hahaa I've made a terrible decision starting a new fic, especially considering how new I am to Hunter x Hunter, but what the hey when the urge strikes.
No idea when I'll update this next, to be honest. Hopefully it's okay so far with the look into my OC's life and stuff ;0; Also, if it wasn't obvious enough with the description, this'll be an eventual Kurapika/OC fic oAo
To Hibiki Folkvar, Head of the Folkvar Estate,
It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter to you. Were the circumstances different, perhaps the severity of this news would have been lessened.
Your daughter's tests have shown results similar to that of the late Kouta Folkvar. Despite all the years that have passed since he had first contracted the illness, we are unfortunately no closer to finding a way to treat it. If you allow her to continue the Folkvar traditions and training, I cannot guarantee she will make it to adulthood.
She rests her chin in her hands once she pushes the letter away, hiding it behind the pile of books at the edge of her desk. There is little point to finishing the rest of Yukari's letter. The details are the same as when her grandfather had been hit with the illness, and Hibiki suspects that the details of slowing its progression will remain the same as well.
Yukari is right, she thinks. Had something been different—had Tomoe been older—then this wouldn't hurt as much. Tomoe wouldn't be left behind while her younger siblings grew up, and the family wouldn't be sorely reminded with each passing day after that even a child is beyond saving from the illness.
The grandfather clock chimes twelve times behind her, signalling the middle of the day. Hibiki sighs deeply. She's had the letter sitting on her desk since dawn, having received it at some time during the night in their letter box, but she couldn't bring herself to open it until now. She'd known the odds of getting good news were against her favour. Hibiki leans back in her chair and looks out the window to her right, catching a glimpse of the sun shining high in the sky before a large cloud passes over it.
Kouta, her grandfather, had been the first person that the family's doctors had encountered with the sickness—and, fittingly, they'd named it after him once he passed. He'd looked as though nothing were wrong with him as the days wore on. Hibiki can remember the only change in his appearance being the increasing lack of colour to his skin each time she conversed with him, but according to Yukari a lot more had been going on with the man. She'd never noticed it at the time—too young and naive, she'd been—but now she knows exactly what's coming for her daughter.
A deathlike pallor, a searing pain in her chest, and blackouts that could last for days. If Tomoe isn't careful, she could end up with much, much worse on top of them.
She'll have to have the others checked for Folkvar Disease. Now that there's a chance that it's hereditary, she can't risk the rest of her children going through the family's training for nothing. If all they'll have is five years at best, then they're better off resting until their time has come.
"Airi," she calls out. The butler standing by the grandfather clock clears her throat.
"Yes, Madam Folkvar?"
"Tell the chefs to prepare Tomoe's favourite meal tonight. Make sure that they cook enough for everyone, the rest of the staff included, to have a plate."
Airi makes a short sound of confusion, but doesn't comment on the command. Hibiki listens as she bows and says, "Right away, Madam Folkvar," before she exits the study with quick strides.
The door shuts softly behind Airi. Not even a second Later, Hibiki smothers her face with her hands as a choked sob crawls out of her throat. Barely even thirteen, so full of excitement and hope for the opportunity to join the family business; to suddenly have it brought to a stop just as she starts to show promise? Hibiki can't think of a worse fate to be dealt.
Tomoe's training is to end after dinner, she decides. If rest is what will keep her alive longer, then rest is what she must do—even if Tomoe may come to hate her mother for forcing this decision onto her.
To the Captain of the Kaijinmaru,
You may not remember me from one of the previous Hunter Examinations, and it's because of this that I worry my message may be ignored or disregarded as asking for favouritism. My name is Masao Folkvar, an applicant from the 275th Hunter Examination, and it was your ship that took me to my destination. I was applicant #298 and I made it as far as the Fourth Phase of the examination before withdrawing due to a self-assessment of my own abilities, as per the tradition of the Folkvar family.
I write this letter to you with the hope that my sister, who wishes to partake in the examination, will be given a safe journey to the exam's location. Even if she is not seen as worthy to continue on to the exam itself, it would be an immense relief to both myself and our family if she just reaches the destination safely.
Her name is Tomoe, and she is the second daughter of the current generation of Folkvar children. If everything goes according to plan, you'll have seen her once she boarded the ship: Curly red hair, pale as a ghost, face covered in freckles. She's hard to miss. Tomoe will either have given this to you herself or given it to a crewmember. Or, if I'm unlucky, she'll have decided to read the letter herself and then throw it overboard in a fit of anger. If that's the case, then I'm sorry, Tomo; I know you want to do this alone, but you have to understand that we're all worried and a little more resistant to this decision than you are.
Captain, as her elder brother I have only one wish to ask of you. Make sure her trip is memorable, and don't let her regret the decision to leave the safety of home during her time of need. Don't treat her as an invalid if she tells you her reasoning for wanting the take the Hunter Examination.
Give her something to be proud of.
Signed,
Masao Folkvar, First Son of the Folkvar Estate
He seals the envelope and writes the Captain's name on the front. He's careful to make sure not to leave a mess behind him as he picks up the oil lamp and pockets the envelope—he absolutely hates it when his desk is a mess, and the urgency of the situation is no exception. The door to his room closes silently, barely even heard by his own ears, and then it's a few quick steps down the hall until he reaches Tomoe's room. He knocks once, softly, and waits for her to answer.
Masao may be disowned for doing this, but he feels responsible as one of the older siblings to grant Tomoe this one wish. She's done nothing but sit around for the past five years, wasting away while her siblings continued to learn the ins and outs of family business. He knows how much she hated it, and he figures now is a better time than later to let her spoil herself for once.
The door opens enough to allow a small crack to peek through, and he sees a wide, amber eye boring into him before recognition sets in. Tomoe pulls the door open further, allowing Masao to see his sister fully. He'd allowed her some time to get dressed and pack a small bag while he wrote the letter, but he can see that he should have told her what was best to wear during the examination. He's more than certain she won't get far with her yellow sweater vest and pleated black skirt, even if she wears her tights and sneakers for the sake of mobility and modesty. The white dress shirt underneath the sweater vest has a long black ribbon tied in a bow under the collar; Masao has no doubt that she'll use that ribbon to tie her hair back later instead of finding something now.
A small knapsack is slung over one shoulder, her hand dangling lazily from the strap as she beams up at Masao. "I'm really going?" she whispers excitedly.
Masao nods. He glances up and down the hall for any sign of the staff making rounds. No one seems to be approaching, and he holds out his hand for Tomoe to take. Her own cold digits wrap around his hand, and the contrasting tones of their skin serve as a stark reminder just how little time Tomoe has left regardless of how much she rests now. Compared to the sun-kissed tan of his own skin, Tomoe's has slowly receded into a sickly pale white. Every morning she'd be asked if she were alright to practice playing her violin, and she'd always laugh it off and say, "It just looks worse than it is."
He pulls her from her room as he shakes the thought from his mind, leading her towards the front of the estate with quiet footsteps. Masao can hardly hear her aside from the silent giggling she makes every time they pass one of their siblings' bedrooms. It's almost too easy to sneak her out as they pass painting after painting, room after room, until finally they make it to the foyer. Masao carefully guides Tomoe down the stairs, the light of the moon barely reaching the middle of the floor ahead of them.
The large, front door shuts behind them as he ushers her outside. Not a single light in the estate flickers on in alarm. In the hopes of saving her energy, Masao scoops his sister up into his arms and jogs in the direction of the stables.
Their family always made a point to practice the finer things in life alongside using themselves as an individual's shield—horse riding, dancing, learning instruments. Tomoe used to do all of it with her siblings, having the most energy out of everyone. In recent years, though, the task of caring for her horse has fallen to Ayaka, their eldest sister; dancing was something their mother had forbidden, lest Tomoe harm herself or push herself too far; and even now, practicing the violin, Masao has noticed that she's slowly losing her passion for it as well.
Tomoe's horse is at the far end of the stable, hidden away behind the other horses. It's not very often that they take the horses with them on jobs, but owning them and riding them has been helpful in their training over the years. Masao finds that it makes things somewhat easier on him when it comes to quick getaways.
A small squeal escapes Tomoe's throat, eliciting a quiet nicker from a brown horse to their right. "Are we taking Trouble?" she asks all at once. Masao looks over at his own horse, watching them from its spot to their left. Aurelius is one of the more tamed horses in their possession as well as the horse Masao knows will get them to the docks before it's too late to turn back around.
Trouble, on the other hand, is just as wild as Tomoe used to be. There's a good reason as to why it got the name it did. "Do you want to?" he replies.
Tomoe nods ecstatically, her crimson curls flying up and down around her shoulders. "It'll be the last time I get to ride him—for real," she says. With a sheepish laugh, she adds, "I never did like Aurelius much, either."
Aurelius snorts loudly. Tomoe snorts back at it.
He nods in understanding. Of course she'd want to go to the dock on her own horse. It's been a good few years since she even spent quality time with Trouble, and Masao knows just as well as Tomoe that she won't come home after she leaves.
"I'll get Trouble ready, then," he says dutifully. "Make sure to check your back for everything you need."
Tomoe shrugs nonchalantly. Her expression is that of someone who has little care for what they pack, prompting Masao to wonder just how terribly she prepared herself for the Hunter Examination. "Tomo," he adds with a stern tone, "what did you pack?"
In a single movement she drops the knapsack in front of her, and then she's undoing the clasp as she reports, "I think just my violin and a bottle of water. They give out food there, right? Or was I supposed to grab some?" She reaches into the knapsack and pulls out a small piece of fabric, a surprised expression on her face as she adds gleefully, "Oh, and a hanky!"
"You're dense," Masao growls. He storms over towards the tack room, just across from Trouble's stall, and moves about quickly in search of the basic equipment needed to ride Trouble to the docks. He brings out the equipment one piece at a time, cautiously putting it on Trouble each time he enters the stall while Tomoe plays with the horse's hair.
"I don't see the need to bring a lot," Tomoe says as Masao fastens the saddle. "It'd be better if mother had something to remember me by while I'm gone. You know I won't bother writing or coming home in the middle of everything. Plus, you and Ayaka did fine with only a few things."
He sighs deeply and moves back into the tack room for Trouble's bridle. "Ayaka and I took things to keep us safe," he corrects her. "Just because we didn't take much doesn't mean we didn't take anything important."
Tomoe pouts at him childishly. It's almost unbelievable that she's seventeen when she acts like this.
"I'm not dense," she mumbles. "I'm just not very worried about it all."
He pauses midway through checking the saddle's strap again, her statement striking a nerve within him. After the first year of being confined to her room and forbidden from training further, Tomoe had eventually announced that she'd come to terms with her fate—she wouldn't get to see Kayo and Takeo grow up, and she wouldn't get to see Masao and Ayaka start their own families. He's not sure if everyone else has noticed it in recent years or not, considering that Masao has been the only one to visit her room daily and talk with her, but there's been a distinct lack of care whenever Tomoe thinks about herself.
She's not worried because she doesn't care what happens to her. She just wants to get out and do something for herself. Tomoe had even confessed it after her most recent birthday, telling him, "I'm not living. I'm just existing." This just worries him more when he thinks about the things she's packed and the nonchalant attitude she shows. It's like Tomoe doesn't even want to believe that she has a chance to come home before her time comes.
He doesn't reply to her, instead making sure that everything is properly secured. Trouble is ready to be ridden and Tomoe's knapsack is fasted once more. He leads the two out of the stall and towards the stable doors, but before he leads Trouble out he helps Tomoe up into the saddle. Masao's heart almost sinks at how easy it is to lift her up, uncertain if he's grown stronger or if Tomoe's become lighter and frailer. Tomoe clings to Trouble with a large, toothy smile on her face; he's almost surprised she isn't shaking with excitement as he leads Trouble outside.
Masao sits himself in front of Tomoe on the saddle and refuses to urge Trouble forward until Tomoe gets a safe grip on the older boy. He's going to be riding the horse as fast as he can, and he doesn't want his sister to fall off and break a bone or worse before she even makes it to the docks. Tomoe wiggles impatiently, hissing to Masao that someone might wake up and see them through the window, and he finally directs the brown and white horse towards the gates at the front of the estate.
The light of the sun is peeking out over the horizon, signalling that dawn is on its way. Masao clicks his tongue as Trouble trots out of the front yard and onto the dirt track leading to the town. They've always lived a small distance away from everyone else, keeping to themselves in order to focus on important matters regarding their work. The trip should take ten minutes at most, he thinks. It all depends on how cooperative Trouble wants to be.
Masao decides to test the waters and try to urge the horse into a canter, silently praying that it won't try to shake them off. Trouble's pace slowly picks up, and then they're moving quicker down the dirt track and into the trees lining the road. The estate fades from view, and then Masao and Tomoe are letting out relieved breaths.
They have little trouble getting to the docks, avoiding every obstacle Masao had worried about as he'd plotted to take Tomoe and let her have her chance at the exam. No one has noticed them missing yet, and Trouble takes them through the trees and eventually the town itself without much resistance. Tomoe laughs triumphantly as they pass stores and people watching the sunrise; it's been a while since Masao's heard a sound like that come from his sister.
The Kaijinmaru is easy to recognise for Masao. The ship is docked near another one that's unloading various fruits in crates, the captain wandering along the deck as he inspects his crew's work. They still haven't left yet, he thinks happily. Tomoe still has time.
He brings Trouble to a halt a short distance away from most of the commotion, a few workers and sailors turning to see what's happening as Trouble lets out a short squeal. Masao flushes with embarrassment and does his best to silence the horse, rubbing its neck reassuringly. He can hear Tomoe spluttering loudly behind him, unaware of the attention they've garnered.
"I should've tied by hair back," she whines, swiping desperately at her face. He imagines that her curls have flown about during the ride, and have finally settled all over her face now that they're no longer moving.
Masao nudges back at her with his elbow, letting her know that they're at the ship she needs, and quickly dismounts in order to help her off. Tomoe refuses his help with a stubborn upturn of her nose, leaving him to keep Trouble steady as she dismounts on her own.
The people around them stop paying attention soon after, bored now that the horse is quiet again. Masao exhales shortly as he reaches into his pocket for the letter.
"The ship you want to get on is the one in front of us," he tells her. She glances over her shoulder and nods as she takes it in. "Now, I want you to listen carefully, Tomo. You need to give this letter to the captain, or at least have someone deliver it to him if you can't find him." He holds up the envelope and waves it in her face. Tomoe snatches it from him with a frown.
"I'll deliver it," she sighs. "Anything else? Or can I go now?"
Masao frowns back at her. He hadn't planned on giving her much to take with her, but he figures he may as well try to give her a parting gift. He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out the two small objects stored inside—his switchblade and his fob watch. The watch has long since stopped telling the correct time, but the inside holds a photo he considers to be precious—the last time Tomoe had looked genuine happy when with the whole family, posing in a family portrait and free of worries.
He takes one of her hands and places them on her open palm, pushing her fingers over them and letting his grip linger as he says, "Keep these with you. You don't have to use them for anything—but just take them so you don't forget us."
A pained look flits over Tomoe's face before she covers it up with a playful grin. She snorts out a short laugh. "I should say the same to you," she tells him. "Just because I'm not home to annoy everyone doesn't mean you can relax."
What a typical response of hers, he thinks. He lets out a quiet chuckle and pats her shoulder lightly. Tomoe fixes her knapsack and nods to him in farewell. This is the last time they'll see each other, yet neither can bring themselves to say goodbye properly. Tomoe waves back at Masao meekly as she makes her way up the gangplank; Masao nods back to her as he keeps a tight grip on Trouble's reigns.
She disappears from sight altogether once she boards the ship. Masao lets out a short breath to steady himself. It's time to face their family and tell them that she's left.