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It was raining.
Gon usually didn’t mind the rain. He enjoyed watching the droplets of water roll down the window whenever he was at home with his Aunt Mito, trying to guess which would reach the bottom first. It felt like watching a race but for free.
But today was different. Today… sucked.
Because right now, he was being soaked in the rain.
His hair was sticking to his forehead, and his clothes were practically sinking into the depths of his skin. Why didn’t he think of bringing an umbrella? He had no idea. He didn’t even expect it to rain. Ugh.
Kite had warned him, mainly because it is more dangerous to pursue the paranormal during stormy weather. But Gon had been too impatient, perhaps a bit too impatient, to finally be accompanying Kite on an adventure in the first place, so the warning simply fell on deaf ears. Now, with squishy shoes and soggy socks, he regretted his bad judgment. Tsk tsk.
Gon can already picture his Aunt Mito as she scolds him, her thin eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed into an irritated scowl. She’d probably say something like: “Next time, don’t be an idiot and use logic for once!” or…maybe something a bit nicer, depending on her mood… He doesn’t want to risk telling her this when he gets home. Nope. Absolutely not.
Gon started to glance around the desolate neighborhood, and he squinted to get a better look, but it was hard to see due to the heavy rain and the purple hues of fog. It was witchy, almost wicked, and suddenly he was reminded of a certain blonde-haired woman with curly pigtails…
The streets were devoid of their usual crowd of people, and they were abandoned with only tiny puddles that decorated the ground and empty, phantom-like sidewalks. The sound of rain hitting the ground drowned out the noise of his boots sinking in the dirt, and there was an unearthly quiet in the air. Huh. Wasn’t York New supposed to be one of the most popular cities? The one that’s usually overrun with ginormous crowds of people? That’s what his friend Kurapika had told him…
Gon shivered, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. He tried to wipe the rain off his face, but it was no use. Each foolish attempt only resulted in more water trickling down his drenched skin. Man… he thought to himself, I’m going to get sick for sure.
As he stumbled through the deserted streets, Gon couldn't help but wonder why exactly Kite had warned him about the dangers of hunting the paranormal in the rain. He had always thought rain was just...well, rain. Or maybe the world was crying because it was sad, at least, that’s what Gon believed sometimes. What could go wrong? It’s not like he wasn’t used to running and walking in stormy weather; he did it all the time as a kid when playing outside with his Aunt Mito and Grandma Abe.
Kite had even seen it himself. All those mud pies that Gon had made for him, swearing they were edible, grinning up at him with crooked teeth and big doe hazel eyes…
Gon sneezed. Then a shiver escaped from his quivering, dried lips. Damn. This isn’t good. I should wait for the rain to clear…
As he hugged himself in the cold rainwater, he squinted his eyes in an attempt to see through the faint, light purple fog, yet he could barely make out what was in front of him. Just when he was about to give up and crouch under some awning like a stray cat, something caught his eye through the dense curtain of fog and rain, a looming silhouette in the distance. A building?
He squinted, blinking through the raindrops that clung to his lashes. Yeah, there it was!
…Barely visible, but there. Which was great. Awesome. A crumbling old structure with jagged windows and crooked walls, like something out of a horror manga.
…Not exactly welcoming, but it was shelter. And right now, that was all Gon needed. He didn’t have a choice. It was either risk getting wet, being sick for a week, or avoiding the whole plague. The ghosts are a bonus.
The dark-haired boy trudged toward it, water sloshing in his shoes, his fingers stiff and numb. Each step felt heavier like the hands of dirt and rain itself were trying to hold him back. But he pushed forward, teeth clenched and arms wrapped tightly around himself. Finally, after what felt like centuries, he reached it.
A warehouse. Long abandoned, from the looks of it. Its broken windows gaped like empty eyes, and the rusted doors hung slightly ajar, creaking as the wind nudged them open. He was greeted with an overwhelming musty smell and an eerie silence that sent shivers down his spine. The sound of rain hitting the roof seemed distant as if muffled by the decaying walls.
Gon clutched his arms tighter around himself, his heart erratically pounding in his chest. He wasn’t afraid, just exhausted. And freaking cold and wet. Horrible combo.
And he was alone.
…At least he hoped he was.
Gon's eyes scanned the darkened room, barely making out the outlines of scattered furniture and broken crates. The dim light filtering through the shattered windows was not enough to provide a clear view of his surroundings. His ears strained to catch any sign of movement or presence, but all he could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. With each passing second, the unsettling feeling in the air grew stronger. He couldn't shake off the sensation that he was being watched, that unseen eyes were studying his every move, predicting what he’d do next.
Maybe I’m just being paranoid…
Yeah, that had to be it. There was no way something was out there, right? There was nothing here. He was just imagining it. There was nothing here-
SNAP!
Gon flinched.
The sound of a twig snapping under the weight of someone—or something— sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body. He instinctively crouched down, his heart erratically pounding in his chest, threatening to burst out of his ribcage. The room fell into complete silence once again, as if the noise had never happened. As if he imagined it.
Gon's mind raced, his thoughts consumed by the possibilities of what could be lurking in the darkness. Was it an animal? A person? Or something else entirely? His hands trembled as he reached for the small flashlight he had brought with him, his fingers struggling to find the switch.
Click.
The feeble beam of light illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Sweat trickled down Gon's forehead, mixing with the raindrops that had found their way inside. He slowly stood up, holding the flashlight in front of him like a shield. He took a cautious step forward, the wooden floor creaking beneath his weight.
Gon's eyes darted from corner to corner, desperately searching for any sign of movement. The light revealed nothing but the remnants of a forgotten place, abandoned and decaying.
Gon let out a sigh of relief. He was fine. Everything was fine!-
“BOO!”
Gon let out a shriek of terror as he flinched violently, which caused him to trip and fall to the floor, his face landing directly on a cold puddle. An ‘OOMPH!’ escaped from him as he did so.
His flashlight slipped out of his hand, clattering against the floor and casting eerie shadows in the room. Heart pounding, and gasping for breath, Gon scrambled to his feet, wiping his wet face with the sleeve of his shirt. “W-who’s there?!” He exclaimed, his entire body trembling.
There was no answer, only the sound of a husky, boyish laughter that echoed through the space.
Gon's heart continued to race as he tried to steady his trembling hands. Slowly, he reached down to pick up the fallen flashlight, his fingers wrapping tightly around its handle. Oh gosh. Am I gonna die?! Is this what Kite meant?!
He shone the light around the room again, yet this time, he wasn’t illuminating just old, vintage furniture. In the corner of his eyes, there was a boy with silver hair who was snickering and holding back his laughter by covering his mouth with his palms.
Well, Gon wasn’t sure he could call him a boy, because, well, said silver-haired boy was floating in the air while giggling like a teenage girl talking to her school crush. What the heck?
Gon was confused. What was a ghost doing here in a place like this…? Ghosts usually roamed rich and luxurious places, at least, that’s what Kite had told him. They had more fun messing around in places with money, especially with luxurious items like pearl necklaces and diamond rings. Or maybe those were female ghosts…? Aren’t diamonds a girl’s best friend?
…Wait. Was that sexist? Gon mentally scrambled to toss the ridiculous thoughts out of his brain. I’m not being discriminatory right now, am I?! Guys can like jewelry too!
After some time, the silver-haired boy stopped laughing, yet he seemed to be confused when Gon just continued to stare at him, completely dumbfounded. He glanced around beside him, over his shoulder, yet when he realized that Gon could see him, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Uh oh.
“You know, I thought ghosts usually roamed rich and luxurious places,” Gon started to speak, the fear in his face now replaced with a playful, toothy grin, “I’m surprised you’re here.”
“W-Wha-” The ghost scrunched his thin eyebrows in a frustrated, yet confused expression. What the hell? Who the hell is this guy? Why can he see me?! And why is he SMILING?!
Gon should be terrified — mortified at the sight of him. He should be letting out blood-curdling screams escape from his throat and scrambling to his feet as he runs out of the abandoned warehouse. His face should be pale, he should be sweating and shitting his pants due to shivering fear. Hell, the damn boy should be running away, begging for his life to not be haunted and cursed with paranormal experiences, maybe even yelling for his mother, (in this case, his aunt) screaming shit like “MOOOOMMYYYYYYY!!!!”
And adding a couple of prayers for good measure. Like:
“Jesus, Buddha, whoever’s listening right now-
I promise I’ll do my chores, I’ll never skip leg day again, I’ll stop stealing cookies before dinner-
JUST PLEASE DON’T LET THIS GHOST EAT MY SOUL!!!”
Except he’s… not.
He’s just standing there, a boyish, annoyingly attractive grin plastered on his lips. Like an absolute idiot.
The ghost hated to admit it, but he kind of looked adorable. And it pissed him off how jolly he looked. He didn’t know whether he liked it or not. He doesn’t. Does he? No, he doesn’t. Nope.
Does he not think I used to be rich or something? The silver-haired ghost thought as he glared at the boy in disapproval, pouting slightly in a way that looked...cute.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Gon sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, that stupid, charming grin still not quite wiped away, “I just have to report the status of this area to my boss.”
Boss? The silver-haired ghost raises an eyebrow as he watches Gon kneel and shrug off his olive-colored backpack. “Your boss?” He huffs, an expression of confusion etched onto his pale face, “So, what is this, some kind of ghost patrol?”
“Eh, something like that?” Gon says with a nervous chuckle, the sound cracking through the silence of the warehouse. “Kite—my boss—never really told me exactly what he does. I kind of just help him,” he adds, beginning to rummage through his bag. He pulls out a couple of flashlights, a folded-up map, and a few water-damaged files, laying them out carefully on a dusty crate like he’s done this a hundred times before.
The ghost floats just a little closer, arms crossed, thin eyebrows raised in blatant skepticism. He doesn’t say anything, but the unimpressed look on his face says plenty.
Gon notices. Still, he offers a bashful smile in return, his caramel-brown eyes glinting under the broken light filtering in through the warehouse’s decaying walls.
For a moment, they simply…stare. Not awkward, not tense, just quiet. Curious.
Gon lets his eyes trace the ghost’s form. Slender, yet strong. Broad shoulders and lean arms. That sharp jawline that looks like it could cut glass. The kind of face that would probably look stunning in daylight, or terrifying if caught off guard in the dark. Maybe both.
He swallows. Hard. Gon’s saliva is hot as it trails down his esophagus, and he hopes it’ll burn the fluttering butterflies that dance in his stomach. Okay, stop staring!
“...You’re not…scared of me?” The ghost murmurs. His voice is husky, low, and delicate. Like he’s afraid to break the fragile silence that lingers between them.
“Hm?” Gon blinks, pulling himself away from the spell the ghost unknowingly cast on him. The dark-haired boy shakes his head slightly, a rush of heat caressing his now flushed cheeks. “Um, no, not really in all honesty,” A nervous laughter bubbles out of Gon’s chest like champagne, “I’ve done this a bunch of times. You’re not the first ghost I’ve met.” But the first good-looking one I’ve come across… Holy crap.
The silver-haired ghost hums, his mesmerizing cerulean eyes sinking into Gon’s gaze, pinning him in place with quiet intensity.
Gon wishes the floor would open its mouth and swallow him whole.
“So,” The ghost continues, his tone light, teasing, “you’re a natural at this, huh?” A slow, sly smirk forms in the corner of his lips, and Gon has to look away again.
“I-I guess you could say that…” Gon mutters, voice thinner now, his confidence trailing off like mist. He forces a laugh and fiddles with the edge of the file in his hands, trying to keep his gaze anywhere but on the very much dead and very pretty boy floating a few feet away from him. Why is he like this!? He’s talked to plenty of ghosts before; some were children, unfortunately, and some were old and already accepting their fate. A few were angry, vengeful, and made Gon nearly piss himself once or twice. (He’d never admit that to Kite.)
But none of them looked like him. None of them had a voice that low and soft and intentionally flirty, or eyes that sparkled like moonlight on fresh snow. None of them made Gon forget that he was supposed to be doing a job, a job he’s been doing for almost a year now.
The boy has studied ghosts, phantoms, poltergeists, and other types of paranormal entities in books that he borrowed from Kite, reading them until the ungodly hours of dawn, and yet he never learned that they could be so… deadly attractive. Uh, pun intended?
The ghost’s fluffy, silver hair shimmers in the moonlight, which shines through the half-opened windows, giving him an ethereal look, and for a mere second, Gon’s heart skips a beat. Why does he look so familiar?
The dark-haired boy’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, boiling heat prickling at his neck and ears. This was so not in the field guide. No entry under “Class D Specters” ever mentioned anything about flirty smirks that make your stomach do somersaults. Wait, why is he talking about specters!?-
“What’s your name?” The ghost murmurs.
Gon blinks. Once. Twice. “H-Huh?”
“Your name, dummy,” He grins, floating a little closer now, his words affectionate, albeit the silly nickname. Their shoulders brush—well, not exactly, but Gon’s lips quiver as he shivers, a cold chill crawling down his spine. What was he expecting? “You gonna tell me or just keep making heart-eyes at me all night?”
“Wha- WHAT?! ” Said dummy splutters, his face flushing hot. Gon the Dummy nearly drops the files into a nearby puddle, desperately clenching them into his sweaty palms, “I-I wasn’t-”
“Mhm,” The silver-haired ghost hums, tilting his head slightly as he amuses himself in Gon’s adorable reaction. “Seemed like you were,” he teases, drifting in a slow, lazy circle around him like a shark around prey—if sharks were annoyingly attractive and slightly translucent.
“I wasn’t making heart-eyes at you!” Gon blurts, too loudly and too defensively to be convincing.
The ghost snorts, “Sure you weren’t.”
The dark-haired boy groans in annoyance, eyebrows cutely furrowed, and his nose scrunched as he drags a hand down his face in defeat. “Was not…”
“Was too.”
“Shut up!” Gon splutters.
The translucent figure laughs, and it’s husky, raw, and deep. And Gon hates how much he likes it. …Wait, what!?
“Well, if you’re not gonna tell me your name, I guess I can tell you mine,” the ghost sighs dramatically, running a slender hand through his silver hair. “My name is Killua. Killua Zoldyck.”
…Killua.
The name hits Gon like a slap to the face. That is familiar. Way too familiar.
“Killua…?” The dark-haired boy echoes, the name tumbling out of his mouth like he’s testing its weight on his tongue. His brows knit together. He knows that name. From somewhere. Somewhere real. Not from a ghost registry. Not from Kite’s reports. Not from field notes. He knows him.
Killua must catch the shift in his expression because his cocky grin falters just a little. “What?”
“…I think I know you,” Gon says quietly, his caramel-colored eyes wide, voice barely above a whisper, “from before.”
Yeah, he’s definitely seen him somewhere, he’s confident he has, but…the question is, where?
Killua tilts his head, his cat-shaped eyes narrowing slightly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Then, his crystal-like eyes light up, almost as if a lightbulb flickers above his head.
“Oh!” The silver-haired boy’s pale pink lips part as they form an ‘o’ shape, “Yeah, I kind of was a big deal back then. Former assassin, you know?” Killua says with a toothy grin, his translucent, lean arms crossed over his chest, “Have you ever heard of the Zoldyck family?”
Zoldyck family? Former…assassin?
Gon isn’t sure whether or not he should be running for his life right now, or falling even harder. Wait- No! That’s not the point! Focus, Gon!
“…Uhh…” The dark-haired boy blinks at him, slack-jawed, chocolate brown eyes looking up at him like he hung the damn moon despite the terrifying words that just escaped from him, “You were a what ?”
“Assassin,” Killua repeats casually as if it’s no big deal. The silver-haired ghost floats a little higher off the ground, arms still crossed, his signature Zoldyck smirk returning, “Don’t tell me you’re scared of me now, after all that heart-eyes nonsense?”
“I-” Gon stammers, his cheeks adorably flushed as he waves his hands up defensively, “I-I’m not! It just…caught me off guard, that’s all!” The dark-haired boy sheepishly chuckles, a nervous, boyish grin curving upon his lips, “Besides, you’re like…dead now, so you can’t kill me, right?”
“I don’t know, can I?” Killua’s eyes glint mischievously as he leans in, just a bit, frigid chills emitting from his crystal-clear body, “Why don’t I test it out?”
Gon freezes.
Then Killua lets out a husky laugh, soft and teasing, floating lazily backward, his slender fingers splayed across his stomach as if to hold in his amusement. “You should see your face,” he snickers, voice echoing faintly through the warehouse, “you look like you just saw a ghost.”
Gon doesn’t say anything, but the dull expression on his face says ‘Seriously?’
“Ha-ha. Very funny,” The dark-haired boy glares at him, lips formed into a pouty curve. “ Never heard that one before. You’re hilarious.” And ridiculously handsome…
“Thanks,” Killua throws a wink at him, and Gon blushes hard, his teeth finding his bottom lip to stop himself from cheesily grinning. “I can’t actually kill you, but I was an assassin. Well, ex-assassin, I guess,” He mutters, floating beside Gon now, that charming, cat-like smirk still on his lips, “Not like I can kill anyone anymore. Kinda hard without a pulse,” The silver-haired boy sticks his tongue out at Gon like it’s a joke, but his eyes—piercing, beautiful, moonlike eyes—hold something else. Something darker. Sadder.
Gon takes a slow step back, trying to process the words that are currently still entering his brain, “You’re saying you…killed people? Before?”
Killua rolls his eyes, an annoyed scowl forming on his pale lips now. “What, you think all ghosts are sweet little grandmas and Victorian children playing with hoops and sticks?” The silver-haired ghost deadpans.
“No, I just-!” Gon flusters, running both hands through his rain-damp hair, his clothes still sticking to his moist skin, “I didn’t expect you to be some, like, super famous (flirtatious) murder ghost! That’s not in any of Kite’s field guides!”
“Eh, I wouldn’t say I’m superstar famous…”
“B-But still! The Zoldyck family? That’s insane!”
“They were insane,” Killua’s low voice sharply cuts through Gon’s words.
Gon instantly shuts up. His mouth doesn’t open at all. The boy just waits for Killua to continue, and he most certainly doesn’t expect the ethereal ghost to sit beside him, a cold breeze brushing over Gon’s soaked skin as Killua’s form hovers mere inches away.
“They were insane,” the ghost repeats, quieter this time—almost to himself. “And I was part of it.”
The desolate atmosphere in the room stills. The rain outside has dulled to a light patter, and all Gon can hear now is the faint echo of it dripping through cracks in the roof.
He doesn’t know what to say. So he doesn’t say anything. Just remains in silence, basking in the quiet moment.
Killua glances over, crystal-like eyes catching the way Gon’s lips part slightly like he wants to speak but can’t find the words. Like he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing. “…You’re different,” The silver-haired ghost murmurs after a moment, his cheeks slightly tinged pink, “most people scream or cry when they see me. You just… sat here. And smiled.”
“I didn’t smile,” Gon lies instantly, cheeks puffed up in protest, and Killua has this terrible urge to pinch them if that were even possible. “I was being polite.”
“Sure,” A soft laugh escapes Killua, not mocking, just… amused. Then, “You’re cute.”
Gon’s heart stutters against his chest, threatening to burst out of his ribcage and spill out in the open. Did…Did he just-?? He did, right?
“Wh-What?” Gon’s voice cracks as he stammers, and he clasps a palm over his quivering lips.
Killua laughs at the sight. Not mocking. Not amused. Just too enamored, too deep in love, his heartstrings, though not pulsating, tugged too tightly in his chest. “I said you’re cute,” He repeats, his own ghostly skin flushed now, cheeks adorably glowing red, “Like, too freaking adorable.”
Gon awkwardly opens his mouth, then closes it again. His throat is dry, despite the humidity clinging to the air around them, and his heart won’t stop racing. His heartbeat is so loud that he’s sure that Killua can hear it too. “I-I think you’re…” The dark-haired boy thickly swallows, voice barely a whisper, sweaty palms gripping “...really pretty, too.”
Killua’s thin brows shoot up, his cheeks still glowing beet red, pearlescent teeth finding his bottom lip. His phantom blue eyes soften, and he can’t stop the cheesy grin that forms on his face.
“Yeah?”
Gon nods vigorously, his caramel-colored eyes glistening in the dim light as he looks up at Killua, pupils wide and dilated, and Killua is convinced they’re almost heart-shaped. “Y-Yeah. Like, too pretty. Beautiful. Um, handsome too. You’re like…unreal.”
Killua flushes. “You’re an idiot…” he mutters, averting his gaze as he ducks his head, attempting to hide his flustered expression behind his silver locks.
“B-But it’s true!” Gon exclaims, his usually bright voice now shaky, his peach-colored lips quivering, “I-I’ve never seen a ghost that looks like you…”
“Tch,” Killua’s lips twitch, the corner of his mouth lifting despite himself, “you’re really something else.”
“I mean it,” Gon insists, his voice soft, almost reverent now. “You’re like…like a star. I don’t even think I’m supposed to be able to look at you this long without turning to dust or something…”
That gets a laugh out of Killua. A real one. It’s airy and light, a sound that seems to shimmer through the cold air like wind chimes. Gon stares at him, heart pounding harder. He loves his laugh, and he’s not ashamed to admit it. Not anymore. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks.
Killua quiets again, blue eyes studying Gon’s flushed, awestruck expression. The curve of his peach-colored lips, the soft shape of his nose, and his flushed cheeks practically beg for him to kiss and pinch them. “Don’t move,” he murmurs, voice low and husky.
Gon doesn’t. He holds perfectly still, frozen more by anticipation than fear. What is he doing? Is he gonna-
“Close your eyes.”
Oh.
Gon does. The boy shuts his eyes tightly, so tightly he can see colorful phosphenes form and dance in pure darkness.
Killua leans in slowly, so painfully slowly, the ghostly glow of his form crackling faintly, barely visible, his lifeless, cold breath intertwining with Gon’s. He’s warm, full of life , blood pumping in his veins, wrapped in flesh and bone, the complete opposite of him. Alive. So why does it feel as if Killua is alive too?
Gon tilts his head slightly, their lips barely inches away, and then-
Their lips meet.
Or at least, it feels like they do. It’s not quite solid, not quite air, more like a spark. Literally. A soft pressure, featherlight, and electric. It didn’t feel like any kiss Gon’s ever imagined; it felt like lightning threading through his chest, and despite how cold it felt, it left a tingling warmth crawling from his lips down to his toes.
After a while, Killua breaks the icy kiss, their lips parting with a shiver of electricity, ghosting between them like a secret only they shared.
Killua pulls back just enough to watch Gon’s reaction, his lips trembling as he murmurs, “You felt that?”
“Y-Yeah,” The dark-haired boy nods vigorously, brown eyes wide and stunned. Killua feels as if he has hung the moon now. “I- How did you do that?”
The silver-haired boy smirks faintly, cheeks still flushed in that annoyingly cute way. His voice is soft, barely more than a breath, as he murmurs, “I guess I’ve still got a little spark left in me.” Killua’s grin is small, teasing, but there’s something in his eyes, something shy, hesitant, as he watches Gon, like he’s not sure how the words will land.
Gon blinks, caught off guard by both the dumb pun and the way Killua is looking at him. Then a laugh bursts out of him, warm and unfiltered, a little breathless. “That was awful,” he wheezes between laughs, grinning like an absolute idiot in love.
Killua just shrugs, lips forming into a smug little smirk, “Still made you smile.”
“Shut up,” Gon mutters, cheeks burning, his eyes shining with something soft. “Do it again?”
Killua stiffens for a moment like he hadn’t expected that. Then, slowly, he leans in again, this time gentler, more certain, his electric blue eyes flicking between Gon’s lips and the look in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he breathes, his frigid hand already lightly cupping Gon’s cheek, a ghostly whisper of a touch. “As many times as you want."