The assassin's code

By MizuTenshi

Disclaimer: I almost forgot one of these! It shows you just how long it's been since I wrote anything. Well, Hunter X Hunter does not belong to me in any way.

My first HXH fic! Just a little thing about Killua when he was young, after he left the Sky tower at the age of six. Please give it a try, it is my first HXH fic after all.

(Killua's POV)

Everyone says father spoils me, I am the heir after all. Everyone says father is too lenient with me and that is why I rebel. They don't know that when father's angry his rage is worse than a charging rhinoceros.

He starts by calling me a disgrace, telling me I'll never inherit the family business the way I am now. He then proceeds to lecture me, running through certain rules of the assassin's code. After he's bored me to death; that's when the 'punishment' begins.

I remember the first time I got the full-blown lecture from him. Yes, that's right, he actually made me sit through all three hundred and twenty eight rules of the assassin's code. (Actually he had me put in chains and gagged me.) I was only six and he had not seen me for two years yet he was cold enough to make me sit and listen to his lecture - and Milluki has the nerve to call me spoiled!

It was late. I remember walking down the deserted streets, the spire of the Sky tower gently reclining in the distance. The stars were out, shining like diamonds across the vast blue canvas of the night's sky. They danced around the moon, casting a silver shadow on the silent road. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tower chimed for midnight.

It took two years for me to get to the one hundred and ninety-ninth floor. Really, I was meant to reach the two hundredth but I had had enough and I was sure that father would understand. To tell the truth, I was not really planning on going home immediately. Going home would mean more assassination and I really could not be bothered - I'm a really messy killer and mother always moans when I get bloodstains on my clothes. Besides, I had several hundred thousand Zeni of hard earned cash to spend and I certainly was not sharing my prize with that fat pig, Milluki.

Anyway, so where was I? Oh yeah! So I was walking down, staring at the black chewing gum spots that adorned the tree-choked street with only the faint wind rustling my hair for company and dreaming of the different cakes I could buy with so much money when I heard it - an anguished yell.

There's this nice cake shop near Kukulu Mountain. The person there sells fruitcake, cheesecake, chocolate cake, those cakes with the swirls insides, any kind of cake imaginable. It's a small place and the smell of freshly baked pastry and fresh cream always exudes from the windows and attracts many customers most of which are too poor to be killed by my family. Every month there's always a fresh layer of paint over the sign, it looks great compared to the shops next to it, one of which is a butcher's and the other belongs to a creepy old man who claims that he makes fantasies come true. Yeah right, I went to his shop once and found uniforms for maids, nurses and stewardesses but not a single bar of chocolate. How can anyone fantasise without chocolate and looking like they've just come back from work?

Wait! I'm meant to be talking about the time I came back from the Sky tower, right? Sorry, my mind wanders sometimes.

Anyway, back to the point, my ears perked up at the sound of someone's suffering. Being curious by nature, I decided to check it out. I could detect the sound emitting from a few streets away but I could not quite pinpoint the source yet I was determined to see what was going on. Tugging the straps of my rucksack tighter, I set off at a fast pace down the streets, following the sounds of yelling and screaming. As I got near I could hear gruff voices and crashes as bodies hit something hard.

I was sure that I was pretty near the source that had peeked my curiosity when a sudden darkness came over the town, and the streets seemed to rise and the buildings moved, forming an elaborate maze of bricks...okay, okay, so that didn't really happen...I got lost.

The neon digits of my watch told me I had been running for about twenty minutes when I came to an abrupt stop. (Actually, I ran into someone.) I staggered back at the force of crashing into a figure obviously bigger and possibly stronger than I was. I leapt back immediately, changing the shape of my fingers into sharp claws - that's rule five of the assassin's code - always be prepared.

The person I had run into turned out to be one of the Mafia. I recognised the black suit, the spit-and-polish black shoes and sunglasses that seemed to be regulation uniform for them. He was large, perhaps even bigger than Goto, with a pistol by his side still lying in its holster. His three companions leered at me, towering over me with menacing looks. I raised my claws ready to fight, using every delayed second as a chance to assess each opponent. They were stronger than I was but I was probably more skilful - skill can outmatch strength.

I thought that they really were going to fight me. I readied myself. I could feel the tension in the air, the uneasy peace that could shatter at the drop of a feather.

"Ah! You're Silvia's boy, aren't you?" one of the four oafs exclaimed, recognition finally lighting his dumb face.

Just like that, the menace they held dissipated, ascending into the sky like ghosts.

My father must have worked for them at one point, he must have done a lot of jobs for them, otherwise they would never have been able to know that I was his son, knowledge like that can be used against us. The assassin's rule number ten sates: Knowledge is the first thing needed for a successful assassination.

"Hey, boy, how about it? Want some fun?" the first man, the one I bumped into, grinned at me and pointed towards the floor.

I had been mildly aware of the presence of more than four people but they had not seemed threatening so I had dismissed them from my mind. I know turned for a better look.

A boy, perhaps about my age, six, sat embraced by his father's comforting arms. His father sat too, his face was heavily bruised and his suit was in tatters. Blood leaked from where the two sat - the sharp, distinctive smell of hot blood reached my nose. It was an all too familiar scent and reminded me of home.

"Do you want to kill them for us? I'll let you have the boy if you want."

The little boy recoiled at those words. His light blue eyes were full of fear and a hatred for the men, a hatred that now included me.

I stared at them but I did not move. Looking back on it now, I can say that I had no desire to kill them, not because they were weak opponents but because I simply did not wish to kill them. I remembered then the third rule of the assassin's code - money is to be paid in advance.

"That's right!" a second man exclaimed, seemingly picking up on my thoughts. "You only kill for money, right?" He dug into the vast depths of his pockets, producing a large wad of cash. "Take it, take it and kill the boy. The father will eventually bleed to death. Take it," he coaxed, "it's a short-notice job."

I remember thinking, what would me father think? As long as I was paid I was sure that he wouldn't mind but I already had more money than I ever had in my life.

The father and son sat quivering yet they did not try to escape - they knew that it was hopeless. I never got to find out why they were being hunted by the Mafia. I gave them one quick glance and stepped forward. My arm outstretched and I accepted the money, pocketing it quickly I turned back to the family of father and son.

Rule one of the assassin's code is as follows: once a job is accepted it must be completed. Illumi told me, that when a job is accepted it is not just your life but the reputation and pride of an individual assassin and his or her family that is on the line, therefore, do not accept a job unless you are sure that you can kill your opponent. Well, I would have no trouble killing a little boy and the rules did say I had to follow the job through.

I never liked living by the rules.

The father was gravely injured. That stupid second man was right, he would eventually bleed to death. His internal injuries were too bad but the boy was another matter. I could kid myself and tell myself that the Mafia men were paying to see the masterful art of a Zaoldyeck kill but in truth, they only wanted the vicious pleasure of seeing a minor kill another. It made me sick. All killing should be free of emotion, morals and prejudices - that was number seven of the assassin's code but like I said, I never liked living by the rules.

I took another step towards the two. The father embraced his son tighter with what little strength he had left - I really had to admire his courage. Another step and then I broke out into a charge. My claws retracted and I grabbed the boy, seizing him by the waist, I ran off with a dopey grin and my tongue sticking out at the stupid men I had left behind. The boy in my arms was in a daze. I wasn't really sure what I was doing either but whatever it was it felt great!

Naturally, when I eventually returned to Kukulu Mountain, father had already been informed of what I had done and boy, was he angry. Like I said, his anger is worse than a charging rhinoceros. I was punished for 'Not reaching the two hundredth floor, putting the relationships with the Mafia in danger and gross disregard of the code' but it was worth it.

Father is right. I am a rebel. I am a disgrace. I neglect the code, I help others for nothing and I do things my way but that's my life and, one day, I'll be find that code and rewrite it - I won't make it so damn long for one. I'll put in something good for a change. The first rule will be - only kill those who cause other's suffering.

The assassin's code - Killua's version. I like the sound of that.

Finished! I'm not sure if that was too long. It was pretty pointless and not funny at all but hey, I just thought I'd crawl out from that rock I live under to write something new. I know, he's a hunter but I thought I'd write about Killua as an assassin was all. Please R&R.