Medea did not know where Kaiyou had anchored, but it made no difference to her.

The trip had been fairly long, she had estimated that little more than two days had passed since she left Whale Island — and since she had turned off her phone. During all this time, she tried to ignore the bitter feeling that settled in her heart. Obviously, she had failed. Nothing was able to make her forget Kurapika's betrayal or the comments he had made about the Order, for that matter. In fact, it only made her mood worse.

All she wanted to do now was to find a bar and drown her sorrows in a fruity little drink, maybe something stronger. Throw up. Pick a random attractive guy. Fuck him. She still was not entirely sure of the order she should follow.

What she was sure of, though, was that she wanted to ruin herself. Everyone did it to her anyway, it was only fair she did the same.

The sun had disappeared on the horizon a few hours ago. Darkness was becoming denser and denser in that tumultuous city, making her cling to the bag around her body while passing through an empty street. Perhaps being alone at night in an unknown place was neither safe nor wise. In fact, it was insane. Medea knew she should be looking for an inn, but with the need to get intoxicated growing inside her like never before, the best option was to worry about it later.

Dissociating from herself was more urgent than her physical well-being.

Turning the corner of the block, she sighed in relief when a crowded avenue appeared in front of her. It was the perfect atmosphere to go unnoticed by others and, luckily enough, not be robbed. She could not even begin to imagine how severely injured whoever crossed her path would be if they tried anything funny.

The lights on the stores and billboards were blinding, especially for someone who had not slept in more than a day and had gone through an extremely emotional moment. She was physically and mentally exhausted. Her head ached like hell, but she ignored it. Her eyes burned so she squinted them to lessen the discomfort as she struggled to find a bar among so many fast-food restaurants.

Two blocks later, when she was almost giving up and heading to the nearest market when a small, yellowish sign showed up. A bar. It did not take long for her to hurry to it.

The establishment was poorly lit and stank of urine, sex, and cigarettes, a combination that definitely did not please her stomach. Medea chuckled dryly. It was funny that even if she had barely gotten there, the urge to puke was already strong.

Everything going according to plan.

She sat on a high chair in front of a jukebox and placed the bag on her lap as she tied her hair in a ponytail. Walking for so long had left her body too hot.

The bartender approached and tilted his head in a silent demand, his mouth too busy keeping a toothpick between his teeth.

"Tequila, please." Running her hands over her face, she sighed.

She did not normally drink. Actually, it was something only reserved for parties.

Drinking led to momentary dispersion, which was the same as a lack of emotional self-control — and if there was one thing Medea hated, it was not having control over something, especially herself. It was something only stupid people did. However, in the situation she was in, there was no adjective to describe her other than that.

Trusting a complete stranger was stupid. Letting him become part of her life suddenly was also stupid. But, perhaps, hoping her life would finally be normal was the worst of all. How could she have expected different results? People always used her to fulfill their plans anyway — Araeso, Lasym, Enoull, the list seemed to grow every day.

To be completely honest, maybe even Killua and Alluka had been using her this whole time. Perhaps it was better to have to put up with Medea so they could have a safe place than to go back to their family's estate. She would not be surprised nor would she judge them if that was true.

But, then again, it could be simply her paranoid side trying to sabotage her. Even if it was not, she did not wish to find out.

When the bartender put the small glass was put in front of her, she grabbed it eagerly and gulped it down at once. Her throat burned, and her eyes watered. It was like drinking liquid fire. She placed the glass on the surface with a thump and faced the bartender once again. "One more, please."

Behind her, there was a soft chortle followed by footsteps, and soon a figure sat by her side.

This sound… She had heard it before.

Medea turned around and arched an eyebrow when she noticed that it was the man who had approached her in Idyzanon — Illumi's acquaintance or friend or whatever he was. His amber eyes looked particularly sparkly now that she saw them up close. The vivid shade they had resembled fire under the bar's dim light. His smirk remained as malicious as she remembered.

She frowned.

What an unfortunate coincidence.

"That's not the right way to drink tequila, little dove. If you want to do it at once and get drunk fast, it's better to opt for vodka." He advised.

"I didn't ask for your opinion." Medea wanted to make it very clear that she wasn't in the mood to talk and simply ignoring him last time didn't work, the best choice was to be rude.

He supported his chin on his hands. "Don't you think you're being a little too harsh to someone who is trying to help?"

"No."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that!" The man sighed. "I just want to be friendly! Is it too wrong for me to be polite to a pretty girl?"

"Bliedony dirma." Cussed the woman through gritted teeth. "Don't you ever shut up?"

"Occasionally."

"Then do it now."

"Hm… I only do it when my mouth is busy, so what do you have to offer me?" Asked him, his voice warm and velvety.

"A punch."

He bit his lower lip. "How feisty! That's quite sexy of you, you know?"

Medea rolled her eyes, sensing this conversation was going down a path she was not really interested in, at least not with a redhead. And especially not with him. She did not want a friend of Illumi anywhere near her mouth or the rest of her body.

When she got her new tequila glass, she sighed. "Look, mister, I'm not in the best mood tonight. For your sake, I suggest you get away from me before we both regret it." She warned, glaring at him before gulping it down as she had done before.

"You're so cruel, I was simply joking…" The redhead said while motioning with his finger for the bartender to come closer. "Two shots of vodka, please."

"I know men like you. You're trying to play nice so you'll bury your dick in me the first chance you get."

The man's fiery gaze ran over her figure and he smirked. "Oh, you're definitely not wrong, but only under different circumstances."

"As if I needed any confirmation." She chuckled bitterly and tidied up the few strands of hair that fell on her face. "It's not gonna happen."

"Don't worry, little dove, it's not my plan to take you to bed. It would bring me unneeded issues to deal with," He circled the edge of the small glass, "and I certainly want to see your Nen in action."

"Still talking about that? Don't you understand that I don't want to fight with you?" Her patience was running thin.

"Sooner or later, I always end up getting what I want." He declared as he pushed the untouched vodka glass toward the woman. "Go ahead, I didn't put anything in the drink."

"Why should I accept it?" She crossed her arms. "I don't even know your name."

"Because, in the precarious situation you're in, I'm the only person you know." He ingested the liquid immediately, a low moan reverberating down his throat when he put the glass over the dirty wood. "Besides, you seem to be an interesting woman. It won't hurt to spend some time talking with you."

"And who said I want to talk to someone?" Medea mimicked him and almost choked when she felt the drink ripping everything she touched. "Argh, holy shit!"

He wrapped a platinum-blonde lock of hair around his finger, watching how easily it curled.

"You literally wandered from the harbor to here, at night in a place you don't know, in search of somewhere to drink, do you really expect me to think you're mentally stable?" He snickered, arching an eyebrow. "You look like a zombie."

Medea turned to him with horror and slapped his hand away. "Were you following me? " It required her a lot of willpower not to strangle the redhead right there, fingers itching to grab his throat.

Great, another stalker. This week couldn't get any better!

"Your aura is too intense, I simply couldn't resist." He crossed his legs and leaned his body back slightly, staring at her through half-lidded eyes. Medea didn't know if she was disturbed or annoyed at the sight. "So, so obscure, so deliciously out of control . So arousing. Oh, little dove, you're one of a kind!"

Widening her eyes, she grimaced in horror. What kind of person got aroused by bloodlust?

"You know what? I don't need more crazy psychos in my life!"

She did not care to pay the bill. He was the one making her leave, so the responsibility for that was exclusively his.

Gagging a bit as she smelled someone's vomit, Medea made her way through the bar. She could only hope that the man would not suspect her plan of using Zetsu when she passed through the door. All she had to do was remain like that until she was secure again — but when that would happen remained a mystery.

Rushing to get out of the establishment, Medea did not even dare to glance back at him and pushed the door open.

The cold wind blew against her face and she shoved her hands in the coat's pockets as she immediately cut off her aura's flow. And then she raced through the sidewalk.

The travel bag weighed on her shoulder and slapped her in the back and the ribs. Her kitten heels clinked against the pavement, loud and hurried. Hair fell around her face and brushed on her lips, but she ignored it. She could not slow down, no matter what.

From the little she discovered about that man during their encounters, she was aware that he was… Not normal. Which, in retrospect, made sense. He was Illumi's friend.

Unfortunately, it was also obvious that he enjoyed a little cat and mouse game. The rush of it, maybe. And Medea could not allow him to end up making that an excuse for an endless hunt.

She would be at a huge disadvantage if he tried to fight her.

A strong breeze blew against her body, making the hairs on her nape bristle.

Run , the voice told her.

She gulped but complied. She had to disappear as soon as possible.

Her heart was a drum in her chest, and the corners of her vision were getting darker by the second. To make matters worse, she felt something rise in her throat, burning her from the inside. Perhaps drinking alcohol after almost two entire days of fasting had not been her smartest idea.

Her legs were shaky and yet she continued to run amidst the crowd that filled the avenue.

Where should she go? The hotel across the street? One of the alleys?

Medea shook her head. No. She had to create distance between the two of them first and only then would she think of a place to hide.

Subtly, she heard a sound. It increased gradually until something cut the air next to her head. She gasped.

What the hell?

An unbearable pain spread around her hip and the back of her right thigh, at the exact moment she heard the noise again. The woman hissed. It had ripped her jeans and had somehow hit the exact point that would hurt her, exerting the necessary pressure to momentarily paralyze her with pain. She could barely move. "Shit!" She grabbed a streetlight so she would not fall on her face.

With a lot of effort, Medea ripped the thing from her leg, grunting in pain. Her eyes widened when a card appeared in her hand, covered in blood. Ace of diamonds. A shiver ran down her spine.

Oh, it did some damage , muttered the voice in her head.

"Don't you think I know that?" Muttering angrily, Medea ignored the blood flowing from her wound and the pain in her thigh and continued to run.

Her eyelids weighed badly, and it was truly a struggle to keep moving forward. The sleepless night on the ship had made her drained her of energy and now she was spending whatever she had of it. But she could and would run out of it anytime soon.

Her eyes glanced around until they found a vast, colorful neon sign. A nightclub. That would have to do for now.

Heading for the entrance, Medea bit her lip when she saw the security at the door. Fuck, what do I do now? She thought to herself. Think, Medea, think!

Next to her were some girls and boys speaking in a language that she did not know, and the people around them made way for the group promptly. Those people… Had really come in handy. She would take this opportunity and merge with the group. It was night, anyway. She really doubted they would notice her presence, excited as they were.

As she got closer, she tried to tidy her hair and clothes to look less unruly and grabbed her travel bag tighter. The young woman kept her gaze lifted and her face calm, even if her heart was racing in her chest.

None of them seemed to notice the small presence suddenly attached to their shadows.

The sound became louder and louder, and suddenly the group stopped. She stopped too. One of them chatted in that unknown language with the security guard for a few seconds, but from where she was standing she could not make out what it was.

In the end, it did not matter, because soon they were all walking through the narrow door and into the nightclub.

A shiver went through her body again, a weight settling in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong. It was not the cold, because that was gradually dissipating, and it was not hunger. It was something strange. Something she knew, like a bad feeling.

She shook her head. She had to calm down. Being nervous would only prevent her from staying alert and, consequentially, make it easier for him to spot her in the mass of people at the nightclub.

That was why she now found herself in the midst of a crowd of sweaty bodies moving wildly amidst the multicolored lights, the only source of illumination on the dance floor.

Medea stared at the dance floor. It looked so inviting. So fun. How long had it been since the last time she had danced? And it did not mean something coordinated or restricted, just the natural, carefree movement of her body.

She sighed.

A long time.

True, she was there to hide, not enjoy herself, but she wanted to. Badly.

Do not even think about it , hissed the voice, you have an injured leg.

Rolling her eyes, the woman took a look at her thigh. "It's not even bleeding that much."

It might not be, but you still have to find a way out of here , it insisted.

As much as she did not want to admit it, her inner voice was right. It was wiser if she kept quiet and still, and paid attention to the things going on around her. Still, it did not mean she was happy about it. "I know that… Kuyiska …" She mumbled.

Walking alone through the corridors of people while trying to avoid the men who got too close to her, Medea hurried her pace. If she managed to find the exit used by the employees, then she would be fine. He probably would be waiting for her at the main door, or maybe even inside the nightclub, expecting her to be regaining her breath and asking for help instead of finding a stealthy way to escape.

Besides, he was alone. There was no way he could search for other exits all by himself while he intended to corner her again.

One of the bartenders marched to a small passage, a couple of empty bottles in hand, probably heading for the back door to throw them away. Purple eyes roamed around the place briefly and she sighed in relief upon noticing that Illumi's friend was not behind her. Still, it did not mean he was not there. She could still feel the remnants of his aura. It was like a sour taste on her tongue.

Although her legs were trembling and the dark path made her uneasy, Medea did not stop following the bartender.

Her head was spinning as if she might vomit at any moment — but that was most likely due to the strong smell of weed that infested the place. Fortunately, her stomach was too empty for that to happen.

Her body felt hot and she doubted it was only because of her rush. The pain in her leg was not excruciating anymore, she noticed. It was tolerable. And, to be fair, even her headache was subduing. The alcohol was kicking in, or so it seemed. Good. At least now she felt lighter. It would be much easier to plan her next actions now that she was not trying to ignore the burn in the back of her thigh.

Who would have ever thought a deck card could actually harm someone? And only one, at that. It was an impressive feat.

Something clicked in her head.

Only one card.

She frowned. No, that was not it. He had thrown two, in fact, but the first one had not hit her. Somehow, it felt odd. That man did not seem like he missed when aiming; no, quite the contrary, he was the type of guy who liked to toy with his opponents, who took pleasure in the hunt.

But then, why use just two cards? If he wanted to hunt her down, would it not have been faster to throw as many as possible to prevent her from running away?

Why only one card had struck her?

She vaguely recalled the High Priestess saying something about cards and winds, but she was not sure of what. She was not even sure of when she had said that.

Medea opened the door that the bartender had passed through just a few instants before, snooping her head out first and looking from side to side. All she saw were two huge dumpsters and some paper boxes next to them. There was no one in sight.

He must've stayed at the entrance , pondered Medea, smiling. How's that for a prey, huh?

As she made her way through the alley, only her shadow as a company, the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Then, something pricked her in the neck.

Confused, she took a hand to it, but the pain that abruptly spread through her body was so agonizing that she had to lean on the cold brick wall as her body bent forward. She grunted, breaking into a cold sweat. It hurt so bad. Everything was spinning around her. The travel bag fell from her shoulder when the lightness she was feeling until then was replaced by an all-consuming pressure.

It was suddenly too cold.

Too hard to withstand.

The little strength she still had quickly vanished, and her knees gave way, but before she could reach the ground, strong, long arms grabbed her. It was not the man she was running from, she realized. His aura was too calm for that.

Surprisingly, knowing that only made her feel even worse.

Her heart raced in her chest. Her mind told her to move, to get away, to fight this unknown person. She had to do something — anything . And yet, her body did not react. It was just like that night at the Great Temple, when Medea had to swim but was unable to. It was horrifying.

Where was her self-control? What was happening?

The man collected something from the ground and lifted her in his arms without much care, like she was nothing more than a rag doll, making her head hang to the pavement instead of his face. Blood flowed from her wound and her eyelids weighed. She could not react even if she wanted to, the time awake on the ship had made her weary.

Shutting her eyes, she tried to focus.

Control. She had to control her actions. Tears rolled down her face, burning her like acid, and her breath became heavier, but not even then did her body obey her.

"Do not try to resist," A voice that she knew well told her, "you will only feel more pain if you do." When her muscles tensed in his touch, he chuckled. "Are you upset?"

"Of course she is, you paralyzed her with one of your needles."

"Temporarily. And I would not have needed to do that if you had not made her run away, Hisoka."

"I swear it wasn't my fault this time." The redhead said with a sigh. "Believe it or not, we were having a nice, friendly conversation until she got up and left the bar."

"You wounded her." Replied Illumi, a tiny bit of annoyance in his words. "Even after I explicitly told you not to."

"Can you blame me? You know I can't resist a good chase."

Illumi sighed as they crossed the street, heading for a luxurious black car. "I can, actually."

"Put yourself in my shoes for a second, Illu!"

Illu?

"No, I will not. And the next time you ask for a favor, I suggest you reconsider."

"Oh, come on! If I really wanted to injure her, I would have done it already!" Hisoka argued in that typical malicious tone of his. "All I did was—"

"Open the door for me."

"Huh?"

"The door. Open it. Can you not see that my hands are busy?" The assassin retorted.

"Always so polite." He mocked but opened the car's door nonetheless.

When a thud followed by sharp shattering noises sounded through her ears, Medea shut her eyes tight. She wanted to die. Her limited edition Operetta perfume was surely destroyed after Illumi carelessly threw her travel bag on the car floor. Actually, no, she wanted to kill him.

He placed her in a sitting position on the back seat, strapped the seatbelt on her, and closed the door.

All she could do was stare at the empty space between the driver and the passenger's seats, and then at the man who smiled at her. "Oh, my! You actually look so cute like this." Said Hisoka, turning to Illumi. "Keep her this way, Illu." If she was not paralyzed, she would have spat in his face. Fucking redheads .

Illumi put on the seatbelt. "It's temporary."

"But she looks so lovely! Look at her!"

The only she was able to do to show her discontentment was narrow her eyes when both men looked at her. Illumi blinked. "You are right. I should keep her like this." She glared at him harder. "She almost resembles a proper lady. A doll, even."

His friend chuckled. "Told you so."

"And I suppose it is better to drive without hearing her complaints." Added him as he started the car. "You will not care if I keep my needle in you for a little longer, will you, Medea?"

She flared her nostrils.

"Well, she didn't say no." Hisoka tapped his lips with a finger, thinking.

Illumi smirked. "Silence gives consent, is that not right?"

"Precisely!"

"Oh, so that means she agrees. How wonderful!" She exhaled loudly, but none of them paid her any mind. "In this case, we can finally leave."

Golden eyes locked onto hers and fury rushed through her. "Brace yourself, little dove. And try not to vomit."

Vomit?

The car suddenly accelerated, and her body was pressed hard against the seat. Her eyes widened. If she could, she would have screamed. That was not how cars were meant to be driven! She felt sick. They were actually kidnapping her and she could do nothing about it, not even attempt to escape. She closed her eyes and ignored the discomfort.

It was going to be a long ride.

DNIHIPIAN TRANSLATION

Bliedony dirma - Fucking shit

Kuyiska - Bitch

Medea hates redheads, if that's not clear enough. I don't btw. Love all of you