knight's Royal Duty || Gonkillu ||

《why?》

The days following Killua's breakdown marked a subtle but profound shift in the prince's relationship with Gon. Where there had once been an invisible wall between them, built of Killua's fear, shame, and the endless expectations of the crown, it was now slowly crumbling. It wasn't something they spoke of openly, but Killua knew it as much as Gon did—the quiet moments between them, the shared silences, had changed.

Killua found himself seeking out Gon's company more than before. Not in a way that could be seen as unusual by the palace's ever-watchful eyes, but in the small ways that mattered most. Whether it was their late-night conversations in the palace gardens, their morning walks through the quiet hallways, or even just sitting together in silence as Killua poured over royal documents, Gon's presence had become a constant source of comfort.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Killua felt safe—not from the physical threats of the outside world, but from the emotional storm raging inside him. Gon didn't ask him to be perfect, didn't expect him to meet some impossible standard. He simply *was*—and that, more than anything, made Killua feel like he could breathe.

One afternoon, as they sat beneath the shade of an old tree in the garden, Killua found himself speaking aloud without really meaning to.

"Do you ever think about leaving?"

Gon, who had been watching a butterfly flit lazily by, turned his head to Killua with a curious smile. "Leaving the palace?"

Killua hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Leaving all of this. Just... disappearing."

Gon's smile softened, and he shifted slightly, resting his arms on his knees. "Sometimes. But I've never really wanted to disappear."

Killua frowned, tracing patterns in the dirt with his finger. "Why not? Wouldn't it be easier?"

"Maybe," Gon admitted. "But easier doesn't mean better. There's still a lot worth staying for."

Killua glanced at him, his silver eyes reflecting a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. "Like what?"

Gon looked at Killua for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled, that familiar, gentle smile that had become Killua's anchor. "Like you."

Killua's heart stuttered in his chest, and he quickly looked away, feeling his face grow warm. He didn't know how to respond to that—not in a way that didn't make him feel exposed. But something about Gon's words settled deep in his chest, a quiet reassurance that lingered long after their conversation had moved on to other, lighter topics.

It was in those moments that Killua realized something important: he *trusted* Gon, more than anyone else in his life. And that trust was terrifying. Because trusting someone meant relying on them, and relying on them meant risking the pain of losing them.

But for now, Killua chose to hold on to that trust. He had spent too long locking himself away from others. If Gon was willing to stay by his side, then Killua was willing to let him.

---

The day Gon told Killua about the mission came with an unsettling heaviness. They were sitting in the same spot beneath the old tree, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the garden. Gon's voice was calm as he explained the situation—he had been assigned to a mission outside the kingdom's borders, one that could last several months. It wasn't something he could refuse.

Killua didn't react immediately. He knew how the palace worked. Gon wasn't just his personal guard—he was a royal asset, someone the kingdom could call on for any number of tasks. Still, the thought of Gon leaving, of being without his presence for five months, made Killua's chest tighten in a way he hadn't expected.