Pinnacle of Promise: Under the Spotlight
Lan bit her lip to keep from smiling at the boisterous crowd screaming for the match to begin. She slipped her vest off before pulling her sweater over her head, leaving her in a tank-top. "Watch my things, Nemmi," she whispered as she folded her clothes, her phone tucked in the center of the mass.
He squawked, settling onto the pile despite the glare.
"I don't want them to get ruined," she explained when he started chiding her. In her defense, the vest was a one-of-kind find, and her phone was still in impeccable condition. She didn't want to risk ruining them during the match. The sweatshirt, well, she learned fighting under the arena lights made her sweat enough to feel distractingly gross; it reminded her too much of boating in the tropics. "Quiet," she shushed, patting Nemmi on the head. "I won't get cut up by his cards, okay?"
Another round of indignant chirps and squawks made her roll her eyes.
"Nemmi, I know he looked like he was up to something." In fact, while they were signing up, Hisoka had looked positively devious, ridiculous grin plastered to his face the entire time. "But I'll be fine." More than fine, because she had worked hard to get this rematch.
A light above the exit flashed, signaling it was time to make her grand entrance. Lan bounded to the tunnel, trying to hide her stupid grin again while calmly walking to the radiant light at the other end of the corridor. The screaming got louder and louder, her heart pounding as she tried not to bounce in excitement.
"And in her debut match on the 200th floor, Lan!" the announcer shouted as Lan stepped out into the spotlight, light blinding, noise deafening. As she approached the stage, the announcer continued, "Sporting a zero-loss record and single-hit knockouts on previous floors, she's an impressive newcomer!"
Her feet froze at the edge the stage. Lan's fingers curled into tight fists, nails digging into her palms. Her entire body shook as her mood plummeted, aura twisting with bloodlust, anger, fury, disappointment, ire, confusion, absolute rage, sincere dismay because that… That fucking bastard!
Across from her stood a hulking man wearing the plainest white t-shirt, his tan cargo pants tucked into black combat boots. The polar opposite of the magician she had expected to see in the ring with her, this guy was the epitome of an insult made flesh. He stared her down before slamming a fist into his open palm, returning her bloodlust with a flash of his Ren.
She ignored him, rage-fueled questions running through her mind. How did Hisoka even arrange this!? I'd been standing next to him when he signed up! I saw him write his damn name down! What kind of trick…?
"But will her winning streak end today against crowd favorite Sounz?" the announcer introduced, whipping the crowd into a further frenzy. "He has a five-win streak, his last two opponents knocked from the ring and out cold in one hit! With seven wins total, he needs only three more to challenge a floor master! Can-"
She lost interest in the commentator, her eyes searching the crowd, obvious scowl engraved in her face. She found the bastard in the front damn row. Hisoka gave a closed-eyed grin and a single wave when their eyes met. The hole her glare wanted to burn through his stupid skull made him all the more amused.
"Hisoka!" she finally snapped, screaming his name at the top of her lungs over the noise of the crowd. She stalked towards him, Nen surrounding her in a wave of harsh light. He looked positively delighted. "You were supposed-"
An arm blocked her path. "Girly, you're fighting me," Sounz said flatly, the judge standing behind him torn whether to interrupt or not. She probably looked like a rabid animal spitting in anger. Her eyes narrowed at the man before returning to Hisoka. He blew a bubble with his gum as he leaned back to enjoy the spectacle.
"Fine, Hisoka." Lan stepped back, waiting for the judge to start the match. "I'll prove I'm worthy of a match with you."
At her side, she uncurled her fingers. The man shifted, his massive muscles flexing as his aura output increased. He looked like a slow-moving mountain, all defense and offense, no speed to speak of. Did Hisoka choose this guy just to mock her? Seriously, he didn't-
"Begin!" the judge shouted, quickly back-peddling to the edge of the arena.
A fist pummeled into her shoulder, sending her skidding to the side. Her wide eyes snapped back to Sounz, the man already hurdling at her for a second hit. This time she had the sense to dodge, adrenaline kicking in to keep her focus on her opponent. The first blow, she had managed to use Ko, but he hit extraordinarily hard. A missed block could break bone. She couldn't risk using Ko against every strike in case of a follow-up attack.
"Clean hit!" the judge yelled as his reaction time caught up.
Lan grit her teeth, realizing she couldn't get hit at all. Sounz could get a technical knockout if she gave him nine more free points. Stupid arena rules…
Sounz charged her again, a wild amount aura gathering around his fist. Ducking below the punch and scrambling away, the air shifted with a whistle at the speed- strong aura, probably an enhancer. As he whipped around, Lan darted forward, more agile because of her size. Her nails grazed his side, tearing fabric and nothing else.
"Sounz's iron flesh has stopped another potential injury!" the announcer screamed. "But did the judge miss the point!?"
The judge kept quiet, irritating her. At least the crowd booed in agreeance.
An uppercut almost smashed apart her chin, Lan raising an arm just into time to keep her face intact. She flew into the air with the blow. Her arm felt numb, even with Nen protecting her from the brunt of the damage. Not good.
She landed on her feet as the judge shouted, "Critical hit!"
The crowd hissed as Lan yelled, "My arm's still attached, idiot! That was a clean hit if anything!" She just had to get a shitty judge that tried to save the 'underdog' from becoming a paste stain across the arena floor! She didn't look that pathetic, did she?
"What!? It seems the judge is trying to end this match quickly by making some questionable calls!" the announcer added, stating the abundantly obvious.
I hate this! I hate fighting in the arena! How dare Hisoka bait me into this! How absolutely stupid that I fell for it, too!
"Quit standing around!" Sounz's thunderous steps broke her thoughts. He reached forward, hand clasping at air as she pulled back, thankful for tight clothing and short hair. His face contorted as he snarled, "I'm getting bored with you!"
He lurched forward, drawing back his arm as aura gathered in a bright red glare. The judge fled the arena floor, the audience quietening with anticipation. Lan jumped back at their combined reactions. Sounz slammed his fist into the ground, tile fracturing, aura bursting with a snap rivaling a bomb. Rubble became Nen-enhanced projectiles slicing through air like a hail of bullets.
Her arms flew in front of her face. Warm and wet, blood dripped down her ribs where a shard slashed across skin. Lan lowered her arms, red oozing down her forearms as tile fragments fell to shattered ground. Ten hadn't been enough to prevent damage from that ability. She felt the ground tremble before he burst free of a growing dust cloud. Around his feet, his aura continued to smash tile to spit up debris and dust, obscuring the ring, the crowd screaming incoherently with the commentator. Sounz abruptly stopped, kicking the ground to send stone bullets directly towards her.
This guy, he isn't weak.
Lan jumped to the side, rolling a few times before springing to her feet. Sounz pursued, charging at her again, Nen shifting from his feet to his tightened fist. Her legs tensed, knees bending as her center of gravity lowered. He swung to the side as she feinted a roll to the left. Instead she sprung forward, feet shattering tile. Her aura flickered to life, covering her hand to form claws over her nails. Arri bit into his side, shredding fabric and skin, blood seeping from the wound. He retreated a step, leg almost crashing into Lan before her hands met the ground to allow her to flip back onto her feet.
That should have been enough to spill his guts… An enhancer's defenses held up to the equivalent of a sword slicing unprotected flesh, apparently. It would take more than one slash. Or a deeper cut.
That fact made her lips twitch to smile. This guy was actually fun! He didn't fall over after a single strike, and his hits actually posed a real risk of severely injuring her. Even if she didn't restrict Arri to her fingertips, Sounz would be a challenge.
"C-clean hit!" the judge yelled over the crowd and excitable announcer, motioning the point to Lan. He had changed his mind; she would make him see just how wrong he had been about her being weak. A single hit was just the beginning.
"Finally getting serious, girly?" Sounz shouted in glee, grinning as he lunged for her. "I'll punch that smile right off your face!"
He caught her on the edge of the ring, swinging in a flurry. His fists grazed skin as she tried to dodge in tight quarters. Giving up points by jumping outside of the ring, forget that. Lan ducked a jab for her head, his knee slamming into her arm instead of her gut. Her aura shifted, spikes driving into his thigh, wide gashes opening as she pulled away. Sounz's fist collided with her shoulder.
Lan went with the momentum, flying to the side, feet skidding over broken tile until friction stopped her in the center of the ring. Her shoulder cracked as she rolled it back into place. He whipped around to greet her, a limp in his step as his leg oozed blood. A stomp of his foot sent out projectiles, Lan weaving between stone shards, scrapes unnoticed as she met Sounz again. He swung upwards: a mistake. Arri sailed through flesh, biting into bone before he could lower his arm and step back. Searing blood sprayed her face.
She distanced herself, rubbing an arm over her face, smudging the blood she tried to clean off. The judge declared it a critical hit, tying the score. Sounz threatened to take another step forward to continue the bout, pulling back his arm, aura gathering-
Bone-rending bloodlust interrupted.
The judge froze, shaking in place as he fought panic. Sounz glanced over his shoulder while Lan's eyes snapped to the quieted crowd. Gold met brown immediately. Hisoka stood, his aura rife with carnal desire. His expression, marked with a deranged grin and hooded eyes, called for bloodshed. Even as he wordlessly walked away, licking his lips, she understood. He wanted to watch her tear the man apart before ripping into her himself. But the arena wouldn't allow for that, not within the second the match concluded. He had other business here. He couldn't get kicked out now over a frenzied desire to fight her.
She found a twisted sort of pride in that fact.
"You his chick or something, girly?" Sounz asked as he returned to his fighting stance.
She shrugged, honestly answering, "I have no idea." to keep herself from laughing. Chick. Fledgling. Whatever she was, her life had unfortunately been claimed by him.
He scoffed at her answer, red aura gathering around his fist as blood dripped down his arm. "I'm going to crush you either way!"
Lan's smile returned as she prepared to put on a show for her unfortunate fan.
The match concluded as the man crashed to the ground in blood-loss exhaustion. The camera zoomed in on Lan, her expression confused as the announcer and judge declared she won from a technical knockout instead of her opponent's death; which she had been playing towards, simply forgetting the arena rules as she cheerfully hacked away at the man, her aura restrained from its utmost potential.
"Over much too soon," he said beneath his breath, turning off the tv, losing interest in it as soon as Lan disappeared from the ring.
He definitely would have interrupted if he had stayed.
She was just so… tantalizing. Hisoka fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, grin still fixed in place, pants uncomfortably tight. Oh, he regretted pranking her now- even if it was the correct decision. The smudged blood on her face, the oozing scrapes littering her body, and the wild enjoyment in her eyes… The improvement in her Nen, how much her control had grown, and how her defenses held up against a decent enhancer… And she had such a lovely scream…
"You have no idea how riled up you got me, fledgling." She left him so turned on, but without something to kill the urge. Except Kastro, but that was a painful few days away. Even a slight murder spree might not be enough to quell his excitement. "And you call what I do to you torture," he pouted to himself.
Going through the effort of tricking her, of arranging a match against someone capable of testing her defenses without killing her in a battle induced frenzy … "It will be worth it." He had to keep reminding himself of that.
She deserved her rematch. She had more than proven that during the match. The arena with its cumbersome rules just wasn't the proper place for their match. No, he wanted a battle where she wouldn't restrain herself. "You and I alone, Lan, drenched in each other's blood as we cut each other to ribbons, that's what I crave." A fight without an audience, Lan only his, nothing to distract her from him, that would be perfect.
His phone buzzed obnoxiously with an incoming call.
He wondered how opposed she would be to fooling around with him right now… As much as he wanted to crush her into the ground, pounding her into the bedsheets didn't sound half bad either. Sex might take the edge off… But it might also aggravate the problem because he really wanted to kill something right now. "Prematurely killing you during sex would be a gigantic waste of potential," he muttered, still wanting her squirming underneath him, screaming his name, be it in battle or in bed. Maybe both. No, definitely both.
He grabbed his phone when the vibrating continued, holding it to his ear, "La-" barely leaving his lips as she spoke over him.
"Bastard."
The line went dead immediately after.
Hisoka began laughing, running a hand over his face. Temperamental little thing; she was throwing a tantrum because she didn't get what she wanted.
He wondered if she noticed that he actually helped her in refusing to fight her here. During the exam she had been so adamant about not revealing her Hatsu. In her match, the quick flickering of her aura in restrained bursts, she was still trying to keep it a secret. Her apparent disguises screamed she didn't want to be found. Fighting in front of an audience, the fight broadcast over the internet and television, she had been too distracted in a potential rematch with him to notice her own foolishness. Truly, she should be thankful he had decided not to fight her here.
And asking about the Phantom Troupe, she just further convinced him to not fight her at the arena. "See you in Yorknew," he texted her in invitation. He had already planned to attend whatever mission was going on in September, curious to see if he could use Kurapika to gain himself a fight with his ever-elusive Chrollo. Her interest in the Spiders, her infatuation with him, dear Lan could probably be used to some end- most likely a warm-up or boredom reliever. What would she do with the Spiders? Or, rather, what would they try to do to her? It would be fun, if nothing else. Her entertainment value remained her best trait, after all.
"Is that a promise?" she sent back a few moments later. He could only imagine the deep-set frown on her face paired with her nails clicking on the screen as she angrily typed.
"I cross my heart, fledgling~"
Lan… Her company was a bit more than inconsequential. He found her rather… endearing. A rare thing considering his fickle fancies; it really would be a shame when he eventually killed her.
Lan shoved her phone into her pocket, not believing a word he said. She glanced around her room one last time, remembering to grab her new phone charger so she didn't have to buy yet another for the collection at home. Her wallet almost overflowed with prize money, leaving little room for her hands in her sweatshirt pocket. After walking out of the room, slamming the door behind her, she jammed her hands into her vest pockets to keep from fidgeting- or texting snippy replies to her friend.
Hisoka all but told her to leave, that he was done playing with her for now. With no other reason to stay, Lan had decided to leave the arena to go blacklist hunting until the end of August. Even without his invitation to Yorknew, she was already going there. Auntie planned to attend the auction to get her pottery piece. Hisoka be damned… Although, if he sincerely offered a rematch there, she'd gladly accept.
The stunt he pulled had her livid. She wouldn't let him get away with doing it again. The only reason she left was because Sounz had taken up a decent amount of her energy, leaving behind welts and gashes; Hisoka would also probably kill her if she somehow interfered in whatever-it-was he was doing at the arena.
Blacklist hunting sounded quite stress-relieving right now…
The elevator doors opened at the ground floor. Lan sighed at the sight of the massive crowd in the lobby, everyone gathering around something. They were in her way. Unless she tossed people aside and created a scene, she would have to push her way through tightly packed bodies. She just had to tell Nemmi to wait outside… He could have found the easiest path to take- but, then again, the bird was so irate over Hisoka's stunt on her behalf that he kept squawking while clawing into the ground, leaving very noticeable gouges.
What could be so interesting anyways? She shuffled between people, shoving some aside when they didn't quite understand to move.
"Yeah, dude, that's the guy going against Hisoka in a couple of days."
If that name didn't stop her in place, nothing would. She glanced at the two men talking, avid arena fans judging their memorabilia decorated clothes and lack of Nen.
"Kastro, right? The one that's scored the most points against that lunatic?"
Lan managed to catch a glimpse of one of the people at the center of the crowd. Long silvery hair and a flashy, yellow cape, his aura not leaking from him indiscriminately, he was definitely an arena fighter. Did Hisoka choose to fight him over her? More importantly, did she actually feel a bit jealous that Kastro had Hisoka's attention more so than her?
"Who's the other one? The one Kastro's talking to?" One man said, drawing Lan back to their conversation rather than her dilemma. "She's not an arena fighter, right?"
"Some sort of doctor? To a floor master… Adalei, I think."
"I don't know, she looks like she should be fighting here to me."
Now thoroughly distracted, Lan leaned to the side, searching for the supposed doctor. Having no luck, she squeezed by a few people to get to the front.
When she could finally see, her heart hesitated a beat. The snowy-haired woman had her back to her. It was her clothes, with the Anchi flair and the gold- the almost Paijin gold- that made Lan's thoughts race. The woman turned, taking a few steps away from Kastro before he continued talking to keep her there.
Something… something just wasn't right. Every detail jumped out suddenly, familiar yet not. The woman's face, half-covered by a metal mask, her left arm and leg metal-plated prosthetics, were not commonplace enough for this uncanny familiarity. The scarring over her neck, like it had been slit and roughly stitched together, it reminded Lan of Fanghe. Her age, mid-thirties at the oldest... This woman… She couldn't be part of the Fan Shi, right?
No. No way. For them to just innocently run into each other by pure coincidence, there was no way that would ever happen. The last Lan was aware, the Fan Shi had been actively searching for her or thought she was dead. She did nothing to lead…
Her face paled, her stomach twisting in a knot.
Heaven's Arena wasn't some private fighting establishment operating behind closed doors. A new rush of panic flowed through her as her stupidity came crashing into her all at once. Even if this woman wasn't one of the Fan Shi, Lan realized she had fucked up spectacularly.
Lan turned on her heel to push back into the safety of the crowd. People remained bunched together, refusing to part as they gawked at arena celebrities. She had to turn sideways to squeeze between two people.
A hand clasped her wrist.
She had to swallow her racing heart, the firm grip keeping her in the open. Almost shaking, she glanced over her shoulder. Instead of metal on pale skin, she saw silvery hair framing a decently handsome face.
"Young lady, may I have a moment of your time?" Kastro smiled pleasantly, the expression not reflected in his eyes. He kept his hand around her wrist. Shaking him off would draw even more attention. She frantically tried to look behind him for the woman, praying she left.
Lan opened her mouth only to choke on her words.
They met eyes. The woman paused, grey eye scrutinizing her very existence. One second. Two seconds. With the passing of an eternity, she slowly blinked, looking away, her face as emotionless as the metal mask. A flicker of light on the woman's collar caught Lan's breath of relief in her throat. Something so tiny, so deceptively mundane, made Lan stumble back a few steps.
A paperclip. A single paperclip.
A/N- Lan's mistakes have caught up with her! Going to a popular place like the arena, of course there would be consequences. All for nothing too, because Hisoka decided to be a poor sport about things. His trick involved Texture Surprise, of course, which is why he sort of wanted her to notice it last chapter; makes things more interesting. Then Sounz decided to go with it since she seemed like an easy match.
Cutefrog- I don't like to spoil things :) I enjoy reader's reactions too much- so please, fangirl to your heart's content! Certainly, there will be more Hisoka. Glad you're enjoying!
Thank you for reading! Thank you to those that followed and/or favorited!