Breathing, something that comes naturally to every single living being in the world. It's usually easy or at least it's supposed to be, after all, if you were to stop breathing, then that would mean that you're DEAD.

Now, the one-million-dollar question is, how does something so easy and natural become so difficult and unnatural? Why was every single breath he took so shallow? Small? And why was he in so much pain? His head was fuzzy and he couldn't remember what happened.

He wanted to remember, but instead, he decided to focus on something else. His breathing. He had to breathe, even if every breath he took brought him insufferable pain. No, not insufferable, after all, he was trained not to feel the pain, no that's also incorrect, what he was taught was to ignore the pain. He was taught that even if he had to suffer through great waves of pain, he had to complete his mission, even if that meant his death. The mission came first, treatment... well, that usually never came. He always had to patch his own wounds, to make his own stitches. But even when those wounds were healed, they always left something behind, something to remind him of his failure, his weakness. SCARS. He had lost count of how many of them he had on his body, and every single one of them held a different story. Some were from training; some were from missions, and some were from running... running? Running from where? Or rather, from whom?

Oh, that's right, I ran away, I made friends. Friends that had my back and I had theirs. But there is more... he thought, feeling a few flashbacks coming to his mind and taking him to the past. His breathing was still shallow but it was faster now. He decided to stop trying to recall what happened, to force the flashbacks back. A part of him didn't want to remember and another wanted nothing more but to give himself to his memories. But logic overwhelmed curiosity, he knew what he had to do, he had to focus to keep his breathing steadier. And so, he did. It took him a while, but he managed.

He slowly felt more of his consciousness coming back to him.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeping? Why is there beeping? Can someone make it stop? It's annoying...

Droplet. Droplet. Droplet.

Did Gon leave the sink open or something? Or was it All... he stopped himself from saying her name. He wasn't sure why though, but he felt a stinging pain in his chest at the sound of that name. But why did the sound of his little sister's name bring him pain? And speaking of a little sister, where was she? Was she sleeping beside him?

He tried to focus his hearing, looking for the soft breathing sound his sister made when she was sleeping.

He heard the powerful wind, making a shrieking sound against the window. He heard footsteps, a lot of them and a little too far away from him to be in the same room as him. Then murmurs. He couldn't make out what exactly they were saying. Doors opening and closing. Cartwheels being pushed down.

Sounds. So many sounds but none belonging to his sister. To the person he was looking for.

With newfound determination, Killua decided to open his eyes, a task that was proven harder than he was expecting.

His eyes were stinging but he chose to ignore it. He slowly opened them but just a little bit, making it look like they were still closed. The moment he opened them though, he was assaulted by the light that swallowed the room. He blinked a few times before opening his eyes completely. Once he managed that, he looked around, taking the scenery in. He was in a hospital room, the beeping was coming from a heart monitor while the dropping water was coming from an IV.

He tried to sit up, wincing in pain. Once again, he chose to ignore it. He looked at his body. He was wearing his shorts but not his shirt, and he was covered with bandages, some of them covered with blood.

He looked outside the window. It was sunny with a powerful wind. The light that came from outside made the dust in the air visible. He stared at it. He stared at the dust like he was waiting for something. But it was just dust. Dust. DUST. He forced himself to look away from it and to look at his hands. Drops fell from his face, his eyes, realizing that he was crying. But why? It wasn't the pain, was it the dust? But it was just dust, it wasn't like it was Alluka... Dust, Alluka... Memories of last night's events flooded his mind, making his tears come down in waves. It was silent. Just like always, he cried without making any noise, just like when he was training.

A silent cry. Silently suffering. He was alone, completely alone. His sister was dead. "Because of you," said a familiar voice in his head. His friends were in another world. "Better that way, they will be safer without you," the voice said again. His hold on the blanket tightened, turning his knuckles white from the force. Even if there was a way for him to go back, he wouldn't be able to. Alluka banished him from his world. He was left in a whole new world alone, with no sister, no friends, just him and his pain.

He looked at his backpack and skateboard, in the chair next to his bed. He reached out for his backpack and pulled a small paper from its outside pocket. It was a small photograph of him, Alluka, Gon, Kurapika, and Leorio. The only family member he loved and never betrayed him, and his very first friends. He fought the tears back and put the photograph back inside the pocket. At the small table beside him, he noticed his two yo-yos.

"There's no need for them now," he thought. "After all, there's no point anymore. No purpose."

The door to his room opened and a young nurse entered, pushing a small cartwheel inside the room. She had chocolate brown hair caught in a messy bun. The young nurse looked tired, with black circles under her eyes. Once she fully entered the room and took notice of Killua being awake, her expression changed to one of surprise.

"Good morning, young man, how are you feeling?" She asked with a small smile while checking the IV. "The kid shouldn't be up for about six hours," she thought. She looked over Killua to see if the kid was okay since he didn't give her an answer.

Brown eyes locked with blue eyes. A chill ran down the nurse's spine. The kid's eyes were empty of any kind of emotion, they were cold. There was nothing other than emptiness and coldness in his eyes.

Killua was the one to break the eye contact. Her brown eyes reminded him of Gon, his very first and best friend. Unfortunately, her eyes reflected fear the moment they met his. Reminding him who he was and that he was able to only cause pain. Fear, anger, and disappointment toward him, were familiar to him and he had learned to accept them. Or rather, had accepted them, because once he became accepted for who - what he was, this also became unfamiliar. Therefore, he couldn't stand the nurse's eyes that were filled with fear toward him. He had forgotten how to overlook it, ignore it. So, he simply looked away to the window and let his thoughts travel back to what had happened. His expression though was devoid of any emotion, just like his eyes. He didn't show his sadness, his anger, or his fear, he kept it away, hidden, after all that was one of the first skills he mastered. To hide his emotions.

"Young man, we need to change your bandages," the nurse told him, her voice was soft and low, close to being gentle, and she had almost hidden her fear perfectly. But, Killua was a trained assassin, therefore the trembling in her voice was obvious to him.

He simply nodded to the nurse, still looking away, looking outside to nothing specific. Thinking about what he was supposed to do next.