Chapter Text
It should have been easy to sleep on Whale Island.
The nights there were peaceful. Ocean-cooled breezes drifted routinely through open windows. The gentle sounds of nature at rest—waves rippling the shore, trees delicately swaying, occasional calls from nocturnal wildlife—made for a serene soundscape. Light pollution was relegated to the mainland, leaving the island bathed in a soft, starry glow.
Gon knew nighttime on Whale Island by heart. This was home, after all. He loved sleeping here. He got his best rest here. He belonged here.
Gon was home on Whale Island and he hadn’t slept well in months.
He usually managed a few hours each night, but he woke up a lot. Tossed and turned more than he used to. Often he’d lay perfectly still, controlling his breathing, willing himself to drift off for what felt like forever, only to open his eyes in frustration, wide awake as the moment he’d gone to bed. He’d read too many articles on insomnia in the dead of night lately.
He was glad that he barely remembered any dreams—like there was something in the way. The bits and pieces that made it to his conscious mind hadn’t been much fun. A shout here, unnaturally bright light there. Once he was throwing a punch that felt strong while his heart felt weak. A few times he knew he’d seen Killua, but he’d looked scared, and Gon didn’t like that. He’d have liked dreaming about Killua smiling.
Sometimes, when sleep was especially evasive, Gon found himself wandering. If Aunt Mito realized he’d been sneaking out, she wasn’t letting on. He knew the island like the back of his hand and trusted himself out there as much as in the safety of his bedroom. Besides, he suspected she knew he needed time.
Time for what, he couldn’t say exactly. Maybe he needed to think, though it was just as likely he needed to clear his head completely. He’d meditate on the cliffs, walk the shoreline of the beach, explore the woods for the thousandth time. He always brought his phone.
Killua’s time zone was constantly changing these days. It wasn’t uncommon that he’d be up and active wherever he was during Gon’s nighttime excursions. Sometimes he’d call. Gon loved those nights; they would always wind up the highlight of his week. Or month, he thought dully.
The World Tree was two and a half years ago. Thirty months since Gon’s path was intertwined with Killua’s and ten since the last time they’d been in the same room. Gon spent his sixteenth birthday in the city with Leorio and some Hunter friends; Killua and Alluka made a surprise appearance.
Gon, supine and stargazing in a clearing he’d discovered as a child, smiled at the memory.
“Sorry, old man wouldn’t let us tell you we were coming. He wants you to think it was his idea or something.”
Alluka gave him a beaded bracelet that she’d made herself and he’d worn since. Killua gave him a customized hoodie that he was wearing right now. “You gotta have more than one fit at sixteen, Freecss.”
Gon said that he did have other clothes thank you very much, and he wasn’t even wearing the jacket at the party so stop teasing him, Killua—and Killua just smirked and said better late than never, Gon.
The hoodie was green and blue and Aunt Mito called it “your favorite sweatshirt” when she did laundry.
His sixteenth had been special. It was a day Gon held extremely close. It had just been too busy and too crowded for much more than fun. Surface-level fun.
Gon checked his phone; it was well past two in the morning. He idly scrolled to his text conversation with Killua and his heart did something when he noticed their last exchange was three weeks ago.
He typed, deleted. Typed and deleted.
A funny feeling, like a pressure, had been living behind the bridge of his nose since around the time he stopped sleeping like a person. It throbbed, kind of, and Gon resented it.
Three weeks was too long. Gon wanted to talk to Killua. He finally landed on something worth sending.
thinking of u. stars are awesome here tonight
He sighed, rested the phone on his chest, and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t mind falling asleep out here—better than no sleep at all.
He was startled into still being awake by an incoming text. And another.
i did the math, it’s like 2:30 for you. go to bed stupid
thinking of you too
Gon smiled. That weird pressure in his head seemed to relax, just a bit.
i wear joggers now, be proud of me
hell yeah, look at him go! TO SLEEP
i’ll call you when the sun’s up there
It took Gon about fifteen minutes to get back to the house and another three to climb up to the bedroom window. When he flopped down on his bed he was still smiling.
good :) i’ll call if u don’t
and i can’t do math and i won’t care if it’s late there
honestly i probably wouldn’t care either lol
get some rest Gon
Still beaming at the screen, Gon resisted an urge to text back. Killua would just keep telling him to go to bed. That stupid pressure and his racing thoughts both settled into calm, at least for now, and he was pleasantly surprised by the weight of his eyelids.
He yawned and rolled onto his side, pulling the comforter over his shoulders. Half a world away, his best friend cared whether he was sleeping enough. It was a nice thought.
For once, Gon didn’t have to fight so hard for his precious few hours.
✧
“Joggers, huh?”
“Yep. They’re comfortable! I mean, it’s still usually shorts weather on the island, but I got some new pairs that are more—”
“Conventional?” Killua interrupted, one eyebrow teasingly arced.
“Yeah, yeah, what’d you say? ‘Above the knee, not the thigh,’” Gon snickered. “I got some new shoes too, those white and green skate ones you showed me. I’m stylish now, Killua. I never knew I had such a killer fashion sense.”
“Your fashion sense is my fashion sense, idiot. It’s all just things I gave you or told you to get.”
“Maybe, but who knew I could pull it all off?” Gon shot back. Killua rolled his eyes from the screen.
True to his word, he'd called once the math told him Whale Island was awake. Gon had been in the middle of breakfast—Mito startled when he leapt to his feet, but she melted into a smile when he spoke Killua’s name, breathless and radiant with joy. Gon wondered how long it had been since she’d heard him so excited.
“Congrats on dressing like a regular guy, Gon,” Killua said. “I had my doubts, but Alluka always knew you could do it.”
“I’ll have to thank her for her support.”
The world was always a touch brighter when Killua had time to call. Gon would usually describe his home as idyllic, but when he beamed into his phone’s front camera and Killua was smiling back, regaling him with stories of sibling antics and whatever city or village he’d seen last, the sky seemed a little bluer. The sand was softer and the waves refreshingly cool as he strolled barefoot along the shore. He felt more in his element than he had in a while.
Their conversation reached a comfortable lull and Gon yawned contentedly, stretching his free arm and relishing the sun. “It’s been beautiful here lately. I wish my camera was better—last night was so clear.”
“Yeah, when you texted me at three in the morning?” Killua gave him a digital look.
“Two-thirty, but yeah.”
Killua peered out from the screen for a beat like he was searching for something. “You still having trouble sleeping?”
Gon sighed. “Yeah, I guess.” He felt the beginnings of that pressure behind his face. It was faint, but unwelcome as ever. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second. “It’s okay. I’m doing good.”
“Okay,” Killua said gently. He smiled, small and quiet, and Gon was glad he insisted on video calls.
“Hey, uh... it’s been a while, right?" Gon feigned nonchalance, suddenly compelled to ask for something he wasn't sure he could have. It's not a big deal, he thought, or maybe it is but it shouldn't be, so it shouldn't be this hard to say. He was going for relaxed, but it sounded more like shy to his ears.
"...Maybe you guys could visit this spring.”
Killua looked surprised; his eyes went wide for a split second. He looked down, away from his camera like he was thinking, and Gon felt an uncertain swell of anxiety as the moment stretched before him. It felt longer than it was.
But then Killua was looking up again, right at Gon from who knows how far away, his soft smile back in place. “Yeah, that'd be cool. Alluka’s been dying to see the island, and, yeah... it has been a while.”
✧
They talked about it once. It was a little more than a year ago, several months before the birthday party.
Gon hadn’t expected the awkwardness of their first year apart. He’d known he would miss Killua; he felt that right away, even as he sat with Ging atop the World Tree. But for a while their contact felt... off, somehow. Stilted.
Surface-level.
The texts were trivial—more often than not just pictures with brief, inane captions. The updates were short and clinical; Gon, static at home, quickly ran out of those anyway. The calls were few and far between, full of silences neither knew how to fill. Silences with Killua were never uncomfortable before.
More than once Gon meant to say I miss you and the words caught in his throat. He wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t feel good.
Missing Killua evolved from a necessary evil to a constant ache that Gon couldn’t explain. It hurt more the more he turned it over in his head, wondering why they couldn’t connect like they always had in the past. It was most painful when he realized he knew the answer.
That mission was an albatross Gon had hoped to bury. It was too scary, too painful, too much to confront, so he wouldn’t. He wanted to believe he’d processed as much as he had to in the aftermath and he could move on from the whole nightmare.
But sometimes he thought of Kite, and then Pitou, and then the terrifying rage that consumed him from inside out, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Sometimes he thought of Alluka, and Nanika, and he was overwhelmed by the weight of a life debt to a sweet girl he barely knew.
Sometimes he thought of Killua, and eventually Gon couldn’t think of Killua without thinking of what he’d said to him, done to him, made him see. Killua, all moonlight and starlight and electric blue, heartbroken and so, so scared. Guilt and shame discolored every memory.
Gon remembered how little time they’d had after it all happened. How together, unspoken and unconscious, he and Killua seemingly agreed to brush it off. Gon was sorry for what he said and Killua forgave him, water under the bridge. Alluka was so nice and now Killua had a purpose, a promise to fulfill, and they had to go. It made sense, and Gon understood, and one day they’d see each other again when maybe this wouldn’t be too much anymore.
It didn’t stay buried. He hadn’t processed at all, not really. So they talked about it once, and Gon hated that he was crying, hated that Killua was crying too, hated that it was all over the phone and he couldn’t reach out and hug his best friend like he should have when the chance was right there.
It was good. It was necessary. Things got better. But months later, alone with his beaded bracelet and his new hoodie and his thoughts, Gon hated that it still didn't feel like enough. He hated that he was still hurt, still haunted, still missing Killua like a phantom limb.
They talked about it once and Killua swore he really did forgive Gon. Killua didn't blame him. Killua didn't hate him.
When Gon couldn’t sleep he wondered more and more if he just hated himself.
✧
“Aunt Mito! Aunt Mito!” Gon burst through the front door, tracking sand with every step. “They’re coming!”
“Hm?” Mito looked up from the tea she was nursing, half a knowing smile on her face. “Slow down. Who’s coming where?”
“Killua and Alluka! They’re finally visiting!” Gon couldn’t contain himself. The world was too bright, too colorful because Killua would finally be here, Killua and Alluka on Whale Island and his face hurt from smiling so wide. “They’re figuring out dates and everything—he said they’ll come next month and they’ll stay for a while, I’m not sure how long exactly but I said as long as they want—he said Alluka can’t wait to see it, he told her all about it and it’s been so long since he’s been here and he’s coming back, Mito! Killua’s—”
His voice broke.
Killua’s coming here to see me.
His eyes went blurry with tears and he choked on a sob.
“Killua’s... I’m gonna see Killua again, Aunt Mito...”
She was up in an instant, across the room in another, finally pulling her nephew into a hug like she’d hoped against hope for this too. “Oh, Gon,” she said, holding him firmly as he cried onto her shoulder. “You’ve missed him, I know.”
✧✧✧✧