"I decided were going to the Kuro clan to take the shadow sword.."

Killua was a trained assassin, adept in the skill of a swift reaction time before his opponents could ever hope to harm him. But the one-time Killua meets back with Gon after two years of separation, someone manages to knock him off guard. Now trapped inside of a strange world, in a crazy hero-oriented city dubbed Musutafu, Killua must adapt to this universe to make his way back to the people he loves. But emotions can get muddy; morals and goals can skew. What can the ex-assassin do when he begins to become content with his new life? Note: I began writing this story when I was 14. I'm 16 now, and so because of this my writing style has greatly improved. If you find the beginning chapters cringe I'm so sorry 😭

The world is not black and white. It is not grey, nor is it anywhere close to monochrome. The world was made of rainbows. Beautiful, terrifying rainbows. Killua Zoldyck knew these things, even if he hadn't, at first. And yet, even as he knew these things, he still managed to see his life through the bleak eyes of one who knew only death and pain. Because Killua, before learning of colors, was taught to fade into- to become- the darkness. Then Gon had arrived, bringing with him a plethora of yellows and blues and green- so much green- and Killua lost sight of the darkness. For a moment, it receded into the background. But only for a moment. Killua didn't want to lose his memories of the colors, but he did wonder if things would have been easier if he'd just gone along with the life laid out before him. The fear of losing the colors was what made them painful in the first place, but Killua couldn't help it. Once he'd seen them, he could never forget, even as their absence reverberated through his soul. The rain was grey. Soft, and light, but grey. A different shade than the one he'd grown up with, but still, grey had always brought him so much suffering. Would it stop, if he stopped struggling against it? In any case, Killua's world had disappeared, in the rain, and when he'd opened his eyes, the rain was bluer than he remembered. Pellets creating a barrage instead of droplets that melted on his cheeks. For a while, he returned to the shadows. When he finally emerged, he heard whispers of heroes and villains, of vigilantes. Of quirks. Killua knew far too much for his age, yet at the same time, far too little. But one thing he did know was that he did not want glory, he did not want fame or money. Killua wanted the colors, the fun, the laughter. And he'd do anything to get it. Now, remember one thing: Killua Zoldyck is not a villain. But he is far from a hero. *This fanfiction is inspired by other works of the genre; see the first page

"We had to drug him..." His fuzzy mind couldn't keep up with what those strange people were saying. "We had to use tons of drugs to sedate him!" said one of the strangers, he wanted to open his eyes but they were so heavy, he couldn't even move or talk. 'What are they doing to me?' Killua thought in desperation. "This kid isn't normal, I don't even am sure if he's from here..." continued another stranger. Killua slowly began to open his eyes. Where was he? Who were those people... with capes and strange costumes? "WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO THIS KID IS ILLEGAL! If the police knew, they would probably take your hero license..." Another man tried to explain the group of heroes gathered around the hospital bed. "We only want to know if he is dangerous to society. This kid is a complete mystery" One from the group of heroes explained. Welcome to the nasty part of the hero society. -THE COVER ISN'T MINE- (Credits to the author) All the rights to Yoshihiro Togashi (My first fiction) (Bad grammar...)