knight's Royal Duty || Gonkillu ||

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When Killua opened his eyes, the world was silent.

His body ached, every muscle screaming in pain as he tried to move. The air was thick with smoke, and the ground beneath him was scorched and covered in debris. It took him a moment to remember where he was, but when the memories came flooding back, his heart clenched with fear.

"Gon," Killua whispered, his voice hoarse as he pushed himself up.

He looked around frantically, his eyes scanning the battlefield for any sign of his friend. The battlefield was eerily still, the bodies of fallen soldiers scattered across the ground like broken dolls. The smell of burning wood and flesh hung heavy in the air, making Killua's stomach turn.

But there was no sign of Gon.

Panic surged through Killua as he stumbled to his feet, his legs weak and unsteady. "Gon!" he shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. "Gon, where are you?!"

He moved through the wreckage, his heart pounding in his chest. Every step felt like an eternity as he searched the battlefield, praying that he would find Gon alive. But with each passing second, the fear grew stronger—the fear that he was too late.

And then, through the smoke, he saw him.

Gon lay a few feet away, his body half-buried beneath a pile of rubble. His armor was dented and scorched, his face pale and smeared with dirt and blood. He wasn't moving.

"No!" Killua screamed, rushing toward him.

He dropped to his knees beside Gon, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch his friend's shoulder. "Gon, wake up," Killua whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Please, wake up."

For a moment, there was nothing. No response. No sign of life.

But then, slowly, Gon's eyes fluttered open.

"Killua..." Gon's voice was weak, barely a whisper, but it was enough to make Killua's heart leap with relief. Tears stung his eyes as he leaned closer, his hands trembling as he gently touched Gon's shoulder.

"You're alive," Killua whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank God."

Gon winced, trying to sit up but failing as pain shot through his body. "Barely..." he muttered, coughing weakly.

"Don't move," Killua said quickly, placing a hand on Gon's chest to keep him from trying again. "You're hurt, Gon. Just stay still, okay?"

Gon closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing labored. "We have to get out of here... it's not safe."

Killua shook his head, his hands still trembling from the rush of adrenaline and fear. "I know, but you can't move like this. I'll find help. We're not far from the main camp—I'll get someone."

Gon opened his eyes again, his expression filled with both pain and worry. "No, don't. It's too dangerous. The enemy... they'll come back."

"Let me worry about that," Killua said firmly, though the knot of fear in his stomach told him that Gon was probably right. The battlefield was still, but that didn't mean the enemy wouldn't return to finish what they started.

But Killua couldn't leave Gon here. Not like this.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," Killua said, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to do. "I'll carry you."

Gon shook his head, his face pale and strained. "You can't... I'll slow you down."

"I don't care," Killua replied, his tone sharp with determination. "I'm not leaving you here, Gon. I'll get you back to camp, and then we'll figure it out. But I'm not losing you, okay?"

Gon looked at him for a long moment, his expression softening despite the pain in his eyes. He nodded slightly, his voice quiet. "Okay."

Killua took a deep breath and carefully helped Gon into a sitting position, supporting him as best as he could. Gon gritted his teeth against the pain, but he didn't complain. Killua could see the effort it took for Gon to stay conscious, to keep going despite the injuries he had sustained.

"Just hold on," Killua muttered as he slung Gon's arm over his shoulder. "We'll make it."

The journey back to camp was grueling. Every step was a struggle, and every breath was a reminder of the pain that coursed through Killua's body. The arrow wound in his side had reopened during the ambush, and he could feel the warm, sticky blood soaking through his tunic. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was getting Gon to safety.

Gon was barely conscious, his body limp against Killua as they stumbled through the wreckage of the battlefield. Every so often, Gon would stir, murmuring something under his breath, but he was too weak to speak clearly. Killua's heart clenched with every pained sound that escaped Gon's lips.

He couldn't let Gon die. Not here. Not like this.