knight's Royal Duty || Gonkillu ||

《It's okay》

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He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on.

Another and Another year, the years went by and he was 18 by the time this was his last straw.

The storm outside seemed to mirror the storm inside him—wild, relentless, and unforgiving. Killua pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to push away the frustration, the sadness, the gnawing emptiness that had consumed him over the past year.

He hadn't expected Gon's absence to hit him this hard. At first, he had tried to be strong, telling himself that five months would pass quickly, that he could manage without Gon for that long. But the days had turned into weeks, and then into months. Each one felt heavier, more unbearable than the last. Every step he took without Gon at his side felt like a step deeper into the shadows he had fought so hard to escape.

The palace, once a place of quiet reflection and stolen moments of peace, had become a prison again. Without Gon, it felt colder, more suffocating. The walls, once softened by the warmth of companionship, now seemed to close in on him, trapping him in a life he had never wanted. His mother's presence was more stifling than ever, her sharp words cutting through any hope he had of resisting her control. He could feel her watching him, always watching, waiting for him to break.

And maybe he already had.

Killua's hands dropped into his lap as he stared blankly out the window, the rain blurring the world outside. He felt numb, drained of the fire and determination that Gon had helped him discover. The days felt meaningless without Gon's quiet reassurances, his gentle smiles, and the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say—even when Killua hadn't known what he needed to hear.

Why didn't he come back?

The question had haunted him for months. He knew that Gon's mission had been dangerous, complicated. He knew that these things rarely went according to plan. But a part of him, the part that trusted Gon more than anyone, had believed that he would return when he promised.

And now, after a year of silence, that trust was eroding, giving way to fear and doubt. Had something gone wrong? Had Gon chosen not to return? Was he hurt—or worse?

Killua stood up suddenly, the restless energy inside him too much to bear. He paced the room, his bare feet making soft sounds against the cold stone floor. His thoughts spiraled, racing faster than he could catch them.

Maybe Gon isn't coming back.

The thought struck him like a blow to the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. He staggered slightly, gripping the edge of his desk for support. The possibility of Gon never returning was something he hadn't allowed himself to consider, but now, it crashed over him like a wave, drowning him in panic.

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears like a deafening drum. He felt trapped again, but this time it wasn't just by the palace walls—it was by his own emotions. His own fear. His own helplessness.

He promised me.

Killua's fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He could hear Gon's voice in his head, soft and reassuring, telling him that he would come back, that everything would be okay. But the memory felt distant now, like a dream he couldn't quite remember.

The storm outside grew fiercer, the wind howling like a wild animal, and Killua felt the pressure building inside him. He needed to do something—anything—to release the weight of it. He wanted to scream, to run, to tear down the walls of the palace and escape this suffocating existence.

But instead, he sank to the floor, his back against the door, and let his head fall into his hands. The tension in his chest finally gave way to something he had been fighting for months—tears. They came slowly at first, hot and angry, but soon they were spilling freely, dripping down his face as he sat there, powerless to stop them.