Hey guys,

Psych, I'm not dead! Honest!

Enjoy the chapter :)

As the foliage of the leaves wrapped around her body, as the silence of the forest leeched away her fury, the presence from before approached.

At first, she had been alarmed. But when the presence continued to close the gap she began to wonder if this presence was truly a sniper. If it was, then it would have stopped approaching her once it reached a certain distance. But this presence was coming closer…as if seeking out melee combat.

A rustle of bushes several yards in front of her jolted her body into a battle stance. A tall, muscular silhouette stepped out. Dark hair, small eyes, middle-aged face, headband. And held securely in a callused hand, a spear—at least six feet long. His build, his presence exuded the confidence of one that knew battle.

"Hold," he commanded, although with what authority he did so Asterra did not know.

"Why should I?" Her fingers were curled securely around the grip of the weapon. "You're not my CO."

He cocked his head. "Those words…you are a soldier."

"Your point?"

"You know how to fight, yes?"

"Once again―your point?"

"My name is Gozu of the Beanu tribe, and I challenge you to a duel."

It took a moment to register the words. When she did, she almost broke out into laughter. What idiot announced a fight? Well, if he insisted on being so kind she would use that to her advantage. "Show me your tag first."

The man's reply was unhesitant. "It was taken."

Which meant fighting this so-called Gozu of the Beanu would be a complete waste of time and energy. "Then I refuse your challenge."

"Refuse?! You cannot refuse a challenge from a Beanu!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Watch me." She started to walk.

Vwooon!

The spear whistled through the air and came to a stop in front of her chest.

"You run from an enemy?!" Gozu demanded. "Have you no honor?!"

Honor.

Honor, honor, honor. That word, once again. First the thick-headed Kurapika, now this self-righteous backwater bumpkin that had yet to get his head out of his ass because of what? Because of his "pride as a warrior"? Because he wouldn't reach his desired destination in the afterlife unless he followed his codes of conduct and myriad of rules that was summarized as "honor"?

Gozu's goading continued. "They teach one honor in the military, do they not?"

Give me a fucking break.

In the next moment, steel was hissing through the air. The spear withdrew from blocking off Asterra's route, instead flashing up to intercept the sword blow with moments to spare.

"You accept my challenge then," Gozu smiled.

An annoyed hiss answered him.

=o=o=o=

As he bounded through the forest too quickly for a quadruped with stubby legs, Kikiri prayed that his apology had worked…that he had bought time for Asterra.

Well, more like bought enough time to persuade Asterra into apologizing to Kurapika. The mere thought of the task made the Dokujo shudder. That was the first time in a long time that Kikiri had seen the Resca lose her temper to such a degree. The last time that had happened, it had taken her a week to calm her down. He didn't even know if there was a week left in the Hunter Exam.

But that train of thought was interrupted as the familiar sound of metal scarping metal reached his ears. Then the smell of Asterra and someone else was stimulating his olfactory nerves.

And…

He snarled and quickened his pace as his brain registered the smell of blood.

Kikiri finally came to a familiar scene of a pissed-off Asterra—her moves were uncontrolled and the air that surrounded her black—blowing off steam through violence. Not against another Trainee, but this time against an older man that was a good foot taller than her. Not that Asterra wasn't capable, but the man had a spear. And he was good with said spear, from the way the weapon moved deftly, as if it had a life of its own, to deflect all of Asterra's attacks.

A quick shove of the spear forward and the blade was thrown off, sending the Resca stumbling backwards.

The man lunged, following the step with a flurry of thrusts. The strikes came at her so quickly she almost tripped over her feet between parrying and avoiding them. She twisted away from a downwards swing, then barely managed to parry another heavy strike.

Not good, not good. This guy was too experienced, too much for Asterra.

Too much for her to beat fair and square.

Kikiri narrowed his eyes, trying to look for an opening to exploit. But the two changed positions and postures much too quickly for him to be able to target a vital. Then there was a pained grunt and a thud as Asterra's back slammed into a tree.

"Is that all, soldier?" the man stepped forward, spear in neutral position.

The orange-haired girl wiped blood away from a cut on her forehead then stood up, using the tree for support. "You wish."

"That's the spirit," the man chuckled, stance widening once more. "Give me a fight worth my life!"

A frown crossed Asterra's features momentarily…and in the same moment, Kikiri saw it. Or them, to be more precise.

Pink butterflies fluttered around the man's back, near his kidney—butterflies Kikiri had seen on corpses of animals. The telltale sign of blood, of wounds yet unhealed. And sure enough through the swarm of pink wings he saw it—a dark splotch, large and growing.

An opportunity, still growing.

=o=

As the blade whistled at her head, Asterra pushed herself off the tree-trunk. There was a tremendous CRASH!—the blade had cleaved through the wood and felled the tree—as she dived towards Gozu's blind spot. The warrior's spear shaft flew backwards at her at a frightening speed.

A sharp twist of her wrist enabled her to deflect the spear shaft away, her bones groaning at the force of the blow. Gozu shifted his grip once more and advanced, leaving Asterra barely enough time to dodge the spear-point, backpedaling, desperately trying to keep her feet from tangling with each other.

Once more the butt of the spear came flying at her—damn that warrior's ability to change grip so quickly!—the round portion on the butt of the spear heading up at her jaw. She rushed to deflect the blow once more, steel meeting polished wood—

—and the sword flew out of her hand, spinning wildly in the air and stabbing the earth fifteen feet away from her.

Shit. She gripped her numb wrist and lunged for the weapon.

Pay attention, you fool!

The butt of the spear whistled through the air at her temple, already too close to dodge by the time the threat had been noticed. Need to block, need to block! She had no shield, no sword, which meant―

A memory flickered in her mind, a voice she never wanted to hear again slithering in her ears. That kick should have broken one of your arms.

But it hadn't.

Knees bent into a low stance. Right arm flew up and over her temple, left hand pressing against right forearm for extra support.

The polished wood slammed into her block, the dull thud contrasting sharply with the amount of pain that flooded the point of impact. A cry escaped her lips as the force of the blow slammed her body into the earth. Clouds of dust kicked up by the movement of earth surrounded the combatants.

"You sacrificed your arm," Gozu murmured. The dust particles around them surrendered to gravity and fell back to the ground. "Admirable, but—" Gozu's words stopped and his eyes widened.

Widened at the sight of a crazed grin on his opponent's face.

"RIGHT KIDNEY!"

Gozu instinctively looked behind him for a moment at the sound of a second voice, of a voice Asterra knew well. She did not think, she did not plan—instinct propelled her forward, fingers of her right hand curled.

"RAAAAGH!"

Gozu turned right into sharp fingernails that sought out his eyes. "Argh!" The man scrambled back, clutching the thin, angry red lines that ran down his cheek and eyelids.

"Tch," Asterra hissed. But she did not fail to take advantage of the momentary blindness to land a roundhouse kick on Gozu's right. A sound like a wet rag being smacked against a hard surface reached her ears; flesh gave way under her shin. Then wetness was spreading against her skin and the man was howling, collapsing to his knees, the spear on the floor, forgotten.

For a moment she stood above the man who had been so formidable moments before. "Where's your honor now, Beanu?" she sneered.

"Asterra, not the time! Come on, let's move!" Kikiri voice urged.

The Resca descended upon the fallen warrior, a vulture upon a carcass, and kicked him once again in the side for good measure…to make sure he stayed down during her retreat. Only then did she pick up Kikiri by the scruff of his neck and bolt.

=o=o=o=

Later that afternoon

Killua grinned as he tossed the #199 tag and caught it again. That made six points; he was set to pass. Now all he had to do was hold onto both tags until the end of the week. That wouldn't be too hard. Just hunker down in a quiet place for a couple days, keep moving places. Standard hunkering-down tactics.

He pocketed the tags and started moving again to a safe place to spend the night.

=o=o=o=

Evening

The fire crackled merrily despite its small size, lighting up the cave and casting shadows on the cave walls. Asterra stared into the heart of the meager fire, chin resting on her knees. The warm Resca blanket she had packed was wrapped around her body to fend off the chilliness that twilight brought.

It was not long after she finished her dinner that Kikiri came back from his hunt with something white and circular clamped between his teeth. "Look what I found," he chirped as he placed the object in front of her.

Asterra's eyes widened as she took in the object…which had the number 197 on it. "A tag? Where did you find it?"

"I found it on a bush."

"On a bush?"

"Mmhmm. It was like it fell there."

"Huh." She looked over the tag, which looked real enough, and stroked Kikiri at the same time. "Well, not the one I was looking for, but a tag's a tag. Nice job!"

The Dokujo beamed at the compliment, then his question cut through the air. "So…about today. You want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

He gave her the "you-know-what-I'm-talking-about" gaze.

"That disagreement with Kurapika? Not really—"

"Asterra, you slammed him against a tree."

"—but I doubt that'll stop you from saying your two jennies."

"It sure won't," the Dokujo chirped.

"Well then—lay into me."

And as per usual, the Dokujo did not disappoint. "I think you should apologize to Kurapika."

"For what?"

"Well, the bit about his eyes looking pretty on a shelf was harsh. Especially since, you know…"

"That his whole clan is dead because of their Scarlet Eyes? All the more reason for him to change his ways so he can survive."

"…Jeez, he really pissed you off, didn't he?"

"He slowed me down. He acted high and mighty, like he was so much better than me. He dismissed my methods. He insulted Mom and Dad." The venom in her voice increased with each word, the last sentence a low snarl. "They had nothing to do with my actions. They're not at fault."

Kikiri cocked his head at her last word. "Fault?" When Asterra did not react to his probing, he changed subjects. "That's not the first time Kurapika has been a 'goody two-shoes,' though. What pissed you off this time?"

"It's the first time he put my life in danger by being one."

"So…you're upset about him risking your life to follow through with his principles?"

"Wouldn't you be? What gives him the right to gamble with my life for his sake? I don't care if he gets his head blown off by being a do-gooder; I just don't want to get caught up in the mess."

"Uh-huh, definitely. I can see where you're coming from there." The Dokujo shifted posture. "Can I say some things, though?"

"You've been 'saying some things' for a while, Kikiri."

"Yes yes, haha, you're sooo funny. Anyways…I thought you, Kurapika, and Leorio were working pretty well together. Gon and Killua, too."

She raised an eyebrow.

"No, seriously. I liked what I saw. Loads better than what I've been seeing for the last couple of years."

Memories flashed in her mind, then—jeering faces blocking every escape route, limbs pinned to the cold earth, blood in her mouth. "The standards weren't very high to begin with."

"I think you should give Kurapika another chance. He doesn't seem like a bad person; if you apologize to him, I think he'll accept it and move on."

"Why do I have to apologize when what I did was right?" She felt Kikiri's claws digging into her skin after saying that and winced.

Kikiri continued, "It's not about right or wrong; it's about letting the other person know that their perspectives and values are more important than your ego."

"Kikiri…You've been with me the longest. These things never work out with me."

"Because you don't give people a chance. One thing you don't like, then BAM! They're done." His voice crescendoed with emotion. "Yeah, Training wasn't exactly the best environment for getting to know people, I'll give you that. But this isn't Training! This is the Hunter Exam!"

"What's so different?"

"The people! These aren't the Resca you've Trained with for the past six years. It's clean slate!" He chirped.

"They're still humans. Starve them enough and they'll forget their ties to others. All that matters is that they themselves are safe and fed." She added some more wood to the fire. "I'll use them to pass. Once I get that License, I don't need them anymore. And if they get their License, they won't need me."

"…Do you really believe that?"

"I know that. I've lived it."

"Ok, let me change the question. Do you want to believe that? That the world is so ugly…that people are so ugly?"

"If that's what required to survive."

…

"I don't want to believe that. I don't want to believe that the world is full of spite and hunger. It's too big a place for that." Solemn eyes looked to Asterra. "I want to see the beauty of it. I want to believe in that."

"…And I promised you, didn't I? That you could use my License to do just that." She smiled. "We've been through hell…what's one more?"

Sad eyes looked to Asterra. "…I won't always be there to walk through hell with you, Asterra."

The Resca's eyes widened.

"You know how long my lifespan is."

Ivory teeth bit down on lips. "No."

"You need human friends you can rely on too—ones that'll be around your whole life."

She clamped her hands over her ears and shook her head. "I don't want to talk about this."

Kikiri's shoulders slumped. "Asterra."

"I'm going to go get fresh air." At that point the girl shed the blanket and half-ran out the cave.

An hour later she came back, her face neutral but her eyes red-rimmed. She then brusquely curled up under her blanket and tried to get some sleep.

=o=o=o=

Dark blue eyes look to him, their innocent light contrasting the content of the inquiry. "Are you afraid? Of killing?"

Sea-green eyes glare at him with the fury of roiling waves, their intensity matched by the snarled words. "Grow a brain, blondie. The underworld will chew you up and spit you out as a corpse if you don't change how you think."

Kurapika's ivory lips pressed into a thin line as the memories ricocheted in his head and refused to fade.

Fear. Change. Mentality.

He wished not to kill if not needed. He had been taught not to kill, not to do anything more drastic than needed. But was that mentality wrong? Was that desire an obstacle?

Just how much did he need to lose in order to avenge his clan? What price was required of him? He had no qualms about sacrificing himself; he was willing to do throw himself in the underworld to achieve his goals. Yet he still found himself mulling over these doubts, the parts of him that had been brought to light by the words of others.

—And then his thoughts were brutally interrupted by the complaints of his companion.

"Ugh, how am I supposed to find my target on this huge-ass island?" Leorio muttered. "Walking around this island is just a big waste of energy."

"Constantly whining would be an even bigger waste of energy," Kurapika replied dryly.

"Yeah, maybe. But I don't have six points like someone."

Kurapika did not reply to the jab; instead he inhaled sharply, his grey eyes wide. Leorio followed the blonde's line of sight to see—

"Nice evening for a stroll, isn't it?" A figure stepped out from the shadows of a tree, the moonlight making his pale skin and golden eyes incandescent.

There was no mistaking the applicant in front of them. "Hisoka," Kurapika replied.

"For crying out loud, why do I keep running into people I don't want to see?" Leorio muttered.

"Fancy seeing you two here…although I remember there being a third person…?" Hisoka mused.

The blonde's voice reply was flat and short. "We went separate ways."

Hisoka raised an eyebrow. "Hmm…had a little tiff, did we? Ah, young blood…so easy to rile. But I digress." He produced two cards. "I'll be direct: I need two more points—can I have your tags?"

"Are you mental?!" Leorio exploded. "Like we'd give them to you!"

"Leorio!" Kurapika warned. "You said that you needed two additional points, which implies that we are not your targets. Correct?"

"Now, now; I'm the one who's asking questions. Will you give me your tags or not?"

"That depends. We currently have four tags—mine, my target's Leorio's, and a tag worth only a single point to us. Of these, only could be the number of your target: mine or the tag worth only a single point. Leorio was #403, and he was targeted by Tonpa, #16 who was my target. Each applicant gets a different target, so #16 and #403 are out."

"Indeed," Hisoka took a step forward. "Neither of those is my target. So?"

"That leaves the other two tags. If you're willing to take the tag worth only one point to us and leave, you can have it. But I will not let you have mine, nor Leorio's and Tonpa's." The two applicants cast aside their bags and drew their weapons as Kurapika continued. "If you insist on taking them by force, then we will reply with force!"

Hisoka eyed them up lazily, pale lips shaped in a smirk. Nothing in his expression betrayed much about what he was thinking. Which made it all the more shocking when his whole body started shaking with laughter. He then inquired to Kurapika, "Out of curiosity, what is your number?"

"#404." Kurapika replied.

The chuckling subsided. "Very well. You have a deal."

Kurapika walked over to his bag and took out the tag only worth one point to them. He then stuck it in a crack present in the bark of the tree, keeping the number side faced away from Hisoka. "I'll put it here."

The red-haired man must have heard the wariness in the voice. "Don't worry; I'll be standing here for a while."

Hisoka stayed true to his word, not moving from his spot until the two applicants had disappeared into the flora. "It's only been a couple of days, but they've grown so much I barely recognized them. Promising, so promising…they still have so much more to learn, though…"

He walked over to the plate number. "Ahh…why must unripe fruit be so tantalizing?" He turned over the plate to reveal #118. "Pity. This isn't it either." He put the tag away, then licked his lips.

And the calm of the night was shattered by a maelstrom of bloodlust.

=o=o=o=

When the malice came, it was sudden and merciless.

The sensation of several megatons crushing her chest and threatening to asphyxiate her shocked Asterra into consciousness. Kikiri was fluffed up next to her, and she could hear the snarl in his voice. "What. Is. That?"

Asterra failed to articulate a reply, the words screeching to a halt as an all-consuming fear constricted her throat. Somehow she maintained enough function to tear at the earthen floor and throw dirt onto the dim fire. As the flame sputtered out and the cave was doused in darkness she wrapped herself in the blanket and curled up in a ball on the floor, jittering, trying to make herself as small as possible. Muscles spasmed, adrenaline flooded her veins and made her heart thunder and struggle against her rib cage. Her breath was both torn from and caught in her windpipe.

What the hell is going on? Her words were harsh, but in the end she was still quaking. All she could do was stay curled up in a ball under the heavy blanket. Within moments the malice had rendered her a child again, hiding from the monsters that surely lurked in her unlit bedroom.

Spirits above, Spirits above…don't let that thing find me.

She couldn't tell where it was coming from, or where the source was, or where the source was going. All she could feel was the weight, the heaviness, the menace that it posed, the desire it had to rip out her throat and revel in the blood that erupted from her arteries.

This was nothing like she had felt in Training. This was nothing she felt like before, even in her dreams.

It should have angered her, this powerlessness. She shouldn't be quaking like this; she should be acting.

But all she could do was quake like a rabbit in its burrow, and all she could think was don't find me.

Don't find me, don't find me, don't find me.

…Because I'm dead if you do.

Thanks for reading to the end!

Btw, happy Valentine's Day! (or Singles Awareness Day. Whichever you prefer ;) )

I personally won't be celebrating...unless you consider studying a method of celebrating it. Lol. But please let me give you all my heartfelt thanks for your patience and for reading and supporting Lattices!

See you in the next chapter,

Rhyss