It's A Wonderful Hunter's Life: The Answer

Killua's World

Prologue: Friendship is Wonderful

Within the past hour or so, he had seriously considered giving up his life as a professional assassin. Though, he wasn't sure why he had these thoughts all of a sudden, or even what caused him to have the thoughts. All he knew was that he felt a great desire to protect the person who had just saved his life. The boy, around his age, laying, bleeding out in the middle of the road.

"Gon," He said, "Gon!"

He rushed over to the boy and put his hands on where the bullet had entered the boy's body. He tried to stop the bleeding, which was an unusual feeling for him as he was normally the cause of people bleeding. He never tried to stop any bleeding before, except his own, but that was really easy. This, however, felt like the hardest thing in the universe to do. He looked around at the gathering crowd.

"Call an ambulance," he said loud enough for the crowd to hear him. Nobody moved. He got angry at the crowd and shouted, "Didn't you hear me!? Call a FUCKING AMBULANCE!"

A man in the crowd startled and hurriedly took out his cell phone. The man dialled for an ambulance. It took the ambulance about three minutes to arrive. The paramedics looked towards the boy on the ground and the other boy trying to hold in his blood. One of the paramedics pulled him away from the other boy, much to his protesting and cussing.

"Gon!" He shouted again. Then he grabbed the sleeve of the paramedic that was holding him back. He looked up at the man with tears in his eyes and said, "Please, you've got to save him!"

"Don't worry, kid," the paramedic by the other boy said kindly, "Thanks to you, he'll make it to the hospital. However, we've got to get him there right away, if we want to save his life."

The man got up and went to the ambulance to get the stretcher. He could see what the man had done to save Gon's life for the precious minutes they had to get to the hospital. The paramedic had wrapped Gon's upper torso in gauze. Gon's body was lifted onto the stretcher and placed inside the ambulance. The paramedic holding him back led him to the ambulance and he sat in the back with Gon.

It had been his fault that Gon was like this. And yet, there was nothing that he could have done to prevent it. Thinking back on the situations leading up to the event that changed his life, he realized that never once had he told the other boy to leave him alone. However, when he saw the determination in Gon's eyes when the other boy had declared him his 'best friend', he doubted the boy would have listened to anything other than what he had wanted to hear.

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the doctors and nurses took the stretcher and pushed it through several doors. Most of the doors, he was not allowed to enter. So, one of the nurses took him to a waiting room. Thinking back to only ten minutes ago was just a series of blurs. He remembered hearing Gon call out his name, he remembered being pushed and landing on the sidewalk, he remembered a gunshot. He did not, however, remember the shooter's face. If he did remember the shooter's face, then he would find whoever did this to Gon, and he would kill them.

It was a few hours later when the doctor came into the waiting room. He stood up, wanting to hear good news. He was expecting to hear bad news, but bad news was not what he wanted to hear. The doctor stood there in silence for a few minutes, as if trying to find a way to break bad news to this boy around twelve or thirteen years of age. He braced himself for whatever news the doctor gave.

"The operation," the doctor began, "was a success."

It felt like a weight had been lifted from his heart when the doctor smiled. He slumped back down in his chair, trying to hold in tears of joy. However, he could not control his emotions any longer and the tears flowed freely. The doctor explained that removing the bullet was easy, however, the bullet had lodged itself inside of Gon's body, close to his heart. The doctors had to be really careful not to disturb anything else or Gon might have died.

"If you want to see him," the doctor said, "He is resting in room 110. I doubt he would hear anything, but in my experience, people who talk to their loved ones often comfort them and help them recover sooner."

He wouldn't know if he would go as far as to say Gon was his 'loved one', however, it was obvious that it was the way Gon felt about him. He considered calling Gon that, as well, since Gon was the only one to ever show an ounce of love towards him. If it was anybody else that was with him, he would have taken the bullet and he would have died. Even if his own older brother were with him, the result would be that there was no bullet for his brother. However, Gon had taken the bullet for him and he was still alive.

He entered the room where Gon was recovering from the surgery. Gon looked simply awful compared to just that afternoon. Gon was hooked up to all these machines, one for oxygen, one for fluids and one for his heartbeat. He didn't know Gon very well, but he knew that he didn't wasn't to see Gon like this ever again. It just wasn't Gon. He sat down on a chair beside the bed.

"Hey, Gon," he said, "It's me. Listen, I, uh, I wanted to thank you. F-for saving my life earlier. And, uh, I'm sorry that you had to do that. That bullet was meant for me, Gon, not you. I should have been the one to take the bullet. So why did you?"

He wasn't expecting an answer but he got one anyway, "Because," Gon said weakly, "you're my best friend, Killua. And," he coughed, "and that's what friends do."

Gon closed his eyes and went back to sleep. He was replaying the words 'you're my best friend' in his head and had wondered how many times Gon had said them. Twice. It was twice, now, that Gon had said those words. He thought of how many times he had heard somebody say those words to him. Twice. Twice, in his whole life, he had heard somebody call him in their best friend. He thought of how many times somebody had just called him their friend. Twice. Just twice. The only person to have ever considered him a friend was laying in a hospital bed, recovering from a bullet meant for him.

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A/N: Just wanted to say that just about everytime the word "He" is in here, it is talking about Killua. And no, I will not be using "He" when reffering to Killua all the time. It's too hard for me to do and follow.
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