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Mito was sick. Nobody knew how much longer she’d last but everyone knew she couldn’t keep this up much longer. Secretly everyone blamed Ging, for running off and having a child, before dumping said child onto a young Mito’s shoulders.
“It must be the stress,” they’d mutter, “Poor Mito was so young. If Ging ever shows his face here again I’ll ring his neck.”
Raising a child– especially one as rambunctious as Gon– was no easy task, especially for Mito, who had only been fifteen when Ging had dropped him on her.
Gon, for one, hated how everyone in their small port town talked about Mito as if she was already dead. He hated how everyone blamed his father, when in reality, it was simply nature taking its course. Tragically, it would soon be Mito’s time to go. Things lived and died, that was just the way it worked.
Gon was already a sort of anomaly in their small town. There was never any record of his mother, he lacked a birth certificate (at least until Mito applied for one) and he was much too rambunctious, even for a ten year old.
Everyone always told him he was the spitting image of his father, in both looks and personality. They were so similar, that people often thought Ging had cloned himself. The only difference was in Gon's superhuman strength and speed, and in his unending kindness, which, from what the townspeople tell him, were two things Ging never had, even in his wildest dreams.
(Sometimes, when people thought Gon couldn’t hear them he’d hear words like ‘magic’ and ‘fae’ used to describe him. On the occasion, he’d even hear the word ‘halfling’ thrown about like it was something wrong with him.
“Don’t worry about what those people say,” Mito had told him when Gon spoke up about it, “You know how the elderly like to gossip. None of it is true, you’re as human as can be.”
He still heard those rumors from time to time, from people young and old alike, and sometimes, he questioned his aunt’s words.)
“You know the fae can sap someone’s life away,” he heard an elderly woman say.
A younger man looked quickly in Gon’s direction to make sure he was out of earshot, forgetting, as most people did, about his impeccable hearing.
“Mom!” he hissed through his teeth, “You can’t possibly be blaming the boy for this!”
“I’m just saying,” the woman too, lowered her voice, “Remember what happened to his great grandmother?”
Gon had seen pictures of his great grandmother, but he didn’t remember her. He didn’t need to, he’d heard plenty about her from his aunt and the townspeople. Abe had been a sweet old lady who smelled like peppermint candies and always had treats on her for the kids of Whale Island. Abe had been ninety-nine when she’d died mysteriously, only a month after she and Mito had taken Gon in.
“Ms. Abe was old,” the young man protested, “and besides, Gon isn’t one of them.”
The old lady scoffed, “That’s what Mito says, but that boy can run circles around anyone in this village, and don’t get me started on his strength.”
“He’s ten mom! And even if he was fae, it wouldn’t make him responsible for Mito’s condition, sometimes people just get sick.”
“You may be right, but I know there are some cases of those types sapping some poor fool’s life away.”
“That’s only in the case of contracts, mom, and Gon hasn’t made any of those types of deals with anyone.”
Deciding he’d heard enough, Gon left the arguing mother and son to their own devices, heading instead to the tavern where Mito worked, where, against her doctor’s wishes, she was still working.
He counted his steps along the cobbled stones of the road as he crossed, being sure to avoid stepping on any cracks. He didn’t want Mito to suffer anymore than she already was. He made it to the tavern on his seventy-eighth step, leaping onto the welcome mat. Oddly enough, the tavern was closed. The lights were off and all was still, so after ensuring the door was properly locked, Gon took seven additional steps to reach the entrance to his home.
When he entered, Mito was silently waiting for him. Bloody tissues formed a small puddle around her, and Gon knew they would only increase in number until the young woman was drowning in a sea of red and white.
She motioned for him to sit, too pale hands trembling as if she was holding a burden much too heavy for her. In a way she was, and had been since she was fifteen.
In that moment Gon found all of the townspeople's rumors more ridiculous than ever. If he truly were fae, Gon would have healed Mito already.
He sat next to her, moving the bloodied tissues out of his way.
“The tavern’s closed today,” he said, “Are you finally getting some rest?”
Mito gave a sad smile, “Not even all the rest in the world can save me now, Gon. I’m going to die soon, whether the tavern stays open or closed.”
Gon knew that, he really did, but it still hurt to hear. “So then, why is the tavern closed?”
“I’m dying Gon,” said the young woman of only twenty-five, “and there won’t be anyone here to take care of you once I’m gone. I don’t want you to have to see me like this, so, I’m going to send you away.”
Gon’s eyes widened, “Away? But where would I go?”
Mito handed him a letter, sealed with a glittery star sticker. “Your father gave me this when he entrusted you to me. He told me to give it to you when the time came. I’m not exactly sure what’s in it, but I suspect it’s a clue on where to find him.”
Mito had known Ging better than anyone else, and so Gon wholeheartedly believed there was a clue on his fathers whereabouts in that letter.
“You don’t have to find him, stars know I wouldn’t. Just see the world, go somewhere, anywhere but here.”
She handed him a separate letter, one sealed with a heart.
“I’ve put all of the money I could into this envelope. I won’t be needing it anymore, but it should at least be enough to get you started. There’s a train station across the river, that should be a good place to start.”
Exactly one week later, Gon found himself at the train station across the river, with two envelopes– one sealed with starlight, the other with love– and he had no idea where he was going.
After staring at the list of destinations for a while he asked, “Do I really need a destination? Can’t I just ride?”
The ticket clerk shrugged. “If you just want a ride, then buy the cheapest ticket.” He leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Between you and me, nobody actually checks the destination on your ticket, they don’t care where you get off.”
The train was on its third stop, when he appeared. He had white hair and electric blue eyes and looked so ethereal that to Gon, he couldn’t be anything but fae. He took a look around the nearly empty compartment and chose the seat right next to him.
He decided to introduce himself. “Hi! I’m Gon. What’s your name?”
He looked at him with those unnaturally blue eyes of his and scoffed. “Don’t you know better than to give out your name? For all you know I could be a trickster spirit or something.”
“My name is Killua.” he said after a pause.
Gon beamed. “If it was so dangerous, then why’d you tell me yours? Besides, it’s only dangerous when you give out your full name isn’t it?”
“I didn’t give you my true name, idiot! But you’re right, it’s only bad if you give out your full name.”
Only the fae had true names– well Gon supposed everyone had a true name but the fae were the only ones who were given a second name at birth.
Silence fell over the train car for a few painful seconds before Gon decided to fill it with something.
“So where are you going?”
“Nowhere. Everywhere. Anywhere but here.”
Gon smiled. “What a coincidence, that’s where I’m going too!”
Killua looked over at him, “So why’d you leave?”
“My aunt’s sick and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to take care of me anymore, so she gave me a bunch of money and told me to go anywhere I wanted, but I don’t really know where I want to go,” he said. “How about you?”
“I ran away from home, but I didn’t actually think very far ahead,” he smiled slightly, looking away from Gon. “I was so ready to get out of that house, I didn’t really think about where I’d go.”
Gon looked at him for a moment. “Do you ever miss anything? About your house I mean?”
Killua stared straight ahead, “Not really. I mean, I miss my younger siblings, and I’m upset I couldn’t bring them with me, but beyond that… I mean I guess… We have this hellhound, his name is Mike, and sometimes, I’d ride him around the estate, so… I guess I miss that sometimes.”
“What’s a hellhound?” Gon asked.
Killua looked blankly at him before bursting into laughter, “You don’t know anything about fae do you?”
Gon thought that was kinda mean, it wasn’t his fault he grew up in a small seaside town where the locals had an aversion to all things magical. Besides, he knew some things about fae. Just the basics, nothing special.
“A hellhound is like a really big dog, with horns. They’re a subcategory of demons.”
Gon smiled, “Oh, so like a tiefling!”
Killua frowned, “I guess, but I think tieflings are more closely related to humans, like elves are. Anyway, do you miss home?”
Gon thought of the two envelopes in his bag. “Honestly, not really. I mean I miss my Aunt, and there was this forest spirit I used to play with so I miss him too, but other than that, there wasn’t really anything there to miss.”
Killua nodded and silence fell over them once more.
This time, Killua was the one to break it. “So, how old are you?”
“Ten years old,” Gon answered.
Killua hummed. “I’m ten too! Well… in fae years anyway. I always forget how that translates in human time.”
Gon smiled. “Fae years, human years, it doesn’t matter. We’re the same age!”
“I mean,” Killua said, “It matters to most humans.”
“Well it doesn’t matter to me! Well… not unless it matters to you.”
“It doesn’t.”
Silence reigned for a final time.
“So… I was thinking,” said Killua, “If neither of us is going anywhere in particular, let’s go nowhere together.”
“I thought we were going everywhere,” Gon said.
“Doesn’t matter. Do you want to stick together from here on out?”
Gon smiled. “Of course.”