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“Killua.”
Voices from the television had been changing rapidly with Killua switching the channels. But upon hearing his name, they stop. “What?”
“Let me check your wounds,” Leorio says, as casually as possible. He knows that there’s going to be a protest, and he’s ready for it. One thing he learns about Killua is that, the more you make a fuss with him, the more he pulls away. So, he’s going to be patient. Let Killua come to him.
He can see the white fluff of Killua’s hair bounce with the turn of his head, a pale hand grasping the back of the couch. His brows are drawn together in confusion. “Why?”
“Because some of your wounds look nasty,” Leorio says. He has already laid all the necessary medical supplies on the dining table next to him, waiting to be used. “So let me treat them, at least.”
Killua snorts. “I’m fine,” he says, before he turns back to face the TV in front of him. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Leorio sighs. “Kid. It won’t hurt to patch you up.”
“I know.” There’s a pause; he’s temporarily distracted. “I just don’t want you to end up wasting your stuff on me.”
What? Leorio frowns. “It’s not wasting if I get to see you less injured.”
“I said, don’t bother, old man,” Killua huffs, tone final, leaning back against the couch. “I heal really fast. They’re all going to be gone in a day or two anyway.”
Ah. This kid’s quite stubborn, Leorio has to give him that. No matter what he says, he refuses to listen. Maybe it would be easier if Gon was here, but unfortunately, he went out with Kurapika somewhere at the first signs of dawn. Well, it seems like Leorio will just have to show him that his own stubbornness is even more.
Wordlessly, Leorio gets up from his chair and strides to the couch Killua’s sitting on. Killua gives him a wary look with the sudden approach, but he doesn’t say anything as the cushions dip under Leorio’s weight, choosing to focus on the TV instead. While he continues to switch channels, Leorio makes it obvious that he’s staring directly at his face.
It takes only a few seconds for Killua to snap. “What are you staring at me for?!”
Another thing Leorio has learned: Killua can get easily flustered when everyone’s attention—the non-negative kind—is on him.
“Nothing,” Leorio answers coolly, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. He crosses his legs and props his chin in his hand. His eyes remain locked onto Killua. “Just staring at your untreated face.”
Killua gives him a murderous look; he had probably sent hundreds to their grave with that look alone. But Leorio refuses to yield. At the end of the day, Killua is still a child. Assassin or no assassin, Leorio will help him. Because he’s hurt, and what’s the point of Leorio aiming to be a doctor if he’s not going to help him?
Eventually, Killua closes his eyes and rubs one hand across his face. “If I let you treat my wounds,” he says, voice terse and coming out muffled, “will you leave me alone?”
Leorio instantly grins. “Of course!”
Killua lets out an exasperated groan, before he slumps on the couch. “Fine. If it makes you happy.”
It does make Leorio happy, so he makes sure to show it through his actions as he almost-excitedly but gently drags Killua to the chair he was sitting earlier. The kid sits quietly as he cleans his wounds, eerily unflinching, closing his eyes occasionally when Leorio gently dabs the cotton with antiseptic near them.
However, the smile on Leorio’s face begins to fade the more injuries he finds. The cut on his forehead. The large bruise on his cheek. The split lip. He finds it hard to believe that a family wouldn’t hesitate to hurt their child like this. What makes it worse is that Killua doesn’t even seem bothered by it in the slightest.
“Does it hurt?” Leorio can’t help but ask, putting a plaster over the cut on his forehead. The wound is small enough that the bandage would suffice.
“No,” Killua answers. He’s distracted again; his eyes are back on the TV.
Leorio’s certain that Killua has a high pain tolerance, most likely from whatever torturous assassin training he had to endure by his family. But he’s still curious whether the kid is really telling the truth when he said it didn’t hurt. So, he decides to (probably) do the most unethical thing for someone who’s aiming to be a medical student.
He lightly pokes the bruise on his cheek.
The reaction is immediate. Killua winces and whips his head to the side, a nerve pulsing through his temple. “Hey!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Leorio quickly says, feeling a little remorseful as he hands him an ice pack. “You said it didn’t hurt.”
Killua rolls his eyes, accepting the ice pack anyway. He tenderly places it over his cheek. “Sorry, doc. I meant to say it didn’t really hurt.”
Judging by how bad it looks: “I beg to differ.”
“I’m the one feeling the pain, not you,” Killua scoffs, his eyes drifting back to the television. Leorio glances at the screen to see what has gotten him so distracted. There seems to be a detective show airing. “Like I said, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
Leorio doesn’t press on the matter. At least it eases him a bit, knowing that Killua doesn’t find it very painful. There’s another thing that bothers him though, and he somewhat expects Killua to ignore his question when he quietly asks, “Do they always do this?”
To his surprise, Killua responds, albeit absentmindedly. “Do what?”
“Hurt you.”
That manages to catch Killua's attention. His eyes flicker to him, and for a split second, Leorio could’ve sworn that his own breath was caught in his throat at the piercing stare.
But then, Killua shrugs, face wholly unbothered. “It’s part of training. We can’t withstand pain if we don’t know it.” However, no matter how nonchalant he sounded, something about his response was careful, as if he had put more thought into it.
But you’re so young, Leorio wants to say. He remembers the words Killua had said to Illumi about wanting to live a normal life during the Hunter Exam. You don’t even want to be an assassin.
“Well, at least it helped me be the person I am today,” Killua continues, as if reading his mind. He gestures at himself with his thumb, looking somewhat proud. “I don’t have to depend on anyone to protect me. If anyone tries anything, I can just break their arm.”
Leorio swallows nervously, deciding to continue tending the kid’s wounds. “Right…”
...How reassuring.
They fall into a comfortable-uncomfortable silence—or maybe it’s just Leorio, since Killua focuses back on the show he’s watching without a second glance. It rubs him the wrong way; the way the kid thinks his family’s training was seemingly okay. He supposes one good thing that comes out of his training was that he can defend himself if he’s in danger. But what’s the point of having parents if they won’t do the protecting?
It’s not fair. Killua should not be fending for himself at this age. He should be loved, free from any injuries that were inflicted to him on purpose. Play outside like any other kid.
Leorio’s thoughts are cut off when he hears someone on the TV talking. It sounds different from the characters that Killua had been listening to, and when he looks up, it’s a movie trailer playing. Killua doesn’t seem to mind that his show was interrupted with an ad. He even looks interested in it.
“Oh, it’s out already,” Leorio says, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
Killua tilts his head to look at him. “You know this movie?”
“Eh, I’ve seen the trailer a few times. It looks scary for a horror movie.”
“Hm. It does look interesting,” Killua says, and of course, he would like a horror movie out of all the movie genres. His eyes twinkle in interest—despite trying to sound casual about it. “Can I watch it here?”
Leorio laughs. “Kid, it’s only out in the cinema today. You might need to wait a bit before it airs on TV.”
“Seriously?” Killua groans, leaning his head back. He presses the ice pack to his cheek again. “Lame.”
“But... we can go watch it if you want?” Leorio offers. They’re not leaving until tomorrow. Kurapika and Gon won’t be back in a few hours, so they’ll have plenty of time. “The movie is quite popular, so I think we should book for the closest time slot first.”
Killua suddenly looks at him with rounded eyes. As if he had grown a second head.
“What?” Leorio asks, blinking. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I— It’s— Nevermind.” Killua shakes his head, but it’s obvious that he’s hesitating about something. His problem is explained when he adds: “I need to save money for travelling.”
“Oh! If that’s what you’re worried about, then don’t worry,” Leorio says, standing up to grab his phone from the dining table. “I’ll pay for your ticket. My treat.”
“Huh?” Killua splutters. A faint blush immediately dusts his pale cheeks. “You don’t have to—”
Leorio waves his free hand in the air, cutting him off. “It’s fine. Let’s watch that movie!”
Leorio’s other hand is already searching for the cinema website and scrolling through the list of movies airing for today. Thankfully, there’s a slot for the movie that Killua wants to watch—but it’s in twenty minutes. Distance won’t be a problem since the cinema is nearby, but buying food might take some time...
“Leorio, you really don’t have to.” A fluff of white hair pokes his arm, and Leorio looks down to see Killua looking at him almost... anxiously? It’s not often he sees fear in the kid—he doesn’t even bat an eye at his own injuries—so this is slightly concerning. “I can just wait until they play it on the TV.”
Leorio frowns. He pauses right before he can buy the tickets. “Do you not want to go?”
“I—It’s not that,” Killua says, eyes darting around the room. Eventually, they settle on the television. One of his index fingers starts fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. “I’ve never, um.” He looks down before mumbling, “I’ve never been to a cinema before.”
Never been to a cinema?! Well, that does it. Leorio would do anything to give this kid some kind of normalcy in his life. So, they will be going to a cinema to watch this movie.
He immediately books the tickets before Killua can protest any further. There are very few seats left, but thankfully, he manages to get two seats a good distance from the screen, and nearly in the middle too.
“Then, get dressed,” Leorio says, before he puts down his phone and keeps his medical supplies. “Movie starts in fifteen minutes, so we better hurry.”
“...What about Gon and Kurapika?”
“Is it our fault that they left us while we were sleeping our asses off?” Leorio asks, smirking.
Killua almost instantly gives him a shit-eating grin. He rubs his palms together mischievously. “Gon is going to be so pissed.”
➳
“We should get some snacks too!”
“What?!” Killua yells. Leorio still hears the are you crazy even though it’s left unsaid. “We only have five minutes left! And we haven’t even claimed our tickets!”
“This is your first time going to the cinema, right?” Leorio asks, a little breathlessly. His legs continue to run underneath him. Killua easily matches his stride despite being shorter than him. “Let me tell you, movies don’t actually start on the exact time. We actually have fifteen minutes of ads playing.”
“Then why the hell are we running?!”
“Because!” Leorio comes to an abrupt halt, and Killua immediately does the same—nearly crashing into him. Leorio points to the line of people in front of them, face turning serious. “Queue.”
As expected, there’s a lot of people. If the workers here are any less than efficient, Leorio and Killua are definitely going to miss some parts of the movie. But the line seems to be moving fast, and Leorio would be damned if he starts walking into the cinema empty-handed without anything to chew on.
“Come on!” Leorio says, tugging Killua to start lining up. The kid lets out a yelp and an annoyed grumble, but other than that, he perks up at the sight of the menu displayed on one of the screens. Leorio already knows what he wants; some good old nachos with extra cheese, along with cold ice lemon tea. He looks down at Killua. “What do you wanna order?”
Killua looks at him, a little wide-eyed—as if he didn’t expect Leorio to ask him what he wants—before he tiptoes to see the menu again. “Maybe... chips?”
“Chips. Got it,” Leorio nods. He steps forward when the line moves. “Drinks?”
“Iced chocolate?” Killua says, and despite it coming out like a question, at least he sounds more confident now. He’s still looking at Leorio like he’s going to change his mind at the very last second though.
“Chips and iced chocolate it is,” Leorio says, as a form of reassurance.
Killua finally looks away, choosing to stare at his shoes. He may try his best to hide it, but his ears are so obviously red, Leorio has to hold back from laughing.
They’re getting closer to the counter, but it’s taking forever, especially when the families in front of them are ordering like they’re trying to feed the whole damn city.
“Daddy—!” a girl whines, before she bumps into Killua, who winces at the contact. He has probably let his guard down with the whole ordering-food-thing, because Leorio’s sure he would’ve dodged that if he had been paying attention. “Ow!”
Killua only turns to face her, expression annoyed. She looks about the same age as him, but the difference in mentality is vast with only a single glance. “Watch it.”
“Killua, she didn’t mean it,” Leorio half-whispers, nudging him. He then slaps a smile on his face as he looks at the girl’s parents. “Sorry. He’s been a little moody.”
Killua gawks at him, clearly insulted, and Leorio has an inkling it’s because he’s treating him like some kid (which he is, by the way). He chooses to deliberately ignore him.
“Mommy, Daddy, it hurts!” the girl cries, clutching the arm that collided with Killua’s body. Yeah, Leorio can’t blame her. Bumping into Killua was probably like bumping into a brick wall. She looks at her parents, lips wobbling. “He hit me!”
Okay, what.
A nerve pops through Killua’s temple. “Now, wait a second—”
Leorio extends an arm in front of him. As much as he’s also annoyed that the girl is lying, he will not have children fighting right before their movie. “I’m sure there has been a misunderstanding—”
“Look, my arm is red!” the girl wails. To his horror, it is red.
Leorio throws a glance at Killua. What is your body made out of?!
As if he has developed telepathy, Killua only shrugs.
“Okay.” Leorio pinches the bridge of his nose. He moves to kneel on one leg. “Let me see—”
“Stay away from my daughter, you scum!” the man yells, pulling his daughter away from him. Half of the people lining up are looking at them now, but instead of interfering, they only look interested. Curse these people and their nosiness. Leorio would’ve been interested too—if this drama didn’t involve him. “Get your son to apologise!”
“Yes!” the woman, which Leorio assumes is the wife, says. She hugs her daughter close to her chest. “You horrid man. You let your child hurt our poor girl!”
“Did any of you not see that she was the one who bumped into him?!” Leorio exclaims, feeling annoyed himself. Like yes, he’s a doctor, and it sucks that the girl got hurt, but he also has eyes! And he clearly saw that it wasn’t even Killua who bumped into her!
A staff member begins to approach them. “Is there a problem here?”
“He hurt me! He hurt me!” the girl continues to wail. Well, the expensive clothes she’s wearing explains a lot now.
“Apologise,” the father demands, glaring at Killua this time.
It’s barely noticeable, but Killua’s shaking a little, his face red, hands clenched into tight fists. He looks overwhelmed, his pupils constricted, and Leorio knows that it’s taking everything in him to hold back from leaving this entire family as corpses.
Before Leorio can convince him not to commit murder in public, however, Killua regains his composure by breathing in and out; schooling his face back into a blank mask. He looks like he just wants to get this over with, and the word sounds entirely forced when he says, “I’m—”
“No,” Leorio quickly interrupts, and Killua whips his head at him in shock. “He’s not going to apologise, because he did nothing wrong.”
“Leorio,” Killua hisses, desperate. “We’re going to miss the movie.”
“Forget about the movie,” Leorio snaps, throwing a glance at him. “I am not letting you apologise for something that you didn’t do.”
The staff member has been exchanging a few words with his walkie-talkie. He looks back and forth between Leorio and the family behind him. “Gentlemen, if we could please—”
“I can see why the other kids would beat him up,” the man interrupts, eyeing Killua’s patched injuries from head to toe, making the boy bristle. “Because parents like you wouldn’t do it yoursel—”
The man is on the ground in a blink of an eye. Leorio can only see red as he lifts his fist in the air, planning to just—
“Leorio!” Small hands grab his arm, right before he can swing it at the man’s face. Killua’s voice was weirdly high-pitched. “Stop it!”
“W-wait!” The man struggles to get him off, but Leorio doesn’t budge. “I’m—”
Leorio manages to yank his hand out of Killua’s grasp, before he punches the floor directly next to the man’s face. It leaves a small dent—Leorio plans to pay the cinema for that—but it has the intended effect. The woman and daughter finally shut up, body trembling in fear. Meanwhile, the husband looks like his soul has flown out of his body.
“You can call me scum or whatever,” Leorio says, his voice dangerously low. “But you justify another kid’s abuse, I’ll make sure to personally beat you to hell and back. You got that?”
The man nods silently, fearfully.
“Good.” Leorio steps off of him, and the man immediately scrambles to his feet. “Now, get out of my sight.”
The family leaves even before the staff can escort them out. (Leorio has a feeling that they’re aware of what really took place, judging by the conversations they had through their walkie-talkie. Thank god for the invention of security cameras.) Everyone else goes back to minding their own business, most likely not wanting to be the next target of Leorio’s fist.
“I’ll pay for that,” Leorio says to the staff member, pointing at the dent on the floor.
He then looks down at Killua, who has gone completely silent.
“Hey,” he says, gently touching the boy’s shoulder. He pretends he didn’t notice the subtle flinch. “We probably missed some of the movie, but we can still watch it. You think you’re still up for it?”
“...Yeah,” Killua says, voice oddly small. He must’ve noticed it, because he then clears his throat, before he speaks a little louder, “Yeah, um, okay.”
➳
Killua has not been paying attention to the movie.
His food was barely touched; the bag of chips was open, but it’s still full even after half an hour had passed. Leorio would’ve thought that he didn’t like the kind of chips they sell, but not drinking the iced chocolate? Now that’s a huge giveaway that something is wrong.
He wants to strangle that family so badly. Everything had been going so well, but of course they had to ruin it—
Killua rubs his hands against his thighs. This isn’t the first time he’s doing it. Now that Leorio has a good look at him, he realises that Killua had been wearing his grey shorts to the cinema. It’s an inappropriate outfit to wear with the air conditioners blasting like crazy. But then again, knowing that Killua has never been to a cinema before, it’s his fault for forgetting to tell him that it’s going to be freezing.
“You cold?” Leorio asks, unzipping the hoodie he wore outside of his long-sleeved shirt. (He came prepared okay.)
“I’m fine,” Killua says through gritted teeth and immediately stops with the rubbing. “I can handle a little bit of cold.”
“You can handle it, but there’s no need to make you go through it,” Leorio says, before he places his hoodie over Killua’s legs, like a blanket. “Here.”
Thankfully, Killua is wearing his signature clothes; the white t-shirt with the blue turtleneck inside of it. So that means Leorio doesn’t have to worry about his arms also getting cold.
Killua only shifts uncomfortably, his head lowered. He twists the hoodie over his legs, but he doesn’t say anything else.
Leorio takes this as a sign to continue watching the movie. He can feel the cold seeping into his arms without the extra layer, but he can ignore it if it means Killua isn’t bothered by the chill.
A few seconds—or probably a minute—passes, and Killua suddenly asks, “Why?”
“‘Why’?” Leorio repeats questioningly, brows knitting in confusion as he looks at the kid.
“Why didn’t you just— I don’t know.” Killua grabs the hoodie again, digging his fingers into the fabric. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I’d just apologised?”
“And let their daughter get away with lying?” Leorio’s lips thinned. “I would rather not. It wasn’t your fault.”
“...But it’s easier.”
“Killing them would’ve been easier too, wouldn’t it?” Leorio asks, and Killua immediately averts his gaze. So Leorio hadn’t imagined it. He did sense the kid’s bloodlust. “Easier doesn’t always mean that it’s right, Killua.”
Killua lifts his head to absentmindedly stare at the movie playing. The light from the screen illuminates his pale face. “You almost punched him.”
“Well, he deserves an actual punch for what he said to you,” Leorio huffs. He takes a sip of his drink just to soothe the spike of anger he’s feeling right now. “But that would be assault, and I don’t want to start explaining to the police. We don’t need our day ruined only because of some asshole.”
Killua falls silent for a moment. “You didn’t have to,” he says quietly. He looks down at his bag of chips. “I don’t really care about what he said.”
“Too bad. I do.” Leorio leans back in his seat. “No adult should ever say that to a kid.”
“Leorio, I’ve killed adults before.”
“Yes, because you were raised by other adults to do it.”
Killua clenches his bag of chips. It makes a faint crumpling sound. “That doesn’t excuse what I did.”
“Exactly. Just like how it’s not an excuse for your parents to beat you up as part of your training, or how you deserve that beating because you wouldn’t apologise for ‘accidentally’ bumping into some rich people’s kid.”
Killua lets out a sigh. It sounds—resigned. He probably knows that there’s no use arguing with him. He only sinks into his seat, some of his upper body burying into Leorio’s hoodie.
“Why are you—” Killua begins, pauses, then swallows thickly. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Why not?” Leorio shoots back.
“I don’t know,” Killua mumbles, swinging his legs a little. He’s determined to stare at his shoes in the dark. “I’m not really… a good person.”
“But you tried to stop me from punching that guy just now,” Leorio says, tilting his head to the side with a raised brow. “If you weren’t a good person, why didn’t you just let me?”
Killua opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. He only blinks at him dumbly.
Leorio smiles at that, turning his body to the side so that he can face Killua. He puts his elbow over the armrest between them. “I think,” he begins, bending a little so that he can look at him eye-level, “that you’re actually a good kid, Killua. You were just unfortunate to be born into the wrong side of the world.”
Killua looks up at him in shock. His eyes glisten from where the light of the screen hits him.
“You’ve been taught to be an assassin almost your entire life,” Leorio continues, setting a gentle hand onto the snowy white hair. “So let me show you that you can be more than that. That you’re allowed to be the kid that you are, too.”
Killua seems like he’s completely at a loss for words; if the lack of response isn’t already obvious enough. When Leorio pulls his hand away, the kid’s eyes are already hidden underneath his white bangs. The light from the screen allows him to catch a quick glimpse of his lips wobbling.
“...Thanks,” Killua mutters softly, his voice barely audible. Shaky.
Leorio smiles, his eyes crinkling. “Anytime, kiddo.”