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The dim yellow light of the bathroom was all that illuminated his hands. Killua hated looking at his hands, but when he was alone he could never stop. The purple and blue mapping his wrists with every neck he’s snapped like a rubber band, every slice he’s made into a target’s vital points. He’s always had a problem cleaning the blood from underneath his fingernails, there was always a little left.
And you can’t wash away blood that easily.
Killua extended his claws, watching how his hand tensed and the veins popped from underneath the skin, crackling like lightning. When he placed the tips onto his arm he thought about pain. As if to satisfy that curiosity he applied enough pressure to break his skin, enough to make his blood pool on the wound and drip down his forearm into the warm bath water. It was mesmerizing in a way, the contrast of the deep red over such white skin, the way the blood swirled when it dripped into the water.
“How stupid..”
But he couldn’t stop. It was like each cut was both painful and pleasurable. He felt like it released a tension he had bubbling inside, like with each cut guilt flowed out of him. But around the 5th red slice, down his outer thigh, Killua realised how wrong this was. He realised that he shouldn’t, that this was bad, that this would in no way help him cope with anything. But he also felt like this was the only thing he could do.
He couldn’t stop looking at his hands. His wrists… he sniffled. “Stupid…” he placed the tips on one of the paths of his map.
“You called?” a knock at the bathroom door, the knob turned. What Gon saw when he entered the bathroom felt wrong. The way Killua’s hands were placed, the way his claws were sharp and ready, the way Killua’s face was filled with an unfamiliar emotion. His eyes were wide in surprise but not in his usual bashful shyness, there was guilt and regret in that expression.
The moment Gon saw the blood he ran to Killua.
“What happened??? Did someone attack you??” but as soon as the words left his mouth, Gon knew it wasn’t that. He grabbed Killua’s wrists, one of which had the beginning of a shallow cut. Gon could feel the blood slick against his hand. “Killua?”
Killua looked away.
“Gon, I-“ Killua’s eyes focused on something far away. Was he about to kill himself? There was a heavy weight on his stomach; he could feel his eyes blink away tears. His wrists trembled in Gon’s grip as he retracted his nails back.
“Why did you hurt yourself?” Gon’s voice was timid, unlike him. When Killua finally met his gaze he saw that Gon was pained. “Killua, why?” Gon’s voice wasn’t angry. It sounded small. It made Killua’s throat tingle, he couldn’t speak. His voice might break.
“I’m sorry… I just can’t-” Killua’s voice came out rough, a whisper echoed by the dripping of blood down his arms into the water. “I just don’t know what to do.” Gon let go of Killua’s wrists and pulled his torso towards him as he wrapped his arms tightly around his friend.
“I’m here for you… so please don’t…”
That was the first time Killua cried in the arms of someone other than Alluka.