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“Gon,” Leorio barks, “Haven’t you people heard of public transportation?” The question is more of an accusation than an inquiry, but Leorio is hot and sore and covered in bug bites, so he doesn’t really think to mind his tone.
“I’m sorry, Leorio,” says Gon, sounding truly apologetic. “Walking is the only way to get anywhere on Whale Island.”
When they arrived at the island’s port early last evening, Leorio had been elated to finally be on solid ground again. Now he would’ve given anything to be back on that ship, away from this muddy trail and the strange sounds of the forest.
“We’ve been walking all night,” he moans. “Look, the sun’s coming up!” he points out, staring incredulously at the horizon. Soft light filters through the trees, dimly illuminating their path. He looks down; his shoes are caked in dirt.
“You’re really getting old, aren’t you?” remarks Killua. He’s smirking, walking a few paces ahead, clearly unaffected by their arduous journey. Gon and Killua are both fourteen now, slightly taller and sturdier, but more or less untouched by time; Leorio himself is 21, but he feels much older, trailing behind the others like a geriatric resident in a hospice.
“Shut up,” snaps Leorio, too exhausted to manage anything more.
“You’re the one complaining,” replies Killua in a sing-song voice, clearly taking pleasure in Leorio’s misery.
“I swear, you’re dead the minute I get my hands on you,” threatens Leorio, futilely reaching towards the white-haired imp, who skips ahead gleefully.
“Guess that means I’m immortal, huh, old man?” snarks Killua over his shoulder. Leorio wants to wring his neck.
“Killua…” says Gon in a scolding tone, “Cut it out.”
Leorio feels his heart swell in his chest, privately thanking Gon for coming to his defense.
“It’s not nice to tease the elderly,” Gon adds playfully, and both boys succumb to a fit of giggles. Killua slings an arm around Gon’s shoulder and leans into him, seemingly unable to support himself.
“Argh! Brats, the both of you!” rages Leorio, shaking his fist. “You guys better sleep with one eye o-” he starts to say, but is interrupted by a firm hand on his arm.
“Don’t act childishly, Leorio,” chastises Kurapika, speaking for the first time in a few hours. Leorio gives Kurapika a once-over, noting belatedly that the blond looks tired, forehead slightly damp with perspiration, but he seems content. The expression seems familiar, like he’s found an cherished item, one he thought he’d lost.
His anger subsides.
“We’re almost there,” promises Gon. “This is the last hill. Once we get to the top, we’ll be able to see Mito-san's house!” He sounds practically giddy. Leorio is relieved, thinking excitedly about the prospect of a hot shower, a soft mattress, and cool sheets.
He focuses on these thoughts as the four of them make their way up the steep incline, his feet aching from overuse. When they reach the peak, he collapses on the soft, dewy grass, breathing heavily. The sky is painted purple and pink, dawn already upon them.
“Do you want to rest here?” asks Gon, but Leorio knows that he’s eager to get home, so he shakes his head.
From here he can see a small house a short distance away, intricately embedded within a large tree. It’s smaller than he’d imagined, but it’s a comforting discovery; close quarters means they’ll be spending time together, which is the whole point of this trip, isn’t it?
A pretty young woman dressed humbly in an apon exits the house, carrying a laundry basket. As she begins to pin white linens to a clothesline, Leorio realizes that must be-
“Mito-san!” says Gon excitedly, though not loud enough for her to hear. “Killua, c’mon!” He grabs his friend’s hand and pulls him towards the house, breaking into a sprint. Leorio can’t see Killua’s face, but he knows that the boy is smiling, knows it in the way Killua clings tightly to Gon’s hand, following him without question.
“They didn’t even wait for us…” grumbles Leorio, slightly put-out. The two brats have already been enveloped in a hug from Mito, who doesn’t seem to be letting go anytime soon.
“It’s fine,” says Kurapika, “We can take our time now.” Leorio realizes that Kurapika is slowing down mainly for him, and he has to fight down a smile. Suddenly he’s grateful for every bug bite, every sore muscle, every speck of dirt on his shoes - because they’re all souvenirs, really, of his time with the others.
“This place is kind of nice,” he says, really looking around for the first time. The ocean is visible from their position, and he takes a moment to appreciate the vibrant hues of blue and green.
His companion remains silent, surprising the older male.
“What, you don’t think so?” asks Leorio.
“It’s not that,” sighs Kurapika.
“Then what is it?” asks Leorio, slightly concerned by Kurapika’s sudden mood swing.
“…It’s nothing,” comes the evasion, just as Leorio expected.
“Then would you cheer up? We’re only here for a week, you know,” he says. Judging by Kurapika’s flinch, he figures he’s accidentally hit the nail on the head. Of course, he thinks, he’s worried about what comes after.
He grips Kurapika by the shoulders; they feel so small in his hands. “You always make things so complicated for yourself,” he berates, sounding harsh but not meaning to. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, live for right now? Stop being so…” he searches for the word.
“Lugubrious?”
“Depressing.”
Kurapika actually laughs at that, and Leorio smiles, easing his grip.
“See, like this,” he points to the blond’s face, indicating Kurapika’s smile. “You’re much cuter like this,” he jokes.
Kurapika elbows him. “Don’t say things like that,” he says, but he’s still smiling.
“You ready to go now?”
Kurapika scoffs. “I’m waiting on you, old man.”
Leorio pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not you too,” he complains, but he feels refreshed in a way, younger and revitalized.
“Let’s go then.”