Green Is Your Color||KilluaxGon

[Epilogue] Moonlight

shoutout to my biggest supporters: ShouldDieNo1 kittymaster111

The year passed by quickly, though it didn't really feel much like it. Killua's time in Seattle was better spent participating in things he probably shouldn't have; but then again, that's high school. He found that his relationship with his father never really had to be this tainted. The less he talked to him, the less they had to argue over. It was quite a revelation.

Killua's father was adamant on having him stay in Seattle and attend Washington State (especially considering he'd gotten a full-ride), but Killua refused. His sights were set on bigger, grander things.

"Dad, I want to go back to California." Killua said bluntly at the silent dinner table in their grand apartment.

It was July 7th again—a year after everything—and he was finally 18. His birthday had no joy or special moments, and he was overflowing with melancholia about the decisions he had yet to make. He stared blankly at the dull dinner he was consuming—on a day that was meant to be filled with joy—and didn't pay much mind to his father's cease in movement.

"What makes you want to go back?" Silva inquired, returning to his dinner.

"I think you know the answer to that."

"You're still head over heels for a boy you've barely known." Silva sighed and shook his head. "And barely talked to this past year, given I've taken your electronics every day after school."

"Yeah, well," Killua sucked in a breath, sitting upward and looking him in the eye. He flashed a sarcastic smile. "It's not your business anyway."

"Killua, you're teenagers. I contacted his father; says he's moved on, found some nice, Christian girl to date throughout college. You were only a phase for him. You should move on the same."

Killua sniffed, twisting his lips as he put down his fork and maintained eye contact. "I want to go back to California."

"You're incredibly immature for a seventeen year old."

"I'm eighteen, Dad." Killua corrected. "And as a birthday present, I'd like for you to buy me a plane ticket home."

"I won't do that, Killua. You're going to attend Washington State."

"I will do no such thing."

"Are you challenging my authority?"

"I'm eighteen, I can do what I please."

"Not while you're living under this roof, you're not."

"I was kind of hoping you'd say that." Killua let out a small scoff. "My bags are packed in the other room, which you'd have noticed months ago had you ever paid attention to me—genuinely. I'm leaving. I'm going home."

"What home, Killua? Your mother doesn't want you back."

"Believe me, home is not where you or my mother resides."

"Well, you can't go off living with the neighbor and his aunt. I'd have to call the police on account of kidnapping."

"And you'd be harshly reminded that 911 is for emergency services only. An eighteen year old willingly moving in with the neighbors is far from kidnapping."

"We have money and influence, something the neighbors lack."

"Well, then, it's a good thing I never planned on living there in the first place."

Silence settled some more, the two sitting tensely across from one another. Silva's attempts at intimidating his son were shot down by Killua's empty stare. The days of him torturing Killua mentally were over. He'd grown up.