Isn't it funny how everything that has ever happened to you occurred by a combination of fate and chance? All it takes is one little wrench in the works to set you on a completely different path, altering the course of your life forever. For example, just last week, had I not washed my boots and forgot I left them out in the garden to dry until the moment came that I were to leave and hadn't yet threaded the laces, I would have caught the seven-fifteen ship instead of the eight o'clock, like I'd planned, and gotten to Whale Island a half hour early, like I'd planned, and wouldn't have met Gon, Kurapika, Leorio and Killua until the First Phase, if I made it that far.
And if I were not so inclined towards the outside that I chose to follow Gon's cedar tree tip, I would have gone with Leorio into the fake news trap, even though I ended up underground for a night and a day anyway.
And, if it were not for Gon figuring out the answer of that crazy two-choice test, even though he did not realise it, we would never have made it to that little cabin in the woods, or gotten a lift to the exam site, or gotten the password to enter.
It is just amazing how a butterfly beats its wings some place, and a wind brushes up against our lives to leave a list of perfectly aligned meetings and chances, altering the outcome of what we do not know, forever.
So why was it, that after all these butterflies and wingbeats, that Gon was getting pummelled into mochi dough?
I could not watch. I could not look away. I stared in horrified rage as Gon took kick after punch after hammer from the bald bastard Hanzo. Gon had coughed up everything including blood, and then wiped the floor with his own body.
'I'm going to break your arm.'
It was clear from space what this guy's tactic was, and Gon refused to give up. Even after Leorio screamed at him to quit and even after I shouted abuse at Hanzo from the sidelines.
He broke his arm. All the bones in my own body cried out in rage.
'Don't try to stop me, you two,' Leorio growled through clenched teeth.
I barked out a laugh. 'Don't worry.'
'There's no chance of that,' Kurapika minced. His eyes bled crimson.
With Gon incapacitated, Hanzo took to opportunity to give a victory speech explaining the source of his power, his prowess, he killed a guy once. Oh my god. Break my neck. Hanzo pushed himself up in one-handed handstand, then a four-finger handstand, then three fingers, two fingers, until he was left with one single finger holding up his weight. Which was impressive. But not so impressive as Gon kicking Hanzo's single lonely finger, sending him sprawling. I nearly cried.
Gon climbed to his feet, swaying, clutching his lifeless arm. 'My head has cleared after all that pain and the long speech!'
The tide turned. All the adrenaline from holding ourselves back manifested itself in unbridled, biased joy.
'Kick his ass!' I yelled.
'Destroy him!' Leorio screamed.
We had to watch two more rounds of intimidation before the fight ended. First, Hanzo feigned stabbing Gon with a naked blade that just happened to be strapped to his arm. Then, he threatened to cut his legs off so that they 'could not be reattached'. Yikes. And yet, because this boy was full of surprises, we were gifted with this gem:
'I don't want my legs cut off, but I don't want to lose either. Let's find a way to work this out!'
Gon could be so selfish! But that's what made him special. And bruised up like a plum. A knocked out plum.
~oOo~
I had expected to fight Kurapika after he lost his match. It was not so much having low expectations as realistic ones – there were only so many times we had tasted bloodlust in this exam.
You can imagine my surprise when I had to fight Hisoka instead.
The two of us faced off in the arena. Hisoka stood opposite me, lean and slender with terrifying grace. He was a long-ranger fighter – one with an especially quick draw. Both my weaponry and martial arts relied on the assumption of close-range combat. Bloody hell. I swore that if I lived to develop another style that it would be distance fighting.
'Ready, begin!'
The cards came. They whizzed past my face, my ears, my arms. I could not land a single sit so long as I was focused on dodging. Hisoka would not even grant me the courtesy of dodging my attacks, like he did with Kurapika. It was time to change tactics.
I deflected the oncoming cards by spinning my scythes in a pinwheel motion in front of my body. My arms jarred with the surprising force and I winced. I sped up. I weaponised my defence and charged at him, pivoting at the last second to the left.
Hisoka's eye widened then narrowed in a wicked smile. I frisbeed one of the scythes mid-jump, and watched it go wide. A gleam of triumph sparked in the clown's eyes. Jerk.
Enraged, I dragged the airborne scythe back by pulling on its twin, in an arc finishing at Hisoka's neck.
The blade never found its mark.
My legs were swiped out from beneath me by a powerful foot sweep. I fought to regain my centre of gravity by gripping my fingertips into the floor and throwing my weight forward. I rolled back onto my feet, hands empty. My scythes lied discarded some feet away.
Oh, dear.
Hisoka advanced, one hand behind his back. I dropped into a fighting stance, one leg back, both hands in front of my body. Hisoka pitched his arm at me and I made to block, but instead of a blade he was holding a photograph.
'I believe the Lisbon princess is looking for a little lost lamb.' Hisoka smiled, eerily as per usual.
I stopped short. On the sidelines, Leorio was screaming something at me. I held a photograph of a teenage girl, waist-long midnight black hair and eyes in the shape of almonds. She was not aware of being photographed. Her lips were pursed thoughtfully, gazing at something unseen. In the background was a junkyard, and the bareback of a man. A spider tattoo. The number five.
'The little lamb is caught by a big bad wolf,' Hisoka sang.
Stunned, I stepped back. Eight years without a peep. She was alive. She was fed and clothed.
Hisoka surrendered. I did not understand.
~oOo~
What happened next made even less sense. Even now, as Kurapika's buying airship tickets to take us to Killua's place, I was still trying to make sense of things.
1. All Killua wanted was to be friends with Gon
2. Killua's brother said no
What?
None of us sat peacefully at the debriefing of the exam. We had passed, but no one was happy. In the auditorium of the hotel, everyone was silent as Chairman Netero talked to us about the privileges of the Hunter licence, the dangers it could pose and all sorts of other jazz. Leorio was stewing quietly, as quietly as that man can be anyway. Kurapika muttered under his breath about hypnosis. I was still stunned silly about Sumi's picture.
It was a relief when Gon banged open the door and demanded to know where Killua had gone. His arm was in a sling. We left straight away.
Onwards, to fetch cheeky, unlovable assassin brat!
~oOo~
The airship was really comfy and we had a cabin all to ourselves. The seats were a nice plush sea-green colour, soft and high-backed. I sat opposite Gon, who frowned out the window. Kurapika and Leorio had gone on an on-board Maccas run for us.
I could not stop looking at the photo of Sumi. It was becoming creased from being put away and taken out of my pocket so many times. She was alive. She was pretty. Nicky was going to crap his pants. I pulled out my phone and hit Nicky's number. It went to voicemail. I dialled again. Two rings.
'Risumi, we're busy. Nicky will call you back.' It was Del's voice. High and brisk. I had so many questions, but mostly just: What?
An ice-cold can was pressed against my cheek and I gasped in surprise and flinched away. I looked reproachfully at Kurapika who was chuckling as he set down the drinks. Across from me, Gon had been similarly bothered by Leorio who had stuck a fry into the kid's mouth. He told him that we would find Killua soon, cheer up, and Gon smiled for a minute then went back to brooding. One way or another, Killua was going to be dragged out of his house by this hot-headed bull child.
'What do you have other there?' Leorio asked me, pointing with his chin, mouth full. The photograph from Hisoka was half-covered by a discarded burger wrapper. I picked it up gingerly with my non-greasy fingers and held it up for them to see.
'Is that… you?' He squinted short-sightedly. I shook my head.
'That would be Sumi.' I must have looked as bewildered as I felt because they mirrored my expression. 'She's with Phantom Troupe,' I said, slowly, gauging Kurapika's reaction, which was instantaneous.
'The spiders?' His tone was sharp. I nodded and pointed to the tattoo in the background.
'I don't really understand what's going on,' I told them. But soon, an inkling would brew in my gut, and slowly take shifting smoky shape. Sumi, the little girl in those photographs, went missing roughly two days after I was 'dropped off' in the woods. Did those two events have anything to do with each other? Was Sumi just collateral?
~oOo~
I woke up in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep. I sat half-reclined in my seat for a while, listening to the others' snores before pacing up and down the aisle. The airship was still miles away from the Republic of Padokea, sailing over a big black sea. How did Sumi come to be involved with the Spiders? I couldn't fathom it. If she was being held against her will, how would I breach their stronghold to steal her home? If she was there voluntarily, how could I convince her to come with me?
'What are you doing?' a sleep voice asked. It was Kurapika, a light sleeper as always.
'I don't know,' I replied, sounding sad even to my own ears. Grey eyes watched me make my way back down the aisle towards him.
'Sleep,' Kurapika said, reaching out and grabbing my hand. It was warm and I let him take mine. He pulled me down into my seat next to him, gave me a smile, and closed his eyes. His breathing became slow and even. I was impressed. Quick to rise, quick to sleep. Slowly, the questions churning in my head were reduced to a low buzz and I sank into it.
The next morning, I tried to get up and found myself tethered by the hand that was still holding Kurapika's. Confused, I tried to let go but his hand held mine tightly. Heat rushed to my face. Luckily, Leorio was still snoring loudly, or I would never live this down. But Gon was up. He beamed and put a finger to his lips.
'I won't tell,' he said.
'N-no, Gon. It isn't like that,' I stuttered, but he just kept giving me that trusting innocent smile. I gave up.
Years later, I would come back to this moment, miles above the sea, under a peach coloured sky, on our way to rescue our friend, and remember the time those particular butterflies first visited me. But for now, I just let his hand hold mine, under that raspberry-streaked sky, as I avoided Gon's smile.
~oOo~
Howdy readers!
I have been on a roll with writing lately, but stopped last week to complete an assignment. The stride has been broken and I may as well end it here. This is what I have for now. See you next time :)
I have another fic that I dropped the ball on for a long time. I'm going to try my best to work on them together. Here it is, if thou would be pleaseth to give it a squiz: s/11516085/1/Blonde-at-the-End-of-the-Blue
