Chapter 2

As if some higher power was listening, Gon had set aside a training day for himself to prepare for Bisky's return; which left Killua to his own devices. Immediately, he planned a visit to Kurapika's apartment. It was the perfect chance to have a more private conversation concerning his current problem.

Was it odd that he had only spent less than three days in Yorknew, and here Killua was seeking out Kurapika for relationship advice? Shouldn't he be preparing for Bisky as well? Of course, he would try; but the more time he spent around Gon, the more desperate and confused he became.

Being trained as an assassin, Killua was able to compartmentalize his life. It was always second nature. But with the way things were building up now, he was barely capable of separating business and personal feelings. Even though he had held onto those feelings for five years without a word, now it all seemed to be accumulating at an alarming rate. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep quiet.

Now that Killua knew Kurapika was like him, it gave him hope. He had someone that knew what it was like to be different in such a way. He could connect with Kurapika and gain some insight; possibly learn the best way to tell Gon how he felt without scaring him away.

So now he sat at Kurapika's small yet polished dining room table with a cup of herbal mint tea sitting before him on an ivory place mat. Kurapika brought his own cup to the table and sat across from Killua, crossing his legs before saying, "I've never seen you look this worried before. Is Gon giving you trouble?"

Killua shook his head, unable to look Kurapika in the eye as he replied, "I'm just worried that I'll screw things up between us."

"Harboring these feeling for him is hurting you." Kurapika admitted, picking up a delicate glass cup and blowing gently on the surface of the tea within. "You have to do something soon."

"I know." Killua tucked his hands between his knees shyly, looking past the table and down to the floor. "I just . . . I don't even know if he likes guys. If he even could."

Kurapika took a small sip from his cup before setting it down. "You have to accept the possibility of rejection, Killua. It's a plausible consequence of confessing feelings for someone."

"I've felt this way about him for years. I don't know what I would do if I got shot down." Killua apprehensively glanced at Kurapika's stern look.

The Kuruta's gaze softened at Killua's all-too-obvious fear. "I know this is easier said than done. And I should admit, I wasn't exactly honest before. I have been in a situation like this-"

"It was Leorio, wasn't it?" Killua's question came out more like a predictable statement than anything.

Kurapika chuckled slightly at the memory. He leaned back in his chair and cradled his cup in his hands again, looking reminiscent. "I quickly grew out of it. I was about eighteen when I told him. Of course, we both knew nothing was possible between us. Even if Leorio turned out to be gay by some miracle, it just wouldn't have worked out. But once I said something, the feelings vanished . . . as if they were never there. And we got past it and remained friends."

Killua was sure the solution to his own problem wasn't going to be nearly as clean or easy. "Then, what should I do? Should I even tell him?"

"That's up to you." Kurapika answered. "Do what you feel is best."

Killua couldn't understand how the Kuruta made everything sound so simple. "I feel like I'm going to get rejected."

Kurapika titled his head in the slightest. "Why? You haven't even tried yet."

"I think . . . I just don't know." Killua's resolve wavered. He'd never encountered a problem like this before. Fighting, strategizing, and killing were things he could handle; things he understood. But venturing into the unknown territory of feelings and affection, and having the courage to admit them . . . Could he do this right? Could he even do this at all? Apprehension and fear grew within him; squirming in the pit of his stomach and making him feel sick.

"Stop thinking so hard." Kurapika was starting to feel stressed himself the more he watched Killua mentally fall apart. He couldn't help but reach across the table and lay a hand over Killua's tensely interlocked fingers. "No matter what happens, Gon will not abandon you. He would never leave his best friend behind."

Killua appreciated the warmth of Kurapika's hand as it covered his own cold and clammy ones. He felt his nerves dissipate at the touch; he was reassured more by the physical contact than the blond's words. His fingers loosened and he looked at Kurapika's hand. His eyes then followed an outstretched arm to the Kuruta's concerned face.

"I hate seeing you so miserable." Kurapika murmured as their eyes met. "I wish there was something I could do to help . . ."

Killua appreciated the sincerity he felt from the blond as they continued to stare at each other. Oddly enough, he didn't feel uncomfortable at all. He felt safe and relieved that he had another friend he could still depend on after all these years of distance. Kurapika's hand squeezed his before pulling away.

"Maybe roleplaying might help." Kurapika suddenly suggested.

Killua, who had been attempting to take the first sip of his now-cooling tea, almost spit it out at the implications of such a word. "What do you . . . mean by that?" he managed to cough out.

Kurapika laughed at his friend's red face. He teased him with a grin, saying, "Where is your mind, Killua? I mean I'll pretend to be Gon and you practice your confession on me."

"You'd have to get a bit taller to do that." Killua snickered, which earned him a playful glare.

"Well, either that or I could just pull out a collar with a bell and some cat ears, since you're so interested." Kurapika couldn't keep a straight face at Killua's deepening blush. He chuckled, pressing the back of his hand lightly to his lips before saying, "Sorry. It's a little too easy to tease you."

Killua tucked a fist under his chin as he leaned on the table and looked away. "Oh shut up."

Kurapika relented, folding his hands in front of himself but still smirking. "I'm still here if you want to experiment."

"Stop talking like that, it's embarrassing!" Killua shouted as he tried to will his blush away.

Kurapika allowed himself one more chuckle. "Ok, I'm really done this time. Sorry."

"No, it's ok." Killua said resolutely. "I need to get used to these kinds of things. I mean . . . being physically involved with other guys."

Kurapika shook his head in disagreement. "Your personal life is no one's business but your own. You can deal with those things when you're ready. No one's pushing you; and if anyone tries to they're not worth your time."

Killua studied Kurapika, looking him in the eye for a moment before saying. "You're right. No one can push me. But I can decide when I'm ready." He swallowed before continuing. "And I think I'm ready to tell him."

Kurapika gazed at Killua in concern. "Only if you're sure."

"I have to do something." Killua said, his chair scraping the floor as he stood. "If I don't tell him soon, I feel like things will just get worse."

"I understand." Kurapika replied, standing as well and beginning to gather the forgotten cups on the table. "Do what you feel is right. And good luck." He added with a smile.

Killua returned the simple gesture. "Thanks."

The younger man left Kurapika's apartment, feeling more confident in himself than he had in a long time.


"Hey, Gon-"

"What was that regenerating technique Bisky showed us once?"

"I don't know. But Gon, I-"

"You have to remember! The one with Ren?"

"It was so many years ago, I honestly can't say I do. But I have something important to tell you-"

"Maybe it didn't use Ren . . . Ten? En?"

"Gon!"

The young man in question sighed, sending a scolding look in Killua's direction. "What is it, Killua? I'm busy, and you should be too. We haven't trained together once since we got here, and it's been over a week!"

"I know that! That's part of what I wanted to tell you! If you could just shut up for a minute, I have something I want to say."

Though the slightest bit irritated, Gon stayed quiet and regarded his friend with an expectant expression.

Killua took a deep breath and looked Gon in the eye, sitting down next to his friend on one of the beds in their hotel room. Gon had already been sitting, and Killua figured they would both need to after what he was planning to tell him. He laced his fingers together under his chin, looking pensive when he finally spoke. "We've been friends for six years. That's a long time, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." Gon sounded slightly impatient as he answered. "What does that have to do with-?"

"Stop giving me a hard time and listen, damn it." Killua snapped. After a tense moment of silence, he mumbled under his breath "This is a lot harder than I thought . . ."

Gon remained silent, despite looking like he wanted to make a smart remark about Killua's stalling.

Killua ignored him and steeled himself, fighting nerves that made his stomach flip as he said, "I've always admired you, Gon. Your bravery and generosity; all the things you taught me about living . . . I'm so lucky to have you as a friend." Killua smiled to himself, remembering all the happiness his years with Gon brought him. "But lately, those feelings changed. Well no, they didn't change all that much . . . there were just a few new things added on. I mean, I still value you as a friend. But now, there's more to it . . ."

"Killua." Gon started. His tone held no bite as he scratched the back of his head. "You're not making any sense."

Killua sighed. He should have known a subtle approach would never work. Turning off his mind for that one moment, Killua was able to finally say the words he was afraid of. "I like you."

Killua held his breath and watched as Gon's large, expressive brown eyes softened. They held a naïve affection and slight confusion in them as the boy answered, "I- I like you too, Killua."

Blinking at him in silence, Killua almost couldn't believe Gon had entirely missed the point. More determined than ever to make him understand, Killua leaned toward his friend to confirm what he meant, "No, Gon . . . I mean, I really like you."

Gon leaned away from Killua, still looking puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Let me show you." Swallowing his growing anxiety, Killua had gently taken Gon's hand and quickly closed the distance between them. He closed his eyes, tilted his head, and leaned forward without daring to breathe.

When their lips should have met, Killua felt Gon turn his face away.

"Um . . . What are you doing?" the questioning and uncomfortable tone Gon had in his voice made the bottom of Killua's world plummet. Of all the directions he had expected this conversation to take, this wasn't one of them. The room became suddenly colder and Killua felt himself start to shake. Not because of the cold, but because of the way Gon was looking at him.

He backed away to a more familiar distance and stood, fighting a desperate feeling of wanting to run. Almost mechanically, Killua's constricting throat managed to get out the words, "I like you, Gon. I really, really like you."

"Oh . . ." Gon faltered, averting his eyes, and the most awkward silence of Killua's life fell between them.

"Gon . . . say something. Please." It was getting harder for Killua to speak. His lungs and throat were painfully tight, and the backs of his eyes began to burn. Killua hadn't cried in years, and he thought he'd never have to ever again. But here he was, on the verge of tears in front of his best friend. "Please . . . Anything. Just talk to me."

The tears had come, streaming silently down Killua's face as he waited. He prayed he wasn't so disgusting that Gon could bear to look at him just one more time.

Killua stood and Gon sat, both looking in opposite directions for what felt like hours. Killua was grateful for a numbness that coursed through his veins; a numbness that told him everything would be ok, and that he didn't just demolish his entire relationship with his best friend.

Despite this consolation, Killua knew. He was aware that things would never be the same again. That they would both be forced to either tear down or completely rebuild their friendship. Where would they go from here?

Killua found himself unwilling and incapable of answering.

Suddenly, Gon gave a small, tired sigh and barely uttered the words, "Killua . . . I don't like you like that."


The harsh reality of what happened crashed down on Killua the very next day when he woke and found that Gon was missing. He called his friend once, twice, three times in a row until he gave up and tossed his phone to the floor. He knew Gon wouldn't call back.

Laying back down on the bed, Killua closed his eyes and thought about yesterday. It was all he could think about. Why did he pick that one moment to act so selfish? Not even sparing a thought to how Gon would think or feel?

I don't like you like that . . .

Killua was an idiot. He was as stupid as they came, thinking his obviously straight best friend could ever . . . Killua curled into himself, remembering the look on Gon's face; the disappointment, the uneasiness, the shame in his eyes. Why did Killua ever think his feelings held any kind of importance? He shouldn't even have any in the first place . . .

What could life possibly be like without his best friend in it? Killua sat in silence and thought about that singular idea for endless hours. He'd have nothing except to return home and take charge of the family business, and then what? He'd assassinate people . . . commit murder for a living all over again . . . until he died.

Killua reached a point where he couldn't keep track of the days anymore. They all blurred together into a long stretch of time he'd simply spent by himself. Time alone to think or deliberate isolation? He'd called it both at one point or another, but found in the end he didn't care what it was. He didn't care about much, nowadays.

He ignored his cell phone every time it went off. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything remotely human, eating and sleeping included . . . Killua couldn't decide if it was pathetic or truly troubling that he wasn't reaching out to anyone for help. He'd surely die if he kept going on like this . . . but then that made Killua wonder: would it really be so much of a disadvantage to do so?

Killua had always been taught that having friends and emotions didn't matter; and he would always fight back and tell Illumi he was wrong. That there had to be more to life than killing people and feeling nothing. But if Illumi could see him now . . . that bastard would be laughing in his face, he was sure of it.

"Look at where having friends and feelings has gotten you, Killu. Was it everything you ever dreamed?"

"Shut up." Killua whispered at nothing. His older brother's manipulating needle was taken out of his head years ago . . . Why was he hearing his voice now?

Maybe because in this instance, Illumi was right. Feelings only got you betrayed and hurt. But Killua had to contradict everything Illumi had told him, not even taking into account that the man might have been trying to protect him from feeling the way he was now . . .

There wasn't a time in his life that Killua could say he felt so lost and broken.

Eventually during his thoughts, Killua would manipulate his nails into claws and stare at them. Sometimes he'd do it for hours, idly wondering how slicing his own neck would feel.


"Gon, calm down! I don't know where he is."

Kurapika had to hold his phone away from his ear (again) as Gon shouted, "He's been missing for days, Kurapika! He won't answer my calls . . . I don't know what else to do! He might not even be in the city anymore! What if he went back to his family again?!"

"I highly doubt that. Gon, losing your composure isn't helping anyone. What even happened between you to make him leave?"

For the first time during the phone call, the line went silent. Kurapika began to fear the worst. "Gon . . . You didn't."

The voice that answered was weak and evasive. "Wha- . . . what is that supposed to mean?"

"Killua told me about what he feels for you. And when I last saw him, he told me he was going to tell you how he felt. You didn't hurt him, did you?"

Gon choked on his words, fumbling for a moment before explaining, "I . . . I didn't think he'd say those things to me. You know how good he is at hiding stuff! I didn't know how to react!"

"Even so, I know Killua wouldn't just abandon you because you two couldn't agree on something. There's more to this that you're not telling me."

"There's nothing else to tell! I didn't know what to do, ok? It was weird for me, that's all."

"I thought we were talking about Killua." Kurapika said, becoming suddenly angry at Gon's self-centric behavior. "Isn't he the one that's in pain and missing?"

"He was acting like someone I had never met before, Kurapika. He tried to . . . kiss me! I wasn't sure how to take it."

Kurapika felt his mood getting darker by the second. "Why is that such a terrible thing?"

"What?"

"Him showing you how much he loves you. Why is that so wrong?"

"I don't feel the same way! You know that."

"There you go again, always thinking about yourself. All Killua did was think of you. He was so worried about how you'd react and about how much you'd hate him for the way he felt. And you know . . . He wasn't too far off the mark."

Gon sputtered for a moment before retorting. "I don't hate him! I just . . . The time we're wasting arguing is probably taking Killua one step closer to suicide, if he hasn't already done it!"

Kurapika conceded to that point. His teeth clicked as he closed his mouth and opened it again. "You're right. We can meet up and look for him now. Where is better for you?"

"I'm already close to your apartment. I'll see you in a bit."

Gon hung up before Kurapika could. Sighing, the blond set his phone down on his kitchen counter, feeling like punching a hole in something. Killua could be dead for all they knew. "How could you let this happen?" he growled as his eyes continued to burn scarlet.

They had been for a while now. Ever since Gon said Killua had went missing . . .

The former was knocking on Kurapika's door faster than he expected. Gon closed the front door behind him and instantly shied away from bright crimson eyes. It was then that Kurapika noticed the younger man was completely soaked; it had been raining that entire night, and Gon must not have bothered with any adequate clothing or even an umbrella. Not that he would be amenable to such things in the state he was anyway. "I found an alley with Killua's scent in it. If we hurry, we should be able to follow the trail before the rain washes it away."

"Let's go, then." Kurapika said, swiping his apartment keys from the counter and pocketing them.

Gon suddenly frowned, rolling his eyes while blocking the front door. "You're not leaving like that. Go put your contacts in."

All too aware of the heat in his irises, Kurapika replied, "I don't care about that, at this point. You've done enough damage."

"Oh, thanks for reminding me." Gon snapped, shoving his hands into the pockets of his damp green jacket and averting his eyes. "You're in the heart of mafia black market territory, dumbass. I don't need both of your deaths on my hands. Just go put your fucking contacts in before I do it for you."

Only a minute or two later, a charcoal-eyed Kurapika followed Gon out into the rain to search for their friend. Tightening the jacket he'd brought around himself, Kurapika could already feel the biting wind and rain beginning to chill him.

"The scent's still here." Gon said as they came to the dark alley he spoke of before. It wasn't unlike the other unsavory nooks of Yorknew, complete with rotting garbage and hissing feral cats. Taking a deep breath, Gon sighed, "He went up the side of the building . . . and the trail stops there."

"Maybe we can pick it back up if we follow what we've got." Checking first for any signs that someone might see them, both young men scaled the ashen brick walls and reached the top of an office building with ease. If the wind had been bad in the city streets, it was worse without any man-made structures to slow it down. The rain was also coming down harder, pelting Gon and Kurapika as the former took deep breaths of wet air through his sensitive nose.

Kurapika tried to ignore the rain that rolled off his hair and down the back of his wet jacket as he called out over the rain, "Is there anything?"

With his eyes still closed, Gon's eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "I'm not sure. He didn't try to cover his tracks or anything. Damn it . . . The trail really does stop here."

"How can there be nothing?" Kurapika growled under his breath. His hands clenched into fists, and suddenly the rain didn't bother him much anymore. "Keep trying."

"I can't. There's nothing to follow."

"Do you feel betrayed?"

"What?"

"Do you feel betrayed because Killua never told you he was gay?"

"What the hell are you getting at?"

"You thought you knew him. Now he seems like a completely different person from the one you knew. For years, he lied to you. I'm sure you feel betrayed."

"Knock it off, Kurapika. I swear I'll kick your ass if I have to."

"As if you could." Kurapika cocked his head, locking gazes with his friend. His scarlet eyes nearly shone out from beneath his contacts.

"Don't push me." Gon's brown eyes narrowed as he slowly spoke, grinding the words out from between his teeth. "Ever since we got here he was blowing me off for you, anyway. Maybe he wanted you, too."

"There's an idea. I would be better for him." Kurapika stood straighter, his eyes never once leaving Gon's.

Gon's expression turned disbelieving as well as angry. "Don't fuck around, Kurapika! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

For years, Kurapika had wondered just how he would come out to his closest friends. What kind of careful planning and thought it would take . . . "Nothing."

Kurapika was tackled and wrestled to the wet rooftop by Gon's immense strength. He knew he could have avoided it; he had always been faster than the black-haired boy. But he allowed Gon to gain the upper hand, staring up at him as the boy straddled his waist and held him by the collar of his jacket.

"You started this. Now finish it." Gon growled, his eyes boring into Kurapika's as the deafening sound of pouring rain echoed in their ears. "What have you been doing with Killua?"

"What?" For the first time that night, Kurapika's eyes gained an emotion other than rage, widening in confusion.

Gon's hands shook as they fisted Kurapika's jacket. A long moment passed, where the rain dominated the silence and Gon bowed his head. "Have you been fucking him?"

Kurapika blinked, almost all of his anger disappearing. Immediately, he stifled a laugh, bringing a hand up to cover it.

"Do you think this is a game?!" Gon yelled, throwing Kurapika's upper body back into the concrete rooftop of the building.

Kurapika allowed the impact to knock his hand away, and he continued to laugh as he laid on the cold stone. Though the sound was drowned out by the downpour, he laughed loudly until his throat was numb from the freezing air. "And I thought you asked stupid questions when you were younger . . ." Dragging himself up from the puddle his body had created, Kurapika lifted himself onto his elbows. His eyes blazed crimson though his contacts as he sneered, yelling over the storm, "Killua is in love with you! Do you really think he'd be sleeping with me on the side?!"

Lightening dazzled the sky, illuminating dark, looming storm clouds and reflecting in cascading raindrops. "How am I supposed to know? . . . I don't know what you people do!"

Claps of thunder sounded as the storm descended, making the rain inaudible as they permeated the atmosphere. "We're just like you! We have the same feelings . . . we fall in love . . . There is no difference!"

Lightning and thunder chased after each other and played in the ever-darkening sky. Gon had stopped looking at Kurapika a long while ago, his head hanging and his expression indecipherable. Kurapika still tried to get Gon to look at him, craning his neck to search the younger man's face. "You think Killua's different now, but that's just it . . . he isn't!"

Lightning struck the earth again in a blinding flash, but it was too distant to be heard. It only danced jaggedly against the clouds, giving Kurapika enough light to see that Gon had met his gaze.

"I'll keep looking for Killua on my own." The young man said, rising from the concrete and facing away from his friend. "It was a mistake to bring you along."

"Maybe it was." Kurapika mused as he stood. "What will he say when he realizes what you think of him?"

"I don't have time for this." Without sparing a backward glance, Gon bounded between rooftops and disappeared before Kurapika could blink.

In the moments he spent by himself in the rain, Kurapika realized how cold he really was. His breath was no longer visible as he clutched his soaked jacket around himself. Uncontrollably shivering, he forced himself to return to his apartment. What good would he be to Killua if he ended up getting himself sick?