Chapter 2

It was dark outside.

A sour stench hung lazily, circulating the small room in large circles. Muffled sounds, large hacking coughs and faint sniffles could be heard, echoing slightly from a gap of a door left ajar. If someone were to peer into that gap, they would have seen a spectacular trail of puddled lumps and saliva along the tiled floor. At the end of that trail would have been a dark haired teenager, perhaps no older than sixteen, hunched gracelessly over a rimmed toilet bowl. From the way her fingers were gripping possessively at the cold plastic, anyone would have thought that she was guarding a precious treasure and unwilling to share.

The bathroom was dimly lit; a cramped space comprising of the necessities that all bathrooms consisted of: a sink, a shower compartment and a white toilet that the girl was currently slumped over, her body heaving as another litre of acid and half-digested materials was pumped up into her throat and out from her gaping mouth. The small braid that she had worked so hard on dangled limply at the base of her neck, its strands threatening to come undone once again. It wasn't too long, but still proved cumbersome when the girl had to flick it back every time it swished into the pathway of her vomit.

When the last drips had been spat out, the girl squeezed her eyes shut, blindly feeling for the roll of tissue paper before rubbing the material harshly across her lips and blowing her nose into it. The horrible taste still lingered at the back of her throat, tempting her stomach to lurch once more.

Her heart pounded. Like always, her fringe drifted over her eyes, irritating them when the stray strands poked into her eyes. Her body slumped over the toilet as she tried to control her breathing, her breaths tearing from her throat in uneven pants.

When she had finally regained her strength, her heart had calmed down somewhat. The ugly taste had resolved to a numbing bitterness while but her vision seemed to have cleared up. Yet even through this brief space of relief, she was struck by a sudden realization. Fear clouded her heart, grasping her beating heart in its icy clutches.

Where was she?

She didn't recognise this place. She didn't know where she was. She didn't even know how she got here. But from what she can manage to remember, she had been running in a fire. Wait, no. She had dreamt running in a fire, but that doesn't explain how she was here. Maybe she had forgot that she was on a trip from home or something? But as much as she tried to wrack her brains, there was no recollection of going on any trip.

At this realisation, the small lump of fear grew into a large shard of ice that seemed to be lodged permanently in her stomach. There was no way that she could have ended up here when she clearly remembered going to bed last night in her own room, in own house. Her horror grew as her mind began to crowd with unwanted thoughts. Where was she? Where were her parents? Her sister? Were they worried about her? The prospect of everything was entirely overwhelming.

And who was the stranger? Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember the figure that was occupying this place. Blond hair. Brown eyes. None of that was recognisable. She didn't know. She just didn't know. And that frightened her a great deal.

But through her relished horror, she couldn't do anything but think as she continued to slump over the toilet, feigning sickness. The scent of toilet rose up to greet her, its annoying tendrils crawling up her nose. It wasn't a pleasant smell but she forced herself to remain in that position, her body frozen from the wave of fear that had seemed to engulfed her in its unbreakable grip.

Taking a deep breath, she tried a different approach. Was this a dream? Will she be waking up soon? But the pain and nausea had been so real. Everything was too clear to be a dream. Was she hallucinating? But that was near-impossible. She didn't do drugs and she was pretty damn sure that she hasn't contracted a disease. She had no reason to hallucinate.

It was then, a soft knock echoed into the cramped space, successfully interrupting her inward debate.

"Are you done?"

She flinched lightly at the voice. At first, it sounded feminine, soft and gentle in tone. Then after much analysis, it seemed a tad too deep to be a female. Was this person a male or a female? Personally, she was hoping it to be the latter.

Yet simultaneously, a fresh wave of guilt and hilarity coursed through her. Guilt for vomiting on a stranger, hilarity for the action she had done. When she had first comprehended her actions, she had almost burst out into soft giggles of amusement. Only the guilt had held her back in its heavy weight.

A faint hint of a smirk curled over her lips. She hadn't gotten a chance to apologise yet. Was the figure expecting an apology? But from his/her reaction, it almost seemed like she was forgiven already. But again maybe not.

The stranger's reaction wasn't an over-exaggerated show of disgust, but rather a mature approach. From what she could remember, the figure had merely tensed and pushed her away with a controlled amount of force, then proceeded to direct her by the shoulders into a small tiled room, to which she had come to know as an excellent puking companion. In the spur of the moment though, she hadn't managed to take anything in with detail. All she remembered were a blur of colours, shapes and ragged outlines.

Leaning slightly, she stumbled to her feet before smoothing down her fringe and running her fingers through the braid that she had spent so much time on. With one swipe, she tugged at her hair, and with slow fingers, tied it up into her usual ponytail before glancing hopelessly around the bathroom, reluctant to part from what she considered as a temporary sanctuary. But there was nothing rooting her to the toilet anymore. There was no excuse to avoid the inevitable.

"Y-yeah." She stuttered in response, partially in fear, worry and curiosity. She needed to find out where she was. She needed to find out how to get home. And she wanted to know what gender the voice belonged to.

Please be a girl. She thought wishfully. She almost tripped over an invisible step.

As if in a trance, her legs carried her across to the door in two strides, carefully avoiding the trails of her own vomit. Her hands touched the wooden doorknob hesitantly before prying it ajar, observing warily when light streamed from the other room and into her space. A cold breeze blew into her face.

At once, she noticed the open window, frowning when she realised that it was dark outside. Was it still night time? But before she could ponder, a horrible scent drew her attention to a small puddle of vomit, a few metres away from her. Cringing, she tore her gaze away only to examine the rest of the room.

It wasn't much. There was a single bed, some chairs strewn around, a table and few windows. Immediately, her eyes landed on the lone figure occupying the room. It was only when she took a cautious step forward that the stranger turned towards her, his/her gaze guarded yet curious.

The person looked young, probably not much older than her. She still couldn't decide the gender, but judging from the small lump on the base of his throat, he was a male. But when she took a glance at his face, in all honestly, she could have so easily mistaken him for a female. The shapes of his eyes were large and somewhat childish at first glance and his lips were rather distinctive. But the one thing that she couldn't draw her attention away from had to be his blonde hair.

It was almost unnaturally yellow, no it was completely yellow. Was it dyed? Yet despite its unnatural colour, it somehow seemed to suit him. Very well in fact. It looked completely natural on him. But that wasn't the only reason why she couldn't seem to stop staring.

His blonde hair was rather long, creeping over the back of his neck, with what looked like bangs that framed his face. Her gaze lingered longingly on the soft strands that seemed to fall perfectly at every tiny movement. Some clumped together fashionably while others were loose and splayed perfectly over his forehead. In her terms, it was like anime-hair come to life. In one word, she could describe his hair as beautiful. Sighing inwardly, she tried to make a mental note: Ask him where he cuts his hair.

But before she could continue admiring his hair, the boy spoke in that feminine tone, effectively jolting her out from her hair crazed madness.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" His voice was soft with a hint of suspicion.

When she didn't answer, his gaze hardened.

"I don't know who you are or how you got in here, but you should leave after you're done" He spoke evenly in a controlled manner. "Your parents are probably looking for you."

She cringed inwardly at his last line. As her gaze drifted from his oh-so-perfect blonde hair back to his face, she felt a sudden jolt of familiarity, like she had seen him before. His skin was practically flawless, slightly pale though it was probably his natural skin tone. She was sure that she didn't know him but her consciousness seemed to be debating against her.

"I…" Her eyebrows furrowed into a frown as she tried to collect her thoughts. "I don't' know where I am." She winced inwardly at the panic that was beginning to appear in her voice as she blurted out her words. "Where is this place?"

He shot her what seemed to be a contemplating look. "Whale island," He spoke after a pause. "You are on Whale island."

At once she was confused and a tad suspicious. Was this a joke? Cause she wasn't finding it very funny. "Whale Island?" She repeated. "No, seriously. I know I am lost but I'm not that lost to believe you." Her courage continued to increase as she spoke. "Are we in Sydney? Where are we in Sydney?"

The response she received was a raised eyebrow and a surprised glance. "Sydney?" He repeated much like her, before reaching out for what seemed to be clothing, neatly folded into a square. In a blink of an eye, he released it from its folded state with a blue flourish and in another heartbeat; he had tugged it onto one shoulder and then secured it on his other shoulder. When he had donned the piece of blue cloth, he smoothed it down before straightening up.

It was then she began to recognise the attire that he had just donned. She didn't know what it was called, but the cloth was rather like the bibs that she was forced to wear at school, only that it lengthened out to his knees like a skirt. While it was a deep blue in colour, there were also thick lines of red that outlined the edges and seemed to form an inconsistent pattern of lines. At his neck was a small bow, also in the same red hue.

Her eyes widened when it came to her. That outfit. That hair. It was so bloody obvious. How could she not have realised? And she called herself an anime fan.

Wiping away inward tears of depression, she almost stuttered in her sudden excitement. "Are you…?" She trailed off, nudging the person silently with glazed eyes.

To her confusion, she only received a puzzled look and a challenging threat from his eyes.

"Cosplaying?" She finished on a hopeful note.

As she waited for his response, she couldn't help but mentally punch herself again and again. It was so bloody obvious. She should have gotten the hint when she had noticed the hair. Heck, it was probably a wig, styled with hairspray to stay in form.

The outfit was also made really well. From what she can see, she was pretty sure that it would win in any competition. It looked so natural, unlike other cosplay uniforms that looked too new or too bright. She didn't have any critique. Maybe it was because of the fact that it was so near perfect or because of the fact that she wasn't a big fan of cosplay.

But things started to fall apart when the Kurapika cosplayer stared at her with a frown, repeating what ambiguously sounded like a question. She wasn't listening. At his second glance of confusion, her mind had already tuned out and seemingly fallen apart as she realised her situation. Even if he was a cosplayer, it still didn't answer how she had ended up in this place. It still didn't answer where she was.

Tears pricked at her eyes. No! She refused to cry. But the panic and worry was overwhelming her. Where was she? She wanted to go home, to lie down on her own bed, not standing limply in an unknown place with a cosplayer that she didn't know.

The tears began to build up. Without another moment of hesitation, she turned around, vaguely remembering a phrase. Don't turn your back to an opponent. Too late for that. She turned away from the stranger and faced the wall. She didn't dare squeeze her eyes shut for fear of her tears falling out. Instead, she clamped her hands over her ears, her eyes wide, taking deep breaths and silently willing the traitorous liquid away from her eyes.

She didn't know what to do anymore. She didn't know what to think. She just wanted to go home. Back to her parents, to her sister. Despair was beginning to cloud her heart. She didn't want to think anymore.

Help me.

But there was nothing here. A miracle won't suddenly appear. Help won't come for her. This was reality. This was life.

And life isn't an anime.

Panicking, on the verge of tears, she smiled grimly at her choice of words. Reality wasn't perfect and she knew it. She knew that she would never live an anime life, a life of adventure, romance, happiness and sadness.

She wasn't expecting to. She knew the world that she lived in was a cruel world, where harsh realities reign above them. And it is from this that she knew she was on her own. No help will come to hold her up. No comfort will come to support her.

She knew all this. But she couldn't help but hope and to hold onto that hope that she'll get out of this situation and back to her family. Her family… What if she never saw them again? What if... what if…?

Her jumbled thoughts only caused the welling of liquid in her eyes to increase, destroying her past attempts to force them back. This was ridiculous… She knew she was exaggerating. But she couldn't help it. She really couldn't help it.

"Crying is not a weakness."

She startled. She had almost forgotten the other person in the room. Hunching her shoulders, she refused to allow the soft feminine tone to wash over her. Instead, her stubbornness activated. She didn't know why she was so defiant, but with that phrase, she felt her temper peak slightly. How many times has she heard that phrase? How many times have people told her that crying was a sign of strength, a sign of acceptance?

Her fingers clenched and unclenched. There was one other thing that was annoying her. The boy's voice seemed to have softened slightly in contrast to the guarded voice he had before. Did she really seem so weak that he had temporarily dismissed her as a threat? Her fingers clenched once more, her nails digging painfully into her palm.

She was being irrational, this she knew. She knew she had over analysed the five words. The person was probably only trying to be helpful, maybe even attempt to comfort her? But she felt no comfort in knowing this. It didn't take a genius to realize that he pitied her. Her fist clenched tighter, forming a distinct red and white flush, where the blood was cut off from reaching their destination. She hated to be pitied. It was such a big blow to her pride.

And so, her determination not to cry spiked considerably. Tilting her head back slightly, she carefully fluttered her eyelids over her eyes, and waited, careful not to spill. It felt like forever, her attempting to erase all traces of thoughts from her mind.

Calm. She thought deliberately. She imagined a body of still water. She imagined that body of water slowly transmuting to a body of cloudy ice. A smile tugged at her lips when an imaginary hammer smashed into that ice, destroying it into tiny little fragments.

There was no doubt that it was working. Slowly, she could feel her tears recede, drying gradually. It seemed like an eternity. When her eyes finally blinked open, she was once again startled (and a tad embarrassed) when she realised that the boy still stood in the same spot. Her eyes widened at his hazel gaze. Had he been observing her the whole time?

"You didn't cry." He stated simply, a slight gleam of curiosity in his eyes

She only glared at his comment, settling her eyes on his chin when she couldn't bring herself to glare at his hair. Was he underestimating her? Had she been underestimated? The slight peak of her anger fuelled her courage.

"I didn't need to." She answered back as evenly as she can. She didn't know what to think of this scenario anymore. She was in an unknown room, with no knowledge of how she had come to be. There was a Kurapika cosplayer… the one thing that didn't fit in to the entire set. Obviously, it wasn't a kidnapping… but there could always be a possibility…

But why was there a Kurapika cosplayer here. And why did he joke around with her? Whale Island… pfft… she could almost laugh if she wasn't so tense. If he had said anything else like Queensland or something then she would have humoured him slightly but seriously…? Whale Island? That guy sure had a great imagination.

But the main answer that she wanted still eluded her. Why he was in cosplay? There weren't any events as far as she knew. But regardless of the reason, it wouldn't change the small amount of respect that she had for him. Not everyone could pull off a perfect imitation, and not everyone could pull the look off while looking completely natural, like they had stepped out from the anime itself. Frowning slightly, she wondered briefly if he would let her wear his wig some time before focusing back to the silent boy in front of her. A soft frown marred his features while he seemed to be deep in thought.

After a short silence, she grew restless. The silence was killing her. The awkwardness was killing her. Before her brain could contemplate what she was doing, she had already blurted out her question. It was one that had been simmering the curiosity in her for quite some time. "Why are you in cosplay?"

"Cosplay?" He asked, his brown eyes focusing intently on hers. It was quite intimidating really. "What is that?"

"Cosplay. You know? Dressing up as a character from anime or something...?" The girl frowned at his apparent interest. Did he really not know what he was doing? "Like how you're cosplaying Kurapika right now."

His gaze hardened noticeably from her words. He almost hissed. "How do you know my name?" His eyes narrowed slightly, as if challenging her to answer.

Unconsciously, she took a step back, swallowing as an unfamiliar emotion came to pass through her mind. Vaguely, she remembered the emotion as nervousness, but her pride was too big for her to admit that.

"umm…" She didn't know what to do in this scenario. Wasn't she the one supposed to ask questions? "Y-your acting is really great but…" She faltered as she fumbled for words, wincing at the slight stutter in her words. "Could you please drop the act?" She paused slightly to gouge his reaction. "I don't know how I got here, I don't know where I am, so if you would just please tell me where I am so I can get home?" Her voice strengthened considerably at the end, her courage building once more.

It was after a moment's contemplation that he spoke again. "Where is your home?" He asked simply.

"Li-" She suddenly cut herself off, highly disturbed that she had almost given her address to a stranger. "Tell me where I am first." Her voice spoke confidently, her posture straight, head tilted slightly as if trying to intimidate the stranger in front of her. But behind that posture and voice was a girl struggling desperately to keep up with her bluff.

"As I have already said, you are on Whale Island."

"And I've already said that I didn't believe you." The girl smirked inwardly at her quick comeback, proud of herself to have kept her cool.

"Then look outside."

He threw a lean arm to the open window on his right, successfully diverting her attention to the window. Almost instantly, her barrier dropped with a virtual crash. Gasping silently, she punched herself inwardly for not realizing earlier that the sun had already risen. Soft streams of light shone through the window, splashing puddles of brightness over the tiled floor. It was dawn. She must have missed the sunrise some time when she was panicking.

Reluctantly, she inched towards the window, her hand held limply in front of her. From what she could tell, the room that they were in was situated on a rather high building. Below, she could make out a few houses, a few shops, a dusty road and a lot of greenery. Nothing was familiar. Her mouth gaped open in surprise when she noticed the crowds of people walking to and fro, some scurrying like ants. Their clothing was unlike the ones she was familiar with. Instead it was more of an old-fashioned style of dress. Heart pounding, she watched as a shopkeeper and a couple exchange what seemed like strange notes for a bag of good apples. In another area, she could see an open store selling what seemed to be gleaming daggers and silver gourds that shone whitely in the sun. The shopkeeper was shouting loudly, in slang that she was unfamiliar with.

Her body began to freeze. Was she in a different country? No, that would be impossible. Even by the fastest plane, it would take more than a night to arrive. Also, how would she have gotten pass the security and guards while asleep? It was ridiculous. Robotically, she turned back to face the blonde haired boy with a shaky smile, flinching slightly when he made to close a bit of distance between them.

"You're not from around here, aren't you?" He questioned. "What is your name?"

The dark-haired girl narrowed her eyes, her hand placed unconsciously on her heart. Her panic was rising again… and she thought she had killed it off earlier. "What is yours?" She hissed determinedly. Her sister had taught her after all, to never give her name so easily to strangers.

"My name is Kurapika. And yours?" He gestured towards her.

Kurapika... She snorted in disbelief. As if!

"I told you." She shook her head, her tone reprimanding, trying to take his attention away from her panicked state. "Drop the act already."

Blinking once, she felt almost miserable when she happened to glance at his blonde locks… his perfect blonde locks that were currently gleaming beautifully in a patch of sunlight. "And take off your wig," she demanded. "I'm finding it hard to glare at you when you have such a nice wig on."

There was a slight heartbeat of a pause. The boy seemed to startle, his brown eyes wide with what seemed like shock, confusion and the tiniest hint of horror. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly before he gathered his words. "It is not a wig." He somehow managed to even his tone, combing his fingers through his blonde locks in defence.

"Really? It isn't?" She managed a raise eyebrow, finding a sort of dry hilarity in his reaction. But despite her assured accusation, she found her resolve swaying.

No! She yelled inwardly at herself. He's just a good actor, that's all! His hair really is a wig!

Her gaze drifted along the distance between them, then at his hair before eying the space again. Without warning, she bolted towards the boy and snuck a hand into his hair, gripping onto the yellow strands in her clammy grasp. To her surprise, the hair was soft and loose, unlike the heavily gelled hair that she had been expecting. The girl hesitated a fraction, a grim smile ghosting across her features.

Do it!

In one strong and fierce tug, she pulled that tuff of hair as if she was trying to uproot some weeds. There was a pained shout of protest and she froze, paling the slightest tint when it didn't come off as it should have.

There was then, only one word on her mind.

Crap.

Hello again :D I need to tell you something :)

I want to let you know that this fanfic will follow the 2011 HunterxHunter anime plot. I know, I know, it's boring to keep reading the same plot all over again so I'll try not to mimic everything. Instead, I will skip most of the stuff and only focus on the important scenes that I'm using for this fanfic. And of course I will have my own original scenes that I will make up myself so it won't be pure anime plot all the way through.

And of course, to the lovely people who have taken the time to review my fic, I wholeheartedly give my thanks :) They really inspired me to update.

By the way, this chapter was originally separate chapters 2 and 3, but I merged them together :)

Er... one more thing? Please feel welcome to criticize! The more criticism, the more I may be able to improve! So drop a review will ya?

And once again, please proceed to the next chapter! Thankyou!