It had become a pattern.

A twisted, annoying little game Killua played every time the two of you ended up in a town, a market, or any place with actual people.

You never knew exactly when it would happen, but you always felt it coming—right before that smug little grin spread across his face.

“Come on, don’t be so shy,” he’d say.

And the next second—shove!

You stumbled right into some random person passing by, hands flying up to stop yourself from colliding face-first into their chest or knocking over a basket of fruit or whatever else Killua had decided to throw you into this time.

Today, it was a tall woman with a mountain of grocery bags.

You barely managed to catch yourself with a panicked apology, cheeks blazing with heat, while Killua cackled behind you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

you snapped as you yelled his name, whipping around.

He was already walking backward, hands behind his head, the very picture of innocence.

“What?” he said, feigning confusion. “I was helping you. You never talk to anyone. I’m just speeding up the process.”

“You get all serious all the time,” he said, quieter now. “And you keep your distance from everyone like you’re afraid they’ll look at you wrong.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“So… yeah,” he shrugged. “I push you into people. Make you trip in public. make you say awkward stuff out loud enough for everyone to hear.”