Deep in the unexplored ocean (though not as deep as you'd think), miles from any dry land, sits a magnificent castle. It has a menacing air, a presence so strong it manages to pollute the air above with a chill on the hottest summer day, prompting even the most faithless sailors to whisper prayers under their breath when they pass. None of them can never fully understanding the cause of their sudden dread— Unexpected homesickness? Ghosts of the deceased reaching out to them from the depths? A premonition of death?— but the number of nonsense explanations uttered on a single ship could fill the sea.

If by some miracle a human did manage to find out the truth no one would ever believe their story. The grand arches, the iridescent color, the shimmering pearl bits embedded in the walls, the twisting fish and coral skeletons melded into hallways and vast rooms…the castle's very existence seems impossible in even the most extra-ordinary conditions, but it stood, a fluke of nature shining faintly in the dregs of sunlight that manage to travel deep enough into the ocean.

It'd be beautiful if not for the sense of danger that tints every corner. Even the currents drifting through the halls seem ominous in the dim light, and the absence of fish— or any other outside life for that matter— makes the large building seem suffocating in size. Today, though, today it seems a little brighter, and every one of its eight occupants can feel it down to the tips of their tails.

It's here. Finally Killua's birthday, his coming of age, has arrived. Today marks the hundredth and ninety-second full moon since his birth, and he can now ascend to the surface to eat his first human.

More importantly, he can finally see the humans for himself. No more fake stories from Milluki, no more cautionary tales from Grandpa Zeno, and no more disgusted observations from Illumi. Killua can see the truth now.

Alluka and Kalluto are jealous of course, but their brother doesn't extend much sympathy. Killua'd been in the same boat all his life, sulking in the garden every time Milluki or Illumi left since he was small, but today is his turn. He did his waiting, and Alluka only has a year left anyway. They'd survive.

(Killua does say a quick goodbye to his younger siblings, secretly promising to sneak Alluka finger or two before setting out to meet his grandfather at the edge of the castle garden.)

He keeps low to the ground as he swims, letting the plants tickle against his tail. The familiar feeling of seaweed is reassuring against his scales and skin, almost like they're brushing his nerves away, but once in a while a bone will jab uncomfortably against his stomach. It's those damn sirens, always tossing their filth in his garden. They waste their food, unlike the Zoldycks, and his father doesn't tolerate their presence anywhere near the castle. The sirens swear they're cousins, the same species, but Killua's dad loves pointing out it takes much more than a similar hunting style to be related.

"Their very structure is different," Silva'd argue to his son, a savage kind of joy taking over, "and besides using the same lure of an upper human half, there isn't really that much of a similarity between our hunting. You see, a siren will drag you down and let the water do their dirty work. Werip you limb from limb and devour in a matter of seconds."

Killua rises to meet his grandfather, and together they silently pass the edge of the garden, the fluorescent plants seeming to wave goodbye in the sea current. The castle's soon a blurry shadow in the distance, a distorted shape of home, but Killua can't really bring himself to care. He thinks it looks prettier far away.

Even going at their steady pace, they don't break the surface till late evening. Killua tries not to show how disappointed he is at the strange clash of yellow and orange in the sky instead of the bright blue he expected to greet him, or how uncomfortable he finds it having to consciously breath out of his mouth rather than his gills. And how he's supposed to stay above water while his tail drags him down is beyond him. He's probably inhaled half the sea in his last five breaths alone.

"There." Grandpa Zeno points west towards a looming shadow, showing no signs of the discomfort Killua feels. His powerful tail effortlessly supports him, almost lazy in the way it flicks back and forth. "Head for the ship and wait for the storm. Get your prey— just one for your first time— and leave. Don't linger. Don't take seconds. Leave."

Killua frowns (I've been waiting for this since I was three and I only get one!?) but nods. It'd do him no good to argue. His grandpa would sooner drag him back home than hear him out, favorite grandkid or not, and despite his discomfort, he's in no hurry to leave the lukewarm sunlight left over from the daytime. Besides, there's no way he's endangering this opportunity.

"Most of the sailors will be drunk by then, so it shouldn't be too hard to go unnoticed." His grandpa's eyes flicker to Killua's white hair glowing even in the fading sun. "Just remember silence is key. No one but your prey is to see you. If stories of the Zoldycks start back up again…"

Zeno's warning glance makes Killua shiver despite himself.

They submerge, Zeno offering his grandson a supporting tap on the tail, before they set off on their separate paths.

The first thing Killua notices once he resurfaces near the boat is the stench of alcohol and smoke. It makes him crinkle his nose in disgust and nearly dive back under the water to escape, but he forces himself to wait it out until he adjusts. Laughter drifts across the sea, some of the more obnoxious chuckles grating on his nerves, and there's a strange, melodic screech that's… actually quite pleasant.

What is that? he wonders, approaching the side cautiously. Killua looks up, slightly intimidated by the sheer size of the human's creation. How many of them did it take to make this? How long did it take to seal the wooden boards together, enable such a large, bulky thing to hold so much and still float on water? How did they even come up with such a monstrosity?

Tentatively he reaches out to touch the wood, running his palm over it and marveling at the strange patches of roughness under his palm. He jumps when the melodic screech soars in volume, swelling into dizzying sound that makes the Zoldyck feel impractically giddy. What are the humans doing to produce that amazing sound?

Killua makes a snap decision, unsheathing his claws and digging them deep into the ship's side before he can talk himself out of it.

Zoldycks are strong creatures, but Killua finds it's incredibly difficult to climb up the side of the ship, especially since he's lacking legs. His tail hangs uselessly in the air, the wood scraping his scales, and his claws keep getting caught in between splitters. Then there's the smell. Ugh! The last half of his journey is done with as little breathing as he can manage, which only slows him down all the more by the time he's finally able to drag himself the final few inches to peer onto the deck night is setting in, and he's beginning to wonder if seeing these humans is worth all the trouble.

Then he takes a breath, and it's all he can do to keep his grip on the ship.

Human stench stabs strongly at his tongue. Piss, disease, alcohol, tobacco…it all rolls over him at once in a wave, gagging him with its potent presence. And he's supposed to eat this? Rotting fish smell better than this out right filth!

But then the second wave drifts over, covering the first unforgiving scent and carrying something Killua has never smelled before. Rich soil and fresh saplings and springing flowers, undeniable life that flows so smoothly compared different to the ocean's chaotic motion of currents and undertows. Even the stuff he's managed to swipe from long sunken ships had never smelled this good, this alive.

It's a party in full swing. Sailors are laughing as they swap stories, turning blue in the face from an intense enjoyment Killua didn't think was possible. Some are dancing to the musical screech coming from an oddly-shaped wooden box with strings, clapping in unison as they stomp gracefully around each other in organized steps. Others stumble over their feet as they down another bottle, barely managing to stay on board.

"Happy birthday, Prince Kurapika!" Large booms echo as colors suddenly burst in the sky, and cheers rise up from the boat, prompting more explosions that take Killua's breath away.

Envy hits him hard in the chest, nearly doubling him over with its intensity. How?! How can they be this…amazing? He wants to join them, to laugh like that. Wants to experience the things leaving such an amazing mark on them. He wants to learn that dance. Hell, he wants to be able to dance.

Killua's tail smacks the side of the boat in a bitter reminder of what exactly is separating him and the humans.

Focus, he scolds, sense flooding back to him. The scent of rain is strong now. His first meal will be starting soon. A distracted Zoldyck is a noticed Zoldyck, and Killua doesn't fancy finding out what his dad would do if the humans started talking again.

Killua follows everyone's eyes to a small group of three people at the center of the ship surrounded by clapping sailors. The one in the middle looks flustered, smiling uneasily while his two companions laugh and jostle him good-naturedly. His hair reminds Killua of the gold he's found in sunken ships, and his clothes are the most well-made on the ship.

Must be the prince.

One of his companions, some old guy in a suit, thumps the prince on the back, nearly knocking the poor man off his feet as he chuckles madly at a bad joke. His checks are flushed red with intoxication, and he has a dopey look on his face that Killua decides may just be his normal expression.

The drunkard leans heavily onto a much shorter boy with insanely spiky hair, almost collapsing when he tries to take a step. The boy— Killua thinks his name is Gon if the old man's to be believed in his state— shares a smile with the prince as he helps hold the old man steady, holding the bulk of him effortlessly.

A gust of wind sweeps over the party, jerking the sails. Killua can easily taste the storm nearly a mile away, but the sailors barely bat an eye.

He sees Gon tense as the gust hits him and look out to sea for a minute, body rigid. Can he tell the storm is coming? Killua studies Gon as he carefully sniffs the air, his eyes flashing in understanding. It looks like he's my age. That's nowhere near experienced enough for a human to be able to read the sea so easily.

Gon turns to the prince and says something Killua can't hear, but Kurapika's face slips out of its small grin and into a concerned frown. They snap into immediate action, the prince setting off with the boy close at his heels, signaling for the sailors around him to take down the sails.

The first crack of thunder comes before half the sailors are even close to doing something remotely productive. Killua lets himself fall off the side of the boat, grinning as he's surrounded once more by swirling water. He loves when the sea gets temperamental; it's such a nice change.

The first body, some skinny guy with a bandana, hits the water almost immediately, but Killua lets that sailor drown. He just doesn't lookappetizing like some of the other, more filled-out humans. Killua wants his first meal to be a good one.

(And if he felt a small stab of sadness when that unbelievable scent was washed away by the ocean…well, that's his business.)

Killua settles for a fat guy with a squashed nose. It fills him up and he manages to save a finger for Alluka. Taste though…not as good as he heard it'd be. And the blood... this is kind of annoying. Troublesome. In fact, the whole experience is uncomfortable. It isn't like the fish he ate at home. This food fights even when it should by all accounts be dead, and it's really disconcerting to be eating body parts he also has. Is this what his diet will be for the rest of his life? He can't stop his lip from curling in disgust or the sickening lurch in his stomach the next time he sees a human.

And to think he'd thought he'd want seconds.

Between the winds and the sea, the ship hadn't had much of a fighting chance even if half her crew wasn't intoxicated. It doesn't take long for the mast to splinter under the strain, but the rocks are what actually finish it off. Killua resurfaces in time to watch it crack in half and slowly sink into the sea with a pitiful groan. A small, desperate lifeboat is managing to stay upright nearby, but he doesn't put much stalk in its survival with this kind of weather.

He turns to head back, vaguely confused at the hollow hunger in his gut (how has such a huge human not fill him?!), when the sudden movement of what he thought was just another dead sailor buoying to the surface nearly kicks him in the face.

It's that human from before, that spiky-haired boy, swimming powerfully towards the surface.

Killua watches idly from below as Gon breaks the surface—maybe even manages to get in one gulp of air, it's hard to say from Killua's angle—but the waves quickly shove him down. The conflicting currents smash into his body, sending him tumbling every which way and most likely fatally disorienting him. By the time the boy regains a small sense of direction, he's been swept at least ten yards away from his original spot.

But the amazing thing is Gon keeps going. Again and again, he fights towards the surface, always managing to swim up not matter how badly he's turned around, only to be slammed back down into the water. Killua just stares, impressed and a little amused, as the ocean easily squashes the human's struggle. He can see him loosing steam; it's only a matter of time until his arms give out.

Killua will let Gon drown, and he will lose little sleep over the matter.

On his next desperate struggle to get above water, twisting madly in his search for the surface, Gon sees Killua's outline hovering on the lower edge of his blurred vision. A vague, human shape that could possibly be a corpse already swelling in the salt, but it doesn't matter. They could be alive. Dead or not, it could be one of his friends.

Changing his course, Gon dives down instead of up, taking Killua by surprise as he propels towards him. Curious, Killua lets the boy grab him around the waist and drag him up with him towards the surface.

It's kind of sad, really, watching the human struggle just for the sake of "saving" Killua. He's not even warm anymore, his body heat robbed by the water, and this will undoubtably be his last struggle.

Pity prompts Killua to leave (without the added weight the boy might have another chance), but when he moves even the slightest bit to get out of Gon's embrace, the boy squeezes tighter, and Killua can almost feel his muscles working overtime to handle the strain of two people.

What is with this guy?

Gon's strength gives out barely a foot from the surface, and the Zolyck can't help but offer a quick, pitiful swish of his tail to finish the journey. The human gasps obnoxiously in Killua's ear and tightens his hold around the Zoldyck, and it takes Killua by surprise how tightly he clings, nearly sending them back underwater. Gon shakes the water from his face and looks at Killua with squinted brown eyes, practically beaming as one of the worst storms of the decade rages around them. It's open and warm and everything that isn't the sea.

"Glad you're o—"

A wave wrenches Gon's weak grip from Killua's body and would have shoved the weary boy to his grave if Killua hadn't grabbed him with a startled shout. And of course it's just his luck a piece of broken wood from the ship manages to smack Gon in the face (and also nick Killua in the back of the head), successfully knocking him out and leaving the Zoldyck with a useless body he's in no mood to eat. One fat guy is enough for him, thank you. For a lifetime.

(His stomach still hurts.)

So he brings Gonna to shore. Killua's not really sure what else to do. Letting him go to drown just seems…wrong. Yeah, yeah, sailors are dying around him, but this is different! Killua never made a move to help them. Now that he's saved Gon, letting him die is cruel, a deliberate action made out of an indifference that reminds Killua of his eldest brother, and Killua refuses to be like him even remotely like him, a monster that slaughters a whole settlement near the sea just for the fun of it.

It's slow, painful work (Killua's lungs are on fire from staying above water so long) and he nearly drowns Gon many times in the process, but they manage to get to the closest landmass by dawn. Killua goes as far inland as he can with his tail, stopping when the sand grates uncomfortably against his stomach and dropping the human unceremoniously onto the ground.

Killua makes sure Gon's mouth and nose are clear of the water before he flops down himself, panting. His tail is sorer than it's ever been, but he feels satisfied somehow. The hollow hunger in his gut's somehow sated for now ( at least ignorable), and all he wants to do is fall asleep in the dawning sun.

Gon yawns in his sleep, revealing a missing tooth on the left next to his front teeth. There's a dark bruise taking up most of his right check from the board, but the boy looks peaceful. He'll wake up within the hour, probably take a moment to appreciate his luck (Killua knows the boy'll never suspect what actually happened, the closest conclusion he'll come to some kind of gold-hearted siren) and head home.

Killua pictures Gon's house to be somewhere deep in greenery farther on shore, tucked away from other houses and surrounded by the scent life that still clings to his waterlogged body. He probably doesn't live alone, so his mom and dad'll be waiting for him. Maybe a grandma or grandpa too? A lover? The whole house'll definitely be warm, not like the cold water that occupies Killua's own residence, and the plants that surround his house are probably bright and open, not dull and brittle like the Zoldyck's garden. Maybe there'll be a fresh meal, one that doesn't fight back when he bites into it.

And there's that pang of envy again.

What do I have to be jealous of? he fumes. I'm not this fragile! My tooth would grow back. My skin wouldn't be this scratched up. I wouldn't need rescuing.

And yet the little green monster in his chest won't shut up.

A loud groan freezes Killua, and his blood practically runs cold when he sees the boy start to shift. Gon's waking up!?

The Zoldyck leaps into action, jerking up and shoving his hands deep into the sand to propel himself out towards the water, but he's too far in. His tail barely budges in the heavy, wet sand. There's no way he can get in the water fast enough to avoid being seen.

So Killua stops short and tenses his arms, watching carefully as the human's eyes slowly flutter open. He watches in panicked amusement as confusion overtakes Gon's young features, soon replaced with pain as he sits up and looks around, finally catching sight of the Zoldyck sitting next to him.

"Hey—"

Killua's hand shoots out lightening fast, hitting the back of Gon's neck and knocking him out. At least he hopes he knocked him out. The sweet spot for killing and the sweet spot for knocking a human unconscious always get mixed up in his head.

Oh! No, he hears breathing. It's all good.

The Zoldyck slides carefully back into the sea as fast as he can, mindful of the sand grating his stomach and the laughter he catches in the distance. The moment he's far enough in the water he submerges, retreating behind the rocks close by to watch a group strolling down the beach gradually revealed in the morning mist.

The only woman in the group, a sickly pale thing with crazy black hair, spots Gon first. "Hey! Are you okay?"

She takes in the bruising and cuts and missing tooth before scooping the boy up, running surrounded by her confused friends to wherever human's go to heal. Milluki said they had some kind of special building that can hold thousands of them. Killua figured the special building had to be at least as big as his house to hold all the family and friends that would surround the wounded human. He heard humans are close like that.

Does he…Gon have a lot of friends?

Killua lingers for a few moments before descending. Somehow the water that rushes over his gills doesn't bring the relief he wants.