This story begins late in the Heavens Arena Arc and will continue past the Greed Island Arc. Flashbacks are obviously before that timeline. Italics are used for flashbacks with regular font as inner thoughts. During current events italics are used for inner thoughts, emphasis during speech, or special words that are italicized in the show (nen, etc.)

Her breath came in deep but short bursts while her heart tried its best to slow its speedy pace. She was standing triumphantly over her sensei for the first time in their three years of training. It seemed fitting that it would be today, her 18th birthday, that she would finally best the strongest swordsman in her village. She held out her hand and pulled him up, both of them grinning ear to ear. He brushed her bangs off her sweaty forehead.

"Outstanding, Akimi-chan." he said and pat her head lightly. Akimi blushed and bowed her head slightly trying to hide her own pride.

"Thank you, Sakurai-sensei." She bowed further in gratification.

Sakurai-sensei chuckled, "Relax, Akimi, and be proud. You are a strong swordsman now." He bowed slightly and left the courtyard, heading east toward his favorite meditation location in the woods. Akimi let out a deep breath and allowed her accomplishment to wash over her. She squealed quietly and threw her fist in the air before collecting herself and taking in her surroundings, making sure no one was watching. With a smirk still on her face she headed toward the spirit temple for her daily prayers.

The temple was empty, as it always was during her prayers. The knowledge of why put a slight damper on her spirits. She lit a candle and placed it on the shrine before her calling to the spirits of her village. She would spend the next hour meditating and asking forgiveness for the past. It was a penance she was forced to pay for transgressions of her childhood.

Akimi did not know how much time had passed but she knew it hadn't yet been an hour. She usually came out of her deep hypnosis at the same time every day, but this day she was pulled out of it. Her mind was coming back to the present, still cloudy, when she heard screaming. Her eyes shot open.

She put a hand on her katana and stood immediately, turning toward the door of the temple. Just as she did it slid open revealing a swordsman with his weapon drawn. Akimi saw that it was drenched in blood. Looking behind him she could see the desolation of her village and the bodies deposited behind him. She asked no questions before attacking. She ran forward but stopped suddenly, just barely missing the lightening-fast strike of her enemy's sword slicing toward her neck. She jumped back, afraid.

He's impossibly fast, she thought but quickly amended, no, not impossible... he must be... Yes. She was sure that his use of nen was what gave him his enhanced speed. She felt real fear then. She had been forbidden to use her abilities for ten years, how would she fair against this man? She tried to calm herself but the stranger gave her no time. He jolted forward in a blur. Her eyes could just barely follow the movement. She jumped to the side while deflecting his attack at the last possible moment but he turned with her striking at her repeatedly. It took all of her energy just to deflect him in time. The rate at which her energy was draining told her she needed to escape.

Hopping backward she tried to position herself to exit the temple door. Five meters. Two meters. She was still backing away blocking volley after volley when her foot backed into something. In her frenzied attempt to survive she tripped backward and landed hard on the deck outside. In her fall she could not block properly and the enemy sword dived cleanly into her shoulder. Akimi experienced a searing pain she hadn't felt in so long. But she could not focus on the pain. She could only focus on what had caused her to trip. On what she didn't notice before.

The body she had seen earlier was small. So small. The face was contorted in fear and broke her into pieces. Ototo... her body began to shake with rage and agony and her heart felt as though it had stopped. Her body involuntarily released her nen before she had decided to do so. It rippled across her body in a familiar cloak of power and protection. Her enemy raised an eyebrow and pulled his sword from her shoulder, wary about what was going to happen next.

Akimi rushed him, faster than before, her body moving with speed to match his. Now he was deflecting attacks with no time to counter as she pushed him toward the shrine. He was gritting his teeth against her sudden savagery and caught her sword with his, holding them both in position. Akimi pushed harder and felt herself overtaking him but he was experienced. He used her momentum and crouched suddenly letting her body fall forward and before she could catch herself his shoulder caught her stomach and he threw her backward.

Her back hit the wall and she braced herself just in time as she fell headfirst toward the floor. Suddenly, he was above her, striking downward with his sword. She caught the blade and deflected it toward the wall she had just crashed into. In the split second it took him to pull his sward from the wood she rolled to the side and jumped away, her sword meeting the flesh in his side as she did so, feeling the satisfying warmth of his blood spraying on her face. She landed a body's length away.

He let out a small grunt and turned toward her angrily. She smiled, smearing blood from her cheek to her neck, "Blood Bath." She whispered. Her enemy's face faltered and her smile widened with malice. She could feel his nen flowing into her just as he could feel himself growing weaker. During his confusion she used her extra strength to attack. Her sword came down hard in a deceptively direct hit and he blocked it with too much of his strength. Lashing out with her leg Akimi hit his wound again. She hit twice; once with her knee and again with her shin. She jumped back quickly, feeling more nen rush through her.

Fatigue was beginning to show on her opponent. Each hit she landed not only gave him pain but it also drained his strength. His stance was wider in an attempt to keep himself upright and his grip on his katana seemed loose. Die thought Akimi as she rushed forward once again. Before she could reach him a frighteningly large man barreled through the temple door to stand just in front of the swordsman. This man looked like an animal in human form. Akimi held back, taking in this new threat.

She could tell he was immensely strong. He was much stronger than the other man, many times stronger than her, and was wielding two clubs.

"Sorry I'm late," he addressed the swordsman with an earnest, apologetic tone. His stance was protective. So, murderers have friends Akimi thought with disgust. She thought about her little brother, killed in cold blood by these comrades. They cared what happened to each other but had no regard for those feelings in other people. No feelings about the children they killed and who loved them.

For the first time during battle Akimi let out a violent scream. She bolted toward the pair pleased to see that she was faster than the big one clad in furs. She feinted left and right before using her speed to slide under his legs, her sword slicing his calf while her left leg tripped the swordsman. She wiped the blood from her sword on her wrist and felt an influx of the most powerful aura she had ever witnessed. She could see his anger and confusion.

The power contained inside her wanted to be released and she obliged. Like a bullet she headed toward the club wielder and slashed the first club he used in defense. It splintered in half and he threw it aside with an angry grunt, swinging his other club at her. She sidestepped to dodge while sheathing her sword. She took the club and, calling on his nen inside of her, threw it to the side taking him with it. He flew into his comrade and they both broke through the temple wall. She reached down to draw her sword again when she found she couldn't move.

She tried to turn her head, tried even to blink, but could do neither. There were footsteps coming from behind her and a chill went up her spine. She was completely at the mercy of her attacker. He appeared on her right walking slowly until he stopped in front of her. He had a cross tattooed on his forehead and an open book in his right hand. His face was serene as it studied her.

"You're an interesting one," he said, "You don't seem to have the same abilities as the others." His eyes found her sword and he nodded in approval. "None of the others had weapons on them."

Akimi wanted to spit in his face but she couldn't move her mouth. "This ability won't let you speak unless I ask you a question." As he said this, the two men she had been battling returned through the hole they'd made.

The large one with the fur loincloth advanced on her, "I don't know what you did to me but I'm going to crush you-" he stopped speaking when the tattooed man held up his hand, maintaining eye contact with Akimi.

"What did you do to them?" he asked her.

"I threw them through a wall," she said smugly, defiantly. He chuckled.

The swordsman spoke, "She stole our nen." he seemed to have recovered more than would be expected. These guys were more dangerous than she originally thought.

"I was right, you do have different abilities." The tattooed man said. He held his chin in contemplation for a moment before asking, "Why don't you join us?" The two men behind him looked confused but did not question him.

"No." Akimi snarled.

"You're very strong to have held your own against Nobunaga and Uvogin. I suspect though, that you wouldn't have lasted much longer had I not intervened." Her reaction was disgust but her face could not show it. "If you come with us you'll be able to use and hone your abilities."

Akimi's vision blurred slightly. Yes, a part of her whispered. Her body had been void of nen for so long before this night. She finally felt whole and although her allegiance and love for her clan would never falter, a darker element within her resented their confinement of her. She had been trapped for so many years. Within herself, within the village. They never understood her, never trusted her.

"Would you join us?" The man asked again. She knew he could sense her hesitation. He had given her time to think before asking the question, knowing she struggled with herself.

Her face looked pained. No matter how imprisoned she may have felt, the knowledge that this group had killed her little brother would never fade. A tear rolled down her cheek. She knew this would mean her death, "No." She said, closing her eyes.

"Well, that's a shame." he said, "Omokage, will you do this one as well?" Akimi's eyes shot open. What did that mean? The other two men had left the temple and a man with long, silver hair took their place.

"You need to think of her for me to create it." the silver-haired man spoke plainly. They turned to look at each other and nen flared around them. If she hadn't been paralyzed, the image before her would have rendered her immobile. A perfect image of her began to manifest from the nen. No, not an image, it was her. It was a three-dimensional, solid, doppleganger.

The men broke eye contact, "Should I complete the doll?" Omokage asked.

"Yes," the tattooed man smiled. He turned to Akimi, "If you want to be complete again, come find us." he said before closing is book and turning to walk away.

She could feel her muscles again but was still unable to move. Her confusion and fear swallowed her as she stared into the black holes of her doppleganger. It advanced on her and stared directly into her eyes. In one moment she blinked but she could not open her eyes again. She tried and still they would not open. Her hands reached toward her face and slowly they drifted upward. They began to shake as she was beginning to understand what the tattooed man meant. But she had to be sure. Her hands finally reached their goal.

She pulled her hands away and threw up. Her eyes were gone. She was left with two frighteningly empty sockets.

Akimi awoke with a thin sheen of sweat covering her. She seemed to always have that dream before a match which meant she would keep having them so long as she continued battling in Heavens Arena. It was an agonizing memory, but she used it to fuel herself. It had been four years since that day and each day since she had done everything she could to become stronger. When she was strong enough she would find the Phantom Troupe, as she now knew them to be.

She reached under her pillow for her chokuto and the feel of its enameled casing helped her heartbeat steady. Her and Sakurai-sensei were the only the only surviving members of her clan. He had avoided the desolation at his meditation spot deep in the woods that surrounded their village. He found her in the spirit temple covered in blood and vomit, missing both of her eyes.

Grasping the sword tighter she pulled it out and brought it with her to the bathroom. The sword had been a gift from sensei a few months ago on the evening before her first match on the 200th floor. It seemed like a simple white cane typically used by the blind but twisting the handle would activate a spring that would release the blade inside. She had yet to use it during her time here for anything other than whacking her opponents until she won.

After her shower she dressed herself in her favorite clothes. She normally wore cotton undergarments for the breathability but she preferred the feel of silk clothing over anything else. She paid special attention to covering her eye sockets. Taking a white, silk head scarf she folded it meticulously into a thin strip that she laid across her eyes and tied at the back of her head in a simple knot. She donned a white dress and haori, both silk, left her feet bare, and grabbed her cane to head down to the arena. Though she was challenging a floor master and had done well in the months she'd been fighting, her match wasn't deemed exciting enough to get a prime afternoon time slot. Her lips pressed together in irritation and jabbed the down button on the elevator with more force than necessary.

As the elevator opened she tapped her cane along the floor convincingly. Akimi did not need the cane to tell her where to go. During her training Sakurai-sensei helped her develop a skill she dubbed Divinity. She could cast out her nen, much like using en, but much more subtle. She hid it well and only skilled nen users would feel her aura. When cast out, Divinity acted like an extension of herself. She could taste the ice cream smeared on the corner of someones mouth, tell how tall they were and what they weighed, feel whether they were happy or sad. More importantly, she could identify their type of aura and their maximum nen capacity. This was her most important skill during battle so long as she could maintain a distance of 15 meters.

Only a few of them know me, she thought to herself as she passed spectators on the way to the arena, but they're wary. She was already a well known fighter due to her ability to take so much abuse and remain standing. She was also ruthless in her strikes and her opponents very rarely left battle without broken bones. Although she took great pains to make sure her opponents didn't bleed, the internal damage was enough to keep most in the hospital for a few weeks. Despite her proficiency she was never one of the most likable fighters. There were no flourishes to her moves and she rarely used her nen in an interesting way. Her opponents had tops and whips and fire where she had a simple white cane.

Always the first to arrive, Akimi laid her sword in front of her and began praying to her villages spirits. "Akimi has arrived first, as usual! She doesn't put on much of a show for the fans does she?" The announcer joked and the crowd responded. There were a few people still trickling in, but most of the stands were full to capacity.

Bo-ring. He thought, watching this young woman sit so sedately on the arena floor. Having just arrived back in town he had been excited to see the blind girl that was tearing up the arena. In six months she had reached the 200th floor and now she was challenging a floor master.

"Here comes the floor master, Masaru! His fans call him Masaru the Machine or simply, the Monster! He towers over Akimi by almost a meter." The announcer was good at exciting the crowd with the urgent manner in which she spoke, "What will that mean for Akimi this round? Has she ever faced an opponent so large?"

Looking at his information sheet on the fighters it appeared she hadn't. What will that mean, indeed? He rolled up the paper and looked toward Akimi. Her lips moved slightly before she leaned forward and touched her forehead to her cane. He almost rolled his eyes. In his experience the more dramatic the gesture the weaker the person. Strong people had no need to try to impress anyone.

Akimi pulled on the strip of fabric covering her eyes before standing. He frowned. Another unnecessary show. Blind people didn't bother covering their eyes. He sighed, contemplating leaving when the referee indicated the battle would start. Masaru ran toward Akimi. I might as well stay, it'll be over soon. Masaru never fought for long preferring to incapacitate his victims and leave.

As soon as he stepped onto the fighting platform he had entered Akimi's Divinity. She felt that he was indeed much taller than her with a much more dense muscle mass. It made sense that he was also an enhancer. The high level of nen also made sense but she could feel in the inconsistency of his aura that he didn't use it well, although he would still be able to do some real damage. His clothes shifted slightly just before he began his attack.

She acclimated to his speed and jumped just has he was about to close the distance between them and brought down her cane hard on his skull. The sweet sound of breaking bone reverberated through her. Masaru grunted and turned toward her. She had landed a few meters away, "It looks like the ref has designated that a critical hit! Two points to Akimi!" Masaru pressed down on the back of his head and winced. When he pulled it away Akimi could smell the blood. Dammit! I knew he was ill-equipped with his nen but I thought he'd at least be able to protect himself! She covered her nose and tried to breathe slowly in and out of her mouth. Since the loss of her eyes the smell of blood could send her into a frenzy.

Masaru roared and concentrated nen into his fists before lurching forward once again. He was faster this time and, distracted by the blood, Akimi barely managed to avoid his strike. She crouched down at the last second. Stretching her leg out she rotated into Masaru's legs and sent him flying forward. He held his hands out in front of him to brace his fall but Akimi swung her cane down into the middle of his back making his arms give way for his face to smack the stone floor.

"That's another two points! Oh, the referee designated only a single point for that last hit." Her head turned toward the referee. She didn't have eyes to portray her irritation but her nen became more aggressive and the referee shrunk away from her. "It looks like Akimi disagrees with the ref!"

During her uncharacteristic show of irritation, Masaru grabbed the bottom of her cane and threw her with all of his force. Her cane fell out of her grasp and she flew into the wall of the arena. She climbed out of the hole immediately and landed slightly unbalanced on her feet. Her elbow was bleeding slightly. She could feel it trickle down her arm and drip off of her pinky to the floor. Masaru taunted her, bringing her cane up and down to lightly tap his hand like a thug with a baseball bat. She stepped up onto the platform and walked calmly toward him, stopping when he started moving around her in a circle. She breathed in deeply through her mouth. The second requirement for Blood Bath had been met but she didn't want to use it on such an unworthy opponent.

She sprang forward, feinting left and right, just like with Uvogin. He swung at her uselessly with her own weapon but she slid underneath him grabbing his food with her hand to propel herself upward. She grabbed her cane and used the leverage from her upswing to wrench it from his hands. His hands flailed wildly trying to find purchase on her body as she sailed through the air. She felt hands grab her hair and pull her down. Her feet hit the floor hard and she jabbed her cane into the side of his elbow forcing him to let go of her hair. As she turned to attack again his hand reached toward her. She jumped back too late and felt her silk scarf pull from her head.

Her hand flew up to her eyes with and audible smack and in her distraction Masaru kicked her, sending her flying. Her hand was jerked away from the force and she barely heard the referee announce Masaru's two points. He laughed at her and tied the scarf around his arm, "I'll keep this as a token to remember you by. You'll never see me again after this day."

She landed on her hands and knees, her hair creating a curtain around her face as it pooled on the ground. Akimi began laughing deep and dark. The smell of blood dripping from her temple seeped into her body. Her aura changed. It was no longer aggressive it was hostile. She felt Masaru's confidence waver and laughed louder swinging her head back, her hair falling behind her. The crowd fell silent and her laughter echoed eerily, reverberating down from the rafters. She could only imagine the way she looked on the big screen. Slowly she stood and faced Masaru and touched her hand to her temple. She brought the blood to her lips and let herself give in to her lust.

"Blood Bath"

She attached with more strength than she had ever used in the arena, lunching toward Masaru and reaching him in less than a second. With swift movements he had three deep wounds in his chest before he could blink. Blood sprayed on her face and dress, pouring aura into my body as it did. He tried desperately to contain the blood spilling out of him and she could feel the metallic taste of blood in her mouth as it filled his. More. I need more. She severed an artery in his leg and felt more blood spray on her waist and legs. Masaru gurgled in pain and his legs gave out. He braced himself on the floor with one hand, the other trying to stem the flow of blood leaving him. She could fele the way it pooled on the ground beneath him and ached for it.

She wiped the blood from her blade onto her haori and re-sheathed it. With a finger she pushed Masaru over and draped herself on top of him as he fell. Blood soaked through the silk and bathed her skin. She crawled up his body and laid her face on one of the wounds in his chest, "When Blood Bath is active, every ounce of blood you lose by my hand drains your nen. Every drop spilled on me increases my power." She whispered sweetly.

He couldn't respond. He was no longer conscious and could feel no pain as she dug her hand into his chest to feel his heart as it stopped beating. Abruptly, she regained control and pulled herself away. She untied her scarf from his arm and placed it back on her head slightly ashamed of herself. She stood and turned toward the referee. He announced her win by TKO and only at that moment did the audience react with an eruption of applause. That make her sick. This is what they had wanted, a crazed lunatic, and she had given it to hem. The announcer was now speaking rapidly about the match but Akimi didn't pay attention. She headed toward the tunnel.

Interesting. He thought, studying the trail of blood following Akimi toward the exit. Her haori was slick with blood and stuck to her thighs, depositing thin, red trails down her legs. He brought his hand to his mouth and found he was smiling. I didn't expect her to be so savage.

He turned to the body she left behind and all but vibrated with excitement as a surge of bloodlust made its way to his chest. In that moment he saw her turn toward his position in the stands, her face aimed directly at him. Oh? Can you see me, Akimi-chan? he chuckled to himself. She tapped her walking stick and cocked her head to the side. He thought he could just make out a smirk on her face and her change in aura let him know she was not afraid. Ohhhhh... He flexed his muscles involuntarily.

She turned toward the tunnel with her back to him in a show of confidence, or naiveté. Akimi. No other name was given and the informational brochure on the fight gave no background information on her. That wasn't too unusual but it added to the intrigue of this tiny woman with immeasurable violence contained within. Hisoka could barely contain himself. The stands had cleared significantly by the time he stood to leave. Proximity to anyone but Akimi at this moment would lead to their death.

Chokuto: a blade similar to a katana but without the curve. Akimi requires a straight blade to be hidden within her cane.

Ototo: younger brother. Some people may know, but I don't see it used very often.