i joined tumblr a year ago, cuz i saw mapletineâs kitewing posts here :) THANK YOU for your support, i really appreciate it. i will create more and more pieces for this great community. yayayay!
to reach tomorrowâs horizonă»ă»ă»you wake in a new world, meet a companion who boosts your survival, and befriend him.
â pairing. hunter x hunter x gn.reader
â cw && tw. potential ooc
â wc. 2,171
. . . â notes .á ah yes, rui embarks upon their 103977th grand project, a supposed long series. one can only hope it will not be abandoned like the countless before, donât you agree ?
ah. is this what comes after death? if it is, it is nothing like you had imagined - the air is clean. almost refreshing, as though a gentle breeze has just brushed past your face.
you remain still, unmoving. there is no urgency within you, no immediate need to grasp at the questions that faintly begin to form. instead, you allow yourself this brief idleness - a rare moment of rest after the tiring, relentless struggle against your illness. though you had always known the outcome would not be in your favor, you donât regret refusing to surrender. not once, at that.
gradually, something shifts - a strange, unnamable yet familiar sensation begins to settle as awareness returns to your body. it arrives faintly, like echoes from afar, before slowly spreading through your limbs. though a lingering numbness remains, control follows soon after.
you pry your heavy eyelids open, despite the temptation to remain within that thoughtless, comforting void - only to be met with a sudden flood of brightness. the light stings, forcing your eyes to narrow as you instinctively raise a hand to shield them. blinking past the initial discomfort, you push yourself upright and take in your surroundings with growing clarity.
the void is gone. in its place lies a field of vivid green stretching beneath you, framed by trees that sway gently with the passing wind - the very source of that soft, unfamiliar air.
to say you are at a loss for words would be an understatement.
a quiet sense of awe swells within you, quickly followed by something deeper - something warmer. it builds, overwhelming in its gentleness, until tears gather at the edge of your vision and slip free - just that this time, they are not born of pain or exhaustion.
but of joy.
genuine, unrestrained joy.
more than that - you can stand. you can move. you can run, if you wish, across this open expanse with nothing to hold you back. no crutches, no wheelchair, no suffocating presence of tubes and stands trailing after you like a curse. only your own legs - steady, living, yours.
when was the last time you were granted the simple privilege of taking more than a few steps beyond the bed that had confined you for so, so long?
the thought alone is enough to stir you into motion - you quickly push yourself up onto unsteady legs, only to stumble at the very first step. it doesnât matter. you steady yourself once again with a breathless, almost disbelieving smile forming.
itâs alright. you can try again. and again, if needed.
you may have been pronounced dead, yet you sense this is your final dream before crossing to the other side of the world - perhaps it is a limbo, an inâbetween place. with nothing left to lose, you choose to wander freely, carrying only joy in your thoughts.
death has already claimed you, so none of it matters much now, if at all.
you lean against the nearest tree, your palm pressing into its rough bark, steadying your legs until they remember how to stand. the sensation, ordinary for others yet long denied to you, quickly becomes familiar. with that small victory, you begin to explore the land - a place nature seems to have nurtured with gentle care.
soon, you realize you stand within a forest atop a hill. when you look down toward its base, however, your breath stills - there are houses. hundreds - no, thousands - pressed closely together, stretching as far as your eyes can see. vast, yet suffocatingly dense, as though an entire metropolis had been compressed into something far too cramped and messy.
such a contrast - what you stand upon feels untouched by human hands; and yet, just below, lies the complete opposite.
just as you turn back to continue your wandering, quietly tucking those questions away for later, you collide with something - no, rather someone. an âowâ slips from your lips as you stagger slightly, your gaze lifting on instinct. there he stands before you - slim, almost gaunt, draped in an oversized blue coat, a familiar blue hat perched atop his head.
familiar?
âiâm sorry,â you blurt out, the thought still forming.
the boy narrows his eyes. âwho are you?â
âah- iâm [name]. sorry, i shouldâve watched where i was going,â you reply with a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. yet even as you speak, your gaze remains fixed on him - the gaunt frame, the oversized blue coat, the hat that feels. . strangely familiar.
too familiar for your own comfort.
âi havenât seen you around before,â he murmurs, more to himself than to you. âwhat are you doing up here?â
now that he asks, logic quickly catches up - waking up on a hilltop dressed in a patientâs gown doesnât exactly make any sense.
âiâm- uhm. . just getting some fresh air,â you answer at last. even to your own ears, the excuse sounds weak. âi just got discharged from the hospital.â
âthere isnât any hospital here,â he points out, raising an eyebrow, suspicion evident as he tilts his head. âand people certainly donât leave wearing that.â
â. . . itâs because iâm, uh. . an exception,â you attempt, forcing a nervous smile. âyeah, special case. but you really donât need to worry about that.â
that only seems to make things worse. if anything, his suspicion deepens.
âdid you run away from a hospital?â
âno- no! not like that, itâs-â you lift your hands in quick denial, only to falter mid-sentence. âjust. . . never mind.â
âmay i know your name?â you ask instead, deciding to drop the topic before he can dig any further - much to his visible. . . confusion might well be an understatement at this point.
but then comes an unexpected pause - one that exceeds the time one would normally take to answer such a simple question.
â. . . kite,â he answers at last, almost under his breath as if the question itself isnât one heâs used to. âmy nameâs kite.â
the moment the word settles, something in you drops.
your stomach sinks sharply, your jaw slackening despite yourself.
kite?
no. that canât be right. it cannot be.
yet, your eyes betray you. they drift back to him once more - this time slower, more deliberate, as though afraid to confirm what you already suspect. the hat, the coat, the pale hair, the sharp cut of his features. . each detail falls into place with unsettling precision, far too exact to be brushed off as mere coincidence.
that sense of familiarity from the very beginning twists deeper, tightening like something coiling within your gut.
. . . hunter x hunter.
but thatâs simply impossible.
it has to be.
anime is fiction - constructed and contained within a screen. it is not something that should exist like this, with real weight and presence, standing before you and speaking your name back to you.
and if it isnât real - then why are you here?
why is he here?
none of it follows any kind of logic. none of it makes sense. people do not simply wake up and find themselves in fictional worlds, no matter how often others may wish for it or insist otherwise. it simply does not happen, under any circumstances.
it should not happen.
before your mind can form a proper command, your body acts on its own. your hand lifts, fingers digging harshly into your arm, pinching with as much force as you can muster - an instinctive, almost desperate attempt to shatter whatever illusion this might be.
you barely register the way kiteâs gaze shifts, confusion flickering across his expression as he watches you.
but nothing breaks.
the sharp sting lingers, like a fly buzzing restlessly through your senses - so persistent, so undeniably real to dismiss.
this is not a dream - lucid or otherwise, it plainly isnât.
â. . what are you doing?â kiteâs firm voice cuts through, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts and dragging you back to your present reality.
only then do you realize - youâve completely lost your balance, now seated rather unceremoniously on the ground, stunned into stillness.
âi-iâm fine,â you answer quickly - a bit too quickly - as you try to steady yourself. even to your own ears, it sounds off. âjust- a headache. sorry.â
âyou didnât do anything wrong.â he continues, matter-of-factly. âso stop saying it.â
âi didnât mean to-â
âhere.â
kite lifts a hand toward you, grasping yours to pull you back onto your feet. the motion is firm, almost mechanical - stiff in a way that suggests unfamiliarity; and as soon as you regain your balance, his hand withdraws just as quickly, returning to his side as though the contact had never happened.
âthank you,â you murmur, blinking once, then twice, then a third time - as if your mind is still catching up with your body.
and then, silence - the kind that lingers. not quite uncomfortable, but empty enough to make you aware of it. neither of you speaks, and for a moment, you consider simply leaving it at that. turning away. continuing your wandering as if this encounter meant nothing more than chance.
but that would be. . unwise. verily, at that.
because as it stands, you have no idea where you are, no sense of direction, and no means of navigating whatever this place is on your own. and if your memory serves you right - if this really is the person you think it is - then the environment heâs familiar with is not one you could survive in alone; not after years confined to a bed, not with a body that has only just remembered how to stand.
your gaze flickers back to him.
if your assumption is correct, then he is far from an ordinary passerby. and whether you like it or not, that makes him the most reliable option you have.
you take a deep breath.
âyou seem kind,â you remark, your tone noticeably more measured this time. âcan we perhaps be. . friends?â
he seems to be caught off guard by that - his posture stiffening as his arms shift awkwardly at his sides, even stumbling back ever so slightly, as though unsure what to do with himself. you canât help but find it a little amusing; for a brief moment, he reminds you of those flustered characters in anime.
cute.
âfriends?â he repeats, uncertain, almost testing the word as it leaves his mouth - ironically mimicking what you had done earlier, blinking several times in disbelief.
you nod - the motion coming effortlessly, your expression settling into something almost innocent.
it is a simple gesture (deceptively so).
with kite - a child who has lived and survived here for what could be years - your chances of making it through this place increase significantly. you know your limits well enough by now; a body that has only just relearned how to stand is not one that can endure whatever this world demands on its own.
therefore, for now, this is enough.
enough to keep this fragile, newly granted life of yours intact.
as for the future. . .
that will be a problem for your future self to face.
â. . . okay?â he finally murmurs, the uncertainty still evident in his voice.
a brief pause follows before he speaks again - quieter, but steadier. there is a faint hint of what a child should be, peeking through at last, if not for the composed demeanor that keeps it mostly restrained.
âokay,â he exhales, a small smile tugging at his lips, a tiny spark flickering within his eyes.
âyay!â you beam, the word slipping out before you can stop it - not that you intend to - as you bounce lightly on your feet, a bright smile forming without restraint.
kite, meanwhile, looks. . . momentarily at a loss.
thereâs a brief flicker of confusion in his expression, as though he cannot quite process what just happened. despite the quiet sense of relief - or perhaps even contentment - settling somewhere within him at the thought of having a friend, something he had never once considered for himself before, he still finds himself questioning it.
why would you make that choice?
you donât look like you belong here. not in a place like this.
the thought lingers, but only for a moment.
because, in the end, he lets it go.
after all, he has spent far too long solely surviving - day after day, moment after moment, in a place that demands nothing less. perhaps. . just this once, he can afford to let himself accept something without questioning it to its core.
and besides -Â your smile is. . bright. warm. gentle in a way he isnât used to.
enough to softly replace the suspicion that had settled within him just moments ago.
yousharknotpass
blakekathryn
stormborns
vaporwave
titsay
