The first time Kairo laid eyes on him, he was covered in mud.
A small, wild creature darting through the forest barefoot, twigs stuck in his black, spiky hair, a huge grin plastered across his face. He couldn't have been older than two, maybe three. And yet, his laughter echoed like he had never once tasted fear.
> "Kairo! That's Gon! Say hi!"
Mito beamed from behind, waving at the boy's caretaker—her cousin Auntie Adele, who looked just as exhausted as Mito always did. Gon ran up with an insect in his hand, proud of whatever he'd caught. He held it out like a treasure.
> "LOOK!! It's a flying beetle!"
Kairo blinked at the creature, then at the child. Gon was reckless. Loud. His hands were covered in tiny scrapes, his knees permanently bruised. His eyes, however… they sparkled.
Not with intelligence, but with freedom.
Something Kairo hadn't known in either life.
> "Say hi, Kairo," Mito prompted, nudging him softly.
Kairo looked at Gon. "Hello."
One word. Measured. Neutral.
Gon just giggled and lunged forward, pulling him into a sudden tackle-hug that knocked both boys to the ground. Kairo didn't resist. But he didn't return it either.
> "Too close."
His instincts screamed. He hated being touched. Hated having someone this close to his face, this loud in his ear.
> "You're so quiet! Do you like bugs?"
Kairo stared at the beetle now crawling up his arm. "No."
Gon grinned wider. "That's okay! I like enough for both of us!"
A part of Kairo wanted to walk away.
Another part… didn't.
---
Over the next few weeks, Gon kept visiting. His energy never faded. He would burst into the house like a lightning bolt, dragging Kairo off into the woods, onto the beach, into the trees.
Kairo followed.
Silently.
Always watching.
At first, he told himself it was just to keep up the act. Blend in. Pretend to be a normal kid.
But slowly, something began to shift.
Gon's laughter wasn't irritating. It was… infectious.
Not in a childish way. But in a way that reminded Kairo of something he'd long buried: the joy of being alive.
---
Gon taught him how to fish.
Not with a rod. With a string tied to a stick and meat as bait. Kairo had already read five books on fishing, but he let Gon teach him anyway.
"See?" Gon explained, chest puffed, "You gotta feel the water!"
Kairo dropped the bait in. Closed his eyes. He didn't "feel" the water—he calculated the current, the fish's likely position, and the weight-to-resistance ratio.
He caught two fish in five minutes.
Gon stared, wide-eyed. "WHOA! You're a genius!"
Kairo looked away. He hated praise.
---
Nights were quieter. Mito would hum in the kitchen while preparing fish stew. Gon would fall asleep mid-sentence, snoring against the floor like a dropped log.
Kairo stayed awake.
He'd sit on the porch, gazing up at the stars, mapping constellations. Counting planets. Sometimes he'd hear Mito murmur his name fondly, her tone filled with a warmth he didn't fully understand.
> "They care about me. Why?"
He had been born with nothing. Given nothing. In his old life, emotions were dissected, studied, medicated.
Here?
They were simply… given.
---
One rainy afternoon, Gon tripped while climbing a tree and landed hard on the ground. A loud cry followed—a real one. Tears, blood, fear.
Auntie Adele screamed. Mito came running.
Kairo stood frozen.
Not in fear.
But in analysis.
> "Broken arm. Dislocated shoulder. Minor concussion likely. Treat with—"
He cut off the voice in his head. Instead, he ran forward, faster than he meant to. His movements were too precise, too calm.
He reached Gon's side and pressed two fingers gently against his temple. Then his wrist. The pulse was fast but steady.
"Call a doctor," he said to Mito. "Now."
She blinked. "Kairo… how did—?"
"Now."
She didn't argue.
---
Gon recovered after a week, his arm in a sling, his smile still somehow intact.
"You saved me!" he beamed.
Kairo didn't respond. He was too busy thinking.
"Why did I care?"
He could've let Gon fall. Could've let nature weed him out. It would've made survival easier in the long run. Gon was naïve. Reckless. Too kind for this world.
But…
Kairo remembered the fear in his eyes. The raw, human fear. Not fear of death—but fear of being alone.
> "I knew that fear once."
Maybe that's why he ran.
Maybe… he was changing.
---
One night, as Mito tucked them both into futons, she smiled softly. "You boys are like brothers already. It's sweet."
Gon was already snoring.
Kairo remained still.
> "I've never had a brother," he whispered to the darkness. "Not in either life."
A pause.
A long one.
Then, for the first time in weeks, he allowed himself a small smile.
> "But maybe… I do now."