Four

Alive

The hatred on Killua's tongue is bitter like cigarette ashes.

He can taste it even when his tongue meets his cheek, it lingers despite his aggressive attempt to swallow it whole.

He's used to the familiarity of it, but he never appreciates the taste itself.

He brushed his teeth, praying the toothpaste would erase whatever traces remain, and came up empty. He hovered over the sink; both palms pressed firmly on each sides of the marble, and raised his head to look in the mirror. He almost can't recognize the person staring back at him; silver hair disheveled and eyes wild with sleep and irritation. Killua didn't know how it had all come to this, and reprimanded himself on why he didn't do anything about it sooner. Maybe it was because, like everyone else in the family, he tried to create a mirage in his mind that everything was tolerable, another day down the hatch. But reality had hit him the day before, causing the emotional teen to question everything in his life and what it meant to him.

Things would be different this time; he would make sure of that.

Killua opened the door to the basement, pale yellow light engulfing him whole. It had been a few since he had last been down to visit, blame on his mother for not sleeping at night.

He tiptoed through the creaky wooden flooring, careful not to completely disturb the occupant. He saw her legs before coming in contact with her face, a light snoring circling the room. It was as beautiful as a symphony to him; he had forgotten the melody that he used as a sleeping aid, and hearing it now caused the tension in his joints to dissipate.

He sat the tray down in front of the couch that she lay sprawled out on, covering her with the blanket that she kicked to the side. She did not move, and snuggled in tightly at the warmth that draped over her shoulders. Killua stared at her for what seemed like a lifetime, taking in every small curve in her face and the way her mouth pouted as saliva pooled her arm underneath. He smiled warmly; she was his heartbeat in human form.

He sat on the floor, crossing one leg over the other and leaned back, sighing. Looking around at the dreary basement, he was grateful that it didn't appear to be too much of a prison, and that was saying a lot. A pale blue paint was sloppily painted on the walls, with a floral banner adorned just below the ceiling. A small crate overflowed with stuffed animals, which Killua recognized as just being hand me downs. He made a mental note to visit the toy store when his allowance resurfaced in his bank account.

A small moan brought his attention back, his sister stirring about on the couch. Her nose traveled down to the scent placed below her, a groggy smile infiltrating her face. "Mmm," she said sleepily, "Gotoh made pancakes."

Killua cleared his throat, relieved that he would get the chance to talk to her as she consumed her meal. She whipped her head in his direction, beaming with joy at the sight of familiarity.

"Big brother!" she all but jumped off of the sofa as she threw herself on top of Killua. She nestled her head under his chin, her arms clutching at his shirt. "I've missed you, big brother!"

"I've missed you too, Alluka, " his heart would burst into confetti if she allowed it. He hugged her back, showering her with the love that she had so desperately needed. One that he would never forget to provide.

She sat back from him, grabbing the tray behind her. "Did you make this, big brother?"

Killua nodded. Her voice was honey.

"Thank you!" Alluka had the prettiest smile Killua could ever recall seeing. Whenever she opened her mouth, he was transported to the places you read about in fairy tale books. She bit into her pancake, syrup falling to her lap. "It's really good! But why did you bring two plates?"

"I figured Nanika would be hungry, too."

Alluka's eyes softened to an ocean wave, it was one of Killua's favorite sceneries. If Bisky ever demanded that her students show the best art piece they could find, Killua would bring Alluka as a live model.

"You're so kind, big brother. She says thank you, I know she does." Alluka slowly chewed on the pancake, her eyes falling to the floor in the space between them. "I know she also says that she's sorry for all the pain that she caused."

Killua's breath caught on the end of his throat. How could you even think that any of this is your fault?

He reached out and touched her hand, rubbing the top with one finger. "Nanika has nothing to apologize for. And you can tell her that or I can."

Alluka feigned a smile, but Killua knew that it was solely for his benefit. He didn't know how to console her, make her feel that even if no one else admitted it, she belonged here. She was his family, and he hers, and that was more than enough between the two of them.

"So I think I made a friend, Alluka," he changed the subject, not wanting to waste the precious time that winded down between them.

Her eyes returned to their lively state, his favorite smile returning. "Really, big brother? I'm so glad to hear that!"

Killua ran his fingers through his hair, stands dangling between his fingers. He shook them loose. "Yeah, his name is Gon. He's pretty nice; I think you'd like him. You two…..remind me of each other, in a way."

"So he's really pretty?" Alluka gushed, a sly smile spreading in the corners of her mouth.

A heat of red rushed to his cheeks. Gon's face was an image that seemed to stay in the back of Killua's mind, but he tossed it into the 'I really don't know what I'm doing here' box. He had become an expert at that. Furthermore, could he call Gon pretty? Was he supposed to spend as much time fixated on the idea as he currently did?

"Yeah," a lie sprouted. "You both are really pretty." The lie grew.

A flashing thought, quicker than lightning and louder than thunder coursed through his brain.

Gon wasn't pretty.

Gon was beautiful.

Killua shook it off, not sure it that was an observation he was allowed to think. Another guy, could he be beautiful? There was no denying that Gon was physically attractive, it was part of the reason people seemed to flock to him, but Killua wasn't focused so much on the outer beauty.

It was because, just like Alluka, Killua wanted to bathe in the essence of their souls, hoping it would corrupt his own clouded one.

It was his smile, and how Killua found it easy to marinate on the idea of them being friends. Gon was kinder to him than any peer he had met in his life, and felt there was a common ground the two of them could walk on. A storm brewed inside of Killua, and he prematurely felt that Gon was the boat to take him to shore.

Alluka smiled warmly as she watched Killua lose himself in thought. "Big brother," she said softly, "you really like this Gon, don't you?"

Killua glanced his widened eyes in her direction, betraying his answer before his lips parted. Killua had always believed that people needed time and experience before forming a bond, but Gon came so naturally, as if he found something he didn't know he was missing.

What was this? What did people call this?

"I suppose," he said dreamily, internally spreading angst in his bones. They ached with the unknown or maybe he was just making it too hard on himself. "But we just met. Do you think that it's strange?"

Alluka shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face. "Absolutely not! I think those are the best kinds of people! In the books that I read," her thumb stretched backwards to the pile of colored spines in the corner, "they talk about love at first sight. I think that can happen with friends too."

It was Killua's turn to produce a loving smile, only this was short lived. Alluka smile faded into a solemn frown, eyes falling back to the floor. Killua instinctively scooted closer to her knees. "Alluka, what's wrong?"

"It's just," she bit her lip, feeling the hot liquid rising in her nose towards her eyes, "I wish I could meet him. I want to meet the person who makes big brother smile. I hate being cooped up in here." There was no pressing back as large beads rained down her cheeks. Killua stretched outwards, engulfing her like a blanket of security. He rubbed her hair, trying to find an answer that could explain why it was this way.

His mind cleared, a welcomed silence compared to after a strong rainfall settled within.

There was only one solution to this, one that could save him and her.

He leaned back and grabbed the sides of her face, eyes going every which way until they settled on a spot in her pupils. He needed her to really hear him.

"Alluka," his voice was barely above a whisper, trying to not break let his emotions possess him completely, "I am going to get us out of here. You don't deserve this kind of life."

She whimpered, sniffling back the water that threatened to leak down her nostril, "But how, Big Brother? Mother would never let you."

"Mother," he spat the name out, unconvinced that she could ever live up to the title, "will have no say so in the matter when I graduate. I'm leaving this estate, and I'm taking you with me."

Alluka's eyes widened before relaxing into pleasure. She nodded her head, hugging his words against her heart with hope. "Okay, big brother. I would really love that." She chewed on her top lip again, words caught in her throat. "Is it okay," she was unsure of his answer, "if Nanika can come too?"

He smiled, looking at her as if she should already know. "Nanika is always invited wherever we go. She's one of us too, you know."

Killua didn't know if his heart could handle any more of the sun beams that Alluka threw at him with her dazzling smile.

He kissed the top of her forehead, before letting her flesh leave his completely. His stomach was in knots, but he knew that he would not go back on his words. Alluka needed more than what any other Zoldyk could offer her.

Alluka needed love and Killua had more than enough to give.

Killua replayed the exchange over and over in his head as he looked out the window of the limo. It was raining again, perfect for the somber mood that he couldn't escape this morning. His butler, Gotoh, straightened the mirror, glancing back at the lanky teen.

"Are you okay, Master Killua? You don't seem yourself this morning."

Killua glanced at him back through the review mirror, blues irises clouded with sadness. "Would you be, Gotoh?"

Gotoh pressed his lips together and cleared his throat. He glanced back at the road ahead, thoughts swimming with words.

No, Master Killua. If I were you, nothing would ever be alright.

Yorkshin High always smelled like lemon floor cleaner on Monday mornings.

It was a smell that Killua couldn't stand; too tart for his tastes, but this morning it blended in with the thickness in his throat. The students moved around his in a haze, like negatives on a photo strip, he didn't even recognize the way they seemed to stare at him.

Unlike everyone else, he made no matter to shelter himself from the thick droplets of rain that poured from the angry sky. Now his hair clung to his cheeks like a second skin; his sneakers sloshing water as he pulled himself through the halls.

"Killua!"

Killua's head rose, becoming aware of his surroundings since he had first trotted into the building. Now he could see the various stares that were trying to hide their questioning. He frowned at the attention, seeking out the known occupant of the voice.

A tan arm swung wildly to his left, Gon's other arm fished through his locker for his textbook. "Good morning, Killua!"

Killua smiled, gravitating towards Gon like electricity. Everyone else went back to being blurs, his vision tunneling on green tinted black hair strands.

Gon closed his locker, shoveling a book in his sack and placing it around his body. He closed his eyes and smiled crookedly. "Did you fight with the rain, or something? You're soaked."

Killua looked down at his sleeves and chuckled at how the wetly clung to his arms. "Yeah, I guess I wasn't being careful."

Gon returned the laugh, opening his locker back up and retrieving a long sleeved white shirt. "Here," he passed it to him, "you can put this on. I usually leave a lot of extra shirts in here for gym, and it's clean I promise. You can keep it, if you want."

Killua looked at the fabric, reluctantly taking it from him. It was a softer cotton than any retail shop could've sold for, Killua nestled it in between his fingers. "Where did you get this shirt from? Feels nice."

"Oh," Gon closed his locker, turning the lockpad to prevent intrusion, "my aunt makes them for me. She pretty much makes all of my clothes, actually."

Killua eyed Gon's outfit: a long fitted green shirt and black pants. It was simple, but Killua was impressed at the craftsmanship of the seams. "She does good."

"Yeah, Aunt Mito is a woman of many talents. You should come by some time and try her cooking."

Killua swallowed. An invitation? Was it okay to accept? "I guess I should trust you when it comes to food choices. That spaghetti was really good. I might take you up on that offer."

"Hope so!" Gon beamed, causing Killua's heart to race. He looked away, afraid of what other things he would think of if he continued to look at Gon's face.

"You okay?" Gon reached out to touch Killua's wet shoulder, hand staying a little longer than it should, "You don't look so good."

Killua took a deep breath so that his words didn't come out in a jumbled tornado. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just cold from the rain. I'll go change before first bell rings." Gon dropped his hand; Killua didn't think he wanted him to.

"Okay," Gon said, trying to keep his own composure. "Me and Zushi usually meet outside for lunch, and when it rains we eat in the library. Cafeteria's too loud, you wanna join?"

Killua nodded his head before he could analyze the situation any further. He turned around, partly to head to the bathroom and the other to cover the color swirls in his face. He didn't turn back around to Gon, which may have best for him at the moment.

That way, he didn't have to see the way Gon's eyes called for him to come back.

Teachers, Killua discovered, lost all motivation to teach when it was a storm outside.

Most of them declared the day to be a movie day, which meant Killua could use an excuse to nap. His mind was plastered with images of he and Alluka laying on a beach in a deserted island, drinking colorful soft drinks with fruit decoration and laughing about how good life is. He would always wake up too early, salty beach sand still lingering between his toes. Disappointment always gnawed at his brain, frustrating him when he realized reality was far less enjoyable. Soon, he promised, I will make it our true lives, Alluka.

By the time lunch had crept up on him, Killua was well energized. Clearly Gon and Zushi felt the same, as both were energetic as they ruffled through their lunch bags.

"Zushi," Gon stirred his soup around and elbowed his friend, "this is my friend, Killua. The one I told you about from art class."

Killua bit away the expression that he wanted to show, taking a gulp of chocolate milk instead. He talks about me?

"Oh yeah!," Zushi's thick eyebrows raised in recognition, taking a bite of the sandwich his fingers occupied, "He tells me you have crazy talent."

Killua shrugged, not too sure how to accept the compliment. "I'm okay, I guess. He's one to talk, he's pretty talented himself. You have a gift with charcoal."

Two apples replaced Gon's cheeks, appreciation for the compliment. "Thanks, Killua."

Killua grumbled as he bit into his own sandwich. Zushi smiled.

"You should see what a genius he is with a camera," Zushi eyed Gon, bragging on Gon's behalf. "Did you tell him about the show tonight, Gon?"

Gon swallowed loudly - Killua felt bad for how his throat must feel at the uneaten food particles – clearing his throat at the newly produced information. "No, I uh, I hadn't gotten to that Zushi."

Zushi stuck his tongue out at Gon, playfully mocking his stammering.

"What show?" Killua wished he had brought his sketch book with him instead of leaving it in his locker, Gon's face would make a perfect character study for class.

"It's nothing too major, honestly. I have a friend at an art college who puts up galleries of local artists. He wanted to use a few of my photos for this showing tonight, I assume because he needed to fill up the space."

Zushi scoffed. "Oh please, Gon. I don't know why you're being so modest." He looked towards Killua, passion and admiration speaking his words for him. "Gon is amazing, I even think Wing would be proud if he realized he had a faraway protégé. Seriously man, I get shivers sometimes at how monumental his pictures are."

"Wow," Killua bit down another bite of his sandwich, drinking his juice to break down the bread, "sounds like you're an artist in many facets."

Gon put his hands up, waving off any more compliments from the duo. "No, no, no, I still have a lot of work to do before I get that good."

"Killua, I'm telling you," Zushi was in no rush to back down from his campaign; Killua thought of how his parents would marvel at his insistent persuasion, "The guy is good. Don't let him scare you away from thinking otherwise. In my opinion, you should just come yourself and see. Then you can join me in knocking some sense into this goofball."

Killua's eyes traced over to Gon, a hotness sweeping in his belly. A part of him wanted to hear the words come out of Gon's mouth; the other was mentally coming up with reasons why he wouldn't be able to go.

Gon cleared his throat, taking a long swig from his water bottle. He licked his lips, using his hand as a talking guide. "Despite that I think you'll be bored out of your mind, and also that you will see that there are way more talented people than myself, Killua," Killua caught his breath in between his lips, careful to not to mimic the Red Sea, "would you like to come to the gallery with me tonight?"

"You should," Zushi talked before Killua could answer, "he's going to be by himself, anyways. I have to work."

"I won't be completely alone, Zushi, since Kurapica's hosting the thing. But it would be nice," honey eyes hesitantly fluttered towards blue ones, "if you could come. I totally understand if you couldn't."

"I'll try," Killua breathed out, feeling that was the most honest answer he could give. "I can't promise you anything, but Zushi makes them seem like something I need to see."

"You do," Zushi scarfed down the last of his sandwich, wiping crumbs from the corners of his mouth, "you'll regret it if you don't."

Killua gave a small sound of satisfaction, secretly enjoying the nervous way Gon had invited him. It was, dare he say it, cute.

The apples never left Gon's face.

The sun was out now, illuminating Killua's mood.

Gotoh noticed it, smiling at the way Killua's eyes were now laced with wonder and sentiment. "I take it you had a good day, Master Killua?"

"Hmmm?" Killua looked like he had just awoken from a dream, his pupils trying to settle with the picture of reality. "What are you talking about?"

"You're smiling," Gotoh took one hand off of the steering wheel to emphasize his point, finger running over the curvature of his lips, "and it doesn't look forced."

"Oh," Killua looked down at his pale hands, pink undertones softly speckled over his fingers, "I suppose it's not forced."

"Did you meet a nice girl? I smiled like that when I met a pretty girl in high school."

Killua jerked his head upwards, lungs inhaling with instability. "N-no. I just….had a good day, is all."

"Oh, that's too bad. I'm sure your mother would just love it if you found a suitable partner so early. That would look very well in the public's eye."

"What my mother loves and doesn't love is no matter to me. She loves the wrong things, anyways." Killua felt his broodiness return at the mention of his mother. He looked back out the window, upset at Gotoh's oblivious statement.

Gotoh softened his eyes, instantly upset with himself for the volcano fire he was sure he erupted in Killua. He meant no harm by it; the words spilled out faster than his brain could register.

Of course Killua did not want to hear about his mother, or anyone else in the upstairs Zoldyk family, for that matter.

Gotoh wondered if Killua told everyone that he was some kind of orphan.

Kikyo Zoldyk was not one to beat around the bush.

Killua had barely pressed his feet to the lush mahogany carpet in the door frame before she was calling his name. Killua took a deep breath, irritation plaguing his stomach. She was the last person he wanted to see.

"Killua, come in the study, it's important."

Killua cursed under his breath, knowing important was code word for you've managed to fuck up, again.

He dragged his feet to her study, plopping down in the chair in front of her desk. Kikyo looked unnaturally glamorous; her brown hair tousled into a beehive on the top of her head. Her lips were pursed, bright red lipstick disappearing into tight lines, and a perfectly manicured nail drumming the desk in front of her. If Killua did not know any better, he would think she was a loving, doting mother.

Instead, Killua related his mother to a robot; one who treated her family like they were a part of her government office.

Killua rolled his eyes as Illumi clouded the room like a dark shadow, plopping down on the loveseat under the window. He looked at Killua with mischief.

"What's he doing here?" Killua placed a finger of blame at Illumi, eyes focused on his mother to avoid looking into pitch, black pits.

"He's here," Kikyo pushed some papers in front of her and gripped a pen, "to help me talk some sense into you. What are you doing with yourself, Killua?"

Killua stared at her, causing Illumi to clear his throat. "Mother is talking to you, Kil," he scolded.

"I heard her," Killua's tone equivalent to a cornered animal with fangs bearing, " I just am not sure what puppet answer she is looking for."

Kikyo tilted her head downwards, laugh oozing with ignorance. "I'm sick of your 'woe-is-me' sarcasm, Killua. You treat me and everyone else in the family like we're dog shit. How can you be so upset at us for wanting the best for you?"

"How?!" Killua's face felt like a pile of jelly, shock causing the muscles in his mouth to droop. "You dare ask me how?"

"Killua," Kikyo said his name sternly, teeth replaced by glass shards, "you cannot continue to blame me for that. I did what was best. Sort of like what I'm trying to do now, for you. Our family has been on the Kukuroo council for generations, why would you want to spoil that so close to your vote for seat?"

"Did it ever occur to you," Killua clenched his teeth, speaking his words carefully, "that I have no desire to be like you? I don't want to join Kukuroo's council seat, I could give a rat's ass about voters, and the last thing I want is to have my name affiliated with a bunch of lying, insane, monsters."

The room loomed with tense silence, an ongoing event in the Zoldyk estate. Kikyo pushed her chair back slowly, circling around her desk. She stood in front of Killua.

"My dear Killua," she purred before raising her hand, stinging the side of his cheek. It hurt, but no more than the scars that his family permanently left on his heart. "You must understand, family is everything."

Killua rubbed the side of his cheek, angry tears sprouting in the middle of his eyes. "You don't have the first clue about family," he spat the words like knives, each one stabbing her in the chest. He looked over at Illumi, wanting to push him through the large window. "None of you do."

Illumi laughed, a pale hand playing through his coal black wispy hair. "Oh, Kil, don't tell me this is a tantrum about that thing in the basement? I thought we were all on the same accord? That it is in no way a Zoldyk?"

Killua stared blankly at Illumi, his blue eyes becoming cold and dangerous with ice. His breathing became irregular, and if Illumi didn't wipe that smug grin off of his face, he didn't know what he was going to do.
Kikyo exhaled, placing a finger on her temple. "Speaking of which, you're spending too much time with it, Killua. You know the rules: unlock the door and place food on the table, it's as simple as that. I've been hearing that you're down there for hours laughing."

Killua stood up, no longer able to breathe in the emotionally suffocating room. He walked to the doorway, stopping just before passing through. "She is our sister, Illumi. And she is your daughter, Mother. Nothing you can do will change that, no matter what methods you've tried to use before." Hot liquid spilled down his cheeks, dirtying Kikyo's prized possession of a rug. "I wish, very badly, that I could stoop to your level and get some sort of closure here, but she wouldn't want me to do that." He walked away from the situation, his back hot with the heat of murderous glares from behind him.

"Illumi," Kikyo's eyes never left the door way her middle child walked through. She narrowed her eyes with realization. "I doubt he goes to his room."

"Say no more, Mother," Illumi stood tall, fixing the collar on his teal shirt, "I'm on it."

Killua did not realize how far he could skate when he was upset.

He was now viewing the overhead of downtown Yorkshin, the sun melting into the moon, creating the last bit of twilight.

His leg vibrated, Gon's name flashing on the screen. Killua smiled crookedly, feeling the darkness in his chest give way to a sliver of light.

"Yo."

"Hey, Killua! I just got your message." Gon's voice was the medicine Killua didn't know he needed.

"Cool, but you couldn't just have texted me the address?"

Gon's laugh leapt through the phone, diving head first into Killua's ear. He held the phone back from his ear to prevent eternal damage.

"Yeah, I guess I could have. But I like using the phone sometimes, you know? Gives more meaning if you can hear a person's voice."

Killua did not know. But he was thinking that maybe he was starting to understand.

"Okay, I'll bite. Where am I meeting you at?"

"It's at the galleria on 15th street. Do you know how to get there?"

"Yeah, I can manage, with my skateboard I should be there in about ten minutes."

"Okay perfect. See you soon, Killua….hey, Killua?"

The tone in Gon's voice changed, Killua's stomach filling with balloons. "Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you're coming. I'll see you when you get here." Killua heard the click before he could register Gon's words. He felt something light and airy dance is belly again, rising towards the middle of his chest. This was getting strange, the feelings attached to being someone's friend. Killua was unsure how much of it he was making harder for himself.

Gon was leaning against a brick wall, holding a cup close his side, talking to a college student.

Killua felt immediately underdressed, the attire reminding him of hosted dinners he attended.

Gon looked up as the door opened, a grin splitting his face as he noticed silver and blue cascade in the room. He weaved through the crowd as if on roller skates, magnets pulling opposite sides.

Killua felt anxiety glide through his spine, Gon's black dress shirt, red suspenders and black pants causing him to swallow a strange reaction down his throat. Gon looked – dapper, if Killua could find a correct adjective. The honey in his eyes seemed to glow brighter against the dark colors and dim lighting.

Gon did not stop at the polite distance one normally walks to, instead pulling Killua into a hug. Killua tensed at the gesture, not expecting him to do and not really wanting him to stop.

Gon leaned his head in further, his smile radiating even in the night. He leaned in close to Killua's ear.

"Thank you so much, Killua, I didn't know anyone here."

The hot breath in his ear made this more difficult. Killua caught the air that lodged in his throat, feeling tickling the outer skin of his face. "No problem," he said, breaking free of the grasp, "thanks for inviting me."

Gon beamed, gesturing Killua to move towards the front with him. The galleria was very kind to the art on the walls, spots of light illuminating the frames. The rest of the floorspace was dimly lit, Gon's eyes lighting the way for Killua to see. Killua awed at the photography, convinced that famed artists were behind the masterpieces. Gon tugged his sleeve, pulling him in the direction of a blonde man.

"I want to introduce you to my friend, the one who put all of this together." He tapped the man on the shoulder, the blonde turning around slightly. He smiled at Gon, and gave the same expression to Killua.

"Killua, this is my friend Kurapika. He used to go to Yorkshin when I was a sophomore, and we talked about photography a lot. Kurapika, this is my friend Killua."

Kurapika shook Killua's hand, Killua noticing for the first time the intense reddish brown irises he possessed.

"Nice to meet you, finally."

"Finally?" Killua raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Gon, who simply smiled sheepishly.

"Before you arrived, he wouldn't shut up about you. Nothing but good things, I should add."

Killua felt the heat invade his cheeks, red surfacing on pale skin. If Kurapika noticed, he didn't specify.

"I've heard things about you too. You like collecting art?"

Kurapika's eyes danced around the room with pride, his unique eye color speckling under the fluorescent light. "Indeed, I do. I like surround myself with different inspirations at once, to keep me motivated. It's been a hobby of mine for a while, but I just started hosting these events. You can buy them too, if you wanted. I encourage you to buy them, actually, a good chunk of the proceeds goes to the artist."

Killua nodded, several pieces catching his eyes. "Mind if I go take some looks?"

Kurapika all but waved him off. "Please do, don't let me keep you from the experience." He chuckled lightly, generating an honest smile out of Killua. "Gon, show him around to a few pieces. And of course that means your own. I'll talk with you guys later on." Kurapika danced through the people surrounding him, finding another party to chat with.

Gon led Killua around the curvature in the wall towards the back. "It's better to work your way up." He knew Killua would question where they were going.

Killua stopped halfway at one picture that caught his eye. It was a black and white photo of a couple sitting in a park. Their mouths were wide opened with laughter, eyes glimmering with happiness. Killua could hear the conversations they were having, and he couldn't stop himself from touching the frame. It was the most genuinely honest photo he had ever lay his eyes on. The couple had retreated to their own world, the outer perimeters of the photo blurred out to signify that no one else mattered.

"Killua?" Gon turned around, walking back to Killua. His breath caught when he looked at what caught Killua's attention. "You like that one?"

"Yeah," Killua marveled, voice sounding distant and light. "It's so real, it's beautiful."

Gon looked at the photo, one hand gripping the other forearm. "What do you see?"

"Love." Killua said that word effortlessly, and yet the nausea couldn't be stopped on its completion. Maybe that's why he resonated with it so much; it represented what he wanted to have. "Pure love, it's almost envious. The photographer has a true gift to capture such a raw moment. I wonder who took it," He bent at the knees, coming face to face at the white index card. His eyes widened at the revelation. He looked up at Gon, who looked bashful.

"You?" he blinked away his shock. "You took this?"

"Yeah, I did."

Killua stood now, accidently brushing arms with Gon. His skin felt warm against Killua's ice. "Wow, Gon, you're amazing."

Apples returned to cheeks as Gon's stomach fluttered. "T-thank you, Killua."

Killua stared at him for a while, marveled at how Gon was able to make him feel something so profound, with only a photo. Gon's mouth parted into a perfect circle, unable to move away from Killua's gaze. Thumping hearts that sounded like firecrackers. Killua felt the inexplicable urge to have warm golden skin on his shoulder again. Killua used to wonder if he merely a corpse. When Gon was around him, he felt alive.

Gon's tongue became a desert, and he swallowed to break the silence. "Umm…do you want to know the story behind the photo?"

Killua breathed life back in him, his fixation on honey making him feel dizzy. "Yeah, go for it."

"Well, these guys are homeless. I talked with them every so often when I was bird watching. They're really in love, it's actually very beautiful to see. A few weeks before I took this photo, the one on the left was beat up pretty badly. A hate crime by some drunken assholes. I heard about it and went to see them, and they didn't let it phase them. They said they only needed each other to be around to make everything alright. I took this picture afterwards, I edited the bruises out, I wanted people to just see them."

"Sometimes," Killua said dazed, "scars can never leave. Sometimes, they're just a part of who you've come to be."

Gon looked into a discolored brick, mind looping around Killua's words. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

More silence engulfed between them, Killua seeing a wave in the ocean of Gon's eye. He instinctively reached out, touching Gon's shoulder, their breathing mingling.

"Gon," Killua breathed, hand twitching on Gon's shoulder, "are you alright?"

"Yeah," Gon lied, letting whatever cloud looming over his head wring out, "I was just thinking about those guys."

"When you say guys," Killua stared at the picture again, removing his hand and placing it in his pocket, "are they both-"

"Men, yeah. I know the hair sometimes throws people off."

"Oh." Killua looked at the picture deeper now, his awe of it growing. He looked at their happy faces, the way their fingers intertwined. Letting whatever malicious energy swimming around them unable to break their barrier. A feeling bit the inside of his chest.

"That's very sweet."

Killua and Gon turned around, a voice singing through the shadows. Killua's eyes narrowed at the realization of the owner.

"Illumi," Killua snarled, anger hugging his body, "what the hell do you think you're doing here?"

Illumi chuckled, shaking his head at his little brother. Killua had to look away from his ghosts of eyes.

"Mother," Illumi reached his palm out to invite Killua's hand, "says it's time to come home."

I am soooo sorry about the length of this chapter, guys. I just had a lot of story.

Thank you to the awesome readers and commenters of this fic.

Means a lot to me, as always.

-Till next time,

Bitchii-usa