A/N: Original full title: At the very front of the waiting station of a roller coaster ride. (I'm serious.)

DISCLAIMER: Hunter x Hunter is all Togashi's.

OWC : 3,351 words

Chapter 31

Rollercoaster Ride

When I was younger, around seven or eight, my father used to forbid me to go outside the house in the day, especially after sunset. Well, he'd always had been doing that, but at those ages he made sure to be effective in drilling it into my mind. I asked him why. He said, "There are drunkards."

I asked him why, again. And he told me, "Ask your mother. She always has a brilliant answer to everything."

And I did. I tugged at the hem of her sleeve and asked. She turned to me with a warm smile. "Darling, they drink because of the pain. You know, behind each drunken gaze, sweetheart, they've been hurt. Getting drunk offers them numbness, a way to forget and ignore the pain."

I closed my eyes, feeling the cool wind the terrifying air conditioner that was set at 19'C spewed out settle against my pulsating, heated flesh. The twisting of my intestines, my guts, were getting tighter, and I could feel the knots tie themselves up in unexplainable bunches. It was getting harder to breathe as I waited, waited for the phone to vibrate and him to respond.

Looking for numbness was a natural human impulse after pain.

[Was masochism a natural impulse too?]

I blinked and the glass table had turned watery in my gaze, and it turned something like liquid through my fingers. Numbness, huh? And then I tried to look through the unclear haziness, trying to search for someone—something, anything—that would serve as a beacon of light in that darkness, in that same bitter and cold darkness that seemed to be stabbing into my guts like knives directed by a heartless person.

Suddenly everything made sense to me, the blades and the drugs that the teenagers my age—according to what I've been reading in places—everywhere else in the world seemed to be so obsessed with. The so called "numbness" was a double-edged sword waiting to be used.

Numbness was key.

"I actually thought we would never see each other."

The sound of the train that was suddenly, noisily racing across the tracks filled the room, masking's Gon's total contemplative silence. Killua paid no heed and just stared on at the moon, and the sky that was in a hue between Navy and Prussian blue where the stars basked. His eyes reflected the color that was similar to his own, the moon somehow turning glassy in the reflection in his orbs.

And then, Gon laughed, breaking the thin ice that had managed to crawl in between the two of them. "But it's okay now, isn't it?"

"Now?" Killua asked curiously.

"Now that we're together!" Gon explained cheerily, a wide, ear-to-ear grin pasting itself on his face, highlighting the new-found shine of relief in Gon's chocolate brown eyes.

(This was the final page of their adventure in Kukuru…so far. And the fact that they've lived so far to tell the tale, Gon was happy about it.)

"Oh, yeah," Killua agreed absentmindedly, long after the words had sunk in in his heart like a warm knife to butter. After a slight pause, a devilish kind of smirk made its way across Killua's face. If he had some, his kitsune ears would have twitched in excitement. "Oh and… I don't mind it, but, you might as well stop trying to hide yourself as you eavesdrop, Akane. You've been giggling for quite a while now."

"Eh?"

Akane's covers rustled and she was revealed with a stupid smile on her face. Her hair looked like weeds that had tumbled for so long in the desert, tangling in a way that was extraordinary. She pat her head with her hand and ran her fingers through it silently. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. You two just sounded so adorable, like a newly-wed couple or something. Lovebirds," she added at the end, then giggled again.

"What did you say?" Killua's expression was priceless as Akane's smile turned smug.

Hitting his friend's shoulders playfully, Gon laughed out loud, not conscious of the fact that Kurapika and Leorio were fast asleep. "Don't worry about Akane, Killua. She was worried sick for you, too."

Akane turned pale, smug expression melting away. "I was not!"

"Were too!" Gon insisted, laughing.

"She was?" Killua asked, slightly shocked, but no sooner a comic smile crawled up to take over his face again. Blackmail time.

Akane wanted to smack Gon in the face for revealing that top secret that would now endanger her from Killua in a meaning more than one.

Gon laughed, and then pulled on both of them to a group hug. "But it's okay now. Everything is and forever will be okay."

The dreams faded away, and the disc with the memories was taken out of the player as waking truth pulled her eyelids open.

The sun rose in time with the roosters crowing that morning. Akane woke up pretty early, too, much earlier than her master, when the sun was still merely peering from behind the mountains where Kurapika was. She had groggily walked to the kitchen—still improperly dressed for the day in her sleeping clothes—and went over to make herself some warm cocoa.

The first week had passed by like an easy summer breeze. They had gotten to know each other better and they'd started the basic training. Basic physical training was introduced to her with 200 rounds of push-ups, sit-ups, and bending… then rinse and repeat. She knew that her master hated Pesto and loved having tomatoes in his pasta, which he could eat every day. Basic Mental training was spent with hours of meditation, and attacks while doing so. She knew that two sachets of brown sugar wasn't enough for her master's morning coffee—two and a half would be just right. And those were the basic essentials.

Her master had openly discussed with her one lunch meal that all those tiring basics opened her to the second level of training. And that all those tiring basics were going to be really helpful in the future. But he never told her, however, that in that one week he—they—had managed to successfully, discreetly, and secretly, open her shoukos.

(So she had no idea.)

"Goodmorning, Akane. What did you make us for breakfast today?"

Akane whirled around in her seat. "S—sensei! I—I, um, hadn't—um…uh"

"You just woke up, didn't you?" he asked with a knowing smile.

Scratching the back of her head, Akane smiled. "Ehehe… well… I thought it was a bit too early to cook for a six-thirty a.m. breakfast…ehehehe…" She stole a glance at the clock to see if her alibi would actually buy—six fifteen.

But her sensei, who seemed fairly distracted enough, paid no attention to her stammering reasons and excuses. He walked away from her and, instead, approached the open window, pushing, out of the way, the fleecy curtains with simple, not-so-fancy designs. A comforting kind of silence fell in between them, but Akane was still squirming in her seat.

He sighed as he stared on, the sunlight getting caught in between the strands of his hair, turning the brown strands lighter, brighter—golden.

"What do you think of today's sunrise, Akane?"

Akane's eyes widened at the question. It had come so randomly, so out-of-the-blue that it had driven her silent for a good number of seconds. But then suddenly a warm smile melted on her face as she closed her eyes, letting the words flow and carry her someplace else.

"Magical, sensei. And different, in a good sense."

Her sensei's lips curled up at the sides to form a thin, weak smile, one that was radiating a kind of heartening warmth that made Akane smile even bigger. The day started good, somewhere close to perfect, and she had a very nice feeling about it.

She took a deep breath, and, leaning her back against the chair, letting her hands make their way through the strands of her hair briskly, quickly, like on a routine, before finally tying it at the end with a blue ribbon she kept on her wrist, locking the braid tight and secure.

And then, Akane stood up, carrying her already empty mug to the sink and rinsing it over with water. She pulled at the apron hanging numbly from a rusty nail standing from the cream wall, tying it thoughtlessly behind her neck, feeling the cool of the night dissipate in the air around her as the sunlight made its way, piercing through all the spaces of the house.

Her master was dusting the little shelf near the corner of the TV, most likely holding out a single exact photo frame with a picture of his daughter Aika, like he would every morning, and kiss the picture on the forehead. Then he would put it back on the shelf, so softly that the clink of the wooden frame against the glass would be barely audible. She would have time to ask about Aika, but not now, not at that moment when it wasn't right. Then he would turn around just in time like he always would, to face his new student and she would—

She whirled around, the smile from earlier still plastered on her face like a sticker unpeeled. "So, what do you want to eat, Sensei?"

"'Actually, all Hunters are pretty stubborn. That's why while you're listening to this tape, I should be somewhere doing something stupid. So if you want to meet me, come and find me. …Catch me if you can.'"

A very normal-to-see-on-him grin ate away at Gon's young face as Akane looked on curiously, eyebrows raised as if trying to say to Gon the question without saying the actual words because to her it was just so obvious.

When Akane elicited no reaction from him, she decided to say it out loud. She sighed. "Gon, seriously. I mean, I kind of know why you're doing this, but I'm not getting it quite well. Why do you even…um, bother? He'd already left you for all his craziness… He almost doesn't even deserve to be looked for by a kid like you! He's one careless father if you ask me."

Gon's face actually turned blank for a moment, before a smile made its way back up again. Smiling seemed to be his second nature. But despite the smile that remained there, a serious and determined tone eased up in his voice.

"It's a father-son thing," he explained, chuckling as he went, like it was a joke and he was about to deliver the mighty punch line. "He challenged me and I accepted the challenge. I've looked for him and there's no more backing down, not here, halfway."

Akane looked at him with disbelieving eyes. She was awed at the tenacity of the kid. He had some real lucky and reckless father, right there.

And then she heard from the speakers that their—Kurapika and hers—flight would be delayed due to some technical problems. She was about to sulk somewhere for, man, how much she hated waiting, when she remembered something, it having just suddenly popped from the back of her mind.

She turned to Killua, waving a packet of chocolate balls in her hand to call his attention. "And you, you take care of Gon, okay?" she said.

"Chocorobokun~?" Killua asked the packet, grabbing it from Akane's hands. His face lit up in recognition. "Chocorobokun!" He brought it to his face, rubbing it against his cheek like a little kid who finally got the toy he'd been obsessing on. Then, after he had seemed to have gotten out of what Akane had mused to call, in those few seconds, his chocorobokun-induced trance, he shot an accusing glance at the Akane who was watching him amusedly. "And you! Why are you making it sound like I'm the bad guy?"

Akane could not suppress her laughter. "'Cause you are!" she said, and after a slight pause, added, "—joke." Killua had an expectant look on his face, but Akane did not know how to fulfil whatever it was asking. Instead, she just went on to pat the heads of the two kids. "Just, you two, good luck. And stay safe."

Leorio, who had been silently keeping watch, pouted. "What about me?"

Everybody went on and laughed, painting the picture of happiness onto a canvas of their memories, with the eighth color of the rainbow.

If anyone had bothered to ask Akane how she felt that very day, she would have said she felt "like she was at the station." And if anybody bothered to ask a follow up question that asked, "What station? The police station?" She would take a deep breath and continue on with her long answer that she had made up in her ramble in her head.

She felt like she was in the waiting station, in front of a long, long line, waiting for their turn in the roller coaster. She was standing in front of the line and the ride of those who went ahead of her was about to finish, and it was just about her turn. She felt like taking the front seat, where all the action happened. But that rollercoaster was special, because it was that rollercoaster who decided how long the ride would last—one minute or one century, or probably even more to torture her just with the thought. She had no control on where the cars would go, where it would take her, up and down in a maze that she couldn't even see. She would just be there. The rollercoaster was transparent, where she thought it would be safe would actually be dangerous. She would see the people in distorted shapes and as she is spun in the air in infinite loops she would not be able to think straight, she would not be able to make a coherent thought. The only clear thing is what is right ahead of her, nothing too far and nothing behind her. And at the end of the ride she'd probably feel nauseous or tired or probably just plain dizzy. But at the end she would just turn to the exit and walk away—back to the end of the line.

(But not now, not yet. She was still in the waiting station, in front of a long, long line, aware that it would be one hell of a wait and one hell of a ride. She knew what would come for her but she was not scared, no, she wasn't. Not now that she was at the front of the line.)

But no one bothered to ask Akane how she felt that day, so she never bothered to answer.

"When I was a kid, they used to teach in the schools that the stars are actually beacons of light coming from the spirits of the dead that continue to stay, lives that do not want to leave us, souls that continue to watch in guard."

Akane turned around from her seat in the dining table. "What?"

"Back there, in Rukuso," Kurapika started. It just slid out of her mouth as if it was by reflex. He just wanted to tell her everything, tell her the entire world. "Back there in Rukuso, every time there was a full moon there would be a ceremony. Nights with a full moon were usually the nights when people were closest to the spirits, when people were most vulnerable physically but strongest spiritually." He took a deep breath, shooting a glance to the window, peering to the full moon. "There was a full moon, you know. The week before the massacre, people were celebrating. Yes, we were. And that night we held a baptism for one my cousins. His name was Kohaku, he had amber eyes and everybody believed that he was an angel. He had beautiful eyes." His voice was drifting away and Akane wondered if he was slowly falling into sleep, or into a fantasy five years back. "I named him. I named him—Kohaku. It was a cool September morning when he was born, a cool, cool September morning. The sun hadn't even risen then, and when it did it reflected against his eyes and they were gold—they were gold…"

Akane's eyes fluttered as she shivered in her seat. She rested her chin on the top of the backrest and purred like a sleepy kitten. She pulled the blanket over her form. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

(If I was, she asked herself, then why aren't tears springing in my eyes? Do I actually feel anything for Kurapika's people?—they are mine too, aren't they? Isn't this what I've been looking for, my lost heritage?)

"It's not like you can do anything about it, can you?" Kurapika asked uncertainly, and Akane could only blink her eyes. "What's done is done. Five years has passed and Kohaku is merely a memory, a beacon on where I'm supposed to go. He pushes me on. He wasn't even one year old, Akane, he wasn't. But what's done is done, and…"

"…then why are you still pushing over for this so-called righteous avenging?" Akane asked. "Will your vengeance bring Kohaku back? Or your mother, or your father?"

Silence was what answered Akane and she hoped that he got it. She pulled herself closer to Kurapika by dragging her seat closer to his place in the sofa, blanket still around her arms. She took a deep breath and looked at Kurapika, hoping she was as ready as she thought she was for that moment.

"Your blood stained hands will not bring them back, Kurapika. You lost them all in less than a day, and you are not going to be able get them back."

Akane stared at Kurapika's eyes, trying to beat blue with turquoise, trying to drill with the intensity of her stare the lesson into Kurapika's mind. May it carve itself roughly against your hard head, she thought bitterly in her head. She understood and got a 3D view of what was going on with him, but she just couldn't stand watching him break just like that.

And then, sleep and blanket forgotten, Akane stood up and walked away with an air of sadness and pity, to the bathroom. Maybe a good shower would clean her senses, her heart, of the whatever emotions that were dragging her, weighing her down. And the towel fell on her shoulders as her bare skin was embraced by the cool wind and the empty words of a Kurutan Prayer that Kurapika had yet to teach her.

A/N: I'm sorry I'm being really slow at this arc, I'm just trying to get them into place. You don't know how much I'm itching to get to the action, too. Which might cut off the chapter count to less than 40. We'll see.

(I'm sorry, I've been very misleading. I will get on to the point with Akane next chapter.)

Any ideas on what's going on so far, and how stuff will go?

Reviews help Akane with her mood swings.
(And gives Killua and the author free chocolate.)

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