Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10873443.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      Other
  Fandom:
      Hunter_X_Hunter
  Character:
      Gon_Freecs, Mito_Freecs, Unnamed_Female_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Pedophilia, Child_Abuse, Murder, all_that_fun_stuff, FUCK, this_fic_is,
      eugh, I_don't_know_if_I'm_into_it, but_i_wrote_it, SO, I_guess_it's_yours
      now
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-10 Words: 1304
****** Gon's first date ******
by Im_only_mildly_ashamed
Summary
     Based off mildly flimsy assertions related to implications of
     something Gon said one time:
     Mito discovers someone has been immeasurably cruel to her son.
     She reacts accordingly.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
“Gon is something wrong?”
At that, the short boy looked up at his adoptive mother.
He mumbled out a loose “no” shape and continued shifting the tarry red broth in
his bowl around, chunks of fish and potatoes surfacing and sinking as he did.
Mito placed her elbow on the table a little more stiffly than exactly needed.
“Gon. You are eight years old and you’ve never told one convincing lie.”
The boy did a small sort of half smile and paused his stirring.
He still wasn’t making eye contact.
Mito gentled her tone.
“So why not tell me what’s wrong up front?”
Gon swallowed.
“Do you…”
Gon stopped.
He’d started stirring again, more quickly now.
“Do you think I’m a bad person?”
Mito leaned back off the table.
“No.” she said.
Something was prickling at the back of her mind and throat.
Something was wrong, Gon still wasn’t looking at her.
“Why do you ask that Gon?”
The tempo of the boy’s stirring picked up even more, and the soup started to
form into a dark red whirlpool.
“I don’t… I... I feel kind of… like a bad person.”
Mito swallowed.
Why did that feel like swallowing glue?
And why did her mouth feel like a desert?
“I feel… sort of wrong.” He continued. “It... I feel… like there’s dirt inside
me?”
Gon swallowed as well, suffering his own similar sensations.
His skin itched like it was full of bugs.
“If that makes sense?” he finished.
Mito nodded.
“What-”
She stopped herself, she was asking the wrong question.
“Do you know why you feel that way?”
Gon swallowed again.
The soup was spinning dangerously close to spilling.
“I sort of… Do you remember what you told me?”
As Gon interrupted himself, he stopped stirring and looked up at Mito.
Soup splattered onto the table.
“What do mean exactly Gon? Be specific.”
Gon looked back down to the bowl and drew tiny figure eights in it with his
spoon.
“I’m sorry aunt Mito.”
Mito nodded sagely.
You wouldn’t be able to tell from under her crossed arms, but her hands were
shaking.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Gon, what’s wrong?”
Gon dropped the spoon into bowl and it clattered.
Gon began to speak very quickly.
“Well, I was out in town trying to sell some of my smaller fish but then this
older woman came up to me and asked if I could show her around town then I did
and she was laughing and seemed really amused but then I said that ‘thats about
it’ after I showed her the town hall, then she asked me ‘well what is your
favorite place’ and I thought about it and then I said ‘the lake’ and she asked
me to show her there and i did and once we got there she asked if I wanted to
swim and it seem kinda wierd but I thought it would be fine but then she got
too close and I wanted her to stop but she didn't and then it kept going and it
didn't feel good but it also-”
Gon was interrupted by a violent sob.
His violent sob.
The boy melted from the chair down into tight, squatting ball.
Mito circled around the table and hesitantly pat him on the back.
Only after the boy unfurled from his ball and wrapped his arms around her did
she embrace him as she’d wanted.
She hugged the boy tightly into her as if to hid him from the world.
“Did she hurt you?”
The boy sobbed harder.
She didn’t know if it was an answer.
The boy cried for what felt like hours, until his sobs became, quiet, rhythmic
breaths
Mito cradled the sleeping boy just the same.
She kissed his forehead and whispered quietly after laying him down.
“Those women are fanatics. And you don’t have to worry about them anymore.”
 
She was not hard to find.
A few discreet questions around town and Mito knew where that woman was
staying.
She was rich.
Of course she was.
She was easy to locate from her shrieked complaints about the noise, the smell,
the bed, the sea and on and on.
The innkeeper was an old friend of Mito’s, so she ask if she could try and talk
her down.
He shrugged.
“Be my guest”
 
The door creaked when she opened and then closed it.
The rich prattling woman turned to her.
“Oh thank god, finally some can clean this fucking mess.”
She was an ugly woman with worbeling cheeks and no chin at all.
Mito shook her head.
“No I’m here about my son.”
The woman almost turned to face her.
“”Your son-? Oh. The delicious tanned boy.”
The woman turned away from Mito.
“Yes, I rather enjoyed our time together.”
Then she sighed.
“Very well, how much do I owe you? If I don’t have it in pocket change I can
bring it along on my next trip.”
Mito would’ve liked to scream. Loud and long, including a million different
horrific words she never would have used anywhere else.
But it wasn’t too long from closing time.
So she needed to stall for time.
Now to guess how much money was completely unreasonable to whore one’s own
child out.
 
“Sorry, there’s just no way I can- hold on.”
Mito opened the door.
“Yeah?”
From the other side of the door, the large barkeep mumbled something the rich
woman couldn’t hear.
“Yeah, it’s no problem. We’re actually having a bit of a girls night in here.”
Answered Mito
More inaudible mumbling followed again by Mito.
“Oh, it’s no problem. Yeah, I’ve closed before, it’s fine.”
There was a doubtful grumble from the barkeep.
“I insist, Sharen will miss you.”
More grumbling, then the large man thundered away.
Mito turned back to the other woman.
They both paused.
The door to the outside clicked shut, locking the barkeep out.
Mito breathed a sigh of relief, then rolled up her sleeves.
“What are you-”
The rich woman didn’t have much time to speak.
Mito’s punch was swift and it leveled the older woman.
She collided with the ground in a painful thump.
She was halfway through crying out when Mito kicked her in the ribs, hard.
Guessing by the pained wheezes that followed, Mito’d kicked the air out of her
lungs.
She kicked the older woman again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again-
 
Eventually, the pained wheezing stopped.
Mito kicked her again.
She could feel the blood pooling in her shoe.
She kicked the old woman’s corpse again.
Her panting was desperate and her heartbeat painful.
Her ribs ached with the exertion.
Mito tried to steady her breathing.
She vomited.
The mound of flesh now lying on the floor was then covered with what used to be
her lunch.
Mito smeared the vomit still on her lips across the back of her arm.
Now for the hard part.
 
Clean up was a nightmare, the brownish combination of liquids in mess on the
floor, the two hundred pound corpse of a woman both made for a deadly mess.
The stains were a lengthy, hard fought battle, but Mito was able to scrub the
place clean.
The mound of flesh and bone Mito had kicked into a corpse had stopped leaking,
so transport was an option.
But where to?
Perhaps her petunias needed a boost.
 
Several weeks later, Mito received a letter in the mail.
No return address, it wasn’t even an addressed to her.
But the sloppy, looping handwriting was unmistakable.
 
Well done.
-G
 
Mito tossed his letter into the fire.
Her wine was bitter that night.
End Notes
     One thing I didn't mention at the time was that the reason Mito's
     shoe was full of blood is because one of her toenails cracked open.
     Fun.
     ALso fuck this was weird, and I'm really sorry if this was like an
     obviously cliche'd way yo present this.
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