Chapter Text
When he had started, it was mostly to pay his rent.
Because, as much as he loved the animal shelter, and his community tree-planting group, neither of those were actually earning him any money. His hours at the supermarket stacking shelves were always getting rescheduled, and even after working nights most weekdays, and every weekend, he was barely making enough to keep the lights on. It was a good thing Palm always invited him over for meals, otherwise Gon was sure he'd be dead by now.
Kurapika had suggested it, initially; finding work as a sitter – it was a lot less physical in the long run, and minimum rates were generally higher too. Kids were, he thought, a lot like being around the foxbear cubs again – wild balls of energy who vied for attention wherever they could get it. And the honest, simple look of a country boy was one parents had no problem trusting. It was a fun first few months – he joined an agency, cycled between a half dozen kids, and made a pretty good wage.
Suzie, Kolton, Zeffel, Izumi, Reina and Gordon.
Suzie liked her hair tied in exactly symmetrical pigtails, Kolton had a habit of sticking marbles up his nose, Zeffel cried non-stop for the first 3 days his parents left, Izumi spoke three different languages at home, Reina would put on a concert in the living room at least twice a day, and Gordon's best friend was his gerbil, Squisher.
All of them were fairly different, but sooner than not, Gon had befriended each and every one. He listened to them, indulged them – happy, playful, easy to understand. His reputation was good, and even the agency management were impressed with parent feedback; the glowing reports from couples who had otherwise rejected others wholeheartedly.
It was, then, nearly inevitable for the change.
It was full hours, every day of the week, for an exorbitant amount of money. They had wanted the best person in the agency's employ, and naturally, Gon had been the first choice. It had been hard leaving behind the other kids – saying goodbye properly, with runny noses and tears aplenty – but, it had been less of a choice on Gon's part, and more an insistence of both the agency and his new employer.
Which is how Gon found himself looking at one of the tallest apartment buildings he'd ever seen; classy and cutting-edge, artwork of steel and glass.
There was a security guard posted at the door, eyes shifting Gon's way as he scanned the apartment buzzers, looking for the corresponding number from his print-out of instructions. Apartment 99 was way at the end, only one floor down from the penthouse, apparently. The low tone crackled over the speaker as he pressed it, cutting off to an even lower voice.
“Yes?”
“I'm here about the job looking after, uh,” scanning the page again, “Zilsa Zoldyck?”
“You must be the new nanny; it is only your first day, but in future, please try to arrive on time.” Eyes to his watch, 8:03, three minutes late. “I'll let you in, and then run through your duties with you. Hopefully, you'll be up for the task; as this is not a job to be taken lightly.” Gon could feel himself bristling, but held himself back; if for no other reason than wanting to prove this jerk wrong.
Another low buzzer and the electric doors slid open, a peaceful foyer ahead. Waving to the security guard on his way in, Gon found himself in front of awaiting elevator doors, open and inviting. It was barely a second before he was in and moving, white light glowing for his destination, 99.
Whether his stomach dropped because of the movement or his belated nerves, he still wasn't quite sure.
In the incredibly quick half minute it took to get to the second-most top floor, Gon had already reconsidered the job 4 times, and was midway through the fifth, when the opening doors signalled the end of his journey. The cool air of the air conditioning gave him a slight reprieve before he found himself faced with an incredibly stern looking man; dark suit, dark eyes, and a very dark expression.
“You are Gon Freecss, correct? 24; living at unit 405, Zaban Street; birthday May 15th?” The quick fire questions were well practiced, the older clearly assessing for the slightest slip-up. Those dark eyes, watching carefully.
“My birthday is the 5th, actually.” Steeling himself, he didn't expect the other to withdraw with a smile; still assessing him, but a lot more thoughtfully than before.
“Good,” the other offered after another moment, “I am Gotoh, head butler to the Zoldyck family; please come this way.”
And for the first time since his arrival, Gon was aware of how expensive the place was. Not that it should have been a surprise; but it was a level of wealth Gon couldn't even have imagined before this point.
“Usually, the butlers are in charge of looking after the young Masters and Mistresses, but Master Killua - young Zilsa's father - has made it apparent that he is unhappy with our methods. Please keep in mind that you are here at his request,” turning to Gon, sleek and precise. “You are now in his employ.” The so act like it implicitly implied.
As they walked, he was a little afraid to touch anything, his fingerprints threatening to mar the perfect shine of cleanliness. And again, he reconsidered; this place was not for him – worried that somehow his breath was making the air less clean, his footsteps ruining the atmosphere. And God forbid he broke something; that'd probably leave his great-grandchildren in debt.
Gotoh was thorough in his explanations – demonstrating where everything was kept, when everything should be used – meals, naps, recreational time; nothing was left uncovered.
And once the butler had outlined everything he could about Zilsa's daily schedule, he led Gon to the final door; another stern look before opening it, a flickering intensity in his eyes.
“Young Master Zilsa is the most important person in Master Killua's life; it is imperative that he is happy and treated well. Those were his only instructions, so make sure to follow them with your life.”
And despite every other overwhelming thing that morning, happy was something Gon knew he could do. That no matter how wealthy, kids were kids; and kids liked Gon. It was something he appreciated being reminded of.
And when Gon was let into his room, he was sitting up in the small bed, expectant. Hair white, fluffy looking and probably soft to the touch; big eyes, a pale shade of mint, blinking between the stranger and the butler.
He was frowning a bit now, in the way only five-year-olds can; mouth puckered and pinched to the side, a small wrinkle in his brow. Small hand gripping at his blanket. Less angry, more unfamiliarly curious.
“Gotoh, who's that?”
Hand at his back and pushed a little farther into the room, he followed.
“His name is Gon, Young Master,” a softer tone than he'd had all morning. “Your father has asked him to look after you from today onwards.”
Seemingly happy with that, he just nodded his little head once; scooting a bit to face back to Gon. The pattern on his pyjamas folding and warping with the movement; a socked foot peeking out as he readjusted his position.
“So you're my friend now?” And the simple question felt heavy, heavier than any kindergartener should be able to achieve. Round green eyes, painted with hope. And the smile Gon found himself wearing was the softest he could remember – not as big as usual, but one that filled his heart to the brim.
“Yep. My name's Gon, what's yours?”
And the absolute delight that short sentence caused, the way he lit up in complete joy, grabbed somewhere deep in Gon's heart. Pushing out his doubts and reconsiderations, Gon knew he'd stay working here. Couldn't let the smile he was given ever fall away because of him. And it was with that in mind that he beamed back, encouraging; knowing that they'd get along.
“I'm Zilsa!”