A War Worth Fighting |DISCONTINUED|

Chapter 7: You Can't Change the Tides

4513 words.

Killua took a whiff as he seeped into the realm of consciousness. Salty, moist, but incredibly comforting. Comforting as the breeze would lift the small hairs when watching the waves ruffle next to Gon; conforming like Gon's calloused fingers tracing the ridges of his face; comforting like Gon. He wanted to open his eyes, wake up to see the other above him with his cherishing smile, and everything would be better. He could relieve himself from the past as though it was only a small phase, insignificant, and unimportant. It didn't matter.

Bright. Too bright. That's the second thing Killua noticed. It forced blinding light beneath his shut eyelids, bright like York New Harbor, bright like Gon.

And warm. His tired body sank into fluffy sheets, it was slightly noisy with others murmuring from afar--he wasn't alone, and the barely audible trickling of water soothed his ravenous stomach.

It was akin to a reverie: comforting, bright, warm; Gon.

His post-dazed eyes now focused on a ceiling. Or, kind-of a ceiling. It rippled like waves. A cloth? Perhaps so. But no Gon. He tried to suck in the odd feeling of disappointment--no avail.

Suddenly, as though someone had dropped a memory bomb, all the recollections prior to currently flashed before him. The blonde elf, Gon, the tidal wave, Gon, falling, Gon! He shot up, immediately recoiling as a stinging sensation pierced his stomach. Corresponding to a stream of warm water, blood tickled as it coursed down his legs into a scarlet pool.

Blackness encroached his vision in spurts. Where was he again?

"He's awake!"

Who's awake?

A familiar paladin yanked the curtained door open, yelling something Killua couldn't quite comprehend.

"No," Killua got into a defensive position, "don't come any closer!"

Leorio halted, then hesitantly began forward, approaching with caution as if confronting a feral animal.

"Where's Gon?" Asked Killua, eyes glowing with malevolence. Why did he leave, he wonders. Is he alive? Where am I? Where is Gon?

There is silence. All movement stopped except for the blood oozing from Killua's side and the water still trickling in the background, only this time, it's not confronting. His vision is still impaired, and all sounds are muffled.

"Leorio, we need your assistance with other patients!" Kurapika came into view.

Killua jumped to his feet, bristling, and eyes sharpening with contracted pupils. He didn't even wince when he clenched his wound out of sheer vexation, "Why the hell are you here?" He lunged onward, lashing out with slowed movements but nonetheless appalling. "Why-" he coughed out blood, voice pathetically cracking as he flailed to pin Kurapika to the ground, "why do you have to be here?!"

The blonde dodged the sloppy attacks, not even attempting once to fight back. It made Killua frustrated to tears, and before he had time to cast an arcane blast, a warm, viscous of a spell had him slump forward unconscious.

~*~

"Killua!"

He blinked with uncertainty, but he arose to the familiarity of the dreamed sound of a rumbling voice. It inked black inside the tent. The sunlight: gone, only to be replaced by orange glowing lanterns. Instead of the hushed buzz of outside murmurs, reverberances of old wood creaked and metal clanked, but the water--the water still trickled.