Hello, everyone! An update for you! I hope your Thanksgiving went well! Mine was awesome; I probably gained two pounds from eating too much cheesecake, but life is short (made even shorter by eating too much cheesecake).

Anyway, you must know that I won't be able to update in like a week or so, because I have finals in a few days. I'm actually supposed to be studying right now, but I couldn't stop myself. I drank two large cups of coffee (and I never drink coffee) too late in the day with the intention of studying, but I just wrote this instead, and it's already 5:17 AM. My roommate is still awake, because she has a paper due in four hours, and she just started working on it. Oh joy.

Okay, I'll shut up now. Here we go!

Spotlight

Chapter Three: Illness

Ayaka didn't really know how to explain what was going on with her body. Sure, she could walk, talk, and even work fine, but there was a strong and unshakable feeling of dread, of paranoia, that she just couldn't, well, shake off. For the past two weeks, everything within her body conflicted with everything else, like her organs had short-circuited in different places, all at the same time.

She would often feel hungry right after eating a large meal. Her head would feel like one giant ice pack while the rest of her body, down to the points of her toes, would feel like a red-hot bed of charcoal. And then the temperatures would switch in a snap, just like that, like her body's biological thermometer was turned upside down. She would find black coffee sweet, and bananas, salty.

Not to mention feeling exhausted after eight full hours of rest. It didn't help that even after two weeks of having moved into the Heavens Arena, most of her belongings were still in two large sealed boxes in the corner of her room. And it was a lovely room, mind you, completely furnished with a single-sized bed, a dresser and a study desk, all made of beautifully crafted solid dark oak, all strategically positioned by a meticulous interior designer who laid down his Feng Shui law. And yet, to her, it was absolutely ugly. The pastel-pink-and-yellow-striped wallpaper, though a combination of her favorite colors, just did not appeal to her.

A single oak-framed window, directly across from the door and behind her bed, boasted a breathtaking view of York Shin - shiny buildings, small houses, and busy highways, the works of a mega-metropolitan city. It didn't look as polluted from way up high on the 99th floor, but either way, she couldn't slide the window open since it was nailed shut (apparently, many had died from falling or jumping out), and she was all right with that, because who really wanted to breathe in toxic gases from the cars below? But somehow, just not having the option to open it added to her distress.

So... what was wrong with her? Was she having a mid-life crisis at the age of nineteen?

The worst part was probably the throbbing pain she felt on her left arm. It felt incredibly sore and beaten up, like it had gone through the meat tenderizing process in a steakhouse, and the warm compress she applied every night just wouldn't soothe the ache. Maybe she tore something without knowing it? She'd been lifting heavy things, after all.

She sighed loudly as she squeezed her way through the crowd in the lobby, making her way towards the food stand where she was supposed to work for the day. It was a busy time for the Arena, 1 o'clock, but it was good because working with customers forced her to think of their little petty problems instead of her own.

"Ayaka?" Wing suddenly called from behind her.

Great. This guy again. She hasn't seen him since that incident, all those days ago. You know, that time Hisoka was "about to kill" her, according to him at least, though she hasn't seen Hisoka himself either. After all, Heavens Arena had 251 floors and it wasn't like she could man the room service department by herself and steal other people's jobs. She wasn't a lunatic like some people obviously were.

"Yes?" she replied as she turned around, feigning an employee's smile. "Ahh, Wing-san. How are you?"

He smiled that gentle smile of his, like he couldn't harm a fly, or a mosquito, or anything smaller and slower than those two. Honestly, despite thinking he was a bit on the loony side, she found it difficult not to like him. Then again, it was difficult not to dislike him either. It was pins-and-needles with this guy.

"You don't have to be so polite," he said like he knew her, putting his hands behind him like the teacher she heard he was.

To that, Ayaka bit her tongue. They weren't friends, so why was he acting like they were?

"Courtesy is company policy!" she rhymed in a perky Honmei-styled voice, dropping her smile as she walked towards the food stand again, ignoring the chilly feeling her head was emitting. "Thank you again for, you know, helping me with the rice situation."

"You're very welcome."

And then he followed closely behind her. For a moment, she considered that maybe he was just a really lonely man, looking for something to do, someone to talk to, someone to bother. Like the needy, clingy children she used to babysit. But he was just a little bit too eccentric for her taste, what with his shirt still half tucked in. Really? She eyed the messy garment and developed the urge to tuck the rest herself, but that was a bit... yeah.

"You still have Hisoka's weapon, don't you?" he suddenly asked.

And she froze mid-step, which was actually happening a whole lot lately. Hisoka's weapon? He must have meant Hisoka's Joker card, the one that had assaulted the sack of rice. Wait. How did he even know that she still had it? That she had kept it at all? She unknowingly set a defensive hand over her left pink sleeve, where she had gingerly tucked it in that morning. Oh great, now he knew where it was.

She could feel its dull cardboard edges pressing against her warm skin, and her arm ached a level further, like an iron slowly changing its heat setting. Sure, it was creepy of her to bring the card everywhere, like a stolen keepsake of some stalker, but hey, no one was supposed to know!

"Uhh...Yes?" she blurted out a second too late like an embarrassed dog, not knowing what else to say. "Listen, I'm thankful for your help the other day, but this...it's none of your-"

"You've been feeling a bit sick, haven't you? You don't look too good."

Her eyes twitched wider ever so slightly, and her mouth hung open, drying out her loose pink tongue. This guy... How did he know? Was it that obvious? Well, the bags underneath her eyes were beginning to puff up like drenched teabags, so maybe that was a tell-tale sign? But he looked a bit too serious and somehow menacing to her now that she gave him a second look. And looking at him made her drumming heart knock loudly enough for her own ears to hear.

"How... did you know?"

"It doesn't matter how I know," he replied, and she felt a hard vein pop up, right smack in the middle of her forehead like the debut of a fresh pimple. "What's important is that it's been two weeks and you still haven't recovered from Hisoka's killing intent. You aren't letting it go, and it's causing the confusion your body is feeling. It's going to get worse if you don't stop it now."

Huh. Killing intent. There he was again about that. But he was oh-so-accurate about the confusion part, so much so that she silently worried about what else he might possibly know. Little beads of sweat collected at the base of her neck. Now, her head was feeling a bit too warm. It felt cold just a few seconds ago.

"And you think I'll feel better if I get rid of the card?" she asked despite the distraction, gripping her sleeve tighter, protecting the only link she had with Hisoka. She flinched as she touched it again. Her arm was burning with greater pain, a pain she couldn't fully explain. It just hurt. It just felt scorching. And it was getting hotter. Still...No way. No way would she throw it out! She was even planning to return it to him! She just never got the chance.

"Of course you'll feel better," he replied, like he knew everything, and she wondered if he was this naturally condescending towards everyone. "That card is the medium through which his killing intent was delivered. It's a difficult thing to understand, and it's not something I can just explain to someone who isn't qualified, so if you just follow-"

"Sir," she said in between clenched teeth. "With all due respect, I have to get back to work. It's been nice talking to you."

And she walked away. Lunatic. He wasn't even her employer, so who was he to boss her around like that? But hey, it wasn't over. Not at all.

Wing grabbed her arm and raised it high in the air, and she panicked as a few customers looked at her. No! Wow, she was really going to get fired this time!

"Listen to me, Ayaka," he said softly, but there was a hint of frustration in there somewhere. "Your stubborn interest in Hisoka is deadly. If you aren't careful, he will kill you. Do you understand? He might even do it with the very card you want to return, and trust me when I say that I won't defend you, because I'm not sure I can. Are you all right with that? Of course, your choices are your own, but my values prevent me from simply watching you kill yourself."

Ayaka grabbed her arm back... and... wait. The pain! It was gone! She lifted her arm, up and down, up and down. Swing! No pain. She could finally breathe freely for the first time in weeks! What kind of magic therapist's hands did Wing have? And... hold on. Everything else was gone too! She felt great! Her head didn't feel like summer in the north pole anymore, her hands were dry, and suddenly, she decided that the wallpaper in her room was really pretty after all. But the card... she couldn't feel it in her sleeve. It was empty, because Wing had stolen it.

"Give it back," she snapped, wondering how he was able to take it in such a short time, right under her nose.

"No," he said, turning around to walk away. "Let this be the end of it."

Who was he to decide things? She gritted her teeth and grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him towards her with a strong jerk, but he wasn't intimidated by it at all. Not one bit. He even sighed aloud, like she was the one bothering him. Like she was the one wasting his time.

"Ayaka," he said in his low, manly voice, soothingly, almost of a lullaby quality. Really, what was it with teachers and their calming voices? Not that she really knew what teachers sounded like, since she didn't even reach high school. But that was something she didn't like to think about.

And so she let him go. Not because she believed him. And not because the pain in her arm was magically gone. It was because the tiny hairs at the back of her neck stood up, taken over by chilly goosebumps.

Hisoka was there. And he had his hand wrapped around a little boy's neck.

End of Chapter Three!

How was that? I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review; I really wanna know what you think.