As it turned out, Zushi had family just across the bridge in Oakland. Sundays were reserved for family affairs for Zushi, and given that they had a study session the morning of, Zushi turned to Gon and asked if he wanted to join.

"I used to play the drums, so there's a set in the garage," Zushi explained.

"I never learned the drums," he confessed, but he knew how to play the guitar and even owned an electric guitar and amp, so they packed it into the back of Zushi's mom's car and headed to Oakland for the day.

"Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys today, Mrs. Umi and—um, Miss Umi," Gon said as joined Zushi in the car. He glanced over at Zushi for approval, and Zushi gave him a thumbs up. Two moms made it difficult to tell them apart, and Gon's upbringing prevented him from using a strictly first-name basis with his friends' parents.

"You're always welcome," Miss Umi said from the passenger's seat. She beamed at Gon before her wife put the car into drive and, still halted on the side of the road, pointed a finger at them through the rear view mirror and said, "This car isn't movin' 'till both of you buckle up."

Zushi groaned and said, "Yeesh, Mama..."

Gon looped the buckle across his chest and clicked it in, saying, "Safety first ."

The SUV traveled over the Bay Bridge with Alcatraz off in the distance among the waves and the tourist boats traveling to and from the Golden Gate. It was a relatively clear day, which brought color to the sky for once—a crystal blue that shined with the sun on the surface of the Bay. Gon looked to Zushi, who beamed back at him as the two of them watched the Oakland shore sweep beneath them.

It was the perfect day for Gon to escape everything—the apartment... Ikalgo... Killua...

Hold on , Gon thought, a hand to his head. When did Killua get in there? Nope, not thinking about it. Definitely not thinking about it .

"What're you thinking about?" Zushi said, head tipped to the side. "Ya look kinda constipated there."

Gon snorted, scoffed, and said, "I am not thinking."

"For some reason I thought you were gonna keep going. Not thinking... about...?"

"Who needs to think when it's Sunday and I finished all my homework yesterday?" Gon said with a nervous laugh, but it was true. After getting back from the walk with Ikalgo, Gon holed himself up in his room, finished his homework, and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening watching Netflix.

Which was precisely why Killua woke up that morning and simply thought that Gon was still in his room when, in fact, Gon was long gone and already in Oakland plugging in his amp to an outlet in Zushi's parents' garage.

Killua rubbed at his bedhead and checked the time on the stove. It was already noon and, after a total of seven hours of sleep, he was ready to collapse again. He couldn't deny, however, that his mind kept reeling back to buying the flower bouquet. Clearly, he crossed a line, and now he couldn't help but concern himself with it. The guilt was eating him alive.

So Killua went to Gon's bedroom door and, after hesitating, and then getting down on the ground to try and peek under the door for activity, decided to knock.

No answer.

Well, since I knocked once I might as well knock again , he thought, and so he did. He knocked several more times before determining that Gon was either furious with him, or not in the apartment.

He reached for the handle.

His eyes went back to the refrigerator, where the roommate agreement used to be. It was still in the drawer Gon left it in when Ikalgo came through. Killua sighed and went to pin it back up, thinking to himself about how, at the very least, he needed to maintain the rules if Gon was going to go breaking them.

He stuck the magnets on the top corners of the sheet. He busied himself with breakfast, but his attention kept sliding over to Gon's room. Worry oozed out of every pore of his body. He felt congested with it, his chest tight.

As he sat at the kitchen table, facing their rooms, Killua slumped to the side with a groan of resentment for himself. Why did he have to get flowers? Sure, Gon said he always wanted flowers, but something wasn't right about this time.

He pushed to his feet and hurried to Gon's door. There, he turned the handle, his eyes flitting back to the foyer. His luck dictated that Gon would walk in at that very moment, but he didn't, and so Killua proceeded.

The door creaked on its hinges when Killua pulled it open. He peered in, saying, "Gon? You there?" but there was no answer.

The lights were off, but the window illuminated the ruffled sheets and the empty space on the bed where Gon had slept the night before. There were clothes on the ground, in little bundles—like Gon shimmed out of his clothes all in one step and left them where they fell each day. Melvin 2.0 was on display in the corner of the room, and an empty guitar stand sat next to it in the shadows.

Killua sighed. So he isn't here , he determined, and went to close the door. His eyes caught on Gon's desk, though, where the culprit sat, still wrapped, on the wood.

The white roses.

The idiot didn't even put them in a vase , Killua thought, slapping his hand to his side. He went into the room and snatched them off of the desk, only to hesitate.

If he put them in a vase now, Gon would know that he was in here, right?

The roses were already wilting, though, to Killua started taking off the plastic wrapping and brought it into the kitchen where he dug around their kitchen supplies for something similar to a vase.

The closest thing he could find was a mason jar, so he filled it with water. The height of the flowers sent the mason jar wobbling, so he clipped the stems before slipping them into the mason jar. He arranged the eucalyptus just so... and there. It was perfect.

He went back to Gon's room with the mason jar of flowers. The rose petals were limp, but by the end of the day, they would be firm and soft again where Killua left them on Gon's desk. After shutting Gon's door, he went back to his breakfast, and decided to ignore whatever lingering concerns he had about Gon.

Meanwhile, in Oakland, Mrs. and Miss Umi were on the couch in their garage eating crackers and hummus while Gon and Zushi serenaded them via classic 2000s music.

" You'll say... the world's come between us... Our lives have come between us—Still I know you just don't care , " Gon sang into the nonexistent microphone stand, which was just a t-ball stand propped up on a box. His eyes dropped to the strings on his guitar, strumming faster as the chorus approached fast to merge with the succession of Zushi's percussion crashing into a smooth beat.

Gon slammed his foot down, belting out, " And I said! 'What about! Breakfast at Tiffany's!' And she said—'I think I—remember the film and—as I recall, I think we both kinda liked it! '

"' And I said, 'Well that's—ONE THING WE'VE GOT! '"

He spun, shimmying his shoulders with every swift downstroke on the guitar. In doing so, though, he was wound up in the cord attached to his guitar—curses, those damn electric guitars, and he would have tumbled and tripped straight over it as Zushi's moms not shouted in terror.

He reversed the spin and stepped out of the snare of cords, giggling and looking back at Zushi, who stilled a hand over the cymbals and said, "I see why you stick to acoustics now."

"I'm antsy! I can't help it," Gon said, kicking the cord. "And also, it's kinda hard to be quiet with an electric guitar around the apartment."

"It's not like you've got roommates ," Zushi said. "You wouldn't be bothering anyone."

"Yeah, except my neighbors ," Gon muttered with a huff, pouting down at his guitar.

"I hear you've practically got yourself a roommate," Miss Umi teased from the couch, and Mrs. Umi nudged her in the arm, hiding a laugh behind her hand.

It took a second for Gon to catch on. His cheeks flushed red, reminded of how Zushi and Knuckle witnessed Killua leaving the apartment. He turned, eyes wide, to look at Zushi, who blushed, caught snitching.

"Y-You told your parents about me and—!" Gon squeaked.

Zushi yelped. "I-I tell them everything! They know all about Killua!"

Both of his parents nodded resolutely because yes , it was true they knew everything about Killua that Zushi knew. Miss Umi pulled her phone out to show Gon, "See? I follow that sweet journalist—Retz, right?"

"Right!" Zushi chimed, tapping his drumsticks together. He stopped when Gon turned to frown at him. Zushi winced, grimaced, and said, "Sorry..."

"It's okay," Gon sighed.

Zushi perked up. "Oh! But you said there was more to the story. I'm still waiting on that, mister."

"And so are we," his mom said, and Gon withered. Parental disappointment was the bane of his existence, and there he was, disappointing Zushi's mothers with all of his lies.

Curse his admiration for mother figures.

He groaned and stomped his foot. He plucked a few sad notes out on his guitar and wavered the brassy string on his fretboard. Once that was punctuated, he slapped his hand onto his lap and whined, " Fine , I guess I can tell you."

Zushi thrust his fists in the air. "Yes! Finally!"

Gon opened his stupid mouth and all that came out was a squeak and a gasp of defeat. He slumped with a groan. "I can't do it."

Zushi groaned, slapping his drumsticks down with a crash on the canvas. Gon winced, hugging the body of his guitar as Zushi jabbed a drumstick in his direction—a silent and very real threat.

"I'm just—! With Ikalgo showing up, everything's just... become more complicated," Gon confessed, and, for whatever reason, the next thing to come to mind flew out of his mouth without warning. "And I just found out that my dad exists and lives in San Fran so..."

He blinked, startled that he even mentioned it. As far as he knew, he had completely dismissed Killua's comment about Ging Freecss. Ging hadn't come to mind until that very moment his unofficial title as Gon's father blurted out.

"Wait—What do you mean by that?" Zushi asked, eyes wide. "Do you think—You don't think they're connected somehow, do you?"

"Wh-What do you mean by that?! " Gon squeaked, horrified. "We aren't related! "

Zushi rolled his eyes, pushing up from his stool. He rounded the drum set to say, "No, I mean—does Ikalgo know your dad? And how come you didn't know he existed?"

Gon blushed, glancing at Zushi's mothers. They looked at one another until Miss Umi pointed to Zushi and said, "It's not like he's adopted . Not that there's anything wrong with being adopted—!"

Zushi slapped a hand over his face as Gon squeaked, "I—! I mean, I am adopted, but by my aunt! I never met my dad before."

"And you met him just recently?" she asked.

"N-No! But Killua met him the other night," Gon explained, glancing back at Zushi, who's eyes narrowed, hands on his hips. Gon's blush engulfed his entire being. "Wh-Why are you looking at me like that? They didn't meet intentionally . But they had dinner together and—"

"He gets to meet your dad, has a key to your apartment, and you're telling me there's more to the story ?" Zushi said, an eyebrow quirked up. " Clearly he's your boyfriend."

"He isn't—!" Gon started, exasperated. He halted, however, at the look of damnation on Zushi's face, and the way Zushi's mothers gasped at the sheer drama of it. It was too late—he already confessed. "He doesn't want anyone to know that—" I'm going to hell aren't I? he thought. "Pretending to... date wasn't exactly the plan but it worked ."

"You're... pretending to date? " Zushi cried, alarmed. "H-How? What? Why, when, where, bitch? You only just met him this semester!"

"Ugh, I know. It's a mess!" Gon cried. He lowered his guitar down so the strap straightened from around his neck. He strummed a simple, bright chord as Zushi scratched at his hair, stubborn and annoyed.

"Okay, then give me a hint then," Zushi said.

Gon slapped his hands over the strings to mute them. He glanced back at Zushi with a raised eyebrow and said, "Like what?"

"Like... a song that resembles the situation?"

Gon thought about it for a moment. It made perfect sense, and he already had the melody on his fingertips. He looked down at the body of his electric guitar and started to strum the basic rhythm of a song his aunt used to play in the car during middle school shopping season, just before the semester started. It made him feel... the dread he felt now, faced with something inevitable like another year he didn't ask for to be spent in school.

Only now he was faced with another year with a roommate he didn't ask for, a childhood best friend come back from the dead, and his friends asking him " What the fuck? "

on sucked in a deep breath before breathing out the lyrics,

"' I thought I saw a man brought to life...

He was warm—he came around like he was dignified—

He showed me what it was to cry...!

Well he couldn't be that man I adored—!

Doesn't seem to know, doesn't seem to care

What his heart is for!

No I don't know him anymore! '"

Gon jumped with both feet into the chorus, and by the time he crash-landed on the concrete, Zushi was already back at his drums slamming into the beat. Gon all but yelled into the tee-ball microphone stand, singing, "' THERE'S NOTHING WHERE! WE USED TO LIE! '"

Since the Umi's garage door was open, he could see across the street that a couple walking there dog had paused to watch from a distance, and the fact that one of their neighbors was now sitting on their front stoop smoking a cigarette while listening to Gon and Zushi relive their grade school days via a Natalie Imbruglia rock cover.

"' Illusion never changed into something real—I'm wide awake and I can see the per-fect sky is torn! You're a little late—I'm already torn! '"

If all of San Francisco ceased motion and the ocean fell into silence, Killua still would not have heard Gon and Zushi's garage session through the sound of Gon's goddamn accordion jam sesh in his headphones.

He didn't work that night and could now be found tucked away in an alcove within the campus library. He sat in the fading sunlight with his feet kicked up on the window ledge and his headphones streaming the slow, ambient tempo of his recording with Gon. Gon's wild recording session had mellowed out over the several takes they made, which made it easier for Killua to pick apart a descent, consistent tempo to match with sound bites he already had on hand.

As he edited, he couldn't deny the crystal-clear visual he had in his head from the studio. Splicing together clips from the file simply cut and pasted images of Gon perched atop the stool, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. His cheeks puffed out from the way he pursed his lips in frustration, eye twitching, when Killua told him to do it all over again.

But the dedication to do it again and do it better cast a bright, explosive expression across Gon's face when Killua told him to move on to the verse. And, when their last full take was made, the way exhaustion swept over Gon could never trump the sweet, sugary taste of victory in Gon's voice when he said, " Did it really sound okay? I'm so glad you liked it! "

It took several vacant seconds before Killua realized that he had stopped working entirely and let the song go on in his headphones while he spaced out in the middle of the library. His brain was waterlogged with thoughts of Gon Freecss' dumb face.

Killua paused the track.

He stared out the window for five and a half seconds before coming to a dreadful conclusion: He only ever did that when he was seventeen, naïve, and listening to a playlist Kurapika had made specifically for him.

"Fuck," Killua said to nothing in particular.

No , he told himself, shaking his head. He wouldn't give into this. It was just a fleeting moment of weakness. He wasn't actually crushing on that idiot, was he?

The only way to test this theory was to psychoanalyze his time in the club from a new lens. It was easy for Killua to decide who he was and wasn't attracted to in the club—it was work, dammit, and he preferred getting cozy with someone who made his heart skip, just a little. He skimmed over the faces of nameless women from bachelorette parties to men who frequented the bar, any instance where he would have gravitated towards that person in an instant.

His heart skipped when he reimagined the rave, the night Gon stared up at him with childlike awe.

Killua slapped his hands over his face. Fuck , he thought, why did my heart skip just then?

They were roommates, dammit! His heart wasn't supposed to skip!

"Fuck it," he told himself, slapping his laptop closed. He decided that this feeling would disappear by sundown.

But then when he opened his backpack to fetch the packed dinner he stowed away, he held up a plastic container with his name on one of Gon's stupid post-it notes. It was from the selection of extra food Gon had made earlier in the week and left in the fridge for Killua, and his name was written like Gon was intentionally trying to harness the legibility of a doctor's handwriting.

And then he sat in the library while eating the food Gon prepared.

He pouted, cheeks puffed out and full of rice and chicken. " Fuck ," he seethed through the food, embarrassed and furious with himself. He'd be damned if he let Gon find out that he was caving.

But boy howdy, Natalie Imbruglia certainly had one thing to contribute to Killua's mess, and that was a dreadful realization Gon had after getting the song off his chest, and it came in the form of the bouquet Killua gave him.

The realization? That he wouldn't be getting a real bouquet from anyone anytime soon— especially Killua Zoldyck. This realization pushed against everything Gon had told himself when it came to his roommate: That Killua was unattainable and therefore deemed ugly, ratchet, and mean. But that just wasn't true. Killua was cold and coarse, sure, but he clearly had the potential to be so much more than that, and Gon saw it in little snippets from Kurapika. Kurapika wouldn't befriend a total asshole, would he?

And Killua was attractive. Deceiving himself of that under the pretense of unattainability made him dread the truth. The fact of the matter was that Gon Freecss would never have a chance with Killua, and the illusion of their fake relationship would never become something real.

Gon would never have a boyfriend who would get him flowers as long as he kept up this ruse with Killua.