A/N: A big thank you to all of you reading my story, and showing your support by adding it to your favorites and subscriptions, by writing reviews – you give me motivation to keep working on it and it really means a lot. I enjoy writing it and seeing that it provoked a reaction strong enough for somebody to share their thoughts with me or actively follow it is a truly unique feeling that never gets old. You are great! On to the next chapter.

Say My Name

Hisoka was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall of a narrow corridor, winding down after another fight that proved all too easy; his blood lust no longer easily sated since he'd had the first unwanted dream. The night before proved troublesome as well. He saw his little pine again… Aada, he immediately corrected himself. He would not call her by the pet name he gave her anymore, even if it sounded strange and unfamiliar. This time they were both sprawled on the grass under his favourite beech tree outside the clinic, and she was sitting between his legs with her back against his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around her waist. She was gesturing animatedly, telling him about a complex surgery she'd done that day and swatted him playfully when he tried distracting her by running his tongue along her earlobe. He had been livid when he woke up, and he still was. He was furious; his mind, so well trained in forgetting things that no longer held importance, apparently refused to do so in his sleep and from there the unwanted thoughts and memories gradually crept back into his waking hours. He heard footsteps, but chose to ignore them.

"You were amazing."

Hisoka's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. The woman standing close by was a pretty, delicate thing, blonde hair, and big blue eyes that were glazed as she watched him with hunger. It often surprised him how many people like her visited the Arena, watching the fights to sate their growing craving of a thrill, a taste of something dangerous to spice up their lives, and eventually taking action to make their desires a reality. He snickered; he'd used ones like her in the past, and this was just what he needed, another way to erase the pesky thoughts of the one he didn't want to remember, a way to prove that what he'd had with her was of no importance, to degrade it, tarnish it until it held no more sway over him. There was one thing only the woman standing opposite him expected, and he was more than happy to oblige. He got up and walked past her, but then stopped and looked back. It was enough for her to follow.

When they reached his room, Hisoka didn't waste time. He threw her on the bed and was on top of her in a second, intent on sating his cravings. In the past, these quick encounters, the act of dominating and taking the willing body beneath him were enough to give him satisfaction and move on. The woman moaned and tried embracing him. He pinned her hands above her head with one hand, the other unbuttoning her blouse impatiently.

Hisoka settled between her legs, and she arched into him. He bit into her neck hard, inhaling deeply out of reflex, and froze. Roses. Vanilla. Powdery musk. His mind went blank as he fought the memory of another scent, one he wanted to forget so desperately. Too late – it was etched in too deep in his subconscious, cascading down on him in dark, sharp, dry waves of pine resin, needles, moss, incense and damp leaves. It was but a short moment, but once the memory washed away, Hisoka felt that no matter how much he wanted to deny it, the sweet, powdery scent that he could smell now was making him nauseous. He growled angrily as he couldn't concentrate anymore. The woman sensed his hesitation and tried to kiss him, and that's when he snapped.

"Get out." He said and rolled off of her, lay back and covered his eyes with his arm. He could feel she was still there and he lifted his arm slightly to glare at her. She looked back at him, wide eyed, surprised, and he felt he'd had enough.

"Get out." He repeated, his voice menacing, "Or I'll kill you."

The woman scrambled off the bed, gathering her clothes, and mumbling something angrily. He couldn't care less.

When he heard the door close, Hisoka lay back on the bed, his hand reaching into his pants. As he stroked himself, the images appeared on their own, unbidden, mocking him; green eyes, full, plump lips on his skin, dark brown hair, a serpent tattoo.

'I want time to enjoy all of you… Even if only for tonight…'

"Leave me alone." His voice sounded strained as he uttered the words. "I don't want you."

Both his mind and body did not seem to obey; his thoughts overflowing with the memory of pale skin marred with dried droplets of blood and delicate, questing hands trailing his skin.

"Get out of my head!" he growled.

'You are beautiful.' His mind was mocking him, and he could almost feel the touch of mouth and tongue on his neck. He bit his lip, no longer fighting to suppress the images in his head; it felt too good.

'My magician, mine…'

He moaned, this time remembering the scent of his own volition, almost strong enough to become real, then the warmth of the body beneath him, the pressure of legs wrapped around his hips.

"Say my name." he whispered into the darkness, not caring anymore, only wanting to find his release.

'Hisoka… Hisoka, mine.'

His back arched as he came, angry that the intensity did not match what he had experienced with the one he was so adamantly trying to push in the oblivion of his past. He lay in the dark, breathing heavily, his head spinning as he was being pushed between excitement, anger and a strange, hollow feeling of loss. He sat up and sipped water from a glass on his night stand, then hurled it across the room, furious, watching the shattering glass and silvery droplets settling on the floor. He felt humiliated and defeated.

That night, Hisoka dreamt of small, fragile arms holding him close, fingers stroking his hair and back, cool mouth touching his forehead and smiling against his skin. He woke up abruptly when it was still dark, even angrier than before. There was no place for weakness in his life. He never dwelt on the past, he lived for the present, for the future; he kept repeating the words, until he calmed down a bit. He would move on.

'…don't think I will stay like this forever. It will take time, but I will move on. And one day, you'll mean nothing to me. Nothing but a mistake.'

Aada's parting words replayed in his head immediately, filling him with anger, his fragile calm immediately shattered. Hisoka thought of her moving on the same way he had tried to, imagining her writhing in pleasure under a body holding her down, moaning as she was being taken by someone other than him. He felt the familiar spike of bloodlust and his hand clenched in a fist.

I should have killed her, he thought, his mind racing. I can still kill her and be free of this ridiculousness. I will.

I want to kill her.

I should kill her.

I should want to kill her.

I don't want to kill her.

I can't.

Why? Why can't I?

Hisoka got up and went to the small kitchenette, careful not to step into the broken glass in the dark. He poured himself a glass of whisky and downed it immediately. He poured another one and turned around to walk towards the window, but changed his mind mid movement and grabbed the whole bottle. He sat down in the armchair at the huge window that made up most of the wall and looked into the night, surprised by the view that he never paid much attention to, a myriad of warm lights flickering in the dark beneath deep, nocturnal ultramarine littered with pale sparks. It evoked memories of stargazing with Aada and he cursed. He drew the curtains, choosing to cut himself from the traitorous view, and resorted to drinking in the dark. Half a bottle later he found himself in front of a silvery laptop, a trinket he'd acquired recently on a whim and had not used much. He quickly input his username and password, then opened the browser and took another swig of his drink. His fingers moved automatically, as if on their own accord, and before long he was looking at the results of his search, shooting the two innocent words with a venomous look, as if they were the ones to blame for his current state.

Aada Holme

He was about to close the laptop lid when he noticed a result on top of the list that had not been there when he researched Aada before. Without thinking, he clicked it. Apparently, his little pine… he paused; Aada had written an article about the hip replacement method she came up with, the one she'd discussed with him one night, so many days ago. It was interesting enough to be included in the latest issue of Yorkshin Medical Journal that he knew she liked reading so much. He didn't want to read it. He really didn't, it was only because he was bored, he told himself as his eyes scanned the text quickly, the sentences shaping up logical and brilliant conclusions proving clearly that the one he left behind still shone just as bright as he remembered.

Hisoka felt conflicted and his emotions ran fast as usual – a surge of pride and then something dangerously close to longing were almost immediately replaced by a wave of anger. He drank the rest of the whisky from his glass and stared at the screen accusingly. A small pop up window appeared like an eager puppy, undeterred and happy to be finally shown some attention after so many days of neglect.

Would you like me to set these search criteria as favourite and alert you of new results in the future? YES/NO.

Hisoka's head was spinning when he clicked blindly and then walked back towards the bed, not caring to switch his computer off. He fell on the covers and forgot about his actions even before he let a heavy, alcohol-induced dreamless sleep claim him.

Come morning, Hisoka woke up and groaned, feeling a blunt headache pressing against his temples. He got up slowly and shook his head, trying in vain to be rid of the swaying sensation he was feeling. After drinking copious amounts of water and taking a quick shower, he decided that he'd only go the arena as a spectator that day.

He left the room soon after, humming quietly, wondering where to find something decent to eat before spending the day scouting for a new interesting opponent. Approximately thirty minutes after the laptop screen lit up again and the mouse pointer started moving around on its own. The browser opened and a pop up window appeared immediately.

Welcome back, Magician. Would you like me to use your favourite search criteria? YES/NO

The pointer swiftly moved to YES and lingered for a while, hovering above the results for Aada + Holme. It moved more, skipping through articles and images. Then the browser was closed, and the pointer stopped moving.

When he came back to his room in the evening, Hisoka felt much better. He found several individuals that day interesting enough to give him a slight rush of excitement and he was looking forward to using them to sate his bloodlust. Even though subconsciously he knew they were substitutes for the one he wanted to fight the most, they would do for now. He was itching to fight Chrollo and knew he wanted to resume his chase, but needed to calm down and forget first. He had to concentrate only on his future fight with the head of the Phantom Troupe if he wanted to draw true pleasure from it.

As he was walking towards the kitchenette he noticed that his laptop was still open on the desk and his brow furrowed. He vaguely recalled using it the night before but didn't remember much of it. Curious, he walked over to the desk and brushed his fingers on the touchpad. As soon as the screen lit up, Hisoka froze and then took several steps back.

The black and white picture of a younger Aada, the one he found when he was researching her in the past was staring at him from the screen. Just like before, it stirred the need to be next to her and protect her from harm; like cold sand that swirls in the lake, muddying the water when one stepped into it fast, it rose from the depths of his thoughts, once again threatening to take away the small amount of clarity he was able to regain that day. He didn't remember finding this picture and certainly not setting it as the laptop wallpaper, but he did drink too much that night. He must have, and he didn't want to analyze what it might have meant.

His bungee gum shot out of his hand like a whip, attaching itself to the computer and then hitting it against the wall repeatedly until it was smashed to pieces. Hisoka was breathing heavily, trying to come to terms with a truth that scared him. He wasn't able to forget, and he wasn't sure how to deal with that fact. He spun around fast and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

"There's so much anger in you."

Hisoka raised his head, surprised by the quiet and calm voice that disturbed his train of thought. His favourite Arena bar was almost empty at this time of night, making the situation even more surreal. The person standing next to his table was short and stocky, wearing baggy blue and green clothes completed by a brown hat. It was her voice, distinctively feminine, that revealed her gender more than her looks. Long front teeth protruded from her mouth, making her look almost as some bizarre mix of a human and a rodent with a round, full moon face surrounded by strands of mousy grey hair. Big, round eyes had a worried look in them, but had a strange, calming effect.

"Who are you?" he asked angrily. "What do you want?"

The woman sat down, not asking his permission, undeterred by the hostility in his voice.

"I'm no one special." She replied. "I just heard you from outside, and it got me worried."

"Heard me?" Hisoka was confused. He was sure he said nothing aloud, drinking in silence, carefully avoided by all other patrons.

The woman nodded.

"Yes." She confirmed. "Your heartbeat."

"My… what?" What she was saying was absurd and at first Hisoka thought she was out of her mind, until his curiosity took over and he followed a hunch, activating his gyo. The faint wisps of greenish aura surrounding the woman confirmed his suspicion.

"A hunter?" he probed.

The woman nodded.

"I can hear everyone's heartbeat here, but yours stands out. It's the angriest one around. Violent. It screams at me. Throws me off balance." She explained. "I don't like it when that happens. Makes me lose sleep."

"So you followed it, to make it all better and get a good sleep?" Hisoka felt a bit of amusement, which was a nice change after another sizeable portion of whisky and self-directed anger for not being able to forget. There was something endearing about this strange, mousy woman that was making it difficult for him to be angry at her.

"Yes." She said matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hisoka chuckled quietly.

"What can you hear then, exactly?" he asked. Every distraction was welcomed, even a bizarre one.

Big, round eyes shone when they looked at him carefully and the woman remained silent for a while, probably weighing her words.

"You are curious now, and grateful for a distraction. But the anger is still there. It is mostly directed towards yourself, but also someone else, isn't it?"

Hisoka's eyes widened, but the woman continued before he could say anything.

"Your heart has just skipped a beat. I am right, aren't I?"

Hisoka stayed silent; out of reflex, his thoughts immediately focused on Aada.

"You are thinking about them now. You feel very conflicted. For some reason, you're angry with them, but now that I can listen past the anger, I can clearly hear something else too."

"What is it?" He asked, curious.

The mouse woman's head tilted slightly to the left, her gaze accepting and understanding.

"Longing."

As soon as he heard the word, Hisoka got angry again but went on the defensive, something he rarely resorted to.

"That's not true."

The woman shook her head.

"You can lie to yourself, but not to me. I can hear it when you do." She said calmly. "You have to either forget whoever you're thinking of, or accept them and find a way to make them fit in your life. Otherwise, you'll drive yourself mad."

Hisoka shook his head.

"I don't have to find anything."

"Oh, but you want to." The woman's smile was unnerving.

"You sound like a cheap fortune teller." Retorted Hisoka. "It's impossible to tell that only from a person's heartbeat, even with nen."

"Is it really?" the woman got up, reached into her pocket and retrieved something. To Hisoka's amazement, it was a flute.

She set to play a beautiful, light melody that immediately made him feel calmer; it was joyous and bright, like soaring songbirds and warm wind of springtime. As he watched her, stunned into silence, the woman put the flute away and smiled at him reassuringly.

"There's only as much that I can do for you." She said. "You'll need to figure out the rest by yourself. The sooner you stop lying to yourself, the sooner things will become clear."

Hisoka shook his head, surprised. He didn't even notice when the woman left. When he returned to his room, the eerie feeling of calm was still upon him, surely the after-effect of another nen ability of his unexpected, strange bar companion. He lay down and slowly succumbed to a deep sleep, feeling relaxed despite his inner turmoil, and did not wake until morning.

Aada woke up with a start at the sound of her phone ringing, her heart beating fast. Ever since her parents and then Henn, she feared nightly calls – they usually meant nothing good. In the dark, she reached out towards the nightstand to grab the phone and hit her hand against the wood, her glasses falling to the floor. She cursed, finally found the phone and when she brought closer to her face, her brows furrowed – she didn't know the number the call was coming from. She waited a few rings, thinking it was probably someone dialing the wrong number, but the phone kept ringing. Still confused, she tapped 'accept'. It may have been a call from the hospital.

"Hello?" she said, her voice was still groggy from sleep.

She only heard a bit of static as there was no response.

"Who is this?"

Again, silence was her only answer, but whoever was calling stayed on the line, listening. Still barely awake and unable to think clearly, she succumbed to a sudden thought, or more of a wish.

"Is that you…?" she asked quietly, her voice shaking a bit, and paused for a second. "Is that you, Hi-so-ka?"

She thought she could hear a sharp intake of breath, and latched onto her hope, disregarding her resolution to not think of him.

"I'm… I'm still angry with you." She said, unprepared and not knowing how to convey what she felt. "But either way... I miss you. Just… come back, Hi-so-ka. Come back home, ok?"

She waited, her heart hammering against her ribs, wanting him to say something, anything, but no words came in response, and as her mind cleared more, she felt humiliated again.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot." She said bitterly. "You don't care. If you don't want to come back, leave me alone, please. Let me move on."

When her plea met silence yet again, she breathed in deeply, trying to calm down.

"Farewell, Hi-so-ka. This is the last time we speak." She said, and hung up.

She held the phone against her chest for a while, biting her lip and forcing herself not to cry. She didn't want to, not because of him, not again. She curled up in a ball and put a pillow over her head, but sleep eluded her for many hours.