"When I found him in an alley in the middle of the night."

"It sure is crowded in the streets of Masadora with it being this late at night. I wonder what the rush is for." commented Biscuit as she walked alongside Gon through the bustling throng of people flooding down the narrow streets in the City of Magic. It was only just touching down ten at night and there was twice as many people in the later hours then there was during the day. She occasionally had to reach out and snag Gon before he strayed too far out of sight or was pulled in by the magnetic force of bodies moving in two separate directions. Even if his head of spiked hair gave him away, it'd be impossible to find him with so many others twice his size and towering his short, lacking height.

Gon fidgeted in place from an unidentifiable itch he couldn't scratch, when they paused at the corner of the sidewalk and she was scavenging for that one shop they always went to. The one with all the girly accessories and designer fashion clothes. "Is there an event going on, Bisky?"

"I don't think so but it would explain why there's so many people out tonight. I haven't seen this many people around before."

"Over there." Gon pointed, finding the building Biscuit was hunting for and she gave a small cheer and skipped over to it. He was forced to follow or lose his mentor; and he didn't want to go through the trouble of finding her without any Spell cards at his disposal.

As he trailed behind her, he started scratching halfheartedly at the inside of his armpits, careful to keep the cuffs of his spare green coat Biscuit bought him over the exposed parts of his scabbed, reddish skin. The breeze outside was chilly and although Gon grew up exposed to extreme climates, his body protested otherwise and forced him to wear something more homely. The angry scarlet glow would easily give away how often he picked at the skin there, scratched until it bled, and Gon didn't need Biscuit on his back about it. Not after she was already clawing her way up about him and Killua having sex, anyways.

It was his problem. He would deal.

"Ne, Bisky." Gon piped up, jumping forward a few paces when he'd fallen behind in his own thoughts, "What are you going to get from the store, anyway?"

"I want to buy some new hair bands. The one's I have now are wearing out and any self-respecting woman has to keep up with what goes on her body, does she not?" Biscuit's eyes twinkled in an unfamiliar light and Gon shrugged out of sheer misunderstanding. Girls and their ways of life were much different then a boys; at least in Mito-san's self-respecting words, so Gon never took it to heart what went on in a female's mind.

He was lost in his own mind already, as it was.

"Okay? Is that all we came here for?"

"Of course not, but I can't expect somebody like you to understand." Biscuit was laughing and Gon felt the invisible joke fly right over his head and onward. "Ohohoho!"

They stopped in front of the doorway inside and Gon scratched the edge of his chin with an uncomfortably sounding chuckle. "Uhm, alright. Bisky, do you mind if I go to another store for a little bit and grab something? I'll be done before you, so I'll wait right here until Bisky's done."

"That's fine. Go do your own thing."

"Okay. Bye." They both waved each other off and Gon strolled away to the distant ding of bells as Biscuit went inside her favorite girly store. As a necessary precaution, Gon figured it would be best if he at least went inside someplace for a little while, just to avoid arising suspicion if Biscuit were to be watching him. Gon was fully aware that someone had been spying on him as of late, but he didn't pay much heed to it when he was busy occupying himself with other things. He wanted to play it safe; better safe than sorry.

He went into the nearest building; a bustling information cafe, and headed straight into the bathroom the second he stepped foot into the warm, honey-coated atmosphere. It felt too hot even going inside that nice, comforting lounge and Gon felt sweat already gathered beneath his hair line, on the back of his neck, on the creases of his forehead; clammy and shaky just thinking about having to stay there too long. The eyes would be on him; he knew, and he couldn't handle that sort of thing when he already looked like an outcast as it was. He was an oddball of sorts – Gon did not need nor want the attention.

Luckily, the bathroom was empty and very clean; new fixtures, nice well kept stalls, and even the mirrors lacked their usual fog and grime that built over time with minuscule care. He picked the furthest stall and immediately slipped inside, locking the door with a click, before he slumped down on the toilet seat and let his face fall into his hands.

This sucks.

Gon firstly pulled off the jacket once he regained enough control of the tremors in his body and threw it to the floor, not caring if it got dirty or gross in stagnant waste water from leaking toilets. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small roll of bandages, his hands shaking so hard it was difficult trying to unwrap them from its tight-knit folding job. Gon glanced at the underside of his right armpit, where his nails had scratched until it bled; where the flesh there looked like it went through a meat grinder, and he ripped off a piece of bandage with his teeth.

The bleeding was starting to get heavy from where he dug too deep and Gon peeked closely, inspecting the wound there. Still believing there were still bugs crawling beneath the skin; he reached up and scratched again. The itchy feeling worsened as soon as the pads of his fingers touched it and he immediately started clawing at it again, digging until the blood coated his nails and the resulting pain of pushing too far into his muscle made him snap back to reality. Gon flinched with a gasp and grabbed a handful of toilet paper from the nearby dispenser, yanking so fast at the device it ended up breaking from his strength and the cheap paper spilled all around his feet.

He ignored it; however, and kicked his legs to untangle his boots, pushed them onto the toilet edge, and hastily wiped at the thick, mucous red fluid pooling under his arm. As soon as he soaked one handful enough he chucked it into the toilet; the soft plop not helping his sanity any more then necessary. There was a sense of vertigo here; as he repeated the process over and over again where the insects crept beneath his skin like there were tunnels inside, endless amounts of paths and roads for them to travel and the resulting world brought him into a realm of pain, of an itch he couldn't scratch, couldn't satisfy no matter how far he shoveled in.

Gon still couldn't cleanse the blood under his nails which is why he painted them black.

Because black color dominated red.

When he finally managed to stop the bleeding, he quickly took the piece of bandage and wrapped until it was snug and tight, possibly even cutting off circulation, but Gon couldn't feel it or notice the slight blue tinge his skin took when he tied it into a knot and forgot all about it once he moved to his opposite side next. There were bugs there too and he scratched, picking at the slightly less abused skin there, until small drops of blood kissed his blunt nails and Gon didn't feel the creepy crawlies anymore. He dabbed toilet paper there also, just in case, and wrapped more bandage on it to cover the blotchy surface.

Moving to his abdomen now, he balled up his tank-top until it was half-way up and checked the cuts and nicks there, from where he experimented with razors coated in drugs just for the hell of it. Someone had said it felt nice to have the burn of Meth on your skin and the only way Gon thought he could do it was with an easily accessible razor.

The skin around the marks was flamed, red and swollen and puffy, and Gon poked at it a few times to make sure there were no bugs there either. There was a little bit of white gunk; presumably puss, gathered around one rather large cut but nothing else. He didn't feel an itch there, so he took some bandage, wrapped up the inflicted marks, and dropped his shirt and forgot about it; like he did with all the others.

Gon had exceptional healing abilities. He'd be fine enough to fight off a minor infection, right?

His thighs were a little more worse for wear; jagged lines and ugly looking patches of peeled back skin, folded and bent and showcasing all the fresh, pinkish meat under it. Gon had picked his thighs as the war zone for his emotional burdens for a reason – It was easy to disguise and hide beneath the same, tacky green shorts he always wore. They were just bulky enough to conceal his slim, tanned thighs and it was the most room he could sink his nails into without having to cover them in frantic worry of being discovered.

Killua might have been the only one to take note of it when they were having sex, but he never did say anything, so Gon figured it'd be alright to continue. It felt good, having something to vent his frustration and anger out on; whether it be his torso or his thighs since his arms were much more exposed and much more used.

He needed them for another reason soon, anyway.

Gon licked his thumb and rubbed a bit of saliva over a few festered, bloody spots, wiped them away with toilet paper, and bandaged them right after. The rest of his wrapping was gone so he busied himself with collecting all the spilled paper on the floor and cramming it into the toilet. It took him a few tries to get it to flush but he finally managed and stepped out of the stall to a few other younger looking males; somewhere around his age, bored and checking themselves out in the available mirrors.

Perfect timing.

As casually as he could muster in a state such as his current predicament; the bugs inside his body were borderline insanity for the most part but he was learning to tolerate, Gon stepped up to the last remaining faucet and twisted on the knob for cold water. He dipped his hands into the crispy, icy liquid and sighed, a smile on his mouth with his eyes shut. The words that slipped past his lips next were practiced, easily rehearsed, and the only thing he could clearly remember best compared to anything else so far in his life.

"Ne, ne. Did Tina come today?"

"Of course she did. Chrissy, too." One of the boys instantly replied, tone as dead as his expression. "She brought the ice."

"Better watch out or she'll tweak the glass if there's ice involved." The second one responded, a cheeky smirk twitching at the corner of his lips, blotched white with faint chalky spots around it.

"I told you, she likes to crank that shit up, ass hole. Whenever there's ice in a glass involved, she's a freak. You're such a moron. It's so stupid."

"Did she at least do it quick?" Gon interjected, trying to hold back a knowing laugh but it came out as a weird giggle instead, "You know. Uses her special brand of speed and agility to at least do it?"

"See? Chalk it up to this weirdo to know what I'm talking about." The first boy scoffed, reaching into his pocket to pass a brown paper sack into Gon's eagerly waiting hands. Gon stuffed it into his own inside jacket pocket before he slid a card himself across the faucet, nonchalantly letting it fall in for the other guy to take. He flips it up between two fingers with a cool flare that Gon distantly remembers it being rather Killua-like, and the pair nod to each other in confirmation when they glance at it together.

"I do know what I'm talking about, don't I?" rushed Gon while trapped in the zone of their impeccable acting cover-up, a touch of humor in his voice, though neither male looked touched by the funnies when they stared at him, dead panned. "What?"

"Whatever. I'm outta here." The boy on the end shrugged, leaving the bathroom, and the first one slipped the card-turned-bill into the outer pocket of his vest with a devious smirk. Gon's face dropped, a lump in his throat, hard-pressed and as painful an ache as that which blanketed beneath his skin, laid over his bones and caressed him every day.

The same way Meth did to his life, in these instances where he was reminded that the brief moment of fun, of pleasure talking it up with strangers like they were actually friends, buddies, or even remotely near to being considered close – Was all in fact one big lie.

Kind of like Gon's life, truthfully.

"See you later, you fucking Meth junkie." He spat, actually spitting a wad of yellowish colored gunk onto Gon's boot, and the amber-eyed teen quietly watched him go, left him standing in absolute bone-chilling silence.

And absolutely alone.

I'm such an idiot.

Turning on his heel, Gon glanced back in the mirror and reassessed the image of himself; disheveled and messy. His hair was a disaster, onyx spikes jutting out in every direction like a bad case of bed head and his eyes had huge shadows hanging beneath them; nothing like the patches of red and white painting his golden hues like a terrible make-up job. He scrunched up his nose in disgust and splashed some water on his face thinking it might brighten up his complexion but all it succeeded in doing was giving him a glossy appearance, bronzed skin still dull behind the freckling water droplets.

I look terrible. A terrible idiot. Gon frowned, fuming. How long had it been since he saw his own face in a mirror? It had to be a week or more at best since they visited Masadora. With their training schedule, Biscuit kept them busy. Did Killua see this all the time? What did he think?

He must think I'm disgusting.

Gon splashed more water on his face a few times in a way that might control his raging thoughts and all it did was piss him off further. The water wasn't helping and neither was the icy chill of freezing cold liquid stinging his flushed cheeks.

Killua must think a lot of things about me. Just like those guys do every time I meet up with them for this.

Trash.

Junkie.

Addict.

Worthless.

Scum.

Shit-

God, damnit-

SMASH.

Even Gon wasn't so sure of himself when he heard a scream in his head and suddenly there was a jet of gushing water flying through the air, the broken remains of a porcelain sink crashing to pieces around his scuffed boots.

He blinked a few times to register the bruised, bloodied knuckles of his right hand and the fact that it was glowing with a furious golden color, his Nen sparking like a furious flame around it. And then he knew it was he who just destroyed the sink in one blind swing, shattering it into the remains that lay on the floor. It happened so fast all it took was one bat of the eyes to go from a completely normal scene; a boy's restroom unscathed and all clean – to totally destroyed and ransacked by a band of thieves, or in this case, a solo activist.

Gon sighed out the breath he didn't realize he had held back, slid his wounded fist into the pocket of his shorts, and dragged his boots across the tiled restroom and straight out the exit of the cozy cafe he was in. He didn't glance back, not even when there was a panicked shout of some other helpless male entering the bathroom to discover the disaster left behind. Gon told himself not to look for a reason, because to look back would to be regret what he did; and he didn't want to do that just yet.

There shouldn't be nothing to regret about doing this, should there?

Trudging heavy boots skidded across the pavement of the squished Masadora city streets. Gon picked a few times at the skin on his neck where insects crept and kept on walking in some random direction until he hit a more secluded area away from the hustle and bustle of people flooding through into the main section of town. He paused beside a giant display board; a map, and took a glance at the layout of the city.

It wasn't very complex. Mostly rows upon rows of buildings lined on every side; from department stores to information booths and most if not all the complexes sold or bartered Greed Island cards. There were very few places one could seek out non-carded items or items already transformed out of prior cards, so Gon couldn't afford to be picky when dealing with his needs.

That guy he sold the rings to was a lucky candidate and caught onto Gon's predicament at first glance – It secured him a drug dealer, per say, without having to seek one out.

Whoever took the rings was a Meth user himself; from the patches of crusty skin, the draped and tired eyes, the bald spots of tattered, stringy hair, and the ominous light of his reddened exposed arms. He looked as worse for wear as Gon did, but little did he honestly care, if it meant his needs would be sated.

Gon needed this; he reminded himself. I have to do this.

Fishing through the contents of his pocket, Gon heard a faint clink to confirm it was what he ordered and a small, relaxed smile flitted across his features. He visibly eased, the earlier tension in his posture finally going lax, and Gon let his eyes droop shut while he simply breathed the fresh air around him.

For a game, Greed Island certainly had a rich, lively atmosphere. For not being real, it certainly felt like it could be.

Better hurry before Bisky is done with her shopping. Gon glanced at the nearby public clock, notices its half-past 11 at night now, and guesses another twenty or so minutes until Biscuit is done with her usual rounds. She was a slow shopper; a matriculate shopper she insisted, but slow nonetheless. I won't have very long to finish and after that we'll be going back to the grove. I won't last that long without one.

Gon promised to himself to make it quick.

To make sure the coast was clear, Gon momentarily pushed his senses outward within the limited radius he was physically capable of. There wasn't a trace of Biscuit's soft, careful Nen aura anywhere nearby, nor her scent. There was nothing but waves of anxiety, of pent up frustration, of anger and depression; and Gon shut himself off from listening in on other people's problems. He had enough of his own, already.

It was easy to trace the pathways on the map and for Gon to find the best, most hidden spot in Masadora to do his business; slipping in a dark, sticky alleyway cut off from prying eyes and wandering glances. It was hidden in the back behind some far off abandoned building; Gon figured it had been a part of an in-game event at one point, and holed himself up in the one corner that wasn't littered in trash or in grime.

The alleyway was strangely reminiscent of the time he was trapped by Killua in one, after he had just managed to scavenge himself an armload of Meth after their fight and, of course, Killua was upset. Very upset.

He was still upset with him, Gon knew. Killua just refused to openly admit to it.

Gon scrunched down, all the way to his bottom, and sat facing the wall as he slid out the brown paper sack from his pocket. He dumped it on the ground, watching the long, pointed medicinal needles plop and clang against the unforgiving, rough cement. There was glass and trash everywhere, broken bottles and miscellaneous wrappers and Gon pushed aside everything to clear a space for himself. A few chunks of crystal fell out when he shook the bag a second time; large ones the size of his pinkie, alongside a few baggies loaded with pills, powders, and more.

Even in Gon's current predicament, he couldn't help but grin ear to ear although the notion felt foreign on his lips; painful and forced and not him.

It didn't matter. It'd all be okay soon.

"Needles.. needles." he muttered to himself, grabbing at the other fallen things and putting them back into the bag. He handled the crystals especially with care, pausing on the last one to examine it closer-up, get a good whiff and breathe in its odorless scent with a low, vibrato moan. Pure, untreated Crystal Meth; that was this beautiful stalagmite he held in his hand. He slid the last one away and pocketed it back in its proper place before he picked up the lone needle left behind.

The gray metal was long, thin, and slightly dirty with identifiable crusted matter. There was already a liquid inside, made prior as requested, and it was a thick, almost translucent white, and Gon turned it upside down a few times watching it move, but slowly. The liquid was thick, a paste-like quality, and Gon frowned at how viscous it seemed at first glance. Would it go in right? Would it inject properly without any strain? Gon knew it would hurt; had even been warned that it can hurt 'like a bitch' and that it was the hardest method for taking drugs.

But, it was also the best and fastest way to get that much needed rush, and Gon had been without for some time since Killua left. He needed something quick and it was exactly as he asked.

Gon just didn't expect it to be in such a form like this.

He set the needle back down, not jumping right into the idea of giving himself a shot of drugs until he thought about it more. It was tempting; oh so tempting, and Gon's hands shook at the idea of feeling that rush again, overpowering his veins and his body in its delectable warmth. But Gon wasn't confident in his ability to put a needle in his skin. He had no training; not like the nurses from the hospital when they gave him shots as a kid, or even Mito-san who could easily inject a needle in an emergency. She warned him never to play with things like those, for they were only to be used in a clean, well-facilitated hospital.

Needles weren't meant for the outside world otherwise.

"Oh, it'll be fine." One girl waved off the first time Gon ever saw someone take an injection of Meth in their arms. His eyes widened at all the abscessing sores there; the festered boils and the scabs of popped wounds where she had stabbed multiple times in her haste to find a vein. Her arm looked like a bad case of the chicken pox; only much more gross and sickening. Above all, frighteningly scary. "Once you learn where your veins are, it's sooooo easy. Just stick it right in and wham! Instant buzz."

"I don't know." Gon mumbled, sounding childish, but the blonde haired girl rolled her eyes and tousled her hair, the used needle waving in his face.

"Don't be such a baby, you big wimp. Try it."

She shoved the needle towards him and Gon instantly shook his head, backing away. "I think I'll stick with my smokes, thanks."

"Whatever. Coward." The needle clattered at his feet as she walked away and Gon stared at the fallen instrument for over an hour; locked in a trance, before he finally walked away.

He needed another smoke to clear his thoughts, now.

The second time he saw it occur, it had been completely accidental.

He was so lost in his candle-lit high; a pretty haired boy riding on his lap, blue eyes bright and brilliant and familiar – That Gon never saw when the needle touched the boy's arms or the loud howl of pleasure he heard when those viscous fluids pushed through so quick, that it overflowed and dripped onto Gon's abdomen. The liquid actually burned, feeling like a hot steel iron, and he flinched in his frantically paced thrusting to lean up and rub at the spot around his belly button. There was a red mark there and Gon's brow furrowed in confusion at how a bit of liquid from a mere needle actually burned him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, chancing a peek up at the boy on his lap – The one who still, in the far cries of his mind, looked a lot like Killua – who was biting his lip in ecstasy. But it wasn't from the fact he was being penetrated, it was from the drugs flowing freely through his veins, most likely consuming him in a wildfire of feelings that Gon kind of wished he could experience too. Smoking; from what he had been told,was nothing compared to injecting the drug.

You could never quite reach that high without it, at least.

Even if it always felt off when it wasn't the one person he imagined; sitting there and bouncing up and down, head thrown back in a fit of lust as they cried themselves ragged and desperate and needy. It'd still be better then this, fucking some total stranger to sate his inner thoughts, his warring emotions clinging to the afterimage of a best friend he so wantonly wanted to screw flat into the floorboards and ravage as a total mess.

Together. Yeah, he wanted to do it together.

But Gon's crush was quiet and subdued, thanks to the curtain of Meth overshadowing his heart, and Gon rarely noticed his picks in people he's romped with; that they always resembled a certain white-haired boy with big sapphires for eyes.

"Want some?" The boy on top of him picked up in speed and Gon's ears hurt with the loud thump of his body falling off and on him in repeat. He held out another needle towards him and Gon shook his head. "Hmph. Coward."

Gon shuddered at the comment but said nothing. This isn't what he needed right now. It was something else entirely yet it was nothing this boy could grant him. Their wet skin slapping made him cringe and Gon bit the inside of his mouth, arching back while trying to force the image of his best friend to be there, riding on top of him, moaning out his name as his seed spilled across his chest in thick ropes of white; a so much better white then the drugs that Gon choked down sometimes, thinking it made him happy.

It didn't.

But Meth made him think he was, anyway. And that was all Gon wanted;just never needed.

"What to do.. What do I do?" Gon rummaged through his pockets and the trembling in his hands made his movements uncoordinated and jerky. Slips of papers, wrappers, and a lighter fell out and Gon kept shuffling through, like there might be something he was missing, until his pocket was empty and he balled it into a fist there in the unfilled space. He frowned, glaring at the lighter and two good-sized rolls of smokes left behind, and snorted.

Just do it. Stop being a big baby.

"Coward."

Spinning images spiraled before his eyes, like colorful lights on a dance floor, and Gon swallowed on a thick ball of saliva in his throat. It tasted bad and he missed the better taste of pure white sweetness on his tongue. If he waited any longer, he swore he'd break.

But the needle to the side was staring at him, transfixed in its presence, and Gon shakily turned to reach for it instead, take it up and flip the needle so it pointed straight up. The tip glistened and he gulped, chancing another glance back at the smokes lying by his calf, calling, but its plea was drowned out in the stronger, more persistent cry of the needle instead.

Try me. Just once.

"Don't be a coward."

His arm moved forward and Gon flipped the needle back down, aiming it towards the space around the inside of his elbow joint. He had seen it many times before; the places where the nurses would push the sharp object in to draw blood, to give him a shot, inject him in so many places. But this was the most common spot he could remember and Gon blearily tried to remember much more then just the spot, only his mind was fading and all these whispers and voices were merging in on his thoughts.

Try me.

Use me. Abuse me.

Take it.

Do it. Coward.

Wimp. Baby. Do it. Take it.

Push it. You need it. You need this.

You can't live without it.

You can't live without me.

"Hey, Gon?" Killua said once, his back to Gon where they lay, spent from exhausting all their energy in another act of rough, uncontrolled sex. He was curled in on himself, Gon's arms loosely wrapped around his chest and waist while he sniffed at the back of his albino friend's neck. It smelled faintly of vanilla and chocolate. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Gon smirked, latching his lips onto the junction of Killua's shoulder and loving the shiver he received in response, the tiny gasp of irritation but adoration none the less.

"Is there something you can't live without?"

Taken aback by the blow to his personal life, Gon withdrew and cocked a brow even if he couldn't see Killua's face. All he saw was the sweaty, fluffed-up splay of silver hair in front of him, tickling at his nose. He gave off a low 'hmmmm' in thought then shrugged, nuzzling back into the hairline of his companion with a grin. "Not that I know of, why? Is there something Killua can't live without?"

"Yes." The answer came immediately and for some reason, Gon's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't sure if it was for a good or bad reason, however. "There's something I can't live without."

"What is it?"

Killua shook his head and Gon took it as confirmation that he wouldn't be finding out anytime soon, or at least now. He knew Killua well enough that he was too shy, embarrassed or otherwise, to admit to something so personal as that. So he shrugged it off, kissing at the crown of his hair with a small smile.

He was so lost in the moment, that Killua's last, whispered words which came next were barely registered in his head, but he still heard them; and Gon felt the return of his restless heart beat pound like a drum against his rib cage.

Painful and true.

"I.. I..'can't.. live without y.. you.. Gon."

"GON!"

Gon was snapped from his tiresome thoughts when he swung around, the shriek of his name smacking him straight across the face; in a metaphorical sense. Biscuit was standing there in the alleyway entrance, out of breath, eyes blown up like dinner plates, and a fear was there that Gon had never once witnessed in his Nen-teacher before. It scared him and with his senses on overdrive, he could feel the anxiety there; the frustration and anger and sadness – All of it.

All of people's problems; all of their problems, returning full force when he fought so hard to ignore them, shut them away and slam the door shut, lock and key.

The drug was supposed to get rid of the problems, so why was there suddenly much more?

He blinked once he turned to face her, still sitting, and she gasped out loud. Confused, he peeked left to right to see what she was gasping out over, when her finger pointed down towards him, but lower. Following the path of her finger, Gon saw that the needle was already in place, fluid wiped clean with its head firmly lodged in the skin there. A thin trail of white, clear gunk ran down, tracing the path of one of his veins that was dilated and pushing through the tanned flesh there, and Gon bit his lip as a tear slid down his cheek unnoticed.

"Gon!" Biscuit said again, edging closer, but he shook his head and looked up once more tears started to slide down his face. One right after the other.

"Bisky." Gon spoke up, a skip in his aching heart that wasn't there earlier. But it was slowly calming as the effects of the drug; of his returning highcame back and all he wanted to do was smile, lose himself in the bliss of his fucked up reality.

A reality, where he saw Killua smiling; because Gon was the one thing he couldn't live without.

And to replace it, the faceless grin of Meth was what Gon couldn't live without; and it devoured the image of his friend in one quick swoop. He kind of missed that image, really.

"Bisky, I think.." Words slurred as blackness kissed at the corners of his vision. Gon found himself floating. Fast. Into unconsciousness, and into the drug's clutches. He laughed.

"I think I have a problem."

When the black finally did take over, Gon never even felt the ground touch him when he fell.