This Won't End Well

8: How To Get Patched Up

Gon and Killua trudged up the stairs of their apartment complex. They didn't speak. Only heavy footsteps and labored breathing could be heard in the hallway. Killua was preoccupied carrying six or seven heavy boxes of things that he had ordered online. Gon was struggling himself, carrying nearly fifteen bags of groceries.

When they finally reached Killua's apartment, Killua set down his boxes with a loud thud that echoed through the hallway. He jammed his key in the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. He moved aside to let Gon walk in first.

"Just set the groceries on the counter," Killua said, going to pick up his boxes. Gon gave a strained hum in response, walking into the kitchen and setting them down with a relieved sigh. As soon as he let go of all the bags, Gon laid on the cold floor, panting for air.

Killua walked into the living room, setting the boxes down, and then walked over to Gon. He stood over him, looking at him with a cocked head and raised eyebrows. "Hanging in there?" He asked.

"Hardly," Gon said, melting into the coldness of the ground. Carrying fifteen bags of groceries up five flights of stairs did not work out well for him.

"You're fine," Killua said through a smirk, stepping over Gon to get to the groceries. "Get up and help me put this shit away."

Gon let out a loud groan, moving to his feet and helping Killua unpack the many bags. "How's your nose?" Gon asked, putting away the cold items in the fridge.

Killua shrugged. "Never been better," He quipped, turning to look at Gon for a split second with a sarcastic smile. "How's your fist?"

"I won't lie to you; it hurts," Gon admitted with a pitiful laugh at the end. Killua walked over to Gon, making him turn around. He took Gon's right hand in his and grazed over his knuckles with his other hand. Gon winced slightly at the touch.

"Sorry," Killua mumbled, continuing to cradle and examine Gon's hand. His knuckles were red and somewhat raw, already turning purple. One of his knuckles was bleeding, and the skin was cracking. They stood there for a few seconds longer, Killua looking over Gon's hand and Gon looking at Killua. Without a word, Killua let Gon's hand drop and walked away to continue organizing his groceries.

"Could've been a lot worse," Killua said, putting away food in the cabinets. "Where'd you learn to throw a punch like that? You almost knocked the bastard out."

Gon turned his attention back to his job of filling the fridge with food and drinks. "Kurapika, actually," Gon replied in a quiet tone.

"Oh, so he's a violent trainwreck? He sounds fun," Killua mused. Gon let out a small laugh.

"You have no idea. In middle and high school, he made me learn how to protect myself and how to throw punches," Gon recalled. Leorio had been against it, not wanting Gon to quote, 'turn into a hardened criminal'. But Kurapika insisted.

"Why'd he make you do that?" Killua scoffed.

"I... don't actually know," Gon trailed off, trying to remember Kurapika's reasoning. But he couldn't identify why he'd been forced to learn, only that Kurapika was very adamant about it. Well, who knows why Kurapika does anything?

Killua hummed in response before the room went silent for a while. It wasn't unbearable, though, not even for Gon. It was a comfortable silence between the two who had had a long, eventful day. They finished unpacking, and Gon decided he should head home. It was around six now, and he wanted to see Kurapika and Leorio. Killua walked him to the door. Gon opened it and left, walking the few steps to his door and moving to turn the doorknob.

"Wait, Gon," Killua said, stopping Gon in his tracks and causing him to turn around. Killua was looking at the ground. "Uh, I just wanted to say... Thanks. For today," He said, his voice hardly above a whisper.