Gon and Killua sad One-shot

Departure

The sky thundered, bullets of water crashing down from above, dragging any remaining life away with it in streams of crimson and dirt; draining the last heat from Gon's hand which turned cold in Killua's own, leaving only wishes and dreams that were never to be.

Whilst his friend's world faded to black Killua closed his eyes, salty rain seeping down his cheeks, and his grip tightened as Gon rose. Higher and higher, slipping out of his reach as he struggled to keep ahold.

Maybe fate would be kind and take Killua's life along with the blood running from his wounds. Maybe he would be lucky and drift upwards with the boy that once been his friend. 

The boy that had taught him friendship. The boy that had taught him life.

The boy that had taught him love.

Why did Gon have to leave him alone while he moved on to his next adventure?

They always ventured together...

Weren't friends supposed to stick together? Wasn't that the whole point? Now the only things sticking were his clothes, drenched in both his friend's blood and his own, and the murky water that trickled from the hill as they lay motionless at the bottom.

He opened his eyes to the sky, but there was nothing left behind the blue screens.

Not all things went to plan. Not all fights ended in victory.

Killua plucked a card up out of the water and held it above his head. Rain and blood-mingled dirt swam in his eyes making it hard to read the markings on it. He guessed it would be an Ace. It seemed like the type of ironic joke someone that heartless would play. 

Maybe this had been Gon's intention after all. Maybe the thick red spreading out beneath them was what he wanted.

Maybe he was happy now.

Gon had danced his way into Killua's life; taken his hand and dragged him forwards. He had been the sun to Killua's long and cold night. Had arrived when he'd been at his lowest and had flittered out just as soon, leaving a void for the dark to crash back into, allowing it crawl back into Killua, consuming him once more. Crushing him, suffocating him. A cloud of thick black smoke that fogged his vision and caught like a dagger in his chest.

If he listened carefully, he could almost hear his cheery voice through the rain singing for him to stay strong, and whilst Killua still felt his friend's hand in his own, he knew that Gon was drifting afar.

Even so, a gentle gust of wind danced through the inky night sky. A gentle gust of wind that stroked his cheek, and left a tender kiss on his forehead. 

One last sweet gesture that Killua could never return.