I'm Ready—KNUCKLE ⇘
I'm Ready—Shoot ⟹ TEAM

Ready—Palm

I'm Ready—Kite ⇘
I'm Ready—Gon ⟹ Team

"Stay aware of your surroundings at all times. Expect to toggle opponents frequently, even though you don't want to. Conserve stamina above all else; you don't have to knock anyone down, remember. All you have to do is survive."

"Uh-huh."

"And if the situation ever becomes two-on-one, I'll come over to back you up, alright?"

"Yup."

"And I know you said that you wanted Knuckle, but if you feel overwhelmed, it's fine to ask for help, you know? So just shout, and I'll—"

"Kite. It's okay."

Knuckle walked a bit further into the open, grassy field and asked, "Think this is far enough?"

Shoot gave a nod as he checked the others for their reactions. "No objections."

So they jumped a ways back from the rest, Gon and Kite following suit in the opposite direction, Palm sandwiched between the two duos. Knuckle dug a small timer out of his pocket before shucking his coat to the wind.

"Thirty minutes. Winners are whoever's still standing," he called out to them. "We good?"

Palm jerked her head in approval, and Kite waited for Gon to follow suit, but the boy did nothing.

"… No problems here," Kite eventually said for him, which seemed to snap him from his daze. Since when had he been the type to zone out?

"Let's go," the boy said simply.

Knuckle set the timer on the ground; Gon crouched into a fighting stance at Kite's side, strung as thin and tight as a bow.

"Time starts… now!"

Kite was only able to spare Gon a glance as he braced himself for Palm's immediate onslaught. Her aura clashed against his own, pushing for territory with every grasping lunge, boiling at the frontier of his senses. He could feel the hostility in every fist whooshing past his ears; she really, really hated him, didn't she? Intently watching for a gap in her motion, he found himself stuck in an evasive maneuver that just went on and on.

Skidding across the ground, Gon crossed his line of sight with a pair of bruised forearms held in front of his face. Shoot came up behind him to throw a punch, three disembodied hands weaving through the air—Conjuration, emphasis on Manipulation—only for Gon to pivot and dodge by a hair's breadth. Kite needed to help him—he'd promised to help him—but Palm just would not let up.

"It's time. Adding interest."

And what the hell was that white, fairy thing?

"At least let me explain, Shoot," Knuckle demanded irately. "Listen, kid. That strength you're feeling? It's from the aura I just lent you, and I charge ten percent interest… every ten seconds. When your borrowed aura plus interest surpasses your current POP, you'll bust. Your POP is…"

And Kite tuned out the rest as he deflected the thrust of a knife—where had she been keeping that thing?—and finally found his opening; he chained a side kick to an uppercut and knocked her away. Seizing the moment, Kite rounded toward Shoot—

"GE T BAC K HERE, YO U BASTARD…!"

And Palm was already back on the move. Everything about her was hard to deal with; her vicious attacks called for a tedious degree of caution, and her tenacity was enough to hold her through a fair bit of damage. It was just the right cocktail of aggression to let her (momentarily) keep up with Kite's far superior physicality and skill. And he didn't have time to just let her run out of gas.

"First comes rock…!" Gon chanted a ways away.

As he ducked another crazed swing of the knife, Kite was sorely tempted to get out Crazy Slots and end it right there. However, that was still too risky to try. His Hatsu was purely designed to kill—could hardly ever be used in non-lethal ways—and he didn't actually want to murder anyone here. At the end of the day, they were all technically allies. So Kite had to accept this handicap.

"YO!" he heard Knuckle shout at him. "Ain't ya gonna help yer buddy? He's facin' me n' Shoot, over here!"

At last, Kite slammed Palm into the ground, grabbed the blade from her fingers, and left her unconscious as he ran for Shoot. And Gon… did not look good.

Taking the knife had been a good decision, he soon came to understand; facing the hail of conjured fists would've been difficult if he had only his two hands to work with. Kite skillfully slashed through every barrage, pushing out a bit of En to cover his blind spots, and immediately whipped his head around to get a better look at Gon.

And the discrepancies his En had felt were represented by a black mist that ran up the boy's hip and upper arm. Was that Shoot or Knuckle's work?

"It's time. Adding interest."

And the fairy thing had gotten huge.

Kite focused back on Shoot, curious at his relative immobility thus far, and saw a prominent limp in his right leg; that was where the Rock had gone, it seemed. Now, if Kite could only push past the hands, he could easily take out Shoot and begin to work on Knuckle…!

Gon's body suddenly hurtled toward Kite for him to pluck out of the air. The mist was cold to the touch—textureless yet surprisingly firm, like a spongy blast of frozen wind—and as he set the boy on his feet, he noticed the jerky movements of the afflicted areas, as if trying to work around unresponsive muscles. It was safe to assume that Gon was no longer able to fight at full capacity.

That was fine. Kite would help him through it.

"WATCH OUT!"

He'd already known that Knuckle was charging at him, but he appreciated Gon's concern nonetheless. For a time, he bore the brunt of both Knuckle and Shoot's attention as he fled their advance. The fairy was Knuckle's thing, it seemed; no need to mess around and risk getting stuck with his own, if that was even possible. Gon took the opportunity to charge his Hatsu (first comes rock…!), and Kite led his pursuers back into the danger zone.

"Rock… Paper… Rock!"

Just in time, Knuckle dove behind Gon's fairy to dodge it. Even as Gon sent it flying into the distance, the fairy boomeranged back to him just as fast, growing ever-larger.

"Once more!" Gon roared, cocking his fist as Knuckle struggled to regain balance. " Rock… Paper… Ro—"

Shoot's hands shot past Kite faster than he could intercept, grabbed Gon by his gangly shins, and ripped his legs out from under him, sending him face-first into the ground. The orange glow of Rock dissolved with a sizzle.

"It's time. Adding interest."

Kite faced Shoot and bolted straight into the hand-whirlwind.

"It's time. Adding interest."

But something new lurched through his En—Palm, who tackled his feet and started biting his fucking ankle—

"It's time. Adding interest."

Kite punted her a few dozen meters away with his other foot, hoping to knock her out but unable to go finish the job. Slowly but surely, he was inching his way to the crippled Shoot.

"Tiiiiiiiime's up!"

And the timer began to beep.

Kite wheeled around and took a quick headcount; Gon was standing, as were Knuckle and Shoot and… yes, Palm as well. So they were all winners, it seemed.

"Sorry, Gon," Knuckle quietly said. Wide-eyed, Gon fell to his knees—a strange, purple cat hanging off of his shoulder.

Who could've guessed that Knuckle had a Hatsu like that up his sleeve? Forcing his opponent into a state of Zetsu for a whole month—it was almost unfair, how strong that was.

What had come next was a blur of words, silence, and panning distances. As all of Gon's hard-fought strength was ripped away, everything else that gave him shape and life seemed to leave him too. Just how much of the boy had been buoyed by hope, all this time? Had he not ever faced failure such as this?

The phone was unusually heavy in Kite's hand as he watched the screen darken from disuse. He'd only fought for thirty minutes, and his injuries were only a few grass-stains, yet weariness still bore down on him like a second planet's worth of gravity. Accumulated stress, or whatever.

He was standing on a ledge; that much he knew. Gon hadn't yet made a peep from within the bedroom, but Kite still felt compelled to check on him.

Despite technically having won the match, now that Gon was without Nen, he wouldn't be allowed into NGL.

And there he was, staring up at the ceiling.

What could he say to him? Something comforting, invigorating—encouragement, apology? Kite searched for the words but, as was so often the case, came up with nothing, leaving him mute and so very sorry.

"I'm weak, Kite."

Not true, was the first phrase that came to mind, but it died out in his throat. The next was, it's okay, yet that didn't work either. And the so am I would do him no good.

"I'm so weak…!"

He sat down beside him, and thankfully Gon initiated the next step by resting his head against his side. It was a surprisingly easy thing, for Kite to wrap an arm around his shoulders and press his nose to the top of his head. He smelled like dirt, grass, and pine needles; his tears were hot as they bled into Kite's shirt.

And the next part was going to be so, so hard.

"I'm not going to NGL."

Gon froze mid-sob.

"W-what?"

Kite let his silence speak for him.

"B-b-but…" Gon stammered, panicky and dismayed. "But what about Killua?"

But what about Gon? Who would protect him while Kite was gone? The only people he knew here were Spinner and the rest of the Kakin Exploration Team—and they couldn't even use Nen. And now Gon couldn't even use Nen, so for the duration of the mission (which could last anywhere from a day to a month), if Kite wasn't there, he'd be totally defenseless. What if chimera ants started crossing the border? What if he did something stupid, and what if he got into trouble? What would Kite do if he returned to find him missing or—or dead? What would he say to Killua? Or to Ging? Or Bisky?

Or himself?

(Listen. I know you're Ging's lackey, and I know he doesn't really do long-term relationships, but you have to stay here for Gon, okay? If you don't look after him, no one will.)

"No, Kite," Gon whimpered, grabbing hold of Kite's arm. "You have to go look for Killua!"

The task force could do that without Kite's help; it wasn't like there wouldn't be a search party if Kite didn't tag along. In actuality, there was very little Kite could add to the team in terms of looking for Killua. The only problem was how Gon would react to the idea.

"… Then you'd be left alo—"

"That doesn't matter!" Gon fiercely rejected. "Killua's in much more danger than I would be! He needs you, Kite!"

(If you don't look after him, no one will.)

"Please," he begged. "Please, for Killua…!"

Oh, Gon.

"I can't."

And he watched something crack behind the lens of his hazel eyes.

"Then get out."

Kite left the room, took a seat at the kitchen table, and wondered if he should've seen this coming.

Pitou was bored, Shaiapouf could tell. Thoroughly stir-crazy.

"A… familiar. No, something more tricky—like a trap."

Stir-crazy and at a loss for what Hatsu to develop.

"Nyaaaaa…!" it warbled, kneading its claws into its scalp. "Why is this so difficult?!"

Pouf strung out a heartbreaking note that wavered into nothing. "You're thinking too hard about it."

"But how else am I gonna figure this out?" Pitou asked as it stretched over the linoleum floor of the palace. "How'd you invent your own powers, anyways?"

"It came to me naturally," he said with the ghost of a smile. "Well, most of it did."

To accelerate the Selection of their human-chimera ant army, they needed to control the soldiers of East Gorteau, so Pouf had adapted his Hatsu to achieve this. In addition to mind-reading, he now had the power of mind-control at his disposal—provided the target had inhaled enough of his wing scales, of course. The ability also gave him a limited control over the target's cells, allowing him to unblock their Nen pores so they could deliver the forceful aura-awakenings of the Selection.

Subliminal Message: Sylvan Earworm. No one but Pouf knew the name.

"I wanna fight," it sighed. "A good fight, like that one from before…!"

"If another strong intruder appears, you should let Youpi handle it," he chastised. "You lost the body of the last one, after all. I'm sure the King would've much enjoyed eating it."

"It's not my fault it blew up!"

"All the same, had you been more efficient, it would've never received the opportunity to do so."

"Haaaah," it moaned. "Tell me what my Hatsu should be."

Thought like this required another sonata. "Healing would be useful," Pouf mused as he bowed the first phrase, fingers waltzing over the violin's fingerboard.

"Healing… Yeah… Alright!"

The door creaked open.

"I'm going to see Knuckle off to NGL," Gon said. Kite could infer the unspoken dare behind his words: And I'd like to see you try to stop me.

"I'll go with you," he quietly offered.

"… Fine."

So they walked to the dispatch site in a tense silence. The truck was already revved up and ready to go, with the front and back seats occupied by the other Hunters and Stick. Knuckle had no problem with them hopping in the cargo hold, though he wouldn't have had the right to stop them even if he wanted to; it was Stick's truck, after all, and he wasn't going to be refusing Kite anytime soon. And as Kite opened the back doors, he found someone already sitting inside: a young man with long, black hair, his green vest dotted with yellow pins.

"Oh," Gon said, something cynical about the way his eyes narrowed. "I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

The man said nothing, and Gon climbed onto one of the benches lining the wall. They obviously had some history, and despite Gon's apparent fearlessness, something about the stranger set Kite on edge as he joined them in the truck. Maybe it was the utter blankness of his face, or maybe it was the way his breathing made no sound, or maybe it was how his dark eyes followed the boy's every move. All Kite knew was that he didn't want Gon to sit directly across from him, so he gently nudged the boy further down the bench.

"Though, I didn't think I'd meet you like this," Gon added. "After all, you're only here for Killua, right? You don't care about all the people getting eaten. So why bother joining the extermination team?"

"The Chairman has made it clear that this is the only way to enter NGL," the man answered. His voice was as unsettling as the rest of him, the intonation painfully artificial in the way it mimicked a normal human cadence.

"After you find him, I'm going to take him back," Gon claimed. "And then I'm never going to let you see him again."

"… What did Killua look like?" the man asked.

"Wh—"

"When you abandoned him to certain death. What did he look like? Was he scared?"

And there was no way Kite was going to let that slide.

"Hey," he sharply interjected. "I'm the one who did the 'abandoning,' you know. So if you've got a problem, take it up with me."

For the first time thus far, the man turned his eyes on Kite. "Like that changes anything."

Meanwhile, Gon's hands had begun to tremble with some strange agitation. "How dare you," he whispered. "After everything you've dONE TO HIM, YOU ACT LIKE YOU CARE…?!"

And Kite actually had to restrain him.

"YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE HIS BROTHER," Gon spat.

"And what good has his 'friendship' done for him?" the man evenly replied. "If he hadn't run off with you, he would've never gotten into this mess. Do you, then, deserve to be his friend?"

Gon stopped struggling against Kite's arms, going slack in his grasp.

And Kite actually had to restrain himself.

"Anyone who ever saw them together could see that Killua loved being with him," he honest-to-God growled. "Relationships are more than just the situations they result in. Don't talk about friendship if you don't understand what it's worth."

"Oh, I understand," the man said, a vile aura rising around him as he eased up on the reigns of his bloodlust. Kite's aura was there in an instant, ready to counter anything.

And right before things could escalate any further, the truck lurched to a stop.

"… Are you going to let me through the door?"

"Get out," Kite told him.

He left.

"Don't listen to that bastard," he urged vehemently the instant the door shut, setting Gon back on the bench and trying to meet his eye. "It was not your fault, you hear me? It was not your fault."

Gon's voice was flat and dead as he said, "I know."

Author's Note:

In case you couldn't tell, Gon is a lot stronger than he was at this point in canon. Not that it's enough to let him take on both Knuckle and Shoot :/

Also, shit goes down next chapter. Prepare thyself