*twelve*

Another year. Running away again. The Hunter Exam. Gon.

And then back home. Fear. Guilt.

I let him down.

I know I can't forgive myself for what I've done.

Maybe I should kill myself, die by my own bloodstained hands before they take another innocent life, but I can't do that. It's not my desire for life, or even my natural (trained) self-preservation. There's a limit to how much I can hurt myself. I've felt it so many times, alone in the places where I can't even find myself and no one knows where I am. When the risk is too great, I can't go forward. I think of nothingness, and I can't make the final movement. I'll never be free.

I'm twelve, but what does that mean? What would I be like if I was normal? I can't even think about those things anymore. It hurts to imagine.

I don't have to remember. All I have to do is kill.

I know now how to exist without thinking, without remembering, only blood in my past and only darkness in my future. I'm an assassin. It's what I was born to do. My destiny. I can't be happy doing anything else.

I've forgotten what it's like to not be happy. I live in a fog of empty happiness.

Then Gon comes back, and blows the fog away.

Is this really what I wanted? Maybe it would have been better to forget what I've done. Better to go back. They would still take me back. They love me.

Someday, I will return to that place. The only place I'll ever truly belong.

For now, I'm happy to be with Gon.