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THIS STORY IS DISCONTINUED. I had a lot of ideas while writing this but nothing really turned out the way I wanted it to, resulting in an epic writers block and loss of motivation. This was only published because I had already spent so much time writing it.

Sorry if you actually liked the story and would have liked to read more.

Anyways, here are two scenes that survived my multiple waves of spontanously deleting stuff.

If you couldn't guess it, the first scene would have happened in the heaven's arena arc.

The second one is from the chamira ant arc, and I think you deserve to know that I really wanted to let Aph die and let everyone else suffer. What is it with wanting to kill your favourite characters?

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1.

You can't see the stars in big citys.

The lights are just too bright and the stars too far away, so the little twinkles of light end up being too weak.

Aph knew that, but it was still astonishing everytime. When she looked out the window, up from the extra matress they had crammed into the boys' room in between their beds, she saw one solid colour in the night sky. The only specks of brightness came from street lamps below the room, or the busier streets a bit further away. Heaven's arena stood tall, not that far away.

"Aph."
"Huh?"

She blinked at the window in confusion. Once she recovered from suddenly being pulled out of thoughts, she looked at Killua, who layed on his bed with his arms beneath his head. Eyes closed, and for once completely relaxed, he almost looked asleep, if it wasn't for him continuing to speak.

"Let's go shopping."
"Why?" She turned her whole body to face him and was greeted by a judging glance out of the corner of his eye.
"Have you taken a look at yourself? You're worse than Gon."

She looked down at her cheap neon pink tank top with ripping seams and grey shorts that used to be sweatpants but got cut off in summer. Somewhere thrown at the end of the matress were the mismatched stocking and worn down black hoodie. Her shoes covered in duct tape and dirt and the plastic backpack were all spread across the floor.
"I don't know what you mean."

Killua was already standing up.
"Come on, let's go. I need at least one other person here that doesn't look like a clown."
"Aren't shops closed at this time?" She sat on the end of of the matress while trying to pull both stockings up her legs at the same time, toes getting caught in the many rips while doing so.

"Not in this area. Hurry up."
"Killua the fashion police."
"I will steal your pinkys."
"Would love to see you try. And I think Gon's outfit is cute."
"Nani?"
"It's cute."
"No. No it's not. It's a disgrace to humanity."
"It makes him look all jumpy and tiny!"
"Well that's not the look we're going for."
"What are we going for then?"
"Lawful evil."
"Seriously? I prefer chaotic neutral."
"But those green shorts scream chaotic good."
"Totally."

Aph zoomed left to right while picking up her shoes and bag, then carefully fixed the sleeping Gon's blanket. The whispered discussions continued until they finally left the hotel room.

Suddenly, Aph gasped and immediatly tripped over her own feet. Killua snorted and took the opportunity to lightly kick her side.
"What?"
"That's right! I can go shopping now! I have money from the matches!"
"Have you never had any money?"
"Shut up, rich boy. Most people don't live in a mansion on the mountain they own."
"Most people also need money to survive. How have you managed?"
"I have my ways."
"Weirdo."
"Furry."
"Idiot."
"Zolweenie."

Killua showed a cat-like grin. "Hag."
"Why you little-" He was pulled into a headlock with knuckles rubbing his scalp.
"Hands off my hair!"
"WE COULD BE THE SAME AGE, YOU LITTLE FASHIONISTA!"

»montage of a long, chaotic shopping trip in the middle of the night with two sleep deprived teenagers«

"Can I get the rainbow glitter one?"
"No."
"Yes."

"Try that on."
"I'll look like a caterpillar."

"These won't fit."
"Just squeeze."
"I can't exactly squeeze my bone structure."
"Then break it."
"Sure! Let me just break my hips to fit into some ugly jeans!"

"No no no. We are not getting you stockings."
"Yes we are. You can't stop me."

"Well that looks terrible."
"You're the one that picked it out, stupid!"
"I never said something different!"

"Hey look at this- ouch..."
"Did you just run into a wall?"
"... Maybe."

"I said. We are not getting you any."
"Don't try to supress my unique glammor, it's useless."

"It has to be a black hoodie."
"But why? There are so many more options."
"Warm, comfy, you can pull on the strings and morph into another creature, you can easily chew on the collar and it's just great!"
"Then why is it black?"

"I can't believe I let you buy them..."
"You have no power over me, mortal."

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It took three hours and whole lot of fighting, but the two finally set down on a bench with some warm waffles. Shopping bags stood by their feet.

"I've never been this exhausted..." Aph stuffed her mouth with a piece, getting powdered sugar to cover her lips.
"My sanity is still squished somewhere in a shoe..."

They ended up finding an outfit that satisfied both of them. It was the exact same hoodie Aph was wearing at the moment, just not years old. A forest green plaid skirt with black bikershorts underneath, paired with some black boots could only be bought after Killua won a round of thumb wrestling.

The one think Killua was close to burning was the pair of stockings, or rather, the pairs, because appearently matching them would be a crime and they had to be different. One was a solid dark yellow colour and the other striped white and black

"Killua?" The boy turned to her, hair tousled and cheeks stuffed with waffle. A bit of sugar stuck to his cheek as her swallowed.
"What?"
"Thanks."

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2.

A dying Hunter.

Strong fighters, quick thinkers, sucessful people. That was what a Hunter was seen as. That was what they were supposed to be, what she was supposed to be. Someone to get up after getting beaten down and left to rot, someone to never give up and carry their pride over anything else.

Was she really a Hunter?

She was nobody. She had always been. She came and went, visting, seeing, leaving. Like a whisp of air swaying back and forth, until it hits a bigger wind and sweeps off like it never was there in the first place. Hanging around just because she didn't happen to die yet.

She was nothing but the blink of an eye, one of the thousands of blinks every eye makes daily. Soon she would be gone, and people would forget.

A nobody.

A nobody with weird nicknames, colourful clothes and a scratching habit.

The license bent under the last efforts of a clenched fist. It was a piece of plastic, glorified and desired. A small card, clutched in the fist of a dying person, blood and dirt and sweat and bile covering the colours. It was so useless. It was just plastic. Meaningless to the universe, unsignificant to the gods. A joke to all the lives lost trying to live up to the title.

Aph wasn't a Hunter.

Aph was a girl with a piece of plastic. A child bleeding out at the hands of an animal. Someone's daughter who never knew a home, never wanted to hold on.

And there she layed, drenched in her own blood and face drowning in mud, muscles numb and useless. On the forest floor, under the moon taking pity on her.

'What have I even been doing...'

She was cold. So, so cold. Yet her body refused to shiver.

'I didn't want any of this...'

The red liquid kept pouring out of her wounds. It was supposed to pump through her veins, warm and thick and steady and keeping her alive. Still, it poured out just like that. Like even her own blood didn't feel the need to make her stay.

'When did I start living for other people?'

Skin that used to have a vibrant dark honey colour was slowly turning grey as she moved her arms. It was a slow, painful process.

'Is this really it?'

There was dirt in her mouth. The taste was almost calming, like mother nature was cradling her small form. She didn't have the energy to spit it out, instead focusing it on pushing herself up.

'This is pathetic...'

The dirt beneath her hands had turned slippery. It was hard, but she couldn't let herself fall. She had to keep going. She had to turn around.

'Ah... I named myself after a godess...'

It hurt as her back finally crashed back down.

'Aphrodite... What was she even like? I don't remember...'

Dark spots disturbed her sight. Behind them, the sky stretched out. Glowing, blurry dots decorating the darkness. The silver moon stood still, silent. There was dirt in her eyes but she couldn't wipe it.

'I just liked the name.'

A painful noise echoed through her chest. Wet sobs mixed with a dry laugh, combining into a heart-wrenching song of helplessness. It ebbed through the pale, crusted over lips with what little air could still escape her lungs.

'I won't make this. I'd need a miracle.'

The blurry spots got bigger, soon dissapearing completely. They took over the surrounding trees, covered the stars and moon. She was left staring at the unidentifiable specks of light and dark.

'Miracles aren't real.'

A single, cold tear slipped from her bloody eye. It trickled down the temple, tickling behind her ear before dropping. It landed on the dirt, mixing itself into the sickly thick blood and dissapearing in the dirt.

'I'm sorry...'

'Gon...'

'Killua...'

The Hunter license was silent as it fell from the grasp. Through the slippery fingers, onto the deep red grass, already forgotten.

In the end, nothing matters in the eyes of the gods. Your name will be forgotten where they left your body.

The rapidly approaching footsteps weren't acknowledged as her pupils lost focus.

THANK YOU FOR READING