Chapter Text
Gon was six when it first happened.
He had scraped his knee when he was playing on the garden stones, and when the blood welled up, it shimmered gold.
Not the dull red of mortals, not the fire-bright of gods—something between. Something forbidden.
His aunt held him close, pressing his small hands to her chest to still the glow.
“Never,” she whispered, voice shaking, “show this to anyone, Gon. Promise me. If they see, if they know—”
It was easier to accept a human, common and defenseless, than a halfblood.
The boy, with tears still streaming down his small face, nodded weakly. The woman smiled, wiping his face. But before he could ask why, the palace bells tolled. The Sacred Court had spoken: Ging Freecss, King of Stars, was being exiled for the crime of getting involved with a human.
Ging didn't turn around as Gon ran into the crowd, ignoring his aunt's cries. “Dad!”
The crowd paused, scrutinizing gazes watching him intently and making Gon feel small. “A Human.” It was just one person who spoke, but then suddenly, several repetitions of the same word were heard.
Human. Ging Freecss had a human son, a fruit of his forbidden connection with a mortal.
“ENOUGH!”
One of the court members exclaimed. Pariston Hill, with all his grace, walked through the crowd, walking up to the little boy, who shivered at the attention of such a divine being so close to him. It was... charming and yet so frightening.
He knelt down to the little boy's height, and looked at him closely, eyes with the kind look that anyone would accept as truth, but why did it seem like it was a facade?
“He's just a little boy. Let’s make a reunion. Let's come to an agreement so that this... flaw shall be taken care of." He decided, and looked at Gon. "And you will obey. Won't you, little one?"
Gon ignored him and clung to his aunt’s skirts, tears streaking his cheeks. “He’s my dad… he’ll come back for me, won’t he?”
Her silence was answer enough.
𝕏𝕏
The court had made an exception. Though Ging’s affair with a human broke the Law of Mortal Bonds, and concealing Gon violated the Law of Concealed Blood, the child was too young to have committed any crime. Some in the court argued: he is human-born, yes, but his divine blood is strong. He may yet serve the kingdom if raised with care.
So Gon stayed—cherished, watched, always a prince and never truly one. Every whisper reminded him: he was the bastard son of a disgraced king, golden-blooded, half-human, and a potential threat.
Ging never came.
At the age of six, when he first got hurt, Gon felt as if hell itself had swallowed him. Every cell in his body burned, pierced by invisible thorns, in agony that surpassed human understanding. It was pain and non-pain; it was something that went beyond the physical, beyond any limit he knew.
At sixteen, however, the pain was already familiar. although, that space was not. He had gone to sleep after a boring meeting. and now? His body floated in an abyss where weight did not exist, while his mind was lost in the vacuum of absolute, numbing and unchanging silence.
When his eyes hesitantly opened, all he saw was nothingness. An infinite space, filled only by darkness, not as an absence, but as a dominant, suffocating presence. It was as if his very existence had been erased, leaving him alone in the eternal void.
"What... is this?" he murmured, his voice a distant echo, swallowed up by the vastness that surrounded him.
It was then that something formed in the distance. A point of light, fragile and timid, emerging from the abyss. Yet, as he watched, the light grew slowly. The light pulsed, as if alive, calling to him in a rhythm that resonated deep within him. A frenzied voice inside him cries out. It calls out to him.
Gon began to walk, even without the ground to support him. Each step was involuntary, guided by a force he couldn't name, but which drew him inevitably. He felt something slipping away from him—his weight, his form, even his memories. What was left behind seemed insignificant compared to what awaited him.
The light enveloped him, warm and immense. It didn't burn; instead, it filled every empty space within him. It didn't hurt him,not anymore but it overflowed.
Gon gasped when he woke up, as if he had been drowning all this time.
Moonlight spilled through the window of Gon’s chamber, catching the mess of clothes and half-packed satchels. He shoved another shirt into his bag, shoulders tight with resolve.
The door creaked.
Leorio stood there, half in shadow, arms crossed. “You’re really going to do it, aren’t you?”
Gon startled, then squared his jaw. “I have to.”
“You don’t even know where he is—or what’s waiting for you outside those walls.”
“I’ll find him,” Gon said simply, his voice steady. It was a reckless certainty that made Leorio’s stomach knot—half pride, half fear.
Leorio sighed. “You’re impossible, kid. Fine. But if you’re going to throw yourself to the wolves, you’re not doing it alone. Someone’s got to keep you alive.”
Gon smiled—bright, like dawn breaking.
“You’re the best, leo!”
Leorio smiled and opened his arms for a hug, but hesitated at the last second. I'm just a royal guard, I shouldn't-
The moment was ruined by the crash of glass.
Gon had leapt from the window, bag slung over his shoulder, and hit the cobblestones with a sickening thud. Leorio’s heart lurched; Gon’s blood shimmered gold in the moonlight.
Leorio jumped after him, landing hard but whole, and gathered the boy in his arms. “Idiot prince,” he muttered, voice trembling.
Behind them, the shouts of palace guards rose. “Gon! Come back inside!” they cried.
Gon only managed a weak wave before slipping into unconsciousness.
So Leorio ran.
The forest loomed, tangled and endless. Each branch clawed at him, each shadow whispered dangers unseen. With Gon’s weight on his back, Leorio cursed himself with every step. What am I supposed to do with you?
A growl split the night. Wraith-Birds, wings jagged as broken glass, descended in a storm of shrieks.
Leorio dropped to one knee, pulling his blade while shielding Gon. “Not tonight, damn it—”
Gon stirred. His eyes snapped open, golden light flaring. He staggered to his feet, trembling, hand lifting as though he remembered some long-forbidden spell—
—but the air split first.
Scarlet eyes glowed in the darkness, followed by a figure cloaked in silver and shadow. A single strike scattered the Wraith-Birds into shards of dust.
Kurapika stepped into the clearing, sword gleaming like a fallen star. His gaze landed on Gon, sharp and unrelenting.
“You don’t belong here, prince,” he said, voice both warning and promise.