One more chapter coming, so stay tuned.

Disclaimer: I do not own HxH, this is yet another Togashi brainchild.

"Damn it!"

He hadn't really meant to curse, but the words slipped from his mouth as he stuck a bloody landing. It had been intentional, of course, but that didn't stop the reaction that a scraped elbow would cause, a tingling pain shooting up his arm as a nerve was hit.

Killua was at the end of his rope: the silences, the sideways glances, the carefulness that was not familiar to them driving him to the edge. The weeks of watching Gon struggle with something internal, something entirely innocuous had made the coming end clear: Gon was slipping away.

He had to snap Gon out of it.

This time, when Gon pushed too hard after Killua had bumped shoulders with him childishly, Killua fell. He moved with the momentum, not cushioning his fall as he went, touching down awkwardly like an off-balance child might. It was nowhere near the worst pain he had ever felt, despite blood pooling from various scrapes, but the meaning behind his fall was enough to make his eyes sting. They were so close to falling apart.

A sad part of Killua expected his friend to watch, unmoved by the scene, oblivious as to what it meant to them. He feared standing up without aid, cradling his wounded arm against his chest and walking off alone. This was his test, to see if Gon had given up hope in them. To see if he cared. Killua couldn't remember a time before when he was so afraid of his closest friend.

Gon had only stared as Killua went down, his eyes not seeming to comprehend what was happening. They grew wide when Killua yelped out in pain, suddenly registering that the situation was not right, before the rest of him jumped into action.

"Killua!"

The reaction was delayed, but it didn't stop a look of surprise from spreading across Killua's features. Gon bounded toward him, dropping to his knees and grabbing the other teen's hands in his, looking concernedly at the younger one. It was Killua's turn to be dumbfounded as calloused fingers squeezed around his own, the pressure feeling both odd and distantly familiar at the same time.

He wondered futilely when the last time the two of them had touched.

Then, suddenly, there was fear as Gon looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time in what seemed like ages. The shock of pale blue grew wider when met with chocolaty brown, his heartbeat catching up with his brain as an expectant nervousness set in. He was looking at Gon, and Gon was looking at him.

Killua had never been very good at being vulnerable, but he tried his best.

For a brief moment, Gon seemed nothing but concerned, but that concern soon melded into confusion, the confusion becoming fearfulness. His eyes widened in horror as he realized that he held his friend's hands in his own, unable to look away from irises he had not seen in weeks. Knowing what was coming next, Killua opened his mouth to speak, but found that he did not have the right words.

It turned out not to matter; Gon had let go of his hands as if he had been burned, standing up faster than Killua had ever seen before, and turning his face to the side. Though he hid his eyes from sight, Killua noted with a twinge that his face was lined with conflict.

"Sorry."

The word came out muffled, as if spoken by someone who had never heard it before. Killua couldn't help but to hear more in it than was said. Gon had never been one for hidden meaning, but then again he and never run from something a quickly as he seemed to be running from Killua, and that was reason enough to make him wonder.

Like a child who knew they had done something wrong, Gon bowed his head before turning away, escape clear in his sights. Panic set in to Killua, the reality of what was happening feeling much too immediate for him to bear. They had been so close, so close to something, and something was better than nothing when it came to things between them.

Even if they were scared. Even if it meant the possibility of a future alone.

It had been Killua's test, so it was up to him to finish it. He stood in hazy alarm, the dull pain in his arm grounding him as he chased after the black haired teen. Gon jumped visibly when Killua grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. He turned back to him, shock and wariness painting over the color of his eyes in the same way that they painted over Killua's.

The panic subsided almost immediately into a morbid shyness, a fright at the fact that he was taking action, that he was challenging the system Gon had for whatever reason trapped him in. He stuttered slightly as he spoke, his body cold and clammy, wishing there were more he could say to try to communicate that what was happening was not alright.

"It hurts."

Gon could feel the hand clasped around his shaking. It registered immediately: the initiation of something other than a playful touch. The pale boy's eyes were clenched shut, as if waiting for a blow. Like his hand, his body seemed to tremble, down to every hair on his head.

Killua didn't complain, let alone complain about pain. Pain was something he was so used to, so in tune with that it had become a part of his being. Pain was not something to be shouldered like a burden for him; rather, it was carried with a certain amount of attachment. Without his pain, Killua would not have been Killua.

Gon knew the moment it was said that Killua was not talking about the cuts on his elbow or the impact of his fall. He knew that the kind of pain he spoke of was only the kind of pain he could give the other. Looking at Killua, trying so desperately to verbalize how he hurt, Gon found the fear he felt toward him becoming a fear of furthering his suffering.

A suffering that he had caused.

Nothing he had tried up until that point had worked to curb the feeling inside him that he was trying to kill without identifying. All it had done was cause more harm; the sight in front of him was proof of that. Knowing that there was nothing else to do, Gon caved to the instincts, relieving himself from the responsibility of holding them back any longer.

"I know."

With the hand that was not being held, the young Hunter brushed loose strands of white hair from out of Killua's eyes, reveling in their softness. He dropped his hand to the other's shoulder when his eyes snapped open, alarmed by the sudden touch. Gon was staring at him, more openly than he had done in the weeks past, a small tired smile on his lips. Rubbing a thumb along the hand that held his, Gon stepped forward, relaxing at the feeling of his friend's heat under his fingers.

They stood for what could have been hours, no more than a breath from holding each other, taking comfort in the fact that neither of them had turned to leave.

Reviews make the author happy. Just Saying.