He didn't get as thick as he always thought he would, apparently.

The him who'd seen twenty winters in comparison to his twelve, the him who stood at the breakfast bar of this quaint little cottage on the ocean, was lither than he'd expected to be. His waist was smaller, like Illumi's, shoulders broad but not the way his father's were. His hair hadn't grown out much, just grew a little bigger, equally as unruly as the mop attached to current him's head. Maybe the sleeveless, black turtleneck was to blame for an optical illusion, but he knew what his current body looked like, knew that the definition made more sense than bulking muscle. He'd been bred specifically to move in the shadows, after all, and a smaller body better lent itself to silence, to stealth.

It wasn't at all like… Gon's. He glanced between the Gon he knew, still small like him, defined but compact, clad in green shorts, white tank, big honey eyes scanning the kitchen of their- yes, their older selves had confirmed, their- cottage on Whale Island. He looked so curious, nose twitching, head tilting anywhere and everywhere, so much so that he looked akin to a bobble head. This Gon was his, as much his as he'd ever get to call him, the face he knew as well as he knew his own in the mirror.

The Gon that didn't belong to him, the Gon he recognized but only like a fleeting punch by the side of the head, he was wider. Broader. This was still Gon, the wide smile and bright eyes proved it, the way he kept looking at him, glancing from the side the way he'd caught his Gon doing sometimes, it was him. Despite the body that was so much wider than his own, the extra muscle and height- that was Gon, the Gon he'd know eight years from now. Sure, his hair fanned down to frame his face now, and the sweetness of his round face had curved into a smooth jawline, but he had the same curve to his lips, the same laugh, and he looked at him just the same way.

But he looked like the Gon he'd known, covered in red, his own, an ant's, nothing in his eyes.

That Gon's eyes were filled with emotion, though, just as bright as the ocean outside their door, and he seemed so happy despite how he was sitting across from the him of eight years prior, like he hadn't just faced NGL and walked out of it half-alive. Maybe, he'd have noticed the similarities less if he'd watched it all happen slowly, like the Killua who wasn't him (yet) had; but, he doubted it, because that Killua kept shooting the other Gon conspiratorial glances, like he wouldn't recognize the schooling of his own face. He knew that careful look in his eye, I'm hiding something. The Other Gon was in on it, too, kept smiling cheekily over at his older self like he, specifically, had nothing to hide.

Older Killua was covering up something Older- Other- Gon didn't care to.

It could have been a million things, if he was going to guess; they could be hiding an injury, that would make ample sense for somebody like Gon, who wouldn't care to hide spoilers. But, there'd been more than one occasion of which Gon had… underestimated the impact of something he'd said or done. Older Killua could have been trying to shield himself from pain when it was too early for him to know, would be the only one of the two to know how he'd react. Was it a death? Had something happened to Alluka and Nanika?! No, the Gon of eight more years wouldn't have been smiling so cheeky about something that bad. Even he wasn't oblivious enough to miss how horribly that would stab him. No, and the him of eight more years seemed… uncomfortable. He crossed his arms, shuffled from foot to foot, kept looking anywhere but at the Gon he'd grown up with. He wasn't sad, angry, or despondent. He was pouting.

"Neh, Neh, Killua~!" He winced as the present period's Gon grinned toothily at his older self, "We live here together?"

The older him clicked his tongue, shot Other Gon a side eye that made him snicker, for some reason, "We said that already. I forgot how horrible you were at paying attention."

"Oh?" Other Gon rested his elbow against the island, "So we agree I pay attention to you, now?"

Older Killua sputtered, "Th-That is not what I said! You-You were just stupid back then! I had to repeat things all the time!"

"Neh, Neh, Ki-llu-a…" Oh, his voice had lowered so much right there. It made him blush, the way this Gon said his name- like he knew something, like he was saying something funny, like he knew what it did to him. The way his older self visibly shivered told him he did know, "I paid you plenty of attention, I just didn't understand what you were saying."

Plenty of attention. He felt his Gon's eyes on him, and he scoffed, "Could'a fooled me!"

"But I do!" He nearly toppled over as Gon leaned into his space from his too-close seat on the couch, "I always pay attention to Killua!"

"Sh-Shut up, that's embarrassing!"

He guessed time didn't change them all that much, then. It was reassuring, that they'd stay the same, and that Gon would always be Gon (even if he looked like a nightmare), and he would always be Killua… a part of him was almost a little disappointed.

He really never would get the guts to confess, would he? Not that he thought it was a good idea, no matter which way he swung it; Gon would let him down easy, but they'd have to work to get back to normal. He would. Gon would probably forget all about it right away. He wasn't sure he could deal with that, either. Even if they'd go back to normal, he'd rather it never be a problem in the first place. He'd seen what happened when he let his emotions get the better of him, rule over his head. NGL happened. So of course this was what the future held; fresh wood floors, a big kitchen, open shades that led to the beach with whole-body curtains that swayed in salty, open air, and parted so they could see the sandy white plain and blue parting waves. They were hiding something, for certain, but was it truly as bad as his mind was telling him it could be? There were a million things his future self might elect to hide from them, not because it was bad, necessarily, because it might rip the will to carry on from him sooner than he was meant to lose it, but because there was an inherent risk that they'd ruin the timeline.

He allowed himself to relax into this new theory. Right. Bad things had come and gone, injuries, death, broken friendships, but they were still here, together, with a home of their own to come back to and that was enough to force this wide, uncontainable grin on his face; nothing they'd been through could be that bad, because he and Gon were still side-by-side, and Gon still looked at him with the stars in his eyes that he loved, and he still shined like the sun and smiled so brightly that it made it hurt to look right at him.

"Well, guess we should get you two comfortable while you're here. I'll show you to the gu- er, my room. Gon will just have to deal with me in his room for a while."

But then he turned and saw the way this other, unfamiliar Gon's eyes darkened at his back, lips pursed like his teeth were grinding behind the skin, amber scorched like charcoal under flame.

No, something was wrong.

The night had come and gone without much of a hassle, though Gon had disappeared for more than should have been logical for a bathroom that he later found was right down the hall. Especially with his sense of direction! But, no world-ending, soul-crushing catastrophe had made itself known in the time he and Gon had curled up in his older self's bedroom and slept like rocks in a quiet river.

(He'd noticed, as he was sure his older self knew he would, that there wasn't anything to confirm he actually lived there. The bedroom was bare of anything except the essentials- sheets, nightstand, bedframe, curtains. The closet was full, sure, but it was full of excess knick-knacks that were too sentimental to throw away, and the hangers were full of winter jackets and hats, both his and Gon's from the looks of them. So this didn't feel like his bedroom. Maybe he wasn't used to having a bedroom, anymore. Maybe he and Gon had only just moved in together. He couldn't harp on it. If he did, he'd drive himself crazy with paranoia.)

Time passed easily. He and Gon wandered the island, found small changes here and there, not things that made Whale Island unfamiliar, but little changes Gon was used to- the fruit stand was painted a new color, some folks had gray in their hair, and erosion had eaten away at some of the stone that led to the boardwalks. They'd seen Aunt Mito, and Gon's great grandmother was surprisingly still very much alive! She'd cooed at how young they looked, and Aunt Mito had made them some soup to eat for lunch. It tasted the same as the soup the Aunt Mito of their time made, right down to the slight taste of red pepper. It wasn't enough to feel jarring, just enough to remind them that this island was alive, alive and full of people and trees and animals that were ever-changing; this included them, in all of their adventures, sparring matches, travels, friends. The two of them would always be changing, but they'd change as one.

Maybe, just maybe, the him of eight years from now knew what that look in the Other Gon's eyes was; maybe it was just another change, maybe it didn't mean anything, after all.

But he noticed his Gon wasn't looking right at him. He seemed to cower away.

The nights passed by for six days. They woke up, ate breakfast in early sea sun through the open doors of this little cottage on sand, and then they'd go explore. Whenever they'd return, and it could have been anywhere between dusk to sunset's burial, their older selves would greet them with wide smiles and bicker over what to eat for dinner. Whatever darkness he'd spotted in Gon's eyes seemed nonexistent, now, his face had been all sunshine and tail-wagging excitement since then. The same could almost be said for his older self, though he appeared to sport a limp after Day Three, when he and Gon came back to find furniture upturned. The logical explanation was an impromptu sparring match, but the paranoid, unconvinced part of him said it was something more sinister. Gon refused to entertain him, refused to even speculate because he was sure their older selves weren't hiding anything- a very different tune, he recognized, from the one he was singing with him their first night there.

Day Seven saw a friend of theirs showing up, a friend they hadn't met yet who was, apparently, the best nen exorcist they knew.

She needed one more night to prepare; time jumping was no joke, clearly, and she'd need to really gather her nen, or she'd be left a husk by the end of this exchange. So they had one more night. One more night for him to discover what the Gon and Killua of eight years from now had been hiding from them… if he wanted to. Did he want to? The consequences were potentially, well, dire. He could demand answers, potentially doom their timeline by knowing what happens next, trying to prevent it and in turn cause something worse to happen. Maybe the cottage wouldn't be here at all. Maybe Gon wouldn't. Maybe he wouldn't. But if he left things alone, if he didn't touch it, if he kept these fears wrapped in a box and let this odd adventure go without harping on what they could be hiding… Well, he'd drive himself crazy trying to avoid it. Whatever it was. Whatever they were hiding, whatever terrible, horrid thing was going to happen that they felt they had to keep a secret. He'd go crazy trying to figure it out, and then drive himself crazy(er) trying to put an end to it before it could happen.

He wanted this cottage on this ocean with his best friend, his other half, his most important person, but he wanted it without the darkness in Gon's eyes, without the trouble it spelled in the red that set fire to Gon's gentle smile.

The worst thing about it, maybe, was that Gon had been looking directly at him.

"How do you do it?"

The Older Killua blinked at him, surprised, but only for a second. His attention squared back on the cereal box he was pouring. The pink, green, blue marshmallows toppled into the white bowl, each bunch making a slight tink against the edge. A distraction, clearly, "What do you mean?"

"You're me. You know exactly what I mean."

"A lot of things have changed, you brat," It was humbling, being called that by himself. Because if even the him eight years from now thought it, there had to be some truth. Well, there were worse things to be called, that was for sure, "The things you think are going to be a problem years down the road mean nothing to me now. Does that answer your question?"

He paused for a moment, took some time to consider all of the different things that could mean. His nose scrunched.

"... No," and it really didn't. Because it could mean he'd given up on Gon, but he simply didn't think that was possible. So what, he'd confessed? Been rejected and they'd been through all of the awkwardness he'd have to stomach after it? It could also mean Gon had found somebody else, effectively cutting out the middleman for both of them. He hated that scenario the most, losing Gon still and never getting to tell him the truth, even still. But it was also plausible. He was a coward like that, and if it meant Gon's happiness, he'd endure it until he found the flames of Hell themselves were less painful. But then there was another concept- he and Gon had stayed the same, he kept his feelings close to his heart where he'd never say them, and somehow it had come to bother him less over the years; this was the theory he was going with, "How do you live with him? I know how we feel. I know what he means to us so…"

To his surprise, the him of eight years more… snickered.

"Does it get easier?" He nodded, and his future self sighed and set the bowl down at the counter, abandoning it to pursue a seat next to him on the couch. Older Killua threw one arm over the headrest, then used it to pull him into his side, where he held him. His hand sat at his shoulder and rubbed comforting circles into the fabric of his hoodie. It was almost weird, like having an older brother that didn't want to stick a sharp, mind-bending needle in his head, and he thanked whatever deity was out there that both Gons were out and about fishing on their final day in the future.

And how could he be so kind to himself? How could he hold himself like this when he knew exactly how many bloodstained heads had rolled at his feet, how many hearts he'd stopped, how many lights he'd watched die in the faces of the most corrupt this world had to offer (except for him)? He was no good, no good at all without Alluka and Nanika. Without Gon and Kurapika and Leorio. Without Ikalgo and Palm and Bisky, and Wing and Zushi, too. So why? He rested his head against his own chest, heard his own heartbeat, waited for it to speed up with a lie, or an uncomfortable truth- he'd know what that sounded like. Instead Older Killua rested his head atop his, and he heard more than saw him smile, "I'll be honest, what we feel for Gon, that never went away. In fact, I think it's gotten stronger the longer I've stayed by his side." He wasn't sure how he felt about that. How could this tugging in his chest be even worse? But, it also meant he hadn't given up, "Gon hasn't always made it easy. There have been a lot of times where things would have been easier if I just didn't…" He heard him swallow, and he guessed that, even now, there were some things he struggled to say, "But Gon never let me give up."

"Huh?"

He pulled away, breath catching in his throat because-?

But Older Killua just smiled down at him, and it was soft, and he was so scared that he'd see sadness there, that he'd look up and see what he feared this road he'd chosen for himself would lead to, but nothing. He saw nothing but admiration, adoration, gratefulness, the way he was sure he always looked at Gon, the way he'd never expected to look at himself, "Every time I tried to, whenever I got scared and chickened out, or when he said something and I thought for sure, this is it… he never let me get too far. He'd always come after me."

So it had happened? He'd confessed? And by the sounds of it, he'd gone and ran away like a scared little baby afterwards. But, of course, Gon surprised him, came running after him, wouldn't let him sulk through it alone, even if he was the cause. It made him happy. It made him angry and he wanted to cry. Of course that made sense. The darkness in Gon's eyes was guilt, that's why it reminded him of NGL. His face twitched, and he wasn't sure with what specific emotion, exactly, but it made his future eyes bulge wildly out of his head, hands raised defensively.

"O-Oi! Y-You misunderstood me! It's not what you-!"

"Ki-llu-a! What did you say?!" Ah, that was the older Gon's voice, they must have come back.

His fists trembled at his side, eyes screwed shut. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't. Not yet. Right now he hadn't said a word. Right now, he hadn't confessed. Things were the same. So he just wouldn't ever say it. That had already been the plan, right? Nothing was changing.

"I-I didn't say anything! Uh, well, maybe I said too much…"

Warm hands were at his shoulders, and he could smell saltwater and freshly cut grass- Gon. But the hands on his shoulders were too big to belong to his Gon, "Ki-llu-a, we need some onions for dinner tonight, wanna come to the shop with me?"

He couldn't say anything. If he did, he was going to burst with something, and he wasn't sure what he would say or do, but he knew it'd be bad, so he nodded.

"Neh, Neh, Me Onii-san!" Is that what Gon had taken to calling his older self? That was so stupid. He was so cute, "Can I come, too?"

"Little Me, you have such a dangerous look in your eye. What exactly do you think I'm gonna do?" He heard Gon sputter before the telltale, low-volume rumble of him growling. Again with the odd behavior.

"Gon," Older Killua stood and stretched, judging by the slight bone-cracking and the grunt. How could he be so casual, right now? Was he playing this off as a fight? Well, that was the smarter approach, "You already know how to cook by this age, right? Why don't you help me get the broth started?"

"A-Ah, but-!"

"Gon," Again, he schooled his facial expression into something less telling, a trick the Gon holding his shoulders must have been well aware of, judging by the slight squeeze of his shoulders. His Gon looked back at him, wide puppy eyes, slight pout. What was he so worried about? There must have been something, because he had no other reason to object like this, "Do as I say for once, will you? We'll be back in twenty minutes." Any later, you know there was trouble.

If either of their future selves picked up on the implication, they didn't react. Gon seemed to pick up on it, but instead of a sharp nod, he got an even more pronounced pout, and an uncharacteristic glare at Gon's older self.

On their way out the door, his trained ears picked up on Older Gon whispering to Older Killua:

"You! Are so! Paranoid!"

"Yeah well you're jealous, apparently. Eyes on your own pot, Stupid."

The walk to town wasn't that long- took seven minutes, just about, but it'd taken them ten, which left them with less than that to get back to the cottage before alarm bells started going off for Gon. He'd been certain Older Gon had understood that, knew exactly what he'd been implying because he knew damn well he and Gon had communicated like that a thousand times. But he seemed to pay no heed to it, took his time with his hands raised to brush vines and branches out of the way, a smile on his face that reached his eyes. He looked just like his Gon, right about then, with the way the sun started to set over Whale Island. The doubts he had, the theories he'd started to consider, that the men they'd run into were imposters of some sort, those were starting to drift off as calmly as slow waves hit shore. The longer he stayed in his proximity, the more sure he was that this was Gon. He could feel it in his bones; he was starting to smile for no reason.

And isn't that why he fell for Gon in the first place?

He could feel Gon stealing glances at him from the side, not because he felt his eyes baring into his skin, but because he could practically feel him beaming.

"Oi, if you have something to say, say it," He side eyed him, nose scrunching as he stuck his hands in his pockets, "Of all the ways you could have grown, I never would have expected you to suddenly develop a sense of shame."

Gon choked a little, but he still chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck, "Ah well, it's not exactly that…"

They were silent for a moment, and he welcomed it. Even on the serene tropical getaway that was Whale Island, he'd had a thousand voices in his head, screaming at the top of their metaphysical lungs since they'd arrived. Bisky telling him to man up. Gon's hand holding him still. Illumi's haunting voice, telling him to run, run, run because he couldn't see what was ahead- it was all driving him crazy. This moment of peace, where all that mattered was the fresh air and bustle of the town, the wind in his ear, it was exactly what he'd needed.

But Gon never let me give up.

So what? He kept him on some kind of string? Let him run sometimes until it was far enough, until he called him back the way he retracted his yoyos? That was cruel, but he knew him, and he knew Gon might have just been selfish enough to do it… but only because he was too much of a coward to end it, himself. No, he couldn't get mad at Gon for something he hadn't even done yet.

"Neh, Killua? Have I told you the story about The Little Mermaid before?"

"Mmm? The Little Mermaid? Isn't that a children's fairytale?"

Gon laughed, "Ah, yeah, but Whale Island tells it a little differently!" He wasn't sure why, exactly, he was going on about a book most kids had picked up or heard of at least three times by grade school, but eh, what was the harm? The sun was setting on Whale Island eight years from now, and somehow, he'd be happy.

Gon cleared another branch, holding it up for him to pass under effortlessly. Gon shot him a smile, and he turned away, "You know the story, right?"

"Sure. Some stupid mermaid throws away everything she's ever known to be with some guy she met once. Then when, surprise surprise, he has a fiance and she realizes that he'll never love a freak like her, she tries to kill him. She fails, she stabs herself, and returns to the sea as nothing more than cheap moss. It's a cautionary tale." Of which he was familiar with a great many more. Caution. Fear. That was how they'd kept him on a leash for so long.

Gon seemed to fall silent at that, probably stewing about his family again. He didn't blame him, honestly, it was the one cautionary tale he'd seemed to take as a road map. Saying it aloud confirmed as much. Funny, though, he didn't think he'd ever regret his decision, nor would he ever return to the Zoldyck Mansion willingly… and even if he tried, Gon would stop him.

But Gon never let me give up.

Maybe that was what he'd meant.

"Mmm. Whale Island tells it a little differently," They'd reached the paved path, now, which meant it wouldn't be long until they reached the village and its shops. They'd be closing soon for the evening; if they didn't want to bother Aunt Mito for onions, it would be smart to move a little faster.

But Gon kept his normal pace, unbothered by the way the sun was setting, and the way night began to fall over the trees. He faced forward, face perfectly neutral. He thought, fleetingly, if he'd taught Gon how to school his expression, too, "You know, she didn't just meet him once. She saved his life. That's the same in both stories."

He almost scoffed. Like that made a difference in the end.

"And there are a few things that are different, like his fiance was actually an imposter, and he only fell for her because she was using the mermaid's voice!" Oh, that was right. That was the payment for becoming human, wasn't it? Her voice. She communicated with her body, never got to say what she actually felt. He'd always assumed it was why she'd been disregarded by the prince. She couldn't say a word, but his fiance had a beautiful voice, "... but the biggest difference is that he chased after her."

"Huh?"

"Yep! He could feel the tears she was crying when she couldn't kill him. People read the next part in all kinds of ways! Some say they landed on his face, where his eyes were, some say they landed on his chest, right where his heart was, but every story has one thing in common-!" Gon turned to him, and the smile on his face was as wide as the ocean itself, five times as bright even without the sun, even as the moon peaked beyond the sea and the stars sprang to life. He found himself, despite himself, in awe. Even now, even eight years from the person he was today, Gon was light, and how could he have ever thought he was someone else?

"... It was her tears that communicated how she felt."

His eyes widened, and Gon held his hand out higher, there for him to take, splayed palm just as open as it was three seconds ago, just as open as it had been a year ago when Gon showed up, heart in hand at his front door.

"He doesn't let her take her own life. He catches her as she falls from the plank and he tells her that he's never going to let her go, again. And he doesn't! He takes her as his wife, and they live happily ever after! I don't know about you, Killua," That wide warm smile twitched upwards, just slightly cheeky, and his heart could hardly handle it, "... but doesn't that sound like a future worth fighting for?"

Oh. Was that it, then? Was that what he'd been missing?

Tears welled in his eyes, and he shamefully hung his head and wiped at them, almost too viciously.

"Yeah, yeah that sounds just right!"

It'd only been a few hours since they'd returned from the future, and most of them had been spent sleeping the day away in Gon's actual bedroom. She hadn't been able to return them to the exact spot where they'd been, a few countries over in Hanzo's neck of fields, but she'd been able to get them back to their Whale Island. Aunt Mito had been a little surprised, but she'd understood it was a Hunter Thing and immediately set to add to the pot of stew she'd been stirring for dinner.

It felt nice to sleep on a futon, actually, have his own space away from Gon and not have to worry about how his body would unfortunately splay itself throughout the night. Gon seemed unaffected by the change, though he'd stared at him all night whenever he'd thought his back was turned.

Morning had come before he'd gotten annoyed enough to say anything, and he only did so because he could still feel Gon's eyes peering into his soul, which was a little uncomfortable when he had a bad case of bedhead and his sheets were falling off the futon.

"Oi, oi, what do you keep staring at me for, huh?"

"Huh?!"

"You did it all night! What, is there something on my face?"

"N-No! No!" Seeing Gon blush and stutter was rare, but it was happening right then, his tan cheeks budding with all kinds of reds and pinks usually only he was victim to. He fumbled with his hands, and his eyes darted everywhere, even when he very clearly had nothing to stare at. It was new, and unfamiliar, and he almost thought Aunt Mito had slipped him something to calm the anxious, unquenchable energy he'd had when he'd realized they were home. His home, anyway.

(It wouldn't be his, too, for another eight years.)

"I-I j-just-!" Gon stuttered, stumbled, twisted and twiddled his thumbs. He tilted his head at him, not sure if he was bemused, curious, or annoyed, "... Killua, if you ever got married, would you want a ring?"

"H-Huh?!" Now it was his turn to burst cherry red. He floundered around on the bed, struggling to get up and away, away, away, "W-What the hell are you talking about! W-What's it to you, huh?!"

"Geez, Killua, I was just asking!"

"W-Well it's none of your business, right?!"

"But what if it-?!" Gon seemed to halt there, eyes widened. The red that'd been dusting his face before seemed to boil to a fiery, red-hot grade, like a thermometer bursting at the top. Steam gushed from his ears in three distinct gusts.

He watched as Gon pushed himself up off the bed, then followed him as he mechanically made his way to the bathroom and shut the door behind him with a CLAP.

He blinked, once, twice, then huffed.

(Beyond the bathroom door, Gon cupped his face in his hands, lips twitching, wobbling. The worst part was, despite the heat of his face, his back, his legs- his lips almost felt cold. And he knew why, knew exactly what he'd wanted for the last week. He pressed a palm to his lips, squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will the feeling away. He couldn't. Not yet. It wasn't time yet. He couldn't risk the future he saw, couldn't risk a future where he doesn't get to be the one holding Killua close like that. He needed to have control. Wait. Wait until Killua said it. Because then he'd hear it whenever he wanted. They'd have that cottage together, on the sea, and he and Killua would share a bed and he'd wake up with his fingers in his hair every morning. He'd have it all if he just… could wait.

I love you. I love you. Gon, Gon, I love you.)

Obviously Killua wasn't getting the full story, and it caused him a lot of pain. Luckily for you readers, Gon did! What exactly did Gon see on Night 1 to cause such an odd change in behavior?

If you wanna see the Rated M extra that was deleted from this one-shot, you can find the link to it on my tumblr at iamwhelmed