Disclaimer: I do not own anything but my OC.

Warnings: Violence. Death. Language.

Beta: Arii-hime.

CRYING WOLF
by: Riseha

Chapter 12

Company

I tugged on my torn shirt, trying to cover more of my exposed navel, but it was useless anyway. We were the first to arrive, as expected. My name was listed first, Hisoka was second and Hanzo came in third. I felt no sense of accomplishment; rather, I felt complete and utter rage.

How could I have been so careless?

Ugh, now I had to deal with the wound.

The pain was a pest I couldn't get rid of; even after leaving Kukuroo Mountain, I still went through torture training. I wasn't about to lag behind in my pain resistant training, but since I was the one setting my own training regime, I slacked off a lot.

My pain resistance wasn't as great as I'd hoped.

Sure, I could endure the pain but I couldn't possibly stem the consequences of such a large wound. Seconds flew by, minutes crawled, and hours lingered.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, burying my face in them, trying to ignore the increasing pain in my back.

Times like these, I wanted the Old Man to play favorites and send a medic team to help. Every time I shifted, I could feel the bandages shifting along, brushing my wound, and it sent nothing but pain shrieking through my nerves.

My Nen flared in panic, momentarily, when I felt Illumi's approaching Nen.

I glanced warily at Hisoka who was building a mountain of cards, then at Hanzo who was doing push-ups. Hanzo wouldn't stand a chance and I don't think Hisoka would have much reason to help me.

I hunched in on myself when I realize how utterly alone I was.

Pallid skin and raven hair and eyes were the emblem of death for me. I cringed slightly when I saw Glitturack. Hisoka barely glance up at him, merely nodded and gave a little wave before he went back to his game of cards. Hanzo blinked and cringed when he saw Glitturack's hideous face.

Yeah, well, that disguise was definitely better than Illumi's real face.

Not that his real face was uglier, just... crueler, unbearable for me.

My hackles were rising, I feared that I might pull out that forbidden card if I kept this up. Glitturack tilted his head mechanically when he saw me, but shrugged and left, wandering to a corner of his own. He didn't seem like he cared about us, but my skin prickled.

He was watching me.

I refrained from trembling. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to shove his cruel, cruel face away.

I must've succeeded in distracting myself, because the next time my eyelids drooped, they didn't open.

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"Noel!" Someone was shaking me very roughly, painfully. But the name was wrong. Who was he calling? I frowned, about to bat the hand away when he called my name. "Ria?"

I jerked awake, the darkness swallowed by light.

Killua was crouching before me, brows furrowed in concern; steely anger crossed his blue eyes when he saw my torn shirt and wound.

"What happened in the tower?"

I frowned at him, glancing at his blistered hands. "What happened to you?"

"Had to dig our way out." Killua scowled. "But that doesn't explain what happened to you."

"Someone pressed a wrong button," I glared at Hisoka with no little discretion, "and the room exploded. I didn't make it out in time because some slowpokes insisted in being in front."

"Who were you with?"

"The joker and the bald ninja," I growled, letting my head fall limply into my arms. "Is this stage over yet or not?"

"Yes," Killua answered, gesturing to where the contestants crowded out. "Were you asleep for a few days?"

"Death Trance," I said, seeing his confused look. "A skill my Grandfather taught me. To recuperate while on guard."

He wrinkled his nose. "Eh, you sure?"

"Else, I would've been dead already." I grasped Killua's arm, pulling myself up with his help. He glanced at my torn shirt, then, to my surprise, pulled his white over-shirt off. "Here," he said, slipping it over my head, letting the material bunch around my neck.

I wriggled into his shirt, discarding my old one by ripping it away.

"Thanks," I mumbled, blushing for some unknown reason. I shuffled after him, rather embarrassed when I had to force myself to release my hold on the hem of his shirt.

Someone's hand dug into my shoulder. I glared when I saw Hisoka prodding me onward. "What?" I hissed, lowering my voice so that I wouldn't draw Killua's attention. He was chatting happily away with Gon and if I made any sound of distress, undoubtedly, he would start a scene here.

"We have to get our target's number," Hanzo said from behind Hisoka. "we'll be hunting one another in the next exam. And this determines who we have to hunt. From first to last, you first, Noel."

I blinked, stepping forward and I could see the looks of disbelief that I was the first to make it out of the Tower. I scowled when I heard the word favoritism but I wasn't that surprised.

"They're just jealous," Hanzo assured me when he saw my scowl.

I stalked over to Lippo, meeting his assessing stare head-on.

My hand trembled almost imperceptibly when I reached in the box. The box's sides glinted, recording who'd taken a card. I glanced back at the participants that had hidden their badges, only Hisoka kept his own and I realized belatedly that I had yet to hide it.

I glanced down at the number in hand.

I nearly fainted; my knees trembled, and my whole form was shuddering so badly I thought I was going to lose my grip on the paper which had helped me sign my death warrant.

I glanced up.

My target: no. 99, Glitturack—Illumi.

"Noel," Kurapika approached me first, concern in his eyes. "are you quite all right?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice but when Kurapika scowled at me, demanding a real answer, I managed to gather my voice to choke out, "Yes, what gave it away?"

"You went sheet white," Kurapika answered drily. "Is that not obvious enough? Who's your target?"

"An old enemy," I sighed. "I know I can't beat him."

"There are a number of ways to beat an opponent," Kurapika said, trying to reassure me. "If brawling is no use, you can always strike up a deal with him, or something."

"No," I said, sighing. "Thanks for trying to help, but it won't work. Not against him."

"Who's he anyway?"

I frowned. "It's best for you to not know."

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"Seriously, who's the guy you're supposed to be fighting? Is he that terrible that you want us to face the storm, instead?"

I smirked wryly at Kurapika's dry humor. "It's not funny." As nice as Kurapika was, he had quite the insensitive sense of humor which I did not appreciate now. I sighed. "Either way, we're screwed."

"Just you," Kurapika said, ticking off his small list of things to be done. "My target is a wimp."

"Why don't we trade?"

"It's no use," The Kuruta said unsympathetically. "they already recorded our number and target. Unless, of course, you can avoid him all together and gather other people's badges."

I scratched the back of my head. "True," I muttered. But I think Hisoka saw my target and he'd definitely tell Illumi, no doubt that my own brother would come after me. I wondered if I'd be safe if I stuck by Killua's side.

Illumi wouldn't hurt his favorite sibling, right?

I had serious doubts; once, I wouldn't have doubted Illumi's ability to care about us enough to not kill us. So much for that trust.

I snorted. "I won't be able to escape."

"Is it Hisoka?"

"Close enough," I grouched.

Before Kurapika could answer, the ship tilted sideways. I yelped as I was swept off my feet. My head connected soundly with the metal wall; as I rolled about in pain, I heard Kurapika and someone else yelling into the communicator.

When Kurapika let out a Kurutanian curse, I raised my head. I couldn't speak his tribe's language but I knew from his tone that it was a swear word. I winced, rubbing the forming lump on my head. "What happened?" I croaked.

"Leorio and Gon have yet to surface."

My heart skipped a beat. "What about Killua?"

"He's with Hanzo, at the canon," Kurapika frowned, glancing at me. "Can you handle this?" I shot him a quizzical look. "Steering the ship, I mean," he clarified.

I nodded. "I learned from the captain," I said, grabbing the handle. "I didn't think his crappy lessons that nearly deafened my ear would come in handy someday."

"Drive safely," Kurapika called back as he rushed out of the control room.

I scoffed. "I just turn this wheel, what could happen?"

The moment the ship rocked to the side dangerously, nearly throwing me off my feet again, I knew I did something wrong. Killua yelled through the communicator. "Kurapika, Ria!" I winced, why did he insist on calling me that? He was just confirming Illumi's hypothesis. "What's wrong?"

I glanced at the steering wheel. Judging from the map Kurapika had hastily drawn from the crew members' description, there were jagged rocks to our left. I had turned the wheel right, to go in that direction, didn't I?

Oh, wait. For ships, turning right means going left and vise versa. Oops.

Coughing in embarrassment, I mumbled into the communicator that I had everything under control.

What I couldn't understand: why the ship crashed again.

"Right," Killua called sarcastically into the communicator, his voice nearly drowned out by the waves slamming against us, working against the ship. "You've got it under control."

"Where's Kurapika?" Hanzo yelled.

"He's going to save Gon and Leorio from drowning—" My reply was cut short as the ship rocked. This wave was larger, stronger, harder than before and the next thing I knew, I was flying.

Only for a few seconds though, before I landed on hard surface; my head acquainted with a nearby dresser (who the hell uses a metal dresser?)

I was dazed, delirious with pain that blossomed from my back. I heal faster than most people, courtesy of the drugs I was given, but years without such medication, my regeneration abilites weren't as great as I'd hoped it'd be. My back screeched at me as I slid down the deck.

Spots blurred my vision; the rain and thunder drowned out Killua and Hanzo's voice; I wheezed for breath, desperately trying to keep my eyes open.

As I slump down to the ground, darkness claiming be, I thought I saw someone step forward from the shadows. I couldn't see who it was, just felt safe, like that person was a trusty ally.

It was completely ludicrous, but, I dreamed that it was Illu-nii who helped.

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"Noel!"

I groaned when the shaking didn't stop. I rolled over, rubbing my eyes of the crust of sleep. I squinted through the sunlight to see clearer. "Gon...?" I stared at the few blossoming bruises on his face, suspecting that he'd taken quite the beating from the waves—not that I came out completely unscathed either. "You look like shit," I remarked bluntly.

He laughed. "You're no different!"

"Where's everyone else?"

"On the boat," Gon replied instantly.

I shot him a wry glance. "I could barely care less about everyone else, I meant our gang."

He stared blankly at me. "Gang?"

"You, me, Killua, Kurapika and Leorio—we make a good team," I remarked. I glanced at him when I noticed that he had yet to stop staring. "What?" I demanded, annoyed and embarrassed by his constant staring. "You don't think so?"

"No, no, no!" Gon said, waving his arms, grinning madly. "I mean, I was thinking the same but I didn't think you guys shared the same sentiment!"

Sad but true: I craved others' company. If I was completely alone with no one to distract me, my mind would work overtime, summoning memories I had no wish to recall. And then I'd be forced to think, to ponder upon something, questions that would get painful answers.

(why did Illumi try to kill me?) Even if he was ordered to, why didn't he try to do anything? Wouldn't a small, subtle warning be enough? Then, if he was ordered to, who and why would they give such an order?

Human company did little to help though; an exempt example was now, even with Gon chattering away right in front of me, I couldn't bring my mind to dissect whatever he was saying and give him the proper response.

All I managed to choke out was, a grunt of affirmation and adding it whenever he glanced at me expectantly or when I felt it appropriate.

"...so, so what do you think?"

I didn't think this question was one I could get away with a grunt. "Uh... it's private."

Gon shot me an odd look, before asking, "Are you okay?"

Turns out, Gon asked me which type of fish had more protein. And I said it was private.

I was pretty sure we looked like complete lunatics, rolling about the deck and laughing.

I wiped the tears away from my cheek, wondering why my skin prickled with goosebumps. I turned, and my laughter sort of died.

The sun blinded his face, but his long raven hair billowed in the wind, as long as it had been four years ago. A part of me needlessly noted that he must've been cutting it to keep it at the same length. Pointless details, I thought. I choked, the sound of distress drawing Gon's attention.

But when he turned, Illumi was already gone. As stealthy as ever, I thought grudgingly.

"What's wrong?" Gon asked, brows furrowing in concern as he stared me in the eye. "You look like you've seen a ghost and this isn't the first time you've react like this. Ever since you picked up your target for the next phase..." he frowned, shaking his head, uncharacteristically serious. "No, ever since this exam started, you've been jumpy, scared even. Really, if something or someone's bothering you, you can tell one of us."

My heart warmed at the thought, that they cared enough about me to try to help.

I smiled wryly. "There's very little you can do against my mortal enemy."

He arched a brow, seeming to be amused. "That serious? Who's he?"

"Kurapika asked the same question," I mused.

Gon, despite being oblivious at times, got it instantly. "You won't tell me," he said, pouting. "Well, who're you going to tell? My aunt Mito always say not to bottle things up and find someone to spill your heart out."

"She sounds wise," I said, trying to change the subject.

"So, anyone in mind?"

I frowned. No one came to mind. I may have said that we were a gang, a group of five friends—but no matter how close-knitted we were supposed to be, there will always be an odd one out, the black sheep: me.

Killua had Gon, Kurapika had Leorio and vise versa. Me? I had no one.

I had no best friend, just acquaintances and allies and friends, never best friends or a true companion that I could be at ease around. Truthfully? I always felt ugly, burning jealousy when I saw the four of them interact, completely leaving me out even though I myself didn't actively partake in conversations.

I was jealous of Killua for having such an awesome true friend in Gon, that he had someone other than his twin to cope with his problems and help him.

That was part of the reason why I didn't approach Killua: he was so distant now. I knew that he wanted to reconcile with me, wanted to know why I was here and how I survived, or why I decided to hide myself and abandon him for four years with the insanity that was our family.

I wanted to reconcile too, so many things to tell him. I always thought I would never have enough time to tell him all that I'd been through, but when I finally saw him face-to-face, all the words left, I had nothing to tell him in the end.

He had people, bonds, with someone other than me; he wouldn't be as close to me as we were.

He'd let me go, his dependence on me had disappeared.

It was time I let go too.

I don't know why I felt something burning behind my eyes, but I figured that it was just the sun. I turned away from Gon, rubbing my eyes. "Yeah," I croaked in response to his inquiry, he was concerned as to why I was zoning out again. "I'm just tired... and thirsty."

Gon did not disappoint. "I'll get you some water, wait, ne?" Then he sprang to his feet, darting off.

I rolled onto my back, glaring up at the sky. The sun glared back at me, like it was promising to scorch me to death, but despite the bright sun, I had never felt colder or lonelier in this world.

Something soft landed on my face.

I jerked in alarm, my self-pitying halting as my senses went crazy. I reached up to peel it off but an annoying voice spoke up. "Texture Surprise," The Joker said. "It changes the surface of something through imagination of the user. Using Nen, of course."

"I saw your brief stare-off just now," Hisoka mused. "I must say, your scared-shitless face was amusing."

I scowled, but with the cloth covering my face, I didn't think he noticed at all. "Take it off," I spat.

He didn't.

When he took the cloth off my face, minutes later, it was soaked through. He didn't complain and I didn't say anything.

We watched as the clouds rolled about in the sky, but after a long stiff moment, I turned; I wasn't too surprised to see empty space.

I snorted, glancing back up at the sky.

After emoting for a while, cloud-watching wasn't too hard. Once, I would need to concentrate hard to keep my mind blank. Now, I could just lay there and stare.

Not thinking anything... it was refreshing.

The breeze blew; a seagull cried but the cry wasn't as painful as before. I wonder why.

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Question: Why is Hisoka so nice in this? O.O

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