This Won't End Well

11: How To Break-Up Sibling Rivalry

TW: implied familial abuse (both verbal and physical)

Gon sat on the couch, lazily munching honey nut cheerios. Some random game show was on the TV, the sound drowned by Gon's chewing and stray noises from next door.

Gon stood from the couch slowly, stretching as he did so and taking in a deep breath. He let it out, a small smile of satisfaction crept its way onto his face. Last night had been the first night in nearly two weeks he slept well. No painful dreams, no Avatar and Cherry Garcia ice cream lulling him to sleep, no agonizing over a particular ex-girlfriend until dawn's sunlight crept through his windows- just sleep.

He stumbled over to the kitchen, feelings of warm content washing over him as well as the morning sun brushing his face and exposed arms. It was only around nine or so: Kurapika and Leorio had long gone to their respective jobs, leaving Gon to his devices. He rinsed his breakfast dishes, the water splashing from the sink onto Gon's skin and shirt. It was usually something that ticked him off, making him grumble and curse under his breath. But this morning, he was in a light mood that nothing could change.

Or, so he thought.

A couple of minutes later, Gon had changed into casual clothes, paired with his signature green converse, of course. As for his to-do list, it was the same as it had been every other day for the past two-ish weeks: visit Killua and pester him until he agreed to waste the day away with him.

Gon went to the door, resting his hand on the doorknob before something stopped him from opening it. He heard a muffled conversation on the other side. The words shared weren't quite at the volume or intensity to be classified as arguing. But it wasn't a lighthearted conversation either. It made Gon's stomach drop and his breathing catch in his throat.

"What are you doing here?"

"You know why I'm here."

"I'm not going home."

"Mother and father miss you. I miss-"

"You miss having someone to torment."

"Nonsense. We have Kalluto and that other... thing... for those purposes. I simply miss my little brother."

"Don't fucking touch them. And I'm not your brother."

"You can't just disown me through words. We're family."

"You don't have the right to call me that. We are not family."

"We share the same parents, the same blood, the same siblings. We are indeed family. You can't wish that away as much as you want to."

"Shut up."

"We'll always be connected. We'll always be family. You'll never escape that, Killu."

Gon's eyes widened at the last word. Killu? Killua? Gon threw open the door instantly.

Killua was standing in the doorway of his apartment, caving into himself. He looked at Gon with wide eyes, and every trace of color drained from his face. Gon could see his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven increments. It was an expression Gon had never seen on Killua's face: terror.

"Killua. Are you alright?" Gon asked.

KIllua shook his head quickly, begging Gon to go back inside. "I-"

"This does not concern you. Leave. Now," The man standing next to Killua droned. His voice was cold and chilling, like a haunted lullaby. His voice made every hair on Gon's body stand on end, and goosebumps prick his arms. He wore a black velvet suit and monochromatic dress shoes. His hair was ebony and pin-straight, flowing well past his hips. He was taller than both boys, standing with an eerily straight posture. He radiated corrupt yet compelling tact.