You crouched low in the underbrush, heart thudding louder than it should.

The forest was quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds overhead. Gon and Palm sat together in a clearing, dappled sunlight falling across their shoulders like a spotlight you wished you could dim.

Palm laughed.

Again.

And you flinched.

You knew the truth—this wasn’t a real date. Gon had agreed to it out of obligation, a peace offering after the loss to Knuckle and Shoot, and the temporary loss of his Nen. He was vulnerable. And Palm, unpredictable as ever, had demanded this moment of closeness as compensation.

Still… it hurt.

You repeated the same line in your head like a mantra: You’re just watching over him. You’re not a stalker.

But the longer you stayed hidden, the less convincing it sounded.

Killua was somewhere nearby, tucked behind a tree on the opposite side of the clearing. You’d caught glimpses of his spiky hair and narrowed eyes, always alert, always ready. He was here for the same reason—or so you told yourself. To protect Gon. To make sure Palm didn’t go too far.

But you weren’t sure anymore.

Because every time Gon smiled at her, even politely, even awkwardly, something inside you twisted.

You wanted to be the one sitting beside him.

You wanted to be the one making him laugh.

And yet, here you were—watching, waiting, aching.

You could leave.

Killua would handle it. He was sharp, fast, capable. Gon wouldn’t be alone.

But your feet didn’t move.

Because even if it hurt, even if your chest felt tight and your thoughts were loud, you couldn’t walk away. Not while Gon was still out there, vulnerable and unaware of how much you cared.

So you stayed.

Hidden.

Silent.

Hoping the date would end soon.

Before your heart gave out.