Things to Know: AU, 8000+ words long
Nature vs. Nurture
Traits an individual inherits genetically vs. those which develop as a function of his/her environment.
I.
There's a ghost in Gon's tree. He's pale and quiet and must be light as a feather to perch on the thin upper branches, looking out into the distance with unfocused eyes. Sunlight bends around the immovable ghost in way that would be angelic if it wasn't blinding, but it turns eerie when Gon relocates, seeming to go through the ghost rather than bend around him, swallowing him whole.
A foreign feeling squirms in Gon's chest, fluttering sickeningly against his ribs. It's detached from the fear he'd already been feeling— Gon's always hated ghosts— and seems to come from somewhere deep inside himself. It makes his stomach nauseous.
Wind stirs the leaves and branches into an unsteady dance. The ghost shivers and becomes real right before Gon's eyes, but fear keeps squirming in his stomach. The height that used to never faze him is causing vertigo.
The not-ghost clears his throat, shifts his position clumsily to climb down, and too late Gon understands what's about to happen. It's not until after their eyes meet and the option is no longer available that Gon realizes he planned on running away before the other boy could see him.
"Hi."
"Hi."
The boy is as light as Gon expected. The branches dip the slightest bit as he steps on them, and the leaves ghost over his skin with barely a twitch as he carefully climbs down to the thicker branches. However his pace slower than the clouds drifting across the spring sky, and Gon wonders why he expected the boy to be quick and graceful in his journey down.
After an eternity, the other boy gingerly lowers himself onto the branch next to Gon and leans against the trunk for security, offering a wave in welcome. "I'm Killian."
"I'm Gon."
Killian raises an eyebrow. "'Gone'? Like G-o-n-e?"
"G-o-n. It's a nickname," Gon says. "I like it better than my name." His father has a nickname too—Gin, like the drink—but Aunt Mia always tries to use his real name since she doesn't like it. She's the only one that uses Gon's real name too.
"That's cool." Killian flattens himself against the trunk as another gust of wind makes the tree tremble and doesn't talk again until he's sure he's safe. "I always wanted a nickname. I mean sometimes my mom uses Kil, but…" He shrugs, shoves his hands deep in his pockets, his back hunching over as if he's embarrassed. "I don't know. I don't really like it," he says weakly, his voice fading with the wind.
Gon shifts, suddenly restless. He feels like he should be doing something, but he can't decide if he's forgotten to do something or just needs to be moving, climbing, running to get the feeling out of his system.
"Why are you up here?" Killian asks. "I thought all the kids were too scared to climb this tree?" Killian slowly crouches down to sit, fidgeting to get comfortable. Then he sighs and gets back up, dusting off his pants. "It was hard to get up here, but I stink at climbing trees and I made it."
He's not good at climbing trees? Gon frowns. But why frown? He just saw Killian's less than graceful descent, so why expect anything different?
"All the lower branches start are really high," Gon says, trying to ignore the wrong wrong wrong itching into his restlessness, "so it's kinda hard for the younger kids to get up here. Plus I fell out and broke my arm last year so—"
"What?!" Killian starts towards him, reaching for his arm. "Youmoron!"
Both boys recoil. The familiarity of the words takes Gon's breath away, and he has to choke down an involuntarily retort that doesn't even sound like him that tries to break free from his body, swallowing it down into his stomach with the other invading emotions.
Killian does a strange shuffle with his feet as he falters, unable to decide whether to return to the safety of the trunk or continue across the branch towards Gon, and Gon's not sure whether he wants him closer or not.
The sound of chimes abruptly shatters the strained atmosphere. Killian digs into his pocket and pulls out a cheap flip phone, a lightening charm swinging wildly as he flips it open. Gon can't hear what the other person says, but Killian frowns. "Right now?" he asks, the hint of a whine in his voice. "But—I know…okay…love you too. I'll be home soon."
"Are you going?" The honest disappointment that swiftly replaces his uneasiness surprises Gon, but the panic that accompanies it doesn't feel real. It's like he's experiencing half his emotions through a filter, and he doesn't like it.
Killian gestures down the tree. "I'm going to try," he says reluctantly, and Gon's positive Killian's reluctance is not for the same reason as his own disappointment, as much as he wishes it was.
"Here." Gon slips of his branch, nimbly landing on one a few feet down. It lurches underneath him, and the shot of adrenaline overshadows the panic, makes him feel more like himself. He looks up to a concerned (and slightly exasperated) Killian. "I know the quickest way down. Follow me."
After a long, drawn-out sigh Killian follows.
Killian has the same slow process for each branch. He'll place his foot on a branch ever so lightly as if the branch is an easily startled bird and gingerly try his weight. Then with care he'll put his full weight on it, careful to keep near the thickest area of branches he can find in case he falls. It would actually very entertaining to watch if the lingering sense of wrong wasn't lodged in the back of Gon's mind. Killian catches onto their path fast though. He easily picks out the most efficient way down even if it takes him awhile to follow through, and the sensation of wrong lessens.
Gon starts hanging from the branches upside-down as he watches the Killian's progress, loving the feeling of blood rushing to his head and looking out over the nearby houses. He waits until the other boy gets ahead of him and then takes the longer, more dangerous way down to keep from being bored, but it only works for so long.
"Hey," Gon says, "why haven't I seen you at school? Did you just move here?"
"Kinda. My mom's already moved, but I'm staying with some relatives until the school year's over." Killian takes a moment to steady himself and points down the road. "You know the old apartments? My house is near there."
Gon sits down to the branch above Killian and kicks his legs. The sunlight filtering through the leaves dances on his tanned skin. "I live near here too!" He waves his arm vaguely. "My bus drops me off up there, so I just come here after school."
"Everyday?"
"Yeah, usually."
"Cool."
Below them the branches start to grow thicker. Killian starts to move faster. Soon the ground is only a leap away, and Gon easily jumps out of the tree, landing with all the skill his sixth grade body possesses. He sits on the ground and watches as Killian climbs as low as he possibly can and sits on the branch, taking a minute to muster up some courage before sliding off towards the ground. He stumbles but manages to stay up right and offer Gon a smile.
Then the awkwardness is back. Around them children laugh about nothing, effortlessly spending time together as the two exchange quick bouts of eye contact waiting for one of them to make a move. It reminds Gon of two cats he saw fighting earlier, neither of them attacking but circling each other in a never ending display of caution. They didn't even fight in the end. They ran away.
"I'm going this way," Gon finally offers, pointing down the road. "Which way are you going?"
"Same way."
(The relief that follows wipes out everything from Gon's body. It leaves him reeling, latching onto Killian's sudden wide, uncharacteristic smile to prove it's not just him, he's not going crazy alone.)
The slight warmth the early April sun had allowed during the day is fading quickly. Killian is shortening his steps even as he complains about the cold, and it feels strange for Gon to fall into step right beside him, as if that space isn't his to occupy. It's more natural to walk in front of Killian, to walk backwards and trust his feet to lead him in the right direction, but that would be…rude? Wrong? He just knows he shouldn't be walking ahead of Killian, so he returns to walk next to him.
Killian doesn't say anything, but he doesn't entirely accept Gon beside him either. He moves a little bit ahead of Gon, enough that they can still maintain eye contact without him turning around, but it makes Gon nervous even if it's the most comfortable set-up they can find under the circumstances.
They talk. What else can they do? They need a way to keep from thinking too hard about the off-putting familiarity between them, or at least a way to actually earn the feelings.
Gon finds out that they're the same age, that Killian doesn't have any siblings, and that they'll be going to the same middle school in the fall for seventh grade. His favorite color is purple. His favorite animal is a squid, and his favorite food isn't chocolate.
"Chocolate's good too," Killian adds almost apologetically, then frowns. The unsure tone that leaks into his words barely registers with either boy. It's been dancing the air their whole walk home, twisting around half-remembered words and untrue facts that confuse them until neither boy can remember what's truth.
But underneath it all, Gon is relieved. He's floating on air tracing familiar patterns in this new person that makes him happier than he's been in awhile. Even if it doesn't quite fit right in his chest, it still feels like a missing piece is back, and too soon they come to a crossroads.
"Well," Killian says after a short pause. "I'm this way."
Gon gestures the opposite direction. "I'm over there."
…
"Later."
"Bye."
II.
Gon sees him again a week later at the town fair.
The park is packed, but the playground equipment is unusually crowded. This year there are more stalls than usual, and some brilliant person decided to place what has always been the most popular stall right on the edge of the playground. Normally it wouldn't be too much of a problem, except the owner of the stall has a bad habit of starting fights, which means many people are there strictly to watch the big yearly blowout.
It looks like a fight has already broken out when Gon wanders over. The slim woman in charge of the stall is wielding a long knife in her hand as she shouts obscenities at someone, trying to rip her arm out of the grip of her large partner while the crowd eggs them on. Killian is carefully waving his way through all the people, the stall's sushi precariously balanced on his plate as he makes a beeline towards the plastic tables. Miraculously he makes it without anything falling. Quiet as a mouse he sits on the edge of a table's bench as far away from the three rowdy brothers occupying the other side as he can manage and starts eating.
Gon walks over and plants himself on the other side.
"Hi, Killian."
"Hi, Gon"
And then Gon's mind goes blank. He fumbles for something to say while mentally kicking himself. It's odd, trying to make friends. Before Gon had just let it happen, but now that he's thinking about it he has no idea what to do. What did he do before?
(Why is he trying so hard for Killian? What is with the stupid feeling in his gut that makes him feel guilty and nervous and stubborn all at once?)
"Why are you wearing a hoodie?" Gon asks lamely.
"It's cold."
"It's just a little rainy."
"It's cold." Killian snuggles pointedly into his hoodie. He eyes Gon's green shorts, and his eyebrow lifts slightly at the abrasive choice of color. "Are you one of those people who walks around in winter with short sleeves and shorts?"
"I bet you wear sweaters in the summer."
"It can get cold in the summer. Besides, it's still spring. Everyone wears jackets." He chuckles almost nostalgically, the affection in his voice a reward Gon didn't know he wanted. "You're the strange one."
Killian's eyes widen in shock. The tips of his ears tint red, and he looks away from Gon in an action so familiar the wave of nostalgia that hits Gon would have knocked him off his feet had he been standing. His fingers twitch to reach out to Killian, and all the topics that leap to mind feel detached from his body, like a dream he had a days ago suddenly remembered.
Killian finishes his food quickly and dumps his plate in the nearest trashcan. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and hunches over against the cold.
"I have to find my mom," Killian says. "What about you?"
"I need to be home by ten." Everyone in town will make sure of it too. It's one of the perils of being Gin's kid and Mia's nephew. "I'll walk with you."
"I'm supposed to meet her by…" Killian frowns and fishes his phone out, the lightening charm from before glinting faintly in the light. "The fountain."
"I know a shortcut." Gon takes the lead through the crowd. He looks back occasionally to make sure he's still there and even lets his arm hang back slightly to be grabbed, but Killian's eyes remain fixed passed him the whole time, searching for the path. Gon doesn't drop his arm the whole way. Killian doesn't accept the invitation.
Eventually they break out of the general hubbub, traveling down one of the bike paths. The path is a little too narrow for them to walk side by side without both their shoes becoming a muddy mess, so Killian moves in front.
"When are you done with school?"
"Last week of June." Killian glances back. "You?
"I have week more than you." Gon sighs. He doesn't hate school, but he'd much rather be outside. With the end of the year coming up all his teachers are either more lethargic than the students or making them study twice as hard.
"I'm moving here during that week." Killian shrugs and grins openly, but there's a contained nature to his grin, something cautious and guarded in the way it doesn't completely unfold on his face. "We can probably start hanging out at the park?"
"Yeah." Gon smiles back anyway, unaware of how strange they look with only one honest smile and one hesitating grin between the two of them.
"Hey, have you seen Lightening Bandit?"
"What's that?"
Killian laughs and relaxes. "It's a movie. I'll show you this summer. It's about these kids…"
Faceless voices drift around them, echoing through the trees. Gon moves closer to Killian's back as their conversation drifts to movies from games to the things they're going to do during summer to trips planned for the summer. Killian's going on vacation. Gon's going to go to a relative's house with Aunt Mia. They decide they're going to watch Dino Hunter together on Saturday mornings and go see that new, cool-looking movie coming out in July by themselves. They're going to be in seventh grade, which is practically grown-up. Everything's seems possible in the quiet, unending world surrounding them.
The voices grow louder. The fountain comes into sight. Gon tries not to noticeably slow his pace.
"There she is." Gon can't tell who Killian is pointing to. "Thanks, Gon. Later!"
"Bye," Gon says, but Killian's already running off, swallowed by the crowd. He waits a few minutes at the end of the bike path before turning around and heading back the way he came.
III.
It's hard being friends at first. Neither of them ever on the same page. The balance they keep trying to strike is constantly shaken. Either Gon is expecting too much or Killian is too shielded and most people would have stopped trying, but for better or worse the two gravitate towards each other.
After awhile they realize they like clashing, need their jagged edges catching against each other, and once they stop trying to fit so cleanly together it all clicks into place.
The park naturally becomes Gon and Killian's spot as time passes. It's location half way between their houses is ideal during the summer, and since the bus always lets them out at the crossroads it's so easy to simply run down the street, throw their book bags on the bench, and launch into whatever game (or homework) awaits them that day. Killian gets better at climbing trees, and Gon gets better at ignoring the odd feelings from before. It's so easy for uneasy feelings to become masked by their laughter. They become pros at pretending even if the guilt and nerves and fear never completely leave Gon's system.
New kids start to appear when they reach high school, local middle and elementary kids exercising their freedom. Familiar faces disappear, or at least they disappear during the time Gon and Killian are there, but it doesn't impact them much. Most of their other friends they see at school anyway.
They don't hang out outside of the park until freshman year. Gon can't really pinpoint a reason why (maybe because neither were ever really ready to move off neutral ground) but the facts are facts. Their first sleepover is slated for the week before school ends at Gon's house.
The sun is setting when Killian arrives, and the boys immediately run to their tent in the backyard. They throw all the blankets and pillows they can find inside until it's fit to burst then add in a few more for a good measure before diving in themselves.
Childish glee they swear they're too old for takes them over immediately as the illusion of independence hits them. They watch R-rated movies on Killian's portable DVD player. They devourer all the snacks they brought in hours, including a whole dozen donuts. Eventually they start to laugh at the drop of a hat over the stupidest things, spending a solid hour giggling at dumb jokes and stories, rolling in their blankets until they're tangled and laughing even more. They play card games until neither can tell six from nine and climb into their respective corners of the tent, draping the largest blanket over both of them.
They sigh deeply and close their eyes, content and ready to sleep.
Of course Gon's wide awake not even a moment later. He rolls over to face the side of the tent, but the cold is starting to work its way in. Already the sides are chilled to the touch. He turns back over to stare at the side of Killian's head.
"A nice junior walked me home today," Killian says suddenly, turning to face his friend. His eyes are at half-mast. "He recognized me and thought I was lost."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know." Killian looks away as he recalls the student. Admiration colors his checks. A small smile curves his lips. "He has gold hair, and his eyes are kinda red? I mean they're brown, but this off-colored brown that looks red. And his smile is—" Killian stops himself. "…kinda nice."
Gon really tries not to let his grin show, but he can't help it as he teases, "So you like him?"
"Wha—?! I…no!" Killian's becomes a mess of red as he stutters over cheap explanations that make Gon's chest tighten. He loves to see Killian embarrassed, and it's always so hard to do.
No, it's just difficult compared to what he remembers, when it seemed like all Gon had to do was step a little too close or be a little too blunt to watch his face light up like the sun, burning its way across his face…but not his face. It was older and sharper and his hair was white but he wasn't that old—
Killian finally trails off. His blush dies down. He turns away from Gon, and Gon turns to look at the tent's ceiling. Before he could make out the green color easily thanks to the light from the house, but Aunt Mia must have gone to bed. Now he has to strain his eyes to see anything in the darkness, and doing so makes his eyes hurt. He closes them for just a second, then a minute, then…he's drifting, still awake but almost drunk on his exhaustion.
"What do you know about girls?"
"Nothing." Gon laughs, mind fogged over. "Mia had a few friends who tried to give me advice, but after they left she told me to forget everything they said." He turns over on his stomach and rests his head sideways on his crossed arms to look at Killua, eyes drooping. "I'm not really interested. Not enough to do anything about it anyway."
"Hm."
Killian sighs. He still hasn't looked at Gon. Gon senses something else there, but he can't focus enough to pinpoint it. He opens his mouth to respond, but what if it makes Killian angry? What if he leaves?
The detached sense of fear suddenly becomes all too real. He's too tired to fight it, and from the depth of his being a bad feeling wells in Gon's chest. It might make Killian angry to ask, but it is better than ignoring the problem? But he doesn't want him to leave and the bad feeling won't fade and you can't let him sit on it remember what happened before
"Do you believe in fate?"
Gon blinks. "What?"
"Fate. Like things are meant to happen and we can't change it?" Killua rolls over to stare at Gon. The big blanket bunches under him, robbing Gon of the little bit he had, but he's too tired to do much, the stolen warmth not enough to cause discomfort. "I saw this thing on this TV show where the heroes were time traveling and kept running into the same situation, and it said history repeats itself was because fate never changes. Do you think that happens to everyone? To us?"
Killua doesn't look comforted by the idea. He seems to shrink into the blankets as he talks, his voice becoming quieter until he's whispering, as though guarding a precious secret.
"I don't know," Gon says.
"I don't like it," Killua says. "I mean I don't want to be stuck doing the same things forever. What if I was born here and never left? And I have to do it again? I want to…do something, you know?"
Gon shrugs, looks away from Killua. "Not really." An ugly hollow feeling flares to life in his stomach. It's taken up residence ever since teachers started talking about high school and college and honors classes because Gon feels like he should be doing something, but he doesn't know what.
"I want to travel I think." Killua admits. "I don't know what job I'd do, but seeing the world sounds fun. Maybe you could come for awhile?"
Gon notices when he looks at his smiling friend he can't tell the difference between white and blond hair in the dark, and he thinks, as they drift off into their respective dreams without Gon ever answering, that he rather likes fate. He wouldn't have to worry so much about things changing if he knew how'd they change.
IV
Gon starts to remember—really remember at sixteen. It's different from the vague feelings from before; it takes on the form of dreams and pollutes his life from the inside out because it's not everything. There is no context to the things he sees and the feelings he feels, and he wakes in a perpetual state of confusion that carries into the day and into his life.
He somehow manages to make it through the years with his grades intact (Killian helps him with math. It's never been Mia's strong suit) even if his social life reduces down to five people. One says Gon should go see a doctor, thick eyebrows folded in worry. Lily used to whisper to him about the occult and reincarnation, but now she falls silent, doing her best to keep the mood light with jokes. Pearl doesn't say anything. She never does, but her face always takes on a supportive expression that makes Gon feel less alone. He wonders if she feels the same guilt he does, if there's a reason she's always rubbing her forearms with a slightly alarmed expression, but she graduates before he can ever get the nerve to ask.
When it comes to Killian…they talk. Gon tells him stuff. Killian responds. Gon hides things. Killian doesn't notice (doesn't remember). They treat it like an on-going story and pretend it doesn't exist, just like they've always done. They are Gon and Killian, not…whoever those other people are, and Gon resolves to fight tooth and nail to keep it so.
V
"My dad's coming home." Gon says it casually, the warmth of July making his words lazy. He hangs off the money bars, loving the way the warm metal of feels on the backs of his legs, and beams slowly at his best friend. "Wanna meet him?"
Killian sits up from his stretched out position on the nearby bench, frowning. "Your dad?" he asks. "I thought—"
He doesn't finish the sentence, but it doesn't matter. Gon can fill in the blanks himself.
Gon shrugs, looks away to avoid adding any more fuel to the fire. "He works out of town to support us, but I can see why you'd think that. It's been years and you still haven't met him. Plus the—kid in my story's dad is gone. Maybe you remembered me telling you about that? Plus he's still infamous around town, what with his old reputation, so I mean…"
"Yeah, maybe."
"I mean I barely talk about him, so it makes sense."
Killian clears his throat. "When's he coming?"
Gon flips off the monkey bars, regaining some of his good mood when he sticks the landing. "Next Thursday."
As he looks at his friend, he's reminded what a bad liar he is. Does he really think Gon won't notice the displeasure in his slight frown, or the way he hunches over defensively? It's not like Gon won't understand.
" …He's staying for a few days, though, so just come before Monday."
"Okay." Killian's frown smoothes out. Gon doesn't comment. His eyes drift to the tree above them, the big one they met in. It's the only one Killian can get to the top faster than Gon, but they haven't climbed it in awhile.
(He's hanging out with Lily again, huh?)
Gon likes Lily. She's pretty and cheerful and can make Killua talk and smile so easy. It seems like forever since Gon could do that, and Killian is always so uncomfortable when he declines to hang out with Gon to see her, but it's okay. They're friends too.
(But I am jealous. It's like I'm number two—)
"Gon?" The hesitation in his voice is different from usual. It's tinted with embarrassment, a red dust already settling on Killua's checks. "Do you…" Killian takes a claming breath, shots an annoyed look to the side as he struggles for words. "Isn't it strange to you? That you're inviting me to meet your dad?" Before Gon can even take in a breath to respond, Killian holds up his hand for silence. He's looking at tree, and his next words almost seem to be directed at it rather than Gon. "I mean you never introduce anyone to him and it sounds…you know…" A sigh. A groan of impatience. "It's weird, isn't it?"
"Weird?"
"Yeah! Weird!" Killian's eyes snap to him, the familiar expression that tells Gon he's being particularly dense amped up to the nth degree. "We act like a couple, Gon! People think we're going out!"
The explosive voice sends Gon reeling for cover, shrinking away from Killian with raised hands in surrender.
" So?"
"So?!"
"Aren't you gay?"
"Yeah, but are you okay with people thinking that?"
("I like you.") "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because…"
"Are you okay with it?"
"…"
Impulse rushes up on Gon fast. It mashes with the guilt in his gut, overtakes him in a confusing mess of conflicting emotions and feelings that don't even feel entirely like his, like wearing clothes a size too big, and he forces his way through the mess to find his feelings, not the other Gon's.
"Would you hate to date me that much?" he says, latching onto the one emotion he knows is his in the raging storm that has become his mind.
"I…no."
"Okay," Gon says.
It's fitting that their first kiss is in that old park, and with the sun shining down and senior year coming and the constant guilty feelings drowned out for once. Gon feels like there's no way anything could go wrong.
Gon pulls back, and Killian has that blush on his face Gon loves so much, except instead of butterflies tickling in his stomach like he expected, familiarity hits him. No… nostalgia? It feels like he's seen this sight a thousand times already, had it ingrained in some part of him for all his life, and he feels robbed.
Gon is seventeen and kissed his best friend, and as he looks at his smile, for the first time in his life he doesn't like the idea of fate. What's the point of life if fate is going to take all novelty out of existing?
(Who is he if he's the same as someone else?)
VI
Life happens gradually, but it all feels instantaneous to Gon. Time passes while the memories pile in his head, but it seems as if one day Gon suddenly wakes up and has two separate lives to live. Time passes while he goes to school, but it seems as if he suddenly wakes up and goes to college one day. Time passes while he grows up, but it seems as if he becomes an adult over night.
Whether this is an effect of his new memories throwing off his perception of time or his own inattentiveness he isn't sure. Somehow it's worse not knowing who's to blame.
Killian happens in the same way, but Gon thinks he planned it that way. He takes the moments for himself, moves in slowly and waits for awareness it hit Gon like a pillow to the face.
One day Gon notices his green toothbrush has a purple companion. Another day he pulls on a shirt a little too big that smells of his friend. Then he can't tell their shirts apart. Cinnamon Pop-Tarts appear in the cabinet next to his beagles. He grabs the wrong books on his way to class. His alarm becomes Killian's noisy groans as he shuffles half-dead out of bed in the morning, forgetting about Gon in his pre-coffee haze.
Gon collects these moments like gold and hoards them in his heart enviously, guarding them ruthlessly from the other memories that bounce around in his head. The other Gon has already stolen so many things, and he's unwilling to surrender anything Killian offers to him and him alone.
VII
It's three in the morning when Gon wakes up. Just like the last few months it's with laughter still echoing in his ears and his skin warm with sun. A lingering sense of happiness reaches all the way down to his toes. There's a smile on his lips, and the name Kite comes out in a whisper, slipping over from his memories into reality for the one moment in time Gon is still the other Gon. He allows the intrusion with little annoyance, almost like payment for the good mood that will follow him throughout the day, but the discomfort he feels at being overtaken has only intensified with time.
Gon avoids moving too much to keep from waking up entirely, liking to drift between light sleep and barely-there awareness before he has to get up for the day. He does allow himself to shift closer to Killian and play with the edges of his messy hair, the hard line of Killian's body pressed against him. They've never fit together like a puzzle, but Gon loves that it's easy to tell where he begins and Killian ends. It's not always so easy to draw boundaries in his own mind.
Lately it seems like the line separating him and Killian is harder to find. It shouldn't worry Gon, but it does. He can't figure out if it's him, if he's changing, simply losing the will to differentiate between the two. Regressing back. Sometimes he does something, and all he can see is the other Gon or he sees Killua in Killian and it all makes him so sick because then who is he
Killian's eyes flutter open.
"Sorry," Gon whispers. He doesn't stop playing with his boyfriend's hair. "Did I wake you?"
A deep sigh. "No." Killian lightly drapes his arm across Gon's side and snuggles into the warm cocoon they're slowly making. "So was it a good dream again?"
"Yeah. I think he might find his dad soon."
"Mm." Killian looks like he wants to say something, but he remains silent. Gon doesn't press. Killian has always spoken to him if he had a problem and wasn't one to hold back. If it's important, he'll tell him, right? He always has before.
Killian moves in closer. Gon frowns at how well they fit together.
VIII
Days pass.
They live. Killian lives more. He studies and plans to go away, and Gon still doesn't know how to satisfy the gaping hole in his gut that still needs to be filled. He starts to suspect whatever it is he's looking for doesn't exist anymore, if it ever did in the first place, but Killian…he's so sure for himself. He forges ahead and leaves Gon trailing behind.
Fear becomes constant in Gon. As the end of college approaches everyone starts to disappear to better things. He frantically tries to grab onto them, but they leave. They all leave, and Killian is retreating further away day by day.
The other Gon is in a bad place I will save him and it leaks over into the daytime, stains it black he is a killer no I wasn't I was young that wasn't even me but it's not like Gon can change how the other him felt or shake off what happened.
He couldn't hold onto Killua or Kite or anyone, but he manages to hold onto Killian
until he can't anymore because suddenly in late August Killian "can't take it anymore, Gon!" and his stuff is gone and Gon doesn't know he did wrong this time. His purple toothbrush, his pillow, his clothes, his pictures, his cell phone, his movies, his warmth, his company, his laugh it's all Gon's fault again and everything is so dark
IX
Who am I?
X
Gon takes a deep breath and slides on his shoes. The open window lets a blast of cold air into his apartment, but the room is already too chilled for it to really add anything. He moves over to the window slowly and shuts it, the frost on the glass nearly blocking out the sky completely.
The sheer emptiness of the room steals Gon's breath. Most of the furniture is still in its place, but the room itself has been robbed of any signs of life in preparation for its next inhabitants. The movies he always stacked in the corner are gone. There aren't even dust outlines from where he kept the few pictures he owns on the table. All signs of him are gone, and it's intimidating to be erased so fully.
Gon sighs.
At twenty-two he remembered everything. It took another lifetime to be able to stomach all the guilt, but he's made as much peace with his past life as possible. At twenty-four he can move on now like everyone else did. Or how they tried anyway, until he dragged them back down with him, chained them to him in his stubbornness. One final act of selfishness from the Hunter.
He doesn't know why everyone else forgot and moved on. Maybe they wanted to. Maybe the other Gon was so stubborn he literally managed to cheat the system. All he knows is he would never do this so someone. It's scary being alone, but it's scarier not knowing who you are.
He is Gon, and it took time for him to be able to say that with not a trace of doubt in his body. It took time for him to be able to pin down what feelings were his, to be able to reach passed the overbearing emotions of the other him and find him. Now he recalls every shaky, unsure minute with perfect clarity while the other Gon's memories become muddled. Now he finally he feels like himself.
Gon leaves the apartment. He climbs in his car and simply drives away, no ceremony or grand farewell to be found. It'll be a short trip to his aunt's house.
Killian's old house taunts him from the corner of his eye as he drives passed. It's been painted over by a new family, and the bright color clashes harshly with the familiar image in his mind. He hasn't talked to his ex in awhile, not since…
It was inevitable. He knows that now. Gon remembered, and it chocked them because Killua wouldn't remember or Killian couldn't remember or both or neither. It became awkward to dance around the phantom of Killua and the mistakes of the past, but maybe the worst part was trying to fix what went wrong last time. Gon spent all that time trying to communicate and to not take advantage of him, but Gon couldn't fight against who he was at his core anymore than Killian could be completely free of Killua. Gon is a selfish person. Killian has always been selfless. All it did was create new problems that they didn't see until they were already hurting each other again, splintering apart, but at least this time Killian was different enough to look out for himself.
It's always so easy to see the cracks in hindsight. Sometimes he wants to laugh. It was the same stupid thing keeping them at arm's length. The past. His mistakes. No wonder Killian didn't want to remember. All it does is cause problems in the end.
He wonders if he can really call fate cruel when he did this to them in the first place.
Gon arrives at his childhood home and takes a moment to gather himself. It's never good to think about the past. He focuses on the present. Tonight he'll nice meal, then a few days' rest before his long drive. He's got a job lined up far away.
Life goes on.
xxx
They find each other again.
Both of them recoil in surprise, double-checking to make sure their eyes aren't playing tricks, but unlike in their other life they weren't children when they parted. Outwardly they haven't changed much. They're unmistakable.
There's only one bench not piled in snow, and Gon is occupying it. The children they brought play on the old juggle gym, their laughter echoing, blissfully unaware of the strained atmosphere around the adults. After several minutes of them sneaking glances out of the corners of their eyes, Killian walks towards him.
"I can't believe you're wearing green shorts at thirty-three."
Gon shrugs, watches Leo's kid, Pario, skillfully weave through equipment with his new friend right behind. "They're comfortable."
"It's autumn."
"I'm not cold."
Killian pointedly snuggles into his jacket. "It's freezing."
"You're always cold."
"Not always!"
"It could be seventy and you'll have a sweatshirt on."
"It'll be in the negatives and you'll have those green shorts." Killua rolls his eyes. "I bet it's the only pair of pants you own."
"I have better things to do than go shopping."
"I know." Killian used to drag him out to get clothes that didn't have holes in them. Gon tends to forget unless someone's there to remind him, and he's never cared for clothes like Killian. "I heard you helping that new doctor in town."
Gon chuckles. "He's an old friend." He gestures to the children. "I'm basically a glorified babysitter right now."
Killian laughs. "Me too. I'm watching Lily's kid while she gets some work done." He sighs and relaxes back into the cold metal bench, blowing a stream of air from his mouth. It curls white above them, quickly disappearing. "It's always boring between jobs."
"Mm-hmm."
"…I heard you quit."
Gon shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. "What's with the tone? I change jobs all the time."
"Why? It is because of…" Gon looks straight ahead as Killian side eyes him, "your memories?"
"No." Gon tries not to feel annoyed, but it's hard. He's not young anymore. He's not stupid enough to get caught up in the past at this point in his life. He's only himself now, and nothing else.
Gon's eyes drift to a tree stump that sits oddly detached from the other trees. It's splintered at the edges, ugly shards failing to warn away only the stupidest kids from climbing on it, and the striped bark on the side looks like a war wound. It had been the only tree Killian could get to the top faster than Gon, slipping through the branches like water with his lanky frame where Gon got stuck.
"Did we meet again back then?" Killian asks.
For one fantastic moment Gon considers lying to him. "…Yeah, they did."
"'They?'"
Gon can't help his laughter. Killian gives him a dirty look, but he can't help it. Here he thought he was the only one haunted. It's reassuring not to be alone. "You're not the same as Killua, you know?"
"No, I don't!" Killian hunches over in his jacket after his out burst and doesn't look at Gon. "How am I supposed to know when I never met the guy! You never—I…"
Killian won't look at Gon, just like those years ago when they argued. It actually makes Gon feel better to see something so unmistakably Killian in the stubborn set of the jaw, the defensiveness in his shoulders as if his feelings are something that need protecting. In the months before the breakup he had fallen silent. They had stopped arguing, stopped really talking, and Gon had been too hesitant to do anything. Just like the other Gon he had left it up to Killua to maintain their relationship, and just like back then it had broken them apart. Gon tried to prevent the same fate but had caused it himself.
He won't make the same mistake.
"I didn't know him either." Gon turns his body towards Killian. He crosses his legs to sit like a child, and offers a careful grin. "The other Gon did, but I didn't." He takes a deep breath, and then he talks openly to Killian like he hasn't for years. "…I used to feel robbed, actually. Because you'd do something amazing, but it would remind me of Killua, and it wasn't fair that he was so similar to you and we had to miss out because of it. Believe me, I never looked at you and wanted to see Killua. I never wanted to be the other Gon."
Gon looks away to the children. They're on the swings now, pumping their legs fiercely in an effort to swing completely over the top bar, uncaring of the dangerous jerks the swing gives on its way back down. "I'm not exactly like the other Gon, and you definitely aren't just like Killua. I mean when's the last time you killed a man? Or ate sugar? He never would have even talked like this. The other Gon…Does he really sound a lot like me? Would I do all the things he did? "
"Some things," Killian mutters, "just like me and Killua."
"That can't be helped," Gon says carefully. "Of course we'll have some things in common. Ever since I was little I felt the other me's guilt and his shame. I had to learn to separate myself from that, but I was never the same person. It's impossible to be the same. You've never been anyone except Killian, and I've never been anyone but me, even if I got a little lost along the way."
Killian shrugs, but he doesn't look convinced.
Gon makes sure Killian is meeting his eyes and says with absolute certainly, "It never mattered if it was fate or Gon trying to cling onto the people who left him. It doesn't matter that Killua moved on and Gon stayed. The other Gon loved Killua, and I loved you."
Killian must find relief in there somewhere because he sags over, all the fight going out of him, and something akin to relief is on his face. "Okay," he says, and Gon is happy he can finally be the one to put a grin on his face.
"Kil~! Kil! Look!" The child Killian brought with him dashes over, Pario right on her heels. Gon blinks in surprise. She's the spitting image of her mother, long dark hair and all, except her eyes are a brown so dark it's almost black.
"What is it, Na?"
The girl proudly holds up her prize. At first the men think it's simply a white stone, overenthusiastic praise and admiration absentmindedly spilling from their lips, but then they notice the black hole in the little girl's smile
"Natalie!" Killua shots to his feet and gathers the little girl in his arms, lightly but firmly holding her mouth open and trying to get a good look. "What happened?! Are you okay?!"
Na pokes at it with her tongue. "Aye!"
"What happened?" Gon gives Pairo a stern look to hide his amusement. Killian looks ready to have a heart attack, but Na is completely oblivious, chattering on about how she can't wait to show mom and how the tooth fairy to make her rich.
"She fell and hit the swings," Pairo says seriously, imitating Leo's doctor voice with a scary amount of skill. "There wasn't a lot of blood, but I think Daddy should look at her."
"I want to meet Pario's dad!" Na yells. "Can we? Please~?"
Gon can't hold back his laughter as the little girl winds Killian around her finger with nothing but her puppy-dog eyes. He can see his heart melting as he lets the girl down, but he shakes his head. "We'll see, okay?" he says as they start down the familiar path. "We might just go home to Mom, okay?"
Killian takes out his phone and starts texting Lily. The kids chatter about something or other and try to explain it to Gon, but he's lost in no time flat, too old to understand their younger world. He looks at the houses instead, trying to see where they've changed over the years and noticing with some surprise how different they look now.
Killian stops texting, but he doesn't share Lily's answer. "How did it go when…they met again?" he asks instead, looking up at the gray winter sky.
"I don't know. I don't remember nearly as much anymore."
"Were they happy?"
"I don't know."
They come to the crossroads. Pario starts down the road to Leo's clinic, Gon following behind while Na stands by Killian, waiting for his verdict.
"I'm going this way," Gon says without looking back. "You?
Killian throws a fleeting glance behind him, considering. In only a few short strides he catches up to Gon, and side by side they walk down the road into the pure white scenery of winter.
Thanks for all the favorites and follows! Here's hoping the next chapter won't take as long as this one.