"The stray."

That phrase had come to Killua's mind as he stared out into the street earlier that evening. Balmy spring air hung like damp navy in the gaps between glowing streetlights. It was evening, and the cup that had held his chocolate milkshake was almost empty. He had been sitting in this diner for half an hour now, just contemplating things.

It was cheesy, but in a sense that phrase that came to Killua's mind had seemed to encompass him in so many ways. How dramatic of him, to envision himself a wanderer, a floating presence through life, anchored to nothing. He had slurped the last of the milkshake one last time, the harsh resulting sound disturbing his thoughts.

Though even regular customers would have waited for the bill, he had left a few bills on the table, tip, tax, and some extra included, and had headed out the door without waiting for his change. With nowhere in particular to be, his brisk walk had given him an air of purpose.

Such his days had went. Moving from place to place, stopping to observe or contemplate with detachment. If there had been even a hint of yearning in his wanderings at the beginning, none of it remained now. After being homeschooled all his life and now loose in the wide world, life held no direction for him, and were he to discard his past, he would be throwing himself into a future that did not exist. He had kept moving under the pretense of discovering some sort of purpose with moving forward, but months had passed of traveling all over the place, taking in the world but letting it pass through him. Now he was on some remote Pacific Island, further from his "home" than ever.

Never once did a twinge of homesickness cross his heart. He had no desire to follow in his father's footsteps of being an assassin. Illumi had already filled that role, of being molded in his father's image, although with Illumi there was that strangeness of temperament? values? scruples? No doubt that side came from his unstable, overbearing mother, although Killua felt that his father wasn't particularly a morally concerned person either.

Homesick or not, Killua was not planning to ever return "home." He didn't have much anywhere else to go, and thus did he wander. The more distance he had covered, the more his purpose in being here seemed to dilute. Instead, it was as if he had been marching in place, a desire for autonomy and direction deep in his heart, but nothing in this world to grasp him. He couldn't imagine something in the world that could help bring him out of wandering.

To interrupt his introspection, a tiny bit of movement had caught Killua's sharp eyes. It was that moment that he had first saw the stray. A cat with a black coat, had approached him from the other end of the block, seemingly without fear. It had followed him as he walked past.

A strange cat, Killua had thought to himself. He had been on his way home to a youth hostel (where he used his stealth to sleep in without being noticed, meaning without having to pay), and the appropriate thought had come to him as he passed the animal shelter. An animal was likely to blow his cover, even if this cat was cute and had exhibited some form of endearing, if not unwarranted, attraction to him.

It had followed him into the shelter, almost as if he had been the one it was escorting in rather than the other way around, and that was where he had met Gon.

He had come across the boy from behind, in a back room, after bringing it upon himself to wander inside rather than ringing the bell at the front desk. There had been a figure standing in front of a row of cat cages, and at that point all Killua had seen was the white tank top and the green shorts and the tan, well-toned arms and legs and spiky black hair. He had been able to tell that this was a guy his age, around seventeen perhaps, and as the figure had turned around and Killua's blue eyes had met brown.

The cat had entered the room, as if on cue to introduce itself, and that was when the boy had said it, "the stray!" and Killua for a moment could have sworn that this boy named was referring to him. He watched this boy, captured by something he could not place, and watched as he bent down to meet the approaching cat. He heard a light laugh and saw the boy smiling as he rubbed the cat's head with a tender friendliness, and it was then that Killua felt that the boy glowed with radiance as if it were not fluorescent lights but sun reflecting off his golden skin.

Something in his conscience felt as if it were floating as he watched the boy pick the cat up and hold it with care. "Do you want to hold her?"

He shrugged but moved closer, holding his arms out casually, and thus did he receive the purring bundle of fur and feel the tickle of the cat's ear brushing against his chin.

"She likes you."

Killua made a sound to acknowledge that, preoccupied with the boy's wide grin.

"I'm Killua."

"I'm Gon. You must be good with animals, Killua."

"It's nothing," Killua replied. He felt that it would be quite pleasant to hear this boy said his name again.

They talked for a while, and Killua learned that Gon was a volunteer at this animal shelter. He found himself helping out, carrying boxes of litter and food back and forth, eager to show off his own physical strength. Gon seemed impressed.

"Do you work out?"

Killua beamed and flushed a bit, happy that he had been noticed. "What made you guess?"

Gon set down his box and walked over to hold Killua's arm up, and Killua internally jumped. He noticed the way Gon's strong hands wrapped around his wrist, golden skin against his own pale complexion.

"You have nice arms!" Gon said, smiling.

"What the heck," Killua mumbled, pleased despite himself. He wanted to return the compliment, but there was no way he could say something that embarrassing to a guy he just met. Gon sure had some guts.

With the last of the duties wrapping up, Killua glanced at the clock and wondered how an hour had passed by since he walked into this shelter, intent just on dropping the stray off. He watched Gon from the side, realizing that it was the first time in a long time that he had interacted with someone his own age.

"Thanks for helping out!" They were now exiting the shelter, the night air a bit chillier than Killua could've anticipated. Gon too, was making his way outside in a tank top, although he seemed unfazed.

Killua shrugged. "I don't have anything better to do." He wondered how he was going to find an excuse to come back.

"Then we should hang out!"

Killua felt a smile tug at his lips, but he looked at his feet. "When?"

"Now!"

"…Now?"

"Do you have anything better to do?"

Killua opened and closed his mouth before looking away. "Nah." They were at the front gate now, and as Gon turned around to close the gate, there stood the black cat.

Gon made a sound of confusion and exasperation. "How'd you get out again?"

"Again?"

"She escaped earlier today for the first time. I could've sworn I…" his voice trailed off as he watched the cat rub around Killua's ankles, curling its tail affectionately around his calf. "She really does like you!"

Killua looked at the cat in amazement. He had no idea how he had won this cat's heart. Maybe he did have a way with animals. Maybe just as much as he saw Gon did. And admittedly, this cat's unwitnessed powers of stealth spoke to him.

"Do you wanna…" Gon looked into his eyes, and Killua was struck by how bright they were even in the dark. "Do you wanna keep her?"

Ah. "I can't."

"Ahh. Sorry! Don't worry about it." Gon sighed and his brown eyes looked at the cat with sympathy.

"M…maybe I can," Killua said, squirming a bit. Shit, what was he buying himself into? He didn't have the money to find a place to live. Plus if he got a cat, he'd have to stick to one place. He had been wandering from place to place for almost a year, and had no plans to be stuck on this island. But looking at Gon's relieved and glad eyes gazing at him now, it felt like crap to have to take back those words. "No... Sorry. I'm actually traveling, and won't be here for long."

Gon looked even more crestfallen than before and it hit Killua like a brick to the face. Dammit, nice one, Killua.

"B…but maybe if I like it here, I'll stay for a while longer." Was he even thinking before he was talking? The words had just flowed out of him and he watched Gon seem to renew at this promise that Killua had made without thinking. "No guarantees," he added, but that didn't seem to deter the boy.

Within a half hour he found himself in Gon's house, a black cat on his lap. Somehow Killua had managed to slip that he was sneaking youth hostel stays in front of Gon and his aunt Mito, and now he was arranged to stay in the house for as long as he liked. "If you're going to sleep somewhere for free, at least be our guest." Aunt Mito was not about to let Gon's friend be without a roof to sleep under. Killua's heart seemed to swell a bit with joy upon hearing that. He was Gon's friend.

Killua stuttered, thanking with awkwardness the woman smiling warmly at him. "Uh, is the cat being here okay…?" Was this supposed to be his cat?

"She's so attached to you that I don't think I could keep her in the shelter if I tried," Gon said sheepishly. It seemed fine with Aunt Mito. So the cat would be around for now.

It came to be his turn to shower, and when he walked out, he pulled out from his backpack the only change of clothes he had bothered to bring with him and made himself comfortable in Gon's room. He had just put on a pair of borrowed pants to combat the chilly night air when Gon came in, his frame supporting the couch from the living room. Killua heard a bang as the couch bumped against the door frame, for which Gon quickly apologized, before maneuvering through the door and setting the couch down against the wall opposite Gon's bed. It didn't take much for Killua to guess that he was going to be sleeping there.

"Hey, Killua," and Killua looked at him. He always seemed to be smiling or excited about something. "Wanna go to the convenience store with me? Aunt Mito needs milk for tomorrow."

Killua agreed, but not before realizing that Gon's pants were a bit loose on him. He stuck his hands into the pockets to secure them against his hips, and felt the way the fabric fell gently on his skin, having been worn many times before by someone wider than him.

When they went into the night air, Killua was amazed that this Island would have a convenience store open at this time. He expected that of urban areas, but not of a place like this.

Jogging next to Gon, he felt air entering his lungs that brought a freshness to his mind, and he felt his step sync with Gon's own pace. They made their way over hills and past dense forest on either side, and for the first time Killua realized that he had spent the past few days confined to only one part of the small island—the part with the cafes and shops and the youth hostel. It didn't occur to him to wander out this far out, into the wilderness, where streetlights were scarce and the light of moon barely lit their path. He felt not fear, but excitement, and no doubt he could attribute that to having Gon navigate confidently by his side.

The convenience store was in fact in the opposite direction of town, by the coast. Killua saw docks and boats lit by moonlight, and windows lit from the inside on a building near the edge of a cliff by the shore. The moon shone just as strong after they exited the convenience store, one shopping bag for each of them. Gon seemed to be comfortable in the wilderness even in the dark, Killua observed out loud.

Gon looked at the trees passing by, smiling. "I know these woods inside and out. I like being around them."

Killua whistled. A boy at home in the outside world, at least in the confines of this island. Compared to himself, who really only knew the inside of his family's mansion inside out and ways to conduct himself in refined urban settings, the wilderness was uncovered territory. He glanced at the woods too, and wished he could share in Gon's understanding.

"I have an idea! I don't have work tomorrow, so we can go fishing together! How do you like the sound of that?"

Killua had never gone fishing, but this boy's enthusiasm was contagious. "Eh, sure," he responded noncommittally. I don't have anything better to do.

When they settled in for the night, Killua felt different laying down in the darkness from any point before. His room at "home" was large, cold, and empty. His presence was inadequate to fill the space, and moonlight would cast ghastly echoes of light across the floor. But here in Gon's room, it was a bit of a tight fit, as the house was modest, but it was… cozy. He listened to Gon's even breathing and knew that he was asleep.

I could kill him right now, Killua thought for a second, then mentally punched himself. He had been trained to have these thoughts, although never did he actually kill anyone, at least not for sport. So fine, he had killed. It was a disgusting inevitable process of his training, the training he increasingly refused as he aged, to varying degrees of success. The things he learned were programmed into him and built into his habits regardless of how he felt about it. He thought of the blades he had hidden on him at all times, even when sparsely dressed, but then remembered how for fear of tearing Gon's pants up he had left them behind when going to the convenience store. He thought of the way Gon's veins intertwined with the muscles on his arms and how they bulged slightly with physical effort—a boy's body nearing its prime, with a strong beating heart. He thought of Gon's hand catching Killua's wrist, golden flesh against pale.

What if Gon knew?

"Gon?"

Gon was fast asleep. Killua turned over so that he faced the wall, pulling his blanket with him. He would never thank for Gon's hospitality by killing him. He would never respond to someone by killing them, ever. He knew all the ways in which people could die, some quicker than others, but having that knowledge didn't have to mean anything, didn't have to manifest in action. Maybe Gon wouldn't have to know.