Bittersweet Victory: Malignant Memories
Ten minutes before midnight heralded a second corpse. The young man from the third phase dragged a chameleon by the tail, dirtying its lifeless, blood-stained body in a final insult. Much like he had with her, Chairman Netero- as Tali had called him when she updated him on Togari's condition (alive, sadly)- congratulated the excited boy. He then proceeded to cheerfully yell how he had finally passed, this his third try or something.
Lan quickly tuned him out, her mood more than spoiled. It would take one wrong statement for her to snap. But, he now had Hunter status, and Hunters weren't supposed to hunt each other. Netero kindly mentioned that to her as her bloodlust flared to life. Creepy old man handled bloodlust too well.
They climbed aboard the airship to reach their final destination: a nearby city with an Association branch office. It would have been unbearable if she had to spend the ride with… With anyone. Instead, like a zombie, she set out to do menial tasks after being pointed towards a cabin.
A shower came first.
Lan stood in front of a mirror, appalled. Cheek swollen and vibrant purple, hair mangled with twigs and leaves, dried blood flaking from her neck downward, and eyes rimmed red from tears, she looked as defeated as she felt. She didn't bother undressing first. Warm, clean water after days in the wilderness coaxed her into staying longer than necessary, even if she had to peel wet clothes from her skin. Not wanting to think, she practiced Ten out of habit, forcing her focus from her thoughts to mediation. Staring blankly at a wall was much easier than actually confronting her emotions after all. It always had been.
She face-planted on a bed after leaving the shower, not motivated enough to find food and risk conversation with anyone wandering the airship. Her freshly washed clothes dried next to a vent blowing freezing air. She ended up wrapped in the scratchy blankets, damp towel still around her bruise-laden body. A second was secured over her shoulders when she remembered she had stupid tattoos to hide- drunk Lan was no longer allowed to make impulsive decisions. She also barely remembered to draw the extra moles back onto her face with the spare makeup she had stashed in her bag. Had to keep up appearances until she walked out of this place, license in hand.
She wanted her phone more than anything else. Mindlessly surfing the internet, reading a book, or maybe calling Auntie- even if she would just ask how the exam went- would be a nice distraction from her current mood. Hell, Hisoka would have been an option too if she could think of some topic entertaining enough that he'd bother with her. Anything to distract her until she shoved her emotions aside would be welcomed.
Instead, she had absolute silence stretched over a couple of hours to reflect on unpleasant things…
The intercom woke her from an accidental nap. After stumbling from her tangled mess of towels, blankets, and sheets, she hastily got dressed. Footsteps down the hall motivated her to move quickly. Very unpleasant, clothes still damp and now freezing from the air conditioning. Only a step into the hallway, and she was whisked off to the finale of the exam: an interview.
The strange bean-headed man that had handed her a tag at the start of the exam lead her from the airship to an office building. The sky remained dark, clouds abating, a soft glow to the east hinting at morning. She refused to acknowledge the other new Hunter babbling at her side, trying to be friendly with her by way of boring small talk- the clearing weather, of all things. The bean left them outside a conference room, the young man first to have his so-called exit interview.
She sat in numb silence for a few moments.
Reality started to sink in again, returning her from her nap-induced daze. She hated how she had arrived at this point, but a license was within reach. She almost felt happy to be closer to fulfilling her goal. She could find a Nen instructor. She would get stronger, and not have to live in as much fear of her sister's garbage as before. She could begin finding something to invest herself in beyond flits of fancy, maybe find some trustworthy friends along the way.
To think the final part of the exam would rely on her people skills, though. A flicker of an unimpressed smile appeared on her face at the revelation.
The door creaked open several minutes later, the young man walking out with his precious plastic card and a stack of papers. His exit signaled her to stand and enter. Walking through the doorway, three people greeted her, all familiar faces at this point. Morel and Tali sat on either side of Netero. Two empty chairs on either side of them hinted that all the examiners should have attended. Lan might have walked out if Togari had dragged his half-corpse here. (She wondered if he killed that foxbear himself or bought the vest somewhere. Bastard.) Sybil's absence was relieving, the woman unsettling in a way Lan couldn't quite place- something about her aura had made her skin crawl in a manner that even Hisoka's hadn't.
She sat down to begin the final trial of the exam.
"Sooo," Tali began, shrill voice dragging out the word. "What sort of Hunter do you want to be? Standard question, by the way. I already said you'd be a Beast Hunter, but apparently they don't believe me." She shot a glare at Morel and Netero, huffing when they ignored her.
"I don't know," she admitted, Tali raising a suspicious eyebrow at her like she was lying. "I was considering Blacklist Hunter as well." An exciting job, obviously. Satisfying her thrill craving more often would be nice. The title of Beast Hunter had seemed perfect at the start of the exam, but now… Other Hunters still hunted rare creatures. If she killed them on the basis they were interfering with her preservation efforts, would her beliefs override the rule against killing other Hunters? She already pushed her luck during the exam. Having the entire Association after her would be her end. She wasn't Fanghe.
"Then," Morel said after her pause dragged on, "Why did you want to become a Hunter?" His voice lacked an accusatory tone, it just another standard question. It was difficult to read his expression, sunglasses blocking his eyes.
Netero might be the only one that cared about her family name enough to comment on it. He might also just be the only one familiar with Fanghe; she wasn't renowned worldwide, more so a phantom memory haunting those that had the misfortune of meeting her. Lan tended to forget that, since her father had spoken of Fanghe like some villainous deity rather than his own offspring.
"I…" Lan faltered under Netero's gaze. While he smiled cheerfully, his eyes reflected unnerving interest. This simple interview felt like an interrogation. One where lies should be kept to a minimum least they come back to bite her later. "I thought it would mesh with my interests. Hunters also have access to information and places that normal people don't. I…" How embarrassing to admit this to a room of Nen-users. "I also need a Nen instructor. I don't understand defensive techniques." Her eyes on the table, she pointed to her cheek as a prime example. Hisoka hadn't even struck her as hard as he probably could have; using his Nen combined with his physical strength would have broken teeth, if not detached her entire jaw. An elbow could have killed her, and that was absolutely pathetic.
Her eyes jerked back to Netero when he chuckled. "Lanfen Paijin," he began, mirth in his eyes, "do you know what Fanghe wanted when she became a Hunter?"
"To learn about Nen?" Lan answered, unsure. No one liked to talk about her sister beyond cursing her name, honestly. Lan only knew that Fanghe became a Hunter, learned Nen, and promptly did something to anger the Association. Did… did her sister answer the same as she had? Lan felt her stomach drop at the thought. "Whatever it was that she did, I have no intention of doing the same." Was that his concern? "I never even knew her, really," she added as a quiet afterthought.
Fanghe died when Lan was three. During her attack on the Bai Ze, her throat was slit by the very assassins she had hired… Lan figured her father had masterminded it, because he loathed Fanghe, but it might have been retaliation by the Bai Ze. Or, Fanghe might have even ordered it herself to prove some point; Auntie once called Fanghe extreme in her methods. All Lan knew was that Fanghe's group indiscriminately came after the Paijin and Bai Ze with vengeance…
Regardless, Lan hated being on the spot for her sister's nonsense. It's not like she could explain the motives of the long dead. She shifted in her chair, fingers pulling at a thread on her shredded pants.
"You don't know?" Netero sat back in his chair as Lan's wide eyes snapped to his. "Fanghe killed her Nen instructor before going off to form the Fan Shi." Blunt and said with a smile, his words left her speechless.
The Fan Shi… her sister's loyal group of child soldiers. "I understand," she whispered, thread snapping as she pulled too hard. Frightening group. Her father had been absolutely terrified of them, going as far as moving the family into seclusion to hide from them. But, in the end, even that didn't save him… Two had attacked the house, lit it aflame. As she had fled the chaos, she heard them arguing over finding her, sounding a bit desperate that she might have died. If she hadn't used Zetsu or had Nemmi… Lan honestly had no idea what would have become of her. Auntie always said the Fan Shi wasn't made of the most stable of individuals. She had left it at that, too, not keen on talking about them. The only clues Lan had about the Fan Shi members were a few of their gifts to her mother, namely a book with a collection of myths, a pin-board of butterflies, and an elaborately bent paperclip on a necklace.
"I…" Lan blankly stared forward, feeling like she needed to say something, but her brain empty of ideas. She certainly wouldn't be admitting that she feared the Fan Shi herself. Definitely not that she wanted to improve her Nen to protect herself from the Fan Shi.
"Well, congratulations Lanfen." Netero smiled, breaking the heavy silence as he motioned for Tali to hand over a stack of papers and a small box. The pink-haired woman rolled her eyes dramatically, pushing the stack to Lan. As Lan opened the box, Netero explained, "That is your Hunter License. You only get one, so don't lose it. It won't be replaced for any reason."
"The book has the rules and perks of being a Hunter," Tali cut in, crossing her arms over her chest. "Since new Hunters are idiots, I will be explaining the guidelines in painstaking detail after this interview. Stupid Sybil, ditching early. This was supposed to her job."
Lan absently nodded, turning the plastic card in her hand. All of this for a scrap of plastic… It felt a bit insulting.
"I suggest going onto the Hunter website to find an instructor," Morel helpfully added. Sound advice. Lan still respected him more than the other examiners, even if his exam had involved an ungodly amount of swimming. "It'll help you out. Good luck, kid."
Tali pushed her chair back with a horrendous scrape, prancing towards the door with impatience. "Come on, newbie." This once, Lan appreciated Tali. She no longer wished to be on trial. "I have to get back to Miss Cluck before the alcoe plant withers. I worked so hard to find one, but it was better than paying some rude participant."
Never mind. Tali continued to eat her nerves.
Lan stood, shoving her license into her bag next to the playing card, and grabbed the other papers before following Tali out into the hall. The young man rose from his chair, quickly taking to chatting with Tali, allowing Lan a break. While not painless, the brief interview had gone well enough that she got her license. A bit of hope after yesterday's events.
She was excited to put this process behind her, and begin finding what she wanted out of life.
Lan unceremoniously plopped into the chair, snagging an early morning appointment. She caught herself in the mirror. Still bruised. Very bruised. Yellowing now, too. At least she had a change of clothes. The questioning looks she had gotten at five this morning when she went shopping were something else. One person even offered to call the police for her; she was the victim of an embarrassing defeat, nothing more. It was a change, strangers sincerely offering help through contacting the police. In Anchi, 'calling the police' was a common threat or joke depending on the circumstances.
"Good morning!" The stylist stepped to Lan's side, checking over her supplies. Her customer service voice was grating this early; the stylist looked dead tired, the pep entirely fake. Lan had had enough of that attitude from Tali- her lecture had been awfully longwinded for someone that didn't want to be there. "What would you like done today, miss?"
"To the shoulders. Try to even it out in the front." Lan leaned back, trying to ignore the woman running a comb through her hair before cutting the mess.
Only reason she went to an actual salon was because she had too much hair to cut on her own- at least if she wanted it straight across and not further massacred. In the past, Auntie would cut her hair. The last few times, though, Lan actually had Nemmi trim it. But, given both were unreachable, she came here to make due. Once she went back home, she would dye it back to its natural brown herself.
Her lips twitched to smile. She wanted a new style, Hisoka's little stunt only accelerating the inevitable. Auntie always teased her for her style shifts, but Lan honestly liked to play dress up. She hated having to give up on her impulsive style changes to grow her hair out, so she could properly masquerade as Fanghe. Inspired by a certain flamboyantly dressed clown and pent up creativity, she wanted to find something nearing outright ridiculous this time.
She already had an idea for her hair once she slipped away from the Association. She wanted to shave off the entire chunk Hisoka had grabbed, make it a reminder of her vow to face him again.
Because she would. She would hunt that man down if that's what it took. She would prove she wasn't as flounderingly weak as she came off during the exam. The battle she wanted would end with them both covered in bruises, cuts, and blood. It would also end with her preferably alive, receiving praise for being another monster in human skin, untouchable to most, defeated by few. She wanted to be a fellow predator instead of weak-willed prey bound to die.
The clatter of metal on tile abruptly pulled Lan from her thoughts. Scissors lay on the floor in a pile of discarded hair. The stylist stared at her in wide-eyed terror, like she had just threatened the woman and her every relative. It took Lan a moment to notice she let her bloodlust slip as she thought about her magician friend.
Either her control had grown incredibly poor, or not having Nemmi affected how much Nen she had access to. That made sense, actually. How she didn't think of this earlier reflected how well she sometimes thought things through- it had been years since she had last dismissed Nemmi, in her defense. Of course not manifesting Nemmi left her more Nen to use elsewhere, including for her emotions to rage with. It explained her worse-than-usual control over Arri as well. Damn. If she noticed this sooner, she might not have attracted…
No. She would have drooled over Hisoka regardless. Powerful. Confident. Weird. They even held an odd, mutual curiosity towards each other. Their meeting had been inevitable. Birds of a feather? Or do I just want to be him? she thought in amusement.
"You may continue," Lan said with a hint of impatience when the stylist just kept gawking at her. The woman came out of her stupor, clumsily retrieving her scissors from the floor before meekly continuing. "Just… A bit excited, is all," she mumbled, realizing she had scared the harmless woman to death and then rudely demanded for her to get over it. Auntie would be livid if she didn't half-apologize somehow.
Perhaps thinking about Hisoka should wait. He riled her up in the worst of ways.
Barely five minutes into her walk to a library to begin her search for an instructor, Lan dead-stopped outside a display window. Fluffy. White. Bunny-shaped with nubs for horns. Baby marsh rabbits, she recognized, bitter smile trying to form along with the tick in her eyebrow. Adults were docile unless perturbed; anger them and face disembowelment by horns. Adorable and highly illegal to sell and own. Did she mention the cages were much too small? And horribly dirty?
It was like the exam all over again, until she remembered she was a licensed Hunter and this was a regular sleazy pet store well within her jurisdiction to punish.
"Hey," she said to catch the attention of the white-clad man next to her. He stood with his shoulders tense and jaw clenched. Underneath the ridiculous pompadour, he appeared equally irritated as his eyes glared a hole through the glass at the marsh rabbits. His grocery bags were long forgotten at his feet, his tight fists shaking at his sides. "You want to round up the owners or animals?"
"Owners," he answered, following her to the front door without a second thought.
Ten minutes later, Lan held two rabbits in her arms, snuggling them, as the man handed the store owners over to the police. He flashed his Hunter License when the owners continued to complain about him "stealing their property" and "taking them hostage." They had tried the same with her, saying she damaged private property. They were lucky she only broke the door and not, say, them. A Hunter License made the police reluctantly accommodating indeed.
How useful. The few times she did this, she had to bribe the police or steal the animals. (In Anchi, she was forced to operate around the law considering the police were essentially Bai Ze lackeys). Auntie complained it was very disruptive to their vacations, especially after the time she toted around a caiman the duration of a trip in Yorknew. Now she could just show her license to have the police do her bidding. The Hunter website likely had a list of nearby sanctuaries and the like as well.
Maybe being a Beast Hunter was her calling, Association hypocrisy aside.
Pompadour walked over to her once the police appeared to have a handle on the situation. "Can't believe scum like that! Keeping animals in those conditions, selling endangered species as pets," he mumbled in frustration. "My name's Knuckle, by the way." He held out his hand, Lan offering him a rabbit instead. He glanced around before tenderly patting the rabbit's head. He then quickly picked his grocery bags up, trying to ignore the bunnies like he didn't want to cuddle with them. He failed, his eyes always returning to them.
"Lanfen," she answered, deciding she appreciated this Knuckle. "Do you have any idea where to take them?" As much as she would love to keep them, build a nice, expansive pen for them back in Anchi, she didn't quite have that much money. Feeding Yan and Tai over a drought ate through her funds astonishingly fast…
"Yeah, I know a guy. Runs a nice preservation in Kukan'yu." She nodded in response. A preservation there would be best, as it would be near their home habitat: the Numere Wetlands. Knuckle looked at the bags in his hands to the rabbits and back again.
"I can carry them." She would gladly carry them. And clean them, feed them, take a whole bunch of photos of them...
He hesitated a moment before nodding, starting to walk down the street with Lan in tow. "Nasty bruise you have," he commented, searching for something to fill the silence as they walked to wherever he was staying.
"Got elbowed by a manic clown." The truth was much more outrageous than any lie she could come up with. Her stomach looked worse than her cheek; Hisoka's knee was as sharp as his elbow, unfortunately. Forget the lovely mark his fist left. She wondered what sort of reaction she would gain from Knuckle if he saw all the damage. He looked tough, but his empathy for animals might extend to humans.
He stared at her, raising an eyebrow, waiting for the punchline to the joke. When she didn't add, he shrugged dismissively. "Had to happen to someone. Guess you're just damn unlucky."
But, perhaps, her luck had finally improved. After studying the guy, he seemed capable enough. Considering his age, he probably became a Hunter within the last few years, learning Nen recently as well. He might be a potential lead.
"Knuckle, do you know a decent Nen-user willing to take on students?"
Knuckle didn't respond immediately, studying her. One of the rabbits began chewing a hole through her shirt sleeve. Lan instantly understood how ridiculous she must look when fawning over cute animals, because Knuckle seemed a blink away from tears when he whipped his head around. The sniffle confirmed he nearly cried at a bunny.
"I'm apprenticed to a guy right now. Not sure if he wants another student, but I'll definitely introduce you, put in a good word." He lifted a grocery bag, continuing, "He got called in by the Association two weeks ago. He made us swim possible exam routes for days as a training exercise," he muttered, sounding exasperated. "We were leaving today, and I got the grunt work. Good thing, I guess, since we saved those little guys."
"Knuckle," Lan said, voice gaining an edge of dread as her stomach dropped. The mere mention of swimming brought back the reek of seawater and the feel of sopping clothes. She should really learn not to comment on her luck. "Who, exactly, is your teacher?" Might as well confirm her fears.
"Huh? His name's Morel." Her single, delirious laugh in response made his eyebrow raise in question. "Know him or something?"
"He made me swim a few dozen kilometers in the dark." Her smile hid absolute misery. Oh, she had no doubt Morel would be an exceptional teacher given how impressive she found him. It was just the prospect of enduring more swimming that made her want to cry. Part of her wanted him to immediately say no to teaching her. The more rational side knew it would help her reach her goals more quickly than searching databases for leads to lesser instructors.
"What?" Knuckle abruptly stopped, staring at her with wide eyes. "You're kidding me! You just passed the Hunter Exam!?"
A week had passed since he had been disqualified from the Hunter Exam.
The Troupe had nothing planned, Chrollo slipping away as he usually did. Not particularly in the mood to wander aimlessly, hoping to come across someone worth killing, Hisoka decided to return to Heaven's Arena for some easy entertainment. It had been a while. He probably had a deadline soon… Or did he forfeit one recently because no one interesting was around? Oh, well, it didn't matter.
Hisoka had been sitting in nighttime silence for a few hours now, a card tower precariously stacked from the floor onto the empty seat beside him. Airship rides were so dull...
The buzz of his phone captured his interest abnormally fast with nothing else keeping his attention. Few people had his number. Considering the Troupe had already disbanded until business arose, he doubted any of them would be trying to contact him. It was almost like they didn't like him. In fact, everyone seemed to avoid him if they could help it.
A simple message lit the screen. "You didn't lie, right?" Following the text was an emoji: a bright yellow chick in a broken shell.
He stared at it, honestly a bit perplexed. People didn't send him messages with emojis. He understood who sent it, the bird standing in for the word fledgling, yet that made it more oddly amusing. The frightened girl from the exam had contacted him willingly, and sent him cutesy emojis like a teenaged girl- which, he supposed, she was. Strange little thing.
Perhaps forgoing a fight with the Chairman during the exam, coincidentally saving Lan from death, had been the correct decision.
Hisoka paused his attack as the second phase examiner tossed his card aside to save the outstandingly weak fourth examiner. While she turned to treat the wailing man's wounds, Morel leapt from the airship, standing between Hisoka and his target.
The question became how badly did he actually want to kill the disappointing examiner? That man wasn't worth the effort, their "fight" horribly boring, but his death would presumably result in the other two attacking. The woman would be a minor distraction in a fight with Morel. His actions already warranted disqualification, so he might as well try to have some actual fun.
Another presence caused him to forget Morel. Subdued and well-hidden, it stole his curiosity. His gaze drifted. Directly behind oblivious Lan stood an elderly man, his outstretched hands poised to snap her neck. A grin split across Hisoka's face, aura seeped in bloodlust because she was his to break.
The Chairman had recognized the situation. Most likely, the old man had been watching the exam proceedings, and noticed that Lan held his interest enough that he preferred her alive for now. A clever little distraction, threatening her. It brought Hisoka's attention away from Morel just long enough for him to offer a prerogative that Hisoka ultimately decided to humor; he had been in a good mood before the weak man interrupted his conversation with the little fledgling.
Hisoka would gain more if he left. He could take the exam again next year, find more potential opponents, identify more examiners worth fighting, and obtain his license to kill without all the mundane bothers of the legal system- among other perks, of course. Being a part of the Association, he would have access to more Hunters to fight, the Chairman included. As a bonus, he also got to keep his newest toy. With a bit of patience, he would reap the rewards of several battles instead of one.
So, he had relented.
He balanced his phone on the tip of his finger, losing interest in the events of the exam quickly. He had her number now, so there was really no need to answer her. He also preferred talking to texting. Hearing reactions were a cheap substitute for actual interaction, but much better than boring letters on a screen. It would be such a shame, too, simply texting her. Lan's reactions were half her entertainment value. Forcing her expression to shift from indifference to mortification, feeling her bloodlust and irritation escape as her restraint buckled, it was almost as fun as annoying Machi.
A few taps on the screen later, he waited, listening to the ringing with a touch of impatience. The call ended abruptly. She had silenced him. He felt momentarily offended. While he had nothing better to do, it irked him that she asked for his attention only to promptly ignore him.
Another message popped up on screen.
"Not now."
Stubborn girl. What could she be doing that she didn't want to talk? He glanced around the airship. Texting might be a boring way to communicate, but he really had nothing else to keep himself entertained.
"Ready for a rematch so soon~" He sent, of course adding a winking face with a star and teardrop. Very unsatisfying. He would have to get absolutely vulgar to embarrass her with letters, and, even then, he wouldn't see her expression.
"I'm training."
He stared at the message. Why did she, exactly, contact him? People only contacted him when they wanted something particularly badly. "Show up to a mission for once," was a popular request. Didn't she just want to confirm his number? She already had. Why try to keep up a conversation, then?
A testament to his overwhelming boredom, he texted back, "Are you lonely without me, dear?"
"I can't stand to be without you another moment." An immediate response sent without a second thought. "I long for the caress of your fist."
While an obvious lie with a heaping amount of sarcasm, it amused him. She felt she had more control hiding behind letters. He wondered how far she was willing to take the act, if she would try to do this in person when the crossed paths again.
"I had a question," she sent before he could derail the conversation with fantastically inappropriate remarks. "What brand of makeup do you use? I need something more waterproof."
An odd question to consider a priority, Hisoka thought while responding anyway. Usually the only makeup question people directed at him was Why? Her lack of immediate response led him to believe she had what she wanted from him. Still, to contact him for makeup tips when there were plenty of other people in the world not planning to kill her; weird girl mustn't have many friends.
Was this, perhaps, her attempt at being friendly? He hummed, now staring at the screen in amusement. How adorable, she wanted him to be her friend. Gaining her trust before breaking her, now that sounded like an entertaining game to play as he waited for her potential to peak. The devastation and betrayal that would be on her face when he ended her life would be the cherry on top of the usual despairing look of defeat.
"Ripen well, my little fruit," he typed with a growing grin, eyes lit by the pale glow of the phone. "I look forward to slicing you open and devouring you whole~"