notes: whale island
And sometimes, when they are alone, Gon tries to map him, like he is veined with water rather than blood. But Killua, if anything, will always be of blood— of death and dark and rot— so, when Gon asks, with his hands over his, “Ne, where did this scar come from?”, Killua has to look away, has to swallow back his lungs to answer, “Training” and then “It’s really nothing,” like neither is code or craft for, “I got it when I killed someone.”
I deserved it, because I killed someone.
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