Hello, everyone, and thank you for your continued support! With this update, I say: Happy Thanksgiving! It's a great excuse to eat more food in one sitting than I would in three days, so I am so excited.

Here we go!

Spotlight

Chapter Two: Survival Skills

Ayaka's head was spinning. Round and round the staff room went, swirling like a toilet flushing itself down. She was so hungry. Working for eight straight hours really did take a lot out of her. Good thing the last set of matches, fights, or whatever they really were, had just ended. Downtime was good.

But really, she was still busy. In her head, at least. She couldn't stop thinking about the man she had just met. Hisoka. He was just her type. Actually, he was probably everybody's type, both men and women alike, considering his gorgeous body and satin-like skin. But it was his eyes that got to her. They were so malicious. So beautiful. So provoking. Like he was above her world. Like he was above anyone's world, really. She always did fall in and out of love like bipolar weather; it was one of her many flaws. And to think she had only spent but a few minutes with him.

Honmei suddenly barged in the staff room, still lively like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Was she on crack or something?

"Hey, new employee!" she said, grabbing the seat next to her and sitting down with a long contented sigh. "Good work today! It's rare to see someone work so hard on a Saturday. So when are you moving in?"

Ayaka flashed her a long look of confusion. What?

"Thanks, but... HUH?"

"OHH!" Honmei cried, like she had just stubbed her little toe. "I haven't told you, have I? All employees are required to live here! As a business, we emphasize top quality customer service to our patrons, 24/7! You won't be on-call all the time, and it isn't really free, but I think people are happy here. So how about it?"

There it was again, Honmei's bullet-speed mouth. She was talking so much and so fast that it was becoming a tiring chore just listening to her. Was she really required to live in the Heavens Arena? Was that really something people just forgot to mention when hiring new employees? This human resources manager really was a piece of work.

As if sensing her skepticism, Honmei patted her back to reassure her further.

"Electricity and utilities are included," she said thoughtfully, like a car salesman trying to make his first sale. "But the rent depends. If you want your own room, it's five thousand a month. If you share with someone, it's half that. But you get three free meals a day in the cafeteria, so I personally think it's a good deal!"

Ayaka's eyes went bloodshot at the mention of free food. Free food without coupons? Just...free? That was a good deal indeed! She stood up abruptly, knocking down the seat behind her, and hastily ran towards the door. Sometimes, she didn't have much pride.

"I'll let you know by tomorrow morning!" she said, opening the door and hurriedly stepping out. "I'm getting some free dinner!"

There is no place

There is no time

Nowhere but here

No moment but now

Or so he said

After much deliberation, Ayaka decided to have her own room despite the higher cost, since not having enough privacy was one of her biggest pet peeves. Besides, she snored and slept with her mouth open sometimes, and who really wanted to live with someone like that?

But that wasn't important right now. It was day two of working, and Ayaka had been drooling all night just dreaming of the fat paycheck she was going to get. She worked eight hours straight yesterday, and today, she was planning to work for twelve. That would be twenty grand in two days! She was going to treat herself to a manicure and a pedicure this time. Oh, she was going to splurge. The next time she saw Hisoka, she'd flaunt herself... or not. No way she could do that.

"Maybe I should buy toys for the kids," she changed her own subject, thinking about the snotty children she had been babysitting until yesterday. "They'll be so happy!"

She snickered to herself and a few people looked her way. She had to stop talking to herself.

She was almost done restocking the kitchen inventory, and only a sack of rice was left. It was big and heavy and it smelled like an old warehouse. She tightened her grip on both sides of the package and threw it over her shoulders, making it land roughly on her back. Her knees curled underneath the pressure. How could tiny grains of rice be this heavy? But children were pretty heavy too, and she had given her fair share of piggyback rides over the years. This was nothing.

"For the twenty grand!" she yelled, running full speed from the delivery truck towards the kitchen. Well, at least that was where she was headed, until she bumped into somebody's rock solid torso when she turned a corner. She ricocheted backwards and fell to the floor, with her well-padded behind catching her fall. The sack of rice landed next to her, and she thanked the heavens that it didn't rip open. She didn't want to pay for damages, much less on her second day.

"I'm sorry... Hisoka-san?"

There he was, smiling like he usually did, in all his vibrant glory. His orange hair was spiked upwards, and she realized later that this was how he usually kept it. She had done some research, a little bit of asking around, and she learned that he was what they called a "floor master." He could kill her with his eyes closed. In a split second. Upside down. While having a drink of water or something.

She immediately stood up and straightened herself out like a dutiful soldier. Her heart was beating fast, like it was in the middle of running a marathon, and she wondered if it was due to her non-lackluster efforts to race her way through the building, or if it was because Hisoka was just as breathtakingly handsome with clothes on. Did he remember her?

But she was staring again. She scrambled to the side and tried to grab the heavy sack, but her arms failed her. Really, why now of all times? She was just too nervous. Good-looking men always had that effect on her, and Hisoka was probably the best-looking of all. Why was he just standing there? And moreover, why was he looking so pleased with himself, watching on as she struggled with the package of carbohydrates?

"Twenty grand, twenty grand," she whispered to herself, trying to access the motivation she had only a few moments ago. She needed to leave soon, because she probably just looked stupid.

And there it was again. A moment of suffocation. Of being squeezed in the neck with a phantom hand. A hand that wouldn't let go unless she died just quick enough to forget the torture. But this time, it wasn't just a moment. It didn't pass. It was here to stay.

"How rude of you to bump into me like that."

She buckled down with her hands and knees flat on the ground, like the sack of rice had fallen on her instead. She could feel the blood pumping in panic through her veins, going different directions, like a busy, congested highway. Hisoka waved his hand in the air, like he was bidding her a farewell, and a single card, the Joker, appeared between his fingers.

"Bye-bye."

Like chopping wood with a blunt axe, he brought his hand downwards as if to strike her, but she neither winced nor whimpered. Eyes wide, she watched in awe, in slow motion, as the magician cast a spell. A spell of death. A spell she would never be able to break. But as if overtaken by a sudden punch of hesitation, he averted his hand at the last millisecond, and the Joker, the card, the trickster, embedded itself on the sack of rice instead.

Little grains of rice poured out like children set free for summer vacation, creating a melody of white noise that filled her ears with a hypnotic tune. What just happened? Hisoka then glanced behind him, as if pleasantly annoyed at somebody's intrusion. Was somebody there?

But he just sent her another smile and walked past her.

"Oops."

And Ayaka didn't know what possessed her, what washed over her brain, when she twisted her head around to get one final glance at him before he disappeared.

"My name's Ayaka, by the way!"

Really! What the hell was she thinking? Was she that desperate to get attention? Was she that lonely? How pathetic. She just wanted to dig a hole on the ground, jump into it, and bury herself alive.

But Hisoka didn't stop walking. He didn't even turn around. Not that she thought he would. Not that she even wanted him to. But she knew that he was smiling, because he always was. And... he responded.

"Why do I need to know who you are?"

Well, wow, she was about to ask herself the same thing. And just like that, all trace of him disappeared. It was a dream. It was a nightmare. It was lucid but surreal.

She took a good long look at the little avalanche of rice. The card was still half-buried, like a tombstone in the healthy soil of a graveyard. Her graveyard. She picked it up cautiously, careful not to cut herself... but it wasn't sharp. Not at all, actually. It was just a normal piece of cardboard that she could bend sideways if she wanted to. Was he playing a cruel joke on her? Did he see her earnest face as a target to be ruined of all its innocence? He wasn't going to win; there was no innocence to stain.

And yet, she somehow felt a strong surge of delight from having seen his face again, and from being given the least bit of attention. She couldn't understand it. Men rarely looked her way, especially the handsome ones, and even if they did, they never approached, probably because she smelled of children's poo. Otherwise, they always wanted something else.

She didn't know how much time had passed until an open hand appeared in her field of vision. A gentle hand, with a strong, protective palm.

"Can you stand?"

She glanced upwards at the Good Samaritan, who greeted her with a gentle bespectacled face, unkempt black hair and solid brown eyes. He was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt, half tucked and half un-tucked in a pair of black baggy trousers. A careless man.

"Yeah, thanks," Ayaka finally replied, ignoring his hand and standing on her own.

"Be more careful next time," he said, grabbing the sack of rice like it was full of dandelions, the wrong side up so that no rice would spill from the clean cut. "Hisoka was about to kill you."

To this, she raised her brows well over her forehead. What did he mean by that? Hisoka wasn't about to kill her. He was just... doing what, exactly? Nobody was making sense today, not even her. All she knew was that she was happy. Happy that Hisoka had noticed her.

"You don't have to take that, sir," she said, attempting to remain polite while gathering her senses once more. "That's my job."

She tried grabbing the sack from him, but he started walking away. Why did people enjoy walking away from her?

"This goes in the kitchen, right?" he asked kindly. "Don't worry about it. The way you are now, you probably can't even carry a feather."

And her legs did feel weak, like jelly, unable to support anything else but its own weight, without which it would only collapse onto itself. If not for the Good Samaritan, would she really have died?

"Uhh... your name?"

"Oh, right. I'm Wing. And you're Ayaka, right?"

She blushed, and her hot ears distracted her from telling him that he was right. How embarrassing. How loudly did she shout her name exactly? Did everyone hear? And... would Hisoka remember it?

End of Chapter Two!

Well, what did you think? Could you imagine Hisoka's murderous intent the way Ayaka felt it? I sure hope so, because I tried really hard. So let me know by leaving a review! I tried not to make it too long, which was really a big challenge, but I think it went okay. I'm still trying to figure out Chapter 3, but since Thanksgiving will give me lots of time to write, I'll have it figured out soon!

Again, thanks for reading, and please review!