#guh I'm worried they feel super ooc but I don't know I feel like they'd have this conversation at some point

[xyliane]

half the world away by aurora! "My body feels young but my mind is very old/So what do you say?/You can't give me the dreams that are mine anyway/You're half the world away" annnnnnnd gon :') (congrats on the following my dude!!! >:O)

aaa thanks buddy! I don’t know what it was but this was frustrating as hell to write. I think I have five versions of what this might’ve been, and it’s an unedited disaster. which is the opposite of fun, because I love this cover. but now it’s done! I hope you like it. gen, gon and killua and not a whole conversation but maybe it’s a start, post-election arc. 800 words. I’m using manga ages so gon’s only been back on whale island for a bit (maybe a few months). 

—

“You can’t use nen anymore?”

Gon frowns, unsure of how to respond, and dangles his feet in the air and his head off the roof of Aunt Mito’s house instead. It’s a nice day, rare in the middle of winter, where the rains have stopped and the power is stable long enough to get everything charged and the internet working at home. Aunt Mito wants him to finish with the laundry, but it’s too nice to worry about that, with the smell of sun seeping into his skin and the sounds of life echoing out of the forest. It would be nicer if Killua were here, maybe.

There are so many maybes on Whale Island. Maybe he was too focused to notice them, before. Maybe he’s fourteen and fourteen year olds are supposed to be full of maybes. Maybe he’s changed.

Half the world away, Killua sighs. “We don’t have to talk about this,” he says. The words are careful, tip-toeing around a roof made of paper, like he’s worried this will break the weak barrier they’ve put up against everything that happened.  

Gon shakes his head, wriggling his toes in the warm breeze. “No, Killua! It’s important, and I couldn’t tell you before. I want to tell you.”

“If you say so.”

“I do! Although I guess there’s not much to tell.”

A breath of a laugh echoes through the phone. He doesn’t sound convinced at all, but in a tone that Gon knows means he wants to be convinced. It would be easier to tell if they could talk face to face, but it’s Killua. Gon knows him by sound, by smell, just as well by sight.

“I can feel energy, from the forest and the trees and Aunt Mito and Kon. But it’s more like before I learned about nen, although maybe it’s a little different. I’m not sure.” He looks at his toes splayed out against the blue sky. No aura, no once-familiar ripples of power, just…brown skin and freckles. It’s just him, on his own.

He expects Killua to ask how, or why, or even when, all questions he’s prepared for but doesn’t want to face right now. Killua’s always interested in the details of things, to plan for contingencies based on previous data and his own intuition. It’s fascinating to watch, and Gon can’t help but admire how good Killua is at that. But none of the questions come, not even a sound.

“Killua?”

“Do you want it back?”

The question is so unexpected Gon nearly drops his phone off the roof. His heels thunk against the roof, shingles spitting up splinters against his skin. But Gon barely registers it. “Do I want…?”

“Your nen. I can ask… Maybe Nanika can help?”

Gon sits upright, shaking his head fiercely. “No! No, Killua, don’t ask her.”

“Why not?” 

The question is sharp, almost harsh. How can Gon explain that it feels like it’s his fault? That he has to fix it himself? That he doesn’t mind not having it, most of the time? That he’s not ready yet? “Don’t. Please, Killua.”

The silence he gets back weighs about a thousand kilos on the phone, heavy enough to break. Maybe Gon should have done as Killua said, waited to talk about this until they meet each other again, or until they’re ready. But ready is too uncertain, with too many things unsaid to make it understandable. Maybe Gon will never be ready, will never be like he had worked so hard to become.

Maybe that will be okay. He just has to find out what he wants.

“And if you don’t get it back?” Killua finally asks, voice quiet and small in a way Killua never is. “What do you want to do then?”

“I’ll figure out something. I know I want to travel with you again.”

“Idiot. What if I don’t want to travel with you, Alluka’s a way better travel partner. She doesn’t leave her dirty socks on my face.”

Gon smiles. “Because I miss you, and you miss me.”

“Idiot,” Killua says again, although now his voice twinges and pops, like he has to force the word out through the blush on his face Gon knows is there even if he can’t see it. It would be easier to see the words Killua doesn’t say if they were together. But it would be easier to do a lot of things. And Gon wants to do this alone, if only for a little while.

There’s a soft rustle, maybe fabric or a blanket. How late is it wherever Killua is? He can’t say what adventures he’s having now, to keep his sisters safe, but Gon can imagine. It’s probably in the middle of the night. Gon should maybe feel a little bad about keeping him up late.

He doesn’t. Killua doesn’t, when he calls instead, so why would it be a bad thing?

“Are you really sure, Gon?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Then when you catch up, you’d better be ready. I won’t go easy on you even if you don’t have nen.” And it’s when, not if, and Gon feels his heart pound in his chest, knowing Killua believes in him. Somehow, it makes all of the maybes feel less important. 

“You can try!” Gon says, and Killua laughs.