Take My Heart

•CHAPTER 13•

||•Malice Confinement•||

•||Take My Heart||•

Killua’s footsteps echoed unpleasantly on the hard iron floor. Tragedies were lying all around the place. Killua couldn’t see Gon break down like this. He had to leave Gon along with the two females. Although he was anxious about leaving him, he knew that the woman and the fine girl are too important to Gon. He needed space to cry with them, and Killua needed time to reason with his father.

The echo of his feet abruptly stopped after a disturbing sound of friction. He was face to face with the eighteenth-century door of his father’s room. The door is made of fine and thick wood, pierced with metal to hold steady. It separated him from the room that Killua always avoided when he was younger. However, he’s the one who’s coming to it now, by his own feet. After the third knock, he went inside. His face was contorted with rage. “Scrap Gon’s name from the list of fighters.” 

Silva turned to look at his stubborn child. Even though Killua clearly witnessed his dad in a meeting with a lot of leaders, he didn’t give a shit. Silva looked around the fighters, contemplating what to do. It seemed that Killua won’t back out without talking about this just now. “Gon is still sick. He lost someone close just now, too.”

Silva didn’t reply, and Killua’s voice was echoing all around the metallic room. Aside from the sound of dripping water, stillness found its way inside. Finally, Silva excused himself. He grasped Killua’s elbow, forcing him outside the room, and closed the door. For some reason, he didn’t glare or glower at Killua for being disrespectful. For being so stubborn. He just looked down at him with a serious look. “I’m sure that Gon can speak for himself.”

“It’s—”

“Who do you think you are to talk on someone’s behalf? If you’re my son, that doesn’t mean you have any privilege to burst in the meeting room like this and throw your orders.” 

“Gon’s sick!”

“So what?!” Silva’s voice rang all around the empty and dark halls. The vibration extended into Killua’s ears, echoing hauntingly and making the effect thrive. “So what?” He repeated, sternly looking down at his son.  For some reason, Killua’s fight against his dad seemed useless. He felt like a child who knew nothing. This is war. 

His dad was the kind of man who always did the dirty job for the military. It’s the reason why he trained his children in self-defense and, at least, one weapon. Killua had to choose one, so he went with a sniper. However, daggers were a must too. It felt great to know some attack techniques. He didn’t know why his dad trained them on that until he graduated high school. They have a lot of underground haters…

So, now. Killua knows why his father, his mighty father, asked that. So what? Gon’s sick, but not disabled enough to stay out of the field. Not badly injured. Still good to fight… When a lot has already died, Gon’s still thriving. Why would he get an advantage when other fighters are more injured than him? “Have you considered asking Gon about it before you came here?” Silva asked again. 

“No.”

“Who are you to talk on his behalf?” 

“His lover.” Silva raised his head, however, his eyes were still piercing down at his son. His lover. And Silva has to excuse him because he’s his son’s lover. Lovely. “You’re just tossing him into the frying pan when you know he can’t defend himself.” Killua continued, and his voice danced amongst the escaping words. “Because, of course, Illumi told you that I have a thing for him. You dislike it, so Gon better gets out and die, right?”