A/N First of all I have to apologize to those who red and enjoyed the previous version of the story. I've changed it and a lot. But I simply had to do that 'cause only now have I red manga and it quite differs from anime, so, I had to add a lot of info about Yoites background. Well, maybe it was done in vain, but I just felt like doing that.

And here it is, ONEGAISHIMAS'!;)

Oh, and of course, a disclaimer - I do not own any of intellectual property related to Nabari no Ou (characters, plot or any other stuff)

The Traveler.

He's already used to this. Accustomed to eternal loneliness. Kind of solitary inseparable from the very life itself. And he even has no intention to grieve, 'cause, honestly speaking, such feelings are scarcely his dish. He simply has never felt anything like that. Or maybe . . .

Yes, from the mind's abysmal depths some distant already partly faded scenes of childhood flow to the surface of consciousness.

People have feared him as well as loathed for the reasons he'd never known neither understood. DEATH GOD! Use to scream his father. MONSTER! Use to whisper villagers. And this unexplainable fright mixed up with hatred eventually drew him down in the basement, where the only way to reach the world outside was through a small barred window, which was placed so high that is was barely possible to reach it even when stepping on a big desk moved up to the wall. Let's make it like you never existed from the beginning. Was the last thing ever his so-called father had said. And that was that.

By large wooden table days turned into months till blended into years. This timeworn peace of furniture was like totem with its carved writings and signs created by the little prisoner as well as some folk before him. Sitting there reading or working out equations he always used to engrave small figures or symbols observed somewhere between the pages of thousands of books which was the only link connecting Yoite with the outside world. Yoite could almost see himself back in those days, now seemingly unreal created by his own immured mind and suppressed feelings.

Gazing through the time and space he watches a small boyish kid holding on to rigid peaces of metal while staring into pair of dark brown eyes always sparkling with joy. These eyes belong to Yoites brother. Well, at least that is what Tsukasa kept on telling. Supposedly Tsukasa Koudou had to be his younger sibling though nobody could have guessed that, 'cause Sora looked well under his age and always got taken for latest. Yes . . . Sora . . .

NO! THERE WAS NO SORA! SORA NEVER EXISTED!

But what was THAT in the basement then?

Yoite shook off another panic attack. He gets those whenever he thinks of Sora. Instead he tries to concentrate on those distant memories of Tsukasa who did not turn his back on the brother even despite hysteric warnings of their parents or whoever they were.

Almost each and every day, he came to visit Yoite. On those occasions brother laid down on the dusty ground right outside the little window and told stories about the pulsing life outside. Those were tall tales of courtyard, streets and all around the world heard, seen or red. He was telling of things Yoite had never seen before or felt for that matter. Those brown eyes twinkled with such brightness, that it seemed to lighten up the whole dark room with its low ceilings. They became like sunlight to him.

Unfortunately they had to stay on different sides of the bars, 'cause last time Koudou took the key from his father, so, that both of them could play in the small garden behind the house it did not end very well. Namely, it ended with the person in charge so to say screaming: "That's a ghost! Don't interact with that child otherwise I'll make sure you never existed too!" Well, and that was enough for both of them. Yoite would have rather chopped his head of then allow Tsukasa to get hurt, so, they agreed to play by certain rules and stick to talking - listening kind of entertainment.

And so they did. Tsukasa spoke and Yoite listened. Listened in so carefully and with such intent that he wouldn't even make a sound. He simply was too scared to do that. Talking of his might make the brother disappear like it had happened with their parents, who vanished even before Yoite started to comprehend who's who. And all what was left was this panicky man with high pitched voice who kept on repeating: "MOTHER DIED BECAUSE YOU WERE BORN. DEATH GOD! IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU SHE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!"

That was how Yoite learned of his terrible sin. A sin he committed even before the knowledge of what "mother" or "sin" means. And he had to live with that. Yoite had to put up with the name of a sinner a murderer a monster. That's just how it has always been.

Everybody feared him. Everyone avoided him. That's why he remained silent and did not even move. All he did was hold onto bars of the window listen and try to imagine every little thing described by the young boy on the other side. He didn't know and he still does not know is what he imagined right, because back then he didn't have a chance to compare his dreams to reality, though now, when Yoite existed in this very reality there was no one to tell him, does both coincide. But Yoite would not even ask. That was a matter of no importance now.

Yoite quietly sighs and sips a bit of lemonade made by Yukimi. Yes . . . Yukimi . . . They have been sharing this apartment for how long now? It could be a year or so. Or maybe more. Seems like an eternity. How did he even get here? Ah, right . . .

Then came that unfaithful day when god knows why Yoite found himself blundering along the corridor of a hospital with a pulsing badly bleeding wound in his neck. There were all of those people. Monster! They murmured when he approached. Yoite wanted to scream, but blood oozing down his throat would not allow that. At the end he glided down the wall till collapsed on the floor. Through the blur he noticed someone coming nearer. And that someone was holding a knife. Shiny blade was smeared with red. A pure terror raged inside of him. Probably the man was here to kill him. And then happened something he wouldn't have expected at all.

It was Tsukasa. He came closer and stood right beside the man with the knife unexplainable anger boiling somewhere behind his cloudy eyes.

- Here you go, now you do it, - said the man and handed the knife to Tsukasa.

Boy took it but stood still just watching Yoite who stared back with as much quandary as there could be considering he was already half conscious out of the blood loss. And when the victim thought that his last moment has come Tsukasa threw the blade on the ground obviously choosing not to hurt his brother. There was a moment of standstill and then Yoite run. Scraped to his feet and run. Run like there was no tomorrow. And probably there would have been none if it would have not been for Toujuurou Hattori.

Man found Yoite lying on a street in the middle of a huge blood pool partly covered with red snow. People were standing around him in circle looking at each other and waiting for someone to be the first to take action, but nobody would. And so Hattori san picked him up and brought to Kairoushuu's medical care center, where Yoite woke up a couple of days later.

Yoite remembers the awakening. The first sensation of his was that he's still in the hospital filled with those who wanted to kill him. So he tried to run, but wards door turned out to be locked what made thing only worse. Unimaginably scared Yoite looked for a window, but there seemed to be none. He felt imprisoned which was nothing new for him only this was an unfamiliar place and he had this feeling of being watched. Somebody was at the door. Yoite panicked. The door opened. He needed a place to hide, so, the small boy jumped behind the green plastic curtain separating the bed from the rest of the room.

While standing behind his cover and trying not to breathe Yoite felt the approach. He felt his insides churn and then somebody took his volatile shield away. Should he attack? But he was taken aback by the bright and smiley face of an intruder. Young Kazuho beamed like a star ready to explode.

- Oh, so you're feeling better already! Grate! I was really worried you know. Oh, my god, when the leader showed up with you in his hands bleeding all over I was like so shocked. Jesus! It's so good you recovered. We actually weren't sure you will, so . . . blah, blah, blah . . .

Yoite could not hear her anymore. All the meaningless words blended into a noise. He wasn't accustomed to someone talking so much and so quickly. He closed his eyes and waited for nausea to wear off.

When he opened them once again chatty blonde was gone and now instead of her there was a middle aged man with a grey hair and small goatee leaning against the doorpost. Yoite flinched and hid behind the curtains again.

- Don't be afraid, - came a calm and patient voice, - I am not going to hurt you.

That sounded rather good, but what if it's a lie? Yoite tugged the curtains a bit. With only half of his face uncovered little Yoite scanned the man. He couldn't quite grasp what to think of him.

- I understand that you are scared, but it's going to be allright. My name is Toujuurou Hattori and I am a leader of Kairoushuh, an organization existing in the world of Nabari. Do you know what I am talking about?

Yoite stood there still puzzled, but slowly in front of his minds eye appeared pages from a certain book he had red back in the days. Who knows where Tsukasa got it from but Yoite was sure as hell that it wasn't library. It was a book about a parallel reality, namely another world which existed side by side with ours or the Front world how the author named it. It was a world of ninjas and jutsus, mysteries and secrets, swords and fights. Yoite loved the book back then, but now when he was presented with a person who seemingly was one from that side, he did not feel delighted at all. So, he just kept watching the older man.

- Ok, I understand, - the man said like drawing a conclusion from Yoites inner monologue. - Well, from now on I offer you to join our organization and I will help you to accomplish whatever that is you want.

Nobody had ever asked Yoite what it is he wishes for and actually he had never desired anything 'cause he simply had never been presented with possibilities to choose from, but one thing Yoite knew better than how much is two times two. And that was the fact that nobody wanted him here. No one wanted him to exist at all. From the very beginning.

- I want to erase my existence, - came his quiet and sort of alienated voice.

The man still standing in the doorframe took Yoites measure and after a small while replied:

- I will give you erasure as close to your wish as possible.

- Really? - Yoite called out all of a sudden.

- Of course, - the man gave a way to a tiny smile like expression, - but before that you have to do something for me.

And that's how their pact was concluded.

For a couple of days Yoite stayed in the very same hospital ward. Each and every day the same gabby blonde came and accompanied him to all sorts of examinations. They checked his height, weight, blood pressure, bone structure and the condition of his internal organs. And only now Yoite started to comprehend why everyone he use to know considered him a monster. All these tests uncovered Yoites greatest peculiarity. Namely, he was a neuter being or sexless if you wish. Basically he is neither male or female.

Well, it's not like Yoite cared. He had never planned to have a family or something. He shouldn't have been here in the first place. And when his existence will be erased everything will fall into places. But before that apparently he had to do something for Hattori san and this guinea-pig deal was obviously a part of it. So, Yoite clenched his teeth and went along with it.

But it wasn't long before the leader returned for Yoite. And as he said it was time to make himself useful.

By leaders beige limousine they reached a house way outside the town. It was a house placed in the middle of a garden as big as a wood which segregated the inhabitants from each and every disturbance possible. And this was the place where Yoite spent the oncoming months of tuition. Scrolls and pergaments books and papers fallowed by harsh physical quests. And he never, not even once failed to do what was expected of him. He simply wasn't capable of unfulfilling the task. Oh, yes, he was very good at executing commands.

Back then the combination of sounds did not carry any meaning at all for Yoite and he would not have imagined that very soon it will become his life his sole being. This name was KIRA or destructional hatred used as a weapon which rammed into those living creatures placed in front of him. The forbidden art of KIRA or Iga's "Kira" Kinjutsu mastered by Yoite was the thing promised to erase his existence once and for all.

Oh, dear god, how can one be so naive? Young assassin questions himself now. But then again, he did not know a shit about life back in those days and that's how it came to this.

In no time tuition brought him the most horrid exterminator's reputation. And well deserved it was, indeed. Incredibly fast Yoite grew to injure and kill his prays by embodying a peace of his own "ki" into the opponent and after that destroying both all together. Nobody would go against him and the power of KIRA, even a few of those who could have, chose not to and quickly got out of the sight. Eventually even his own people if one could call them from Kairoushuh that started to fear him and avoided looking into the eyes, which wasn't an easy task to begin with, 'cause Yoite still hid his face from pesky daylight only now a brim of a sandy hat and his coal-black strands were his guardians. Instead of a hood . . .

Yes, the hood hid Yoites face that night when he was taken to at that time unfamiliar apartment, where there apparently lived some teenager with blond hair. The young fellow was clearly confused by the turn of events, although Yoite didn't see his face because of the covering coat fabric, but he felt. On that day the meaning of this blunt pulling sensation was vague abstruse and left him only with questions instead of answers, but later on this very youngster, whose name is Yukimi becoming his tutor and nanny of some sort showed a link between what Yoite felt and a person who's experiencing particular sensation. And that was how Yoite's carrier in Kairoushuh began.

Once again Yoite is cold and feels shivers running up and down the extremities. He tightens the blanket around the shoulders, but that doesn't change much. There is no such blanket in the whole white world that could help fight off the deathly hold of KIRA sucking the life out of him. This constant freezing and hunger he experiences twenty four - seven are the side effects of horrid kinjutsu. It started the next day after the arrival to Yukimi's place.

Yoite was already 16 years of age though he appeared to be not older then ten. He was tiny like a little child he felt inside, but that night everything changed. One moment everything seemed fine although it was god damn cold and the next he felt this indescribable pain like his arms and legs would have been attached to four raving horses who tried to run four different directions. Felt like the bones were being torn out of the joints and then crushed into small peaces of dust. His skin was being ripped off. His head was swelling like a balloon filled with water. His body wasn't sticking together anymore. Yoite thought that this was the end. He was being erased.

Oh, how he erred. He was not about to die. This was only a beginning to a three day torture above the imaginable and while half conscious he was doomed to live this nightmare through again and again. Nonetheless through the agony and pain he managed to notice Yukimi calling someone. His name, which isn't the real one by the way, got mentioned once or twice along the verbal fight. That cached his attention, 'cause Yoite did not remember his own name. It got lost somewhere alongside the parents and brother, that's why the young tutor gave him a new one. Yoite couldn't care less, but teenager insisted on having it after all.

- For crying out loud, one can't live without being named somehowm, - he said.

Newly inaugurated couldn't grasp why, but did not show any resistance though it took him a while to get use to responding, so, now he got very attentive when heard it. And so Yukimi was quarrelling with someone.

- Come to my apartment as soon as you can! - declared Yukimi in peremptory tone. No! Actually I want you here in 10 minutes otherwise the guy will cease living, you hear me? I don't know what the fuck is going on! - blonde screamed clearly in panic.

After a while or maybe an eternity well known blabbermouth from the hospital showed up. Of course at first she was driveling about her hard day at work and other stuff nobody at the present moment gave a fuck about, but after she looked Yoite over and down the girl shut up and got to work. Yoite wasn't quite sure what she did, he was too busy struggling with survival, but in 20 minutes or so he started to feel the pain depleting. For the first time during this nightmare started he was able to drag in a proper breath not the one like there would be an island stowed upon the chest. And while the patient savored a new gained capability to respire both care-takers disappeared into the kitchen for another squabble.

And that was how Yoite quite literally grew up. Over those three dreadful days he stretched almost twice his previous height. Hair grew tree times longer, so that they resembled a small pitch waterfall. Clothing was as good as to be thrown in the dumpster. He simply burst out of them. Yoite remembered himself taking a look in the mirror on the morning of the fourth day. Yes, he was pretty much astonished just like Yukimi when he approached the guy with a pair of scissors in his hands. Yoite wouldn't say a word, but housemate got the point anyhow. And that was how he obtained this oddish haircut of his. Yukimi wasn't much of a barber, but this one actually worked out pretty good. Well, at least Yoite thought it's ok and to say the truth that was all that mattered.

But the annoying part in the whole process was Yukimis first reaction when the re-born one entered the room. There it was again! Yoite could do without watching, 'cause he felt. Young ninja sensed the terror he stroke. And, no, it did not make him satisfied only drew him closer to the edge. The edge is actually quite real and literal, 'cause each time he uses KIRA it makes him weaker and causes decay. The moment when the last bit of his vivacity will be spent and dead into someone else's body causing both of them to leave this world wasn't that far away. Yoite was butchering himself again and again but everyone else still dreaded to even look into his direction. It maddened the young slayer. He could not understand people and by now he had given it up anyway. Yoite was tired from the fact that no matter what he did at the end there was mere panic, fright and hysteria.

He went where he was asked to go 'cause there was nothing else to do anyhow and did what he was asked to do namely murdered. Quickly and without delay he stretched one of the fingers towards a pray aiming at him that way and with no hesitation ended one's misery leaving soon after. The job was done and there were no use of him anymore, no point of staying and on top of everything as more KIRA he put into effect as more exhausted he felt. His hands used as weapons blacked by hours not days, so to hide this desolation Yoite wore gloves which he chose white as snow so to pretend that the fabric is his skin. He suffered from cold the whole time that's why no matter what was the weather outside he was dressed in light woolen jumper and coat black as his ruined skin. His figure was so tall and slim that he barely resembled human. Abilities to smell or taste were gone as well, but vision and hearing seemed to play nasty tricks on him and that lead to Yoite being afraid of even trying to touch anything. Terribly scared of touch he tried to stuff himself with food hoping that it might quiet down the pent-up mind as well.

He was a wreck. Ruins of a man. But then again . . . Recently he had come in contact with something very special, something greatly captivating. With a pair of indescribably green eyes . . .