Greetings, humans.
This is a story about a fanfiction writer being sent into their own fanfiction. A realistic view of coping in the HxH universe!
Or, Crack Treated Seriously.
I own nothing but my computer and my shoes.
Salt.
Wet.
Painwatercoldhotsunburninghurtstopstopstopstop-
She came awake, startled and cold. Wide eyes took in the marble blue spread above her, the specks of blurred white shards. Birds, she took them as, when her eyes had focused. They sort of floated over the wind, hovering before swooping between ropes lining the sails above her. The sky was calm, the sun bright and hot and welcoming, yet it wildly baffled her because the last time she was awake, she remembered a ceiling.
Unmoving, but wildly alert, she noted a dull buzzing in her ears. Her flat blue eyes sluggishly blinked once, twice as her mind whirred over her basic bodily features. All her limbs felt intact. Didn't feel right, but didn't feel wrong. Appendages responded properly—whatever she woke on moved as well—and she could breath deep–
Oh-gosh-her-lungs-hurt.
Hand shooting to her chest, grasping it desperately as if to ease the flaring burn buried in her heart, she gasped and clawed her skin. But then the panic stopped and an odd, cooling pressure filled her, and she could only stare at the length of foreign, black-brown curls dipping over her shoulders to pile in her lap.
She shook her head. Taking a slow breath to test the spring in her lungs and, finding it satisfyingly cool, bare of fire, she relaxed. It was then that she noticed the salt in the air; then, that she could hear. Creaking groans of wood, what sounded like people chatter merging with the sharp screes of birds, and the flashy, sucking noises of water. Lots and lots of water.
She sat up and saw she was on a ship. At the tip of a bow, specifically. It explained the masts, ropes, and sails. That, and the rolling lilt of the ocean-sprayed deck. From between tawny wood railing bars she could see an expanse of ocean, white scuffed and glassy. Like a marble. A very large, flat marble. A meager wave rolled beneath the ship, giving sway to the wooden, old style travelling device. Above her, the masts fluttered with soft wind. It was...nice? Peaceful, in a way?
Where the heck was her ceiling?
Behind her a ways were the stairs leading to the main deck, where there were various shiphands carting boxes and clusters of men resting, or talking, or just observing the ocean. Most were in dark colors, while a few others, like her with a strange, pale purple dress, wore richer or vibrant clothes. They were the kinds of colors that caught the eye. A long haired man with a red bandana. An orange vested fisherman. A teenager with spectacularly bright blond hair, reclining against the netting beside the main mast. There were a couple others her eyes passed before they drew back to the blond. The roundness of his face just tugged at her memories. That, and his clean, blue tabard, which had odd, square-like designs–
A bird screed not a foot from her head and she jumped, wide eyed, then paused. A seagull flicked its head to stare at her sideways before squawking and looking out the other eye. It's feathers puffed before it hopped off the railing and onto the deck, coming closer, curious. She didn't move.
A jolted shout from behind her startled the bird back to flight. Upon glancing back, she saw it was a shiphand with disturbingly cat-like eyes who had tripped and spilled a crate of apples. A couple men beside laughed at him, gesturing, and a small, green-clad kid looking so oddly young amongst the bigger, tougher fellows bent down, grabbing an apple before holding it out to the cat-eyed shiphand. The boy looked familiar, too. Her eyes returned to the blond and–
She turned to face the sea and swallowed, nervous. Blue sea, a boat. No ceiling, a dress. Long hair, small body. Sails, seagulls, strangers, shiphands. Frick.
She looked at her hand. Clean, raw, and useless. Thinner, paler hands than the ones she'd so often used. The skin looked so soft, so white, with fingers that were long and fingernails that were a glittery gold. The scar on her wrist was gone, the one from when she'd accidentally stabbed herself when removing fudge from a pan. Not that it was an important scar but it was one she liked enough to stare at, and now it was gone. That bothered her a great deal.
It meant these hands weren't hers.
She scratched at her nails.
These were not her hands.
There was a chance she knew whose it was, but it was so slim and ridiculous she was scared to believe. But it was obviously something.
What if it was a prank? Unfortunately that didn't seem too likely. Insanity or a dream, perhaps, but really, all one had to do was taste the salty air and the sweet, soft milking sound of the sea to know it was not a dream. At least not hers. Her dreams were never peaceful.
So that left insanity. Which could easily explain everything but it just… it sounded so complicated. If she was insane this would make sense, at least, probably? Where was her ceiling? Why was the sun so bright? She wasn't that much of a shut in, she was fairly tan, why was the sun so bright, so hot? Where was her freaking ceiling?
The wind ushered zephyr across her shoulders and she shivered, eyes narrowing. She wasn't insane. Not enough to hallucinate a shiver and a cold and a whole ocean. And if she wasn't being pranked, wasn't dreaming and wasn't insane, it left one little tiny thing that sort of made sense. Not really, but yeah, really.
Simply put, if right, she would be Kaia. A twelve year old female self insert about to take the Hunter's exam. One with a magic bag that could store anything, a mysterious Mr. Wind who'd help her in need, and an alien dog for kicks. Her sister, Kurisutaru, would be right beside her, and they were both very skilled, and very lovely. And the male characters of their choice would fall in love with them.
Kaia was a character from a fanfiction.
That she wrote four years ago.
She slowly rescanned the bow. Sunlight, railings, seagulls, a little black bag. No big, blond sister. Taking the surprisingly heavy bag, she dumped it's contents on the boat, yet the only thing that fell was an iphone. A peek inside revealed absolutely nothing behind the weight. Tossing a mental note in her head, she pushed it aside and lifted the phone, which was just a dinky pink device with that common apple logo on the back. Curious, she turned it on.
It immediately started ringing. Startled, she dropped the thing, then hurried to swipe the little green phone sign on the screen so as to stop the noise. It worked, and the boat was quiet.
She looked behind her, offering an uncomfortable smile at the numerous stares pointed her way. Then, she picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Congratulations, Kaia." It was a strangling masculine voice. In the background she could hear a low rumbling, like a truck's start up. "You have been included in an experiment I, actually… You have been called forth to serve in my experiment–no, ignore that, that sounds stupid. You have been–oh forget it, you get the idea. Just know your bag's magic or whatever and it'll give you what you need to live on. Haha, live on. Ahem. There are no rules or regulations. P.S. You are dead. Okay, there, I sent the message—ah, wait, is it off? Stupid phones. How do I–"
She blinked twice when the line went dead.
"Shoot."
She sighed, head dropping back against the railings so she could see the sun. It was what she thought. Wasn't no need to deny it, either, because she wasn't stupid enough to do that to herself. She wasn't stupid. She wasn't stupid, and she wasn't gullible, and she wasn't supposed to be dead.
"...Shoot."
Her forehead pressed against her knees, or maybe her knees against her forehead. Either way, the two met and the skin burned when it touched. Perhaps she was sunburned. That would make sense, she was lying in the sun. And on the bow, in a dress, and she should put her legs down because being up like that lets in a lot of sea air.
Kaia—because that was her name now, wasn't it?—grabbed for the bag and the phone, and stood up. The ship wasn't really rocking much, being as big as it was, and the sea was calm, but her legs wobbled beneath her and threatened to buckle when she tried to walk. It was jittery and pudding-like. She made to steady it.
"Hey, are you alright?" a young, boyish voice asked. Kaia scratched her cheek and turned slow, giving a lazy look to the kid. Big, wild brown eyes stared back at her. They belonged to a brown, round face faintly recognized as the boy who'd picked up the apple. Gon Freecs. Character from an anime, character from a fanfiction, which is what she was.
He smelled like fish.
Kaia stood a little straighter and nodded. "Probably not."
"Are you seasick?"
"...Probably not."
"Is this your first time on a boat?"
Kaia pursed her lips, then, slowly, she said, "probably not."
The boy cocked his head. "You don't remember?"
"Don't reckon so," she answered lowly. The boy frowned at her, which made her uncomfortable, and she eased onto one leg, then the other. After sloping her eyes across the ship again, she gestured to the middle deck. "If you'll excuse me."
"What are you going to do? If you're sick, you should drink some water and-"
"No thanks," she said, moving down the stairs. "I'm just going below deck..." She hesitated, looking back at him and his young face. Childish and curious. Big, such familiar brown eyes. "I um… I guess you can call me Kaia."
Twice the eyes blinked, then he smiled. "Okay, Kaia. I'm Gon."
She nodded shortly before turning on one heel and stalking down the stairs. There was a door, an old, rickety thing, she found there. Opting to open it, Kaia cast a glance to the scattered men, the blond boy, Gon, then she went inside and collapsed, whispering under her breath.
"Well, shoot. That happened."
Because she knew that boy's face and it shouldn't be talking to her. She knew this boat and she knew this bag and she knew this story line and for goodness' sake, she had written this for a dozen laughs and a cup full of drama. She wasn't fourteen anymore, she was eighteen years old. She was graduating high school. She was getting her life together and she was satisfied with where it went and she was not, ever, at all, supposed to be in her own fanfiction.
"Ahh… Shit."