A/N: Okay, so this story is actually updated on time...WHOA. Like ,that is impossible! That author never updates...like ever. Well, she is trying. She is actually moving those lazy fingers and still sitting on her butt but whatever. She just wants reviews and ice cream. Reviews may make her gain too much weight but she doesn't care. She wonders why she is writing in third person.

Disclaimer: She does not own HXH.

Chapter 11: Suicide Jumping is Fun

Fern gaped. Mr. President?!

The sheer aura he emitted was stifling her. It was heavy and it hurt, made her head pound and her blood freeze. God, just how powerful was this man to have so much Nen that it nearly suffocated her?

Click. Clank. Click. Clank. Click. Clank.

"It's—It's a pleasure to see you again, President Netero," Menchi struggled to stutter out.

Netero grunted and nodded firmly. "Now, Menchi-kun," he began. "You tried to see if these people could challenge the unknown by testing them through cooking," Netero explained evenly. "With that in mind…Everyone had a problem with their attitude. Is that why you failed everyone?"

Menchi gaze fell to the ground. "No…" she mumbled quietly. "One of the candidates criticized cooking, so I lost my temper." She swallowed thickly. "While I was mad, I became full and, and…" she closed her eyes in contrition. "I'm not worthy of being an examiner. " She bowed respectfully. "I'm sorry."

"Ohohohohoho!" Netero laughed cheerily. "You're an honest girl. For that, I'll offer you a little something else."

"How about this?" he asked, raising a finger in proposal. "Redo it with a different test."

Menchi nodded. "Then the new topic…Boiled egg." She turned back to old man. "President Netero, could you take us to that mountain over there?" she asked, pointing towards the large, mountain that loomed over the tree tops in the distance.

"I see," Netero said. He nodded. "That's an easy task."

"Boiled egg?" Fern asked to herself. She sighed. "This better turn out better than the sushi thing did," she muttered in complaint.

"Don't worry!" a familiar voice chirped. "I'm good at cooking eggs!"

Fern turned to her right to see Gon grinning cheerfully, with Kurapika, Leorio, and Killua all standing behind him. "Oh, hello, Gon-san," she greeted easily. Her gaze lifted to the three beside him. "And Leorio-san, Kurapika-san, and Killua."

"Why am I the only one without –san at the end of their name?" Killua asked, sounding slightly confused.

"Uh…." Fern laughed sheepishly. "I don't know." …maybe cause you're a dolt? Jerk? Donkey ass with white hair growing out of it? She grimaced. "Want me to call you Killua-san instead?" she asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"Killua-sama," he corrected with a mischievous grin.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He nodded smugly.

Fern twitched. She smiled sweetly and was about to open her mouth and call him some very nice names (that fit him much better than Killua-sama) when she was interrupted.

"Actually," Kurapika said, causing her gaze to wander over to him. "I was going to tell you to just call me Kurapika."

"Me too," Leorio added. "Leorio-san makes me feel old."

"Me third!" Gon chirped, grinning.

Fern blinked in surprise. "Really?"

They all nodded.

Fern stared at them doubtfully for a moment, her gaze running over their faces, taking in their expressions. Suspicion tinged her thoughts darker. Were they just sucking up to her? Maybe they were all in on some trick-Fern-into-trusting-us thing. Well, it wasn't going to work, whatever they were up to.

But thinking of Gon tricking someone was like thinking of your puppy planning the destruction of the world government. …Maybe she was just paranoid. But was it really okay to be so informal with people she had met only at the beginning of this day?

She didn't think so.

"Oh!" Gon suddenly exclaimed, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Um…can I just call you Fern? I mean, we're friends now, right? I didn't ask before, so if I offended you for being so informal, I'm sorry…" he rubbed the back of his head and blushed slightly in embarrassment.

Fern tilted her head to the side. "Friends?" Since when? More like owner and pet dog.

Gon nodded enthusiastically. "Yup!"

"Hm..whatever you want," she said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Gon didn't seem to notice though.

Friends…She pondered this as she boarded the plane. And as the airship moved and floated through the sky, and time passed, and the sun began to set, and they drew closer and closer to the mountain the second exam would take place on, she kept thinking about it. She wanted to stop, but she couldn't.

"We're friends, right"

It was like the question was an annoying song stuck on repeat, and no matter how hard she bashed the music player, she just couldn't get it to shut up. It played in the back of her mind constantly, when she talked to Leorio and Kurapika, when she laughed with Gon, even when she was just sitting there all alone, staring out the window in thought—no, especially when she was alone. She hated the thought of it, hated it to the point where she couldn't even figure out why she hated it so much—but even though she hated the thought of that stupid word, she couldn't push the doubt from her mind.

..No, she told herself over and over again. We're not. We're not friends and we'll never be. Stop being stupid, Fern. You know the drill. You know you can't trust anyone except Bea and Akulla. Stop. Stop thinking about them. You're just using them, remember? You don't care. They're just…just puppets. Shut up.

You don't have friends.

. . .

A conversation over the phone:

"Yo, Fern?"

"Akulla?"

"How're things going over there?"

"…Fine."

"You don't sound so good." Concern. "…You're not hurt are you? Did something happen?"

"Uh, duh. Lots of things happened."

"You know what I mean. ..Your eyes? Any incidents?"

"…No."

"Don't lie to me, Fern."

"Okay, geez. What's your problem? It was nothing, really. I just kind of thought I saw one of the candidates eyes turn red like mine for a second, but then my eyes turned red too, so it was probably just me. But it kind of looked like his eyes turned red before mine did. Or something. Don't worry 'bout it though, Akulla. " Laughter. "You're like acting like you're Bea or something. And you're hair'll be grey like hers too, if you don't lighten up, you little brat."

"I'm not a brat! And I'm not worried."

"I think I hear a liarrrrr."

"Shut up!"

"..Hey…Akulla?"

"Hm?"

"…Do you think someone else's eyes could turn red like mine too?"

"…I don't know. But I'll look into it."

Deep breath. "'Kay. Thanks. Take care of Bea for me and don't get into any trouble."

"'Kay. But if you die I'll…"

"See you in hell, yeah I know."

"Not funny, Fern."

"Was too, Aku-baby bro. See ya. Toodle-loos!"

"I'm not your baby brother-

Click.

. . .

"So," Leorio said. "Let me get all this straight. All we have to do is jump off a cliff"—he jammed his thumb towards the fissure in the rock that opened up into a seemingly endless abyss of darkness—" tightrope walk across threads" –here he did a funky imitation of acrobats in a circus—"grab an egg" –he swiped at the air—"and somehow rock-climb back up to the top?"

"No," Fern said.

Kurapika and Leorio looked at her curiously.

"You forgot the part where rabid eagles attack you and attempt to poke your eyeballs out for stealing their fugly little babies." Fern smirked.

"Oh yes, that part," Leorio agreed sarcastically. He then raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

She nodded.

"Good." A large grin spread across the man's face. He turned towards the fissure and dashed towards it. "I'm going first!" he called out eagerly as he sprung off the edge of the cliff. "Whooo!"

Fern giggled as she watched the man disappear into the darkness below. Then, turning to Kurapika, she smiled and said, "I guess I'll be going too." And before he could reply Fern was already off sprinting towards the cliff edge.

"Ah!" she heard Gon exclaim from behind her. "No fair, Fern! Getting a head start without us!"

Fern turned her head just enough to stick her tongue out at the two boys behind her. "You snooze you lose, suckers," she sneered.

A wild grin spread across her face as she neared the cliff edge. As she came closer and closer to it, she pumped her legs faster and faster. Her feet pounded against the ground and her heart raced in her chest. And then the ground disappeared from under her feet.

She was falling. Falling, falling, falling, falling—and falling fast. So fast that everything around her was a blur, so fast that she couldn't see anything, so fast that she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe—so fast that it was scary. Yes, it was scary, scary, so, so freaking scary that her heart skipped a beat and her mind was going wild. It was that scary, and yet, Fern was—Fern was—

Fern was laughing.

Because even though it was scary, even though it knocked the breath out of her, even though it made her head spin and her heart skip a beat…

It was thrilling. Absolutely wonderful and breath-takingingly amazing. The way the adrenaline rushed through her veins, the way her heart raced in her chest, the way the breath was knocked out of her and all she could do was laugh, laugh, and laugh—it made it amazing. It was so sweet, so wonderful, so new and thrilling and exhilarating, this feeling of falling was, and it was like that so much that she couldn't help but love it.

For a person who claimed to be cautious, Fern had a rather strong love for the daring.

But it was all over in a second.

Fern's arms thrust upwards and her tiny fingers curled around a thin thread. Her whole body hung from the white, slightly sticky substance like a swaying apple from a tree. She pulled herself up onto the strand, plucked up a gray, speckled egg, and placed it carefully into the pocket of her blue vest.

Then, placing one foot in front of the other on the wire, she ran across the string, dashing with the ease of seasoned tight-rope walker. She made her way back up the canyon in a similar way, pushing off strings, grabbing another above her, and swinging from string to string like a monkey until she finally propelled her body off on last string and landed cleanly and silently on the ground, once again at the top of the cliff where she had started.

"Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy," Fern muttered to herself with a smirk as she gripped the egg gentle in her hand.

Laughter came from behind her, and Fern blinked and turned around just in time to spot Killua emerging from the canyon and landing smoothly next to her. "Nice saying, Blondie," he teased, grinning up at her cockily.

Fern rolled her eyes. "I didn't make it up."

He shrugged and grinned wider. "Well, you're still weird for saying it."

She whacked him in the arm.

"Ow!" Killua whined, clutching at the place where she had hit him. "Why are girls so violent?"

Fern rolled her eyes again and crossed her arms against her chest. "Oh, stop whining!" she reprimanded. "And besides, not all girls are violent."

"Ehhh?" The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. "So you're the only violent one?"

Whack!

"Ouch! See, I was right! You are a crazy, violen—

Whack!

"Hey! My point exactly!"

"…..…"

"…What?" Killua taunted, a smirk coming upon his face, "Not gonna hit me again? Did you run out of fuel or something?"

"…My hand hurts," Fern muttered in disbelief. She lifted her hand to show the slightly irritated skin of her left hand. "What are you on, steroids? You dope! What did you do to my hand?"

Silence…

Fern blinked in confusion. "Um, hello?" she asked, furrowing her brow slightly. She waved her hand around in front of Killua's face. "Anyone there?"

He stared at her hand, and he stared, and he stared more, and then—

"You're hands are manly!" Killua suddenly exclaimed boldly, taking his index finger and prodding her hand with it.

"Your mom is manly," Fern snarled, pushing his hand away. "And your sister is too. And for the record, my hands are not manly. You're hands are just girly."

"I don't have a sister," Killua grumbled. "But two of my brothers are really girly," he admitted, thinking. "My mom is insane though."

"What do you know? It runs in the family," Fern said. Then she turned her head towards the pot and motioned at it with her hand. "Now shall we boil our eggs and get on with this exam already?"

Killua sighed and rolled his eyes, sticking his hands in his pockets and making his way towards the pot. "Coming, coming…" He bit back a grin as he sauntered over to her, intentionally whacking the back of her head with his skateboard as he passed.

"Excuse me!" she huffed, running after him.

Payback, he thought to himself with a mischievous grin.

He'd let her whack him earlier. He got the impression she knew he was allowing it, and that was part the reason why she did it—because she knew she could get away with it. It wasn't as though he couldn't have easily dodged each and every one of her whacks, but he hadn't. Why?

Because she was amusing. He didn't really know why he stuck around with her, but he guessed it was because, like Gon, being with her was…well… fun. She was kind of like a good video game too, now that he thought about it. He kept pressing the "games" buttons to see what the "game" would do.

Killua really didn't want for this game to end quite yet. Not the Hunter Exam, not Gon, not Blondie—not even for the old Pops and Kurapika. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to leave. Because like a gamer and their video game, once he started playing it, he couldn't stop.

Would it be so bad to play this game for just a little bit longer?

After all, he wasn't quite sure he was ready for "GAME OVER" to happen yet.

. . .

End of Chapter 11...

Thoughts? Did you like Killua's POV at the end? What do you think of Fern's reluctance to trust others?

Should I update twice a week?

Review. ...Or I'll probably forget to update. I'm not even kidding. That's not a threat, well it is I guess if you like my story that much, but actually it's the truth. If you don't review and remind me that I actually have to update this I kind of forget, because I'm writing like five other things at the same time. I don't know. I think I have short term memory loss or maybe I just hit my head one too many times on a door. I tend to do that. Sooo yeah.

Review.