Two

Home

The air inside the Zoldyk mansion was always thick with tension. Plastered smiles on the family members' faces tried to perpetrate otherwise, but there was denying the stench of darkness. Killua was discovering more and more that he hated coming home, the tension cutting off his breaths the moment he opened the door. His mother, Kikyo Zoldyk, played jazz and classical music daily to create an atmosphere of comfort, but Killua knew that she was trying to mask the hateful atmosphere.

He made a direct march to his bedroom, avoiding all contact with his butlers as they approached and offered to take his belongings. He needed to rest before having to sit through another family dinner with false smiles and pretend conversations. He plopped down on his mattress, letting himself sink in until he thought he would dissolve through the floors. He stared at his ceiling, eyes partially closed, humming along to the saxophone that intruded in the crack of his bedroom door. His mother, although he would never admit it, had impeccable taste in music.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, temporarily stopping his concert. It was an odd sensation, considering that the only ones who ever called or texted him was his immediate family. And when he was home, his phone was pretty much nonexistent.

He entered in his unlock code, thumb lazily sliding across the glass, and discovered an unknown number had texted him.

-Hey Killua!

Killua raised an eyebrow at the unknown contact, memory slightly recalling that he had recently given his number out.

-Who is this?

Killua stared at the green and blue bubbles on the screen, anticipating the answer that he had already known. It was as if time had suddenly slowed down, waiting to see who it was. Killua sighed, mentally reprimanding himself for worrying about it in the first place.

-It's Gon!

Killua sucked in a breath of air at the name on his screen. Of course it was Gon, but a part of him wanted to see confirmation, as if anyone who wasn't blood related would bother to contact him.

-Figured as such. Sup?

-Nothing much. Free tomorrow. Want to grab lunch and talk for the project?

Killua read the last line over and over, heat rising in his stomach. He tried to recall the last time that he was invited-let alone went out- with anyone who wasn't conducting business for his family. He scrambled his brain trying to find an answer, not completely sure how to handle the situation.

-I have lots of homework to do.

-On a Saturday?

Right. Killua was in public school now, which meant that weekends were used for relaxing and preparing for another dueling week of chalk smells and bad cafeteria food, and less for strenuous school work. Would it be so bad to have a meal with someone outside of his family? Especially if it involved school…

"Killua!"

His mother's voice jolted him upright as If she had jammed his finger into an electrical socket. Kikyo had that effect on all of her children, giving them slight pained anxiety at her beckoning. They were all aware would could happen to them if they didn't fit the mold of her perfect life.

"Killua, it's dinner time!"

Killua sighed, staring at his phone again, fingers aimlessly typing another excuse to throw Gon off. His thumb hovered over the send, before deleting the entry and tossing his phone to the side. It shouldn't be this difficult to have real fun outside of campaign trails and political dinners, yet Killua sucked down the pang of anxiety that swirled around his throat. He could think of a valid excuse later.

There was little left to the imagination when it came to nightly dinners.

Kikyo wasted no time working her butlers to their exhaustion, demanding pristine silverware and dishes with names that were hard to pronounce. Half of the time, Killua couldn't tell the difference between the duck and the vegetables, but he would scarf it down with farce satisfaction none the less.

He plopped down in his seat heavily, prompting a swift scolding from Kikyo, before straightening his back in his chair. He wondered what other teenagers his age ate with their families for dinner, imagining warm lighting and greasy food and relaxing atmosphere. Basically everything that his home was not.

A silver ladle brought him back to reality, his brother Milluki elbowing his side to get his attention. Killua cut his eyes at him with Milluki returning the stare down. Kikyo imposed a strict rule of no one eating until everyone had food on their plates, and Milluki wasn't the type who could wait patiently for a meal. Killua placed the bare minimum on his plate, hoping to get through this meal rather quickly.

"So," Kikyo pursed her lips, pouring sauce on top of her duck, "how was your day today, Killua?"

He knew that she wasn't genuinely asking for the concern of a mother, rather she was hoping that he would tell her it was terrible so she could send him back to charter school. He stuffed a piece of meat in his mouth, his teeth violently shredding it apart. He shrugged his shoulders before swallowing.

"It was good. Nothing too much to talk about."

"Really?" she placed her chin on the back of one of her hands and squinted her eyes in his direction, "all of the begging and debating you did, and you don't have anything to say?"

He let his eyes fall to the table, unable to mask the scowl that emerged on his face. "There's nothing much going on right now, Mother. It is the start of the school year, after all."

"Hmm."

His father, Silva, cleared his throat, momentarily breaking away from Kikyo's mischievous plan. "Have you looked into the debate team like we discussed, son?"

Killua shook his head, stuffing another piece of meat through his lips. He hoped the more food he had in his mouth, the less he had to talk. It seemed like the attention was always on him and his activities, despite being the middle child.

"Father," Killua oldest brother, Illumi, spoke for the first time since arriving at the table, his voice whimsy and comical, "do you really think it was best to let Killua move to public school in his last year? His old charter program would have given him more training for when he joins your political group next term. I don't believe public school would suffice as adequate education."

Killua's eyes darkened, his blue irises swimming with hatred at his brother. Illumi looked at Killua and smiled, his head tilted to the side. "I only want what's best for you, Kil."

Killua swallowed his half eaten duck in his mouth to avoid his retaliation. You are the last person to try to help me, Illumi. I wish you weren't even here.

"I believe," Silva wiped his mouth with a napkin, "that Killua should experience a little bit of freedom before devoting his life to the family. It may help him connect with the people later on. Every vote counts, always remember that, Killua." He pointed the end of his fork at Killua before jamming it into the string beans perfectly formed on his plate.

"The keyword here is little freedom," Kikyo needed to have the last word, her status of matriarch was one that she treated like the government position she held, "so don't think you can overdo it. There's not much you need to invest your time in at public school."

"I agree, Mother." Illumi looked blankly at Killua, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth. "Overdoing it could become dangerous for our little politician."

Killua wanted to vomit in Illumi's lap. His brother, he discovered daily, was completely insane. He couldn't stop himself before the words poured out of his mouth.

"You mean, overdo it like you did, Illumi?"

The dinner table fell in silence, all five occupants' eyes darting in Killua's direction. If it were possible, Killua could see the black cloud of anger that swirled around Illumi's body. He heaved slow deep breaths, trying to contain his urge to reach across the table and grab his little brother by the throat.

"Mother," the youngest sibling, Kalluto, grabbed Kikyo's sleeve, tugging it downward. "What does Killua mean?"

"Nothing, dear," Kikyo forced the words out of her clenched teeth, her eyes cutting daggers into Killua's cheek, "your brother is just being silly."

"Killua," Silva's words came out like hardened bricks, and he had to swallow their intensity so as not to crack the porcelain foundation that his wife had successfully built. "You will not speak to your brother in such a manner."

Killua darted his eye back and forth between his parents and Illumi before taking a deep breath and dismissing himself from the table.

"I have homework to do, so I'm retiring to my room for the evening."

"Killua!" Kikyo slammed her palm into the table with such force that it caused the silverware to create soft music. "Dinner is not over with, so come back here!"

Silva shook his head in her direction, silently telling her to let him go. Kikyo cleared her throat, her anger rising out of her like a phoenix.

Killua stomped into his room and slammed the door, trying to choke back the hot tears that were uninvitingly streaming down his face. How much longer, he wondered, would he have to keep up this façade for Illumi's sake?

He looked over at his forgotten phone, a text message illuminating the screen.

-?

He took shallow breaths before furiously typing away at his keypad. As usual, a night alone with his family could push him to do things off of pure adrenaline. He pressed send before the anxious voices in his head produced any more excuses.

-Sorry. Got sidetracked. Tmrrw at noon. You pick the place.

Gon, as Killua discovered, had a very unique spirit.

As instructed, Killua met up with the bronzed teen at a park in downtown Yorkshin. Killua had to pretty much sneak out, telling his butlers he was going to the library as he breezed through the door. That should buy me some time, at the very least, to eat and chat. I'll be back before my Mother has a hemorrhoid.

Killua had to take public transportation via the train, an oddity that was almost never used by the Zoldyk Family. He mainly relied on his butlers to transport him everywhere, including going to school. At his insistence, he would have them drop him off several blocks from the building and walk the rest of the way.

It was quite an experience, much to his delight. The outside world where people didn't adorn themselves in fancy suits that cost a mortgage or speak with sickening eloquence was beautifully crafted. Aboard the train, he couldn't stop himself from sketching out the vivacious scenery. A mother coddled her infant close to her bosom, humming a soft melody near the baby's face. Occasionally, she would kiss the top of the tiny human's forehead, pink rushing to her cheeks with pure, honest love. Killua concentrated on that part mainly, using a colored pencil to accent the different colors of warmth. Soon, he had made a mess of colored pencils scattering the empty seat next to him, the attention to detail itching through his fingers. He hadn't meant to stare so long, but Gon and Bisky's words of capturing the moment resonated in his heart. The tendrils of her hair were swimming through the paper, swirling around her face framing its perfection. The woman looked at Killua and smiled warmly, waving a hand in his direction. Killua felt a mild heat rise to his cheeks, and he glanced back down at the sketch book in his lap. She got off at the next stop, but not before stopping by Killua's seat.

"My husband," she gushed, "is a sculptor. I know the look of an artist's concentration. I hope we were good subjects for you."

Killua nodded his head, swallowing down whatever unprepared response that would trickle out of his mouth. Luckily for him, to his satisfaction, the woman disappeared no sooner than she had made her observation.

The cool, almost-Autumn breeze whipped through Killua's hair, causing silver strands to playfully graze his cheeks. It tickled, to his amusement, but to avoid looking like a complete maniac, he suppressed his laughter. He approached the park where Gon suggested they meet, spotting him kneeling down on the ground. Gon was carefully trying to capture two birds that were sharing bread near a bench close by, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

"Yo!" Killua edged closely, careful not to startle Gon from his art.

"Hi, Killua!" Gon did not take his face away from his camera, his finger mashing the button on top several times. "We can go in a bit, I promise. This was just too goo d to pass up."

Killua moved to his right, looking at the birds on the ground. They didn't look all that spectacular, just two birds squabbling over the last piece over their meal. But Gon looked enthused, his tongue wetting his bottom lip.

"What do you see when you look at them?"

"Huh?"

"The birds," Killua pointed in their direction, "what made you want to capture the moment?"

Gon finally broke away from his lens, his eyes watery with excitement. His eyes softened to a glowing euphoria, a pleasurable breath surfacing within his chest.

"They," he said softly, "looked very much alive. I don't know how to describe it, but the way they were eating and being in each other's spaces made them look like they had never lived before. I don't know, I guess I'm weird."

Quite the opposite, Killua mentally commentated, you have a way of making others feel without trying. Or, you have that effect on me, anyways.

Killua laughed softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess you are Gon. It's cool, though. At least you're interesting."

Gon seemed satisfied with Killua's response, snapping one final photo before gesturing the silver haired teen to follow behind him. "Did you find the park okay? I know you're new to the area."

"Yeah, it was pretty easy. I took the train and the stop wasn't too far from here."

Gon nodded. "The train is pretty cool. I always get some good pictures when I ride it." He tapped the top of his camera a few times. "I'm never disappointed."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I even sket-" Killua ceased his sentence, afraid that he was getting too personal with Gon.

"You even what?" Gon playfully asked him, turning his head so that honey infused with blue. "You can't just stop in the middle of a sentence like that, you know."

"It's nothing," Killua waved off, "just some dumb drawing I did."

Gon turned around, walking backwards skillfully as if he was a circus performer. "Can I see?!"

Killua found it hard to turn down such a beaming face, but letting Gon see his art work was like opening up his head and asking him to poke around. There was just some things, that others didn't need to see.

"Maybe later," Killua closed his eyes so that he didn't have to face his disappointment, "I'm starving."

"Yeah, I guess we should get going," Gon turned back around and pouted. He was genuinely excited to see what Killua was capable of artistically. Something told him that Killua had remarkable skills. "I chose this café around the corner from here. They have really good coffee and some of the best spaghetti you'll ever have!"

"Spaghetti?" Killua mocked, lips salivating at the suggestion. He had only had the dish once, on accident due to one of his butler's decision to share his culture with the Zoldyks. Kikyo immediately had him terminated, insisting that spaghetti was a food that was eaten by commoners. Killua was thoroughly disappointed, his mouth still remembering the rich sauce accompanied by meat that swam over his tongue.

"Yeah, I have it like once a week. My aunt always yells at me for not eating home cooked meals, but I can't help it, it's so good!" Killua didn't need Gon to turn around to see that he was once again beaming a golden haze.

Sort of like the celestial sphere that was touching the back of his neck.

Gon didn't lie, this spaghetti was delicious.

Killua almost forgot to mind his manners as he shoved spoonfuls of the pasta in between his cheeks. Gon chuckled as red sauce drizzled down Killua's chin. Blue eyes looked at him with the innocence of a child.

"What's so funny?" Killua asked through mouthfuls of noodles and sauce.

"You have something right there," Gon pointed to the corner of Killua's mouth. Killua made a feeble attempt to remove it with his napkin, but more sauce lingered behind.

"Here," Gon picked up a napkin, reaching across the table, "I got it."

Killua remained frozen as Gon's skin made contact with his own. Gon's tongue wiggled out of the corner of his mouth again, his apparent act of concentration, as he set out to clean Killua's mouth. Killua moved back a bit when he felt the contact was too long.

"Thanks," he murmured, "you must be the nurturing type."

Gon shrugged his shoulders, returning to his original position. "I don't know, I guess I just pick up habits from my Aunt and Grandmother. Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable." Gon bashfully laughed, another time where he had been called out for not understanding boundaries.

"'S okay. It's just….I don't know…a little strange is all."

Gon raised his hands in defeat, an apologetic smile plastering his face. "Sorry again, it just happens when you hang around me. Feel free to put me in my place, Killua."

Killua nodded, taking smaller bites of his spaghetti. It wasn't as if Gon had offended him, but the close proximity was an unfamiliar territory in his world. His natural instincts took over, as a bricked wall was layered between the two.

"Actually," Gon reached around and grabbed a small sketchbook from his sack, "this is the perfect time to get a sketch out." Without confirmation from Killua, he furiously drew away at the paper, crinkling the corners with his heavy hands. Killua found himself interested in whatever it was Gon was scribbling, curious as to how Gon saw him in that specific moment.

It seemed as if hours passed before Gon lifted his sketch book in the air and beamed. "All finished! Do you want to see, Killua?"

Of course I want to see, idiot. "Sure, I guess."

Gon withdrew the book, placing it close to his chest and giving Killua a sly smile. "Then you first."

Killua gulped down his water to avoid the subject that he had hoped Gon forgot about. "Hmmm?"

"You heard me. I want to see what you drew on the train."

"That's not fair, Gon."

"How so?"

"Because," Killua sat back in his chair annoyed, "one is for school and the other is for sport."

"Well," Gon narrowed his eyes to a squint and slowly pushed the book back towards his sack, "I guess you don't want to see it then."

Killua breathed heavily before sucking air through his teeth. He cursed under his breath before retrieving his book from his book bag. He tossed it over to Gon before reaching out to take his.

Gon smiled brightly as he handed over his sketchbook, shuffling through the pages of Killua's. Both of their eyes widened at the other's discovery.

"Killua," Gon said awestruck, running his fingers over the paper, "this is amazing." The drawing of the woman on the train was done in a purple colored pencil, with wisps of brown framing her face in an implied blanket. A blue bundle was pressed against her cheek, her eyes closed with pink shading her face. Gon could hear the song that she was humming, a yellow light illuminating their bodies, the wisps coming to a soft end that blended in with the white page. "This is magical. It comes alive off of the paper. Seriously, it's like I can feel this woman's warmth radiating on my skin."

Killua blushed, but was too caught up in his own findings to properly reply. "Yeah," he mustered out, "I could say the same." Gon had shaded the page entirely with the lead of his pencil, using the eraser to shape out Killua. His eyes showed the same innocence that he portrayed earlier, a red colored pencil drizzling down his chin. Killua, according to Gon, looked unrecognizable in this portrayal.

He looked happy.

"This is a creative technique," Killua wanted to run his fingers over the page, but he didn't want to smudge the art, "I would have never thought to do this. It's incredible, it looks like a photo."

Gon closed his eyes, flashing a radiating smile. "Thank you! I like to practice here and there. I want to become as good as Wing, and he says that creating life in art is always important. I try to use that wherever I go."

"You succeeded," Killua awed, not lifting his eyes from the paper. "It seems like it took you hours to-" Hours! Fuck!

Gon's smile dissipated, he looked at Killua with confusion. "What's the matter, Killua?"

"I…um….I have to go." He gave Gon's sketchbook back to him and motioned for his own.

"Already?" Gon looked down at the watch on his wrist. "It's only five o'clock. I know it gets darker earlier than normal, but the sun is still out for the time being."

"It's rough to explain, I just have stuff I have to do. Sorry to jet on you like this."

Gon looked down at his half eaten plate of spaghetti and nodded. "I understand. You should at least take it to go," he motioned for the waiter over to the table, "it's too good to pass up."

Killua reached down in his pockets and fumbled for change. "How much for my half?"

Gon's smiled returned as if it had never left, his hand cutting off Killua's question. "No need. This is my treat, Zushi doesn't like pasta and I've been dying for someone to try it."

"Thanks," Killua turned his head to stop the blush in his cheeks, "but you don't have to."

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. You can pay for next time."

Next time? Killua whipped his head around, silver hair tangling into his eyes. He hadn't considered the possibility that there would be another time he would leave the house other than school. Gon, however, had already set it in stone.

"You look surprised," Gon laughed, his baritone rumbling the pit of Killua's stomach, "I know we just met about a month ago , but you seem like an alright guy." Gon reached around and played with the spikes of emerald black hair on the back of his head. "I don't know, I guess I thought that we could be friends."

Killua's eyes widened with emotion. Friends? Do I….have a friend? Is it that easy? Charter school was not the place Killua could make friends. The majority of the students were the sons and daughters of politicians, and just like their parents, they were always competing with each other. Killua lacked their passion, and therefore never found himself fitting in. He reached down and grabbed his backpack, not wanting to look at Gon in case the dam of emotion inside of him might break.

"I can't promise you that I'd be great at it. Friends, I mean."

Gon waved off Killua, his eyes never parting from each other. "Friendship isn't a skill, Killua. It's just something that comes natural to people. You're already doing it, and I think you're doing fine."

Killua looked down at his sneakers, a rush of heat circulating in his body. He turned on his heels, grabbing his container of pasta. He raised it in the air towards Gon, signaling his thanks. Gon nodded in return, leaning back on the chair's back legs.

"I'll text you later, Killua. Make it home safe!"

"Thanks, you too."

Killua strode out of the door, moving as fast as his feet would allow him to. He felt like was running from something versus to something, and that thought alone scared him.

I was always told, that I didn't need friends. I was always told that family is more than enough.

But I've never felt more at home, than I did in that café.

With Gon.

Killua quietly crept in the back door of his home, and much to his relief, no one was home. He sighed gratefully, happy to not have to explain himself to anyone regarding his whereabouts. A note was left at the end table by the front door, probably from Kikyo.

Killua,

Didn't know the library stayed open this late on the weekends.

Don't bother waiting up for us, we've all gone to a dinner by the beach at Father's bosses mansion.

They're supposed to be serving your favorite: stuffed crab.

I'll try to bring you a plate, but I can't make any promises.

We'll talk about where you've been tomorrow. DO NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE!

-Mother

P.S

Don't forget to feed it. Gotoh made a ham and cheese sandwich this morning. I'm sure that should suffice.

Killua crumbled the paper in anger, throwing it forcefully at the wall. He watched the paper fall to the floor as his breathing increased in irritation. He wasn't completely off of the hook, but that wasn't what fueled his fire.

How dare she, refer to her as it?!

He marched to the kitchen and took out pancake mix, eggs and bacon, furiously whipping a breakfast together. Even though it was dinner time, he knew his sister had a fond love for breakfast. He tried to control his aggression, careful not to mess up her meal, and prepared it on a small platter when it was complete. He grabbed ice cold lemonade from the fridge, pouring it into two glasses on the tray. He divided the meals into two plates and carefully carried the tray to the end of the hallway.

Using his feet, he kicked open the red velvet wall which doubled as a secret door. If anyone just came in the home, they would not question the validity of the hallway wall. Killua descended the stairs, coming face to face with another set of locked doors. He fumbled around in his pocket for the keys, careful to not spill the contents of the tray. He reached it and stuck it in the door, stopping and sighing before continuing.

He had to get himself together. He couldn't let her see him be a mess. He knew that he was all she had in this world, and to her he was as important as a superhero.

He breathed, swallowing the tears that crept to the back of his throat.

Of all the things that he hated about the Zoldyk home, this was the one thing that he hated the most.

THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING, COMMENTING AND ALL OF THE JAZZ ON THIS STORY. I'M IN LOVE WITH IT. I DEFINITELY ENCOURAGE ANY FEEDBACK FROM YOU ALL, GOOD OR BAD!

ALSO I CHANGED THE TITLE, AS THE LAST ONE JUST WASN'T WORKING FOR ME. I LIKE THIS ONE A WHOLE LOT MORE.

TILL NEXT TIME

-BITCHII-USA