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Killua is not strong.
Okay, yes, he’s physically robust. The testing gates back home haven’t been a real challenge for him since he was a tot. That’s a byproduct of being a Zoldyck, after all - not to mention the golden boy, the chosen heir to a legacy he has no interest in touching ever again.
Sure, he can knock people out with a simple whack to the back of their neck, and he throws around yo-yos made of a metal alloy that would be a workout for the normal person like they’re made of plastic and string. He could probably throw his sister high enough in the air for her to see every building in this town, and then join her with a singular jump from his muscular lower half.
That’s not even considering his ultra-cool, super amazing nen he’s built up to the point he could hold his own against the royal guard, Youpi. And so what if he’s a little cocky about that now? Godspeed sure leveled the playing field, considering the opponents were a 14-year-old boy and a literal monster who had a seemingly infinite supply of nen. The adults couldn’t even hold a candle to him.
Maybe if he’d been a little older. A little stronger. Had trained a little more diligently, he could have defeated that ugly pink flesh sack. Then, maybe, he could’ve prevented-
Killua shakes his head, resisting the urge to lay a punch against his left cheek, choosing instead to lean it against the cool glass of the window. No. Thinking like that doesn’t help anyone. It makes me weak, open to attack. Blue eyes glance back into the still-dark room of the janky hotel, taking in the two sleeping forms that have yet to stir. Alluka, tangled in her sheets with her mouth open and drool pooling on her pillow, somehow still looking like the princess she is. And on the bed closest to his perch on the window lies Gon, spread out like a starfish, no blankets left on the mattress. He’d kicked them off in the middle of the night as usual, limbs tangled with Killua’s.
No matter. At least this way Killua can sit on the sill wrapped up without a worry of inconveniencing either of his favorite people.
The dark blue of the night, though already polluted by streetlights, is being invaded by the pink streaks of dawn. Killua sighs, tapping one sharp fingernail against the glass softly; another sleepless night. It won’t affect his performance or ability to stay alert. Hah, how could it, when he’s been trained to go weeks without a full night of rest? But he’s grown partial to the relaxed state he achieves in slumber, and the pleasant dreams that are - well, had been - gradually replacing the nightmares of his past.
Gon did that for him. Helped him learn to be more… well, human, he supposes, after a lifetime of molding to be a creature of the dark. Emotionless, without morals, and always, always on guard.
It’s Gon he has to thank for so many things. A crash course in friendship, learning the value of life, how to have fun without seeing blood be shed as a result. Gon taught him how to see the world through the eyes of a child instead of an assassin, and showed him what it meant to want something.
How to love. Not himself, yet. That will take time. But how to love someone else, wholly, deeply, without reservation. And, conversely, how to be loved unconditionally.
But Killua isn’t strong.
Not like Gon is. Gon, who’s gone through so much in the name of meeting his (in Killua’s opinion) deadbeat father. Who’s been traumatized again and again, who’s literally held hands with the grim reaper and still refused to die completely.
Nor is he strong like his sister. His dear, beautiful sister, who spent most of her life locked away in a dungeon with only stuffed animals and herself for company. The family only ever acknowledged her when they wanted something from Nanika; so in that sense, it wasn’t even Alluka they cared to use. Yet here she is, as strong and radiant as ever. Loving, optimistic, and so, so willing to leave herself in the blood-stained hands of her brother.
Purple joins the pink, painted across the skies as if an artist flicked their brush over a canvas from the heavens above.
Pain lances through his mouth as he bites down on the inside of his cheek, still hiding his emotions in case one of them wakes and finds him here. Really, it’s pointless since they both can read him like an open book; Gon less so than Lulu, but still with enough accuracy to throw Killua off-kilter.
Gon.
Gon.
Clenching his fists, Killua huffs out an unsteady breath. He wishes he were strong enough for this, but the simple fact is he isn’t.
He has to leave, or risk being shattered into a million, billion pieces. There was a time he would’ve happily endured such angst and heartache, as long as it meant he remained by Gon’s side.
That’s something he can’t allow anymore, not with Lulu depending on him.
Shit. The telltale burn begins behind his eyes and he lets his lids fall shut, willing the tears away. It hurts. God, it hurts so bad.
Even with everything, he’d stay if he thought there was the tiniest chance that Gon could look into his future and see Killua there. By his side, carefree, the two of them and Alluka traveling together.
But he knows that isn’t the case anymore. He isn’t. He isn’t Gon’s person anymore. It’s done, over with. The irony in it is that all those same doubts he’d had in the beginning of their relationship (am I good enough? Can someone so bright truly see something of worth in a killer like me?) are now ones Gon appears to harbor, if the disaster in the NGL shows anything. No longer was Killua ‘amazing’ or ‘beautiful’; it no longer had to be Killua. Like everyone else, Gon had tossed him aside in fewer words, and that hurt most of all.
Gon was supposed to be different.
A tear shakes free, much to his annoyance, and he brings up a hand to wipe it away roughly. He isn’t as blind to his own issues as people think. He knows he likes to throw himself entirely into someone else to avoid everything he loathes about his own personality. That’s what he did with Gon, and it’s what he’ll do with Lulu. Fine. What does it matter, he’s only 14. He has a long time before he has to work on himself. Bigger fish to fry right now. At least he knows Alluka will meet him halfway if not push back further. Something he’d thought Gon would do - no, something Gon did do, in the beginning.
When did it shift to Killua doing all the giving, and Gon none?
Alluka stirs, a fearful cry falling from her and in a flash, he’s by her side. Like Gon used to do for me. Pale fingers comb through pitch black hair as he whispers soothing words, pulling her head into his lap and wiping away the moisture staining her cheeks.
Fabric rustles and he makes eye contact with eyes the color of golden honey. A finger presses to his lips and he nods toward Lulu, her eyelids scrunching as she sniffs, still asleep. Gon nods, understanding without words, and Killua’s heart bleeds like an open wound.
Later today he’ll say goodbye and no matter how much it hurts, no matter how he feels his heart tear and convulse, he’ll push through.
Not because he’s strong, but because he’s not.
Once Gon rolls back over and his breathing steadies, Killua stops holding back the tears. Each one drops like an anchor, but it’s for the best.
At least, that’s what he tells himself.