I did indeed end up throwing up.
Fortunately, I did not get any on myself.
Unfortunately for the pink-haired contestant with a bow and arrow who happened to be standing next to me, the same could not be said for him.
I might have apologized for throwing up my breakfast on his pointy shoes if I had not been so utterly engrossed at that moment by the idea that I was standing in the same room - sharing the same hunter's exam - as Ging Freecs' son.
As your son.
I looked back up at him, and Gon gave me this funny looking stare before turning away from me again and continuing to speak to the white-haired boy next to him without saying anything to me.
Probably for the best.
I don't know what I'd even say to him if we ever actually met.
"Sorry your father is a jackass," is the only thing to come to mind, and that isn't exactly something I like telling people.
.
.
.
I think the clown is getting closer.
And before you call me crazy , Ging, I swear he's four contestants closer than he was before.
And it can't be that he's running faster, because he's not even running. Or even speed-walking. He's merely shuffling a deck of playing cards and humming, at the walking speed one might take if they're taking a stroll through the forest, looking for some Aina berries.
I'm trying not to look at him but whenever curiosity does win over and I dare to turn around, his unnervingly gold coloured eyes are already on me.
And not in an oh, we happened to glance at each other at the same time, how awkward teehee, kind of way - but instead, an I've been staring at you this entire time, never trust a clown, you fool kind of way.
To describe in a way you might best understand, he's staring at me the way you stare at Kupuna's grilled Auweke , and the way I might stare at your grave.
His stare is one filled with far too much desire, for my liking.
.
.
.
The stare™ and beating up your son are now the least of my worries.
The clown is getting bolder. He has forgone his deck of cards and is now making what I imagine must seem like random gestures in the air to many of the other contestants.
However, to people like me, it is painfully obvious he is doing the equivalent of making kissy faces from across the room to me with his nen.
Even without gyo activated I can see strings of nen aura from his fingers, thin and pink like bubblegum as he draws love hearts in the area next to him.
He creates various shapes, like different playing cards suites and numbers but mainly sticks with hearts.
I … honestly don't know what to do here. Judging by the way no one else around him is reacting, I have to assume they can't see them.
When he caught me staring yet again, he made another heart with his nen strings before tilting his head and smiling. An unspoken invitation to go up to him, but there's no fucking way that's happening anytime soon.
Despite how inviting and sweet his hearts may seem, even from this distance, I can see his nen core.
Unlike Kaito's, whose aura and core felt like swimming in a deep lake with depths unknown, the clown's aura feels like I'm eating Aina berries.
Sweet, sticky pink Aina berries plucked from the forests of my hometown, highly addictive and highly poisonous in large doses.
For once, I heed Kupuna's advice and don't go near the poisoned pink berries.
No matter how much they stare.
"You can see them, can't you?"
I'm not proud of the terrified scream I let out when the clown suddenly appears behind me as I write to Ging, but I can say it was completely justified. Because, honestly, who the fuck jump-scares someone when they're in the middle of writing? And running a fucking marathon, no less!
I've already got enough bruises, pal, I don't need any more!
And even though I do jump when the clown whispers in my ear, I'm honestly not surprised to see him so close. I did, after all, say he was getting closer in my letters to Ging. Fucking called it.
It occurs to me that I haven't spoken for a while now, merely staring at the jack-in-a-box clown in silence and horror without doing much else. Though the clown doesn't seem to mind, grinning down at me predatorily, I still manage to speak up.
"Um." I begin, intelligently. "See what, exactly?"
Playing the fool worked so often for that lousy Ging, perhaps it would work here for me, too.
"Don't feign ignorance," responds the clown. He still hasn't moved, and his breath is still incredibly, unnaturally, close to my ear.
I haven't moved either, and contestants around us send a confused glance our way but say nothing as they continue to run and pass us.
"I can see your core," he starts again. "It looks delicious."
As he says this it occurs to me that I feel glad he's behind me, so I would not have to see whatever expression came with that tone of voice.
He says his words with a lilt, and his voice drops several octaves.
Fucking clowns.
I turn around to him, choosing my next words very carefully. Despite his laissez-faire body language, everything about him screamed Danger! Danger! Killer clown!
"I don't know what you're talking about," I settle on.
The clown hums at this and leans closer to my face. I lean back in retaliation, at such an angle that surely Makoa, my technically still-fiance and the limbo champion of our island, would be proud of.
Surprisingly, our vague conversation about nen ends there and he asks instead, "Do you like to… dance?"
I think back to Ging.
I think back to days of my childhood, hours spent laughing by a campfire as I tell him to spin me in his arms until I get dizzy, and to hold me until I see stars in the daylight.
Visions of a grumpy hunter reluctantly taking my hand in his -
Creating electricity as we danced barefoot to the music of my people -
I blink, forcing those memories out of my mind. "I hate dancing," I settle on.
The clown laughs.
A tense silence passes between us (well, tense for me, but the clown looked as pleased as he usually does) and then he reaches forward, grabs a lock of my hair between his fingers and tells me, "Don't die too quickly," before letting the hair fall from his hand.
I blink at him and he smiles at me one last time before beginning to walk away.
I blink again, and after a moment begin running again.
I knew the Hunter Exams would have it's fair share weirdos, but seriously what the fuck was with that.
I don't think I'll write to Ging about that encounter.
In fact, I think I'd rather block that out and never think about it again so I am still able to sleep tonight.
Fucking clowns.