They say even the poorest flower blooms once in its lifetime. It's that's the case I fear I may have hit my prime graduating from white belt.

They say hunters have epic access to information and resources. And I really need that. Which is why I'm stuck on a ship with several hundred other blokes. They're the rough kind of men, all big and hairy with weapons of steel and looks to match. B.O. too. I'm small and scrawny but I smell like flowers.

All I can see for miles is blue: Blue skies, blue water, blue future… The endless stretch of ocean was pretty three hours ago but the novelty's worn off now and I'm alternately devastatingly bored and acutely agitated. I lean my back against the deck rails and take out a book. I try to read but the words don't process, like a checkout girl scanning items.

Some time and two chapters later, we arrive at Whale Island. Who named it? The island is literally shaped like a whale. It's peaceful and pretty, I bet it's one of those places where everybody knows everybody else. Whale Island is our last stop before Doles Harbor. A few more big blokes climb on. At the end of the line is a blonde. He stood out. He doesn't have weapons or visible muscles, he reading a book while walking, looking very aloof.

His blonde hair shone in the sun and his grey eyes sharp and calculating. He wore a white training suit under a blue and red tabard thingy. If you looked closely, he was extremely pretty; his skin soft and creamy and his body lean. If you didn't look closely, you would assume he was a girl. I studied him but finally decided that I would have to find out his gender some other time. (I'm assuming it's a dude.)

He sat down and continued reading his book, eyes following the words on the page keenly. Mine sat limply in my hand.

Some of the other contestants were making sexist jokes. "Little girlies should run back to their mamas," one of them jeered. Original.

"Go on, go play with your dollies!" another crowed. I don't have either so I put my middle finger up at them. The other guy didn't react but he probably heard everything. Morons, gender isn't a representation of power. Snails have five butt-holes, bet you didn't know that, did you?

When the jokes became vulgar, I frisbee-launch my book straight at the hairy guy's face, leaving a thin rectangular mark across the bridge of his nose. I grin impishly.

"Why you little bitch!" the hairy man yelled.

"You're a bitch!" I retort, full of wit and intelligence. He lunges for me but I side-step and he crashes into the wall behind me. Heh-heh. He stands up and tries again. I dodge and this time he crashes into his mates, all of them lie in a pathetic cussing heap. My middle finger made another solo appearance. It really is true, the bigger you are, the harder you fall.

After some time they manage to separate themselves and this time, all of them come for me. I punch two of them at once, plant my hands on the deck and flip my legs over my body so that my feet smacks the ears of the other two, destroying their sense of balance.

I look down on a sea of male faces chortled is pain, humiliation and anger. "Don't worry guys," I drawl, "no matter what, my middle finger will always stick up for you." I smile sweetly as my finger rose tall as their protector and offender.

The ship has begun to move.

~oOo~

I'm hanging upside down on the pole of one sail when obnoxious yelling and screaming filled the air. One green and one blue figure narrowly miss me on their way down from the sky.

The blue one is an adult dressed in a suit. He landed in an ungraceful heap on the deck, cursing all the way. The green one is just a brat. He's a good few years younger than me, what's he doing here? The kid's wearing a green jacket with a red trim and green shorts. He had a fishing rod strapped to his backpack. Strange choice of weapon. The man is wearing a dark blue suit and holding a brief case… doubt he's here for the Exam, wouldn't survive for ten minutes. But that's what the other guys on the ship thought about me so I guess I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

What a pair they make. The suited man complains loudly and the boy dressed in green tries his best to calm him down. Their roles are quite reversed.

I can feel the warn sunlight softly on my skin, a soft breeze gently combs through my hair. Sleepiness swamps my mind and I fall asleep. Hanging up-side down.

~oOo~

The sharp agitated calls of the seagulls pierce my mind. A flock of them were circling the crow's nest. Living in the forest has its perks – I can speak bird. They were totally freaked out. A waft of rain scented wind wafted fast my nose. It's probably going to rain. Judging from what the birds are fussing about, it'll be a heckuva big storm.

The scent of rain is still pretty weak, it'll probably take the storm another two hours to hit. Depends on the wind.

I watch as the little boy from earlier sniffed the air. His eyes widen and he jumps like a ninja onto the rigging, higher and higher he goes until he was hanging off the crow's nest. He uses one hand to block the sun from his face and inhales deeply. He jumps back down.

"Onee-chan!" his over-enthusiastic voice rang. I just stare at him as I take in his appearance. His hair completely defies the law of physics. A rebel, I like him. Although I cannot smell any form of the sticky stuff people rub into their hair it sticks straight up. His large eyes reflect innocence and gullibility. He is frowning a little. A slight twist of his facial features.

"Onee-chan," he calls again, "a storm is coming, a very big one!" he spreads his arms wide to demonstrate. "Be careful! I'm going to warn the others!" he begins to run off.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, though." I call back. He skids to a violent stop and runs back to me.

"Ehh? How did you know?" he asks.

"The air smells like rain, and the birds are talking about it," it finally occurs to me that this random kid can tell a storm is coming when the sky is clear and shiny.

"I can smell the rain, too, but I can only understand a bit of the seagulls."

"You're one smart kid!" I exclaim, "Say, how long do you reckon it'll take the storm to hit?"

"Hmm... in about two hours." he says confidently.

"You got it, dude!" I pat his head. His hair bends under my touch. Screw science.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the captain peer around the corner and his eyes alternate between the boy and me. He must think we're psychos.

Well, I don't like the cosy indoors so I'm going to stay out here until the actual storm comes.

~oOo~

It's been at least two hours and no one has bothered to wake me up. I like high places but somehow I've ended up sleeping lengthwise on the pole the sails hang off. In the middle of a blinking storm. Heartless pieces of crap. IT'S COLD! My clothes are completely soaked and my hair is plastered to my head. I can feel my body shivering desperately but I can't feel any part of it.

I clumsily jump down onto the deck, slip on the water and the floor attacked my butt. I curse loudly. Freezing storm water pelted down on my body like little miniature bullets. Waves washed over the deck, and me. Shivering like a leaf, I staggered to open the door to the cabin we were all told to sleep in. My shaking fingers grasped at the slippery door knob and somehow manages to yank it open. As soon as I opened it, a few disoriented men hurled out of the door. I staggeringly stepped aside and all of them flew out and over the deck rail – into the raging sea. Close one, I could have gone in too.

I stagger into the room and slam the door closed behind me. I weigh my options: the Blondie is occupying the only hammock, the guy in the suit is lying on the floor reading what I can tell from this distance is a dirty magazine. The kid from earlier is currently surfing on a rolling barrel. In the centre of the room is the bottom bit of the mast, it came in through the ceiling and kept going down below.

I make a beeline for the mast, dodging the flying men causes me lose my momentum a few time but I make it. I clamp onto the pole with both arms and legs wrapped tightly around it and quickly inched my way up.

I stayed there like that for a while, and eventually fell asleep again, clinging on tightly.

~oOo~

The seas have calmed down relatively. The little kid in green was now jumping around helping the men ridden with motion sickness. Not that I could blame them, it was almost like the ship decided to go through that demon possessed storm.

I slid down and grabbed my bag off a hook in the corner. I stripped quickly behind some crates and changed into a white tank top and a soft pink t-shirt with a wide V-neck and a short, black, pleated skirt. I upend my combat books and let the water splash out with satisfaction. Damp socks and boots weren't nearly so satisfying though.

Heavy footfalls vibrated through the floor. A few seconds later, the door swings open and the captain's face peeks through. He scans the room with distain before the little flash of green catches his eye. He grins lopsidedly. His eyes then swing towards Blondie. Blondie looks up at the captain before returning to her book. The captain tilts his head up and gives me a weird look, I stick my tongue out. The captain spots the perverted man next. He takes a huge bite out of a green apple and immediately spits it back out. "Pheeeew! These apples are sour!" he exclaims.

The captain waves his hand at us. "You four, come with me." I jammed my wet clothes in a plastic bag, slung said bag across my chest and got up to follow. Everyone else does the same.

~oOo~

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