I was violently stuck to my chair for a few seconds as the train hurdled forward like a drag racing car. While it was uncomfortable for me, that was nothing compared to the poor fools standing. It was surreal seeing close to fifty people rocket to the back of the train like they were yanked by a cable. Newton's laws do not give a fuck.

Unfortunately, Newton doesn't care about collateral damage either. The unluckiest people were the ones standing at the back near me and Killua. Dozens upon dozens of passengers slammed those poor bastards against the cabin door with a sickening thud. The fortunate people were the ones who only pinballed off the chairs, ceiling, and floor. Those ever so lucky people also bounced across the ceiling, smashing fluorescent light bulbs and causing glass and blood to rain everywhere. They were lucky since they landed on the pile of bodies instead of being underneath it.

Me and Killua were lucky to have seats, so we didn't go flying. But we did have to duck to avoid the airborne people smashing into us. Even then, their bodies bounced against the wall behind us and fell on top of us like leaves from a shaking tree. In my case, three moaning people were laying on me as they nursed broken bones and concussions. I shoved them off me and onto the pile of bodies that was now blocking the aisle next to our seats. Not only that, but I had to push the bodies back so they wouldn't bury us in our row.

I looked around and saw it was pandemonium. People who didn't get knocked out, either via impromptu crash test dummy or becoming said crash test dummy, were scrambling to get to the front of the train. There had to be close to eighty people doing their best to shove past one another in the mad dash to get to the front. It was hysteria, and while they hadn't started fighting yet, it would only get worse when the other candidates realized they should.

We only had an hour to get to the front of the train. Game time. No more messing around.

While keeping pressure on the mountain of people threatening to avalanche us in I turned my head towards Killua. Most of them weren't moving and all of them were too injured to get up. We'd need another exit. We...

We...

I gritted my teeth and nodded to the boy, "Killua, you want to work together?"

The kid was surprised. I was assuming we'd get out of here together, but... that was foolish of me. I was jumping to conclusions, especially when weren't allies or even good acquaintances. Right now everyone was against each other, so he would be too, right?

But... I had a feeling Killua wouldn't mind pairing up right now.

The boy frowned, a thoughtful look on his face. He stared down at the bag of candy for a moment. Then he turned back to me and shrugged.

"For now... besides, you look like you'll need my help, old man," Killua said with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

"Yeah, yeah," said as I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help smiling.

While struggling to strike a balance between pushing the people back and not crushing them, I stuck my hand out to Killua.

"This is a proper introduction and a formal request," I said, half-joking, "my name is James, nice to meet ya'. Partners?" I said with a grin.

Killua closed his eyes and shook his head, bemused.

"You're an idiot. Fine, partners for now," he said as he grabbed my hand and shook firmly.

I let go of his hand and shifted my weight so I could get out of my seat, propping one leg on my seat and one leg on the floor. I was strong, but the pile of bodies was seriously heavy. What also didn't help was my reluctance to use my full strength. I could push these people out of our way and on to the seats across from our aisle, but that would involve serious injury to these guys. My punch was strong enough to break bones, I didn't want to think what would happen if pushed all these squishy people with my all my might.

They might be my enemy, but they were people too. I wasn't going to start killing them unless I had to. But... it looked like I wouldn't have a choice.

It wasn't just this row of seats that were swamped with bodies. There were rows of unconscious people in front of us too. Bodies were all over candidates too slow to dodge the rain of people. I growled in frustration as I realized we were trapped unless we did somethings...not nice. I was too big and tall to start crawling all over these people like Killua could. I'd have to start pushing and throwing people around without restraint if I was to escape in time...

"Take care of the candy," Killua said as he tossed me the sweets and picked up his skateboard.

I caught the bag, using my legs and back to prop up the pile of people threatening to consume our row. Killua leaped from his seat, turned to his right, and smashed a nearby window with a quick jab of his arm. Violent winds howled as it entered the cabin with a fury. It whipped and swirled glass, the cabin rocking and trembling from the sudden turbulence of air.

But Killua didn't stop there. He started hopping around the cabin with effortless grace and speed. He'd move up a few rows, smash a window, then quickly bounce to the other side of the train and smash another. Again and again, the silver-haired blur did this, my trained eyes barely seeing him as he tore apart the cabin with casual ease.

I realized what his plan was when unconscious people started flying around the cabin like ghosts. Limp bodies crashing into walls and sailing around the air from the hurricane-force winds. It was unreal to see humans rotating and hovering in mid-ar, as though defying gravity. All from the vortex created by the air currents passing through the cabin.

To my horror, unconscious and conscious people were sucked out of the windows to their doom. I let go of the bag of candy for a second and grabbed an unconscious man and managed to lodge him safely under a chair. Immediately after I held on to the seats next to me, my strength keeping me from flying as I pushed my feet against the seat to stay grounded. The candy flew away before I even had a chance to grab the bag again.

Then it happened.

I was given a choice.

Suspended in the air were my duffel bag full of supplies for the Hunter Exam, and Stick: the weapon that forged me. In the adrenaline-fueled slow-motion that my mind was in, I saw my belongings begin to fly away. Each floating away to my left and right respectively. Floating towards the windows... I couldn't let go of both hands or I'd go flying with the rest of the people around me...

I stared at the duffel bag: the supplies of equipment that I had dreamed of. That I had longed to have while in Hunter Exam. My ropes, my traps, supplies: my everything! With all that stuff it'd be cake to pass the exam. No obstacle was insurmountable. No problem was unsolvable. No barrier was unstoppable. The easiest Hunter Exam ever.

The Dream.

In the still time I turned to Stick.

It wasn't even a choice.

It still sucked though...

My right hand whipped out like a snake and grabbed Stick, my plus one duffel bag of holding floated away. Out the window. Never to be seen again...

Noooo...

Man, this exam could already go fuck itself. Ah shit, I couldn't even save the damn candy...

With a quick, frustrated shake of my head, I began my trek to the front of the cabin. I shoved Stick firmly between my teeth and began advancing through hundred mile per winds and various crap that had decided to impede my hundred-foot or so journey to the other end of the cabin. Suitcases, bags, people, weapons, even the occasional piece of clothing. Nothing was above being a pain in my ass as I used my super strength to keep myself from going airborne.

My feet were doing their best to grip the floor and failing, so I braced my legs against the blue and white seats to keep myself grounded. I pulled myself forward with my hands, grabbing and tearing into the chairs in front of me. Even with my strength, it was a chore and a half to move forward. It didn't matter how strong I was if I didn't have a grip or footing to walk. On top of the stupid amounts of shit and wind fighting to tear me off these flimsy seats, the material I was grabbing was liable to tear apart from my weight and strength. So I had to be slow and methodical with my horizontal climb, testing to make sure whatever I held onto didn't break. It was a tedious and arduous marathon forward. I rather climb that three hundred-foot tree again.

Row by row I moved, dipping and dodging flying projectiles like the world champion dodgeball player I suddenly was. Luckily, I was tall enough that Stick wasn't catching on anything like the seats. But a few times debris would hit my weapon, straining my neck muscles and jaws. Even with my strength and durability my neck muscles were becoming sore and painful.

Slowly, but surely, I managed to reach Killua. The little bastard was standing against the door to the next cabin, his nails dug into the wall next to him while he had the other hand in his pocket. He looked at me with a smirk.

"Took you long enough."

Cheeky bastard.

I grabbed Stick from my mouth while pushing myself against the wall to avoid becoming the flying cow from Twister. I nodded towards the door as I yelled over the howling wind, "Are you going to open it or not?"

Killua closed his eyes and sighed.

"Are you going to make me do everything? You do it."

I growled as he moved to the side, casually walking while his fingers were embedded into the wall. All the while he had his skateboard tucked under his other arm. I grabbed Stick from my mouth and thrusted it towards Killua, but he looked at it with disgust as he pulled away from my weapon. My slobber was all over it from a combination of biting down hard and the wind blowing saliva everywhere. I shoved into his hand anyway as he twisted his head back and forth in revulsion, rapidly rotating Stick with his hand to dry the thing. I rolled my eyes.

My left hand reached into my suit jacket, pulling out my knife from its sheath. I stabbed into the wall left to the door, high above Killua's head. I pushed against the knife and floor to keep myself from being swept by the winds. I reached over and grabbed the dip in the metal door with my right. I yanked lightly, only to find that the door was somehow locked. With a frustrated growl, I pulled with all my strength and I fell forward through the door, completely unprepared for how strong I was. It was as if the door was locked with some string and a paperclip.

I landed face-first on the floor, my death grip yanking the knife out of the wall and bringing it with me. Killua unceremoniously hopped onto my back and closed the door behind me. I heard a twisting, shrill sound of metal being bent as well as the shattering of glass. Pushing myself off the ground and shaking Killua off my back, I turned around to find the door was completely beyond recognizable. The thing was twisted, jammed in a way so that no one was getting through it without super strength or a bazooka. Even the tall, oval window on the door was now closer to two separate teardrops than a whole shape. Beyond the broken window I could see contestants from the twelfth car, no longer trapped by piles of bodies, now doing their best to move forward and losing to the wind.

The whistling sound of the passing air from behind us was loud and shrill, wind currents from the cabin sucking the stagnant air in this car through the hole. But we were no longer dealing with the full brunt of the wind, so we were fine. I turned back towards our cabin to see people staring at us in horror, as though we were two movie monsters. Killua shoved Stick into my chest and wiped his hands on my clothes.

"That was gross! Next time I'll open the door and you break the windows!" the silver head twerp said, face scrunched up in disgust.

"Don't wipe your hands on me!"

"It's your spit!"

I growled as I batted away his hands from me, the kid sticking his tongue out.

"We ain't gonna' do that again, ok? That was fuckin' insane," I said, my city accent coming out.

Killua put his hands behind his head. He looked at me dismissively before speaking, "Pssh. If we keep doing it we'll get to the front in no time. All you gotta' do is hold on."

I looked around to find that the layout of this cabin was different. The seats here had handholds on them, allowing most of the passengers in this cabin to survive our sudden, rocket acceleration a few minutes ago. There were only a few dozen or so people that were knocked out, and not all of them were in the back where we were. As opposed to our cabin where everyone standing at the end was annihilated.

Shit, that's not good. I could already piece together what was going to happen.

At least the lights were white again, as opposed to trolling disco lights. Gotta' find the bright side, right?

With a violent sigh, I spoke, "The cabins are gonna' get progressively more and more packed... Whoever designed this test wanted the people at the back to fail, maybe to punish them for being late? All while making it so the people in the front would survive his crazy launch. At the same time, the layout is... more spacious. The doors are locked... He's forcing us to fight it out. It's gonna' be a bloodbath..."

I stared at the people in front of us, most of them holding their weapons at us like we were a pair of werewolves. But they didn't worry me. I was more concerned about the child to my right. I quickly looked at Killua from the corner of my eye, then back to the crowd of people blocking our path. The kid was flexing his sharp fingers with a dark look on his face, thinking. Many of the candidates were holding swords, knives, even clubs for some reason. A handful of people had guns of various kinds.

I knew what Killua was thinking: these people were easy to justify killing.

I gritted my teeth.

"Killua, try not to kill these people. If they have a gun... crush their wrists or something. Even cut them off if you have too," I said as I slipped my knife back into its sheath, holding Stick by its hilt in my right hand like a Merry Poppins holding her unopened umbrella.

"Tch, why not? It's not like they'd do the same for us."

I wanted to say 'because I said so', but that's a terrible and patronizing argument. Especially since Killua was just as fast upstairs in the cabeza, but still, he was just a kid... I felt like...I don't know, kids shouldn't be killing so casually...

And he was one hundred percent about to kill everyone in front of us. And it'd be my fault.

"I'm not going to say what you did back there was the wrong move, because it wasn't. It was absolutely the right move considering the circumstances. But, a lot of people died back there... I'll be honest, I just don't want to see you kill," I said, turning my head to him and locking eyes with the boy. He stared at me with a dismissive, annoyed look. The type that every kid has when they think they're being talked down to.

I sighed before turning back to the crowd that was slowly approaching us. I didn't have much time to convince the kid from slaughtering the whole train car. I'm also pretty sure he wouldn't do it if I weren't around. Not because he couldn't or wouldn't, but because it'd be trivial for him to bounce across this train in a blur. Hell, I'm pretty sure he could Spider-Man his way outside of this train if he wanted to.

He was going to slaughter everyone because it was the most expedient and efficient way for me to get across this damn train. Giving candy to him and some soda (even poisoned), for whatever reason, was enough for him to help me out. He was committed to taking my purple-red-brown whatever the fuck my headed-ass was to the front of the train: human lives be damned. Since we didn't have time to spare, and I was the thing holding him back from being nonviolent.

I inhaled, deeply, before sighing in frustration and then speaking as fast as I could to convince him.

"Look, go ahead without me if you want. You're definitely as strong as these two guys I trained with, and they were monsters. You could get past all these people without an issue. And we've both have killed before... So don't take it that I'm belittling you or being holier than thou. I'm not. I just... I can see it in your eyes and actions, kid. You're a killer, but... I think you don't want to be. For you killing is a habit, or a thing you think you should do. Your instinct... your first choice is to kill, but that's a choice. It's always a choice. One that's up to you. But you don't have to kill, you're better than that, literally and figuratively..." I finished honestly.

A short silence spread between us as I kept an eye on the people in front of me. They were gathering their courage, getting ready to attack. If they did... they would be wheat against a scythe. There was no way I could stop the boy. All I could do was hope.

"What do you know?! Who do you think you are, thinking you know me?! To tell me what to do?!"

I gritted my teeth. His voice was raw. Maybe I was too direct with him... But I didn't have much of a choice right now.

I stared quickly at Killua before staring back at the combatants in front of us.

Yup, there they are. He had those eyes. Those terrible eyes.

Grow up poor in almost any city and you'll eventually meet a killer, a gangster, or some type of criminal. It's not as cool or as glamorous as it sounds. It's either sad, disturbing, or plain terrifying. I've met plenty of them, some of them short-term friends or acquaintances.

Keyword: short-term.

Those were the guys that grew up in the roughest lives. The ones, who at times, really had no choice but to do the things they did to survive. Rob, fight, even kill. Hell, I've stolen when I was hungry. I stole days before I died: right from the pizza factory that killed me. So I'm not going to claim I'm better than them or a saint, I just know. I've been there. I've seen and felt the guilt, sadness, and helplessness in their eyes when you talk to them about why they do the things they do. Even the hardened ones that know better have Killua's eyes. Even if it's for a split second.

Some of those guys really don't care. I'm not going to defend them. Some people are just monsters or just plain crazy. But for the ones who have a good heart in a bad situation, it's always the same thing. As corny as it sounds, those eyes were a cry for help. It's a split second of pure honest, innocent, child-like want: they want someone to help them from their situation. They don't want to be where they are in life anymore. But they don't know what to do. They think they're in too deep...

But you can't help them. Not because they're unhelpable, far from it, but because they're minds are trapped. They're in an illusion of helplessness, the feeling of having no choice or limited choices. It's a lie, built by circumstances and an environment far beyond their control. I should know, I've been there countless times. I've been in that evil frame of mind. The only thing that stopped me from staying there was thinking, 'What would my father do? What would he think if he saw me like this?' That's literally the only thing that stopped me from being another generic white drug dealer in Detroit. One good fucking role model that changed everything. Just one person that gave a shit.

And to that, I owe my dad everything.

Some aren't lucky like me. To those unlucky, it becomes a rot that festers and grows until it's conditioning and habits. A way of life that becomes so toxic, so self-destructive that it'll take you with them if you reach out to help. I was never strong enough or in a position to help my friends who fell to the dark side of Detroit. The only person that could have helped them was themselves.

It's fucked up. It's a fucked up thing with no easy answer. What's more fucked up was... this is the first time I saw it in a little child. And it was the worst I've ever seen. A look of rage, guilt, conflict, and sheer desperate help.

And... I didn't know what to do to stop him, just like all the times my dead or arrested friends were about to make a horrifying choice. A choice they telegraphed from a mile way. It was easy to tell because...

They always gave you those pleading, lost, angry, confused eyes. Like they had no fucking choice in the matter!

A burst of anger came from deep within my being. Fine, maybe I'll let myself be dragged down to hell! If it stops this stupid kid from going deeper to hell and never coming back.

"Damn it, Killua! I don't know what happened to you, or what kinda' shitty life you had to go through, but you have control; even in the worst of times. I've only known you for less than an hour, but you're just a kid. Kids don't deserve to lose their innocence like you and I have. You can still get some of it back! You can still be happy," I quickly turned to see Killua staring death at me. It wasn't working," Damn it, Killua! I'll make it to the front of this train, and even if I don't it's fine... it's not worth you murdering all these people!"

I looked back one last time to see him still staring at me, cold.

Panicked, I raised my voice, "You're right! I can't tell you what to do, but if you want to know who I am and why I think I know you, well, don't kill anyone. Deal?!"

I held my breath, praying to God that he wouldn't fly off the handle and kill everyone else in this car.

Or kill me and then do it anyway.

Thing about hardened killers and criminals, even the guys you're kinda' friendly with? You never know where the wind is blowing with those guys. Say the wrong word, at the wrong time, on a wrong day and you're liable to get punched in the mouth or worse. I should know, getting socked in the mouth from former 'friends'. One of the many reasons why I became more of an introvert the older I became. I'm withdrawn, but I like people. Yet even friendliest dog becomes closed off after one too many bad experiences. It's also why I'm mostly quiet around people when I first meet them. I don't go out of the way for them unless I'm certain of who they are.

It takes time to see if I can trust them... if they're good people...

Look what rushing and letting my guard down got me with fucking Tonpa. But my gut and brain are usually right with most people. Usually... I felt like Killua was...

I nervously swallowed.

I hope breaking my habit works in my favor...

Seconds ticked by as the candidates started to inch closer, weapons ready. They were still hesitant, seeing as we were casually talking about killing them. The fact that we tore apart the last cabin and Killua sealed a metal door with his bare hands was probably weighing heavily on their minds. We held their lives in our hands. So it was a matter of whether or not deep down Killua was the person I thought and hoped he was ... or the person he thought he was.

Killua debated with himself as the sand in the our proverbial hourglass drained away. The other passengers were only a few meters away. I could see Killua through my peripherals, flexing his fingers as he stared at me, burning a hole through my head with his strange eyes. The boy's irises were like cat-eyed slits, the nails at the ends of his hands ready to slice me and everyone around him to bits. I couldn't begin to imagine what he was thinking. I honestly don't.

At this point I could only hope.

He decided.

With a roar of anger and a titanic punch, Killua sent a chair flying over the rows of seat and into the crowds of people.

"Damn it! Fine! But I'm only doing this because you gave me all that candy before. And you better tell me who you are and why you think you know better," he said, whispering that last part. His words promising a painful result if I didn't.

I let go of the breath I was holding. From the the top of my head to the tip of my toes, pure, sweet relief overcame me. My lungs sucked in a deep breath and I shot out a long sigh. I laughed.

"You know, for a minute there I thought you were gonna' to kill me."

"Don't push it. I still might kill you. Don't think I didn't see you lose it."

I squeezed my eyes and twisted my face as I hissed, almost like I was physically in pain.

He was referring to the bag of candy.

"Yup...I was hoping you wouldn't notice. I promise I'll buy you a mountain of candy."

"You better," he said with annoyance, but I could tell he was coming around from straight murdering me. I think.

"Alri-", I was cut off by the sound of the speakers blaring to life.

"Six minutes have passed! Time to say bye-bye to car twelve! Sayonara!"

With that, the train swayed as it detached car twelve. The two of us spun around, ignoring the other candidates because, frankly, they sucked. We saw through the twisted window of the door the twelfth car detach. In fact, the whole wall detached as well, leaving a giant hole in the back of car eleven. We could see the trapped people desperately jumping to the next car, only to fall onto the tracks at a hundred miles per hour. Passengers in eleven were being sucked through the gigantic hole in the back, caused by the air currents from the windows now having a big, convenient exit. It was now a wind tunnel for those desperate few clinging on for dear life.

This was obvious, but this was no fucking train I've ever been on in my entire life. Like a subway from hell.

It became worse. The train lurched forward, the crazed conductor accelerating us by another twenty-four kilometers, just as he promised.

This was insane. I guessed that we launched at a hundred miles per hour, and I didn't know if we were actually going a hundred and fifteen miles per hour or not now (it's not like I have a speedometer), but it certainly fucking looked like it. Outside was a blur.

Even Killua was slightly surprised.

"Huh. So that's how it looks like when people fly out like that..."

Ok, guess that look was fascination, not surprise. My mistake.

I shook my head and turned back to the crowd of frozen people, "Alright people, six minutes. Let's go! Either move out of our way or you'll end up like everyone in the car behind us. You decide."

Some of them did move out of the way, shuffling sideways into the rows next to them. Others didn't. Somehow they thought a six-foot two, vaguely purple-headed man who talked down a silvery-white headed kid who crumpled a metal door as if it were made of aluminum foil were easy opponents.

You would think superhuman bullshit was enough to dissuade them, but no. I cracked my neck and got r- wait... I looked past fifty or so people who thought they could beat us and saw something that really pissed me off.

I waved my left hand towards the door as good as Annoyed Picard himself, "Are you serious?! You fuckers haven't even opened the door and you want to fight us?! Get the fuck outta' way, we'll open the doors."

Most of the people looked embarrassed, as they should. I had to fucking make that speech and we didn't even need to fight? Assholes, I should let Killua kill them, for making me pour my heart out like that.

We walked towards the people who had the balls to fight us. They didn't attack us though. I guess the sheer confidence we had, as well the fact that they were trapped in this car without our help, was enough to stop them from doing anything.

As we walked past the dumbstruck candidates to the door, Killua closely behind, I noticed the boy sounded, or well, didn't make footsteps like Mayer. I almost looked at him, if it weren't for the fact I wasn't that confident to let down my guard against these dumbasses.

"Gee, you really are a softie, old man. That or naive. 'Please don't kill them! You're a good kid!' Hehehe..." the kid said from behind, his voice full of mirth and mocking.

"Por que no los dos?" I grumbled, my face red from embarrassment.

I got to the train door and put my fingers into the indented handhold and jerked, hard. The door opened, but I noticed I needed more strength than the previous door. I guesstimated that, by the last car, I'd have to use my full strength to open the door.

I shook my head, "I guess they really wanted us to answer that question correctly, 'cause they doing their hardest to make sure only the best make it to the front."

I heard the sound of hundreds of marching footsteps running towards us, only for them to stop when Killua knocked someone backward. I whipped around fast enough to see Killua, his eyes close, casually landing from kicking a man in the face. He sent that man flying into the crowd behind us.

"Be thankful the geezer behind me wants you guys alive, or ev-" Killua said before I cut him off by grabbing him by the collar a with my left hand. I picked him up and headed towards the door.

The boy started kicking and punching the air, trying to breaking himself from my grasp.

"Hey, what are you doing!? Get off of me! Can't you see I was telling them off?!"

"Yeah, yeah. You don't get to be cool after I show concern for you, especially this time." I said, semi-serious and semi-joking.

He did stand on my back. Little shit.

Killua slackened as he hovered in the air from my grip, like a kitten in its mother's mouth. He folded his arms as he tried to speak to me while staring forward in mid-air.

"You were serious?"

"Yup." I said, dropping Killua as we got through the door and turning around.

I couldn't twist the door like Killua, so I decided another option. I smashed the window with Stick, glass flying into the tenth car in a spray of shards. I cleared any sharp pieces away from the metal window frame until I was satisfied I wouldn't cut myself with my next actions. Putting down my sword, I gripped the window frame with both hands and pushed as hard as I could with my entire body, shoving the damn door until the hinges broke. I then rotated the door so it was sideways, blocking anyone from entering. After a few test yanks, I was satisfied no one was going to move or get past this door unless they were at least my strength.

Considering the faces of betrayal and anger coming from the car, no one was.

Patting my hands in satisfaction, I grabbed my sword and turned around, only to see Killua standing on a chair. His dagger-like nails up against my throat. I didn't even hear him move. His eyes were cold, dead things: the kind of eyes on a man who had no qualms about killing. I've seen those eyes before. The same eyes on the people that punched me in the face when I showed concern. The same eyes that screamed they needed to prove something. They usually kicked me into a pulp...

Those and this situation right here were why I stopped reaching out...

While this was far different than simply being beaten up by some guy you thought you could help, I wasn't nervous.

I stared back into Killua's eyes, impassively.

"Well?" I said, shrugging my shoulders as I stared into his cold, blue eyes.

This atmosphere... his bloodlust, there we go. His bloodlust screamed he was ready and willing to kill me.

"What if I told you I'm an assassin? That my whole family were assassins? That since that day I was born I was trained to do one thing: to kill?" his voice was emotionless. Barely above a whisper.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I knew he was telling the truth. My eyes opened and to reveal sad eyes.

"I'm sorry you had to live that way. To go through... that. You never deserved to endure that. But I don't think you're asking that. I think the question you're asking is... whether you're a monster or not. Something like that, right? The answer: No, I don't think you're some kind of monster. And I don't care you're an assassin, you're just another... person in this strange, strange world. Like anyone else," I said, absolutely honest.

"Idiot. You don't even know how many people I've killed. I could kill you right now. You think I won't?" he said, his voice still the same, but there was something in his eyes.

Without even hesitating, I placed a hand on his head. The same way my dad did when I was upset.

"Killua, as messed up as you are, I can tell you're a good person. You got issues. But we all do, don't we?" I said with confidence, rubbing his head with a smile, before walking away.

He stood there frozen and confused. I walked to the throng of people looking at us, all of them confused at two monsters having a heart to heart.

"Idiot! You're wrong..." the boy yelled at me.

I stopped and stared at the passengers in front of me. All of them were just as wary of us as the last car. Are we the only two superhumans that took this train?

"You're wrong!" he yelled again, but this time he was right behind me. I couldn't tell if he was ready to stab me with his nails or had his fists balled up.

I hung my head and sighed before turning around. His pose was the later, fists balled up and face covered in hair: bangs of silver hiding his emotions from me.

"Look Killua, what do you want me to say? Do you think I'm telling you what you want to hear? 'Cause I'm not. I'm tired of doing that: doing what I'm supposed to do. I just did that with the examiner and answered wrong. All because I thought I was supposed to answer the question honestly. But, I realized that if I had just done what I wanted, which was stay quiet, then I'd have passed so either w-"

"Get to the point," the boy said, his body language a maelstrom of confusion and rage.

"I'm tired of doing the things I'm supposed to do. That's what I've done my whole life, and that... didn't pan out. So I'm going to do the things I want to do. I want to tell you the truth, and I'm an honest guy anyways. Not necessarily truthful though..."

I tapped my foot against the ground. Jeez, I'm really meandering now...

"What I'm trying to get at is... I'm not lying to you, I know you could easily tell. So you know I mean it when I say you're a good person. A naturally good person forced into a bad life. I believe it for a fact! It's in your eyes, it's in your smile when you eat your candy, or how you could have killed me right now but hesitated... It's a lot of things, Killua. I can tell, alright? I'm good at that. Something passed on to me by me pappy. It's a Hartford family thing," I said, as I tapped my head with a smirk.

"Your last name is Hartford?" Killua said, his eyes looking at me now. They weren't dead anymore.

I sucked in a breath as I ran my free hand through my hair. Shit, I should not have said that. I really shouldn't have said that.

The train speakers crackled as Spaulo Forza the Speed Hunter spoke. He was laughing. The fucking maniac.

"...we're having quite the crazy ride ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you! We have two people just tearing through the back of the train like a hurricane! Train car six has become a reaaaaal battleground, a shoot out of epic proportions! And in three and four it's been a stalemate. No one can get through the last door, but they can't go back! This has been more than I could imagine! I love, love, love it!"

I hate this man. Can I be a Hunter Hunter? I want to hunt this man with gusto. He's stronger than me, all Hunters are, but give me a year... ooooooooh... just a year...

"Another six minutes! Au Revoir train car eleven! It was nice knownin' ya!"

The train shuddered as the car was detached. The train began accelerating another twenty-four kilometers. I hope this track didn't have cur-

"A bit of a warning, the track ahead has some nasty curves! So all you guys in the back, hang on! You're about to have a bumpy ride!"

I nodded my head like a maniac. Of course. Of course!

Killua walked passed me, his hands in his pocket. He looked at me from the corner of his eyes before looking straight back at the crowd.

"Zoldyck. That's my last name," he said, strangely with a shrug and sigh.

"Ahhh. Yeaaaah. That isn't my last name anymore... That guy's dead. I'm technically James Tao Long. That's what it says on my stupid ID and passport," I said as I rolled my eyes.

Why does Zoldyck sound familiar? I think that info was uploaded into my brain...

I turned up to see Killua looking at me with surprise. I turned back to look at the rest of the cabin. They looked terrified of us.

I was so confused.

The first guy in front of us yelled, "No wonder these guys are monsters! A Tao Long and a Zoldyck?! Forget this! I'll take the exam next year."

I looked a back at Killua, bewildered at what was going on. The kid was staring at my hair as though piecing together something.

"Huh, shoulda' guessed you were a Tao Long with that weird hair color of yours. You look like that old lady too," he said, as though finally realizing something.

"I don't look like her! The fuck?! I only have her hair color!"

"That's why you talk like a gangster, and look like one... Hey, is Mayer still working for you guys?!" Killua said, slowly coming out from his dark mood from earlier.

Alright. I don't talk a gangster... I think. I gave Killua an annoyed look before answering.

"Uh yeah... he's my Master, why?"

With that, nearly everyone sat down or moved out of the way. I could hear people muttering to themselves, one guy even yelled, 'Fuck this'.

"Really?! No wonder you use a wooden sword! I should have known!" he said, nearly hopping up and down.

"Ok... but why did you ask?" I said as I looked from him to the rest of the people on the train.

I don't know why I had such a terrible feeling. Like I just walked into a bigger world than I ever knew. One that I had no idea I was a part of.

"'Cause he's friends with my Grandpa! He's the only one that can come to the house without anyone bothering him, probably because he's known Grandpa for so long. He's really strong too! I don't know anyone other than maybe my dad or Grandpa as strong as him. He's the one who gave me the idea to try out the Hunter Exam!" he said cheerily, actually jumping up and down like the child he was.

Ooooh. Now I remember. Zoldycks are the foremost assassination family in the world...wait what?!

I raised my free hand up like it was a stop sign, "Hold up, how is Mayer friends with your Grandpa? Mayer's like thirty, forty at most."

Killua rolled his eyes.

"They took the Hunter Exam together when they were teenagers. And how are you his student when you don't even know his age?! He's the same age as my Grandpa, sixty-seven," he said, his hands behind his head as he looked at me like I was his favorite word: an idiot.

I stood there, frozen, my jaw hanging. You could almost hear the cartoon squeak as it swung back and forth.

How is that blonde Atlas sixty-seven?! I want his genes!

"HE CAN'T BE SIXTY-SEVEN! THAT MAN DOESN'T HAVE A HAIR OF GRAY ON HIM! HE HAS TWO KIDS THAT ARE SIXTEEN!" I screamed as I began throttling the kid, his eyes spinning in his skull.

Killua kicked me in the stomach, hard enough that I was forced to let go.

I rubbed my belly. Ow.

"You're pretty tough... It's like kicking a tree. Mayer must have trained you hard," he said with an eyebrow raised, his eyes reassessing me.

"You. Have. No. Idea..." I said like a soldier who lived through Vietnam.

I moved my sword into my left hand and rubbed my face with my right hand.

"God damn it. Whatever. Revelations about my Master can be dealt with later. We got to get to the front of the train. We got seven more cars to go," I said while looking between my fingers.

To my surprise, Killua stuck out his right hand for a handshake.

"Partners?" he said, a look of... tentative hope in his eyes.

I don't know what brought over this change.

"Get the fuck out of here..." I said, my hand still firmly against my face.

Killua looked shocked and then hurt, his right hand slowly lowering. That was until I slammed my hand into his palm and shook it with the passion and excitement of Fourth of July fireworks, "Not partners, friends."

I looked down at Killua Zoldyck with a big grin. He stared up at me with wide eyes before looking away, sheepishly.

"Idiot... don't say stupid things like that..."

I laughed.

Honestly, I respected the hell out of him. Killua was a Daft Punk song: better than me in almost every way. But as smart as he was, he was still only a child. He was scared of becoming something new, yet he was taking his first steps anyways. That took guts. He ain't gonna' change immediately, hell maybe not even in a year, but he was willing to believe he was something more than just a killer.

Or even something else. I'm smart, not telepathic.

He can be whatever he wants to be. Just gotta' be himself is all. I'm just happy I could pass along the wisdom my dad gave me, in my own strange way.

Now Killua had the barest of hope burning in him. That's fine. That'd be enough. He was a good kid.

My grin of friendship turned into a grin of shit-talking, "By the way, I think you got a pimple on your head. You gotta' wash your hair better, kid."

"Shut up! You're the one touching a little boy's heads like a creep!" he yelled as he shot me an annoyed look.

Killua let go of my hand and turned around, skateboard firmly underneath his left arm as he pointed to the door with his right.

"You take care of the next car. I've done enough work for now."

"Oh yeah? That bag of candy enough for only three cars worth of work?"

"Tch, you've barely done anything. I should get two mountains worth for all the work I did," Killua said as he shot one hand in the air while walking forward. I followed behind him.

As he lead the way, his head firmly facing the front, he asked a question. A question that was simple to answer, but hard to learn.

"How could you tell I didn't want to kill? That I'm not a monster?" he asked, simply, without fuss. But their was curiosity in his voice.

A memory flashed through my mind. My friend being killed for his wallet, even after he gave it to the man. Shot right between the eyes.

All because the wallet was empty. I hid like a coward.

I saw Killua flinch for a split second as I stared at the door that stood in front of me.

"Because you were thinking it over, finding a reason to kill. Monsters don't bother justifying their actions. They just don't care. Trust me Killua, not all monsters are cackling villains or giant apes. Most of them aren't larger than life."

I gritted my teeth as I opened the door to the next car.

"All a human has to do to become a monster is not care."

Sadly, I think Killua already knew that lesson...

"Whatever. I'll take care of the next cars. The sixth car is supposed to be the hard one anyways..." I said, looking forward to taking out my anger.


Hey all! Hope you're all doing well! And I hope things keep going well for you!

Below are just some of my musings. Skip ahead to the next chapter people far in the future if you simply wish to read! Enjoy!

Killua is one of my favorite characters in anime. Like Hunter X Hunter in general, he's a deconstruction of that prodigious, precious, child assassin that is epidemic in a lot stories. He's never treated as a edgelord either, but his abilities, knowledge, and inner struggles are written with respect. Both his self-esteem issues as well as his warped mind from his upbringing are all treated seriously and realistically. Killua sees Gon and finds that he can be a better person, trying to reach the light that Gon perpetually gives off, while at the same time hating and not knowing who he is and feeling like he might not find his purpose until the very end(I'm assuming end, fucking Togashi) of the story. I always wondered what would happen if he had someone who genuinely looked out for him, not for some ulterior motive. There is one in Gon, but Gon is a child as well as selfish. Hopefully the combination of James and Gon will be enough to change Killua faster than in canon?

Who knows? [laughs in George RR Martin].

As you can tell, I like keeping you guys in the dark.

Some of James' experiences are based on people I know, and I made it less depressing then then their stories. If the interaction between James and Killua bothers you or it feels cheesy, I understand. I'm still growing as a writer and this is my gym; training my muscles so to speak. So please forgive me lords, FOR I KNOW NOT WHAT I DO! Hehehe.

If some of you are disturbed even more after reading the beginning of the last paragraph, I apologize. But I've learned that life is far darker than any fiction. Because at least a story has to make sense.

Thank you as always, for all the reviews!

Now let me answer a question one of my reviewers asked. The ever loyal Twistedluck.L

He asked why I considered Kurapika stronger than James, even with all the training James has done.

This is the answer I gave him (changed a little to better reflect my thoughts) if you are all curious. It also sheds some light on how I write my stories:

The ranking I gave aren't necessarily an indicator of just pure strength. Its an overall tier list measuring numerous things, amongst which would be who would win the most if they fought each other ten times, ya know? I used SPECIAL and or D&D stats actually since both are a pretty convenient way to categories a fictional character's abilities. Obviously, some things are unquantifiable, but with that, I use rigorous, scientific GUESSTIMATIONS and my gut feeling. If you want a break down of the SPECIAL or D&D stats for the five, I'd do that. They'll be horribly wrong, but you'll understand my thought process better.

Anywho. Giving all factors put together such as training to become a hunter, Will derived from his hatred towards Phantom Troupe (aka P.T. Barnum and Bailey's Nightmare Circus), ungodly level of smarts, speed, and fighting ability, Kurapika would beat the piss out of James like 7 out of 10 times. And I would only give James 2 wins from mostly luck, and 1 from actual skill, physical ability, and fighting ability. James and Kurapika fight similarly, and unfortunately, James is dumber than Kurapika. Kurapika would capitalize on James' shortcomings while James' couldn't with Kurapika. Kurapika is just too damn smart. And while James is highly intelligent, especially emotionally intelligent and wise, he kinda misses the obvious some times, which would be to just run up to Kurapika and deck him in the schnoz. Even if he did, I can't see Kurapika being less skilled than James in a straight fight.

In terms of pure strength, I would say James is stronger overall, especially upper body wise. That's with a huge asterisk though. I'm using the highest shown feats from both the manga and anime, so while Kurapika isn't as impressive in the manga, in the anime he is a beast. So let us begin:

In episode five around 8:30 minute mark he jumps on the Fog Turtle to save Leorio, which is an insane jump. It's probably around 50 feet (15.12 meters), but even if we reduced it to 30 feet(9.14 meters) as a low ball, he is ridiculously strong. Using a vertical jump calculator and using 360 inches (914.4 cm) and kurapika's weight of 129.8 pounds (58.87 kg) from the wiki he can probably squat 2791 pounds or 1265.97 kg. That means he can lift 21.50 times more than his own body weight. That's crazy. James is only 7 times stronger than his own body weight. So I place Kurapika firmly stronger than James in leg strength since he's jumping like Space Jam. But in upper body strength, I'd say James for sure.

Obviously there are going to be discrepancies and inconsistencies, since Hunter X Hunter is a work of fiction and you can't logically account for everything. I mean, if we did the same measurement for Killua using his strength, he would able to jump 450.35 feet straight up. About 137 meters, and my boi Killua's a beast, but not skyscraper jumping beastly. No one in my fucking story is jumping that high unless it's Uvogin, Mayer, or some equally ridiculously top tier guy like Netero.

And, jumping isn't necessarily the same as pure strength; a lot of people can jump really high and not really lift as much, due to you're tendons and ligaments, length of your legs, overdeveloped muscles, high strength to weight ratio, proper jumping form, etc. Given all that, it still is usually a good indicator of overall strength development and explosiveness, while leg strength certainly is a good indicator of overall strength.

He could skip arm day or something, I dunno *shrug*, but the way he manhandled Majtani in trick tower without much issue shows how physically strong Kurapika's upper body is. Majtani probably weighed close to 250 pounds (113.39 kg) and Kurapika basically gave him an Undertaker chokeslam. If I had to guess, I'd say he could bench 500-700 pounds without issue. It's harder to bench the lighter you are, while it's easier to squat the lighter you are (in general, you ain't have to lift your own fat ass). As well as how he basically flash stepped to the blue bastard , while unquantifiable for the most part, is certainly faster than James. Definitively, in my mind, placing Kurapika on a higher tier.

And now you know why James isn't OP as shit like other Self insert stories lol. Rigorous MATH AND SCIENCE! As well as a lot of personal experience circumnavigating life's dark waters.

Let me say this though: there isn't anything wrong with an OP protagonists, power fantasies, or escapist stories. Technically this is an escapist story, but not really, and I just couldn't do the other two. The beauty of this story (in my humble opinion) is the journey and the struggle of James growing and navigating a new stage in his life. As well as entering a whole new world he was not ready for and adapting to it. Its his growth from James Hartford to what he will be by the time this story is finished. The self-actualization of a person. Something I think many people can understand in life, since we all go through it at one point or another.

As for the fighting analysis, lot of it is mostly personal experience when it comes to competing and training in martial arts as an amatuer for most of my life.

But if ALL this shit gets in the way of good storytelling, it goes out the window.

Thanks again for the wonderful question Twistedluck.L!

If you guys have any questions, shoot me a review or send me a PM!

Until next time dear readers!