Disclaimer: I don't own Hunter x Hunter, because if I did, I'm pretty sure shirts would be illegal for everyone with a six pack AND a pretty face.

Riven could barely handle the wait. As the time on the clock neared zero, her imagination ran away from her. What if Treno did know how many children had been at the orphanage? As unlikely as it seemed, the sandy haired prisoner was full of surprises. He knew some of her most difficult riddles, and something told her it had never mattered whether he knew them before hand or not. Riven tried to read his face, but all she received was a stonewall. He wasn't smirking or getting angry, rather, he was studying her intently, contemplatively.

The clock reached the final 60 seconds. Still, Treno did nothing, and his face remained frozen. Forty. Thirty. The final results were about arrive, and Riven felt as though she would burst. Twenty. Sweat dripped down her brow, but she didn't dare wipe it away. It dripped down her temple. Ten. Even the crowds were silent.

When there were three seconds left, Treno cackled and opened his mouth. "Two-Hundred-fourteen," he coolly answered.

"That's incorrect."

Treno didn't seemed surprised like she thought he would. He just seemed like he had already accepted it. He seemed like he knew he would get it wrong, but he had fun anyways. He choked again as he was dragged to the edge. They'd tied at 5-5, so the pulley stopped as he reached the drop.

"So how many of us were there that night?" He asked out of the blue. His insane demeanor had gradually diminished until he seemed almost normal and nonchalant.

His strange actions couldn't faze Riven at this point.

"Two-hundred-seventeen," she offered. "If you would like, I could name them..."

Treno shook his head in refusal. "I'll take your word for it," he drawled before shooting her a lop-sided grin. "I know people like you. You're a different kind of crazy." He released a steady sigh, ruffling his hair. "I suppose now we should get to our fight." He loosened his noose and lifted it over his head, and Riven mirrored him gladly.

She had done it; she had managed a tie. Now she just had to win a fight.

"For rules, how about we just say a fight to the death, or until someone forfeits?" Treno asked her nonchalantly. Riven was almost sensing some sort of reluctance, or comradery. Could it be because he now knew she had been there the night the Witches had come? Or was she just a wishful thinker?

"Fine by me," she responded, rubbing her bruised neck tenderly. She secretly wiggled her foot to feel for her knife, and then she tensed her muscles, ready. Karasu shifted in his hiding spot, restless. He wanted out; he wanted to fly. The mechanical whir signified the retraction of the ropes, and in minutes they had been sucked up into the wall.

And just like that, the fight began. Treno was no doubt stronger than Riven, so right away she figured she would have to rely on speed and technique, but when the Brunet charged her, she discovered that his agility nearly matched her own. He darted to her left in a blur, trying to play to her weakness. Her blurry eyes had a tough time focusing, but she managed to make a simple evasive step. Treno's fist sailed right past her, but he had controlled it, and the next thing she knew, his elbow struck her in the temple, hard. She gasped and spun away, her ears ringing and her vision white. She barely managed to remain on her feet. He was no ordinary human.

Before Riven recovered, Treno was on her again. He was reaching for her hair, probably to pull her off of balance. Before he had gotten a firm hold, however, Riven stomped her foot into the stone beneath them. She did so at such an angle that her dagger popped right out of her boot and she snatched it from the air, sheath and all, smashing Treno's hand. He retracted it and backed off for the time being, laughing.

"I suppose I never restricted the use of weaponry," he admitted, shaking out his fist. It was obviously broken, as was four of his fingers. Riven had broken skin, and rivulets of blood dripped to the ground.

Red filled her vision as well; her left temple bleed, where he had elbowed her. It wasn't a good sign, and neither was her still swimming head. She probably had a concussion. She took a deep breath, mostly to calm a seething Karasu. She had to hide him for as long as she could. She needed him to be a turning point in this battle, and that couldn't happen before she hatched a plan to defeat Treno. Until then, she would have to let the adrenaline fight for her, even though it wasn't really her style. Riven gripped her dagger and unsheathed it, slipping the casing back into her boot, but never breaking eye-contact with the ferocious criminal trying to kill her. If he were to attack then, she would abandon the sheath on the ground and counter, but he stayed where he was, so she was able to remove it from the terrain. Tripping on it or letting Treno use it to block her blade could have been a major downfall. As it was, her only advantage was her sharp edge. Treno had nothing to block with, besides his own body. Hopefully enough wear and tear would leave him unable to fight. A surprisingly strong voice in her head told her not to kill him, but if it came down to it...

Riven might not even have the option.

Treno remained the aggressor and charged her again, this time disappearing, and reappearing behind her. He brought his uninjured arm down, aiming for her head. Riven crouched and leaned as far as she could to the right without losing her balance. Her hair hadn't even managed to follow her when she used the force of her body weight to try and sweep her leg underneath the prisoner. He jumped back instantly, just to avoid her kick, before making a grab for her extended ankle. His fingers brushed her skin before Riven brought her leg all the way through, swinging her front towards him as well. She knocked him off with a combination of her knife and her fist, breaking the skin of his cheek and bruising his jaw. He was forced to fall back, laughing like his old self, but he recovered much more quickly than Riven had anticipated; she hadn't held back, afterall. In a heartbeat, he was already back at it, swinging at her and trying to grab her. She was forced into defense, even though he was only using one arm. He nearly had her hair for the second time, making her think that she should start wearing it up, but for some reason, she easily got away, nearly landing a counter strike. Perhaps aiming for it was too predictable? Maybe she was unwittingly extra prepared for such a move.

Another pause in the exchange found its way into their battle. Riven couldn't help but notice that only fifteen seconds had ticked off from the clock, the large and constant one that gave them three days to get through the tower. She had thought that many minutes had gone by, but the adrenaline must have put their bodies into overdrive. She had never moved this fast.

Riven went for blood this time, deciding to use her reach to her advantage. Instead of blunt blows with her fist, she slashed with her dagger. This put Treno in a tough spot. He had a hard time getting close enough when he was constantly avoiding a blade. His demeanor was still arrogant, however, and Riven still felt like she was losing the tussle. She landed several cuts, but nothing major. Was this new style she used the same as going for her hair? Was it so predictable that Treno had prepared himself? She certainly wasn't getting anywhere, and the only one who benefitted from this fight dragging out was him.

Riven was just about to swing with a blade and fist combination when her vision went white. Her body rolled and skidded to a stop, way too close to the edge. Her arms and legs stung and her eyes wouldn't focus. Three different Treno's casually approached her from across the arena, where she had just been moments before. She was actually just seeing doubles. Treno had bested her reach with a kick.

Riven scrambled to her knees, ignoring her aching head and worsened sight. Treno launched himself at her face, but she rose to her feet just in time, breaking off into a run before she had even stood up all the way. Her vision nearly went black, so she had no choice but to tuck her shoulder in and roll as the ground behind her cracked like a bomb gone off. Treno's blows that had hit her before were just as powerful. She wondered in the back of her head how her skull hadn't crumbled to dust like the stone arena's floor.

Treno's face suddenly filled her entire field of vision. A stone hit her in her gut, and her knees collapsed in on themselves. She was bent over Treno's fist, her feet hanging a foot from the ground, and her face about to kiss the stone. Then he dropped her onto her stomach, raising his arm for the final blow.

A flash of white appeared, and then suddenly, Treno was thrown off balance, blood painting the ground at Riven's head.

She blinked her eyes open, slowly, and gathered herself. She forced her legs to stand, even though she stumbled several times. Her cheek was caked with dried blood, her forehead was covered in purple bruises, her arms and knees were leaking red, she was about to vomit, and her neck was still damaged. But she was alive.

Treno laid still on the ground, her arm swept over his face. Red soaked his clothes, through and through.

He laughed just like he did when he first stepped out onto the arena, a bone-chillingly psychotic laugh that Riven would never miss, but always remember.

"You win," he surrendered, almost sarcastically. He threw up his free arm. "I give up."

Riven stared down at him shocked. Three feet away, a pure white bird cawed about like nothing had happened. His downy feathers were moist and slick with dark liquid. In his claws, he clenched two round orbs so tightly that they were nearly torn to shreds.

With a sinking feeling, Riven realized that it was Karasu.

Karasu had ripped Treno's eyes right out of their sockets.

Karasu had returned to her easily enough. She wiped the majority of Treno's blood off of him with the wait of her jacket, but his feathers were stained. She tried to ignore it, and let him ride her shoulder. The other prisoners, at least the bald one, had shown a surprising amount of pity and had carried a bleeding and sightless Treno off the arena. He probably didn't care, but thought he had to do it. At least they didn't hurt him anymore than he already was.

Walking back on the tiny pathway was more difficult than before, what with her spinning head. She was greeted back by her friends.

"Riven!" Leorio patted her on the back. He wasn't congratulating her, however. "I told you, you shouldn't have gone out there! Look at you, you're half dead!" He seemed to have trouble deciding on whether he should be happy she won or upset that she was such a wreck. Riven was right with him. She offered him a small smile.

"Not my best moments, I will admit," she croaked, her throat torn to hell. Gon gave her a sympathetic look.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. Riven, touched, nodded. He blasted a grin at her, trusting her word. Killua didn't spare her a glance, something she was surprisingly thankful for, and Tonpa seemed to be laughing at her pain.

"Why don't you let Leorio take a look at your wounds?" Kurapika suggested. He seemed concerned and relieved, but it also seemed a little forced. No doubt he was unnerved by what had went down. He had shaken it off a lot more than Riven had, however. Perhaps that was because she knew Karasu so well, and never in a million years would she have thought he would turn so violent. Treno had nearly hit him when he landed that last blow to her gut, but it had seemed more like her raven was trying to protect her rather than himself. She wasn't sure how she should feel. At the moment she felt numb and tired.

She barely noticed when Leorio shined a miniature flashlight in her eye. When her mind focused again, he was shaking her shoulders. She blinked and discovered that she had been sat down and rested against the wall. Lerio had cracked open his black case to reveal it held medical supplies.

"You definitely have a concussion, so don't sleep for awhile, okay?" he asked in his doctor voice. She nodded distantly. Leorio sighed and moved onto her other wounds. In record time, she wall all patched up, with gauze wrapped around her head and bandages secured around her arms and knees.

"Feeling any better?" Lerio questioned after awhile. Riven had to admit, he was a wonderful doctor. His doting felt nice. She smiled at him and nodded.

"Thanks to you."

The brunet scoffed and turned away, but it was in a good nature. Riven began to grow restless, so she rose to her feet to watch the next match. She was just in time to learn that Kurapika had offered to go next.

"Good luck," she wished him sincerely, giving him a nod. He returned it and made his way done the pathway.

Riven then noticed the large prisoner that he would be going up against, and her decent mood went done the drain. He was a giant, with large blue biceps and a massive chest. What was most unsettling was his hideously deformed face. She felt ill just looking at him. And then he opened his mouth to brag, and her terrible premonition vanished. Riven wasn't the most socially perceptive person, and even she could tell that every word that flowed through his lips was a ridiculous lie. Majitani, he was called apparently, began to boast about the nineteen people he had killed, which corresponded to the pink hearts tattooed on his pectoral. Riven thought that they were most unthreatening thing to permanently etch onto your skin.

The blue prisoner demanded a fight to the death, or until someone surrendered. When Kurapika accepted and removed his tribal wear, Majitani quickly added that no weapons or outside help was allowed, including pets. Kurapika accepted those terms as well and removed his wooden swords, tossing them on top of his discarded tabard. Then the fight commenced, and Majitani was quick to throw the first punch. Kurapika easily dodged, sliding to a stop. The ground that Majitani had struck crumbled and sent large pieces of stone shooting in every which direction.

Then Majitani turned around, sealing his fate.

'A spider tattoo with twelve legs?' Riven thought, wondering where she had heard of such a thing before. She frowned when her feeling of bad fortune returned. She heard Leorio and Tonpa gasp beside her.

"That's..." Leorio gulped, his face dampened with sweat.

"Any aspiring Hunter has heard of them..." Tonpa seemed to agree. While Riven felt like the image was familiar, she wouldn't have gone as far as to say that she had heard of 'them'. Her curiosity had her staring at the squarish man in blue until he finally offered some information.

"That's a symbol worn by a notorious band of thieves..." he continued cautiously. "The Phantom Troupe."

Now that was something Riven remembered.

In the Dark Place, they were spoken of often, yet discreetly. They were depicted in two ways: either they were the monsters that brought the fever, and everything else considered evil, or they were heroes who fought the wicked government and higher powers. Riven had always believed neither. To her, they were made up superstitions and glorified criminals. People always needed someone to blame. People always needed someone to idolize. She had often believed that this never before seen group was just a legend. She had never given them a second thought.

But when Lerio let the sidelines know that Kurapika knew they existed, Riven couldn't help but wonder why. Kurapika was the most intelligent person she had ever met, much too smart to believe in tall tales.

And then Riven saw Kurapika's eyes.

She was hypnotized.

They were beautiful; they were the brightest, deepest, and most vivid red she had ever seen.

They were also very angry, and so full of hate and disgust that it made her shudder.

"Kurapika..." she unconsciously murmured his name. She wanted to throw her heart to him, to make him kill that flaming hatred that burned his victims, and burned him as well. She wanted Kurapika to stop hurting so much...

...Was it her friend that made her feel so strongly?

Or... was it just the eyes?

Majitani was just as shocked as Riven when he was grabbed by the jaw. Kurapika had full on charged him. With a raised, shaking fist, the normally calm blond struck the beast with a vengeful fury.

Killua let out an impressed whistle.

"There are three things that you should consider," Kurapika nearly whispered. Riven heard his voice tremble with rage, like a quiet storm. "First, a real Phantom Troupe tattoo has the member's number on the spider."

Riven checked Majitani's back, and sure enough, the spider was solid and plain. No number.

"Second," Kurapika continued, his eyes hidden, "they don't bother counting how many they kill. Third," the blond spat. He looked at Majitani's still form on the arena ground, his eyes owning an other worldly weight. "Never speak of the troupe again. If you do... I will kill you."

Riven believed him.

Thanks for reading! I apologize for any typos or mistakes.

See you next time!

~Mao