Chapter Text
It's been four years.
Four years since he put his all into defying his family and rescuing his sibling in order to save his… Colleague? Friend? Four years since they said their hurried goodbyes and Gon left with Ging to have adventures on his own. The memory was still bitter, despite the passage of time and the fact that Killua wasn't doing so bad either. Having his sisters by his side was amazing, and they had a lot of fun exploring the world together. Alluka was growing into an affectionate, bubbly young woman, which often led people to underestimate her - but she was a Zoldyck all right, her wit was sharp as a razor, despite lacking the nen abilties and malice that usually came with the name. Both she and Nanika got along marvellously. At his sister’s insistent request, they enrolled her into a homeschooling programme that covered the basic school curriculum - and she’d be graduating this summer, much to Killua’s pride. She decided to pursue a career in art, fully supported by both her brother and the otherworldly horror she shared a body with.
She confided in Killua once that the packs of crayons and piles of drawing paper were one of the few things that kept her sane during the long periods of loneliness when she was locked up in the bunker, with only an occasional tray with food being slid through the opening in the door.
Aside from the occasional attempts by Illumi to force them back,it seemed like the clan had largely given up on them, though - and even if it was temporary, they were going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted, while preparing for the worst. The fear of his older brother - drilled into Killua’s very marrow by horrific abuse of both body and mind - was no longer his driving force nor a source of uncontrollable panic anymore. To be fair, this was also mostly thanks to Gon - he was the reason Killua’s defiance of his family’s upbringing, ideals and values solidified into who he was now. If it wasn’t for how much he wanted to stay at Gon’s side and his friends visiting Kukuroo mountain to save him - he’d probably be back to being an obedient puppet, playing the part of the heir and future leader of the Zoldyck clan.
And he would never have become a Hunter either. Yet, here he was - also putting his Hunter’s license to good use - finding jobs that a) did not involve killing people from the get-go, b) paid well, c) weren’t too complicated or long. Ironically, for someone with his level of skill, that meant a lot of gigs that were unattainable for lower-level Hunters, and he had a reputation as the go-to guy for edge-cases, for appropriate remuneration, of course. The connections he developed allowed the siblings to start working towards emancipating from their family and Killiana getting legal guardianship over Alluka. He didn't think that would stop Illumi’s efforts to bring Alluka and Nanika to heel, but at least the law would be on their side, for once.
He kept in touch with the rest of his friends too - even going on jobs with Kurapika and Leorio sometimes. The last one happened recently, actually, since a pair of Kurta eyes surfaced on the black market. They were successful in retrieving them, of course, to Kurapika’s contentment.
The one being the most absent was, of course, the one Killua wanted to hear from the most: Gon. He would occasionally sendt a text or two with a short description of the newest adventure he was on, how he worked to get back his nen, how good things were for him and how it would be great to catch up at one point. He also called on Killua’s birthday to wish him all the best and let him know where he could pick up his gift - but he kept it very brief. The gifts were mostly insignificant trinkets, that the ex-assassin assumed were picked up at some tourist store in Gon’s spare time.
He kept them all.
But he also never reciprocated beyond very laconic information that they were doing okay and a text for Gon’s birthday.
Despite that, you could say that Killua was not doing badly at all.
But…Killua wasn't doing well either.
The memories from the NGL and the war with ants haunted him - in the beginning it actually wasn’t as bad, but within the first year, he started having both flashbacks and nightmares. The nightmares were the worst of the two. He didn’t really have a restful night since before Kite was killed - he slept very little, and frequently woke up drenched in cold sweat, shivering, crying or trying to muffle a scream. Thanks to the powers that be, Alluka seemed to sleep like a stone - or she was just merciful enough to pretend not to wake up.
It’s not like they didn’t talk about the difficult stuff or the past. They spent many late nights discussing their family, the really fucked up shit that happened to them both, about the abuse and pain… But if the conversation started veering towards Gon or the ants, Killua would always find an excuse to not speak about it. These were the memories that gnawed at him and him alone, and he intended to keep it that way. They seemed to be entangled with feelings he was not ready to even name to share with another, even if it were his beloved sisters.
What was he supposed to say anyway? “The rejection from someone whom I considered a friend hurt me so deeply I still can’t get my shit together”? “I wasn’t able to talk my friend out of trying to kill himself for vengeance”? How pathetic could he be, really? Some days, when he was sure his sibling(s) were sound asleep, he'd let hot tears stream down his face, with Gon's cruel words playing on repeat:
"Must be nice for you, Killua. You can stay so calm and detached. Since it’s none of your business ."
The emptiness in Gon’s eyes when waiting for Pitou. The monstrous form with billowing hair - turning away from him and choosing death.
‘He chose death instead of you’ - whispered a part of Killua’s mind, one that he desperately tried to keep silent.
Today was particularly bad, too - it was one of those days when, no matter what you do your mind is out for you, determined to make you relive the most gut-wrenching experiences. And in Killua’s case… They were all linked to Gon. The fourth anniversary of the events was coming, and as every year, it exacerbated his poor mental state. It was to the point of feeling Gon's withered, blackened skin under his fingertips, the nauseating scent of rot and blood overwhelming his senses, the sinking pit in his stomach when Gon was pummeling Pitou into the ground, sending viscera and blue ichor everywhere. He held himself in an iron grip until Alluka went to sleep (though he was pretty sure she noticed something was more wrong than usual) and snuck out of the house. This one was a nice, small lakeside property they rented until the start of summer, secluded and cozy, surrounded by a dark wood. Usually, taking a stroll through nature and shifting his attention from the hell inside helped. But today the darkness was oppressive, not soothing - and he stood there, with the trees looming over his form, a single bright point in the vastness of the dark. Gon’s face looking at Kite’s animated corpse. Palm telling him Gon needed him. Gon’s arm flying off and hitting the ground with a disgusting squelch. Gon’s his expression when he urged them to hurry under the World Tree, all giddy to join Ging…
‘And ditch you, you’ve served your purpose, didn’t you?’ - piped up his brain, with vindictive glee. ‘You just aren’t capable of having friends, you know. Illumi is a prick, but he was right about that’
He took out his phone, looking for a distraction, looking for something to save him, maybe a text he missed… Anything to remind him that that was not true, that he did have friends and maybe - just maybe - he wasn’t as unlovable as he was made to believe by both his family and his friend.
But there was nothing. All the last exchanges were work-related. He leaned against a tree, looking up at the starless sky. Of course there aren’t any today, he thought to himself, jadedly. Tears welled up in his eyes, so he closed them, trying to stop himself from crying. The air was surprisingly clammy, but he was cold and short of breath. There was a tightness in his chest and stomach, as if a steel rope was trying to cut him in two. He slid down, pulling his knees against his chest and curling up. His breathing was getting faster and shallower, tears just rolling down his cheeks, his body shivering. He bit down on his arm, trying to stifle the sobs, but to no avail. He cried and cried, pouring out an unstoppable current of pain, betrayal and feelings he himself wasn't sure he understood. As his sobs started to die down from exhaustion, he realized he had been hearing a familiar voice calling his name... The teen turned his head around to see and sense, but he was alone - neither sight nor en revealed anyone.
"...Killua? Killua!?"
“'Oh no... The phone.” He muttered to himself with dismay, pulling the device out of his pocket, dreading having butt-dialed Gon's number. That would at least solve all his problems instantly - he’d just die of embarrassment and be done with it.
To his immense relief, that was not the name on display. The call had been going on for 7:56, though. That was going to be awkward.
"Kurapika?" - he raised the mobile to his ear, trying to remove all traces of tears from his voice. "Yes, yes, m’ here. What's going on?"
The reply was a soft scoff. "I've been on the line for…- there was a short pause - over 8 minutes” - there was a longer pause - “And... I know how it feels to weep your eyes out like that."
The young assassin froze, but Kurapika continued in a very gentle tone, as if he was speaking to a wild animal, that could be startled by the tiniest sudden sound. "I know this is not something you're used to, but I am your friend. Leorio is your friend. Either of us would drop everything in a second to help you - just like you did for us."
The fact that Gon was not mentioned demonstrated pointedly that Kurapika was probably the sharpest one of the four, avoiding the incendiary topic.
- “I…I don’t know.” - replied Killua, in a tiny voice. He felt numb, tiny and alone.
- “You don’t know what? If we’re your friends? I will understand if you don’t want to share, but you’re not alone anymore. We are your friends, Killua. And we do want to help”.
That was the breaking point. Words of shame, anger and hurt flooded out of the white-haired man’s mouth as if the invisible dam holding them back crumbled. The pain of being shut off and not being given the chance to help. The torture of being dismissed. Seeing someone you care for almost die - and being ready to sacrifice your life for them only to be ditched for a bigger, more important adventure.
And worst of all… Thinking this is exactly what you deserved, because you’ve been told your whole life that you’re not much more than a perfectly calculated and measured murder machine, lacking the ability to have any genuine feelings towards another human being.
“Your only joy is causing death, and even that is fleeting.” - this time, his inner voice sounded exactly like Illumi. And it was no wonder, given how many times he heard that exact phrase from his older sibling’s lips.
He yelled into the phone until his voice became hoarse and turned into a whisper. There was silence on the other side. “Killua…” - Kurapika finally spoke. The Kurta man sounded calm, but his voice was laced with worry.
- “I knew there were things that pained you, but I never knew how deeply. I’m so sorry you’ve been alone with this burden until now. I’m truly sorry. I wish I had asked sooner.“
- “I would have just brushed you off and told you not to worry.” - Killua half-laughed between the last sobs. - “But… Please, let’s pretend this didn’t happen.”
- “Do you genuinely believe this is the correct choice of action? I am quite sure there are ways we can make the situation better.” - answered Kurapika, cautiously.
- “Better it how? Cure me of my big sad from an unrequited friendship or take Gon’s head from between his buttcheeks?” - Killua sighed - “I don’t think there’s a way for me to make him acknowledge the damage he did. He was always stubborn and had it his way.” Kurapika chuckled - “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Have you tried talking to him about all this? It has been four years.” The deafening silence on the other side of the phone was the only answer. - “ I understand. Can I convince you to at least think about it?” The ex-assassin huffed - ” I have. He’s never reached out with more than “how are you, I’m in x having this amazing adventure that you’re not a part of”. Thank you for hearing me out, though. This… Surprisingly helped.”
- ”I’m glad it did. But… You realise this can’t go like this forever, right?”
- “I’m pretty sure it can. Goodnight, Kurapika.”
There was a short silence and then a sigh - “Goodnight. Say hello to Alluka from us.”
-“Sure thing!”
He disconnected the call and stared at the device for a long moment, before making his way back to his room. He slept that night. And the nightmares - bad as they were - only woke him once or twice.