YH: Alright, I just watched ep. 1-33 of HunterxHunter, minus the last 5 minutes of ep 33 because I had to leave my friend's house -.-'' But, anyway, this is my take on how Kilua arrived home - and eventually, when I have time, I'll go over it and add and beta and whatever, but this is the result of a good 45 minutes of just writing, about 6 hours after I finished watching.

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Dark Causeways

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Black eyes stared blankly as he moved; one foot in front of the other. You are not worthy of friends - nor do you need them. Long black hair clouded his mind, along with a voice - but the darkness was something that he'd become accustomed to years ago. It was slightly alien, because he'd been away from the stark black for a short time, but, it came back, as if an old friend. Except, that he wasn't worthy of friends; Aniki had told him so. He didn't deserve to be close to anything; he was a cold blooded killer by nature - he'd been destined to be so since the moment he was conceived. It was foolish of him to even think that he could change that fact; he was a naiive child as well as an immoral creature - his only purpose in life was to take orders from others, kill, and then, be compensated.

There were strangely no thoughts running through the normally intelligent, calm boy's head - midnight eyes lifeless, like a doll's, as he simply listened to the sounds of his brother's voice in his head. He didn't know where he was or where he was going, and it didn't matter at all either - he just kept going, robotically, because it didn't matter. All he knew, somehow, in the deep, dark back corner of his mind, was that he was getting further and further away from Gon. He didn't know how he knew this, and he didn't question it; all he knew was the sharp ache in his chest with every step his lead-weighted body took, and that was enough to tell him so. Pale hands were shoved deeply into his pockets, and his skateboard was strapped to his back carelessly - in fact, he didn't even remember picking it up as he'd left the Hunter Exam Site. All he knew was that it was with him now, and that it didn't matter.

Just fulfill the missions father and I give you with all your heart, little brother … Through the forest he walked - it didn't matter; he would probably have walked straight across the ocean if he'd not met the wharf first. It was as if instinct took over as he stepped aboard the ship, unnoticed in the shadows, a true assassin from birth. Of course it's instinct; you're nothing but a cold blooded killer who hunts people down for the right price. The voice spoke to him now as he stared lifelessly at the swishing water below him - it was nightfall now, just past twilight, and his reflection was easily visible to himself - though anyone walking by him wouldn't notice him, even for the pale colored shirt he wore over his black longsleeves.

Killua didn't bother arguing with the voice; in fact, it could be said that he scarcely heard it - he was just staring, hollow expression taking over his face, standing at the railing on deck. That worthless dog won't miss you anyway; you know how quickly he turns from one subject to the next - he'll have forgotten about you by the time he gets up. But still, the words continued, as if he was putting up some kind of argument with it, though the assassin still said nothing. And besides - you're so cold and heartless; eventually, you'd have wanted to kill him anyway. Illuma was right - and deep down inside, you know that he was. This caused the ashen haired boy's hand to change shape just slightly - the beginnings of his nails enlarging themselves, bones cracking almost silently into place as the pale brow furrowed lightly. Though still, he said nothing to argue, to defend himself, or his intentions, or the way he wanted to live his life and escape one of assassination … He remained silent there, black eyes staring at the ocean below him as the ship took off from the docks, heading only the captain knew where … …

There was a storm that night; much like the night of the first part of the Hunter Exam - however, that ship, Kilua had not been on, and so, he knew nothing of the dangers Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio faced then. The waves drew up high - as large as seven and eight times the height of the ship's mast, but it didn't matter - Kilua sat where he was, still staring at the now swirling, churning black water, eyes still as a doll's; lifeless and unseeing. His legs straddled either side of the railing, and he was seated on the deck flatly - he didn't sway when the ship did because the muscles of his legs contracted to absorb the sharp shock of the jolts left and right that the ship took.

But then, a thought - the first in almost half a day - floated through his head that was his own voice; against the howling wind and crashing waves, it could be heard, as the crew members took shelter in the bridge, and took no notice of the small, pale and dark form that was silhouetted against the briny sea when lightning lit up the skies and decks … Is this it then? Will I be killed in this storm; divine retribution for one who has taken so many lives in so little time…? there was no emotion behind the words that floated across his mind, mingled in with his brother's harsh words and his own inner demonic voice, that had since convinced him of his crimes against humanity and his lifeless existence. So completely different than Gon, it was almost like if he stayed with the boy, he would undoubtedly have to kill him at some point - he was convinced of this.

And I will not kill Gon … this thought was fierce; determined - Kilua's fingers twitched at this, nails growing as his fist curled around the railing, cracking the wood there with a mere contraction of the digits there. He would stay as far away from Gon as he possibly could, so that there was no way he'd have to do that to the smaller brunette … because he'd never be able to bring himself to do so - and he knew it as well as he knew his own name. Black eyes looked upwards for the first time as suddenly, there was only blackness, a huge wall of water raising in front of him. Kilua stared impassively at it, dark eyes holding a small flicker of life - though it was far from a positive kind.

His legs remained limp and still as the water crashed into the ship; this allowed the huge wave to push him backwards and slammed into the wall that was about eight feet behind him. The ashen pale boy didn't even feel it as he hit, body being dragged back and over the side of the ship after that with no problem at all.

Kilua didn't even blink a he was dragged down under the swirling black brine, pushed and pulled this way and that in such a manner that it would leave anyone else breathless. But, the boy remained limp and soulless through this treatment, only breaking the surface once every few minutes, body taking a breath on reflex. It seemed forever before the boy finally passed out, half from hypothermic shock at the cold, northern waters, and half at the sheer violence exerted on his form, only one thought on his young mind. Goodbye, Gon …

He didn't know how long he had been laying there - he would venture to say that he didn't even know where he was, except for one thing; the scent of the sand he laid on. Kilua knew exactly where he'd landed, and it was completely luck that it had happened that way as well. Black eyes however, did not open; for the moment, possibly forever, the white haired boy had lost the will to go on at all … Fulfill the missions father and I give you with all your heart … … White hair that was still damp even in the midday sun swayed as he moved, not noticing that his skateboard was still strapped to his back somehow, only doing one thing; the same thing he'd been doing the day before when he'd left. Moving with a completely mechanical orientation, black eyes cast down, hands at his sides. One foot … the other … … one foot … the other … …. One foot …

It was a monotonous rhythm that seemed to lull him into a half consciousness, the words in his mind simply driving his feet in that same pattern, the words of his brother stirring his body and pushing it in a very certain direction. Murderers belong with other murderers - not with little dogs who whimper at their heels to be petted; weak annoyances like that are completely worthless. Kilua's hands moved to his pockets, but besides that, he just let the voice speak, unresponsive to the sharp words and images created in the black canvas of his mind. Yes - black, just like your heart … Still nothing. Kilua just walked, black eyes still cast downwards, unseeing as he moved - he knew where he was, and he knew where his body was taking him, and he was completely unresisting of it. He was on familiar territory - his feet knew where to step without his eyes telling him where he needed to move.

It was hours, days, perhaps even weeks later - Kilua had no capacity of time, and neither wanted nor cared to find out - before he reached a small town at the outskirts of a forest and the base of a mountain. And still, his feet carried him. Up a winding path in the shadows, the hot sun beating down, though he didn't spare it a thought - he hadn't created another thought after that solemn vow he made on the stormy night at sea…

It might have been another day - it might have been longer or shorter - before he reached the top of the path, looking straight at the white gates that were topped with dragons, each one marked with a kanji that represented a number. These were as familiar to him as the land he was about to set foot on, and he didn't stop walking as he moved, ignoring a startled greeting he was given by the guard who sat in the small station next to the Gate of Trials. Continuing forwards, his arms moved to sit in front of him, and he kept going, arms not even straining as he went, not even registering that he'd opened it up to the third gate.

Mike howled at his presence, and he ignored the dog as well as he continued to walk past, eyes cast down, hands still in his pockets, not using his skateboard as means to travel through the forest as he was known to do more often than not, walking up the path. And then, he came to Karinka … and he paused. She stayed where she was, sitting under her tree, and, for the first time, he strayed from his course, walking over to the girl.

"Here - take this," he said, voice slightly dull as he stopped in front of her - in his hands, the green board with four wheels that he had treasured for years and years on end. But, for some reason … he didn't think himself worthy of it any more - he didn't deserve to keep it, because it reminded him of Gon; when they had been in the tower, and used it to escape just in time. He'd blamed the boy teasingly that the brunette needed to repay him for damaging it, and Gon had been too naiive to realize that he was only kidding with him … He'd gotten a good silent laugh about that. Kilua didn't deserve to remember such things, and so, he needed to leave behind any evidence of that …

She protested, as he knew she would, but the ashen haired boy insisted, leaving the board propped against the tree before turning and putting his hands back in his pockets, walking up towards what he had always known as 'home', and what he was now content to call 'home', because … He was an assassin, and he was to stay with his own kind.

The sad thing was, if he'd just arrived at the gates for three more minutes, he'd have met up with Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio …

Owari