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iv.
Gon turns to Killua, the sunset in his lashes. He's lit up orange and bright, more sun than human. In the wavy reflection of sunlight on the ocean, Gon stands alone, magnificent.
Killua holds his breath, because some part of him knows instinctively that something is about to change.
"I love you," Gon says, simply. It's another noise among the waves against the shore, another feeling that hits Killua square in the chest. It's an anchor. Killua is going to hold onto this moment for the rest of his life.
"Gon," he starts, and stumbles. "I—"
He can't accept. He knows this like he knows the way it feels to lie in the snow on Kukuroo Mountain. He's just too cold.
i.
A lot of things happen between Killua's separation from Gon, and their reunion back on Whale Island.
First, there's Alluka.
Whenever Killua wakes up, he finds himself thinking about Alluka first, where they're going and if she and Nanika will be happy with it. He spends his time twisting through thoughts, wondering if he's a good enough brother for her, wondering if he’ll ever be more than the boy who abandoned her. Becoming a new person is hard, even if it's for someone he loves.
The world is too big for the two of them to see all of it, but they see as much as they can. Killua even uses his Hunter License to get them into places that are cool and interesting but still safe, and holds Nanika’s hand the whole time, letting her witness things that most people don’t, and then flies them out with new memories.
This isn’t enough to be satisfied; Killua stands on the precipice of everything he wants to be but isn’t.
Killua was molded by his family’s hands. Being with Alluka and Nanika just reminds him every day that he may not want to take over the family, but he still has habits that come from them, difficult to uproot things that haunt him. Some of them are good habits, and some of them leave him trembling for reasons he doesn’t understand.
Alluka tells him that it’s okay. Every time she notices him go quiet and vacant she squeezes his fingers until they hurt, until he can breathe again. She tries to hide her fear but he can practically sense it; he’s never good enough at pushing his own fear down for her sake.
Everything about himself is disconnected from everything else. This world was not made for the children of assassins and the girls with power bigger than anyone else, and Killua hates it.
He doesn’t want to be like Illumi. He keeps thinking he sees Illumi in the corner of his eye. He checks his body for needles every few months. He holds Nanika and thinks never again, never again.
And most of all, he doesn’t mention this to Gon when they send each other emails.
The happy, bright spots with his sisters are always easier—the same way Gon tells Killua about the bright spots on Whale Island, the people he’s reconnecting with, and when he leaves the island to spend time with Kite, he lets Killua know.
So Killua tells Gon about the way the sky looks at night on the mountains, and about how cold the rivers are, and how many hotels and restaurants he and Alluka have been to. The world is so big, he thinks, and yet he doesn’t leave on a boat to explore further than the known map. He doesn’t search for a grand adventure without Gon—he lets the fun times come to him slowly, on this rocky journey.
Gon, for what it’s worth, doesn’t leave the known world either. He goes back to Whale Island after Kite’s research is over for the season, and then waits, continuing to live his life the way he had before.
Killua doesn’t know if Gon is waiting for Killua to come visit, or for something else.
ii.
Reunion is sweeter and easier than Killua ever expected.
Killua lets out a breath when he sees Gon—he doesn’t run for him, but he lets himself get dragged forward by Alluka, standing in front of Gon and thinking, God, I missed him so much.
Killua feels every emotion—relief and joy and hope bursting together into an emotion that almost feels like fear in his anticipation—and it’s all so much that it stops him right here, waiting for Gon to move first. He’s waiting for something, but he doesn’t know what he wants from Gon anymore. His heart squeezes painfully, and Killua remembers before.
But Gon grins at him and offers to race him to his house, and Killua can’t possibly deny someone like him. Even now, even with Alluka, even if Killua still isn’t who he wants to be—if Gon is the same, Killua will run to be with him, run all the way over the hills with Alluka in his arms.
He turns around and calls, “I won!”
When Gon’s flushed, joyous face appears a moment later at the crest of the hill, Killua knows it’s over for him, and always will be.
iii.
The first night on Whale Island, Killua has a nightmare.
He holds Gon’s shriveled hand, curled into his hospital bed. Killua brings Gon’s hand closer to his face, presses his forehead against Gon’s skin and closes his eyes and hopes for something to change.
And then Gon moves, clutching Killua’s face and tilting his head back, and Gon is staring at him with sad, empty eyes as the bandages fall away. He’s saying, Kite is dead because of me, Kite is dead because of us. I’m going to fight it, but I’m always going to go alone.
And Killua wrenches away in horror, a pit in his stomach. Weren’t they supposed to stay friends?
He wakes up with ash in his mouth. Something long-dead has come back to haunt him, and he lies for an hour staring at Gon’s ceiling, in Gon’s house, and wishes for a moment that Gon won’t come to wake him up, to spend time with him all day and remind Killua of this long gone version of him that only lives in Killua’s mind.
vi.
They're going together, Killua and Gon and Alluka, to meet up with Leorio and Kurapika, and everyone those two have met and want to bring along.
The airship has rooms with three beds, clean and temporary. Killua feels weird about sharing a room with Gon, but he gives in because Nanika likes Gon the same way everyone always gets brought into Gon's orbit. Alluka has more than enough space to spread out the way she likes on her bed, or to take up all the room between Killua's bed against one wall and Gon's against the other.
Killua thinks about leaving the room. Someday his feelings will spill over, and he doesn’t want that to happen on this trip, in the midst of all of this newfound joy.
Lying in bed is boring; Gon and Alluka talk, and Killua adds his own thoughts sometimes, but mostly he feels like leaving Whale Island the day after Gon confessed to him might make his heart explode. So when Killua exhausts any excuse he can give himself to stay here, he leaves.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” he says to Alluka, who gives him a cheerful wave.
Killua wanders the halls alone. The airship is floating smoothly through the skies—it’s nothing special, and since it’s meant to be taken overnight there’s not much in the way of entertainment. So he walks alone and counts his steps, and tries not to think.
He stops by the window. His reflection looks sad, and noticing it makes his eyebrows twist down into a more petulant frown.
Maybe he misses Gon. He wishes he hadn’t ruined everything.
Every moment they're apart, he wishes more and more that he'd accepted something that he doesn't know how to accept. Somehow, if he was warmer, if Gon had asked him after they left instead of before—
Because they've changed. Because Killua loves Gon anyway. Because Killua had tried to stop being desperate and lonely without Gon, and failed every time.
“Hey!”
When Killua turns, surprised, Gon is beaming, and Killua’s chest catches.
“Hey,” Killua says, and waits for Gon to catch up. He could never leave Gon behind if he tried. “Did you leave Alluka?”
Gon shrugs. “She told me to go look for you.”
“Jeez, that girl…” Killua sighs. If Alluka wanted to see him, she would’ve gone herself, but instead she sent Gon. Either she’s sick of them tiptoeing around each other since the confession she doesn’t know anything about, or she wants to be alone for a minute. As much as he wishes it was the latter, he has a feeling it’s the former.
“I think she’s worried about you,” Gon says.
Killua shoots Gon a look. “She doesn’t have any reason to be worried. Did she say anything else, or did she just want you to follow me around?”
“I think she noticed that you’re acting differently, I guess. I told her already that you’ll be fine when we see Leorio and Kurapika, though! Of course she’s excited to see them, but I’m pretty sure she just wants you to spend more time with your friends!”
Killua looks away. It’s embarrassing to have it laid out like that; he isn’t lonely. Having Alluka and Nanika with him was enough for him—and even then, there’s also Gon, Leorio, Kurapika, Ikalgo, and everyone else. But he can almost understand why Alluka would be worried, if she thinks Killua has been weird since they landed on Whale Island.
That is still not something to bother herself with, though.
He shakes his head—he can’t deal with it that easily, but he can try to explain something of it to her. “I’ll go back to our room and see if she needs anything.”
“You don’t have to,” Gon says quickly. “Avoid me, I mean.”
“What?” Killua startles, clenching his fingers into a fist and then unclenching it. “I’m not avoiding you. I came with you in order to be with you.” It sounds more intentional when he says it like that—being with Gon like he’s about to say the bubbly feeling underneath his ribcage out loud, about to confess the part of him that’s been locked there since he was twelve and Gon looked at him in a way that made Killua’s heart stop for the very first time.
Gon gives him a long glance, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I told you I love you,” he says, matter-of-fact.
“Yeah, so? I’m still not avoiding you.”
It’s not that. Not at all. Instead, it’s the burning center of their relationship, the space between.
Gon blinks. “But I thought…” He shakes his head, and whatever he had thought gets shaken off too. “If you say so, Killua. It’ll make me sad if you don’t spend time with me. You don’t have to, but—while we’re here.” His gaze wanders to the railing on the side of the hallway, then to the large windows.
Killua doesn’t think he means the airship.
“Yeah, of course,” Killua says, and it comes out soft and warm. He wonders if Gon can feel the love coming from Killua, or if he’d already killed it by rejecting Gon’s feelings.
vii.
Leorio crushes Killua in a hug right after releasing Gon. He’s still way taller than both of them, the gangly man in all his glory; Kurapika has a smile that radiates a kind of joy that makes Killua’s heart warm. Here it finally is—the four of them together again. Six, including Alluka and Melody. Leorio and Kurapika apparently had more people they wanted to bring too, but it was busy, September bringing work and responsibilities.
“You grew!” Leorio exclaims.
“Of course I grew,” Killua says, grinning. “You think I’d stay that small forever? Watch out, I’ll catch up to you.”
Everything slots into place. Alluka sticks to Killua’s side, and opts for a handshake instead of a hug from Leorio. Kurapika has a tired but warm gaze, and he and Melody talk about their work in ways that sound hopeful, and calm, and like the storm they’ve been weathering has ended.
Killua breathes in hope and exhales nervousness. He knows he’s staring at Gon—who is moving his arms wildly as he talks about Kite, and a little bit about Mito and Ging. Killua can’t help it, not when Gon is so lively and bright, and everything about the two of them hinges on the things Killua can’t say out loud, no matter how much he adores Gon.
And oh, he adores Gon with so much warmth. The awkwardness doesn’t change that.
“And what about you, Killua, Alluka?” Kurapika asks.
Killua catches Gon’s eye when his gaze turns to him. Everything explodes in color; Gon is smiling at him with lightly flushed cheeks, and Killua rips his gaze away because he doesn’t want to be caught staring, even if he wants to keep looking.
“It’s nothing interesting,” he tells Kurapika. “We were just traveling. But we got so many pictures—I can send some to you.”
He hopes that nobody notices the awkwardness and distance between him and Gon—the things between them that Kurapika and Leorio never saw, and might not even understand if they talked about it. Is it possible for Killua to love Gon genuinely when he's still scared he'll always be chasing Gon's shadow, the boy who saved him when he was eleven and didn't know anything outside the stiff cold of the Zoldycks, the barriers he placed over his heart?
Killua doesn't know. Sometimes he wonders if he ever will; if he doesn't come up with an answer now he thinks it'll fall away into the darkness, never to return.
viii.
Half curled under the blankets that night, Alluka leans her head on Killua’s shoulder. “Did you have fun?” she asks, sleepy. “I don’t want you to be lonely. You should’ve told me you wanted to see your friends.”
Killua lets out a gentle laugh. “I did, but I also wanted to do all that stuff with you.”
Alluka hums. “What about Gon?”
“You know that it’s complicated,” Killua huffs. She’s too perceptive to not know how much Killua thought about Gon, how he hung onto every phone call. “I was happy to see him here too, though. And seeing Leorio and Kurapika, even Melody, it’s always good. It’s been a long time.” Maybe this whole time he has been lonely. He’d been waiting for Gon to want him back, and that moment came too fast for him to process.
The idea that Gon loves him—enough to confess the day after they see each other in person again—it’s too much. It’s more than Killua has ever deserved.
Even now, Killua is just avoiding it. He ran away when really he just wanted Gon to ask him to stay. This feeling of missing Gon came from more than just rejecting his confession. It’s an avalanche of feelings that doesn’t stop piling on top of each other—all the things he wants to accept, but can’t accept. The cold seeping into every part of Killua since they separated.
But Gon knows; the snow on Kukuroo Mountain melts in spring. Everything Killua used to be doesn’t have to be what he is now.
Alluka sighs against Killua’s shoulder. “Sorry for keeping you from your friends for so long,” she says quietly. Even as tired as she is, her guilt is still there, floating up to the surface in her words. It makes Killua’s heart tighten, because as much as he’s tried to change himself to become someone better, he’s never been able to heal the things that hurt the two of them.
“Hey, that’s not it.” Killua reaches out to squeeze her hand. “It’s nothing to do with you. It’s my choice, and it just means I’m glad we came. It’s really important that we came, and we will again, and again, and again, until you become sick of seeing my friends.”
“Next time, you should tell them you want to see them first.”
This is what makes Alluka so special—it’s such a simple thing for her to say, and it’s so true. She means everything to Killua. “You’ll need to hold me to it.” He still doesn’t know how to face Gon. Every moment they’re together is another moment that Killua knows he should say something, but can’t—he doesn’t want to ruin this. If their friendship crumbles, what will he have left?
Alluka squeezes his hand back. Killua lets out the breath from his lungs.
ix.
Killua takes the candy bar offered by Gon, and lets their fingers brush against each other.
Gon laughs immediately, and Killua glares at him. “What?” Killua asks, holding the candy bar close to his chest as if Gon is about to take it away.
“Your fingers—” Gon grins. “It’s like static electricity. That’s awesome.”
The darkness is held back only by a single bulb above their heads; the balcony at night is a strange place where they can pass around chocolate or secrets, and none of it will matter when Leorio, Kurapika, or Melody come to get them. Right now, Killua could say what he really thinks, and maybe Gon would forgive him.
He shakes that thought off as soon as it arrives.
There’s static running through his whole body when he’s around Gon. He’s hyper-aware of what they are, not just because of the confession, but because of who Killua is. It’s not as easy as Gon just accepting Killua as he is—as he always has—but whether Killua is even able to allow Gon to do that.
Gon sits next to Killua on the flimsy chairs, turning toward Killua.
For a second Killua thinks that maybe he should get rid of the internal clock ticking down their time together and ask for forever, before that wish gets drowned in all the other feelings—a distance between them that Killua is more aware of than ever. His smile is perfect; his eyes squint at the corners in a way that makes Killua want to ask him to smile forever.
Has Gon ever thought something like that about Killua?
Killua doesn’t ask that, but he does turn his head toward his friend and say, “You’ve kept talking to Kite, right? Didn’t you say he wanted to come meet with us?”
“Oh, yeah.” Gon blinks. “He was busy, or else I’d have brought him along to meet the others, but we met up a couple times, actually. He came to Whale Island the first time—I don’t think I told you, actually—but when I joined his research team for a couple months last spring, it was weird.” Gon looks down at his hands. “It was weird to be a Hunter without you. And everyone else, too.”
Killua’s heart beats rapidly.
He wants to be special to Gon, the same way Gon is special to him. He doesn’t want to run away from this moment, the light on Gon’s profile—the beauty that he holds so naturally, because Gon is always himself, whether with Killua, Kite, or anyone else.
Killua doesn’t know how he became part of Gon’s life in the first place, much less became someone that important to him.
“Did you miss me?” Killua asks. It comes out blunt, almost teasing.
“Yeah,” Gon grins at him, familiar in its charm but unfamiliar with how it rests on his face—they’ve changed so much Killua might lose himself in trying to map out Gon’s face again. “Every single day.”
Killua swallows. “Is that why you love me?”
“I guess. But it’s also because I can remember what it was like when I was with you. I knew you would stay with me until you found something different—I guess I didn’t realize how much that mattered until it was too late.”
“That’s not love,” Killua says. He wishes, though, that it was love. “That’s just because we’re friends.”
Gon shrugs, leaning back in his uncomfortable chair, turns his head toward the artificial lightbulb. “I think it’s love. I know it’s love.” His smile is unyielding even in this weird space, and then he reaches over to Killua, across the gap between their chairs. “If it’s not love, then why do I want to hold your hand right now?”
Killua’s heart jumps again.
“Idiot,” he says, and holds Gon’s hand. His fingers are slightly cold in the night, and Killua hopes he’s not sparking static between them now. “I missed you too, but I don’t—I can’t,” Killua says, cutting himself off. “It’s not that easy.”
“I know,” Gon says. And the night continues; Killua doesn’t ask Gon any more questions, and Gon doesn’t ask Killua to know what this is.
xi.
Killua and Gon sit side by side on a bench in an airship back to Whale Island. They’d said goodbye to their friends and Killua hadn’t wanted to leave, even if Kurapika promised to email them both for once in his life. Alluka had grasped Killua’s hand, and he’d blurted out that he’d make sure they’d see each other again soon, and then they’d left, lingering in the airport.
The window is dark, the light having been sucked out from the distant sky. “I might drag you down,” Killua says.
A pause. He waits, tense, for this to crash down around him.
Gon frowns at him for a long moment. “I don’t mind,” he says, finally. “I think I’m more likely to drag you down, actually. I’m better than I used to be, but I’m not perfect.” He looks at Killua and the world is soft, hooked on Killua’s heart.
Killua makes a noise of acknowledgement and slumps down, chin on his arms.
“Hey, Killua. If I do anything that hurts you again…”
“Don’t say that.”
“Mmm. But I might.” Gon doesn’t sound upset at all, which makes him feel almost distant, though Killua feels like they’re closer than before. It’s coming into focus, like a foggy window being wiped away. “I could never forgive myself if I hurt you again. And I thought about it a lot before telling you that I love you, because…” he drifts off, then repeats it. “Because.”
Killua can fill in the gaps; because of the ants. Because of who they used to be. Because of this has nothing to do with you.
But it has everything to do with Killua. Gon wouldn’t say he loves Killua unless he knew that, so Killua looks at Gon and smiles, and wonders what Gon sees on his face. Killua can handle that kind of unknown, as long as Gon’s feelings aren't unknown too.
“I could forgive you,” he says. “I forgave you once already. Just make sure to apologize.”
“Always,” Gon says seriously, but a second later his reflection in the window splits into a grin at Killua’s unintentionally sappy smile.
v.
The setting Whale Island sun is blinding behind Gon, and Killua feels the anchor in his chest holding him down and present, and he’s reminded suddenly of all that he’s not.
“I can’t,” Killua says, looking away from Gon and the sudden confession, and instead at his shoes, at the dirt, at the shadows. The world is turning red in sunset, and Killua will one day be washed away as part of it. “I have to be certain, first,” he continues, desperate for Gon to understand that this rejection isn’t his fault. “I’m not, right now.”
What he’s certain of, most of all, is how Gon glows, and how much he wants to capture this moment in the palms of his hands and keep it still, without saying anything else.
“Oh! Okay,” Gon says, with a nervous laugh.
“It’s not—!” Killua starts, but doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to smooth this over. He can’t meet Gon’s eyes, can’t face the disappointment. “I’ve been focused on Alluka,” he says, as if that’s an explanation; while they were apart he’s thought of Gon so often it burns a hole within him.
It’s the easy answer, even if it’s a wrong one.
“You don’t have to explain,” Gon says. “I’m not going to force you to like me back. We can be friends like normal.”
But normal is so far away it hurts. They’ve been wandering the world separately and only come back together now for their friends, and Killua knows he’s not enough. Not enough for friendship, or romance, or whatever Gon wants from him.
This is the first thing Gon has asked from him since long before they separated. Killua can’t even remember what it was he last did for Gon that wasn’t just selfishly holding onto him, he only remembers being determined to stop things from going wrong with the chimera ants. The absence of that spiraling sensation feels hollow, like their relationship will never be the same as Killua expects; he’s halfway to expecting things to go back to Gon leaving him if he accepts his own part in this love, even though Gon isn’t like that anymore.
Killua swallows down the taste of ash and death. “Gon,” he says, a secret he doesn’t understand forming on his lips, unasked for, “you deserve better than that.”
What he really means, but can’t say, is: you deserve better than me.
A momentary hurt flickers on Gon’s face, and he cuts down that thought in an instant. “You can turn me down.”
Killua’s heart twists. The awkwardness has lodged itself there like a knife. “That’s not what I meant,” he says, hands in his pockets. “We can be friends like normal, for now. I’ll… give you a proper answer. I promise.”
But he doesn’t know what that answer will be, even though he knows what his feelings are.
In a few days they’ll leave Whale Island, and then the two of them and Alluka will go to meet with Leorio and Kurapika. He has until the end of their reunion to figure out what this is—whatever hesitation is lingering in his chest against the love that blooms when Gon hesitantly smiles at him again, still more sun than human.
x.
The last day of their reunion is a long day where the six of them walk around town together, buying souvenirs and eating lunch at a restaurant that has Leorio cringing at the price, because even after becoming a Hunter he’s still one to save his pennies. There’s a beautiful world to see and Killua wants to see it with his friends, to stay by their sides.
But right now, there’s something else he has to do. Something more important than letting their group walk forward all together.
“Gon, I—” Killua takes a breath. “Can I talk to you alone?”
Kurapika looks only slightly surprised. Leorio’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. Melody looks relieved. Alluka doesn’t do anything other than tilting her head.
Gon opens his mouth, then closes it. And then, “I—yes! Yes, of course.” His face is slightly pink.
“Great,” Killua says, shifting his weight. He glances between the others, unsure of what to say. “We’ll be back,” he offers, and then reaches forward to grab Gon’s arm and pull him away from the others, settling into the shade. It’s an eating area here, with wooden park benches to sit on near to a restaurant, but Killua is too anxious to sit down, so he stops in front of one and waits, shifting his weight on the grass. Gon stops right before him.
The sunset isn’t in Gon’s eyes right now. The sun is only just beginning to fall, the sky going lilac at the horizon—Killua wonders if this was a good idea, or if he’s going to tie himself into knots.
They wait in silence for a long moment. So long that Gon ends up cracking a smile first. “My heart is beating really hard,” he says.
Killua almost collapses right there. “Wh—You can’t just say that!”
“But it’s true! I guess this is how you felt.”
Killua looks away. It’s awful how accurate it is, how much Killua felt he needed to hide himself from Gon’s gaze as soon as the confession came out. He doesn’t know what to do, or how to reciprocate; he just stands here, feeling his love grow from his chest outward toward Gon. “It’s probably not exactly the same,” he says, deflecting. “But I have an answer for you. A real one.”
“Tell me.”
Killua glances at Gon and is faced with Gon’s flushed face. It’s so much that he immediately looks away again. “I love you. And I got scared when you confessed.”
“Oh, good,” Gon says. “I was worried.”
Killua swallows. As much as Gon’s tone is light, he wonders if Gon knows how much this has hurt, trying to find the part of himself that can accept that he’s still in love with him. Gon loves him—but it’s so different, an entire ocean between who they were and who they are now. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”
Gon’s mouth opens, then shuts.
Killua continues, looking away from Gon. “And I should have said that the moment you confessed, I know.” But all those feelings were built on the idea of what used to be. Gon had been everything to Killua, and now it’s strange, off-center.
“Why didn’t you?” Gon asks.
He hesitates, but when he speaks, what comes out is a raw truth. “I wanted the reason you called me back—to Whale Island or wherever you would be—to be for me, not because Leorio and Kurapika called us over,” Killua says, quietly. “I wanted you to need me. I wanted things to be just like they used to be, and that was—terrifying.”
“I do need you,” Gon says. “You were the one I wanted to see most out of anyone. Because I love you, and because you’re my best friend, and because I still—I always look for things you’d like, you know?” Gon grins a little larger. “I probably forgot most of them now, but that’s not important. I wanted you by my side this whole time.”
Killua holds on to those words. His heart begins to turn, something inside him reviving. Since the confession, every neglected feeling of his has woken up. “Gon…”
“Can I tell you something?” Gon waits for Killua’s nod, and then continues, “I was scared too.”
Killua lets out a breath. The thought of Gon being scared when he’s so bright in his confidence, so bright he might swallow Killua up in his light—it feels odd, when Killua is still stuck repeating his own feelings, even the ones he knows he should leave behind. Being around Gon makes him scared of repetition; he just doesn’t want to end up in that hospital room again.
“I know you were,” Killua says, even though he wasn’t sure. When they separated, he was sure there was something uneasy there, and despite all the calls they’ve exchanged, of course the fear would linger.
Gon has a furrow between his eyebrows. “I realized one day that if I didn’t confess that you’d never know. That I’d just be waiting for you to come back and want to be my friend again before I could ever say that I love you, and that maybe we’d never really be close ever again. Saying I love you was easier than waiting. It’s more important that you know that I care about you. Otherwise I thought I might really lose you.”
It doesn’t make any sense. In Killua’s mind, love is something that could pull them apart even more, a dangerous emotion that he never let himself say until now. But it’s also just like Gon, to say the simple thing and forget the rest.
“I didn’t think you’d ever love me back,” Killua says.
Gon smiles, more awkward than sweet. “I know. But that’s why I had to tell you.”
Killua sucks in a breath. He thinks about the world dyed red by sunlight, about how all of Killua’s doubts stuck in his throat and drowned out anything he could accept from Gon. If he wants to put his feelings into words, he has to do it now; a real answer. To know who he is right now, and to know that he’s still waiting for someone like Gon.
“I really do want to… be with you,” Killua says. He doesn’t know what else to say. His face is burning, but he holds out his hand, like they did before between their chairs on the balcony.
Gon takes it. His hand is warm. “I’m glad,” he says. And he seems to know, without asking, what Killua means with that, because Killua can’t seem to get out any more words even as he begins to calm down from the pressure of it all. “Should we go back? I don’t want the others to wait for us.”
Killua breathes in. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
As they begin to walk, they keep holding hands. Killua grasps Gon’s hand tighter. It’s hard on Killua’s fluttering heart, but Killua can feel Gon’s warmth seeping into him, the tension falling from him the longer they hold this one point of contact. He thinks about what it means to miss Gon, and to have Gon miss him in return; he wonders how long it’ll take them to get back to where they once were.
He glances at Gon out of the corner of his eye. The second time he dares to do it, they meet eyes, and Killua doesn’t know who starts to grin first, because suddenly they’re both laughing.
When he catches his breath, Killua can’t stop smiling. “You don’t have to, but will you come with me after we get back to Whale Island?”
“Where would we go?” Gon asks, but his brown eyes are wide and bright; there’s a spark in them that Killua hasn’t seen in far too long, and this time it doesn’t feel like it’ll burn him.
“Dunno. Anywhere. Alluka and Nanika choose where to go sometimes, so you can too. We can all go together. It doesn’t have to be forever,” he adds, “but it can be for—for however long you want. And we can see more of our friends, like Ikalgo or Bisky, and see whatever countries you haven’t been to.”
Gon is radiant. “That sounds perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“I’d be sad if we didn’t get to hang out more,” Gon says. “Because I love you.”
And Killua does too, and he doesn’t even hide his reddening face from Gon’s eyes. They walk back to the others still holding hands, and even though Killua waits for Gon to pull away, Gon stays holding his hand even while waving to the others and saying they can keep moving now.
xii.
Whale Island looks small from afar, surrounded by the white sails of boats. Nearby, Nanika watches the seabirds overhead in the blue sky, the rocking sea not bothering her the way it does Alluka.
“Isn’t it great?” Gon says from beside him, leaning both arms on the railing and tilting his body forward, keeping his weight balanced perfectly to not fall forward. “I don’t regret spending so much time back home. Even if Ging hadn’t told me to take it easy, it was good there.” He glances upward to the sky and smiles wide. “I can leave for real now. It’s good to be with you again.” He looks over at Killua and his smile widens.
Killua’s heart flips. “Same here.”
Something in Killua has become unanchored, free to move and love in a way he used to think himself incapable of. There’s uncertainty, too—but Killua has accepted this part of himself, enough to escape where he came from just a bit more.
They’re together. They don’t have to miss each other anymore; there’s a ball of warmth deep in Killua’s chest, and it will never be extinguished.