Warnings: I use the Hunter's Guide spellings for characters' names (see my bio page for details). Also, this fic is rated for violence.

Author's Notes: Knowledge of Hunter x Hunter is necessary. Spoilers. This fic is part of a series of short fics and is not related to my other my " x x " series or to Hunt for the Intangible.

Sketch Two - From Darkness

He was raised in darkness.

No light made its way into his early days, days of electricity and poison, of bruises and torn skin. He came close to death countless times, but he was always drawn back, away from the light and back into the darkness.

And he continued to be close to death. To cause it. Repeatedly and mercilessly, for he was not taught mercy. He was taught to strangle, to slash, to remove the beating heart, but never to think of the ones he killed. He was taught to strike terror into his victims' souls, but never to feel anything himself.

For he was a doll. A cold, heartless doll.

He was the chosen one, heir to a throne built of bones upon the backs of rotting corpses. And he stood before that throne, surveying the aftermath caused by his family at the behest of others. He watched the targets fall, and he felt nothing. Vital organs failed within his fingers, and blood oozed from between them, but he felt nothing.

They expected him to take the throne some day and extend the bloody reign of his family. His grandfather, his parents, his eldest brother, they all knew that he was the one. The one destined to become the best. The best at killing, at destroying lives, at causing anguish in the ones left behind. And he accepted that role without question for the longest time.

Because darkness was all he knew, all that he was shown. He knew of no other existence.

But things change. One day, he decides that he is not a doll. He will not do as he is expected, as he is commanded. So he leaves the dark mountain dwelling, leaving behind a screaming mother and a cursing brother. He leaves and walks among strangers, strangers he can ignore, for they are not targets. He has no specific goal in mind. He is simply relieved to be away and on his own.

On a whim, he takes an exam and meets one unlike any he has encountered before. This boy is his age, but they are yin and yang, night and day. This boy smiles sincerely, laughs enthusiastically, and yells fiercely when he is angry.

All of this is new. Anger is new, too, for he never felt anger, nor hatred for his victims. But this boy feels anger. This boy feels many things strongly. And he confronts powerful enemies when someone is wronged. This boy feels for others.

He learns that there is another way, a way besides living in darkness. This boy takes his hand and pulls him forward forcefully, further and further into the light. Everywhere that he is led, there is joy and excitement and compassion. There is light.

Then he learns that it's not the destinations that are full of light. It is the boy himself. Light radiates from his tiny body, a blinding life force that warms everything it touches. See. Here, the boy begins to thaw the frozen heart of a suffering survivor bent on vengeance. There, he touches the heart of the enemy and earns her gratitude, unforgotten even after her death. And again, here, the boy brings hope where there is none, convinced that his wounded friend has defeated the monster and still lives.

This boy is light. His eldest brother is right; the boy is blinding. But he is tired of the darkness, and he reaches for the light, a weary moth seeking solace. He basks in its glow and hopes that it will never cease to shine on him.

For he can no longer return to the dark mountain dwelling. His father said that he would always be welcome to return, once he wearied of the outside world. But the world is his home now. The world beneath blue skies and bright sunshine.

He must never go back.

He is afraid of the dark now.