I know this chapter is super short but I was struggling a bit with this sort of in-between bit. Anyway, i also wanted to try and dip my toe back into Morie's story so this seemed like a decent amount.

I'm counting on you guys to review so that I know that I'm headed in the right direction!

Chapter Seven

Breathe. My mother's breath was warm and steady against my cheek, centering me. Beneath my lids, I saw blackness mixed with the flickers of candlelight that dotted the living room. What do you see?

Even as a child, I thought it was a silly question. Darkness, I would think. The underside of my eyelids, I supposed would be another answer. But that would get mama mad at me and I hated it when she looked at me like that. So I stayed quiet. If I didn't give an answer then she couldn't be disappointed.

You have to see something, peanut, she would whisper and I would stay quite still. Because there was nothing that I could tell her. The edge. That's what you see. That darkness is the very edge of what you are. If you know your boundaries than no one will be able to defeat you.

Then there was the lavender scent of her breath across my cheeks. A chill and she was pulling away. I stared into the darkness within. What I never said was that I didn't see an edge. I saw an infinite darkness, no borders, no restraints. But I kept my mouth shut. I stayed silent, afraid that my mom would tell me that my borders lay just against my skin, no way of moving, no ability to grow.

I woke slowly, taking in the quiet whir of the engines. We had idled in the same place, this little tin can bobbing against the ebb and flow of the wind on the horizon. For a while, I had paced along the hallways, peeking into rooms and drawing shapes on the windows. But eventually, I had grown bored. And then the boredom had turned into exhaustion.

They've already come back. I sat up, taking in the sleeping forms of my brothers, all curled up into a corner, heaped on top of each other like a pile of dogs. They must have found me shortly after the test. Minoru had situated himself against the door, his eyes watchful as they scanned over me. They were complaining that you took all of the blankets.

They won't be the only ones. At seeing the sorry cot that each room held along with the thin knit blankets, I had decided to collect all the blankets from each room to make a small nest. Even so, there had only been a few rooms that could be used as resting areas - five at the most. The rest of the contestants were probably crammed into the other four. Well, more than likely the other three. There was no way that anyone would invade Hisoka's space.

Something buzzed unhappily in the back of my mind as I stared at the clinical walls, the feeble bookcase in the corner of the room without any actual books but dustless. My muscles tensed beneath my skin, something edgy and rageful crawling just beneath the surface. The tests so far had been irritatingly simple. My teeth gnashed together. Did I want more of a challenge? That wasn't what I had come here for. That was my mother talking. The ghost of her spirit still floating all around me.

Did you dream about her again? Minoru's eyes were cutting as I rubbed at my neck, the skin there growing irritated and starting to burn. I didn't answer, staring into those dark, beady eyes of his. Yes, I wanted to say. Yes. And I hate it. I hate that I remember her. I hate that she's always here even when I know she shouldn't be. I hate that I know what she would think of me and how disappointed she would be. I hate her.

I shifted my eyes away, turning more fully into the cocoon of blankets around me. I don't want to talk about it.

And on the other side of our link, there was a knowing silence. And I hated that too.

While half of the ship slept, the other half was just waking up. A first mate knotted his tie while he thought about the girl that he had left back home and how her hair had smelled like honeysuckle in the morning. A captain pondered over the changing of the winds, wondering if he should mention it or if that slight increase meant little to nothing in the grand scheme of things.

And a group of hungry examiners sat down to a posh dinner of fresh bread, strawberry clouds with a raspberry glaze and a variety of other meals that many of the contestants sleeping just half a ship away had never even heard of before.

"How many do you think will remain this year?" the green-haired gourmet hunter inquired, sitting forward in her seat with an almost ravenous gleam in her eyes.

Buhara's beady eyes shifted to her, his brows tipping down as he took an entire platter of pork belly. Beside him, a pile of plates was quickly accumulating. "Do you mean those that will pass?"

"Yes," Menchi said, a dreamy kind of smile curling her lips. Across the table from Buhara, Satotz sat quietly, taking in the almost jittery aura around the gourmet hunter. Just a few hours before, she had been ready to saute every last one of them. His mustache twitched. Now she seemed almost giddy with joy. "It's not often that this many talented people make it... Even if I did try to fail all of them."

Buhara frowned a bit. The truth was that these contestants had only made it through two exams - and at that, their arrogance had nearly failed them all in the last one. "It depends on the next test though."

"That's true, yes." Her wide green eyes flickered. "Did you notice something during the test? A few of the contestants seemed very promising. What do you think, Satotz?"

Fork and knife posed above a roast with fresh cream and herbs, the purple-haired examiner paused. He didn't hesitate. "I have to agree. The contestants this year are pretty good."

"You think so too?" Menchie grinned. "I have my eyes on number 294."

Satotz thought of the winged brows of the bald contestant, remembering his boasts about being a ninja. No. He couldn't quite agree. Too loud. "I have my eyes on number 99."

Menchi laughed, that pesky, little brat with silver hair flashing through her mind. She didn't like pipsqueaks. "That guy had to be a stubborn and obnoxious jerk. What about you, Buhara?"

The larger examiner grunted, frowning. "Let me think…" Immediately, his mind drifted, catching on the vivid flashes of red hair, cold, golden eyes. There was something to be said about a man that was willing to slit the throats of anyone who stood in his way. "He's not really a rookie but my choice would be number 44… I'm sure Menchi noticed it too. When number 255 was mad, the one with the strongest desire to kill was number 44."

A shiver went down Menchi's spine, her eyes flicking to the locked door of their compartment. Yes. there was something to be said about bloodlust. And one of those things was that someone who was able to control it was a threat. Especially someone with number 44's particular set of skills.

Menchi licked her suddenly dry lips, forcing some bravado into her voice as she leaned farther back into her seat. "I sensed it, of course. He had an overwhelming killer aura. But you know what, Buhara? He looked like that from the start. He had the same expression the moment we showed up."

The same uncomfortable awareness crept along Buhara's spine. "He did?"

Menchi nodded. "Yes. I was stressed out more than usual because of him. He seemed to be looking for my faults."

Satotz set down his fork and knife. "He was the same with me." The examiner's brows lowered, his mind drifting to the small, silvery haired girl that had spoken with him along the run. In fact, she had been the only one to get within fifteen feet of him after his little display in the beginning. "The real one of interest to me is number 200."

Menchi perked up, her head tipping to the side. "200? That little girl with her doll?"

"I think it was a bear," Buhara supplied.

"Whatever," she replied with an eye roll. Her nose wrinkled as she thought back on the only contestant that had cooked anything vaguely interesting. Borderline mediocre but not enough to allow for an honest disqualification. "When she came back from the hunt, there had been blood on her shoes…"

Buhara frowned. "There was? When-"

"Number 44s aura spiked," Menchi murmured, grimacing at the memory.

"That's what that was," Buhara breathed, looking vaguely unsettled.

Satotz nodded. "They react to each other. His aura did the same thing when he was speaking to her and I'm afraid that she responds in kind."

Menchi's mouth twisted crudely, her expression anything but pleasant as she stared across the table at the purple-haired examiner. "She's weak. At the moment, she's too busy hiding behind that bear of hers or even her brothers. It annoys me."

"An odd thing have such a creature with her," Buhara mused. He had only seen one of it's kind in the depths of the Nomadic forest, far away from any human civilization. Those kinds of animals didn't take kindly to the general hubbub of the city.

Menchi scowled. "You're giving her too much credit. It's pathetic to lean so heavily on that animal for her survival."

Satotz eyes drifted to one of the small windows that lined their cabin. "I would have to disagree, Menchi. She's barely performed at all in the last two phases and that in itself is troubling. While we've grown to understand the majority of the others, she seems to be keeping herself rather hidden. And that is...unsettling."

Buhara's eyes slipped open, his face somber. "Do you think she's a threat?"

Satotz shook his head. "No. I think that she still doesn't fully understand her potential. And that she hasn't come up against an obstacle that is high enough to make her push herself-"

"Lazy," Menchi huffed, crossing her arms with a venomous sniff.

"Perhaps that's why she's so drawn to number 44," Satotz continued on, unphased. "Or perhaps it's a bit more complicated. Unlike the rest, her battle doesn't seem to be within the confines of our exam."

The green-haired examiner scoffed. "Then why is she even here?"

"That's a good question."

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