Chapter Text
Gon rubbed his nose, wondering what came over him. In the five years he’d been with the Troupe (the only five years he remembers, Gon thinks morosely), he had never sneezed once. He had only seen other people sneeze. The feeling was weird, he decided. Gon had discovered, along with the rest of the group, that he never gets sick. The Boss theorized that he had an over-active healing factor and immune system, evidenced by past experiences with the Troupe—stuff Gon didn’t want to remember.
“Someone must be talking about you,” came a bored voice from his left. Gon glanced over at the figure clad in black. Feitan looked the same as ever, with his collar high up, covering his mouth as per usual. He was reading one of the books they had recently stole. He didn’t look up as he spoke.
“What do you mean?” Gon asked curiously, never hearing of this phenomenon before. Feitan finally deigned Gon with a look in his direction as he sighed and closed his book. They had been walking for miles now, in the barren desert.
“In most cases,” he began in a bored tone, “I would just write it off as a sneeze. But we both know better. In some rare instances, when someone sneezes, it means someone is talking about them. I’ll tell the boss about it later. It might be nothing. It might be something. All I know is Nobunaga would kill me if you were even threatened under my watch.”
Gon couldn’t help but giggle. “But, Feitan, we’re a murdering band of thieves. Of course we’re going to be threatened.”
Feitan rolled his eyes and punched Gon lightly in the shoulder. Which hurt, obviously, because Feitan couldn’t help but hurt people. “Well, I don’t want to incur the wrath of him. You know how he gets, with that giant sword up his ass—especially when it comes to you.”
Gon knew what he was getting into but he couldn’t help but push Feitan back. Hard, of course. An eye for an eye and all. Feitan stumbled and nearly falls to the ground but his superior reflexes saved him
“What,” Gon teased, “you don’t think you could take him?”
Feitan was glaring at Gon with an evil look in his eye, but Gon’s amused smile wasn’t deterred.
“You little brat,” Feitan growled. “I could beat that katana fighter with my umbrella any day. I wouldn’t even need to use my Hatsu.”
Gon couldn’t help but laugh. They started walking again and Gon got lost in thought. Feitan and he would tease each other all the time, every single time it was fun to rile him up. And Feitan does the same thing to him so it’s only payback. Feitan started it after all…
Four Years and Six Months Earlier
It had officially been six months since Gon had joined the Spiders. Well, maybe ‘joined’ wasn’t the right word. He hadn’t actually joined yet, considering he hadn’t gone on any thieving excursions ever. Nobunaga had forbidden it. But tonight was the night. They were robbing a noble family’s tomb. Suspected Nen-users as guards. Not what usually draws the entire Troupe, but the Boss wanted everyone to be there for Gon’s first mission.
Gon didn’t want to admit it, but he was nervous. He had, of course, trained extensively with a few of the members of the Troupe—mostly Nobunaga and Machi for physical combat and Nen use and the Boss for theoretical and academic studies (steam was coming out of Gon’s ears just thinking about the lessons he had with the Boss). He was ready. More than ready. His strength was now firmly placed in the middle of the Troupe but there was no real way to test his combat ability without an actual mission.
The problem was, Gon didn’t know if he was ready to kill somebody. The Boss says he is, and the rest of the members do too, but something was holding Gon back. Maybe it was his life before the Phantom Troupe. That life he can’t remember. It sometimes feels like he’s trying to itch a missing limb that can never be scratched. He yearns for those lost memories, but he knows they can’t be recovered. When the Troupe had found him several months ago, they had Pakunoda go through his memories to try to bring anything to the surface but it seems they were just gone. Gon still held out hope that they would come back soon, and then he could go back to the family he imagined was looking for him. Even though the boss said they investigated and didn’t find anyone looking for him, Gon still could dream.
Maybe that white-haired boy would come back for him. He had looked so heartbroken when Gon had asked who he was. When Gon inquired later about what happened to him, Nobunaga had waved off his concerns, telling him the boy went back to his home. Still, maybe one day that boy would come back for him. That’s not to say Gon didn’t like the Phantom Troupe. He understood killing was just a way of life for them, and that they even took pleasure from it, but he didn’t know if he quite fit in with them.
There was a knock on the door of the room he was currently staying in. Standing in the doorway was Hisoka. Gon frowned internally. The magician had always given off a weird vibe to Gon—like he was entirely amused with Gon’s situation, but he couldn’t figure out why.
“Oh Gon~,” Hisoka practically sang, “It’s time.”
The majority of the rest of the night blurred together. They arrived in a blaze of Franklin’s bullets, taking out the simple guards with guns. The few Nen-users of the guards came forward to attack. Only Gon and Nobunaga were fighting the guards. The Boss and the rest of the Troupe stayed back to let Gon earn his tattoo.
In Gon’s opinion, the fight was easy. There were three Nen users in all and Nobunaga gave Gon the one on the left while he took the two on the right. The man’s ability was pretty simple—a rudimentary fire quirk that paled in comparison to what Gon had heard about Feitan’s Hatsu. In under five minutes, two heads were rolling on the ground by Nobunaga’s katana. At the same time the swordsman was finished and had cleaned and put his sword back in its sheath, Gon was towering over his unconscious guard with his fist pulled back. The Boss came forward with the rest of the Troupe.
“Marvelously done,” the Boss commended. “Now, finish the job.”
Gon started powering up his punch but just as it reached its zenith, he let the power dissipate.
“No,” Gon said quietly.
“No?” Nobunaga spoke up, “What do you mean? This is what you’ve been training for!”
“I don’t want to kill people!” Gon shouted.
Suddenly, his arm was wrenched behind him in a very uncomfortable position. He cried out in distress before clamping his mouth shut. It was Feitan. For some reason, this position felt awfully familiar but Gon couldn’t tell why.
“If you don’t kill that man, I’m going to break your arm.” Feitan hissed. Nobunaga tried to step in but the Boss gave a shake of his head. This needed to happen. Nobunaga moved back, but not without a grimace.
The rest of the group watched Gon’s struggle, not offering any help—not like Gon thought they would. It felt good to see Nobunaga tried to help him, though. His arm was twisted harder and Gon had to hold back a yell.
“Well?” Feitan pressed.
“Never!” Gon closed his eyes in defiance, readying himself.
Snap.
The pain was excruciating. But it felt familiar at the same time. Gon tried to follow where the ghost of the memory was coming from but it slipped away like smoke through his fingers. He had fallen to his knees from the pain and through blurry eyes, he saw the boss’s boots come into view, along with the bottom of his long coat. The Boss kneeled down to make eye contact with him, but Gon only closed his eyes once again. The Boss gripped his chin hard and forced Gon’s head to face him.
“Look at me,” the Boss ordered calmy.
Gon didn’t listen.
“Gon, look at him. For your own good.” That was Nobunaga. Begrudgingly, Gon opened his eyes to be greeted by the passive face of the Boss. He observed the boy for a moment before speaking
“Someone asked me once why I kill. I couldn’t give them an answer then but I might be able to give one now. It’s about survival, Gon. If they are too weak to survive, they are in my way. Part of it comes with the territory of thievery. If someone is between me and something I want, I take care of them.”
Now the Boss stood up again.
“But another part of it, Gon? I like it.”
He nodded at Feitan, who grabbed Gon’s one good arm and twisted it behind his back much like he did the other.
“And you’ll learn to love it too.”
Gon could only hold back tears as the pain in his arms threatened to overwhelm him.
“Are you ready to do your duty yet?” Feitan asked.
“Go. To. Hell.”
Snap.
This time Gon couldn’t hold back his scream but he clamped his lips together after a few seconds. Feitan stepped out from behind him and came around to see his face.
“You’ve got my respect, brat. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you off the hook.”
He walked over to the fire Nen-user who was finally waking up. He couldn’t move, however, considering Machi had tied him up with her Nen wire while the Boss and Feitan were... helping Gon. The man started struggling the closer Feitan got to him, but Feitan only chuckled.
“Oh, I’m sorry, but you won’t be living past tonight I’m afraid.”
The guard’s eyes widened in fear. In a flash, Feitan had taken out his umbrella and removed the handle from the rest, revealing a long, sharp blade. Without a hint of hesitation, Feitan sliced off the man’s right hand. His screams of agony soon filled the air and Gon winced.
Feitan made eye contact with Gon. There was no remorse in his eyes.
“If you don’t kill this man right now, I will torture him until he begs for death. I will cut off every part of him slowly, piece by piece, until he pleads with me to end it all. What is your choice, Gon?”
Gon was lost and he had no way to be found. He closed his eyes, but not in defiance. Letting his arms hang loosely, Gon stood up and made his way over to Feitan and the guard, who was still wailing about his lost appendage. Knowing his own arms were useless, Gon walked over to the guard’s head and raises his foot. He looks back to the Troupe. They’re all watching, waiting with anticipation. This is the moment. He couldn’t come back from this.
He built up Nen in his leg, and when the power reached his climax, he brought his foot down with a sickening—
Present
Gon was violently shaken out of the memory by Feitan opening his umbrella in his face, startling him to the ground. He pointed ahead and Gon could finally see the outline of Meteor City.
“Finally. We’re home.”