"Can you just leave it alone? I can't talk right n- actually, forget that. I could talk, I just don't want to."

"Killua?"

It was Gon's voice, muffled by the door between them. Killua felt his neck get hot as he fumbled with his phone, slippery in his sweaty hand. Had Gon been able to hear him this whole time?

"Gimme just one sec, Go- no, not you. No. I don't have to- like all things in my life, this is none of your- don't you even, Illumi. Don't use her as fucking leverage with me. Why do I even have to- Yes, her, you colossal assh- no. What's wrong with you, honestly? Just… uh huh. Yeah, you do that. I have better things to do. Stop calling me."

With an overly forceful click of the decline button, Killua threw his cell phone over his shoulder. Stop. Breathe, he told himself sternly, You can make yourself breathe. You can't do anything about your batshit insane family, but you can inhale and exhale and not freak out your best friend by doing dumb shit like throwing phones.

"Oh good, you're off the- hey, are you okay?"

Killua tried to make his expression neutral- tried and failed, if Gon's tone was any indication. Aloofness was a default for him, but he tended to trip up around Gon. Which didn't bode well.

"Yeah," Killua choked out, "Yeah. Just a thing."

Gon's eyes were still wide and wary, but he left a laugh creep into his voice as he said, "Yeah? Well as long as your thing's over… "

Relief should have been washing over him, but Killua was a little unnerved at how quickly Gon dropped the subject. Which was completely stupid. It wasn't like he wanted people digging into his personal business. And it wasn't like they actually cared, anyway. They'd ask the questions that they felt they should, try and act like the good guy. Not that anyone could really understand, even if they were trying, for real. Which they weren't. And, fuck, he had totally been zoning out. Somehow Gon was done talking, already looking at him expectantly.

"Hellooooooo, Killua?"

"Yeah? I mean, yeah, that's cool."

"Wow, I really underestimated you, Killua," said Gon with a raised eyebrow, "I told Kurapika no way would you ever volunteer to run charades."

Fuck and a half. This is what he got for tuning out Gon. Killua would be stuck supervising fucking charades. Which- oh my god-

"Isn't Palm the one who runs the charades thing?" Killua asked with calculated indifference, "With what's his name? Zepile?"

"Mhm, Yeah. But this morning him and Leorio both got super sick. Like, I heard Zepile was on the top bunk and projectile vomited and it got all over the floor and the Leorio stepped in-"

Killua tried to hide his revulsion, but a shudder gave him away. Gon chuckled.

"Just making sure you were paying attention." Gon said, smirking, "So anyway, Leorio asked Kurapika to do it, but I think Kurapika's against helping Leorio on principle. He's totally desperate for someone to fill in, which no one wants to do, especially since we're all supposed to be training our teams for Color War."

Ah. He should've realized this would be about Color War, he thought, rolling his eyes. Gon had a mean competitive streak. Not that Killua was much better, usually. But still.

Gon pushed on, stretching his legs as he spoke, a habit that always made Killua feel embarrassed, like he should be looking away. His neck was getting red now, which was just great and he was already dreading having to interact with Palm and shit he had never found his cell phone, had he?

"It's also not helpful that Leorio keeps, you know, throwing up on people," Gon said, grinning too much for a guy talking about puke. "So he'd be pretty screwed if you hadn't stepped up to the plate like this. I guess that's what I'll tell the kids when they're asking for you. That you're taking one for the team- not our Color War team, but still. And you know, it's really big of you to put aside your weird thing about Palm. Noble, even."

"Well, you know me-" Killua drawled, stalling for time, suddenly realizing his phone was way under his bed- and phoneless, he had no chance of escaping charades without lapsing into a complete boredom-coma. "I do it for the- " Hm. Maybe Gon wouldn't notice if he just reached under and… "SHIT!"

His arm was stuck, because of course it was.

"Need help, Killua?" Gon said cloyingly.

"What? No! I, uh… meant to- I mean I'm almost- I just-"

"So, should I text Kurapika, let him know he's off charades duty? Or are you going to admit that you weren't listening to me?"

Killua looked up at him plaintively, still stuck, arm twisted.

"Please don't make me charade."

Gon smiled. "Meet me at the baseball diamond for practice in ten, 'kay? I've gotta, uh, get something from Leorio." Punctuating his sentence with a clap, Gon didn't wait for a response before turning and jogging out the door.

Killua let out a sight of relief, free from the looming specter of charades.

An annoyingly short amount of time after Gon left, Killua emerged victorious, phone in hand. Stretching his newly freed limb, Killua wondered idly what Gon could have possibly needed from Leorio, who was allegedly vomiting all over the place. Part of him thought maybe Gon had picked up on his foul mood, figured he could use the ten minutes by himself before interacting with kids. Killua grimaced, only in part because of the soreness of his muscles as he stood. If that were really the case, he wasn't sure he liked it. It was easier when no one knew how he felt. Gave him some semblance of control. But… whatever. He had to get himself down to the baseball diamond or face the wrath of Gon.

"This is bad. This is really, really bad."

"Hello to you too, Gon," he said wryly. Maybe also a little out of breath. But just a little.

Gon stood motionless, clutching a bulbous bag filled to the brim with red rubber balls and staring at the sky like a man with a vendetta. Surrounding him was their pack of campers, buzzing around them like especially hyperactive flies.

"The rain. Killua, please. Haven't you noticed the rain?!"

"Gon," Killua sighed, "I ran here. You saw me run here. You know, outside? Where the rain is?"

Gon didn't deign to answer that, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at the clouds. The week before Color War was serious business, if you took Gon's word for it. Well, him and all the other counselors, actually. They spoke of the event in the reverential, hushed tones that Killua reserved for- well, shit, Killua didn't talk about anything like that.

"We're not going to be able to train." Gon finally said, as if Killua hadn't come to that conclusion the second he stepped outside.

Killua deliberately restrained himself from rolling his eyes. What Gon referred to as "training" was really just a bunch of kids running around. If they were lucky, the kids might actually follow the rules. What was Gon envisioning? Elaborate strategizing sessions? Were there even any strategies in kickball? If so, it's not like he and Gon knew them.

"Gon, get it together. Its just kickball."

"But! But!" Gon clutched Killua's arm in a display of dramatic which, frankly, Killua thought was a little uncalled for. "We need to wiiiiiiin! This is the perfect team! If we lose just because they didn't get enough practice- I don't think I could take it, Killua."

"They're like, what? Eleven years old? They'll get over it."

"But will I get over it, Killua? Will you? Could you recover from the shame of coaching a losing team?" Gon asked, tearing his eyes away from the rain to look at Killua with puppy-dog eyes.

"Actually, yeah, I think I- ow!"

The kids were getting rowdy, Killua noted with mounting terror as he touched his exposed neck, raw pink from a rubber band slingshot assault. Children, he was learning, were monsters. But they were monsters that he needed to keep occupied.

"Gon, mope on your own time. We need to get them under con- QUIT IT, YOU GUYS!"

"But this is all we were supposed to be doing! Dinner won't even be ready for another hour!" Gon threw up his hands, looking accusingly at the rain, completely unaware of the rubber bands flying past him.

Killua swallowed.

"There is one thing we could do…" he started, hoping Gon would catch on and spare him the indignity of such a suggestion.

Gon grinned, which was never a good sign. "You don't mean- "

Gon's words were cut short as he dodged another rubber band, whizzing right over his shoulder. In a stunning display of reflexes, Killua caught it in his fist. Nearby campers gasped. With a withering glare for the benefit of his audience, Killua opened his palm, letting the rubber band fall into the mud.

Killua nodded grimly. "Charades. It's our only option."

Gon looked at him solemnly, loosening his grip on the bag. "You're a brave soul."

He sighed, grinding the rubber band into the ground with his heel. "I do it for the kids."