family, but he can handle it. Even if his bones get broken or he gets stabbed with that knife, Killua can still fight.

He’ll stop this before it gets to the point where he talks—a point so far away Killua can’t imagine getting there.

The man lifts his knife, holding it over Killua’s arm. Killua can handle it. He can. He just needs to protect Gon, whatever it takes. That’s what Killua has wanted since as long as he’s been best friends with him.

Killua doesn’t know what to do to stop them from hurting Gon more. Blood is rushing through his veins, pushing him to move—but he can’t. As soon as the man holds down his arm, Killua can’t pull away, heavy because of the chains and energized by fear.

The knife digs into his skin—burning through the pain, cutting not too deep, but enough that rivulets of blood drip down his arm, dripping onto the floor before Killua rips his arm away and the man lets go. Killua keeps his face neutral the whole way through.

He focuses his eyes instead on the knife, the spark of aura around it, flowing into his bloodstream before disappearing—like it was never there at all.

“Where did you get your information from?” The man reaches for Killua’s face—something that reminds Killua of Illumi enough that his heart jumps in his chest, stopping and starting in an instant.

His head hits the back of the chair. “Hunter informants,” falls out of his mouth.

As soon as Killua hears himself, his body goes cold. He hadn’t meant to say that. His brain had come up with the words, and then they’d left him, into the cold, stale air.

So that’s the effect of the dark haired man’s Nen—something that has to enter the body first, something that can make them tell him whatever truth he wants to ask about—something that Killua’s mouth dutifully explains to the man himself, to Killua’s horror and embarrassment.

“Yes,” the man says with a smile—smarmy bastard. “Exactly right. And you’re lucky, because you have defenses—your friend, on the other hand…”

Killua feels sick.

“Don’t hurt him,” Killua says. He tries to keep himself calm, keep his thoughts in check, still his tongue. He imagines his own aura pulsing around the Nen that’s entered Killua’s bloodstream, and imagines forcing it out. His chest aches—Gon is in pain. Gon is suffering by their hands. His breath hisses through his teeth. “If you hurt him, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.”

The threat is better than the fear that coils tightly in his chest.

“How about this,” the man with the fluffy hair says, “if you answer my questions, I’ll tell you what happened to him, and even make sure he stops suffering. And if you don’t, I’ll let my friend know what to do with him.”

Killua wants to scream. He wants to kill the kidnappers, wants to rip himself away from the chair and destroy them. It’s only the threat on Gon’s life—the idea that they’d find some way to hurt Gon more in retaliation that stops him. Killua can handle it. Gon can’t.

“I want to kill you,” Killua says lowly. “But I’ll tell you. It’s not like I have a choice, right? Your ability is making me tell the truth either way.”

“Right,” the man says.

“So you’ll tell me what happened to him?”

“I promise. But first, you have to tell me everything you know about the Rose Aura Book.”

Killua tenses the muscles in his arm, subtly testing the give of the chains again. He feels too heavy to move them properly—he tries to direct his thoughts back to the man’s words, not the situation. “The chain is too short for me to move properly,” he says, and nearly winces at himself.

The man ignores it. He leans closer. “The Rose Aura Book. What do you know about it?”

Killua sucks in a breath. “We were looking for it. It’s supposed to have a lot of obscure info about Nen in it, and we needed to find out what was written in it. But we don’t know where it is. We just—we need to know if it can help restore Nen that was lost.”

He bites his tongue. It’s too much. He doesn’t want their kidnappers to know why they were looking for the book—they need it for Gon. Gon has been without Nen because of what happened with the chimera ants for too long, and Killua wanted to help him. None of this is what the man asked for, and he finds that he doesn’t automatically get forced to say it.

Direct questions make him say specific things, then. It leaves a sour taste in Killua’s mouth.

The man stares into his eyes. “You must have some idea of where it is, or else you wouldn’t be looking for it. You had Hunter informants, so what did they say?”

“They said it was in this city and aura tracking said it was still likely within the area. We don’t know where it is, I’m not lying,” Killua hisses. “Our last lead in the city was a dead end! We were just told the general area. If you’re looking for it, you probably know it’s here too, so just let us go and we won’t—”

“Hunters or not, we don’t need to rely on letting you go in this bargain.”

Killua’s chest is burning. “If you hadn’t decided to kidnap us we might’ve given it to you after we were done with it.”

“It wasn’t my choice.” He tilts his head away from Killua lazily. “I’m not the leader.”

Killua tests the chains again. He really wants to attack this guy now—and somehow, he finds that he doesn’t inform the man that he’s testing the chains. His head feels a bit clearer, the difference subtle but palpable when he reaches for it. Something twists in his chest at the thought of this ability, this manipulation that their kidnappers are so clearly fine with using.

“What about my friend? What did you do to him?” He’s desperate to escape, but first he has to know.

The man raises his eyebrows with a smile as he looks back to Killua. “Well you see, my ability allows me to force someone to tell the truth. How strong it is depends on how much of a defense they have, among other factors—in the case of someone without Nen, that would be none. It’ll last for a long time on him, while someone like you could get rid of it in an hour.” Killua almost chokes out a laugh—it’s been way less than an hour, and he’s at least mostly freed from it.

Of course, this means that Gon, without his Nen, will be stuck with this ability for who knows how long—it doesn’t seem like the Nen user himself will be willing to share the length of time with him.

“The only thing is,” the man continues, “I have to cut them before they’re affected. I already did that to him, so he’s hurting already—and who knows what the others did to him if he struggled.” His smile widens. “I’d apologize, but you don’t want to hear it, do you?”

Killua glares at him coldly. “Of course not.”

The man’s face shifts into a less frightful smile, something that tells Killua he’s going to keep talking—but Killua is running out of patience.

With all his strength, he moves, pulling the chains taut again. Killua tenses his muscles and pulls harder until he hears the strain of the metal on the chair underneath him. There’s a sharp crack as the metal breaks, and then Killua is free with one arm, swinging the piece of the chair’s armrest still connected to the short chain at the man’s face.

The man is knocked back by the impact, and Killua gets to work pulling the other arm free. This arm is the one that’s bleeding, weaker as he pulls free. The man is up the next second, and Killua still isn’t freed.

It’s all Killua can do to brace himself for the man’s attack, but there’s a sharp pain in his stomach as the man lunges. Killua grits his teeth as the man’s knife punctures his skin—the next instant, he kicks the man off him, and the knife is pulled from the bottom of Killua’s ribcage.

His blood glistens, dark on the needle-like tip.

Killua rips his other arm free. The heavy Nen shackles are a burden he should get rid of as fast as he can, but now isn’t the time to worry about it. He tries to think of them as his yoyos, though they don’t have enough reach to use the same way—but the weight is similar enough that he can work with it.

Blood keeps dripping on the ground. Killua forms his hands into claws and launches himself forward, knocking both himself and the man to the ground, grunting as he does. Everything feels heavier with the shackles on.

Killua knocks the knife from the dark haired man’s hand, barely glancing at it as it clatters to the ground—he kicks it out of reach in one smooth motion, keeping the man pinned.

The man’s eyes are wild, dark and watching. He’s still moving under Killua’s grasp, but he’s smiling—Killua feels a chill roll down his spine. “They’re going to be here before you can kill me. And even if you do—”

“Shut up,” Killua hisses, putting his claws to the man’s throat. He knows that the man knows Nen—he can probably protect himself from this, if he’s so confident. Even so—Killua can’t stop thinking about Gon, forced to carry that Nen, forced to tell the truth this man so clearly wants to steal from him. Torture tactics mixed with Nen leave a sour taste on Killua’s tongue.

He would kill the man now, but—

“If you kill me,” the dark haired man continues, “I’m just saying, my Nen already affected your friend. My feelings about the book are stronger than you think.”

Nen after death. It’s a worst case scenario.

“Stop talking,” Killua says. His stomach is twisted in knots, and not just because of the background throbbing pain still surrounding the wound the man gave him. “Or I really will kill you.”

The man still smiles. A bead of blood rolls down his neck, and Killua is tempted to push his claws in further—but he doesn’t. Gon is at stake, and Killua would abandon any revenge in an instant if it meant Gon would be safe.

Killua jumps off of him towards the wall and grabs the discarded knife. He pockets it and runs out the heavy door, all before the man can stand. Instead, the man with the dark hair sits up and wipes the blood off his neck with his thumb, his relaxed aura just putting Killua more and more on edge.

He manages to turn the corner right before there’s a slamming sound from the door he just came out of—and two voices, not just the one he’d knocked down. Killua is lucky he makes quick decisions and can ignore pain clouding his judgement.

Another thing to thank torture training for. Something sour is stuck in his throat, a shiver underneath his skin.

He runs, footsteps silent on the unfinished floors. He tries to think about where they could be on his internal map of the building, hoping to circle around to a staircase where he can get back to ground level. First, though—Gon. He doesn’t know where he got taken, but he knows Gon must be in pain.

Pressing his back against a wall and checking to make sure he’s not being followed, he realizes how audible his breathing is. Frowning, he presses his hand down on the wound on his abdomen, and it comes away sticky.

He has to keep moving, but the blood is more than he wanted—the knife was thin, but that doesn’t mean he’s not injured. His black shirt is hiding most of the blood, and yet…

It reminds him of fighting the ants, in a funny way. When he’d passed out on the ground of an underground cave, unable to help Gon, even knowing his best friend was walking right into a suicide mission while Killua died. Of course, this wound isn’t as bad as that—but the thought tastes like copper.

It makes him smile bitterly to himself, a wild shot of adrenaline into his system. Just like old times, then.

He rubs the skin underneath the shackles still weighing down his arms, his entire body. He’ll need to get rid of them, even without the key. As quickly and quietly as he can, he dislocates his joints and forms his hand into the twisted shape that will allow him to slip free. It’s been a while since he’s done this, but easily enough, the Nen-infused shackles fall to the ground alongside the chains and the bit of chair he dragged out with him.

Good riddance.

He leaves them behind. The sooner he can get himself and Gon out of here, the better.

He doesn’t know where Gon is, but the basement doesn’t seem to be very large—he finds the stairs first, and then follows the hallway in the direction he remembers them taking Gon. There’s a few doors, and he slowly opens one; it’s a storage closet, and somehow, conveniently, his and Gon’s stuff is there, so he pockets what he can.

He goes to the next door, peeking in to find it empty, the bolted down chair in the middle as still and cold as a ghost town.

The next room is different, and Killua’s stomach turns over.

Gon is sitting in the middle, in a chair like the one Killua was chained to. His eyes widen when he sees him, Killua’s name tearing out of Gon’s throat.

Relief that Gon is alive is beating strongly in Killua’s veins, despite the wounds Killua can clearly see even without the time to examine them—despite how Gon shouldn’t have to handle this at all.

More pressing, though—the woman in the middle of the room turns to look at Killua, fast on her feet.

But not as fast as lightning.

She’s raising her hand towards him, but he’s faster, using the heel of his palm to hit her chin and knock her backward, and striking with lightning as he does. She falls backward; Killua watches her crumple on the ground. She probably won’t be out for very long, so Killua is forced to keep his eyes off Gon as he crouches to search the pockets of her large, heavy jacket.

Sparks of anxiety are setting off within his ribcage. He grasps the keys he steals off her tightly, turning back to Gon and immediately moving to find the one that will set Gon free.

“You’re safe,” Gon breathes.

“Yeah,” Killua says, and finally meets Gon’s eyes—he’s looking straight back at Killua when he does, and for a moment that feels like eternity they’re suspended there. Killua looks for any sign of disorientation, a daze that could mean drugging or poison. He isn’t in any position to look closely, though. “What happened after we got separated?”

Gon laughs. “You’re asking that so fast,” he says. “I hit one of them in the eyes. And when I got stuck in here I kept kicking until all three came back.”

Killua’s heart sinks. He goes back to unlocking the shackles over Gon’s wrists, eyes catching on the holes slashing through the sleeves and the wounds they uncover. It hurts him to think about the bruises, the effects of these chains on Gon—who has no Nen to protect himself, not like Killua does.

One of Gon’s fingers is swollen, badly. Killua doesn’t want to think about what else they did.

Gon continues. “And—and that one with the dark hair, he started to ask me all kinds of questions. I didn’t want to answer, because of you.”

Killua finally, finally finds the right key. “Wait, me?”

“I knew you would be okay,” Gon says earnestly, so bright it could burn. He rotates his wrists when he’s freed, standing up quickly, wobbling in place. Killua’s heart jumps with worry. “But I still didn’t want to risk it, since they said a lot of things about Nen-repellant metal and their abilities being able to break through any Nen ability.”

Killua reaches to hold him steady while he finishes rambling. “Yeah, I get it,” he says. “They used you to threaten me, too. But I’m fine.” The inability to not say his thoughts has faded, after all. “We need to get out of here.”

“You shouldn’t have to hold me up,” Gon says.

Killua wants to call that a lie, but if their kidnapper is to be believed, then Gon is being forced to say his thoughts right now. Gon really, genuinely wants Killua to let go.

His heart is burning. Who knew the truth could hurt like this, bittersweet even though he knows how independent and capable Gon is? How can he even know if Gon has been affected by that, anyway? Why should he believe it? Gon is honest all the time, after all.

But if he is, when will it wear off?

Killua pushes past Gon’s complaint and puts his arm as gently as he can around Gon’s waist to hold him up.

“It hurts,” Gon hisses softly.  But still—he puts his arm around Killua’s shoulders, his fingers grasping Killua’s skin. Real. Solidly in place, even as his body tenses. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

Killua frowns and begins to walk them out, keeping an eye out for the kidnappers he didn’t knock out. It would be easier if he just carried Gon out, so he braces himself for how close they’ll be. “I’m going to pick you up. I don’t have enough charge to go as fast as I’d like, but if you’re on my back it’ll still help us get out fast.”

Gon nods. “I trust you. It’ll still hurt, but—I’m okay with that.”

Killua tries not to reel at the honesty. Not that Gon isn’t sort of like this all the time, but the sheer amount of trust he has to give Killua his injured body, even if it hurts to be held, even though he didn’t want Killua to hold him up in the first place.

Killua focuses on the way Gon presses into his back. His feelings on Gon trusting him are still too tangled to think about.

This, too, feels like a remnant of the past. The last time Killua carried Gon piggyback—well, he doesn’t exactly like to think about it, because it was during the fight with the chimera ants. But this time is better—this time he can feel Gon breathing against his back, arms under Killua’s chin.

While Killua is looking out for their kidnappers as they make their way to the stairs, Gon talks.

“I can walk, you know. I just—I don’t know what they did to me, but I felt dizzy in there. It’s gone now, so you don’t have to be worried! You’re too worried already, Killua.” A breath hisses between his teeth. “They used an ability on me, I don’t want to say this but I’m being forced to. I don’t know when it’ll stop.”

Killua can’t help worrying about this, though. No matter what Gon thinks. “Their truth telling Nen?”

Gon lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Killua’s stomach twists with anxiety, the urge to fight their kidnappers again curling tightly, red hot. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” He clenches his jaw, then forces himself to relax. “He told me about it too, but it might be good to share information as soon as we can.”

“I don’t want to,” Gon mumbles. “I want to sleep.”

Killua snorts. “Sure, you can sleep. You deserve it.” A warm fondness spreads in his chest, loosening the anxiety. Killua is lucky his own Nen protected him before—it would be a disaster if he was the one who couldn’t lie. He’s not built for this, but Gon—his honest, bright friend—will be okay. He’s too honest as it is, after all.

They emerge from the stairs and into the sunlight streaming through the windows. Killua kicks through the door rather than trying to figure out if it’s locked, grinning the whole time, and zooming out before their kidnappers catch up.

As Killua runs, he can feel how badly he’s jolting Gon on his back. He feels guilty, but they really don’t have time to deal with that kind of thing.

That, and Gon is apparently not even thinking about it. “I’m scared,” Gon says instead. “I don’t want to say all my thoughts.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Killua reassures him. “We can wait it out easily. Besides,” he gives Gon a grin from the side as best he can, hoping that he looks confident, if Gon can even see it, “I already know how you think. If you think you’re going to scare me away, you’re wrong.”

Gon tilts his head, pressing the sides of their heads together. The action makes something swell in Killua’s chest. “I don’t think I’ll scare you away,” he says. “You know me better than anyone.”

That cements it in Killua’s mind as he carries Gon as gently as he can back to safety: it’s going to be okay. Gon—beautiful, confident Gon—he can’t be hurt by an ability when he’s already putting all his impulses out in the open. Sure, it might get awkward if Gon says something that makes Killua’s pulse race, but that’s nothing. He’s been hiding his feelings for so long it comes more naturally than breathing, despite the embarrassment that follows whenever Gon is too bold.

The swell of affection doesn’t die down, even as they stop running.

Killua and Gon have only recently reunited, but this whole time they’ve been together, they've been looking for a way to get Gon’s Nen back.

The way Gon lost it isn’t a mystery—there have been Hunters before them that lost their Nen due to contracts, but never anything exactly like Gon’s; or, at least, nothing they wrote down and preserved for future Hunters. Nen isn’t exactly easy to find information on, so they’ve been digging everywhere.

The Rose Aura Book is supposed to be the best resource on Nen, an obscure thing from long ago. It’s not by a Hunter, so it should have different ideas, which makes it even more valuable.

It’s also never been copied, not once. Some kind of Nen spell made it impossible, or so the rumors say. The well-preserved, coveted original is the thing they need, and it’s passed from hand to hand so many times in the past few decades that finding the location is near-impossible. Nen users like to keep their tools close to the chest, especially when people like those who kidnapped Killua and Gon want to get their hands on it.

It’s only through their wide net of Hunters they could ask for info that they could find that it’s in this area—a friend of a friend of Morel’s, who happened to know more about it than they do.

The other thing is that Killua doesn’t want to ask Nanika for anything more.

Nanika had healed Gon near perfectly. She’s done enough, without straining her power more. Killua can’t ask for more and he knows it. He knows, somewhere deep in his bones, that even if Nanika left Gon with the ability to unlock his aura all over again, it’s not going to be as easy as the first time. Otherwise, everything would be easy.

Still, he’s forever grateful to Nanika for letting him have this—these moments with Gon, traveling and protecting him and making sure he’ll get his Nen back. Even if it comes with danger, the knot in Killua’s stomach that twists with the anxiety of being close to Gon all over again, unsure of their friendship; even so, things are good.

Yet part of him is scared of the moment Gon will get his Nen back, all their searching coalescing into something that will let Gon go on his own adventures all over again.

It’ll be worth it—of course it will. But Killua is scared of the ending, even though he shouldn’t be.

Chapter Text

Killua stands next to the sink in the bathroom. The sink is running a steady stream over the cloth in his hand, lukewarm over his fingers; he’s already pulled out rolls of bandages, and he grabs them as he moves in front of Gon.

Gon’s eyes close when Killua starts to clean his wounds.

“That’s the one they made to get the Nen inside me,” Gon tells him as Killua wipes the blood off a gash on his arm. A hiss of air escapes through his teeth. “That hurts,” he adds.

Killua stares at the wound. Something dark and angry swirls in Killua’s stomach again, but he doesn’t let himself do more than frown before he keeps cleaning. Taking care of Gon is easy—Gon is simple, familiar. There’s an easy comfort in taking care of wounds; Gon’s finger is broken, so Killua takes care of it as fast as he can, taping it to the next one over.

Gon tells him how he got each and every injury. He talks quietly about them breaking the finger because he refused to talk about the Rose Aura Book even when his mouth was spilling everything in his brain.

Killua wants to forget it, wants these injuries to just disappear, alongside his own. He’d spent the minimal amount of time patching himself up before pulling Gon into the room, letting Gon lie on the couch and rest while Killua pulled out the first aid kit and tried not to stare at his own wounds, or the way his shirt had gotten heavy with blood.

Gon’s voice is a soft murmur. “I’m glad you’re here to help me,” Gon says into the lukewarm air. “I’d rather have you take care of me than anyone else.”

Killua frowns. “We should get some better medical attention,” he says. “I want you to heal right.”

Gon’s eyes are wide when Killua next looks at him. “But it wouldn’t be any good if people see this. I’ll heal fine, and these wounds would bring up too many questions.”

Killua presses his lips together. “True,” he says. “But…”

The thing is, Killua doesn’t know what it’s like to get medical attention for his wounds from anyone other than family—small scrapes don’t count, and he’d been passed out the last time he was hospitalized—during the fight against the chimera ants, of course—so he can’t remember it at all. It feels like it doesn’t count, because Killua doesn’t know any of it.

The things he does remember make him uneasy at best, remembering Illumi or worse, his parents—but those things are in the past, and this is now. In front of him, Gon is in pain, and he’s trusting Killua to heal him right.

“You’re thinking a lot,” Gon says.

“We’ll go eventually, whether you want to or not,” Killua says firmly. “And we should ask Leorio if there's anything we can do to make sure it heals right.” His eyes catch on the bruises and scrapes that litter Gon’s arm, from his finger to his wrist, both above and below the gash that caused this Nen. “At least most of this will be easy.”

It’s not burns or whip lashes. That, at least, is some kind of comfort.

“Mhm,” Gon hums softly as Killua puts bandages over the bleeding wounds. “You’re really good at this, Killua. You’re really nice, you know that? I don’t think anyone else would protect me like this. I was—I was scared, you know? That I could lose you. Or that you’d lose me.”

Killua feels his heart beating in his throat. His face feels hot. “I won’t let you lose me,” Killua says. The cloth in his hand suddenly feels too thin, a thread connecting him and Gon.

“I really like that about you. That you’re so cool and resilient, and you’ll always come for me.”

“What?” Killua wants to cover his face, but he settles for just turning away from Gon’s gaze. “Don’t say things like that.” My heart can’t take it.

“But I want to—or,” Gon stumbles over the words, “I guess the truth Nen is making me. But I want to say it! Because you’re just so good at this, Killua. If I wasn’t a burden without my Nen I wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this, and then you wouldn’t have had to save me. But I’m glad you did! I really am!”

“...You’re not a burden.” Killua forces himself to look at Gon, who seems almost caught off guard. It’s a new expression to have directed in his direction.

“You don’t have to say that,” Gon says with a small smile.

“I do,” Killua insists, putting his hands on Gon’s arms—away from the bruises, careful around the bandages, gentle where he can be. “You were practically tortured. That’s not your fault. You really can be so stubborn.” He huffs out a sigh. “Just let me help you without complimenting me for things that are obvious.”

“I’m sorry. It really does feel like my fault that I can’t stop talking right now.”

“It’s not,” Killua says. A pause where he weighs his options, the things he could tell Gon right now. He wants to say it; there’s a quiet fear pulsing within him. “For the record, I’m happy to save you anytime you need it, but I don’t want you to be in danger at all. And… I was scared of us losing each other too.”

Gon’s voice is thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to be scared for me.”

“Too late,” Killua says softly. His thumbs rub lightly against the small areas of undamaged skin. If he could comfort Gon in a way that matters, he would. If he could rewind time and stop it from happening, he would. “It’s fine, Gon.” And then, before Gon can add his own thoughts: “Is there anywhere else that needs bandages?”

Killua’s bandages come away already completely red. He changes his clothes carefully, and then actually fixes up the wound, careful with his hands.

He does it alone, because the look on Gon’s face when he spills his thoughts hurts him somewhere deep inside, deeper than this shallow wound. He doesn’t want to hear what Gon thinks about this, about the cut on his arm where the Nen should have entered him but didn’t, because he was—in this one, single way—stronger than Gon.

He wishes he was on the same ground as Gon again. It feels wrong to be stronger than him, when Gon was always some kind of shining beacon of who Killua should be.

By the end of the night, their information has been shared, the details of the Nen ability hashed out. When Killua tries to leave Gon’s room in the house they’re temporarily renting while they look for the book, Gon whines at him to stay, which makes a flush go down Killua’s neck.

To neither of their surprises, Gon is much, much more shameless under the truth telling Nen ability.

“I have to call Alluka and tell her what happened,” Killua says, but if he was honest he’d confess that he wants to stay with Gon too. After everything they went through, he doesn’t trust himself not to get needlessly scared that Gon is in danger again.

Gon isn’t defenseless, but without his Nen Killua can’t help but feel like he needs Killua’s protection.

Wrapped in a blanket that hides all the bandages and bruises, Gon is small, but he’s not entirely vulnerable. Killua knows about the strength that shines from within him, the thing that Killua loves most about him, part of Gon even before he became a Hunter.

“I want you to stay,” Gon says again. It makes something funny twist in Killua’s chest. “I know she’ll be worried, though—can you make the call here? Am I being too selfish in asking?”

Killua blinks. “No, that’s fine.”

He sits by Gon’s side and closes his eyes as the call connects. Alluka and Nanika are learning Nen themselves, the natural way—in a safe location. It’s times like these that Killua is grateful Alluka isn’t here, not in danger. She’s a fast learner, too, and he’s always proud of her.

“I’m coming there,” Alluka says when she hears about it.

“Hey,” Killua says with a frown. “Don’t. We’re fine, I’m barely injured and Gon is fine—sure, the Nen ability is going to be a bother, but you don’t need to worry about that.” Killua can’t stop himself from glancing at Gon, who meets his eyes with a brightness that spreads throughout Killua’s whole body. He tears his eyes away. “Just stay there.”

“No! I want to come help you!”

“They might still be out there,” Killua hisses. “Even if I wanted to kill them, I couldn’t in case their Nen became more powerful after their deaths. So they’re still somewhere around here, and I’m not going to let you be around them.”

“So letting Gon be there is okay, but I can’t even try to protect you?” Alluka’s voice strains, and Killua’s chest hurts for it. He wishes he could hug her.

“You don’t—you don’t need to protect me,” Killua says softly. He huffs, regaining his composure. “And I’m perfectly capable of protecting Gon right now, too. We’ll be out of here as soon as we can.” He doesn’t really want to stay here—he should come up with a plan as soon as he can, especially since they’re staying here for the time being, and especially because of the Nen ability.

“What if I want to protect you?” Alluka asks. “You always try too hard to do that, and you hide when you’re hurt, and—”

“I’m fine, Alluka.”

But she is right about one thing; he feels the burning need to protect his most beloved people. Gon, obviously, really needs that right now—but Alluka too, she can’t just throw herself after him for no reason.

Alluka is silent for a second. “Okay,” she says. “But you have to keep calling me. Stay safe, Brother. Or else.”

Killua laughs at her light threat. “I will. I’ll tell you how we’re doing every single day.” He glances again at Gon—who is staring at him and not even trying to pretend he isn’t listening in on Killua’s half of the conversation. “I should go,” he says softly. “Gon and I need to sleep, and then tomorrow I’ll figure out if we’re safe to leave. Okay?”

Alluka accepts that, telling him she loves him before he hangs up, and then she makes him promise again to stay safe, and to take care of Gon but also himself, and everything that a little sister does when she’s worried. Over the time she and Killua were traveling, she got the sense of the danger Killua got caught up in while he was with Gon—Killua is just lucky he never had to save her from anything like torture, not like he just did for Gon.

(When they were little kids, they were tortured together by their brothers. Killua doesn’t know if she remembers it. He’s too scared to ask her.)

He stares at the phone in his hand.

“Are you okay?” Gon asks, as though the floodgates have opened and he’s found his voice again. “You look sad—are you worried about Alluka? I’m worried too, but as long as she doesn’t come here she’ll be safe, and we can handle ourselves.”

Killua flicks Gon on the forehead. “Idiot. We could not handle ourselves.”

“We could!” Gon insists, holding the place Killua flicked. “You saved me, Killua! And I didn’t even tell them anything! I was too busy being scared about you, but that’s okay, because you were okay!”

Something tightens in Killua’s chest. He tries to push it down, but it’s spreading, exhaustion weighing him down. After everything they went through today—after all that—Gon was scared for Killua rather than for himself. He’s still so reckless, so headstrong, so—so Gon that it hurts. Killua wants to flick him on the forehead again for being stupid, or instead softly tell him he’d always come to save him.

He doesn’t do either. It hurts too much to be vulnerable, to admit that he needs to save Gon.

Besides, Alluka’s words about him hiding when he’s hurt echo in his ears. “Gon, I…” he struggles to find a way to tell him. “I was hurt, actually. It wasn’t that badly!” He puts his hands up before Gon can say anything. “You don’t need to be worried.”

“But I am worried.” Gon surges forward. There’s a familiar fire in his eyes. “Where were you hurt? What did they do to you?”

Killua debates showing the worse wound—the bandages stuck to his skin, the secrets Killua still kind of wants to keep from Gon just in case. It might be worse to show the one on his arm; that’s the one that represents the truth telling ability.

But Gon deserves to know, doesn’t he? Killua can’t keep this secret from him, no matter how much he wants to.

He sighs and rolls up his sleeve. “It’s not that bad,” he repeats. The bandages are still smooth white—easy to explain away. “The only reason I knew so much about that guy’s ability is because he used it on me. Briefly.”

Gon stares at his arm, reaching out gently. He takes Killua’s arm in his hands; Killua lets Gon inspect the bandages, turning his arm over.

“He said something about defenses,” Killua continues, hoping that the explanation leaves Gon satisfied with the answer. “But I think his Nen just—didn’t enter me for long.”

“But I don’t have defenses—it’s going to stick with me for a long time,” Gon says. It’s an obvious statement; Gon is going to have to deal with this for way too long. “If they’d only done it to you, it’d be easy.” He looks up at Killua’s eyes. “Since it left you so fast, unlike me—I don’t want you to tell me your thoughts either. Did they do anything else? Please tell me they didn’t do anything else.” Gon lets go of Killua’s arm, but leans into his space.

Killua swallows. How can he tell Gon that he was scared Gon couldn’t handle it? How can he possibly confess?

“I may have gotten stabbed while I escaped,” Killua says slowly.

Gon’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s—that’s really bad.” A beat passes. “You’re trying to make it sound like it’s not a big deal, but it is,” Gon says seriously. It startles Killua how sincere and blunt he is—though he shouldn’t be shocked at all. “I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want you to get hurt saving me.”

Killua shakes his head. “Shallowly.”

“But—”

“Give it up, Gon,” Killua says, keeping his voice even. Snapping never fixes anything, and he’s mature enough to know that it could tear them apart in a way Killua will never recover from. “I just—for now, I just want to sleep. I’m taking care of it, you know that.”

“I know you’re always fine even after things go wrong, but—” Gon takes a breath, “—I don’t want you to just leave me hanging like this.” He fiddles with his hands on his lap. “I mean—that’s not how I meant to say that.”

“It’s fine,” Killua breathes, because it is. “I’ve left you hanging too many times before.”

Gon smiles. It’s weird and wobbly on his face. “That’s not true. You’ve been with me all the time—from the first time we met. And now that we’re together again I want to stay with you because you never left me. That’s the kind of friend you are. But I—I wanted to help you. With your bandages.”

Killua looks at him flatly. “My bandages? You really want to deal with that?”

“No—well, yes. Maybe.” Gon groans. “I don’t want to do the bandages, but I want to help you, Killua! And I’m going to, whether you like it or not!”

Killua snorts. “I thought you wanted me to go to the doctor, or something.”

“I do!” Gon is smiling properly now—it makes Killua’s heart settle in his chest from the anxiety that had been filling it. “Just because I’m not becoming a doctor like Leorio doesn’t mean I can’t help!”

Killua rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue. “Just let me handle it. You’re being too much of a worrywart. That’s my job, dummy—your job is to get the stupid ideas. So next time you have one of those, I’ll do it for you, or we can wait until this stupid Nen wears off. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want,” Gon echoes. “What if I want to join you?”

Killua shakes his head. “If it’s better than being alone, sure.” He can never say no to Gon coming with him—even if it ends up like this. Even if Gon is saying things that make Killua’s heart swell to a dangerous degree. “But right now, we need to sleep. You heal better if you’re resting.”

Gon reaches for him—not a worried grip, but something that sends a pleasant shiver down Killua’s spine. This proximity and the worry fading from Gon’s sleepy eyes, this is the affection that tells Killua that everything is the same as always. Before they reunited, this is what Killua wanted back, more than anything.

“Stay with me?” Gon asks.

“Yeah,” Killua says softly, tethered by the hand on his unbandaged arm. As if he could leave without anxiety—as if he has any choice. This is bigger than everything that came before; baring his wounds in front of Gon is nothing compared to the feeling of gravity that comes with Gon’s affection.

Killua rolls down his sleeve again and moves to get under the covers with Gon. The bed has enough room for both of them, so Killua keeps space between them—a buffer between Killua’s heart and Gon’s.

Gon blinks at him even when they’ve turned off the lamps and the window is the only light source, making Gon’s shape silver and black. His eyes are soft, fuzzy with shadow. They fill Killua with a dangerous warmth. “Hey, Killua,” he whispers. “I’m happy you’re here with me.”

Killua swallows. “I know. I’m… also happy. That you’re okay.”

“I’m glad they didn’t get you with the long-lasting truth telling Nen too,” Gon continues. “You’d hate it. You’d be really angry at them, and at me for listening to your thoughts.”

“That’s not true. I wouldn’t be mad at you.”

Gon smiles. “Really? But I don’t know how you think at all, Killua. So I think I’d learn a lot about you—I want to know how you think, but not if it means you saying everything you think. That’s not good at all.”

“You know how I think, idiot,” Killua counters. “I tell you everything that matters.”

“Everything you think matters,” Gon says, whispered like a secret he’s been holding close. “And I really don’t know, anyways. Sometimes it feels like you hide everything from me, because you’re so good at hiding things. Like that you were hurt.”

“Sorry,” Killua murmurs. He doesn’t know how to think about the rest of it. He only hides the things he needs to hide. It’s not his fault that there’s so many feelings trapped inside himself that he needs to keep hidden—those feelings that spill out because of situations like this.

“I forgive you,” Gon says. “Because… Because…” His face scrunches up. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can blame you for being hurt.”

“You’re not making sense,” Killua says. “You really need to sleep.”

“I know,” Gon replies. “It’s hard to sleep when you’re so close. But I like that you’re here.”

Killua’s heart starts running on overdrive. He’s going to drown next to Gon, and he can’t even hate it, because he loves Gon more than Gon will ever know. Killua turns his head—away from Gon’s face, away from the earnest, shameless words that will kill him.

“Goodnight, Gon,” Killua says, maybe too fast.

Gon giggles. When he speaks again, it’s with the cadence of a truth he’s unable to not say. “You’re embarrassed, I get it. Goodnight, Killua.”

It takes Killua far, far too long to fall asleep.

Killua wakes up to Gon talking. To him, he thinks, eyes blinking open to see Gon staring at him.

“And it’s hard to stop thinking—Oh, you’re awake. I didn’t mean to wake you up, I was trying to be really quiet, but I guess I failed.” Gon is too close, lying next to him, close enough to reach out and touch, reassuring himself that Gon is alive and well even after the things they went through the day before. Killua’s hand twitches under the covers.

“What’s going on?”

“I woke up before you, and then I couldn’t stop talking to you. Even though you were asleep.” Gon flushes pink. “It’s the ability again. I wouldn’t—I mean.” There’s a pause where Gon’s lips are being pressed together, and then Gon’s mouth opens again as if by force. “I wouldn’t tell you these things if you were awake.”

Killua’s eyes widen. Suddenly he doesn’t feel so tired. “Huh?” He sits up. “Wait, what? What things?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Gon says quietly, pleading. Killua asked him a question when he shouldn’t have. Killua’s heart drops, but Gon keeps talking. “I don’t want to tell you that you’re—” Gon slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Gon?!”

Gon has already jumped up and run out of the room.

Killua runs after him, but he doesn’t understand—why would Gon hide something from him? What about Killua could possibly make Gon run away from him? It’s not like Gon doesn’t already say his thoughts openly, and the previous night had been fine, so why isn’t it okay now?

Killua’s mind is spinning when he finds Gon, sitting hunched in on himself on a chair in the corner of the room. Gon, when he sees Killua, slaps a hand over his mouth again, preemptively.

This is awkward. Killua grimaces, moving to sit in one of the other chairs—wooden and cheap because the person renting this place out doesn’t care about quality. He feels wooden himself, sitting there—braced to fight with nothing to fight.

“I’m sorry,” Killua says, trying to sound calm and mature when all he really wants is to make Gon tell him what he’s hiding. If he didn’t know Gon so well, he might think it was something terrible.

(He still kind of feels like it must be something terrible.)

Gon slowly lowers his hand. “Why are you sorry?”

Killua’s heart twists. There’s so many things he could say, but he wants to choke on the words. I don’t want you to hate me. I want to make sure you’re okay. Wasn’t this supposed to be okay? What about how it was last night, can we go back to that and forget about this?

He takes a breath. “I shouldn’t have asked. I wasn’t thinking, and, um.” Killua doesn’t know how to continue. “Sorry.”

Gon shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have been talking to you while you were asleep. It made me act weird.” He gives Killua a half smile, but it’s bright—it feels like a sunbeam, like they’re being normal again. It’s all Killua wants.

“You’re always weird,” Killua says with a hesitant smile of his own.

Gon laughs. It makes the worst of the tension in Killua drain out, warmth spreading down to his toes. “I’m not weird! I know you’re just joking, Killua.” The honesty is normal—a little weird to be told directly that he’s telling a joke, but welcome to know Gon’s thoughts are on that. It’s almost as if whatever Gon was about to say never happened at all.

“Yeah, but it’s also true. Even if you talk to me at weird times, you’re still Gon.” The fondness must be slipping into his voice, soft and light. “Besides, I know it was the truth Nen ability making you. It’s not like I can’t blame you for that.”

He wants to ask. He needs to know what Gon thinks about him while he’s sleeping. But if Gon wouldn’t want to tell him—if he’d plead with Killua again—he won’t ask.

Killua’s heart twists again at the memory, knotted with sickness and worry. But he ignores it. He’s good at ignoring things for Gon, and this is no different—this is what Gon needs, and Killua is nothing if not good at trying to be what Gon needs.

Gon hums an affirmation. “If I was smarter, I’d have gone before you woke up.”

He says it as an aside, a single statement before he continues with something else. He’s just reciting a fact—if he was smarter, he’d have left Killua. But he’s not smart like that, he didn’t anticipate Killua waking up, and now he’s calm again. So he’s fine. It’s just something that happened and it won’t hurt either of them now that Killua apologized for asking for more.

Killua forces himself to release the tension in his fingertips, leaving dimples in the wood where they’d been just seconds prior.

Killua flips the knife he stole from their kidnapper in his hand. The skull engraved on the handle is tacky, but Killua kind of likes it, in a funny way. Not that he really needs knives when his nails are even sharper than this is, but it’s good to have taken it.

It’s a normal knife. There’s no lingering aura on it, no poison, nothing.

He’s honestly debating if he should send it to someone with an ability like Palm’s, someone who can help him track down the person who did this to Gon. Of course, it’s not that simple, and even if they find him again, who knows if he’ll even do anything for them. Guys like that aren’t prone to letting their abilities slip.

Killua flips the knife again. It’s not too late to go back to the house and just stay by Gon’s side.

Unfortunately, he needs to meet with the person who told them to come to this city. Aura tracking the location of the book they’re looking for aside, he finds it hard to believe that she didn’t know anything about the kidnappers. Maybe if she sees the knife she’ll know who he’s talking about. Or maybe she led them into a trap intentionally, not that Killua wants to think about that.

She herself doesn’t seem that intimidating, though—she just looks tired behind her round glasses. “Oh, it’s you,” she says, holding the door open for him. Her blonde ponytail shifts on her shoulder. “Come in.”

They end up sitting across from each other at the small, cramped table where she said the book was in the area. Killua shifts uncomfortably, but tries not to be obvious about it.

“So,” she says, “did you find it? Where is Gon?”

In return for giving them the information on where it’s located, they would tell her all the knowledge they got about the Rose Aura Book while searching. This is another deal; Killua is used to the give-and-take of it all, but it doesn’t make him happy.

“No,” he says. “We got kidnapped by other people who are after it. There were three of them, maybe more. Do you know anything about that?”

Her eyebrows raise. “Really? Then Gon is out of the picture?”

“What? No. He’s fine,” Killua responds quickly, eyebrows furrowing. “He’s just staying behind, nothing happened to him. I just need to know about this, and if you know anything.” He takes the knife out of his pocket again, setting it down on the table between them. “I stole a knife from one of them. It has to do with his ability, since he needs to cut people to activate it. Do you recognize it?”

She’s a Hunter just like he is, and has been for years longer than Killua has; of course she knows more about this. Apparently, the man is often joining various criminal groups for odd jobs. While he’s on a job he's absolutely loyal to their cause—but as soon as he leaves, he jumps to the next thing.

He stays in the country and—though he already knows this—has an ability that forces people to speak their minds. The informant can’t say much else about him, but she didn’t know he was on the hunt for the book.

Killua frowns, but nods. “Thanks. That’s good enough—so he’s not using your info to go after the Rose Aura Book?”

“No,” she says, sighing and pushing up her glasses. “Though I told a couple other people about its location within the last few months, so maybe another member of the group found out. Trust me, if that person breaks their promise to give me more information, I’ll know.”

Killua doesn’t talk to her about much more. He runs through what they did to find the book before the whole thing went down—makes sure she knows that he’ll let her know if they leave the area, and all the other parts of the deal that he has to take care of. He takes the knife with him when he goes—no use in leaving it with her.

When he leaves, he checks his phone immediately. Gon promised that he’d keep his own phone on, ready to call Killua if anything happened—but the line of communication is silent.

It’s simultaneously good and nerve wracking—he doesn’t know if Gon is forced to tell the truth over text too, but he wouldn’t be surprised, so he doesn’t want to ask for too much. He just needs to know that Gon is still safe.

He clicks his tongue and sends a quick update, and then, I’ll be back soon. He gets a short okay! in response, and that’s it.

Something feels off to Killua. Not with Gon—as Killua moves in Gon’s direction, he feels calm about that, considering how Gon responded immediately—but something about the kidnappers. Who even are they? Even if they’re a criminal group that know all about Nen, why would they need the Rose Aura Book? The thoughts spin in his head over and over.

All of it is a puzzle Killua just hasn’t been able to put together.

Whatever their motives are, they didn’t give any of it up, nor did they give any indication of how close they are to finding the book, or why they’d need Killua and Gon’s help with it. It makes Killua’s unease grow, but right now he can’t do anything about it—can’t even know if they’ll come back after him and Gon.

Especially considering he broke the front door off their hideout, they’re probably mad. Killua snorts when he remembers that. Serves them right.

But more importantly, considering that the group might have to find another base of operations, all Killua’s knowledge of where they are might vanish completely, leaving him to worry about them coming after him and Gon all over again.

Or… Maybe Killua could investigate the place before they leave it.

He sucks in a breath. He might choke on the idea, something he can do without Gon—something only he can do, because Gon wouldn’t be able to stay quiet as he is right now, and getting more info on them is important if they want to find them in the future. The knife isn’t enough. None of it is enough.

He almost wishes Alluka were here. She’d be good sneaking alongside him—but it’s better that she stay safe.

Anxiety claws at the inside of his mind. If he really wanted to keep Gon safe, wouldn’t he just go back? But this is all Killua can do. Besides, he has a plan—slip in and slip out—and he has a reason to do it right now.

When he was a little kid, Killua was shown how to track people, how to follow out of sight in a way that erased his very presence from his surroundings. Just like now, he knew that death could be waiting if he got caught. But back then it was a matter of skill instead of protecting someone—and right now, Killua knows better than anyone else what he can accomplish.

He’s kept these skills from when he was an assassin. Maybe all of it was worth it, for this one moment—something only Killua can do, for Gon’s sake.

Killua braces himself, and then fades into Zetsu.

When Killua comes back, Gon is sitting in the same room as before—which is expected, because there are only, like, 4 rooms in this place. Gon looks up from his place on the couch, jumping to his feet while Killua slips off his shoes.

“You’re okay!”

“Yeah,” Killua responds. “Of course I am. I would’ve let you know if something happened.” (This part is a lie, not that Gon needs to know that.) “Don’t look so worried.”

“But Killua,” Gon whines—it’s almost enough to make Killua forget that Gon is being forced to speak his mind, because Gon is always like this. “You went off on your own, and I couldn’t even come! Did she say anything about them?”

Killua smiles. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t that important. I didn’t learn much about the kidnappers or the ability, but I found out the guy with the ability didn’t ask her for help, so that’s something.”

“Oh! That’s okay. But won’t it be harder to find them?”

Killua tries not to think about the inside of the building, the way his heart had beat in his ears. He’d heard voices, but not of the man with the ability affecting Gon—he can’t really say it’s useful info. “I guess. We don’t need to worry about that for now. Unless you think there’s a reason we should find them?”

“I—Yes,” he says, looking away and then back to Killua. “Their Nen ability is still affecting me, so I thought we might need to get back at them somehow, if that would stop it. And I don’t like just sitting here while you look for things about them.” He takes a breath. “Without you. While you’re hurt, too. And you didn’t even come back immediately.”

Killua keeps his face neutral. “I took the long way back. I didn’t want to be followed.”

“I wanted you to come back as soon as I heard you met the informant,” Gon says. His eyebrows furrow, expression worried. “I shouldn’t think that you’re acting weird. I want to trust that you really did just do it so that you wouldn’t be followed.”

Something sinks in Killua’s chest. “I’m not acting weird.”

Gon smiles, tight on his face. “You are, a little, but I think I know why. Everything they did was terrible. I want to get back at them, but they might hurt us again—I hate being here while you can leave and fix things. It would be okay if we could just do something, but…”

He just keeps saying these honest words—it’s the first time Killua has heard Gon worry so openly about anything like this.

Killua frowns. “I want to make a more concrete plan, but I don’t want to do it alone. I’m not sure what they’re going to do from now on, but getting back at them isn’t the issue. The issue is getting the book before they do. Is that good enough for you?” He wants it to be enough. He needs Gon to be satisfied with this.

“It sounds like that’s the only way it’ll work,” Gon says, frowning. “It’s just—it’s frustrating. But I like that idea. If we get the book first, then everything we came here to do will be done!”

“Yeah,” Killua says, giving Gon a smile.

“Thank you,” Gon says. There’s guilt in Gon’s expression, but it’s also something else, something wide-eyed and—if Killua didn’t know better—appreciative. “I want to come up with a way to find it too!”

“Don’t thank me.” It’s an automatic response.

“I need to,” Gon says. He’s suddenly too close, and Killua feels like he’s drowning. “You’re going to try to fight them alone, but I won’t let you.”

Killua looks away. “You’ve already been hurt too much by them,” he mumbles.

“But you got hurt too! We need to do this together! Hey,” Gon’s voice goes soft. “Will you look at me? I’m being honest—you know that. I won’t stop trying to be part of this. I can’t.”

How can Killua keep his eyes away from Gon at a time like this? He’s always been too bright, but with this honesty, with all his thoughts being injected into the air between them, Killua can’t help but feel overwhelmed. He forces his eyes back to Gon’s face, staring right at him from nearby, but not touching him—just close enough to fluster. Gon’s stubbornness won’t allow Killua to protect him, and that’s the worst part of this—the feeling like he might lose everything he holds dear.

Killua swallows. “I won’t fight them alone,” he says, even though he wants to. He’s not sure if he’s lying—he’s already hiding that he explored without Gon, and guilt is rising inside him.

Gon nods. “I know you’d want to—if we were going to fight them. I’m happy you care so much about me, but if you fight alone how can I help you the way you’ve helped me? What if something bad happens to you and then I can't do anything?” Gon pulls back.

Something changes in the air, the distance between them suddenly too far. It makes Killua uneasy, shifting his weight as Gon moves, still talking.

“I guess that’s not fair. I’ve worried you more than you’ve worried me. But I’m still scared.” Gon looks at the floor. “Like, maybe if you act weird it’s because we grew too far apart. Because I can’t be the same as before.”

“Hey,” Killua says, suddenly concerned by where this train of thought is going. “There’s no reason to be scared.”

Gon shakes his head. “That’s not true,” he says. “I’m scared of losing you. I’m worrying you all the time, and even now you’re still not saying anything to me when you really should. And—” Gon looks away from him, eyes only briefly flickering back toward Killua. “And I miss when things were easier, but they’re not anymore.”

Killua sucks in a breath between his teeth. He feels off center; he’s going to fall, and he doesn’t know how far. “It can be easy again once we deal with this,” he says, but it sounds weak to his own ears.

“How can I wait for that? What if it never changes?” Gon asks, voice straining. There’s a moment of hesitation, a second of staring at each other, and then Gon’s body turns to leave the room—mechanical and stiff. “...I should go. I don’t want to tell you my thoughts.” His voice is quiet.

“What?” Killua doesn’t know what to say to that—again. It’s happening again.

Killua stands there, watching him step slowly out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. He feels helpless—like he should go after Gon and tell him that there really hasn’t been any moment when Gon had to worry about Killua’s safety. But that—like everything with them and danger—would be a terrible lie. Of course Gon would push back.

Something between them seems to have shifted in the space of a single conversation.

Killua has worried about Gon so much it feels like a natural part of himself, as easy as breathing. Being close to Gon and making sure he doesn’t throw himself into unnecessary danger is all he can do, isn’t it?

Suddenly, it feels like it isn’t enough.

Killua knocks on Gon’s door. Gon doesn’t respond.

Chapter Text

There’s a horrible sickness creeping up Killua’s throat. Gon is locked in his room, and Killua is on the outside, waiting for him to talk. Of course, even that feels like a mistake, because Gon can’t help but blurt his thoughts, and clearly something is wrong. An encasing of dread becomes part of Killua’s life.

Gon has feelings about Killua that he won’t talk about. Killua has tried to accept it, but it latches onto some soft, vulnerable part of himself.

In the palace when they were fighting against the chimera ants, part of Killua was carved out of him. His heartbeat rang in his ears as he realized how far Gon was from him—a momentary lapse in composure that Killua couldn’t afford. At that time, he’d been unable to stop—so he took out his pain in his fights, had sparked electricity in his palms and in his veins until everything crashed down.

This is different; there’s nobody to fight except for himself.

Sometimes it feels as though Killua is revolving around Gon—a satellite following the trail that Gon blazes. Things have gone off-center since they split apart, and Killua has found his own way to move forward. Still, Gon’s absence has always bothered him.

He’s been afraid of this. While he traveled with Alluka and Nanika he let the months stretch around him, let himself shed the hurt from his time with Gon. It was almost expected, then, that it would grow back the same way—because as much as Killua wants to stay with Gon, and as much as things have been good, he’s still scared.

Gon won’t talk to Killua. Even now, so long since the last time it was like this, Gon is moving forward alone, bright and unstoppable.

Killua calls Alluka, just like he promised her. The facts are easy to talk about; he tells her about their hideout, how the walls felt too large and they weren’t clearing out yet, but he doesn’t know if they will soon. For now, Killua will stay with Gon and keep an eye on him until the effects leave. In order to find the book they need, Killua will come up with a new plan.

These things don’t have to do with messy feelings, tied in knots in Killua’s ribcage.

Killua lies on his back on his bed and stares at the ceiling. He wants to leave to clear his head, but protecting Gon is his first priority. He should come up with a plan, but his thoughts keep twisting around Gon’s bedroom instead.

“Do you think Gon hates me?” he asks Alluka, his main lifeline. “He shut himself in his room and stopped replying to me.”

“Why would he hate you?”

It sounds stupid when she puts it like that. He sighs loudly, resisting the urge to get up and kick something. “I guess he doesn’t—that’s not what I meant. It’s just, he thinks he has to protect me, and he’s obviously upset about something I did. Maybe it’s because I didn’t tell him I got hurt.”

(Or maybe, it’s something inextricable from who they are. Maybe they were going to fall apart again from the start.)

Alluka gasps dramatically, breaking through thoughts of Gon. “So you were hurt.”

“Don’t make it a big deal,” Killua says, smiling at his sister despite it all. Something in him is loosening, softened by his love for her. “Like I told you, I’m fine! I took care of it.” His fingers rest lightly above the place that was stabbed. It still hurts, but it’s easily ignored—he might not have a very normal gauge of pain, but it also means he knows when something is serious.

“You did not,” Alluka insists. “Brother, I know you. Remember that time you sliced your hand? And Nanika is going to be upset!”

“That was one time,” Killua says, amused despite himself. “And besides, the view from that cliff was worth the injury. Nanika definitely agrees with that, right? This is the same thing. I got hurt protecting Gon, so I’m actually kind of happy. If I hadn’t been able to get us out of there, it would’ve been worse.”

He knows that—he’s known that the whole time. But somehow saying it out loud gives it more gravity. Taking care of Gon is a task Killua gave to himself. His inability to do it without hurting Gon is something he should have broken free from, if he was a better person, someone worth being by Gon’s side.

Even so, Killua is happy. At least nothing worse happened. Maybe, just maybe, they can weather this storm, too.

“But you hid it,” Alluka says softly, nearly whispering. “We want you to stay safe. You know—if you let us come to you, Nanika will heal it for you. She’d probably do it as soon as she could, I mean, if she was able to do it without a wish…”

“No,” Killua says. “Let’s not. I don’t want to force her to do that, and it’s dangerous here.”

“Nanika likes healing people!” Alluka insists. “And she loves you, so you need to listen to her! What if I’m worried about what happens if you stay there too? What if they come back for you?”

“I have it under control. We’re figuring it out.”

“Let me come to you.”

“No.”

“Killua.” Nanika’s voice is a bit softer than Alluka’s around the shape of Killua’s name. She’s the only family member he has who says his name like that—a gentle Killua untainted by Kil. “I want to see you.”

“Nanika…” Killua lets out a large sigh. He has such a hard time saying no to her. Alluka, too, but he’s better at being stubborn in the face of stubbornness. “It’s a dirty trick for Alluka to switch out with you when she wants something, you know,” he says gently. “Tell her I know what she’s doing.”

“‘Kay,” Nanika says. “Alluka says just let us come.”

Killua huffs. “Hey, Nanika, how do you feel about learning Nen? I haven’t gotten the chance to ask.”

A pause. “I already knew it, kinda.”

“Of course,” Killua says gently, wishing he could reach out and pat her head, praise her properly for taking care of Alluka so well. “And… how would you feel if someone had a Nen ability that was more powerful than you anticipated? What if Alluka was scared because of it?”

“Scared… Alluka should be safe…”

“Yeah,” Killua says softly. “That’s how I feel right now, except it’s Gon instead of Alluka. So I’m staying close with Gon right now to protect him, and I don’t want you to come close, either. You need to help Alluka focus on learning her own Nen, since it’s so complicated for the two of you.”

There’s a moment of silence. “But,” Nanika says, “you’re not safe either. Killua should be safe, too.”

Killua swallows. “I know,” he says softly. “And I will be. You’ll see.”

He can hear her smile when she speaks again. “Alluka is good at Nen,” Nanika says. “So she’s safe. And Killua will be too.”

If they were in the same room right now, Killua would give her a tight hug. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, we’ll all be safe. Gon, too—I’m going to take care of him, and if I really can’t help him with this weird book, I’ll figure out some other way for him to get his Nen back. Just like you and Alluka.”

“Alluka will be happy,” Nanika says. “Let us come, ‘kay?”

Killua huffs out a laugh, feeling something loosen in himself for the first time in days. “Not right now, but maybe later,” he says, finally giving into what his sisters want—they love him too, after all. “Let’s do something fun, all of us together, after this is over.”

“‘Kay!”

Killua closes his eyes, trying to imagine that somehow this won’t ruin him and Gon. Eventually, Gon will have his Nen back, and he and Killua will be happy. Still—he wonders if Gon will even want to be there for that, with everything he’s hiding. Maybe something between them has been severed by an unspoken truth that Killua can’t imagine.

Killua sits outside Gon’s door. Instead of knocking this time—which hasn’t gotten any answer—he rests his back against it. The light is too bright, burning spots into his eyes when he tries to think about what to do with himself.

He has to fix this, but how?

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says, tilting his head towards the door. “But whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

No response.

Killua sighs and rests his chin against his knees instead of continuing to try to talk to Gon about this. Talking to Alluka and Nanika helped, but nothing will change until the truth Nen is out of Gon’s system—this is a poison Killua doesn’t know a cure for.

Gon is scared; that’s the only thing Killua has to go off of.

He feels small and pathetic; everything spiraled out of control faster than Killua could think about. At 12 years old, Killua had been uncertain about a friendship like this, but now he’s certain about how he feels and what he needs from Gon. Things that, apparently, Gon can’t return.

Killua hates to admit it, but he’s scared by what Gon won’t tell him.

The honesty that Killua thought Gon had carried with him wasn’t a lie—or at least, that’s what he wants to believe. Gon has always made him feel like he could do anything, like he believed in some way for them to get out of any situation. Killua tries to meet expectations, to step beside Gon and not follow behind him without a word.

They’re best friends. Shouldn’t that count for something?

Killua wants to trust that every good thing Gon has said about Killua was the truth—because even if Killua knows he isn’t good enough to be Gon’s friend, how could he doubt Gon’s earnest affection?

It’s stupid to worry about it. Gon’s truth, whatever that is, isn't something Killua can ask for.

But sitting outside Gon’s room, unsure if they’ll be able to fix this rift before the truth ability wears off and Gon is back to normal, Killua wonders if any of it meant anything. He’s at the bottom of a hole he’s been digging for himself for years, from the very moment he met Gon—and he feels like the light is being taken away for a second time.

There’s a pressure resting on their friendship. He’ll accept whatever Gon wants. Whatever Gon thinks. If Gon wants this to be brushed aside once the ability is gone, Killua will accept it. Gon’s lack of honesty is nothing in comparison to the terrible things they’ve already been through.

He’d thought he was over this; after their time apart, Killua thought he was ready again, that he’d be willing to accept whatever Gon did as long as it wasn’t the same as before. But this isn’t better—this knowledge that Gon has something he doesn’t want Killua to know, something that scares him so greatly that he’d shut Killua out completely.

And worse, Gon must know, just like Killua does, that things really aren’t better at all.

So Killua sits there until the ridges in his spine ache where he’s pressing them against the door. Then he stands up, bites his lip.

“Gon,” he says, touching his fingertips to the doorknob—locked, he’d checked before. He clears his throat and then speaks louder. “Let me know if you need anything. Send me a text. I’ll go out and get food for both of us.”

Killua’s phone lights up with a new text.

Killua sighs, quietly enough that Gon won’t be able to hear.

The door to the bathroom is closed.

Killua stops in the middle of the room when he notices it; Gon’s door is still shut, like usual, but normally the bathroom door is wide open. He’s sure Gon is in there—and doubly sure that Gon will keep avoiding him if he tries to knock.

A wave of despair washes over him.

When he steps quietly towards the door and tries to listen, he can hear the light echo of Gon’s pained breathing. If he’s trying to deal with his wounds himself—the same way Killua does—that would make sense. Obviously Gon is fine with that—having to take care of themselves is nothing new.

But still, Killua stands staring, and thinks about how he’d helped patch Gon up, how much he wants to have that again. It’s stupid desire; Gon had been scared, and Killua doesn’t want that.

There has to be something he can do to fix this. There has to be.

He’s fixed everything leading up to this, after all. It’s not something Killua is proud of, but it’s better than stewing in anxiety until the Nen ability wears off and Gon can pretend to be normal all over again.

Killua has done a lot of stupid things in his life. He’s way more stupid when Gon is on his mind, for reasons he refuses to attribute to how much he loves him, but even after splitting with Gon he’s been in difficult situations. Some of them were his fault, because he thought it would be okay to bring Alluka and Nanika along with him.

Because of that, he’d learned his lesson. He knows how to judge whether something is too much for himself and his sisters, so he’s become a little less reckless.

Talking to Gon right now is a whole different brand of recklessness.

He feels like he’s on overdrive, sitting alone in the living room outside the bathroom and waiting. Gon is going to see him and then instantly disappear back into his room, and Killua has to stop him before he does that. The distance between them is unbridgeable—Killua knows this. And yet he has to make up for his mistake.

The bathroom door swings open. Killua’s heart beats in his ears.

“Gon!” he says, like an idiot who didn’t just rehearse four different ways to apologize and say he messed up. “I have to tell you something.”

Gon looks like a deer in the headlights, but he doesn’t run. “You do?” A pause, and then his thoughts catch up to his mouth. “I have no idea what you want to tell me. Did something happen?”

Gon steps forward. He’s hovering closer to where Killua is sitting now, but there’s still plenty of distance between them.

Killua swallows. “I wanted to apologize for the other day. I went and explored our kidnapper’s hideout.” He bows his head slightly, but keeps an eye on Gon. “I thought that they might clear out soon or something, so I needed to strike soon. I was being hasty because I felt like there was a time limit.”

“You what?” Killua watches Gon’s hands curl into loose fists.

“I know, I know,” Killua waves his hand around, trying to dismiss any worry. “It was stupid. I did it on a whim. Sorry. I know you’re not like Alluka—I can’t just do stuff like that without telling you.” Gon is headstrong and never stops pushing, and Killua still wants to do things with Gon and not for him. It’s a lonely thing to realize he’s been doing. He keeps trying, and he keeps failing to be by Gon’s side.

Gon frowns. “Is Alluka really okay with that?”

That makes Killua smile. “Well, not really. But she trusts my judgement, so she lets it happen as long as I tell her later about it. So,” he steels himself, “that’s what I’m doing here.”

“You really love her,” Gon says, softly, a stray thought. “That makes sense, but I’m different. I’m not Alluka. I’m—I wanted to do that with you. I wanted to run back and fight them. If it’s just you, then that’s stupid.”

“Stupid?” Killua says incredulously. “That’s the best word you could come up with?”

“Yes! Stop it, Killua. You don’t think this is serious, but I do.” He’s kind of cute, standing there pouting—like they’re kids again and he’s just being stubborn. But too much has changed, and Killua can’t linger on those memories without a sharp spike of nostalgia and lingering fear.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He shouldn’t be thinking like that—it’s just proof that he’s not taking this the way Gon needs him to. “I believe you, you know. You don’t need to convince me that it’s bad.”

“I know you know—but you’re treating this like it’s nothing.” Gon sucks in a breath. “You’re acting like it’s easy, that this will fix things. You—” Gon shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know why you did it without talking to me.”

“It’s not easy.” Killua frowns. “It’s just—I can’t read your mind. Not even right now. So I kept making bad calls.”

And what would have happened if Killua really had gotten caught by their kidnappers again? If Gon had caught wind of him going back there—what would they have done to Gon if he came bursting in to save Killua? It’s almost funny—Killua is still making the same mistakes, over and over, all because he wants to be worth being by Gon’s side.

Part of him feels like he’s making the right choices, because this means he’s useful.

“You don’t need to read my mind, Killua. Not now, not ever.” Gon’s voice is firm, a tone that reminds Killua again of how bright he is. “Just listen to me.”

Killua has been trying. He’s been trying so hard to be patient, to wait outside Gon’s door and take care of this hurt quietly. Gon isn’t going to be okay right away, and that’s fine, but something dark is coiling inside Killua—a question he doesn’t know how to answer on his own.

“Then why are you running from me?” Killua asks, because bad choices and ruining things comes naturally to him, even now.

“Don’t,” Gon says immediately, a sharp blade of a word.

Killua feels like ice water has been dropped on his head. He knows the feeling—the frozen shock and then the way his body adjusts to what has happened. A chill calm that overrides any panic. His heart hurts; the thread that ties him and Gon together has been frozen solid.

“That’s not fair of me to ask,” Killua says quietly, “but I can’t keep thinking about it and never saying it, again and again. Why is this the thing that pushes you away?”

“Because,” Gon starts, a spark ready to ignite. The word hangs in the air for a second that feels like a million years. “I’m going to lose you. I’m so lonely, and I don’t want you to know. After the ants I was just—I was stuck with my thoughts for a long time, and I realized how many things I never said, how many things I thought were obvious but—but aren’t, and now I can’t say it. And you were out here,” he gestures around the room, but Killua doesn’t know what that means, “and I was still stuck, and I can never change. So telling you about this—”

Gon’s face twists, pressing his lips together into silence.

Killua almost reaches out. Almost, not quite, feeling himself choke on the words he doesn’t know how to say. He doesn’t know what Gon is talking about, because after the ants happened they didn’t talk for a while and why would that cause all of this?

If this was that bad back then, then wouldn’t Killua have known? They’d been close then.

Left alone in the silence with his thoughts out in the open because Killua can’t get himself together, Gon’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m scared. I’m scared of telling you everything. I’m scared you’re going to ask for more—I keep talking, and—”

Killua’s stomach jolts. He was so certain that this was temporary, but he was wrong.

“Gon,” Killua interrupts, because he knows it’ll stop the Nen ability. “Listen to me. I’m sorry.” All he can do is apologize again for crossing a line—a line he knew not to cross, a question that should have stayed unspoken.

It was a mistake to think that Gon was all honesty before they were kidnapped. Everything Killua loved about the ease of finding each other again was fragile, placed precariously and ready to fall. Killua hadn’t realized any of it. He’d thought he’d known Gon—that they’d talked about what happened with the chimera ants enough to leave it behind them, that Killua had understood the parts of Gon that were most important.

He feels like he’s collapsing, struggling to feel the correct way—he doesn’t know why the truth has to be so painful, stabbing through the two of them like this.

Gon is afraid, and that’s the only thing that matters right now.

Gon sucks in a breath sharply. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’m the one who—I don’t know how to stop thinking—”

Another blade between Killua’s ribs. This is Gon’s truth: the idea that he’s at fault for this inability to lie, given to him by a Nen user who didn’t care what would happen to Gon while he’s forced to speak his mind.

Killua swallows thickly. “No. I came to you first, this time. So it’s my fault.”

Gon looks away from him. “I don’t want to tell you this, but I shouldn’t even be feeling this in the first place. Killua.” He says his name like a breath of fresh air, rising up to the surface—like he’s talking to Killua and not around him. His thoughts are, at this moment, directed at Killua and not at the idea of him held in Gon’s mind. “I wanted you to come to me.”

“What does that mean?” Killua asks, even though he shouldn’t, even though Gon still looks on the verge of tears—but they haven’t fallen yet.

“I’m tired of being alone,” Gon says, smile uncertain on his face. “And I like being around you, even if it hurts. And it does hurt—because I’m scared, you know that, I hate this ability and it feels like it’s never going to end.”

“Then stay with me,” Killua pleads.

“I can’t,” Gon says, like this is the only option for them—to stay split apart no matter what happens. “I want you with me, but I know I’m going to mess up and hurt you. I don’t want you to know about what it’s been like since we split up. I don’t—” Gon’s face falls again. “There’s so much about me that you weren’t there for,” he continues, quietly.

Killua’s heart hurts, an ache that doesn’t die down. “I don’t care about that,” he says. “I know you want to hide things from me, and that’s fine. I don’t care.”

“I know you don’t,” Gon says.

“Then it doesn’t matter, because I’m fine with whatever you’re hiding!” Killua doesn’t know why it hurts so much; it feels like he’s going to echo out what he feels just like Gon is, and it’s going to ruin them completely. Killua’s too scared to actually say it, though—too scared to ask what it is that happened after their separation. “I changed while we were apart too,” he says instead.

He changed because even though he loves Gon, being apart from him gave him a different perspective. Clearly, he didn’t change enough—he’s still repeating things, trying to keep Gon safe even when it hurts both of them.

Killua is pathetic.

“I care even if you don’t,” Gon says, hunching closer to himself, avoiding Killua’s eyes. “Isn’t that the whole problem? I care too much.”

“You can’t care too much, Gon.” Killua loves him too much for that to ever be true.

“I can!” Gon bursts out. “I do! I care about you and I want you near me, and then I can’t stop talking, and it’s never going to be enough! You’re going to want me to say things that scare me, and then—and then—! It’ll be over. Because of this truth Nen, there’s no telling if we can even stay together!”

Killua feels sick. He’s going to collapse to his knees and beg Gon to stay, please stay—just another reason Killua is still a pathetic boy chasing after someone who doesn’t love him the same way.

It’s the feeling that curls darkly in Killua’s gut; Gon is still everything Killua loves, but he’s failed him. Protecting him isn’t enough.

If Gon isn’t sure that they can be close while he’s suffering, then Killua needs to step back, and he knows it.

He doesn’t want to scare Gon any more than he already is. He doesn’t want to keep facing his best friend, crying because he thinks Killua will ask him questions—simple, easy words that used to be normal between them.

It’s easy to pull back. Killua swallows; he’ll never solve this puzzle.

“I won’t force you. You can go back to your room,” Killua says, and watches Gon’s head jerk to stare at him. Killua looks away, awkward and afraid. Gon’s door is hiding the only place where Gon can be okay. “I just need to say… it won’t end. None of this is an ending. Because I won’t let you leave me forever just because of this.”

“But the Nen…”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Killua says, cutting off the thought before it takes shape. “But—okay.” He sighs, heavy between them. “I have something to say first, though. Will you listen?”

“Yes.” Gon’s eyes are staring at Killua. His expression is open, like Killua saying that he won’t leave has opened something in his heart and let him look at Killua like he deserves the ability to stay. Maybe if he does this right, he will.

“You want to help me, right? Then you can help me with my injuries,” Killua says, “and then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

It feels like an ultimatum, echoing the voices of all the people who thought that Killua would, inevitably, betray Gon. He doesn’t know if asking to be with him for just a few minutes longer counts as a betrayal, but he knows himself well enough to know what he has to do.

They’re in the bathroom again. The air feels stale, like they’re sucking all the oxygen out of the room even when the door is open. This time it’s Gon helping Killua while Killua is deeply scared of what’s to come.

In a way, his hope for Gon’s honesty has crumbled. Every earnest thing Gon said before must have been the truth, but it wasn’t the only truth, and that’s somehow worse than if it was a lie.

“Do you—” Killua starts.

“It’s really—” Gon says, at the same time.

There’s a moment of tense silence before Gon laughs, like none of this is even a problem. “I’m sorry,” he says, the laugh fading from his face and leaving something bittersweet in its wake. “That was my fault. I feel really awkward, and I don’t know if being with you is a good idea right now.”

Killua’s stomach twists. “I know.”

“But,” Gon says, “I want to make you happy. And I want you to be okay. Can you lift your shirt?”

Killua does as he’s told, letting Gon get to the stab wound. He closes his eyes and lets Gon mumble his way through thinking about how to best take off the bandage without hurting Killua and reopening the wound.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Killua says as Gon begins to peel it off. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Gon frowns. He’s focusing on Killua’s wound, which means it’s safe—in a way—to watch Gon’s eyebrows press together with worry. The anxiety that Killua feels is reflected back there. “Not from the kidnappers, and not from your family.”

“Obviously,” Killua says, because arguing about this isn’t going to help anything. He doesn’t flinch as Gon changes the bandage.

“Is that good enough?”

“Yeah,” Killua says, and drops his shirt again. “You don’t have to try to make me happy, you know. You’re suffering more, anyway—what matters is what you want.” He hesitates, and then adds, “What you want from me. I’ll do it.”

Even if his heart wants to strangle him—he loves Gon too much, but that’s exactly why he needs to leave Gon alone.

Gon’s eyes flick to Killua’s face, and then immediately away. “I want to stay with you,” he says quickly. “No—that’s not right. I want to stay with you because you’re important to me.” He looks like he’s on the verge of tearing up again—that same strained expression. “Being your friend is all I could ask for. You’re so important that—”

“Hey,” Killua interrupts, and Gon’s mouth snaps shut. “I—” he clears his throat. All he’d been thinking about is that he needed to stop Gon from crying. “I’m… glad. I want to stay with you too, I mean.”

Really, Gon doesn’t know even half of how important he is to Killua.

Gon shakes his head. “It’s so hard,” he says, pulling the bandage off Killua’s arm. “How can we stay together like this?” His voice is quiet, but it echoes in Killua’s ears.

Killua doesn’t have a good answer for that. The silence feels heavy, like any second Gon will burst in with another thought about how things aren’t easy—and it’s true, they’re not. This whole mess is something that Killua doesn’t know how to deal with. If staying together is this difficult, maybe they should have spent more time apart.

Killua had felt like he’d needed it, back then—he doesn’t regret it. But now that they’re back together, he’s going to cling to what he has, even if Gon is scared.

“I want to try,” Killua confesses. He looks away from Gon, trying to distract himself with the lines of grout that connect this room together. “But… not right now.” He pauses. “I think it would be good if Alluka comes here. She’s getting worried, and she’s trying to get Nanika to convince me.”

“Oh,” Gon breathes. He doesn’t say anything about the obvious topic change. “Is that safe?”

“I don’t know. Alluka’s right that she’s not defenseless anymore, but we were safe the whole time we were traveling together, so she doesn’t understand what it’s like to be a Hunter. Protecting her is my number one priority, so I want to push back, but… she really wants to come.”

Besides all the things he can tell Gon about, there’s another; Killua is lonely. He misses his sisters and the warmth they gave his life, and he hates what’s happening with Gon. He needs someone here with him, someone who isn’t running away from him.

Gon lets out a soft laugh. “Of course she’s your first priority,” he says. “She’s number one for you, so if she comes here I hope nothing happens.”

“Well,” Killua says, watching Gon replace the bandages on his arm, “she doesn’t have anything to do with the whole book thing, so she should be okay. Honestly, she might try to help us find it if she can think of a way, which would be great—we can get this nightmare over with.”

“It’s not a nightmare to look for the book.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Killua lets that hang in the air for a moment. Gon’s face screws up before he opens his mouth, and Killua sighs heavily to cut him off. “The real nightmare is the truth telling Nen, got it.”

“Yeah,” Gon says. “I guess. The kidnapping was pretty bad too, but I liked looking for the book with you.” He looks up at Killua with bright eyes.

Killua swallows something bitter. “You know, you can tell me more about how you feel about,” he waves his free arm in a vague gesture, “all this stuff. If you want. Even if it’s not good stuff, I’ll listen to you.”

Gon’s fingers slide on Killua’s skin. “I’ll say something weird again.”

“I don’t mind.”

“But you will,” Gon presses. “The worst part about it is that I can’t control anything—if it was just truth telling—if I couldn’t tell you any lies—then I would be okay. We would be okay. I don’t lie to you.”

Gon is still holding onto Killua’s arm even though he should be done. Killua doesn’t pull away.

“I didn’t think you would lie before this. I actually thought it would kind of be the same as normal even with you saying these things… but I was just being stupid. So I’ll let you handle yourself, but if you’re lonely, or need me for whatever reason, I won’t abandon you.”

He could never abandon Gon. Not in a million years.

Gon lets out a shaky breath. “I wish I could believe that all the time,” he says just over a whisper. “But okay, Killua. I’ll let you know if I need you. I always do.”

Killua’s face warms up faster than he thought possible. He doesn’t know what to say to that—if he should offer to be with Gon all the time, to just sit outside his door until Gon wants to talk to him about whatever reason he thinks Killua might abandon him.

That, he should ignore—it stings that Gon doesn’t trust him.

Then again, isn’t Killua the same? Not trusting Gon to talk to him under these conditions, waiting for him to come out of his room, wondering if this is going to tear them apart? So he keeps his mouth shut.

Back when they faced the ants, Killua had thought that being needed by Gon was all he wanted—now it’s just a fact, another truth, one that flusters but doesn’t shock him. Gon loves him—it would be stupid to think otherwise, even in the worst of times.

Killua gently tugs his arm away from Gon. “You’re being stupid,” he says, ignoring the heat still in his cheeks. “Just… let me know, okay?”

Gon nods, standing up properly. “I will. Since you’re being so nice about this now, it would be mean of me to not let you help.” He gives Killua an awkward smile. “I want to go back to my room right now, though.”

Killua nods and stands too.

He follows Gon out of the bathroom. The awkwardness and the remnants of how much this has hurt Gon linger in the air around them. Even if this is fixable, Killua doesn’t know how much more of it he can take.

Killua watches as Gon closes the door to his room. This time, Gon looks back at him, and there’s a softness in his expression that makes Killua’s chest tighten.

Chapter Text

Alluka comes into the house with a smile and a quiet demeanor, as if afraid that if she closes the door too loudly it’ll disturb the fragile peace that Killua’s made with Gon. The only thing that gives away how anxious she’s been is how fast she arrived—another day and night of Killua and Gon being apart, and then Alluka is greeting Killua with a tight, rib-crushing hug.

“Brother! You’re safe!”

“You already knew that,” he says, but pets her head gently with a smile. “How are you? Did anything happen on the way here?”

“Nope,” Alluka presses her face into his shoulder until her voice is muffled. “All good over here.”

Killua breathes a sigh of relief. “Obviously nothing happened with me or Gon or I would’ve told you. You still didn’t need to come.” He stands there with his arms around his sister for a long moment. “What are we going to do now that you’re here?”

Alluka pulls back to look up at him. “We could find the kidnappers?”

Killua looks away and huffs. “Not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“I already went into their hideout, remember?” Killua says, letting go of Alluka and running his hands through his hair. “I doubt they’re still there, and nothing they had seemed useful. And no,” he gives her a look, “they didn’t catch me, so that’s not the reason I’m avoiding it.”

Alluka gives him a knowing smile. “I didn’t think they would.”

“Gon agreed that we’d find the book we’re looking for, not do anything with those guys. Besides, you need to stay out of danger.”

“Brother,” Alluka says, her smile fading. “It’s not like that anymore. I can do this. I can help you and Gon with this.” She reaches out. Her fingers catch the bottom of Killua’s shirt and tug at it. “Please. Nanika wants to, too.”

Killua takes a breath and swallows down another complaint. “Alluka…”

“You can’t do this alone. You’re hurting,” Alluka pleads. “We can come up with a plan. If you’re really just looking for something and it doesn’t mean I’ll be in danger, you can’t complain about me helping!”

Killua feels his heart drop. “The reason they came after us in the first place was because of the—!” Killua clutches his face in frustration. “Everyone just wants to run into danger, when I’m the only one who can help you! The only reason I let you come was because I wanted you to stop being worried about me!” He puts his hands on Alluka’s shoulders, staring into her eyes. “Do not under any circumstances engage with the kidnappers.”

“Fine,” Alluka says. “But I’m still going to find that book.”

Killua suddenly feels so, so tired. “I know you want to do something,” he says, “but the best thing you can do is stay low with me and Gon.”

“Oh, Brother. You’re so worried about him.”

“Because he’s an idiot. And this is going to ruin everything. I keep trying to fix it, and it’s just not doing anything.”

He’s so powerless. Alluka reaches up and pats his head, her hand brushing back his hair like he always does for her and Nanika. “As long as I’m here,” she says, “I’ll make sure you’re not lonely. Okay? I can’t fix anything, but I can do that.”

Killua leans into the affection, even if it’s just a copy of his own—actually, that makes it better, a sweetness that he taught her, passed from brother to sister.

Maybe it’s not okay. But maybe that’s the point—just another test of what Killua can handle. Just another thing to overcome. He’s always been strong, which means he should be able to take this. At least he won’t be lonely now, shut out of Gon’s room again and the remnants of his and Gon’s honesty feeling like an ending that hasn’t quite found its mark.

He’ll keep trying.

Alluka sticks to Killua’s side. She knows about how much he’s been worrying, and her presence makes him smile. Still, Killua can’t ask for anything from her—even unconditional love is an uneasy thing to him right now, and he feels unsteady in everything he does.

But when she or Nanika says his name, Killua makes sure to give her a smile.

Killua makes sure everything is easy for his sisters. He doesn’t have a futon or anything for Alluka to sleep on, but his bed is big enough for both of them. They put her stuff right next to his in the small bedroom that Killua has been staying in, and that’s good enough.

This is just temporary, but it makes Killua happy.

“Can you tell Gon that I want to say hi?” Alluka asks, sitting on Killua’s bed and hugging his pillow. “I know he might not talk for long, but it’ll make him more comfortable if he knows I’m here, and that he doesn’t have to say anything to me he doesn’t want to.”

“Sure. But,” Killua turns to raise his eyebrows at her, “he’s really worried about it, so he might actually overthink himself into saying something he doesn’t want to.”

Alluka stands, dropping the pillow without putting it back in place. “It’s worth a shot!”

There’s no way that this ends well. “Alright,” he says. “But listen to him. He probably has a better grasp of this than I do, honestly.”

Gon isn’t fragile—Killua knows this better than anyone. By the time Killua accepted that they were in fact friends, Gon had already gotten beaten black and blue for Killua’s sake. Everything fragile about Gon is internal—something unreachable.

Alluka and Killua were both raised to let go of anything that didn’t fit right into their family’s idea of strength—but they’ve learned, slowly, detaching themselves from the rest of the Zoldycks—becoming able to find the good in someone like Gon’s present self, without his Nen. Killua still hopes Alluka will be better at this than him, able to see past the fragile truth and into the heart of what Gon needs—because that can’t be Killua right now.

Killua swallows and knocks on Gon’s door. Behind him, Alluka shifts her weight excitedly.

“Hey,” Killua says. “Alluka is here and wants to say hello.” He resists the urge to press his ear against the door, listening for some kind of response. There’s a nervous energy that flows through Killua’s body.

The door opens just a crack at first, and then wide open.

“Alluka!” Gon says brightly. “You’re really here—Killua said you would be, but I didn’t think you’d get here so soon. You were far away, right?”

“Only an airship ride away, actually,” Alluka says cheerily, stepping forward, in front of Killua. In turn, Killua lets himself fall back and watches them smile at each other. “Nice to see you again! It’s been a long time! Last time we hung out we were in a small village, right?”

“Yeah,” Gon says, smiling—it looks so genuine. His expression is so soft. “And then Killua and I went off together.”

Killua’s heart aches. “Well,” he says, instead of adding the details—a simple comment about what Alluka has been doing, about their current situation, or about phone calls and how much Gon knows that Killua needs to stay connected to his sisters. Nothing he adds will make this more comfortable for Gon. “I’ll go back to my room. Alluka,” he adds.

Alluka looks at him questioningly. “Hm?”

He wants to say: you were right, he seems fine with you—make sure to take care of him. It stings—after all their time together, Killua still can’t do it himself without making it worse. “I think the way the truth Nen works is that if you ask direct questions he’ll be forced to answer. So don’t do that too much.”

“Got it.”

Killua smiles and steps back, one foot behind the other. What can he say to Gon as a goodbye without making it feel final? They should still be able to talk to each other. “See you.”

Gon’s hand raises slowly to rest over his mouth. He doesn’t say anything.

Killua tries not to linger at the doorway, not to watch Gon. There’s nothing he wants to force Gon to say to him, and nothing he can do to make things change.

He falls onto his bed on his back. The pillow that Alluka moved is under his shoulder instead of his head, but he can’t bring himself to care, waiting there for something—maybe he should try to plan, again. It’s always the same thing—hoping that Gon is okay turns to Killua trying to think through everything that’s happened.

Instead, he closes his eyes until his door opens.

Nanika closes the door behind her, smiling at Killua with her dark eyes and pale face. “Gon told me to go after a little,” she says, sitting beside Killua’s leg. “But he was happy to see me!”

Killua laughs softly, sitting up. “He’s just stressed right now—I’m sure he’ll be happy to talk to you more later. For now, why don’t we go out and get some candy? We can share it with Gon when we get back.”

Nanika nods enthusiastically, and Killua grins.

Gon continues to spend more time inside his room than out, but it becomes clear quickly that he no longer feels confined—which is a good thing, but difficult for Killua to navigate. Killua wracks his brain for what to do until the Nen ability wears off, and curses the fact that Gon’s lack of Nen has led to this in the first place. But somehow, when he leaves his room and sees Gon and Nanika, he feels peace flow through his body.

Sure, there’s no answers, but in just a couple days things have gotten so much better.

Things are better for Killua, too. Alluka holds his hand while she sleeps, and Killua complains to her about the informant not having any information again, but in a way that doesn’t feel like an encroaching dread. He likes the sound of her laugh, and the way Nanika’s eyes are so expressive, becoming more emotive since she left the Zoldyck’s vault.

As promised, Killua doesn’t talk much with Gon.

It’s an occasional thing, a small word between them before Gon starts to break open and say more, and then Killua retreats once more. That’s all it is; Killua can deal with the deep ache for now.

At least, that’s what Killua tells himself.

Knowing that Gon talks to Alluka with so much more ease than he talks to Killua these days makes his heart ache—but it’s a soft feeling; he loves both of them too much to truly hate it.

His jealousy is more of a yearning—Killua is missing something, some fundamental piece of himself that he’s only able to grasp when he’s with Gon. This whole situation has thrown him off kilter, enough that seeing Gon smile at Alluka sends a pang of longing through his chest. Killua sits himself down and watches them silently, not willing to break the peace either of them feel.

And he will break this, won’t he? He can’t stop hurting Gon right now, so he waits. He smiles as his favorite people in the whole world are friends with each other, and wishes he could be happier about it.

Gon glances at him a minute later, catching Killua with his chin resting on his palm—staring at Gon.

Gon’s mouth is still open, mid-sentence toward Alluka. But his sentence stops in its tracks, and their eyes meet for a long moment. Killua wants to stand and come closer and join, but he hasn’t seen Gon so relaxed for so long that he knows he can’t.

“Killua,” Gon says.

He feels like he’s bursting above the surface and forced to realize that Gon is directing this at him. “Huh? What?”

“Oh, I was looking at you too long,” Gon says with a soft laugh, eyes dropping away from Killua as an indulgent grin spreads on his face. “I didn’t hear you come in.” He glances at Alluka, then back to Killua. “Do you want to join us? We weren’t talking about anything important, but…”

The longing for something more is filling Killua’s chest. He stands quickly, pulling a chair over to the table and sitting beside Gon. “You don’t need to invite me just because I’m here,” he says, trying not to smile. “You can keep talking about…?”

“We were catching up before you came in,” Alluka answers him, giving him a smile. “I was talking about Mr. Wing.”

Killua sighs, fond. No wonder Gon is so relaxed with her. She’s so separate from all of this—there’s never a tightrope to walk with her, never anything that Alluka can’t speak with confidence now that she’s gotten a good taste of the freedom she deserves. She’s like this with Killua, too—pushing him out of his own head and into the world alongside her.

“Right, Mr. Wing,” Gon says. “He told you to practice Ten and Ren every day, right? Are you doing it here, too?”

“Yep!” Alluka smiles. “Nanika and I switch off on practicing it.”

And then they’re back to this—an easy conversation with Alluka, who is smart and talented at Nen. She and Nanika are an anomaly, but she’s in good hands with their old teacher, though he doesn’t know the specifics of Nanika. Killua is able to chime in with how he introduced Alluka to Wing without mentioning Nanika, and he just wants to stay here forever.

He missed this. He missed Gon—he hates the conversations they’ve had while stressed out of their minds, spiraling towards the worst possibilities.

But here they are, and Gon lets him join them and talk with them about mundane life and their shared past, and everything, for a bright, shining moment, is okay. Killua moves to hold Alluka’s hand beneath the table and squeezes, because in front of Gon he can’t say something dumb like thanks for not talking about important things, I forgot we could do that.

But even that has to end at some point. It ends with a breath being sucked into Gon’s lungs, the sound of realization cutting through the peace. “Hey,” Gon says. “I have an idea.”

Alluka looks up, and Killua frowns. “What idea?”

Gon’s eyes get a certain glint in them—a light of excitement that Killua hasn’t seen in far too long. Part of Killua thinks it should scare him, but instead the feeling is electric, exciting. This way, Gon is speaking his mind about what the idea is; involving Killua in every step.

“You already went back to the kidnapper’s place,” Gon says. “So we can watch out for them if we need to, because we know where it is. Right?”

Killua nods.

“If we really need to, we can steal it from them. I probably wouldn’t be able to help, even though I want to, but… I always knew that I would be a burden looking for the book, even though it’s for me.” Gon’s face is serious, a slight furrow between his eyebrows. He looks down at the table. “I don’t want to be a burden, but if that’s what it takes, it’s fine with me.”

“You’re not,” Killua says quickly. “But stealing it from them is a stupid idea, anyway—we don’t really understand their abilities except for the guy who can make people tell the truth.”

“Don’t call it stupid,” Gon whines. “I wasn’t saying it was the best idea. It just needs to work in case they find it first, which they might! Besides, they would’ve stolen it from us if we found it first!”

“I think it’s a good idea, Gon,” Alluka says. “But we need a different plan first!”

The slight furrow between Gon’s eyebrows deepens as he pouts. “I still think keeping an eye on them would be a good idea. They’re going to go after other people looking for the book too, so even if it doesn’t work, it means we can help those people!”

“He has a point,” Alluka says to Killua.

Killua sighs. “You’re right, but we should probably focus on ourselves. And,” he points at Gon, smiling, “you need to watch out for yourself first. Do you have any ideas that can help us get the book ourselves? Because I haven’t been able to work anything out.” He’ll blame that on being stressed about Gon’s situation, not being out of options.

Gon frowns even deeper. Cute. “I do, kind of, but I haven’t thought about it much. And I didn’t want to think about it while with you two because I can’t work out the issues before I say something…”

“No, it’s fine. You can just say it.”

“Okay, well. Do you think it’s even possible to get to the book right now?” Gon asks. “I was thinking about what Ging said about—don’t look like that, Killua.”

Killua hates Ging. “Sorry, keep talking.”

Gon grins at him. “You just don’t look happy. But, well, Ging does archaeological stuff, right? I don’t understand all of it, but he told me a lot about how it works when Nen gets involved, so maybe this is something like that. He said that specialized Nen conditions and Nen after death can get in the way of a lot of things.”

“That makes sense,” Alluka says. “Is Ging super smart about it? Does he know a way around it?”

“He’s really cool and smart! But, no, I don’t think so. If it is what’s happening we’d still have to figure out what exactly is stopping the book from being found.” Gon puts his hand over his mouth while he thinks, eyebrows furrowing.

“So you’re saying that Ging has the right idea,” Killua says. “But if that’s the case, how do we find it? Wouldn’t we need to know where it is for an exorcist to do anything about it?”

“What do you know about the book already?” Alluka asks.

Killua’s eyebrows furrow. “Not that much, but that’s just because it’s been missing for a long time.” He lays out the general idea of the book, and Gon lowers his hand to jump in with his own way of explaining it.

“Since only Nen users want it, Nen users probably hid it,” Gon says. “It’s definitely possible that they made something to keep people away from it!” He’s excited, that much is clear, leaning forward on his hands. “If we tell someone about it, maybe they can find someone who can get rid of the barrier!”

Killua frowns. It’s plausible, but…

“Hey,” Alluka says. “I think I know how to get the book, actually.” She glances at Killua out of the corner of her eye. Her hands are clasped tightly in her lap.

“What is it?”

“Nanika got called an exorcist a couple times, right?” Alluka says. “So, if we need an exorcist who will get rid of the Nen…”

Killua sucks in a breath. “Alluka,” he says.

“Only if she wants to!” Alluka says. “You have no idea how worried she’s been, Brother!” She stands suddenly, hands on the table to lean over it. “I don’t know anything that can help either of you! But Nanika—she loves you!”

Killua’s heart tightens in his chest. He hates this—he hates that he knows she’s right, that Nanika will be able to help with this in a way that possibly nobody else will.

“I know she does,” he says softly. He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s the whole point, and that’s why I can’t just do it. We’re trying to fix this without putting anyone in danger. Especially not Nanika.” Because Nanika, despite being more powerful than Killua, is still just a little girl. She’s not someone Killua should be relying on like this.

Alluka deflates. “Okay, Brother.”

“I’ll think about it,” Killua says. “We can ask her about it.”

Gon watches them as the silence falls between them. His mouth opens slowly, but neither sibling stops him from speaking. “It’s fine if it doesn’t work,” Gon says. “But I really, really want you to ask. If Nanika wants to help me, then she should be allowed, right? But maybe I’m being selfish by asking for that. I want my Nen back.”

No, Killua thinks. I’m the one who wants to help you. Nanika’s doing this for me, not for you, and I can’t stand doing something so selfish.

He sighs, pushing down the anxiety that wells up inside him—the reminder, once more, that Gon getting his Nen back is their goal. After that, Killua doesn’t know what he’ll do. “All we can do is ask,” he says, then turns back to Alluka. He pauses, but speaks. “Nanika, wake up.”

Nanika’s face is pale and her eyes are dark, as always. She looks like a ghost, but a gentle, kind one. “Killua?”

“Did you hear?” Killua asks, because he can never tell. He found out while they were traveling that sometimes the two can communicate while one is awake, but he doesn’t really understand it. “We were thinking that we need to find a way to remove any Nen keeping the book from being found.”

Nanika tilts her head. “I can do it.”

“I want you to only do this if you want to,” Killua says, softly. “And I’ll need some time to prepare, in case it works.”

Which, of course, Nanika is fine with.

“I want to help,” Nanika says. “Let me find it. Killua wants the book, so I’ll get the book.”

Killua sucks in a breath. He doesn’t know what to say to that—anything Nanika gives him will be in the shape of Killua’s commands, and he’s never, ever wanted to take advantage of that. His heart is a big enough space for his sisters, even without wishes or requests. And besides that, he doesn’t want to take too many risks, because it could mean Nanika and Alluka get taken back to the Zoldycks, and he can never let that happen.

But even so, he softens seeing her face. “Thanks, Nanika. I’ll make sure to give you lots of praise when this is over.”

He smiles at his sister, and she smiles back.

They decide that it’ll be the next day. Killua makes sure he’s charged up and makes sure that he has everything he’ll need to leave—which isn’t much for him to do, but he’s buzzing with anxiety and practicing his Hatsu while Nanika is in his room anyway. Even assuming it works, someone might find the book instantly, before Killua does.

“Don’t tire yourself out,” Gon says from his doorway, peering into the living area.

Killua blinks and turns to look at him, his electricity dissipating between his hands. “Since when were you here?” he says, letting a smile spread over his face. “I’m just making sure I can fight, just in case. Best case scenario, I don’t have to do anything hard at all.”

Gon smiles back, stepping out of his room. “You worry so much, Killua. You’re always the one with the plans.”

Killua lets out a huff. “Thanks, I guess?”

It’s been a long time since Killua was alone with Gon without Alluka or Nanika with them. It’s only been a few days, but it feels like a lifetime.

He should retreat like usual—or else risk the heartbreak of his best friend not wanting to be around him. Instead, he hesitates here, standing in the center of the room with lightning still tingling the tips of his fingers—the electric buzz lingers if he works hard enough to make it potent. He’s been working on extending the electricity without making it hard to keep moving.

He doesn’t think Gon knows about that. It’s weird—they’ve been together for a while now, but he never mentioned it.

“I’ve been trying to use my Nen for longer,” Killua says casually. “I want to use less charge and have it last long enough so that I can keep fighting even when I don’t have much left. Right now,” he says, shaking out one of his hands, “I should be able to get it more powerful if I work on it, I think.”

“Wow,” Gon says, sitting on the couch to watch. “That’s really cool. I wish I could still train like that.”

This is why Killua didn’t mention it—this is why it hurts to talk about Nen. It’s all things that Killua can do but Gon can’t—the part of Killua that’s charged ahead even when, from the very start, he wanted for them to learn about Nen together. “Yeah,” Killua says softly, looking down at his hand. The tingly feeling is gone now.

He lets out a little spark between his fingers, and the feeling doesn’t appear again; the electric Nen he’s using isn’t strong enough.

Killua shifts his weight. “I should go,” he says.

“No,” Gon says immediately. “I want you to stay. It’s embarrassing—it’s stupid,” he says, words stumbling over themselves. “But I don’t think you’d come see me without Alluka. It made me kind of sad.”

Killua’s electricity fizzles out.

“Huh?” He wants to ask why, but the answer is obvious if he just thinks for a second. “I promised to leave you alone,” he starts. “That’s all. And I know I’m really bad at it,” he adds. “But you’re still my friend. So it’s not like staying is a problem or anything. I’m not… I’m not using Alluka as a shield, or something like that.”

“I’m still your friend,” Gon says, lighting up. He sounds almost relieved. “I’ve never stopped being your friend. And I never will.”

Killua feels his heart squeeze in his chest. This is another thing that Gon is saying because of the truth Nen—something real, something that Killua still doesn’t know how to handle. It’s an arrow shot directly into Killua’s heart.

Killua breathes in. “That’s so embarrassing,” he says out of habit.

“It’s not,” Gon says. “I don’t want to embarrass you, but it’s not embarrassing to me. I know you usually tell me to shut up, but I want to keep saying it.”

Killua sits next to Gon, slowly, feeling like he’s going to shatter something fragile. “I don’t—um, I don’t mind it,” he chokes out. He feels so stupid. “It is embarrassing, and I don’t know how you say that stuff, but it’s also… okay.”

“Good,” Gon says. He’s turned to look at Killua—there’s no closed off notion in his body language, even though Killua feels like he should back away. “I was trying to stop a little since we reunited. I wasn’t sure if you were cool with it.” He lets out a soft laugh. “I shouldn’t be telling you that.”

“You can,” Killua says immediately. “You can tell me all of it.” Even though Gon won’t accept it, Killua will keep repeating it, over and over.

Gon gives him a small, hesitant smile. It’s as radiant as any grin.

“Someday I’ll—I don’t know. I’ll be unable to stop myself from telling you. Not because of the Nen ability,” Gon shakes his head. “No, maybe not. We still don’t know how long it’ll take until it’s gone. But I’d like to wait, I want to be able to tell you on my own, without it being forced. Did you know, when I’m speaking because of the truth Nen it feels like my mouth is being forced open? I don’t even know if I can stop it with my hand. It might even force my hand down.”

Killua nods. He’s not sure he understands the feeling exactly, despite his own short time under the Nen ability, but this is important to Gon. “I hope that doesn’t happen,” he says. “Can I ask… why you’re okay when Alluka is here?”

Gon sucks in a breath. “Oh, yeah, I guess you can ask. I’m okay with that. It’s not like she’s much different from you, but there’s less stuff I want to hide from her—um.” Gon winces. “That’s not how I meant to say that.”

Killua’s heart sinks fast and hard. “I know. It’s fine.” It’s really not, but what can he do? This is the truth.

“I—” Gon’s lip wobbles. “I wanted to say that the truth Nen forces it out of me, but when Alluka or Nanika are talking to you, it doesn’t. It waits for me. I can choose when to join the conversation, maybe not all the time, but—you know. And then, Alluka is easy to talk to—but I like talking to her less than I do you.”

“Oh,” Killua breathes.

He shouldn’t be feeling so stupidly happy about it. He knows Gon likes him—but like an idiot, he clings to every reminder. He loves Gon, after all—even when he’s battling himself, even when loving him is the pain that stabs through him whenever he remembers that Gon is still and always will be hiding something from him.

“Is that okay?” Gon asks.

“Of course,” Killua says, trying to sound casual and not over the moon. “We’re friends, like you said. And since that’ll never stop being true, I hope you’ll keep wanting to talk to me. After this Nen ability is gone, we’ll be able to—to be normal again. We can do that, right?” His voice goes low, almost a whisper.

Gon starts to smile. “I think so. Maybe. I want it to be the same, because you’re still my best friend. I—” His smile fades from full force into a small sliver of light. “I actually don’t know if I want it to be the same. It’s just hard to think about anything changing at all, so it doesn’t feel like it should. I like being like this—well, before the truth Nen, I liked it, so I want to be like that again.”

Killua swallows. He knows better than to ask what Gon would change about them if he could, or why he doesn’t think they can.

If Killua could change anything outside the truth Nen, he wouldn’t—not because things are perfect, but because Gon always finds ways to surprise him. Their friendship is strange and interconnected, and Killua wouldn’t give up a single piece of it.

Killua loves Gon so much it’s going to tear him apart, but he doesn’t regret it.

He stands up. His heart is bursting with this feeling he can’t speak out loud; this feeling of love is something he knows he can’t ask Gon for more of. If he could change things, if he could make Gon fall in love with him, maybe he could ask for more—as it is, he won’t. He can’t. And that’s fine with him.

“Yeah,” he says, not looking Gon in the face, “I don’t think things can be exactly the same, but… We can do it.” He looks back at Gon and doesn’t say together, and he doesn’t say I want to stay with you forever, and he doesn’t say, please keep being honest with me even after this ends. Instead he swallows down the complicated feelings and leaves only the ones that are easy to explain.

“Tomorrow we might be able to get the book,” Gon says. “Isn’t it exciting?”

Killua smiles. “Yeah. And then—who knows, maybe the truth Nen will go away soon after that, too.”

Gon beams, and for a moment Killua thinks he’s going to say something hopeful, something so Gon it aches—but instead Gon says, “I don’t think it will.” But he’s still smiling. “It could, but I don’t know, it feels like it’ll still be with me for a while.”

It’s a never ending thing—but Gon seems okay with that, for now. Things are going to be okay, truth Nen or not.

A breath escapes the stranglehold Killua’s heart has on his entire body. “It’ll have to go away sometime or other. Hey,” he gives a false-confident grin, “maybe next time I see the Nen user I can get him to spill how long it has left.”

Gon smiles; everything falls into place.

Killua sits in front of Nanika, hands clasping hers while she wakes up.

“Hi, Nanika,” he says.

“Hi, Killua.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Killua asks her. It’s more of a request that way—though he doesn’t think she would mind it either way.

Nanika nods. “I’m going to help Killua,” she says.

Killua loves her. He really does.

Killua can’t hold her hands while she grants a wish, so he moves to hold her elbow instead. She’s so giving, she’d give everything to Killua. Having a sister like her is something he still isn’t sure he deserves. The love she feels for him is more genuine than Killua had ever known when they were children, and he still wishes he’d been better to her, good enough to protect her from their family, from Illumi.

“Nanika,” he says. “Remove any Nen keeping us from getting the book.”

“‘Kay,” Nanika smiles.

Killua can feel the aura that comes from her hands. This is a wish-granting ability that’s more powerful than any Nen Killua has ever encountered outside Nanika herself. If she was a stranger, he would be afraid of her. That’s why their family rejected her; she’s an unknown variable, a danger ready to crack the power they're supposed to wield.

When the aura stops, Killua lets go of Nanika’s elbow and wraps his arm around her back. Nanika turns her face towards him and smiles even wider.

“Praise me, Killua!” she says, black eyes smiling.

“Of course,” Killua pets her head and wraps his other arm around her, holding her tightly. Nanika is warm, her pale fingers clutching Killua’s shirt. “You did so well. You helped me, and you helped Gon, too.”

Nanika laughs softly, pressing her forehead against Killua’s shoulder. “I love Killua.”

“Your brother loves you too,” Killua says, petting her head gently. “Now we need to tell Gon about it, and I need to find out if it worked. Is that okay?”

“Mhm.” Nanika pulls back with wide eyes. “Keep praising me?”

“I will,” Killua says, smiling and hugging her. “I’ll keep praising you as long as we’re together. But right now we need to make sure everything’s safe.”

When he left Nanika and Alluka in order to be with Gon, it wasn’t a selfish thing either. From the moment they parted ways they’d known that Killua would come back to his sisters to take care of them and praise them again. But just like he needed time away from Gon in order to process all that had happened and all that he needed to heal from, he also needed time alone with Gon in order to feel like it would work out eventually.

Nanika had clung to him and cried; she’d gotten Killua’s shoulder all wet. In the end, Killua had to tell her what he was feeling about leaving with Gon, and Nanika had sniffled and nodded and, ultimately, smiled.

“I won’t leave you forever. Not ever. But this is really important to me,” Killua had said.

And when Gon is free from the truth Nen, things will be better again. Killua won’t leave Gon for good, unlike what Gon is afraid of. Instead, Killua will keep everything he loves safe—something he’ll give to both of them, never something he’ll take away.

Killua keeps his arm around Nanika even when they step out of the room—but it doesn’t last long, because as soon as Nanika spots Gon, she breaks away to talk to him.

“I did it!” she cheers. “The Nen curse thing is gone!”

“Whoa!” Gon’s face breaks into a grin. The sun is shining through the clouds; they might be able to get Gon’s Nen back now. “That’s amazing! You really are good at that, huh Nanika?”

“Yay! Praise me more!”

Gon laughs. “Because of you, we’re going to be able to do all sorts of stuff. It won’t stop me from having this truth Nen, but that’ll go away soon, I’m sure. Everything’s going to be okay.” His voice gets soft, and then he looks up at Killua above Nanika’s head. “Right?”

Killua nods. “Yeah. I need to figure out if the informant knows where it is now, but then we can go get it. It’ll be fine.”

Nanika looks back at him, tilting her head. “You’re leaving soon?”

Killua steps forward to pet her head again and press a kiss to her temple. “Soon, but not yet. You should stay with Gon while I figure out a plan. And after that, I’ll have to leave.” He should also check his charge, and make sure he’s ready to dash as soon as possible.

Nanika nods. “Alluka is going to wake up, ‘kay?”

“Sure,” Killua says.

He lets go of Nanika and then watches her close her eyes, her face becoming less pale and more human as Alluka wakes up, blinking her blue eyes open slowly. Her eyes catch on Killua, and she smiles immediately. “Did it work?”

“Yeah,” Killua says. “I’ll be back in a sec, and then it’s time to get the book.”

Killua gets on the phone with their informant. “Hey. It’s Killua. Can you check again about the location of the book? I don’t know where it is, but something might have changed about it—we did something with an ability.”

“One sec.” There’s a lapse of silence. “Huh. What do you know.”

“Is it there? Do you know where it is?” Killua tenses. If this isn’t it, then this will all be a waste. If it is—then Killua can fix everything. An exorcism is always a dangerous thing, but Nanika is good at it, so there shouldn’t be any faults. This should lead them to the book, and then Killua can get back to fixing things properly.

“Yeah, I know where it is. How did you do that?”

“Not something I can talk about in depth,” Killua says. “But it seems some kind of Nen condition was on it, and I was able to remove it.” Revealing even this much about Nanika is a risk, but there shouldn’t be anything that can be traced back to either her or Alluka.

“Interesting,” the informant says. “And very impressive—I didn’t think kids like you would be able to pull it off. But just letting you know, I’ll have to share this with all my other clients too.”

“I know.” Killua lets out a breath. A race against everyone else looking for the book, then. “Just tell me first. And if you can, delay it as long as possible. I promise I won’t hoard the book once we’re done with it.”

She lets out a sharp laugh. “Promises don’t mean much to me.”

“Fine,” Killua says. “What do you need me to do? I just don’t want those guys who kidnapped us to get their hands on it first.” Gon would never accept that—he can just imagine it getting worse if they have to steal it back from those guys.

“Well,” the informant says, smile in her voice, “I’ll consider it a fee for letting me find the exact location. It’ll just be a small advantage though, got it?”

Killua’s face sets with determination. “Got it.”

“We need to leave immediately,” Killua says. “Just like I thought would happen. I’ll grab it as fast as possible, and that’ll be it.”

Alluka leaps to her feet. “Wait!”

“What?”

Gon also gets to his feet, following Alluka. “That’s too dangerous. Alluka and I were talking—well, more like I couldn’t stop talking, but—you know. You’re still hurt, and you’ll be going alone to somewhere you don’t know anything about.”

“I have Godspeed, and plenty of charge. It’ll be easy,” Killua argues.

“I can help you look,” Alluka says, raising her hand. “I’ll be helpful. I can keep a lookout if you don’t want me to search with you! And then if things get really bad, you can—”

“No,” Killua hisses. “The other people who want the book are going to come after us immediately, and I don’t know what they’ll do. Just let me do this alone. That way, we’ll all be safe, and we’ll get the book.”

“Killua,” Gon says. “If you go alone, what will happen if someone else is there? I’m worried about you.” There’s a furrow between his eyebrows, a tension in his expression. “I’m scared, actually—I hate that I can’t help with this. The most I could do is keep watch of their hideout, and I know you won’t even let me do that. If Alluka goes with you, you won’t have to fight alone.”

“I don’t want to put Alluka in that situation,” Killua says bluntly. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Brother!” Alluka grabs the end of his shirt, and it’s enough to make him stop. “Don’t do it alone. We can do it, together.”

Killua and Alluka stare at each other for a long moment. Everything Killua has ever wanted to do, to protect the people he loves, to make it possible for his sister to live the life she wants—ultimately, it’s the fact that he trusts her that makes it possible for him to be what she needs.

Killua heaves a sigh. “Okay,” he says softly.

Alluka doesn’t cheer. She doesn’t do more than give him a small smile before her face molds itself into seriousness. “I’m ready,” she says. “Whatever happens, I won’t regret going to help you, Brother.”

Killua huffs. “Your safety is your first priority, got it?” And Killua’s own priority, too.

Alluka salutes.

They need to leave immediately—there’s no reason for Killua to linger. Despite that, Killua glances at Gon. “Are you going to be okay staying behind?”

“I don’t want to, but I’m just going to hold you back if I come with you. But,” Gon says, and smiles a familiar smile that makes Killua want to capture this moment and hold it close forever, “I believe in you, Killua! You saved me when we were kidnapped. You can do anything.”

Killua’s face heats up. “I don’t know if I’d say that,” he says, coming out strangled. He takes a breath to steady himself. “It’ll be easy, though, you’re right.”

“Stay safe. If you aren’t, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t lose you.”

Killua doesn’t want to think about what Gon will do without him either. He can’t imagine it. “You won’t,” he says, and it solidifies itself as his mission. Protect Alluka, protect himself, and get the book.

As he turns away, Killua can’t stop himself from smiling a secret, indulgent smile when he catches a last glimpse of Gon.

Killua hates a race against time. Assassinations were always a get-in, get-out job, and they still weren’t like this, tearing through shelves and searching for the book before their enemies come in and find them here.

The shelves and boxes are covered with Nen and similar books about strange phenomena, magical beasts, and obscure but not Nen-related secrets. It’s a whole library just about the powers that Killua has been learning since he was twelve. In between the carefully organized books are blank spots where books have been taken out or toppled against each other, and the rows have stacks like steps to get to taller shelves. Killua has to be on his tiptoes while on the stacks to be eye level with the tallest of the shelves, the wood a dark honey color.

This place is cold with the remnants of something like a haunting. Something meant to be kept out.

No wonder it was left behind for so long—Killua wouldn’t be surprised if this whole place reeked of Nen curses until the moment Nanika freed it. Something about the books is sinister—the person who collected the books is dead, according to the quick info the informant gave, but their knowledge must have been vast.

The idea is strange—they weren’t a Hunter, but they must have known Nen.

Killua’s heart beats fast in his chest the longer they go without finding it. For all he knows, it’s on one of the unorganized shelves, or in a completely different category, or in one of the boxes Alluka is handling for now.

Alluka makes a noise from the box area. “Found it!” Alluka exclaims. “Rose Aura Book—First Edition,” she reads out from the first page, and then starts to cough.

Killua’s heart jumps. “Alluka!”

“It’s just—the dust when I opened it.” She coughs again, then wipes at her watery eyes and stands up straight. “It’s fine, Brother. Let’s go.” He steps closer, peering at the book in her hand. Indeed, it says what she says it does—first edition, the only true Rose Aura Book that exists. It might not be guaranteed to get Gon’s Nen back, but it’s something.

Killua nods. “Godspeed?”

Alluka hugs the book to her chest, expression serious, and then nods. They’ll have to get out of the building first, but Killua picks up Alluka in his arms to jump down the stairs that led up to the odd library. They won’t be caught today.

Killua jumps.

It’s while he’s in midair that he realizes he’s made a mistake.

As all three kidnappers come into view at the bottom of the stairs, Killua realizes that he hadn’t felt anyone at all come in—not with his aura, and not with his ears. He’s trying to protect Alluka, but she managed to convince him to bring her to this place—and Killua can’t stop himself from falling towards the enemy.

He tries to change his trajectory, reaching for the bannister—but fails, his head suddenly fuzzy.

Oh, he thinks, barely managing to move so that he doesn’t crush Alluka as they tumble to the floor, this is what Gon meant when he said he was dizzy when we were kidnapped.

Chapter Text

Killua always tries to assume the worst and prepare for that eventuality.

It’s not a good habit. It’s actually pretty terrible for his mental wellbeing, if only because he expects that when he and Alluka get caught, he’s definitely going to lose her forever.

He struggles to get to his feet despite the ringing in his head telling him to stay down, stop fighting. That isn’t an option. Losing Alluka isn’t an option he can ever, ever consider.

Killua crouches in front of Alluka, hands already sharp claws that could easily slice through their enemies—if only he could move correctly. Instead, he glares up at them and hopes he’ll find a way out of this before they take them back and infect her with the truth Nen too—or Killua, again. He keeps his breathing steady, but it feels shallow in his lungs.

“Let’s make this simple,” says the woman who Killua had knocked out, back when he’d saved Gon from her. “Give us the book, and we’ll make this easy.”

“Good luck taking it from us,” Killua hisses.

Killua doesn’t risk looking back, but he knows Alluka must still have it—there’s no reason for the former kidnappers to bother with them unless they still need to take it. The problem is the Nen ability now affecting Killua and making him unable to fight—not something he can get rid of, and he’s not sure if Alluka is affected too.

One of them takes a step forward—they have dark clothes and a pale face. Their expression is almost bored, and their hands hold so much aura that it makes Killua want to pull back—except that there’s nowhere to go, even if he wanted to.

Better not attack their hands, even though that’s the closest. It’s better to go for the stomach or legs, or the back if he can manage it.

Like a cornered animal, Killua lashes out and draws blood.

The smell of iron hits Killua’s nose first, then the feeling of a hand on the back of his neck, and his body goes completely limp. His forehead is already aching from hitting the floor when they fell down the stairs, and he’s jolted again, slamming down against the hard wooden floors.

“Brother!”

“Stop trying to get away,” their attacker hisses. “Stop fighting back. We have ways around everything you’ll try.”

Killua lifts his head. There’s a gash on the leg in front of him, and blood on his own hand.

He has to protect Alluka, he reminds himself. Letting her get hurt is the one thing he can’t do, and they’re after the book right now, which means that she’s in even more danger. Knowing that this attacker might move forward and go toward Alluka, he lashes out again, consequences be damned, and then leaps back blindly.

The attacker hisses through their teeth at the pain. Good.

One of the others moves forward. When he forces himself to look, he sees the blonde woman, which is almost a relief in comparison to the truth Nen user. She reaches a hand toward him, and Killua flinches backward, again placing himself in front of Alluka.

He’s a shield, but not a very good one. Alluka places one hand on his shoulder. It’s shaking, the tremors digging their way into Killua’s consciousness.

“I won’t let them get you,” Killua says quietly, not looking back.

The woman is approaching, though—he doesn’t know what her Nen does, and he’s anxious about what it will be—what it will do to him.

“Brother,” Alluka starts. “You can’t—”

She’s cut off when a shadow comes and kicks down one of the attackers—Killua blinks and suddenly Gon is there in front of him.

That amazing, perfect idiot.

With that thought, the fight bursts into chaos, which Killua can’t follow—it’s all a blur. The one with the truth ability, Killua thinks, gets knocked to the ground, but the others move to fill his place instantly, and Gon—Nenless but still glowing with strength not related to the lack of aura he wields—begins to fend them off.

“What are you doing here?” Killua tries to ask Gon, but it comes out as more of a hiss.

“I did it,” Alluka replies for Gon, moving closer to Killua while their attackers are distracted. “I told him to come.”

Another wave of dizziness hits Killua, but he powers through it to speak. “What? Why?” Killua tries to blink the inhibition from his brain, but it doesn’t work—he grasps Alluka’s hand to hold himself steady and straightens out to prepare to fight back. Killua’s chest tightens as it becomes clearer that their attackers won’t let them get away with the book.

Even if they could, Gon wouldn’t be safe alone. Right now Killua won’t be able to fight well enough, but he can at least try to get Alluka and Gon out of here, no matter what it takes.

Alluka visibly tenses, and Killua can’t move fast enough to do anything before the woman with the blonde hair is moving toward them again. “Not—” Alluka dodges, hand slipping out of Killua’s, her back against one of the shelves, “—the time to explain!”

She’s right, and Killua hates it. “Get out of here,” he tells her, then grits his teeth to steel himself and rushes headfirst into the fray, because if Gon ends up getting hurt or worse, Killua will never forgive himself.

“I’m not leaving!” Alluka yells after him, which is just like her.

During their time traveling the world together, Killua made sure that Alluka could fight for self defense. She doesn’t use the Zoldyck techniques, but she has her own way of moving, dodging, getting behind people without being noticed. He’d primarily done it to make sure she’d be able to sneak away from Illumi—as fragile a dream as that might be, with how strong Illumi will be if he comes after her—but right now, it’s the only thing that lets Killua focus on Gon and not her.

She can defend herself for a minute. During that single minute, Killua will make sure Gon doesn’t get killed.

At this moment, Killua is grateful that he wounded one of them. Even if it wasn’t effective in escaping in the moment, it lets him pay attention to where they’ll falter.

The moment Killua is able to make out what’s happening, Gon’s arm is being grasped by the one with the dark clothes; Killua hears him choke as his back hits the floor, robbed of his ability to fight.

Killua swipes their feet out from under them before they can do anything else. With no time to waste, he wrenches their hand away from Gon.

“Killua!” Gon yells, jumping to his feet.

“Later.” There’s no time to waste. He keeps his eyes on Gon for a second longer, trying to find out if he’s okay, or why he came here at all—but he can’t linger on it and he knows it. Gon gives him a nod and a look full of determination and stubbornness, and then vanishes.

The attacker that Killua had knocked over grabs Killua’s wrist, and Killua is wrenched off-balance before he can think to steady himself.

Focus. Fight now, protect Gon and Alluka later.

Righting himself, Killua pins them to the wall with one hand. He has practice doing this even while in pain, poisoned, and losing his mind from the torture of his family. He knows how to do this. He was trained to kill whoever was necessary under circumstances like this, but as a Hunter, no longer an assassin in any way, he sparks electricity on his palms and zaps them nonlethally.

At that instant, before Killua can see if they’ve gone unconscious or not, a kick hits his ribs. Killua chokes, falling to his side.

He hadn’t seen it coming. His vision blurs.

“Hey,” the man with the dark hair—the truth Nen user—stands above him, foot raised. “You stole my knife. Promise to give it back to me and I’ll let you go.”

Killua groans. “Liar.”

“I’m serious,” he says, smiling—it’s a creepy expression, stretching over his face. “Though, obviously I want that book too.” He wanted it badly enough to torture Gon for it, to kidnap him and Killua, which makes all of his words worthless. He wants it badly enough that, standing above Killua, there’s seemingly no way out.

Killua clutches his stomach and lifts himself to his knees. “So it doesn’t matter that I stole your knife.”

“This job is a bust anyway. I can always get the book some other time, or find something better now that you’ve led us here,” he gestures around them to the library stairs. “But that knife is one of a kind.”

“We’re not giving up the book,” Killua grits out. “You can have your shitty knife after we’re done.”

“Oh, how interesting!” The man lifts his leg over Killua’s torso once more. Killua’s sense of danger heightens, but he knows he can fight here—it won’t even be as dangerous a fight as the one he’d just taken down.

Killua moves. His head is clear as he snakes his way around the Nen user’s back and holds his claws against his throat. “Don’t move,” he says lowly.

In the next breath Killua takes, he realizes that whatever dizziness must have been stuck to him is gone now. As he exhales though, he suddenly feels cold, and he realizes that the woman is holding her hands out, pointed directly at him.

Killua lets go of the man and jumps away. Alluka’s eyes meet his for a second.

From the corner of his eye, Killua watches the man go in the opposite direction, checking briefly on the body of his knocked out companion, and then standing, moving out of Killua’s line of sight. He can’t focus on that though, watching the woman gear up her Nen ability—but then, Killua catches a glimpse of Gon being pulled away by the truth Nen user.

It’s hard to breathe. If Gon is captured again—if Killua has to save him again—if something terrible happens to him—if it’s all Killua’s fault for not being able to protect him—if this whole thing was a mistake—

The moment his head is turned, he’s grabbed by the front of the shirt and yanked forward.

Killua just barely manages to not get hit by the blonde woman’s powerful kick, blocking it; his aura is a thick shield, but even then he can feel the force of it against his forearms.

He wants to go after Gon, but he has no choice. That’s the worst part of it, a desperation spiraling up his spine.

The good thing is that it’s two against one now. Alluka doesn’t have an ability yet, but Killua picks up the slack for her while she protects the Rose Aura Book. Together they’re fluid motion, even though Killua has to make sure he has enough charge left to knock her out.

With his head no longer fighting against the dizziness that made it impossible to move correctly before, Killua takes her down too.

His fingers burn with the remnants of electricity, a sure sign that he’s out of charge, but more importantly he and Alluka are safe. Moving closer in order to look over her quickly, she gives him a shaky smile, and then moves one of her arms to show that she’s tucked the Rose Aura Book into her clothes.

Killua lets out a relieved sigh. “Let’s save Gon,” he says.

Alluka nods.

Killua follows the path that the truth Nen user took out of the building formerly hidden by Nen. Alluka follows closely behind him.

“Why did you call Gon here?” Killua asks her quietly, looking around for where the man must have taken Gon. It’s maybe not fair to ask her right now, because if Gon hadn’t come then he wouldn’t have been kidnapped again. Killua’s fear is overtaking his common sense—as always, when it comes to putting the people he loves into danger.

Alluka is quiet for a long moment. “Nanika sensed that something was wrong when we got here,” she says. “I just wanted to be safer, in case something happened, so I sent him a text. I didn’t tell him to fight, I promise, I just wanted someone to know just in case. And something did happen, so I’m glad Gon came, because—’cause—” Alluka sucks in a shivering breath.

Stopping and turning around to face her, Killua puts his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey. Are you okay?”

She shakes her head. Her lip is quivering, but she visibly steels herself, looking up into his eyes. “I’ll be fine soon. I’m sorry, Brother—I didn’t know he’d get taken. But we can fix it… I think. We can find him, right now, and then—as long as he’s not hurt, it’s okay.”

Killua hesitates, but drops his hand. “You don’t need to save him to make up for that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Alluka nods. She looks more like she’s trying to convince herself that he’s telling the truth.

It would be awful if Killua passed on the amount of guilt he feels for everything he could’ve stopped but didn’t, down onto Alluka’s shoulders. She’s just a kid, and he wants to protect her from situations like this—all he ever wanted was for things to be better than it was with their family. All he ever wanted was for her to be free, like a normal kid.

Right now, they need to save Gon. Lingering on the anxiety will stop that from happening. “We don’t know where they went,” he says. “But it’s probably to their hideout, so we’ll need to find that.”

(And then what? Another fight that Alluka might not be able to handle?)

“Brother…” Alluka trails off.

“What is it?”

“After we find the hideout, what do we do?”

Killua frowns. “First of all, I’d need to charge myself somewhere. But then I guess we’d just rush in. Or—I would rush in. I don’t want you near him, Alluka. He’s the one with the truth ability, and I don’t want both of you to be under it.”

“What about you? What if you get it?” Alluka’s voice grows quiet and fearful.

“I escaped it once already,” Killua huffs.

He hopes it’s that simple; the thought of the truth Nen persists around them always, a constant reminder of Killua’s failure to protect Gon. He thinks again to the wound on his arm, the truth Nen that vanished within his body. If it was him who was forced to tell the truth, what would he do?

How would Gon react, seeing Killua spill his feelings? If he was forced to say how much he loves Gon, and how afraid he’s always been about what that means, what would happen to them? He’s known since the day Gon appeared on his family’s mountain fighting for him, that he would never be able to come close to being as bright as Gon is. Gon still doesn’t know about that.

Since then, Gon has kept shining—Killua would like to think he’s found his own light too, in their time apart.

This light is something he’s found with Alluka, something that’s all his own. No truth can erase what Killua has done for himself, and he’ll just need to make sure he doesn’t get under the truth Nen himself. He lets out a sigh. “I guess you’re right though. I do need to be careful, and I will be, I promise.”

Alluka nods. She opens her mouth to respond, but is stopped short.

They’re interrupted by the singing of Alluka’s ringtone—a distinctly bubbly sound that nonetheless makes Killua freeze.

Very few people have Alluka’s number. Killua doesn’t know how many do—that’s Alluka’s choice, and he’d learned his lesson after he tried to peek the first time—but he knows that she doesn’t talk to that many people on it, for safety. “Check it,” he says. “Is it important?”

Alluka frowns at her phone screen. “It’s Gon,” she says, her eyes jumping back up to meet Killua’s. “Should I answer?”

“Yes!” Killua lets out a breath. There’s a heaviness in his stomach that doesn’t match the relief he wants to feel—he’s not sure what’s making him feel so wrong. “He probably got away, or something.”

Alluka nods. She presses a button on her phone, and then another to put it on speaker. “Gon, is that you? Are you okay?”

“Based on the texts Gon got, I’m assuming you’re the girl who took the book from under our noses,” a voice that is distinctly not Gon’s says. “Before you say anything—yes, I have him with me.” The truth Nen user’s voice is airy and unbothered; Killua feels ice cold.

“What do you want?” Killua asks.

“Well, you took out my coworkers,” he says. “That limits my options, don’t you agree? I think we both know that you’d win in a fight.”

“Oh, those guys, yeah—they’re out cold,” Killua replies flatly. They should still be knocked out in the building they just left, which means it could be easy to use them as their own hostages. It would be better to scope out Gon’s situation than to make a bold declaration like that, though. “What about Gon?”

“He’s awake and chatty,” he says. “I’m not going to hurt him unless I have to.”

Killua’s hair feels like it’s standing on end. That’s an obvious threat, as much as it is an outward reassurance. “So you want me to give you the book.”

“That would be great.”

Killua meets Alluka’s eyes over the phone. She’s frowning deeply, and hesitates before nodding her head almost imperceptibly.

If Gon was here, he wouldn’t be happy with an ending like that. Killua has put in all of this in order to get it for Gon’s sake, but something like this would make that all go down the drain. Even so—Killua would give up the book for Gon’s safety in a heartbeat, if that’s really what it takes.

Maybe he can steal it back later. Or he can say he’ll give it up and double-cross the truth Nen user if it looks safe to. His head spins with ideas, but none of them are safe enough.

“What about your knife?” Killua asks. “You said you wanted it back, so I’ll give it to you if you release Gon. I won’t harm your companions, and I won’t even go after you again. Just leave us alone too.”

His heart is squeezed in a vice grip. Everything is going sideways. If this works, then Gon will be safe, and they can keep the book. If not—then maybe Killua can find out where he’s keeping Gon, and rescue him. It shouldn’t be that hard, because he’s done it before—but if the truth Nen user has more people this time—

It’s his only option right now—bargain with the enemy, and try to find an advantage.

“Without the Rose Aura Book? Just my knife? Of course, that knife is special, so I’d appreciate having it back.”

“I’d rather keep the book. Is it really worth all you've done? Isn’t everything about it just rumors?”

“Hm. Giving it up is acceptable, as long as you let me have all those other Nen books you left behind. I’m sure there’s good research material in there—that’s what the job was about, if you care—and if there isn’t, I can always track you down and find the Rose Aura Book later.”

Killua resists the urge to snap at him. While he’s holding Gon’s life in his hands, Killua has to keep cool. “Alright,” he says. “You can have all of them. Just don’t come after us ever again, and don’t harm Gon.”

“Deal.”

The call dies after Killua gets the location information, and Killua feels his composure collapse. By his side, Alluka lets her hand, still holding her phone, drop to her side. The two of them stand there, silently, for a long moment.

There hasn’t been silence around Killua for what feels like a very long time. Uncertainty swells between them.

“This is good, right?” Alluka asks.

“Yeah,” Killua says. “If he’s being honest. I don’t know if he is—I hope he is, but—” Killua bites his lip, closes his eyes, and feels his heart pounding in his chest. He’s able to save Gon. Even if this goes wrong, he can save Gon. He’ll do anything to make that true.

The rest of it happens like dominos falling. Killua is hyper-aware of every action—putting his hands on Alluka’s shoulders and telling her to stay behind, and then charging up while she hovers near him. The knife he collects is a heavy weight, a single object that had been worthless to Killua, now holding the weight of a life.

There’s nothing that says this will go well.

Tension settles on Killua’s shoulders. Alluka will be a couple blocks away—as Killua leaves her behind, his hand lingers in hers—a moment of connection between them that transcends words.

“Be safe,” she says.

And he will be, just like he promises her. He enters the area he’d been told to come to, forcing himself to relax. His anxiety ties itself around his throat, unable to call out and try to tell if Gon is okay until he takes a breath, holding it in and then releasing it.

Killua dials Gon’s phone. The silence as he waits for it to be picked up stretches for forever. At the connection sound, he speaks. “This is the Hunter looking for Gon. I’m here. Where are you?”

“In one of the buildings. Gon is fine, as promised.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Killua asks. “Let me hear him.”

“Killua, that’s you, isn’t it?” Gon’s voice wavers a bit, but it’s obviously him. Sure, Gotoh would have Killua’s neck for trusting something so simple, and there’s never a guarantee, but it hasn’t been enough time for this guy to set up anything complex—especially since he actually does have Gon in his captivity.

“Yeah,” Killua says. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m okay! He didn’t hurt me! I—Killua. I’m sorry. It’s my fault that I—”

“It’s not,” Killua says immediately. He tenses—it’s nobody’s fault, and yet Killua can’t comfort him. Not right now. “Later. We can’t just sit and chat right now. ”

“I know,” Gon says.

There’s a shuffling noise, and then the man speaks again. “Satisfied?”

“Yeah.”

The call ends sharply, causing Killua to wince. Left waiting, there’s tense energy in his chest, especially when a presence appears, though Killua has no idea what direction it’s coming from.

The truth Nen user steps into view from a side alley with solid, purposeful steps. His Zetsu is good—it’s no wonder he gets hired for those kinds of jobs.

Killua pulls out the man’s knife slowly, ready for anything. “The people you were working with are still in the library building. They’re beat up, but I didn’t torture them or anything.”

It’s a low blow considering what the man has done to them, but he just smiles and nods.

The silence is heavy, and so is the knife still held in Killua’s hand. He almost wants to laugh at the absurdity, how easy it is, how quick it would be to break into the rooms around here and pull Gon out after knocking the man out.

He doesn’t do any of that. Killua tosses the knife, and the truth Nen user catches it deftly from the air.

They wait. Killua watches with narrowed eyes as he inspects it—the skull on the handle first, and then the thin blade, running his finger close to the edge.

“A truce,” he says, finally. His dark eyes meet Killua’s. “This outcome is good enough for me. Don’t attack me or my people, and I won’t get back at you. Hopefully we won’t meet again like this during any of my other jobs.” He sheathes the knife on his belt. “Or maybe one of us will hire the other someday.”

Killua doesn’t let his face twitch.

The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out Gon’s phone. Same as what Killua did with the knife, he tosses it to Killua. Then he waves. “Gon is in the brick building to the west. I’ll be taking my leave, then.”

Killua watches his back the whole time. Sure, it’s in the opposite direction, but Killua is too on-edge to move from his spot—too cautious of what it could mean if the man is lying. As soon as he’s out of sight, something in Killua’s heart restarts, and he breaks out into a sprint.

It’s almost tempting to start Godspeed, even though Gon is close.

“Gon!” he calls as he gets closer, running into the building after nearly pulling the door off its hinges. “Are you there? Please tell me you’re okay!”

“I’m here! I’m okay! I’m so glad to hear your voice,” Gon calls back, and then the door is thrown open and Gon is there, moving towards Killua at the same time. His eyes are wide, but there’s no obvious blood—it’s just Gon, smiling.

“Gon!” Killua runs towards him. He’s running so fast that he crashes into him, tangling their limbs together but staying upright, just barely—he’s safe, they’re all safe. “Did he do anything to you? Did he really not hurt you?” he asks, because he can’t be sure, even when Gon is knocking his head gently against Killua’s.

“Nope,” Gon says. He returns Killua’s hug hesitantly. “Well, he talked a lot, but—no. He didn’t hurt me again.”

“Good,” Killua says, and squeezes Gon tighter, feeling the breath leave his lungs. He’s desperate for some kind of closeness. “I’m okay too, and so is Alluka.”

“You have a bruise on your face,” Gon says, grinning.

“I know,” Killua says, letting go of Gon with one arm to rub at his forehead. He’d almost forgotten about it. “But it’ll fade by tomorrow, so it’s fine. We all got a little beat up—including you.” He wishes he could heal all of Gon’s bruises, since he probably got some nasty ones from fighting without any Nen defenses. But if the guy with the truth Nen didn’t hurt him more, then Killua will just hope that that’s enough.

“It’s okay.” Gon’s voice suddenly goes quiet. “I’m just tired now. I can’t feel the pain. I’m just scared, and tired. But I’m so—so happy, you’re okay, you’re alive, I saved you. I got there in time.”

“Yeah,” Killua says. “You really did.” He wants to believe he would’ve been okay on his own, but would he? Two against three, without Gon to distract them?

Gon’s breathing hitches. “I was so scared. He had me in this room, and he sat here with me, and I kept thinking that if he left I could break out through the walls, but then he just talked to me. And he said he knew some way to keep me here, and if I did run, then what if he hurt you again? So I had to protect you, even while you were saving me. I’m sorry, Killua. If I’d gotten out sooner—”

“Stop,” Killua says, looking closely at Gon’s face, at his wandering eyes. Captured there is the fear that Killua dreads. “It’s not your fault.”

“It was.”

Killua looks away. The remnants of his anxiety have expanded into something even worse. “All that matters is that you’re safe. If it was your fault, then it was mine too, for getting distracted.”

“You were helping Alluka! She’s important to you!” Gon’s face tightens. “None of this was your fault, I just—I’m tired, Killua. I don’t want to talk about this, I want you and Alluka to be safe, and to go back, and for this to be over.” He sucks in a breath, like he’d run out of air while he spoke.

Killua swallows. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, but can I ask you for something?”

Gon is still holding onto him, and Killua feels Gon’s grip tighten on the back of his shirt. Gon’s body is warm, and for a moment Killua just wants to stay here, in this moment—tired and hurt but alive together.

“You can ask me for anything,” Gon says. “But if it’s anything other than going back and seeing Alluka, I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I just want to know what he said,” Killua says. “But that can come later, I guess.”

If he doesn’t ask, then he’s going to be worried forever. As long as Gon doesn’t tell him what he talked about, it’s going to hang over their heads. Eventually it’ll rush out, the dam breaking. This time, though, it’ll be okay. It’s a necessary truth, a conversation worth having.

Gon lets out a breath. “If you say so, Killua,” he says. “Hey, can we stay together?”

“Huh?” Killua breathes in, and his closeness to Gon makes it feel like Gon will feel his heartbeat, if Gon is asking to stay with him—to make something different after all the time they’d been apart.

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” Gon says.

Oh, that’s what he meant. Killua lets out a shaking breath, trying to dispel the mirage of a moment where Gon might ask—sincerely, truly—for them to stay together, and Killua would have to choose—

But no, this is just regular Gon. Killua scoffs with a smile. “Obviously I’m not leaving you alone. Someone has to keep an eye on you to keep you from going into fights like that again.”

Gon laughs softly. The sound rings through Killua’s soul.

Back at the house, Killua inspects Alluka for injuries.

“You’re all scraped up,” he frowns. “We’re just lucky they didn’t have worse weapons or abilities.” He dabs a cloth on the beads of blood coming from the scrapes. All things considered, she’s lucky. They’re all lucky, and now that the exhaustion has caught up with Killua he can feel it aching deep in his bones.

“I’m fine, Brother.” Alluka smiles. “That was my first real fight. Did I do okay? I evaded all that Nen user’s attacks and kept her away from you guys! Right, Gon?”

Gon, behind Killua and with no plans to leave, sounds like he normally does again—no lingering fear in his tone. “Yeah! I’m really proud of you, Alluka. Thanks for telling me to come.”

Killua sighs. “That was a disaster.”

Alluka’s face falls when she looks at his face. Guilt immediately worms its way into Killua’s chest.

“You know I’m right,” he says, reaching up to ruffle her hair. “But I’m proud of you too. You handled yourself alone for a long time—that’s really cool, Alluka.” He rips open a pack of colorful bandaids.

“Thanks, Brother,” she says.

Killua sits back when he’s done putting the bandaids on, sighing. “It makes me feel better for next time, I guess. But,” he gives her a look, and can’t help but smile, “we can think about next time when it comes. Hey, Gon, do you need any bandaids?”

Gon shakes his head. “No, I got some bruises, but it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Cool,” Killua lets out a breath of relief. “Me too. And now we can put that behind us.” He stands up and tries to look confident. “We actually have that stupid book now!”

“Yeah! But it’s not stupid, Killua,” Gon says. “I wonder what’s inside it…”

“I’m a little sad that we had to give all the other books away,” Alluka says, resting her elbows on her knees. “I kind of wanted to read some of them—they looked interesting! There’s so much stuff about Nen that I don’t know anything about! Maybe I should try to find more places like that. I bet Nanika wants to know too! We could learn more about her and where she came from!”

Killua grins. “That sounds like a plan,” he says.

“Some of them probably have better info about contracts,” Gon says, hand near his mouth but not quite covering the stream of thoughts. “Since my lack of Nen was caused by a contract, then maybe there’s stuff that could help me too? What if they can’t, though? What if it’s dangerous again?”

Gon’s thoughts stop, leaving silence in the room, a deep discomfort that Killua tries to shake off.

Killua clears his throat. “We’ll need to hide the book until we can be sure they won’t come after us again.” The idea of getting attacked again makes something sour rise to the back of his throat. “And then we can look at it, and maybe, hopefully,” he glances at Gon, “that’ll be the end of it.”

Gon’s hand drops from his mouth, and then he breathes in, half of a sigh of relief. The other half will come later. “I might be able to get my Nen back.”

They stare at each other for a second longer. Killua wants to say something, the things that have been on the tip of his tongue for hours, weeks, or years—but he doesn’t. He offers a smile and then breaks eye contact.

“Sorry,” Killua says, standing outside his room. “Can I have a minute with Alluka?”

“Oh!” Gon blinks. “Yeah—I didn’t realize that I was being clingy, sorry.”

Killua doesn’t even know what to say to that. How can he convey to Gon how little being clingy matters at a time like this? He wants to be close to Gon, of course, but that’s not all there is that he needs to do. “I’ll be right back after she falls asleep.”

A fond smile appears on Gon’s face. “I like seeing this side of you. You’re taking care of her.”

“Yeah,” Killua smiles. “And Nanika too. Because it’s my responsibility to make sure both of them are okay, obviously.”

“You can stay with them tonight,” Gon adds quickly. “You want time alone with them, and I wanted—I still want—time with you too. But last time, when we were alone, I could be selfish, and this time you should be with her. That’s what I need to tell you.”

Something feels off. “I know. Gon,” he starts, and then stops. Every question is something that could cut through the words Killua hasn’t spoken, and whatever Gon hasn’t told Killua? “Why do you need to tell me something as simple as that?”

Gon lets out a startled noise, somewhere close to a laugh. “Because I should tell you what the Nen user told me, but right now I think it’s good if we wait.”

“So you’re trying to be considerate of Alluka?”

“Yeah,” Gon says, dipping his head with an easy smile. “And because it’s easier to think about her being happy than all of that. And I was thinking, I can try to tell you something specific. That’s good, right? Because it means I can say what I mean, if I really try, as long as I think about it really hard.”

Killua nods. The sun has already gone down—the day they’ve been through is over. “Yeah—yeah, it’s good.”

If it means that they can be alone together again, that’s good. Even if it means honesty isn’t always guaranteed, it wasn’t before the truth Nen either—not from Killua, and not from Gon. The two of them just have to try to say what they mean, to get close to honesty even if they don’t fully know how to let it out.

Gon smiles. “I promise I don’t have anything too important to tell you—it’s mostly just stuff we already knew. And I’m keeping you from Alluka even more now.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Not the keeping me part—that’s fine too, though.” Killua glances back at his door—open just a sliver. Alluka probably heard their conversation; he’s still a little worried about her, and what she thinks about this whole situation. He recenters himself on Gon. “‘Night, Gon.”

“Goodnight, Killua.”

Killua turns away first, and listens to Gon’s padding footsteps as they go to his own room, just next door.

Alluka hugs him as soon as Killua follows her into their room. He lets out a small oof at the pressure, but it’s not a painful pressure—her arms squeeze him once, and then just wrap around him loosely.

“Brother.”

“Alluka,” Killua responds. “Sorry for making you wait.”

She shakes her head. “Today was so scary,” she says, leaning against him.

“I know.” Killua pats her hair. She’s been on months of adventures outside the Zoldyck mansion now, but it wasn’t until today that Alluka was forced to see the violence that follows Hunters like Killua around. “I wanted to keep you away from stuff like that. But you did really well, and now we’re all safe.”

“I already knew it would be dangerous,” she says. “But…”

Killua closes his eyes.

There was always the question of if Alluka knew the danger and death that comes with being a Zoldyck. Did her being locked under their family’s mansion stop her from suffering the way Killua did? She wasn’t as exposed to death as the rest of them—of course it was a curse in its own way, but the question remained.

She was stuck in her playroom, a stifling game of normalcy—never the real thing.

Desperately, futilely, Killua wants to give his sisters the normalcy they were never allowed to have. He wants to shield them from their family, and from the things he himself has gotten tangled up in as a Hunter.

Killua clings to Alluka tighter. “I’m sorry, Alluka,” he whispers into her hair. “I never should have let you join us.” He’s going to have to get used to Alluka loving him too much to let him go alone, and he knows it—but he allows himself to say these selfish words.

“If you had gone alone, you would’ve died,” Alluka whispers back.

“No I wouldn’t have,” Killua retorts. “It would’ve been hard, sure, but I’ve survived worse. So you don’t have to worry about me. Besides, we got out together. We don’t need to worry about the what-if.”

“Okay.” Alluka says. “But you can’t worry about that either, then. You’re not allowed to think about it.” She lets out a sigh. “I just don’t want you to die. I was scared that you would.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“Yeah, because me and Nanika and Gon can save you.” Alluka pulls away from him and peers up at his face. After a long second, she smiles tiredly. “I don’t regret asking to come. It’s what I wanted—and I know it’s what Gon wanted, too, even if he got taken.”

Killua’s heart squeezes. “I know. But still, it put both of you in danger.”

“Being a Hunter sounds hard.” Alluka sits down on Killua’s bed, curling up on her side and looking up at him. “I’m—I’m sorry about Gon getting captured. Sorry, Brother. I don’t know how to apologize to him.”

Killua sits next to her and brushes his hand against her hair. “He’s not even thinking about that. You can apologize later, and he’ll brush it off—that’s just the way he is. He never thinks to blame anyone. He came and fought on his own, anyway—like I said earlier, you did nothing wrong. We all did the best we could.”

Alluka's eyes are almost closed. “So did you,” she murmurs.

Killua leans over to press a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for coming with me. And thank Nanika for me for finding out that something was wrong. I just want the two of you to be happy, forever—you don’t have to be a Hunter, you just have to be you.”

Killua stays there until Alluka is asleep, pulling the covers over her shoulders.

Someday, all they’ll have to do is be themselves. There’s no guilt or anxiety to linger on, only the companionship that comes from being close to someone they love. Killua lies in his room with Alluka as her breaths even out, and wonders if things will really be that easy for him.

Chapter Text

(Gon had still been so bright on the day that they reunited.

Killua’s heart was lodged firmly in his throat. It was like an old wound reopened, seeing Gon standing there and smiling, the same as before—like nothing had changed at all, like they were still running around together looking for some new adventure. Before the chimera ants, that had been Killua’s world.

He clung to Alluka’s hand. She clung back; Killua didn’t ask her what she was feeling, or if this was her way of comforting him.

It hurt that he even needed comfort. Killua wanted to run to Gon, to never let him go again, to start from the beginning and have Gon’s smile light his way. Forgetting the darkness of their last days together was impossible, and yet—he’d already agreed to help Gon get his Nen back. He’d already chosen.

“Gon!” he called, and Gon’s name slotted perfectly into his mouth, a familiar song.

“Killua! And Alluka!”

They were too awkward to hug, but they still spent the day together, all three of them; they climbed the rocks on the edge of the village, and ate food at a stall for dinner, and then bought dessert that they ate watching the sun sink into the long grasses on the horizon. Gon had talked about Aunt Mito and the homework he’d finished the night before leaving Whale Island, and Killua talked about where he’d taken Alluka and Nanika that he hadn’t been able to mention in their occasional emails out of fear of being tracked.

But those days ended. Fear of being tracked slowly left Killua’s mind; suddenly, he was able to think about things like reunion.

He hadn’t known anything about himself except that being near Gon again was pulling all his feelings back. The desperate need to be close to him, the memories, the want for Gon to live, no matter what it took. Killua would’ve followed Gon anywhere.

And that’s why Killua wasn’t ready. He loved being with his sisters, but he wanted this back in a way he didn’t know how to handle, even as he and Gon set out together again.)

The morning doesn’t erase Killua’s worries completely, but the sunlight washes away the bruises on his emotions, even if his body still aches from the fight the other day.

He feels calm when he goes to talk to Gon—imagines for a second the way the new day must have made things better, even if only a little. Killua is hardwired to worry, but he wants so badly for Gon to greet him with a smile.

Of course, it’s not that easy.

When Killua knocks on Gon’s door and gets told to come in, Gon is looking up at him, but he’s holding the Rose Aura Book in his hands. It’s not open—he was just staring at the cover, or he’d closed it before Killua came in.

“How’s the book?” Killua asks.

“There’s something about contracts and losing Nen because of it,” Gon says, “but it’s not long, and I haven’t read it all. I’m kind of scared to. What if it doesn’t work?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Killua says. Fear stings his heart. “Even if it doesn’t have anything, it should point us in the right direction. That’s why we looked for the Rose Aura Book specifically, remember? Also, it’s huge. There could be more stuff about losing Nen in other parts.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Gon says. “And you’re right, but… I still want my Nen back.”

Killua sits down on the edge of Gon’s bed. “We’ll get it. It’s important, but, Gon—I didn’t think it was that big of a problem. Not having Nen, I mean.”

“It’s not—it wasn’t. But I can’t fight as well without it.” Gon shrugs. “I want to say that the path to getting Nen is more important than having it, but last time it was really easy to get Nen, and now I just can’t get it back without looking for books and stuff. It just feels unfair!” Gon sighs. “I was okay with it back when I was on Whale Island, you know? And I was having fun, but the truth Nen makes me feel weird about it. It would’ve been better if I was stronger.”

“Being strong isn’t everything.” Killua’s heart clenches.

“Thanks, Killua,” Gon says, smiling. “I believe you, you know? Because you’re so cool, and you know me so well. So maybe I can be okay with it again, as long as we can keep looking.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Killua says, waving Gon away and not looking him in the eye.

“I want to, though.”

Even though he expects Gon to say embarrassing things while under this Nen ability, it throws him off every time. It doesn’t mean he forgets that Gon thinks that the truth Nen might push them apart even more, either—and that Killua still hasn’t asked about the user of the truth Nen, and what it means for the two of them.

Even Gon’s thankfulness, his light, could be erased by this.

What if it all goes wrong again, and it’s Killua’s fault? What if this isn’t a good idea? There’s a thousand different what-ifs; but Killua promised Alluka he wouldn’t think about them. All that matters is figuring out what to do next.

All that’s left to do is ask.

Killua lets out a breath. He’s winding himself up for no reason. “Is this a good time to talk about the truth Nen guy?” They’re not close enough to be touching, but Killua thinks that if talking about this hurts that he could reach out to him. Maybe that would be enough.

Gon gives him a small smile, putting the book on the bedside table. “Oh, yeah. It’s probably not going to be what you want to hear, though.”

Whatever Gon will tell him, Killua can take it. He smiles back at Gon. “Go ahead. I want to know.”

“He didn’t want to tell me much of anything,” Gon says. “But he just… wanted the book. And he was sorry for making me tell the truth for so long—apparently my defenses are really low because of not having Nen, but also because of some other stuff, like,” Gon pauses. “Like… wanting to hide things. If he uses it on someone and they refuse to spill, it’ll last longer, so it’s affecting me stronger, I guess.”

“Huh?” Killua tenses. “You mean it’ll be active until you actually say it?” Killua’s heart twists. He doesn’t want to force Gon to talk, but this makes him want to reach out, to seek the truth because that’s what’s hurting Gon.

“No! I mean, I don’t think so!” Gon waves his hands around. “He said it shouldn’t last longer than a month even in the worst case.”

“A month?!” Killua makes a distressed noise in the back of his throat.

It feels like it’s been forever already. Forever of walking around Gon and feeling the distance between them grow. Still stuck on the outside of whatever Gon is hiding from him. He can survive a few more weeks, but he wishes this would end.

Gon gives him a bittersweet smile. “I hope it doesn’t take that long.”

Killua sinks in place, forcing his face into a calm expression. “So is the plan to just wait out the rest of the month? You don’t want to say it, right?” Because if Gon is hiding it, then this will last longer. If Gon tells him, if they finally lay it all out, then Killua can know, and Gon can be free, and they’ll both be happy.

But that’s a selfish thought. This is something so big that Gon locked himself away from Killua. He won’t push it.

“Saying it would be… bad.” Gon shakes his head, kicking his feet off the side of the bed and settling next to Killua. “Not that you don’t already know that. But I really, really can’t. It’s scary because I didn’t think it mattered this much, and I don’t want to make you worry about it, and I wanted—I wanted to tell you, actually.” He says it all in a full breath. “But not like this, not like—I’m saying too much again.”

Killua’s heart sinks. Again and again, they’ve come back to this. “We can wait, then. It sounds better, honestly.”

“Thanks, Killua. You’re a really good friend.” His voice is so soft.

“If that’s how it is, then…” Killua stands, turning to look at Gon. “We’ll figure something out while we wait, okay? We can make sure you don’t feel like you’ll tell me. Both of us, together.” Maybe that’s too much to ask for, but Killua wants it—they can do this together, just like they fight side by side. Waiting is protecting Gon too.

Gon catches Killua’s wrist. “I want to do this together,” Gon says. “That’s all. Sit down?”

“Huh?”

“I want you to sit next to me again,” Gon says, as if Killua’s startled noise was a question for him to answer. “I said it already, but I didn’t want to be alone last night, either. I keep wanting to be with you so that I’m not lonely anymore, but it’s so easy to let you go, too. If I need to let you go, I can, but I don’t want to.” He meets Killua’s eyes.

Killua lowers himself to sit next to Gon again. Gon’s fingers don’t leave his wrist. “You apologized for being clingy yesterday, but you didn’t really mean it, huh?” he jokes gently.

Gon smiles. “No, I was being honest! I promise.”

“I know.” Killua lets out a breath. “If you can keep talking like this, and say what you want to say, as long as it’s honest, do you think it’ll go away sooner?”

“Maybe?” Gon tilts his head slightly, eyes still on Killua’s face. “If I focus. But won’t that just make me say too much again? I’m too on edge.” His eyes drop, his smile fading. “If you were there when I talked to him, maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad—I just didn’t know what would happen.” Gon’s expression falls completely, any cheer he’d been feeling because of Killua falling away in an instant.

Killua doesn’t know what to say. “I wish you hadn’t been alone. I would’ve gotten taken with you again if that would’ve helped.”

“It might have! I don’t know. But I didn’t want you to be taken! I didn’t want you to be hurt! That would’ve been worse.” He sucks in a breath. “I used to be really brave,” he says quietly. “But it’s hard to be excited about fighting someone like that. He could’ve cut me again, or tortured me, or found a way to hurt you.”

Killua’s heart drops. “He didn’t, though.”

“I know!” Gon’s voice shakes. “I know. It’s terrifying to be without Nen, to know that if I just do something wrong he’d make everything worse. I don’t want—I never wanted you to see me hurt again.”

The breath is knocked out of Killua’s lungs. Again, because they’ve been hurt a hundred times but they always ended up okay because there was a way out. This time there’s no Nen to protect Gon—nothing to save the two of them but trust.

Killua doesn’t know how to think about it. He doesn’t say anything, because Gon keeps talking.

“And I couldn’t even pretend to be thinking about other things! So I just asked him a bunch of questions. I asked him whatever I could think about, because if I didn’t then he’d know I was also thinking about trying to escape. I don’t know why he answered me, it doesn’t make sense, but he kept talking to me. I couldn’t do anything. Even if I tried to say something, to do something, anything, he would know the truth.”

“Gon,” Killua calls softly.

“I know it’s nothing compared to what we did back when I did have Nen. I know! But back then, we were together, and now I just feel so alone. We’re together, but I’m alone and useless, and I don’t know why you’d put yourself in danger and then act like it was fine—” Gon freezes. His breathing stutters, and the room feels cold. “I didn’t want to say that.”

“Okay,” Killua says. “Okay, I’ll talk instead. That way you won’t have to say anything.” He just needs to fill the space with whatever he can think of, stalling until his brain catches up with everything Gon just said. “You can cover your mouth.”

Gon does that.

Killua turns his body towards him. “I’m going to stay with you. And I can protect you—I want to do it, actually, that’s why I’m here. We’re together right now, and I think we both know what that means. It means that we’ll watch each other’s backs, like how you saved me and Alluka. You can’t think of yourself as useless without Nen, because you’re not. Obviously.”

Gon’s posture changes, sitting up rather than curling around himself.

Killua continues. His face feels warm. “I know it doesn’t seem like it matters what I think, but it does. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t showed up. And that’s only possible because we weren’t alone! But now I want to help you to not be alone too, because I’m not here just to get your Nen back for you.”

Gon shifts until his hand isn’t covering his mouth, and then speaks; “You don’t need to take care of me.”

“I do,” Killua says immediately. “I mean—fine, it’s not like I have to. But that’s just who I am.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Gon says.

“I thought you were going to keep your mouth covered,” Killua says, nudging Gon with his knee. When Gon listens, Killua continues, “Anyway, I’m here because we’re friends. So if you feel alone then… I want to make sure you’re not alone. Even if,” he swallows, “I guess I could’ve done better. But at least let me stay with you.”

Is this too much? Is this what Gon needs? Killua can never tell; Gon’s expression is unreadable.

Killua continues, “And I’m sorry again for lying about how hurt I was, and trying to deal with fighting alone. I’m going to keep making sure you don’t get yourself killed, you know? But I get it. I mean, I don’t want to be useless to you either.”

He feels really useless right now. He wants to be someone Gon deserves, and he thought this is what that meant. Apparently not.

He takes a breath. “This whole time, while I’ve been trying to do all sorts of things for you, I’ve just wanted to be by your side. That’s the reason I’m here, because I want us to be together, even if it’s not exactly equal.

“And it hurt,” Killua continues, “knowing you were under the effect of some stupid Nen ability that I could deal with but you couldn’t. I wanted us to be the same, in our Nen abilities, and—it was suddenly like I had no control over what happened to you. We were—I don’t know. I don’t know what it was. I just hated that he’d done that to you.”

He shakes his head. Gon’s eyebrows lower.

“But that didn’t matter, because we were away from him, right? We just have to wait it out. I wish I’d known that you would have to be honest to stop it, so that I’d been more careful, but—it’s fine. I don’t want to force you. I wanted you to tell me, but…” he shakes his head. “You wanted to keep it hidden, so it’s whatever.

“Even if I didn’t care about the secrets,” Killua says, looking away from Gon, “I still don’t understand why you started changing so much, just because you might tell me something. But I won’t make you tell me like this. It wouldn’t be right.”

He hesitates for a moment, and in that space they breathe at the same time, something calm in the air. But Killua has to keep talking.

“So I guess I can tell you a little about how I felt. You scared me a little,” Killua says around the lump in his throat. “Especially when you started hurting more, and it felt like it was my fault for being near you. I don’t know how to help you. Just being there was bad for you, but then you didn’t want to be alone, so I was just—lost. Completely lost. Just like always, when it comes to you, because I’ve never been able to help you in the way you needed me to. So now, the only thing I can think about is getting rid of the ability for good, and even then, it’s not something we can do. At least not the way we are now.”

He sucks in a shaking breath. All his feelings are out in the open, all his pain watching Gon suffer. Killua has been agonizing over this for so long.

It doesn’t hurt like an open wound. He had expected it to feel worse.

Instead, it feels like the sting of antiseptic. His worry is Gon’s own, his pain is the bridge between them right now. Gon won’t share his own thoughts, so Killua’s will fill the silence, and maybe that can fill some of the gap between them.

“I wanted to be able to do more for you, this time. If I were forced to tell the truth…” Killua closes his eyes. “I guess I’d say that I’m sorry. I thought I was ready to be with you again, not hurt you because I try too hard. I still want to help you get your Nen back, and I still want to travel with you, but… I thought I was prepared.”

Gon moves. He leans forward, and sucks in a breath. He drops his hand before Killua can think to expect it. “Prepared for what?” Gon sounds genuinely confused. “You’re not hurting me. It’s the kidnappers who hurt me, and we’ve dealt with worse than that.”

Killua hates the rush of relief he feels; Gon isn’t upset that Killua has been handling this badly, unable to read any deeper than what he wants them to be. The version of Gon in Killua’s childish mind—the boy who saved him, who keeps saving him, who will always be there for him—he’s someone who would forgive Killua no matter what, too. Killua just doesn’t want to believe that that’s all Gon will ever be, especially when Gon has been hiding something.

And for that reason, Killua needs to be clear with Gon. There is no ideal, optimistic Gon—there’s only the two of them as they are.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What is it?”

“I wasn’t prepared,” Killua pauses, then forces himself to continue, “to be close to you again. I wanted to come back to you when we were apart, but it all happened so fast. I didn’t have a chance to think about it. I wanted to be near you, but I didn’t want us to fall back into old habits. Sorry.”

He would’ve given everything up for Gon, and he still would. He doesn’t know how to say that, because he knows that Gon doesn’t want that for him. How can he confess that?

Even now, he doesn’t know how to be close to Gon without this; hiding things, waiting for Gon to speak.

“I…” Gon blinks at Killua. “I think I was ready to stay with you, to be friends again from the start. I thought maybe after Nanika saved me, you didn’t want to be friends the same way, but I told myself we could be different, and eventually I was ready to try. I didn’t know it wasn’t the same for you until later.”

Killua wants to know when later was. Did Gon pick up on how desperate Killua was to stay with him, from the moment they reunited until the truth Nen?

Does Gon even know why Killua left?

“I mean,” Killua looks away. “I was mostly leaving for Alluka and Nanika, because they needed me. I needed to protect them from my family, and go all over the world and give them a new life. It wasn’t about you.”

Even though the hurt they were left with was too large, Killua had always known that moving on from Gon was impossible.

Knowing that Gon hadn’t just called Killua for convenience feels good. On nights alone with his sisters, he’d talk about Gon and wonder if Gon was thinking about him on Whale Island. The answer must have been yes.

“I know. I was glad to see how much you love your sisters,” Gon says, a loose thought. “So I thought you knew. I thought you knew how important you are, and how much I wanted to be with you, and travel again, and I was glad you were okay with leaving your sisters for a little, even if it was temporary… You do make me feel less alone, I’m just being an idiot.”

“You don’t need to make it a big deal.” Killua’s face goes warm. “I mean, I wasn’t prepared, but I was trying to be. Because I didn’t want to leave again, and it felt impossible that it wouldn’t happen eventually.”

“It’s not impossible,” Gon says.

Everything Killua wants is right in front of him.

“You should know, though,” Killua says even though the nerves are tangled in his chest, even though his face feels warm, “I still want to be friends with you, and I always will. Even after everything. If I ever made you think I didn’t, you were wrong.”

He doesn’t look at Gon while speaking. There’s a space of silence—the silence that tells Killua that Gon is gathering his thoughts before the truth Nen pushes them out into the space between them.

“I need you with me, Killua,” Gon blurts; Killua feels the echo of the words in the center of his ribcage, fast-beating. “You know, I thought about how much I wanted you to keep traveling with me way before we reunited, but I never told you very well. And then you left, and it was hard.”

“How long?” Killua asks. There’s a quick, fleeting feeling of guilt for asking, but it leaves just as fast.

“Um.” Gon’s eyebrows scrunched up while he thinks. “I don’t know. Heaven’s Arena, Yorknew, everywhere. I think it’s always been like that in the back of my mind? But I thought it was obvious, because I wanted you with me. You were really cool and could’ve gone anywhere you wanted, but you came with me. It’s like—why would I need to tell you to have my back? You already did.”

Killua watches the curve of Gon’s growing smile while he speaks. He thinks—I knew, but I also didn’t know. You already told me back then that we were best friends, and that was enough.

“That’s not fair,” Killua says. He speaks softly because otherwise he doesn’t know what he’ll say; it hurts that Gon is telling him this now, and he doesn’t know how to convey any of it. “It was a lot more complicated than that.”

“I know.”

“Well,” Killua says, “I don’t regret any of it. But I also knew by the time you met Ging that it wasn’t right, I guess. We were all wrong about what friendship was supposed to be like.”

Gon’s eyes drop. “Is it all wrong now? Please tell me that it’s not wrong. I don’t want it to be wrong.” He smiles wider again, but it looks sad. There’s a past between them that neither of them have talked about, that aches like a wound that’s almost healed. “I sound kind of dumb speaking the truth right now, huh.”

“The truth Nen doesn’t change that at all,” Killua huffs. “But, no, it’s fine.” He swallows, collecting himself. “I need you too, Gon. Probably more than you ever needed me.”

It’s something he’s always thought, a repeated need to be able to stay with Gon. It grew in between moments where Gon really, truly did need Killua there—to watch his back, and to be his hands, and most of all to stop him from going too far and burning out the light that Killua treasures. Killua started out wanting to find something important to him, but that something was by his side from the start.

“We both needed each other,” Gon says instantly. “It’s not true that you needed me more, because I can’t even imagine what it would’ve been like without you. A lot worse, obviously, but—I would be dead, Killua.” Gon lowers his head, sucking in a sharp breath. The air between them suddenly feels stagnant, waiting for something to release. “You saved my life all the time.”

And Gon saved Killua’s, but he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know about the torture room at the Zoldyck mansion, and how it felt to hear that Gon—and Kurapika, and Leorio—were there for him.

“That’s not really what I meant,” Killua says, unsure how to say it.

“It’s not what I meant either!” Gon rubs at his eyes. “I don’t—I don’t mean to say those things! I’m just bringing up the worst things that happened to us because I can’t stop thinking about it—it’s what I thought about during the time we were apart, because being with you was the best part of my life, and it was really important to me. So I’m just so worried—worried that I’m going to lose you again, or—” Gon covers his mouth, and when he looks at Killua his eyes are watery.

There’s something thick in Killua’s throat.

“You’re not going to lose me,” Killua says. “I’m not going to let that happen. I know you can’t see it like I do, but I don’t want to leave you, I keep telling you. You don’t have to tell me anything. We can keep waiting for this Nen ability to go away.”

Gon keeps his mouth covered, nodding slowly.

“I don’t want to keep thinking about these things,” Killua says carefully, slowly. “While you were thinking about it, I was avoiding it, I guess. And now it’s hard because of me, because I keep trying to talk about it when you can’t handle it.”

Gon’s hand drops. “Stop.” He leans forward. “That’s not it! Killua, I—I just don’t want to tell you my thoughts! That’s all this is!”

Guilt spirals in Killua’s stomach. “I know.”

“Please keep talking to me.” Gon reaches out and touches Killua’s shoulder, heavy against him, the weight of their shared universe. “I don’t want to say anything, but I want you to keep talking. Whatever you need to say, Killua. Or want to say. If it’s about back then, or right now.”

Gon seems so scared still. There’s water clinging to Gon’s eyelashes, the first traces of frustrated tears. Killua has watched Gon cry before, but never, ever in a situation where he could do something about it.

Killua swallows around a lump in his throat. He hates seeing Gon in pain.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Killua says. “I don’t want to hurt you. But,” he says. “We can talk about it after the truth Nen is gone. But I just—” He cuts himself off. How can he even explain to Gon how little he wants to leave him? “You shouldn’t have to say anything, but I can. I mean, since it’ll stop you from saying anything.”

Gon nods slowly. “That sounds good, Killua. I’m sorry that you have to say so much, because of me.”

Killua shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I mean,” he looks down at his hands, pulled into his lap. “You were really important to me. Fighting my family, and even just being my friend even though I was an assassin. I could’ve killed anyone, and I thought you wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like that. Right from the start, you were my best friend, and I needed you more than you can imagine.”

He takes a breath, gauging Gon’s expression.

“And that’s still true, and it always will be. Because I love you,” Killua says. It’s not quite like the truth Nen—not forced from his lungs. For the first time, Killua chooses to say it, even though he’s terrified.

Gon’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, but he doesn’t say anything.

Killua’s face is hot, bright red. He wants to bury his face in his hands, but he settles for just turning his face away from Gon, not wanting him to see how stupidly, pathetically in love Killua is. He clears his throat. “I don’t want you to say it back. I’d rather you just—” he closes his eyes, half-muffling his words with his hand, “—Just forget about it for now.”

It’s not the right time—Gon is scared and Killua shouldn’t have confessed at a time like this, knees pressed together on Gon’s bed, trying to calm him down.

Killua ignores the pressure. He has to keep talking.

“Reuniting with you was everything I wanted. But I had so many feelings.” Killua presses the back of his hand against his eyes, and then drops it, opening his eyes to properly look at Gon again. “You hurt me back then, but I forgive you. I’ve always forgiven you.”

Gon’s expression is unreadable. But it’s not anger, or pain—it’s something more open.

Killua bites his lip. “I don’t regret it,” he says. “I don’t know what I could’ve changed to stop this, but if being by your side is the reason we’re stuck going in circles, I still don’t think I can regret it. I wanted this, Gon.” He smiles a wobbling smile.

Gon opens his mouth. “Killua—”

“Wait,” Killua says, burning up from the inside out. Maybe he should have told Gon earlier, so that he didn’t have to tell Gon to stop right now, when all Killua wants is to hear what Gon is about to say. But at the same time, Killua can’t let him say something he didn’t decide to say. “Can I say something else?”

“I guess,” Gon says. “But I want to say something too. I don’t want to wait.”

Killua doesn’t know what that means, but he doesn’t have time to waste, because if he’s going to say this, he has to keep talking. “I’ve been worried this whole time that once you get your Nen back, we’ll have no reason to stay together. And now that we have the Rose Aura Book, it means we might be close to the end. If that’s the case… I’ll find something else. I’ll do whatever I need to do to be a Hunter my own way. But I never wanted that to mean leaving you. I…” Killua swallows. “I don’t want anything else.”

He doesn’t know what else to say. He stares into Gon’s eyes for a second, facing Gon head on with his feelings bare, and his stomach clenches with anxiety.

“Sorry, I—” Killua says. “I guess that has nothing to do with what you said, or—”

“I love you too!” Gon interrupts.

Killua chokes. “Wha—what?” Killua feels the breath get knocked out of his body. He waits for the other half of this—whatever will cause Gon to say he loves Killua as a friend, or that the truth Nen is gone and he wanted to tell a lie, or—something. He doesn’t know.

They stare at each other for a second too long. The truth hits Killua at the same time as Gon’s voice begins to fill the space.

“You confessed first,” Gon says. He sounds caught off guard, just like Killua. There’s the chipped armor, honesty laid down between them. “I thought I would say it first. I thought I had no choice but to say it, eventually, if it would mean the Nen ability going away.” His hand clenches on his arm over the now-healed gash they’d used to put the Nen into him.

Killua’s heart clenches. “You,” he starts, and feels stupid as he speaks, “like me.”

“I love you,” Gon corrects.

He tells himself it’s just the truth telling again. That this ease and shamelessness is normal Gon, simply uncovered in his words a little more because of an ability neither of them can control. It doesn’t stop Killua’s heart from jumping.

“Oh,” Killua says dumbly. He goes to say something, but finds no words. “Oh.”

“That was a lot.” Gon is smiling, fiddling with his hands. “I don’t want to scare you off by being too much. Because you’re embarrassed, and you don’t want me to say stuff like that.”

“No!” Killua ducks his head, hoping that hides his face. “It’s just unexpected. I don’t know. You can say it, but you—you’re—I mean—” He’s mortified. He takes a breath, trying to calm down his racing heart. “I didn’t think you liked me back,” he admits.

Gon laughs a startled laugh. “That’s what I thought! I didn’t think you liked me!”

“Well it’s not true,” Killua says. “I’ve—it’s been a long time since it started.”

“How long?” Gon asks.

Killua doesn’t know how long—he’d noticed it one day, deep into their travels together, before the ants but after they’d gone to Gon’s home. It had been a feeling unlike any other, and he knew that it was only for Gon—would only ever be for Gon, maybe, because nobody else will ever reach for Killua’s heart the way Gon had.

Even if he falls for someone else, Gon is Killua’s first love. That’s the truth.

“Not telling!” Killua huffs. This is familiar, the back and forth, the love and friendship mixing together into something that fits them perfectly. Killua would’ve been happy with nothing more than Gon saying he cared for Killua, but not in the same way. This is too big to put into words, too much to say to Gon’s face, at least for now.

“Aw,” Gon smiles. “I’ve loved you for a long time too, though! A really long time. And being away from you only made me more sure.”

“Oh, I…” Killua wishes it was that easy. Wishes that he could forget about the feelings he just unwound in front of Gon. “It took me so long to say something,” he says. “When I said I wasn’t ready, I almost meant… this.”

“Um. Does that mean you don’t want to date me?”

“No!” He’s scattered, like all his thoughts are out of order. “I’m just worried that I can’t handle it. Or, I was. Of course I want to date you, but I just thought about everything for a long, long time, and I didn’t know it would mean I would confess.” He’s making a mistake. He doesn’t want to push Gon away, not right now. “I want to be with you,” he says, heart beating in his ears. “I really, really want to.”

“Oh, good,” Gon sighs. “I thought you’d say you needed time to think about it. But if you did that, then I’d say something really dumb and mess this up.”

Killua laughs softly. “You know, there’s no way you could mess this up. You’re shameless, but I don’t care.” He gives Gon a smile that feels too shy, but there’s a brightness inside Killua’s chest that’s threatening to burst out. This is love—requited, certain, and real.

It’s a lot to handle. Killua doesn’t know if he’ll be able to, but he wants to try.

He’s always held onto Gon—no matter how bright, no matter how much it hurts. But things shift. Killua can step back and look at Gon, at how much he loves him, and decide that this is what he wants. He knows it with a surety he never expected he’d have.

Gon’s eyes shine. “I’m really, really happy. And so lucky.”

“I am too,” Killua breathes. “I said it because I meant it, but I wasn’t expecting you to love me back. Are you sure you want to, you know, date me? It’ll change everything.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Gon says. “I want things to be a little different, though—because… I still didn’t get to say it before today. How important you are. I need you. And through all of this, the only reason I haven’t been alone is because of you. We’re part of this together, and I want that to keep being true.”

Killua’s heart swells. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m here because of you, and I hope you’re here because of me, too.”

“Of course I’m here because of you.” Killua’s face feels like it’s on fire. “Does that mean that you want to stick together, even after you get your Nen back?”

“Yeah. If you want that, I want that. I feel safe with you,” Gon says. “I have for a really long time. Because you were always by my side, and always what I needed, and even if you can’t be exactly what I need I’ll be okay. Sometimes I go too fast and sometimes I’m not strong enough, and at least when you’re here I know that I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

“That’s cheesy,” Killua replies.

“You make me feel like saying dumb stuff,” Gon says. “Because I love you.”

It’s the only truth Killua knows; after all the pain they’ve gone through, after speaking all these feelings out loud, the real reason they’ve struggled so hard to avoid saying the wrong thing is this:

Killua hesitates because it’s embarrassing, but he smiles as he says it; “I love you too.”

Chapter Text

There’s a loud thud from the other room. Killua—not completely off the edge he’s been on since they were kidnapped, even though it’s been two days since he and Gon had their heart to heart—immediately gets to his feet, standing in the middle of the rented house’s living room. He relaxes when he sees that it’s just Gon, running headfirst into the room with Alluka trailing after him, wearing matching grins.

“Killua!” Gon runs towards him and grabs him by the shoulders, practically vibrating with positive energy. Right now, like a lot of times, Killua feels like he needs to avert his eyes from just how much he’s glowing with happiness.

At one time, Killua had felt like he wasn’t able to be part of that happiness. Not now, though. It hasn’t been that way for a very long time; Killua is done feeling like things will end between them.

“What is it?”

“The truth Nen is gone!” Gon’s grin grows impossibly wider. “I was with Alluka, and I expected to say what I was thinking, but then I didn’t—!”

“You should’ve seen the look on his face,” Alluka adds.

“Whoa!” Hope fills Killua’s chest—suddenly he’s energized, all his worries turning into adoration, all the things that have happened since they got kidnapped dissipating back into what they were before. “It actually happened? Finally!”

“It finally, actually happened!” Gon pumps his fist and laughs.

“It didn’t take that long,” Killua says. “I thought we’d still have to wait it out.” He wonders if Gon’s confession, and all that’s happened since then has changed something—somehow, Gon is free. Somehow, they face each other. “Does it feel much different?”

Gon grins. “A little!” After a pause he laughs softly to himself again, like he has an inside joke with himself. “I was just talking to Alluka, and I didn’t feel different, but I knew as soon as she stopped talking that this time I’d be able to speak whatever I wanted.” He turns his grin to Alluka. “We tested it.”

Alluka shifts her weight excitedly. “Just a little. And then we had to tell you.”

Killua’s relief shakes in his lungs. “So you can just say anything now?”

“I’m not going to be that much different. But yeah! I can! Killua,” Gon starts, “you were a really good friend while I was being weird. And now we’re all good.” His expression is soft.

“That’s not any different, you’re right,” Killua grins, his heart beating faster. “Is there anything you want to do now? Let’s go somewhere.” It’s not different from anything he’d say before either, but it’s embarrassing, especially in front of Alluka. Now that he knows Gon loves him—loves him the same way Killua loves Gon—there’s something new opened up between them, something exciting.

“Oh!” Gon’s eyes widen. “Of course!”

“I have to do my Ten and Ren again,” Alluka says. “But you two have fun!”

“Thanks,” Killua says, while Gon laughs softly to himself.

As she leaves, Killua thinks that she looks lighter, too. Colorful bandaids still litter her elbows, but other than that, he hadn’t thought much about the weight on her; she’s always been good at smiling through it. Same with Gon—or at least, same with how Gon usually would be, if that latest attack hadn’t struck them to the core.

Yeah, after all that they deserve a break.

“Want to see the view from the roof?” Killua asks. “The first day we came here we climbed up there, but we never did it since then.”

“Oh yeah,” Gon’s eyes widen. “I guess we didn’t.”

They climb onto the roof through the window and stand next to each other on the uneven, grey sloped shingles. The sun is high but the sky is dotted with clouds, and Gon is silent in a way that makes Killua want to fill it in—he doesn’t. The silence is filled instead by the shuffling of their feet until they sit. Gon was able to sit still for hours if he had something to focus on, and it feels familiar now.

After a pause: “I wish I’d spent more time here than in my room,” Gon smiles, bittersweet.

“We can leave this place soon,” Killua offers. “That was always the plan, but it’ll be good to go somewhere we’ve never been. Somewhere those kidnappers will never find us.” This place is nice enough, but it’s different after staying here for a while, searching for something that doesn’t even have the answers they want.

“Yeah,” Gon says, and leans back—Killua watches the slope of his cheeks, face lifted toward the sky. “Let’s look for all the things the book mentioned, and get my Nen back!”

“Do you want to talk about the book now?” Killua asks. It’s not like they haven’t talked about it—Killua has read most of it by now, he asked Gon if he had any thoughts on particular parts—but the two of them had always been careful, stepping around the issue, never talking too deeply.

Gon smiles and shrugs. “What is there to talk about?”

Killua rests his elbow on his leg, turning toward Gon. “I mean, it doesn’t say how to get your Nen back, and that’s the whole reason we went through all that. I don’t mind that we have to keep looking, but do you?”

Killua won’t admit it, but he’s been worried ever since he read it. That Gon had been right—some of it might be worthwhile, but as a whole it won’t just bring back Gon’s Nen. It’s the disappointing truth—but one he hasn’t been able to ask Gon about, worried that Gon will want to hide his feelings and Killua will be pushing too far.

They both knew already, and Gon realized it before Killua did.

“I mean… I’m sad,” Gon says softly. “I won’t lie and say I’m not. But it didn’t bother me as much as I expected when I was at home, so it shouldn’t bother me now.”

“Is it that easy?” Killua asks.

“I think so,” Gon says. “It’s not like there was nothing there. There was that map for places with high concentrations of Nen weirdness—it’s been a long time since the book was written, but maybe there’s something there. We can at least look.”

Killua hums, smiling. “And that list of Nen contract types.”

“And the origin of Nen after death theory, and a list of where to find more stuff about magical beasts with Nen. I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Gon’s sadness seems to be washed away, the color returned to him. Any bittersweetness clinging to his expression has vanished, and Killua’s heart gets stuck on the happiness left behind as Gon meets his eyes. “If I’m upset, I’ll tell you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Gon says. “You know, this whole thing with the truth Nen, it was awful. I felt like I was losing control of everything. So now that we’re okay again, I just want things to be right between us.”

Things have felt right ever since they talked through everything—honesty had left things easy, words flowing between them because they knew they had less to hide. Gon had been optimistic, and just like always Killua felt himself glow with optimism beside Gon.

“Things are right,” Killua says. “And it’ll stay that way. Things aren’t going wrong that easily, not with the way we are now.”

Gon grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll get through every single Nen user we come across.” And most importantly, they’ll stay together. Whatever rift was caused by the ants that hadn’t been fixed by their reunion, it’s slowly getting healed here and now. That’s how Killua feels, looking into Gon’s eyes.

After all, Gon just said that he’d tell Killua if he’s upset. That’s enough.

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Gon sighs loudly. “I can finally think whatever I want! I don’t have to be careful anymore!” It’s almost funny—Gon has always been impulsive and says what’s on his mind. Maybe Gon isn’t always honest, but he’s still one of the most honest people Killua has ever known; Killua likes that about him, now and forever.

“You can finally lie again,” Killua teases.

Gon’s lips quirk upward. “I’m not going to lie to you. I never wanted to lie, ever.” He looks so happy, though—even if he never lied, there’s a pause in the conversation that goes unfilled, a finally companionable silence without the heavy stress that came with it before.

“I know,” Killua says. “But still, congrats. Tell me a lie?”

Gon hums and sits there, thinking. A giant grin spreads slowly across his face. “Hey, Killua. I hate you. And you’re really stupid and not cool and smart at all.”

“Hey—!” Killua yelps. “That’s not fair!”

“You told me to lie!”

“No compliments allowed!” But Killua is grinning. He can’t help it. He just loves Gon so much, even when the two of them push each other like idiots over Gon calling Killua stupid as a lie. Affection swells in Killua’s chest, an unstoppable feeling.

There was never any need to worry after all.

That night is easier. Killua talks to Gon in front of their rooms, as has become habit, and this time Gon isn’t quietly telling Killua that he still loves him because that’s what’s in his thoughts. Gon still reaches out a hand, stopping him and smiling, and says it just once before they part. Killua breathes in, and echoes it back. Gon’s hand is warm against his.

The lessened embarrassment since Gon has stopped repeating it makes it easier to hide his blush when he comes back to his room, where he flops down beside Alluka with a sigh.

“So,” he says with an uncontained smile. “We know what Gon and I are up to next, but what about you? I mean, you came pretty suddenly, so I don’t know if you have more you want to do.”

“I have an airship ticket to go back to Mr. Wing’s place!” Alluka says. Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “But after that, I want to read books about Nen! I want to know how it works! Since the Rose Aura Book wasn’t exactly what you were looking for, I can come get it from you to read myself, and then, maybe,” she says softly, sweetly, “you can come with me looking for more? I don’t want it to just be me and Nanika.”

Killua’s heart fills with warmth. “Of course I’ll come with you. I’d love to.”

“I don’t know how long it’ll take, so Gon can have you until then,” Alluka says. “My ticket is for tomorrow afternoon. Sorry it’s so soon, but… Mr. Wing probably didn’t think I’d be gone for so long. I told him I’d get back as soon as I could.”

“Yeah, well, he’ll be surprised to hear you got into trouble, too.” Killua huffs out a laugh, though. Sitting up, he wraps his arm around Alluka’s shoulder and squeezes her. “Stay safe while we’re apart.”

“You too, Brother,” she says seriously when he lets go. Her face softens into a smile. “Gon told me about the confession, you know. It was on his mind a lot, so he told me all about it before the truth Nen wore off. I’m happy for you! Both of you!” She grins. “I don’t think Nanika knows yet, so you can tell her.”

Killua’s face gets warm. “That’s so—” he covers his face with his hand. Embarrassing. Gon was talking about him to his sister. It’s not like he could hide it, but Killua wishes it hadn’t happened. “I should’ve known. I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

“Which is why you get to tell Nanika!” Alluka says again. “She’s asleep right now, but I just know she’ll be really excited about it!”

Killua wants that. He wants his sisters to be happy for him, to know about what he’s doing; secrecy with them is no good, and being able to share something good with them instead of the dreary news that came with the truth Nen is important.

“Do you mean right now?” he asks.

Alluka nods. “You should. Otherwise she might find out like me.” She tilts her head with a curious smile. “Is it okay to tell her now? If she keeps sleeping, you can tell her later.”

Killua steels himself against his nerves. “Well, I don’t want to keep her in the dark. That’s just not fair.”

“Alright!” Alluka shifts to sit turned toward Killua, tucking her skirt under her legs again. She pauses, smiling at him again. “You seem really happy, by the way, Brother. That’s why I’m happy for you.”

It’s true that he’s relaxed and happy now, but he shakes his head in mock-exasperation anyway. Alluka’s smile widens, and then she properly closes her eyes, and Killua calls for Nanika.

“Nanika,” he says softly when she opens her eyes. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Nanika shakes her head. Her beads swoosh from side to side with the motion. “Hi, Killua!”

“Hi,” he says. She already knows about going back to stay with Wing, he’s sure—Alluka wouldn’t get a ticket without Nanika. “Alluka just told me you’re going back to stay with Wing for a while. And I have something to tell you, too.”

Nanika nods. “Tell me?”

It suddenly feels like a big thing—he’s right at the moment when one of the most important people in his life will tell him what she thinks about him being with Gon—even if there’s nothing to fear, it’s a big ask when Killua isn’t even sure he could’ve voiced any of the ways he loved Gon to his sisters until now.

Nanika probably has an idea that Gon is important to him, though.

“Gon and I are… together now. Romantically.” Killua might die from embarrassment, but he also can’t stop himself from grinning. The idea that this is real is so exciting that he can’t help it. “So we’re going to stay together for a long time now.”

Nanika’s dark eyes widen. “Wow,” she says breathily. “Killua with Gon. You love him.”

“Yeah. I’m really happy. And,” Killua says, “Alluka asked me to come with you two when you finish with Wing, and I said yes. Gon might come too, I guess we’ll figure it out when the time comes—but I promise, we’ll all have a lot more fun together. How do you feel about that?”

He loves Nanika. She’s expressive but still not very good at speaking her feelings out loud. For that reason, he’s happy to ask her, always.

“Happy,” she says, smiling. “Really really happy. I want to travel with Killua again!”

“I’m excited too,” Killua says softly. It’s true; he’s missed his sisters. He hopes that they can be safe next time. He puts his hand on her head and she falls forward to hug him. “Are you sure you want to go traveling on an actual mission instead of just to see places, though?”

“Alluka likes learning,” Nanika says. She nestles her face against Killua’s shoulder. “She’s happy. She wants to see the whole world.”

“How about you? Do you want to see the world?”

“I want to go with Alluka,” Nanika says. “She makes me happy. I love Alluka.”

Killua pats her head. “You’re both so special to me. My precious sisters,” he says softly. “Remember to call me whenever you need me to praise you, and have fun. I love you.”

“I love Killua,” Nanika says.

Killua will never be able to be the boy he would’ve been if he’d been born someone else, not an assassin at all. But right now, he can help his sisters be something different from what they started from. No matter what happens, he will protect them as long as he can.

When they want to live their lives apart from him for a while he will hug them, call them, and wave off their airship.

At the airport, Alluka squeezes him so tightly his ribs ache, and he can’t bring himself to be mad at all.

Gon is by his side, and he takes his turn giving her a more gentle hug. “It was good to see you,” he says. “Next time, we should do more things than stay inside! Now that we can, I mean.”

Since the truth Nen is gone now, next time they hang out they’ll be able to do so much more together—and not be in danger while they do it. They can travel again, and see new places, and the world will be kinder again.

That kind of future feels good, Killua thinks.

Everything is settled. The house they were staying in is emptied of their things, the Rose Aura Book tucked deep in Killua’s backpack. They’d promised to find a place to put it for safekeeping once they’re done with it, until Alluka comes back to look through it again once she knows more; for now the two of them are hanging onto it.

“I’m really not upset,” Gon says, checking his backpack for their train tickets. “Even if it’s not going to immediately get my Nen back, it’s already helping, and that’s what matters. Honestly, it would be kinda boring if it was as easy as getting the book just like that.”

Killua huffs out a laugh. “That’s just like you.” But he feels calm, outside with the breeze on his face, closing his eyes.

“And also,” Gon slings his backpack over his shoulder again, and when Killua opens his eyes he’s grinning and holding up two matching tickets, “I get to be with you! We get to keep going all over the world, looking for something out there to help me. I’m so excited!”

Killua wills his face to not go red. “Well obviously we’d be together even if you did get your Nen back, idiot.”

“I know!” Gon glows with joy. They’d promised each other; and if they ever want to leave each other for a while, they’ll figure that out too.

“Well,” Killua says, pausing as the air between them stills for a second. When they were together the first time, Killua never said it properly, always deflecting. “I really like traveling with you, Gon. You’re my best friend.”

The world moves so fast sometimes, but it feels like it’s in slow motion right now. They stand staring each other in the face as the sun hits Gon’s spiky hair just right to see the undertone of green under the black.

“You’re my best friend too,” Gon says. “You always will be.”

Killua’s heart sings with affection. “Let’s catch our train.” He tentatively holds out his hand; Gon grips it firmly and Killua squeezes back. It’s a connection, a continuation, and Killua’s whole world.