A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I did warn you. Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed! I'm still kind of trying to figure this out, so if you have any ideas you would like to see play out (no romance please) don't hesitate to say so in your reviews! Once again, I own nothing.

Killua tailed the group around the city, taking caution to stay hidden. He doubted assassins stupid enough to openly talk about their plans in public were skilled enough to detect him, but he of all people knew that actions and appearances were deceiving. His own best friend, Gon, seemed innocent and naive to the point of disbelief, and constantly said and did things that would make Killua question if he had a death wish, but on the inside he was clever, wholeheartedly stubborn, ambitious, trusting, and extremely powerful. Despite not having much of a moral compass(which was fortunate, considering Killua's home life), Gon always succeeded in following through with whatever he was set on doing.

He had learned from his friend not to judge people to quickly, and he was applying those thoughts now. He followed the group into a back street, and one of the students, a...boy?...with blue pigtails, stiffened and sharply turned around. Instantly, Killua was behind a nearby house. From his hiding spot, he heard the kids talking.

"Nagisa?" said a voice, and Killua recognized it as the small green haired girl's. "What's wrong?"

"I… I thought I just…" came a second voice. Killua hadn't heard it before, bus he assumed from the far away tone that this was 'Nagisa'. Did he sense me?

"Spit it out, Nagisa." The red head.

"It's nothing. I just thought I felt like there was someone else here… you know, like someone was watching me."

"Creepy" replied a girl's voice.

After a short pause, a rough sounding voice Killua recognized as belonging to the bleached blonde guy broke the silence. "Come on, guys, we gotta go"

Killua waited for a few seconds after he heard their footsteps fade to reveal himself. Nagisa… he'd have to be careful of that kid. The only way his presence could have been any more concealed is if he was using Zetsu to suppress his Nen, but obviously that didn't work in this world. He hadn't noticed it before, with the overwhelming aura of the red headed kid directing messy bloodlust in every direction, but despite this Nagisa's quiet personality, Killua could sense something inside of him. Something dangerous. It wasn't bloodlust, per say, more like… a desire to win. If bloodlust was a volcano that could erupt at any time, than this was the poisonous fumes that accompany such an eruption.

Killua's train of thought was broken when he sensed a large group of people. Curious, he stepped into the middle of the street to block their path. A group of six older kids approached him from a ¼ mile or so away. Based on appearance, they were all around 17, but he could tell just from their walk that they were ready for a fight, stiffly but confidently prowling the streets. He looked behind him to see the middle school students from earlier pass into a nearby alley. What to do? Should he follow them or should he take care of the older guys, who had spotted him and were now stalking towards him with purpose.

His question was answered for him when the tallest of the group stopped a few feet in front of Killua's feet.

"Hey, look," said the man, an ugly smile splitting his face, "it's a middle schooler." He took in Killua's clean layered shirts, shorts, and shoes. He didn't quite understand what could possibly be so interesting about his outfit. He was wearing his usual sneakers, with a pair of his usual baggy shorts. Rather than his usual purple turtleneck and T-shirt combo, he had his black turtleneck with the many white strips of fabric wrapped around his arms, the clothes he used to wear whenever he left the house for a job. It was like the Zoldyck family's uniform, the straps on the arms, but Killua had always just found it annoying and a bit pointless.

"Is this kid loaded? What's with the sashes?" asked one of the guys.

"He's probably swimming in cash, up on his high horse, looking down at us commoners" sneered the one in front of him, who Killua assumed was the leader. Killua sighed. He honestly hated it when people emphasised class division. His family was extremely rich, enough so that they owned multiple large properties on their own mountain, as well as the highest caliber of servants, and enough leftover money to get basically anything they wanted. He was a member of the legendary family of assassins, after all. It was true, but he never quite understood why that was so different from the lower classes. In fact, Killua was sure that almost everyone lived the same, either way. He paid for his wealth with literal torture, from a young age. He was shocked, whipped, poisoned, drowned, cut, squeezed, and stretched until it no longer fazed him, psychologically controlled by his older brother with a kill or run mentality, and although he was completely fine with it and had never felt any injustice or harsh feelings towards his parents for doing so, Killua could not fathom why poor people thought they had it the worst. He couldn't care less what they thought about the division of money. If people are so concerned about their social standing, they should try living like him for a day.

"Idiot. How can I be looking down on someone so microscopic I can't even see them?" Killua inquired, smirking at the group's faces. They were all red as tomatoes with rage. He couldn't help himself. He laughed. One of the boys lunged for him, and Killua let him grab his shirt.

"Listen, you little punk, you better shut up before I kill you!"

Killua raised an eyebrow. This was getting irritating, and he'd lose the group of middle schoolers if this went on much longer. His eyes flashed, and the older boy let go of his shirt and backed away. He slowly walked forward, not even bothering to reign in his bloodlust as he stepped in front of their petrified leader. He raised his hand, and with a little manipulation it was sharper than any knife. Killua poised his fingers at the leader's neck, taking in the trembling boy as blood beaded on his middle finger. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. Killua let his arm fall and return to normal as he silently walked through the group. It wouldn't be a good idea to go around killing people in a strange dimension where he didn't know the rules. He had a feeling that doing so would result in questions, questions he definitely wouldn't be able to answer. When Killua reached the other side of their little clump, the leader cursed in frustration and they took off running. Right into the alley where the middle schoolers had disappeared minutes ago.