Chapter 1: The Start of Something
Chapter Text
“Guhya.”
Laik called her and Aine gave the sky one last look before she blinked curiously at him. Laik didn’t say anything else though, only continued to fiddle with her hair. His dark skin stood out and made a great contrast amidst it, almost like how his hoary eyes stood out from the rest of him.
She had never seen anyone like him before, but she was told that from where he came from, a lot of everyone shared the same characteristics as him. Aine thought they would be a very beautiful group of people if that was true. She would like to see them one day, Laik's people.
But she didn’t know where Laik came from, and he wouldn’t tell her either. He wouldn’t even tell her what Guhya meant or which language it was from. Aine thought to ask Blaise, but Laik wanted her to find it out herself. It was more fun that way, Laik reasoned, and Aine didn’t protest.
Aine couldn’t search for it either because it was a spoken language.
Sometimes, Aine felt that Laik was talking bad about everyone and everything under the sun, gossip, when he sat with her by the window and pointed to various things below them, then snickered. Laik would talk with that mischievous grin on his face and that glint in his eyes.
He would continue to talk in his common tongue to Aine despite her not knowing a lick of it. As far as she knew, Laik only did that with her. Blaise didn’t count because he could understand Laik. When Aine asked Laik why, he had only smiled.
“What will you do now that your beloved Bayu has finally left you alone, Guhya?” Laik said, the prolonged silence broken with his silvery voice, the unknown word rolling in a particular way on his tongue.
“I will wait for him to come back.”
“Boring,” he drawled. “You always wait. Wait and wait and wait. Like an obedient pet waiting for its owner, even when you keep looking at the sky with that look in your eyes. So boring.”
Aine wondered what look she had. Lightly, she grazed her face with the tip of her nails in her thinking. What kind of face was it? Aine was afraid she still wouldn’t be able to comprehend it even if she were to ask Laik to describe it for her.
“Laik finds many things boring,” she said.
“Because many things are boring.”
Whether it was people or things or anything in between, it was boring for him, Aine thought. Especially a number of their peers. They bored him and sometimes, they annoyed him. So much that he wished to rip their foul mouths off, Laik often told her.
Their teeth would decay before long with how much rot was spewing out of them, she thought. Although their words were less vulgar, their meaning and intent were the same as that uncle. Aine didn’t hate them as she did him though.
Laik twirled her hair around, looking at her with his upturned eyes.
Aine thought they were bitter of him. Laik was so different from them, but he was more beautiful than any of them. He was so pulling and so unique, so they couldn’t help wanting to approach him. And when they did, Laik was very, very aloof.
They didn’t like that.
(In her case, it was something different, though, something quite funny and ridiculous when thought about.)
“Though I reckon you wouldn’t understand that.”
“I do, but not every time.”
She couldn’t imagine finding such fascinating things boring.
“You find many things interesting, Guhya.”
“I think I do.”
Maybe it was because they were so different, that they were friends. Bayu didn’t like that they were friends though. He said Laik was a bad influence. Aine wasn’t sure about that, but Laik was a good friend despite brother Bayu’s opinion.
Then, Laik said, somewhat offhandedly, “You always look so wistful, like you’re about to break into tears, but you never do. It’s a wonder.”
“It’s very tiring to cry.”
“I thought for sure you would cry seeing your beloved Bayu departed.”
“He will come back again.”
“Don’t you want to do something exciting while he’s gone?” Laik asked. “Waiting around is very boring, Guhya.”
“Bayu says I am very good at getting lost in my head.”
Many, many times, he had told her, with crass words that shouldn’t leave her mouth unprompted. The more he said them, the less heat there was.
And now, they were just empty remarks.
Laik looked amused. “That you are. That you are.”
Deep in thought, Aine finally relented to him. “What is that ‘something exciting’ that you talk about, Laik?”
Aine had never seen so many people in one place before. She was told to be careful and not get lost amidst the crowd, and, at first, she was confused. Although Aine was not exceptional with directions, as long as the correct guidance was given, she would be fine.
Now she knew why.
To be honest, Aine was feeling slightly overwhelmed. She had never gone outside without another person before. It would be accurate to say that Aine had never truly been alone before. When she was smaller, there was Mama. Then Bayu came, and there were Mama and Big Brother Bayu.
Then Mama was gone, and it was Aine and big brother Bayu.
After a while, Blaise came, after him, many more, then Laik was also suddenly there.
Laik said she was too dependent, once. Aine didn’t think she was, but it could just be that she never noticed it. In her opinion, she thought the overly dependent one was Brother Bayu. Aine would never say that outright to Bayu unprompted, though. He would hate for it to be said, even when he already begrudgingly knew it in his heart.
Aine didn’t mind because she liked to help. But being too dependent on others was not good, that was what Blaise had said at least, and Blaise was smart and knew a lot of things. She didn’t know that before. Aine didn’t want to be a ‘bad thing’ for Bayu.
(Big Brother Bayu needed to be happy. He was always so sad. Bayu was just like his mother. So, so sad. If he kept being with that, would his end be the same as Auntie Cai? Auntie Cai was very sad every time Aine saw her, more than Mama, even though she never cried. Because she was so sad, she was gone.
And after she was gone, Bayu became extremely sad and extremely angry. That had ought to be exhausting, Aine thought. So draining and heavy. That was what Aine felt, at the very least, she knew that it was impossible for everyone would feel like her, but that was the only experience she had. Aine could only go off of that.
He wasn't as sad and as angry anymore though, so he must be getting closer to some form of happiness. Even if Bayu said he didn’t need any of that, Aine felt that every being must have a yearning for their version of happiness, so she called him a liar and ran off before he could refute it.)
That was why she decided to take Laik’s suggestion, marginal complaints, about the way she was living. It was most likely not the way he intended for her to take it, but she took it, nonetheless. Codependency wasn’t healthy, Blaise told her that when she went for his advice, and that was all she got.
Normally, if Brother Bayu was there, Aine would never have stepped a foot outside without him even with Blaise’s permission. And so, what was a better time to begin the first step of his happiness by not being a ‘bad thing’ for him without him being here to quarrel against than when he was not here but in another continent?
The Federation of Ochima was quite the distance away, and it would be three months more until he returned, and by then, Bayu must have formed some sort of connections with others for him to be less dependent on Aine. The blow of her not being home would have to lessen considerably.
It was kind of an absurd plan now that she thought about it again, however, this wasn’t all just for him either. Aine wanted to see the world as well. She would admit it was scary for her to be doing all of this so abruptly, stifling, it was like walking out of Gu Long for the first time, but everything needed a starting point.
And it was not like she couldn’t turn tail and head back if she really wanted to. If Aine headed back now, Bayu would never know, and everything would turn back to normal as long as no one snitched on her.
But that would only happen if Aine really couldn’t anymore.
She could be determined and equally as stubborn as she wanted to be.
Aine boarded the ship heading out of Wathhythe De Willo still not fully knowing what a Hunter was.
Notes:
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter Text
Whale Island was very different from Wathhythe De Willo. The size, the population, the atmosphere. It was nigh a complete opposite. Aine questioned if she would begin to miss Wathhythe De Willo sometime in the future. Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t.
She never missed Gu Long after all, but she didn’t think many would have missed Gu Long once they came out. Aine couldn’t imagine that anyone would. It was very dark and dreary, and the people inside looked like they were slowly wilting away.
But Uncle, though, there were people like Uncle so she was doubting. Uncle was always laughing wide, and the sound was always like grating nails on a chalkboard. Before, Aine didn’t understand how those other uncles laughed along. Enjoying the liquor and snack red-faced. Uncle was strong, that was why, and he wasn’t afraid to hurt. He didn’t feel guilty either.
A greedy pig.
Even his nose was like a pig’s.
Once, she asked Big Brother Bayu if one day Uncle would turn into a pig because all he did was eat and play and sleep. Bayu laughed and said, “I wish. At least that way, he’d be useful for something!” and that became another thing Aine couldn’t say to Uncle.
Later that day, she thought that Uncle was lower than pigs. Like Bayu said, pigs had their uses, but Uncle could only roll in the mud all day and did nothing else productive. She didn’t do it intentionally, but the list kept getting longer and longer the longer she knew him.
It wasn’t only Uncle that was lower than pigs though, Aine learned that the more time she spent outside of Gu Long. There were many, many of them. Some were even worser than Uncle. She couldn’t believe it, but there were.
Unbelievable.
Her stomach grumbled.
Big Brother Bayu’s words were true after all; she kept getting lost in her own head, and now Aine was wasting time thinking about useless things again instead of getting herself lunch. Her brows furrowed. She patted her head as if to drive out the harmful thoughts.
Aine would get stupid if she kept thinking about those lower-than-pigs, Bayu said. She felt a bit mean for comparing those people to pigs.
Pigs could be very cute and useful after all.
When a restaurant had a lot of people, that meant their food was good, right? Aine couldn’t ask anyone for confirmation, but she chose to believe so, so she walked under the shade of the rundown restaurant. On a closer viewing, all the seats were taken, and the owner informed her so as well.
“If you can find an extra space someone is willing to share, young miss,” he told her apologetically. Aine nodded and said her thanks. She was feeling slightly lost, to be honest. Never in her life had she ever encountered such a situation before.
It was always home-cooked meals. Mama made them, then Aine learned to make them, after that when there was time, it would be the Mama and Aine in their small kitchen. Sometimes, Grandma Mu would join as well, even though there was hardly space. It was fun.
After she was out of Gu Long with big brother Bayu, food was given to them. And after that, when Master Blaise took them, it returned to Aine cooking the meals, and sometimes, Bayu would help her. He could only help because he was horrible at cooking. And, although rarely, Master would help as well.
There were also times when Blaise would take them out for meals, sometimes, and everything would already be ready for them by the time they got there.
Was Aine supposed to just go up to someone and disrupt their mealtime? She felt complicated. Aine always hated it when Mama’s mealtime was interrupted before Mama could even fill her stomach a little bit. It was bad because Mama needed all the food she could get. If it was Aine’s, she wouldn’t mind, but Mama worked really hard for them after all.
“I don’t mind sharing my table...if you’re okay with that.”
Aine blinked, perking up slightly. She turned to look at the kind person, bowing her head in gratitude. “Thank you very much, and I’m sorry I interrupted your mealtime.”
Mama taught her to always be thankful to people who were kind to Aine and to apologize when Aine felt that she had wronged someone. It was good manner, she said. Blaise told Aine that she had good manners as well, and he smiled while doing so.
“Ah, the seat was unoccupied anyway.” the kind person sounded caught off. “And you didn’t interrupt anything either. Don’t worry.”
Not wanting him to feel further troubled, Aine looked up at the boy in front of her. He was pretty. Almost like Mama was. He was fair, and his hair was blond, but the shade closer to Blaise’s hair than Mama’s. He looked delicate like Mama, though.
(But, not frail like her.)
She sat down and ordered her food.
(There was something familiar in the murkiness of his eyes, though.)
The small girl who stood in front of him with an elegant posture bore an uncanny resemblance to a Victorian doll, with pale hair and eyes the colour between amethyst and hydrangea.
Delicate, was his first thought.
Her fine clothing, the intricately laced and frilled top and jacquard skirt, made her so conspicuous from her surroundings, attracting significant attention.
Even her expression was truly as blank as a doll (but somewhat mellow as well, like a flower). Blank, yet not passive. It wasn’t the vacant kind of expression he was used to seeing in the jaded or indifferent. There was a deliberateness to it.
Her words and actions expressed an amount of gratitude that took him a little by surprise. Her voice wasn’t loud, even and never shifting in tone, but it carried well through the noisy chatter around them.
The way she spoke was oddly polite, but befitting of her appearance, slow and well-articulated, as if musing over her every word. A moment behind, almost. Distractedly, somewhere in between.
Her movements were all grace and fluency, self-assured and confident, full of decorum. Flawlessly so. Too flawlessly.
When she had bowed her thanks, one of her hands was delicately placed on her chest and her other nipped the fabric of her skirt as her knees gave way to a slight bend. Nothing out of place. Nothing hesitant or awkward. It all felt too proper, if Kurapika was honest, and that made him feel flustered, almost nervous, to be on the receiving end of.
Never in his life had he ever experienced anything like this before.
It wasn’t only that. The way she sat and the way she ate, held her cutlery, and took small bites, it all appeared so proper and meticulous that it made her seem exceedingly like a particularly well-crafted doll, though with no stiffness one would have expected.
And Kurapika thought; how odd.
(There was nothing wrong with her. And yet.)
Of course, he didn’t really know her, so he wasn’t trying to judge her unfairly, but there was just something about the air around her.
It was rude of him to be stealing glances like this, but a part of him unashamedly argued that it hardly was only him who was doing it, it was hard not to. Kurapika’s expression soured a little when he realized what exactly was going on in his head, and he looked away once again. He had more important things to think about. Whatever it was that nagged at him, he was sure he would forget it soon enough.
His eyes turned red. For a moment, it was like a drop of scarlet dipped into them, and like water, the color quickly dispersed again. Aine opened her mouth and closed it again. Bayu said she shouldn’t go around asking stranger questions.
Aine quietly ate her food.
“…”
Was that normal? Did some people’s eyes just change colors? She wanted to ask, but she shouldn’t. Was it the spider? Did the spider trigger something? Nobody else’s eyes turned red though. Was the boy special then? Interesting. Her fascination welled up considerably, and there was a faint buzzing inside her.
Aine was curious.
She rubbed the heat of her eyes away as she let her thoughts drowned her.
He looked at her with surprise again when they boarded the same ship. There was a visible reason for that. The people filling the ship were men. Older and ruffian-like, with grime miens and baring their muscles out as they aimed to intimidate.
Taking in those factors, the boy didn’t fit in either. There were many, many unsubtle side-eyes and snide comments cast their way as Aine and he moved. Aine was not surprised since he had stood out greatly from the atmosphere of the ship-boarders, and she barely met the age criteria.
Aine gave the boy a final nod before going her way. She maneuvered her way through the throng of people and stepped lightly onto the forecastle of the ship, where the watery sunset shone brightly and captivating, and everything was dyed orange for that moment.
Like big brother Bayu’s hair.
Slowly, as the anchor was pulled, and the ship began to set sail, Aine walked over to the bow and planted herself down onto one of the crates, hugging her clothed yanyuedao close to her.
Saskia had given it to her before Aine departed.
She said he had it made especially for her.
Thinking about it made her feel slightly hollow. Aine had never been alone for so long before, and now she would be for an indefinite amount of time.
Her eyes followed the sunset until it got swallowed by the sea and everything turned hazy under the countless stars and clear moon. It seemed endless. The world was so big, and she was easily entertained. Aine would have fun, by hook or by crook. She nodded determinedly, leaning back languidly onto the wall.
She would.
It was almost a promise.
Aine liked the sky. She liked how vast and endless it was. How the colors blended seamlessly with each other, those pretty colors so vibrant and vivid, altering with time and weather. And in the end, as if scripted, it would return to its original disposition. Calm blue and wholly untouched.
She liked looking at it, getting lost in her head when she had the time. Sometimes, Aine felt she had all the time the world had to offer, and she kept getting lost. Again, and again. Beguiled in the quiet rapture. She was easily entertained, Mama had said, and she liked that because it made Aine easy to care for.
Brother Bayu had another opinion though. He never said it, but he was afraid. In his eyes, there was a haze of apprehension when he pulled her out of her mind, it would always be there. Looking at her with shaken pupils, he would scold her for being absent-minded. Head full of clouds.
His eyes were much like the sky, but also not. It was blue, but it was rarely serene. Bayu was always agitated, to a certain extent, even when he was at his calmest. Like a small animal with his ever-drumming heart, rapid and restless, but she liked that as well.
Aine didn’t mind that. She didn’t mind the anxious beats under her ears because Bayu was alive that way. With a loud, thumping heart and uneased blue eyes, he was alive.
The roaring storm prickled her skin, howling and growling like an angry, angry beast, bringing bright lighting, and pounding thunders as it soared through the solemn grey sky. The black waves threaten to swallow them whole, battering the edges of the ship and chipping the life away bit by bit, dragging them into the raging sea.
Pelting like a cold shower, the rain blotted the empty deck onto her legs and layers-clad person. Aine hugged her knees close and leaned lazily onto her folded arms, pressing her side to the doorway as gravity pulled the intensely rocking ship.
She had never seen anything like this before. The first rumble had her heart stuttered minutely, as more followed, the thumping stilled into a cadence, and Aine was lulled into peace as she continued to stare unblinkingly at the sudden coarsening of the weather.
There was a boy running around. He was kind, running around busily as he checked on everyone underdeck, helping. He had worriedly asked her if she was okay, offering a cup of water and an herb that would supposedly help with motion sickness.
He soon ran off when she reassured him that she was fine here. Aine would offer to help him if she wasn’t so taken by the state outside. She couldn’t think to stand away from the doorway she occupied. Her skin was like gooseflesh as the cold wind cut through the open way and her hair was frizzy with the humidity.
Aine stared mindlessly into the storm, eyes drooping as the sounds mingled together into white noises at the back of her mind, slowly getting lost in her own head. She was reminded of the time in Gu Long, nuzzled nearly at the very core of the complex where there was no sunlight nor pelting rain, and only the running shower a thin wall away from her.
Mama would come home after work, late into the night, when Aine was warm and tired under their blanket as she clung to the last bit of energy while waiting for Mama. Hunching over their small table where their cold dinner lay sparse in front of her.
The door would open with a creaking even when Mama was being her most quiet. Her pretty, tired face was sad and subdued. Aine’s heart would always jump a bit. Always and always, she was always happy to see Mama. Thin body and delicate shoulders quivered when she met eyes with Aine.
Quickly, she would say hello and run into the shower. The wall was thin, and Mama’s cries were never quite as quiet as she thought. When she came back her eyes would be very red. She would smile at Aine with a wet smile and say, heartened, “Mama is very thankful to have Baby in her life.”
And she would eat the cold dinner Aine prepared, praising Aine to the moon and back, even if the food was barely edible at best. Sometimes burnt, sometimes flavorless, sometimes over seasoned. The rice was too dry, too soggy, and side dishes stalled, the chopsticks in her bony hands would keep bringing them to her mouth.
When Mama finished eating, they would quickly snuggle into the frail blanket and thin bedding. Close and warm together, Mama’s heart thumping softly, just shy of matching Aine’s. That was the only time it ever matched with hers, and not Big Brother Bayu’s.
Thinking back at it, the situation was miserable. A family with a young mother and a daughter, barely scraping by to make do. It wasn’t a dream come true, nor was it a wish fulfillment, but Aine was happy with Mama.
There was a girl.
Gon gave her one last glance and hurried along with cups of water in hand, and herbs for seasickness packed away in his pocket. He hoped he had enough. Gon walked along the narrow hallway with quick steps, there was a bounce as the sound of thunder rumbled loud in his ears.
It was always exciting when it stormed. The distinct smell of earth and rain, ozone, heavy in the air, rushed his senses and made his stomach swirl and funny. Especially now, when he had just taken off from Whale Island, heading for his big adventure.
The first step closer to his dad.
Big, Gon thought, it felt like it. A part of him had already begun to whisper of homesickness, but it wasn’t surprising, since it was the first time he would ever be away from home. He would miss Aunt Mito and Grandma, and he would miss the forest and Kon and the animals, but he was curious. So curious.
About the world. About Hunters. And his dad. Ging. Gon wanted to know, he wanted to learn about the job his dad loved so much, loved enough for him to leave his Gon behind. Gon wasn’t angry and he didn’t hold a grudge against Ging.
How could he when he had never met the man before?
“Here you go, chew on this. It’ll help make you better.”
Plainly, Gon was curious. And if he got to maybe explore the world a little bit along the way…well, he wouldn’t lie and say that the idea didn’t make his heart pound a tad quicker. Meeting Kite years ago definitely started a desire that wasn’t there before.
He couldn’t help it, that even though he was making Aunt Mito sad with his choice, he couldn’t hold back his desire. He loved, loved, loved Aunt Mito, Grandma, and Whale Island with a fuzzy warmth in his heart, but something was itching the inner part of his brain, calling for him to follow his desire.
And so, he did, and now he was here. Gon stood up from where he was crouched beside a sick man, and when he did, the ship rocked so much that everything was tumbling left and right, dragging nearly everyone and everything unchained with it.
A barrel tumbled his way and he jumped, balancing just right on it, and rolling back and forth with trained ease. It was kind of fun. Then the rocking stopped and Gon hopped down, standing still, and looked around the messy room, even the herbs couldn’t help with a storm so violent and so fast.
Most of the men were already passed out sick, with green faces and limp bodies. Some tried to stand up from the forced dogpile they had made but quickly fell into the lump of men again. Then there was a person reading peacefully on the hammock and a man sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room.
They looked interesting.
Gon thought back to the girl. It was the girl he saw when he had touched down on the ship. She was small and looked to be around his age.
He left the room. The narrow hallway was still the same, nothing shifted or changed in the sudden rocking, even the picture frames and cabinets hugged close to the walls like they had been. Gon walked and walked. He didn’t take right turns or left turns, and he stopped by the bottom of the staircase.
Looking up, the girl was still there.
She sat by the doorway to the bellow deck with her back turned towards him, and she just sat there, staring at the storm intensely, and she didn’t move, like a still heron in the river, the kind that didn’t move even when he got close, like she wasn’t waiting for something to happen, but for something to come to her. Her long hair whipped with the wind cutting into the ship, and when lightning flashed, her hair was like a fish scales glinting right before they disappeared into the water.
The stairs quietly peeved under his feet as the smell of sea and storm grew stronger.
Quiet tapping and muffled creaking came as footsteps approached Aine, and the boy’s merry voice coaxed her out of her thought. “What are you doing?” he asked, and Aine opened her eyes languidly, rolling her neck upright.
“Observing. I have never seen anything like this before.”
He sat down next to her.
“This?”
“This.”
“…Ah! The storm?”
She looked away from the sea. “Yes. The storm. It’s very new to me.”
“Is that so? What do you think of it?”
How was it?
“Violent. Unrelenting. But somehow calming.”
The waves were so big the ship soared, and it felt like her insides were jumbled around.
He hummed. “It’s usually calmer than this. You’ve been sitting here for a long time now. Do you like it? I really like the storm, you know? It feels like something exciting is about to happen.”
Aine thought over his question. “It is curious.”
The boy looked so happy, smiling brightly as their conversation continued longer than last. And he was patient as he waited for her to string the foreign words together. It was endearing that he was. Bright and honest. Vivacious. Aine had never met anyone like this before.
“You’re not from around here, right?” the boy perked. When Aine nodded, he continued, excited. “Where are you from?”
“I come from Wathhythe De Willo.”
His eyebrows knitted tightly as if in deep thought, and his arms crossed over his chest. “…I’ve never heard of it before.” he laughed, breaking his mulling, scratching the back of his head. “Where is it?”
“Begerosse Union. A bit of a way from here.”
“Ooh. What is it like?”
“Very beautiful.”
“Yeah?”
Aine nodded. “The buildings are orderly and tall with pretty colors. The flowers are fully bloomed nearly all year round, and the trees are vibrant green. The streets are clean and well-kept as well even though there is often confetti scattered around because there are always some sort of performances taking place.”
“Wow!”
“Though you will never see the stars like you can out here.”
There weren’t any stars right now as well, but there had been some hours ago.
“That still sounds amazing! Wow, wow! This is the first time I ever left Whale Island; you know? Even though it’s not my main goal, I’m super excited to see what it’s like out there!” he clutched his jacket, over where his heart was underneath his ribcage. “Hearing about where you come from makes me look even more forward to it. There are still so many things I haven’t experienced!”
Aine could understand him. There were millions of things she had never seen or heard of before, some of those things were ones she could never find herself imagining. It all was just so fascinating. Aine never felt more intrigued as she had poured herself over those supposed rare books and exotic arts Blaise loved to collect.
She looked at the boy.
His smile was in full bloom, radiating like the sun, and his honest eyes a bright, bright citrine. Unlike the sun though, Aine could look at him however long she wanted without hurting herself. She turned towards him, back to the doorframe.
“How is it like on Whale Island? Tell me?”
“…!” the boy blinked, and Aine watched as his smile somehow, seemingly illuminated even more than the moon itself. “Okay!”
The boy was a very animated person, loud with his energy and vividness. His arms waving around and his expression open as he talked. “Then Aunt Mito said that I should–"
A voice came with heavy footsteps, “Hey, yer two!”
It was the stout captain.
“Do you need something?” the boy asked.
“Come with me!” the captain said, then walked away before either of them could reply.
The boy stood up, brushing his pants lightly before offering her his hand. “Here. We’ve to be quick or he’ll get angry…Ah! We’ve talked a lot…but I still don’t know your name,” he looked at her, grinning sheepishly. She stared at him curiously. The boy was interesting, she thought. He cleared his throat, “Hi! My name’s Gon. What’s yours?”
Aine looked at the small, calloused hand in front of her. The wind was whipping her hair ceaselessly, loud in her ears, nearly enough to drown out his voice. The thunders roared and lightning flashed. The black waves were still threatening to swallow them whole; her heart was steady unlike Mama and big brother Bayu’s and her skin was still a gooseflesh.
The boy with spiky hair who smiled as bright as the sun was clad in green. He was endlessly dazzling and friendly and unlike anyone she had ever met before.
“I’m Aine,” taking his warm hand, Aine found herself smiling. “It’s nice to meet you, Gon.”
“Nice to meet you, Aine!”
Notes:
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter Text
The boy with a face nearly as pretty as Mama’s and hair as gold as Blaise’s was named Kurapika, and the tall, clean-cut man who hopped the ship with Gon was Leorio. The two of them looked remarkable compared to the rest of the room and its occupants.
It was like what Gon had described.
There was a mucid smell lingering in the air, and it was so very messy with strewn things and seasick people covering any space the dimmed room had to offer. They all seemed so miserable. It was a wonder how Kurapika managed to stay in the hammock.
Captain led them to the bridge, giving them the full view of the outside, the storm ever raging and unrelenting. Aine had never been in a bridge before, but she had seen the pictures in one of the books she had read mindlessly. Bayu called her weird for reading it. “Read something useful,” he had said, but he didn’t move away as she leaned against him either.
“Answer me; why do you lot want to be Hunter?”
The captain cut the rigid silence with an abruptness.
“Hey, don’t come questioning us like that! You’re not even an interviewer.”
Leorio was vocal about his displeasure with the question. Then, at Captain’s insistence, the situation escalated even further.
With one question, the weird atmosphere turned strained, and Leorio seemed really irritated. He went up to the captain’s face, his own sour and unreasonable. Aine couldn’t understand why he was so worked up, to the point of raising his voice so squally as to vehemently repudiate, over a question asked calmly.
Gon was good and cooperative, answering the question eagerly. “For me…it’s what my dad does, so I want to see what it’s like!” he looked at Aine then. “What about you, Aine?” he asked.
“I was talked into,” she answered honestly after a pensive second. Laik had used every right word to tempt her, not that it was much work. Aine was a naturally easy-to-entertain person. “I want to do better for Brother, and I want to see the world more. Having a Hunter License would be good for that.”
The world was so vast and so big. Aine wanted to see it, unfolding it bit by bit. One day.
Gon smiled at her.
“You kids. Don’t you see I’m still talking to his old man?”
Impatient and dogged, but Leorio didn’t seem like a bad person. Aine still didn’t understand the way he was acting though. It was just a simple question, there was no point in getting so peeved. If Leorio didn’t want to answer, that was fine with her, so why did he have a problem with others not going along with his choice?
“Isn’t it fine to just answer his question?”
“I don’t want to,” Leorio emphasized. “Never. Alright? And I never do things I don’t want to, even if means I have to fight!”
Aine blinked slowly.
“So, we shouldn’t answer him because you are not?” she surmised.
Kurapika, who had been quiet thus far, spoke coolly, “I don’t see a problem with answering if you want to, however, I do agree with Leorio.”
Leorio’s eyebrows twitched. Something bothered him, even though all Kurapika did was agree with him. Then, when he opened his mouth, he sought for respect. “Don’t act like you know me!” he bellowed heatedly, taking Kurapika’s lack of honorific for impertinence. “It’s Mr. Leorio, got it? Mister.”
“It’s easy to avert an unwanted question by offering a believable story, still, I consider that to be one of the most shameful acts. Making false statements…in my eyes, it is no different from greed itself.”
There was an edge in Kurapika’s voice, and his eyes burned sharply with unknown intransigence. As if daring for anyone to dissent. He didn’t look at anyone but the captain as he spoke, effectively, impassively disregarding Leorio’s discontent.
Red began to creep up the man’s neck. “Call me Mr. Leorio.”
And again, he went ignored.
“For that, I cannot willingly answer your question and disclose such personal information to someone I hardly know.”
Leorio’s lips were quivering, and his jaw clenched tight, grinding his teeth into a grating noise. Overtly showing his naked anger. So angry and so dogged. It was teeming. Boiling. Aine had a feeling something extreme would happen because the two were much too pig-headed to do a volte-face.
“Call me Mr. Leorio. Mr. Leorio!”
It was almost ugly.
Kurapika finally deigned Leorio the barest hint of acknowledgement, a flick of his eyes under his furrowed brows surfaced his concealed ire. Things stilted and time came to a stand. The centrepiece of the unnecessary tension was unrelenting to one another.
Aine averted her attention to the storm outside. The sky was charcoal and the waves blacker than, towering at a frightening height, shaking the ship to an extent it was a wonder any of them were still on their feet, or that the fate of capsizing had yet to befall them.
The thunders’ roars were harsh enough to feel, and the wind cold and cutting for her skin to remain a gooseflesh. The occasional bout of flashing lightning brought forth an ominous feel to the table, exacerbating the tangible hostility.
“Ger’ off my ship if yer can’t answer the question,” the captain’s gruff voice served as a knife, laced thick with parlance, robbing away whatever fog clouded their heads, and line of sights quick to turn his way. “Doncha get it? The Exam’s already begun. It started the moment yer got onta the ship.”
He extracted a certificate from his coat.
Leorio balked. “That’s from the Hunter association…!”
“It goes without sayin’ that hoards o’ people want to get their hands on the Hunter license. However, the proctors have no time to examine all o’ those people. Someone like me is therefore hired to screen the applicants. The ones who’re thrown off the ship, and the ones lyin’ around here are reported to the committee and are disqualified. Even if they go to the Exam Hall, they’re turned away.”
It made sense. After some research, Aine could see why people were so keen on throwing their lives in jeopardy for the Hunter's license. It was an event that could turn anyone’s life upside down. It was an edge short of being a miracle maker.
“It means that whether yer can take the exam or not…depends solely on me. Yer better answer my question very carefully.”
Desperate hopes or passionate dreams, it didn’t matter which was the goal, the license was akin to alcohol to flame. A nameless unknown could turn to revered somebody if they were willing to wager their life for it. A dangerous gamble.
One that Laik presented to her.
Aine didn’t exactly need the prestige or wealth that came with it, but the world was so vast and open and restricted, and there was only so far she could go with just herself and master Blaise’s card and name. To wish was to be selfish. Since little, it had cost far more than Aine could give.
But she was learning.
Humans could only continue to truly live if they held a flame in them. A drive of sorts. A wish to attain happiness of their own. Aine’s first was Mama’s happiness, but Mama was no more, so it was now her big brother's, Bayu’s happiness that she wished for.
Could it be that it was unattainable? No. that wasn’t right. It was attainable, that was why she was here. Aine loved Mama and she loved Big Brother, that was why she wished to accept every part of them that they were to bequeath to her. Anything. Everything.
It was detrimental, Blaise told her. Pernicious and malignant in its cause though the intended was the opposite, the idea that Aine was standing in front of their betterment made her felt something inexplicable. Heavy. She accepted so much that there was little for them to change, and that was that.
Because Aine was who she was, they became who they were. In the besmirched truth, Mama only had Aine, and Aine only had Mama. There was nothing else. Then Aine had Bayu as well, and Bayu had no one before her. He had Auntie Cai, but it was not in the way Aine had Mama.
Only Aine was happy. The others were sad or angry or scared, maybe all of them. She wanted them happy too. They deserved happiness, but Aine couldn’t truly make them happy, so Aine would make sure they knew that they were loved by her.
She didn’t mind Mama’s weeping outbursts. Aine would clean the floor, scrubbing until her fingers went pruned, and look after Mama as long as Mama wanted her to. She didn’t mind that she couldn’t cry, or that she had bruises. For Mama, Aine didn’t care.
Bayu could scream at her angrily, lividly, scolded her and towed on her hair all he wanted. He could push her, and her knees and palms would be scraped because she said stupid things or asked clumsy questions that hurt him. For Bayu, she didn’t mind. He didn’t do that anymore. He hadn’t for a long time now.
Blaise didn’t need Aine to be the way she was with Mama and Bayu. Blaise was so loved already that he needed no more of that. Aine was quick to love him that way, in the light and easy way that he wanted. She gave him as many performances as he wanted, and as many demands as he felt she should have.
He wanted Aine and Bayu to rely on him, the way Bayu wanted her to rely on him. Even if Bayu never would say it outrightly, Blaise had no qualm to the same shame Bayu had cast upon himself. When Blaise wanted, he simply asked.
And she would give in readily.
Laik said she was sick that way, but a lilt of amusement was there in his silvery voice when he said it. Aine remarked capriciously after, a remark that he and she knew was a passing thought, nigh an epiphany, that she might not mind Laik in the way that she did not mind them as well.
“Guhya,” Laik’s laugh had been sweet. It was the first time that an unknown word had been said. “You have a strong need to please,” he had said. After a brief silence, she nodded her head, thinking of how right he was. Aine wanted the ones she loved happy, so she did what wanted of her.
It was almost instinctive.
It was almost frightening.
(Almost. Almost.)
She went to Blaise. He would want Aine to come to him with her concerns. “Your life seems unlike yours with the way you are living, Aine.” he had said with cool eyes. His voice was throaty, rumbling under her ears pleasantly, and his hand gentle with its soothing caress.
Aine liked it when he caressed her hair.
She liked whatever they were willing to give her.
Maybe that was why she was sick. Aine loved them too much, even when she didn’t know it was even possible to love too much. It felt like a sickness. A quiet curse.
It took her no time to look past the seeming tactlessness and understand the slew of unsaid words.
“If it isn't mine, then whose is it?”
After that, Aine tried many, many times to live a life that was hers. She would live for herself because she didn’t want to be a burden to others. Then, she was here, on a pursuit of freedom fueled by the need to make a start.
Somewhere.
Somehow.
He was teeming with ardent zeal.
“I don’t fear death,” Kurapika clenched his fists, and bit out, “The only fear I have is that my anger will fade.”
Aine was greatly fascinated by those with desperate hopes and passionate dreams. Kurapika burned wholly with rancour and hatred, chipping himself away for the goal he sought. He was no less dogged than Leorio. And Leorio admitted his goal for grandeur, so he said.
“It’s money, you know? Money, money, money! Everything you can ever wish for could be in the palm of your hand with enough money! Big mansions, nice cars, even women!”
There was more. There was always more. Something personal and delicate, or he wouldn’t have been so avoidant to the question. The goal he admitted was a goal many longed for, it was very human and normal, something that shouldn’t have warranted such a strong reaction from a man who had little shame.
“Money can’t buy you class, Leorio.”
The animosity between them cast a thick haze, and everything from that point on seemed to distort and transform whatever civility and decorum a person barely their acquaintance deserved into nothing, even as a guise for politeness.
So angry and so pigheaded.
“That’s the third strike. Come! I’ll end the filthy blood of the Kurta once and for all.”
It broke.
Leorio felt like a good person, but the tactlessness and unfeeling words itched Aine the wrong way. She would hate to hear that being told to her because Mama’s blood was not filthy. Aine hated it back then, and that hadn’t changed.
“Take your words back this instance, Leorio!” Kurapika’s voice was sharp and cold, an edge so sharp it could cut with a glance, even its pretty tone couldn’t do anything to palliate the deep engagement.
“It’s Mr. Leorio.”
They marched off with fiery heat in their eyes, towards the raging storm waiting to snatch them all under with no care of their incomprehensible strife. Their willingness to throw away their goals for a momentary fervency was something Aine had never witnessed before.
“Hey! I ain’t finished with yer yet!” Captain shouted. “Wait!”
“Let them go.”
The captain stopped and looked over his shoulder, disgruntled confusion clear as day.
Gon spoke with importance. “‘If you want to get to know someone, know what makes them angry’, that’s what Aunt Mito told me. It looks to me that the reason for their anger is very important. So, don’t stop them.”
The captain sighed, then he groaned gruffly, trailing after the two with heavy steps.
“Come on, Aine.” Gon offered her a hand.
She looked at him, contemplating, “It’s storming.”
It was exciting.
“Yeah.”
It was dangerous.
Bayu wouldn’t like it.
“…if they are mature enough, they will realize they are being unduly difficult.”
Aine took his hand, and Gon laughed at her words. “They are pretty angry.”
They quickly followed behind them.
The gusts of wind were constant, so loud in her ears and cold on her skin, forming a peeve frown on her face as her hair whipped back and forth, blocking the majority of her sight. All she heard were muffled noises and the cry of the thunder.
“Katzo! Be careful, yer hear me!”
Her eyes itched– dried, and her heart pounded hotly in her ribcage. Aine squinted her eyes to get a good look at the person on the mast. A hard task it was. Everything was dark and blurry with the pelting rain and bright lightnings striking down every few seconds.
Keeping a steady footing on the deck was difficult as was, the danger of clambering a height so tall with the vicious waves attempting to swallow them was a reckless and brave thing. There was nothing much he could do, the mast needed to be fixed.
Aine began walking closer to the ledge, letting the strong wind carry her forthright. If Brother Bayu was here, he would be scolding her angrily and Blaise might give her a small, thwarted quirk of his mouth. It was really dangerous, and her heart was thumping as quickly as Bayu and Mama’s.
She wouldn’t do anything. It was just a repercussion if something bad were to happen. She borrowed the available rope lying around and tied it around the wooden post, wrapping it securely around her wrist and hand. It wouldn’t be right to let the person risking his life to fix the mast be eaten by the sea, right?
That was why Aine’s body began to move, not quite unthinking after Katzo's muted cry reached her ears, the rope tight in her hand. To be honest, Aine wasn’t even sure if she could hold his weight when the momentum was so unrelenting and everything was so wet, but she had already leaned forward with tight clutches around his ankle, her nails digging into his skin as compensation for the lack of wrapped grips.
It came to her amazement to see Gon by her side not a second after, his small hands tautened around Katzo’s other leg. It wasn’t that she could see him, but the green was hard to miss. Gon was very, very fast. The wind was harsh, and the waves made it feel as though they were flying, but it wasn’t quite enough to fight gravity as it began to pull them down into the dark sea.
Something warm got harsh enough a hold around her ankles for it to nearly burn from the friction it caused, but it was also Aine’s whole weight and a grown adult man, so it made sense. She was suspended and the motion swung them roughly into the side of the ship, her forehead bumping into Katzo’s hipbone mercilessly.
“…T- thanks for saving me– ugh!”
Leorio hunched over his knees, his necktie around his neck and his person distinctively lacking its protection. “That was really reckless of you guys!” he scolded.
Aine gathered her hair in a bundle and wrenched it like a soaked rag, until most of the seawater pooled under, then she repeated the process with the rest of her clothes. It left Aine cold and her skin gooseflesh with only her thin under-dress.
“Very reckless, indeed.” Kurapika, as opposed to Leorio, was fully clad despite his damp clothing.
She hoped her clothes would dry soon. When Aine was finished, she sat down and sidled close to Gon, the boy radiating warmth that she was missing. She hugged her knees, looking at her legs with a blank gaze. She wore a lot of layers because she didn’t want to get cold.
“If we didn’t grab you two in time, it wouldn’t just be that crewman who would be a goner!”
“But you caught us, didn’t you?”
If the weather got hot, she could just take it off, but Aine hadn’t accounted for when they got wet. She began peeling off her socks after unclasping her shoes. Looking at the sight, sometimes, Aine wondered where all the small bruises littering along her legs came from.
It went unanswered most of the time. Sometimes, a lot of times, she bumped into things, but never had Aine felt she had bumped hard enough for bruises.
Aine searched for her ointments and gauze. Blaise bought it especially for her because Aine get bruises often when she trained. They were the types that weren’t even sold in Gu Long, she hadn’t seen them in any stores either. Maybe Blaise had it made? The ones Aine used for Mama and Brother Bayu definitely didn’t feel as expensive.
Slowly, she applied the ointment, started from her knees downward, then she screwed the lid shut and switched to the other jar. It felt systematic. Orderly. Aine was terrible at it at first, she tied the bandage too loose or too tight, used too much or too little ointment, but she got really good for Mama. And Bayu too.
Her hand was throbbing hotly, it tingled just like her ankle.
“Are you even listening, Aine– whoa! What happened?” Leorio stuttered.
She looked up.
Gon was staring at her.
“You have a red spot on your forehead, Aine.”
“Oh,” Aine handed him the ointment for bruises. “Can you apply this to it, Gon?”
“Sure!”
Leorio and Kurapika moved closer to inspect the damage.
“Bayu says I bruise like a peach.”
“…Ignoring the fact that I don’t know who Bayu is…Do you have a medical condition, or are you just missing either iron or vitamins? Both?”
Blaise had called in physicians to examine her before, but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Aine shook her head, unscrewing the lid on her water bottle. “Missing nothing. I just bump into things a lot, I think.”
“You think?”
“I think.”
“There!” Gon exclaimed. “Finished.”
She thanked him, and brightly, he smiled. He was very warm. A good and kind person. Aine liked that, liked him that way.
“And your hand and wrist?” Leorio scrutinized further, tilting his head questioningly. “Rope burns?”
Aine nodded, pointing towards the knotted rope not too far from them by the post. “I was holding onto that.”
Leorio’s gaze followed. “Ahh, I see.” he looked back, “Alright, give it here.”
She placed her hand in his open palm obediently.
“Can I use this?” he held up her water bottle.
That was why she had it out. “Yes.”
Leorio moved with practiced hands and swift movements. His touches were careful and thorough, and his eyes sharp and watchful. The gauze tied neither too tight nor too loose, and her hand’s mobility wasn’t restricted.
“There. Don’t get the gauze wet, and don’t exert your hand too much. Got it?”
Aine eyed him languidly. “Yes. Thank you very much. You are very skilful, Mr. Leorio.”
He colored a little, scratching the tip of his nose. “It’s nothing, and don’t worry about the honorific. The same goes for you guys as well. Sorry for being an ass about it.” Leorio looked around, stopping on Kurapika, his expression most serious as he said, “And, Kurapika I…I take back everything I said about your folks. It was a low blow I’m really sorry.”
Kurapika smiled softly, prettily, “I should apologize for my rude action as well. I’m sorry, Leorio.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m glad it all worked out!” Gon beamed brightly.
“Yeah, yeah. But seriously though, next time, don’t throw yourself off a ship into a raging storm.”
Gon’s laughter prompted Leorio to start his scolding anew, this time a one-on-one where the other party wasn’t even remorseful nor shameful about it at all.
“Kurapika,” Aine called, and he turned to her, his hair shimmering under the sunlight. “Thank you for saving me, and I am sorry for the inconvenience I’ve caused you.” this felt like a déjà vu, a callback to their first meeting.
He blinked, shaking his head. “It’s no trouble, you wanted to save a person after all, and…I’m sorry.”
It was Aine who blinked then. She didn’t understand why he was apologizing, he saved her and that was that. Was he sorry for saving her? “Why?”
“I, ah, assume that the bruise around your ankle is because of me?” he grimaced.
It was, but she still couldn’t see the point he was trying to make. Frowning slightly, Aine placed her hands in front of him and waited. Kurapika looked confused, gingerly putting forth his hands into hers. Aine clasped them together, pulling the link up to her chest height.
“You saved me, Kurapika, thank you.”
By trial and error, Aine found that having some sort of tactility and upholding eye contact made it harder for the other party to refute whatever she was saying. It was like that with brother Bayu at the very least, and he was one of the most difficult persons she had known. He was— when they were littler.
“You’re welcome,” Kurapika’s eyes flitted, averting his gaze from her, his ears were tipped red. He and Leorio weren’t really good with compliments, she thought.
His hands were cold in hers.
Notes:
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter 4: Decision Theory and Epistemology
Chapter Text
Dolle Harbour was as busy a port as any. The moment the ship anchored, the seasick men stumbled down the rolling stairs, joining the meandering townspeople and the overzealous hopefuls. Aine could see many heading towards the big map planted conveniently within their eyes’ reach.
With revitalized energy, the men were quick to tangle-foot their way to the bus stop, even foregoing their green faces and weak limbs. Aine gave them a lingering glance before departing the ship as Gon sent her a probing look from below after his conversation with the captain. Leorio and Kurapika seemed to be having some kind of discussion not too far from them.
Gon waited for her at the bottom of the rolling stairs. “What were you looking at?”
“They recovered fast.”
It took him a few seconds to contextualize her words, smiling brightly as he said, “It’s good that they all got better!”
Aine felt he was a bundle of positive energy, bright as the sun but didn’t hurt her eyes. She gave him an ambiguous nod, unsure of how to react to his sentiment. Her eyes wandered to the two a distance in front of them. “I wonder what they are talking about.”
If she strained her ears, Aine might be able to hear them through the mingled voices of the crewmen and port dwellers surrounding them. Gon answered back. “Let’s find out,” he said, and the two of them began approaching Leorio and Kurapika.
Gon bounced closer and asked the question. After a brief exchange, Gon and she got informed the only way to Zaban City was by the bus soon to arrive. When she saw the number of muscled men by the bus stop, Aine couldn’t find herself looking forward to squishing into the vehicle and getting battered with the smell of barf and sweat and damp clothing.
Even though they weren’t something unfamiliar, her nose still found itself souring whenever the olfactory encountered such smells. The good thing was that Aine’s senses were very good at adapting, and she was certain she could wait until then. It wasn’t a very long wait after all.
“The captain told me something else though?”
Leorio made a confused noise at Gon, who looked faraway to the tall tree atop a hill as he elaborated.
They ended up divided, three to one, Leorio was sceptical of the information given by the captain, and Aine could understand why. The Captain was tasked with weeding those he found unqualified, so this might very well be another test.
It was uncertain, and so was the bus now that she thought about it, as Kurapika, Gon and her meandered out of the town and into the wilderness. Somehow, it seemed unlikely that the bus was the answer, as an alternative to the vague hints the captain had given Gon.
Head to the big cedar tree with an undetermined path to reach their destination or take the bus that would definitely bring them to their destination. Comparing the two, the latter seemed unusually simple when accounting for the fact that they wanted to lower the number of applicants reaching the Exam Site.
“It feels like a ruse.”
“What is?” Gon asked.
“The bus.”
Kurapika looked her way. “Now that you mention it…” he nodded, “It probably is.”
“Eh? How?” Gon’s head whirled between the two of them. “Really?”
“Think about it, the captain told us that they want to lower the number of applicants as much as possible, so only those that qualify would be able to take the Exam and have a chance at becoming a Hunter. It wouldn’t make sense for the means of arriving at the Exam Site to be so easy if that was the case, don’t you think?”
Aine tilted her head, “They won’t be able to find the Site.”
Not only was the number of applicants too big, but should the bus really be the correct path, would someone be waiting for them to lead them to where the Exam took place? If that were the case, then the scouts would not be serving their purpose to make things easier.
They found the disqualified ones, but it would be very time-consuming when Aine no matter thought about it.
“They would need a guide,” Kurapika continued. “But it won’t be upon their arrival. Statistically speaking, only 1 in 10,000 applicants make it to the actual Hunter Exam, and with millions of applicants, the scouting process can be seen as a preliminary selection. However, if we’ve all only had one scouting opportunity so far, it doesn’t seem like it would reduce the pool enough to align with those statistics."
In conclusion, there should, theoretically, be more preliminaries to come. Until the fat was trimmed out, and only the fine meat was left to be passed onto the kitchen.
To be guided to the Exam Site.
…Aine wondered if they would be cooking something for the Exam.
“Do you guys think I can still reach Leorio before the bus takes off?” Gon asked, raring up for a sprint.
“The bus should have taken off,” Aine answered frankly.
“Oh,” Gon’s face fell, and he stopped in his tracks even before he took off. “That’s really a bummer! I’d hoped we’d see each other again since we’re going to the same place anyway...”
Kurapika chuckled. “I don’t think you have to worry.”
She thought back to his expression before they parted ways. His rueful farewell, and slightly desperate convincing, that they might fail if they take the uncertain path. “Leorio will come around.”
Gon blinked.
“Quite literally,” Kurapika said.
Aine nodded. “I think he is lucky.”
They continued to walk, the conversation eased up and all that was left was soft silence.
“Hey! Wait up, you guys!”
Gon beamed brightly, waving his arms manically. “Leorio!”
It almost reminded her of Gu Long, the dilapidated state and seemingly empty town, but there was still too much room, the building not tall enough, not close enough, simultaneously too big, and too small. The more they ventured into the town, the louder the muffled giggles became. It sounded childlike and ghostly, like the ones she’d heard in those films.
They shuffled around them aimlessly, clustered and organized, hiding in the shadows and above, on the rooftops, observing them from a distance. Aine wondered if they were the ones who had to approach first, as none had made an explicit appearance yet.
Leorio made a comment about the eeriness of the atmosphere, his hands rubbing his arms up and down as he warily glanced around.
“It multiplied.”
Initially, when that person behind them kept himself steadfast behind them, Aine contemplated whether she should bring it up or not, but after some thinking, Gon and Kurapika had surely noticed then as well. Since both of them didn’t have any problem with it, Aine didn’t either.
Because it was a test after all. They were to use any means to pass the actual Exam to prove that they were worthy, so Aine didn’t have a definite opinion on being trail and exploited. It wouldn’t have any negative impact on her in any way.
The person had easily given their position away even before they left the town.
“Huh? What multiplied?”
Gon looked around. “There’re a lot of people.”
“What?”
Kurapika nodded in agreement, letting out a light warning, “We better keep our guard up just in case.”
Appearing fed up, Leorio clenched his fist and glared at them.
“Can you guys stop being so damn cryptic!”
It was Kurapika who first relented him a reply.
“There are breathings around us, can’t you hear them?”
“And the rustling of clothes too…”
Leorio blinked, his brows knitted, and he seemed to be straining his hearing to the best of his ability, with his free hand up to his ear to amplify the sounds. Quiet seconds passed, and his shoulders dropped defeatedly, muttering out bitterly, dryly, “Well, sorry to say that I am but an ordinary human.”
“I can’t see anything wrong with that,” Aine gave him, moving up to stand beside him.
Being ordinary was nice.
There wasn’t anything wrong with being normal, or less, or more. It was what they were born with.
Mama had cried a lot; with reddened eyes and a hoarse voice, she would weep about how she wasn’t enough. She wanted to be more, have more, do more. Her brittle nails would dig into her skin, and on some days, there would be a new mark, and sometimes, Aine didn’t know where they came from.
She didn’t like that.
Aine knew that Mama gave a lot of them to herself, but when Aine didn’t know where they were from, that meant they weren’t treated nearly as quickly as they should have been. The prickle of her skin felt like a failure, singed her sinews, and constricted her throat.
Mama would kneel in front of Aine, sometimes, her thin arms would be around Aine as firmly as they could as she whispered out wet apologies, soaking Aine’s dress and bruising her waist, and other times, Mama’s head would hang low, not meeting Aine’s eyes, Mama’s hair obscuring her face, but Aine knew she was crying again.
And always, always, it was a wretched thing. It made Aine’s head spin and her stomach sick. She couldn’t do anything. Her sight had blurred, and she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to move. Never could Aine pried Mama’s pretty, crooked fingers from her flesh, so Aine just sat down and waited with heavy pounding in her ribcage.
‘Mama is less than enough, Baby. I want to have more and give more. You’re too good for me, all too good. Mama can’t give anything back to her baby, but you still love her. I don’t deserve you. I don’t. but I can’t live without you, my Aine, and Mama’s sorry for that, but she can’t go on without you here. Mama’s selfish, Baby.’
It was like a prayer, a chant of repentance where Mama would pour all her pitiful regrets and lost sins and bigoted condemnations, damning herself into penance. One that she wouldn’t let herself struggle and she would be deep, deep into the murk. She drowned, and she let her lungs inundated with filth and her throat tore with sorrows.
(Aine never understood why Mama said that.
It was Mama who had given her life, wasn’t it?)
Mama would crumple into herself eventually until her temple was pressed very hard onto the floor and nails buried far too deep into her scalp. It was not unlike an eternity, where Aine sat and waited until her legs ached nearly as much as her heart. Aine would give the time to Mama, up until when Aine could see Mama couldn’t anymore.
Up until Mama’s cries were replaced with dry heaves and desperate retching, where her hands would quickly slither under her mouth and the content and evidence of Mama’s immense grief emptied out, dirtying her pretty self, draining whatever little left of her and leaving almost an empty husk with Aine for the night.
The stickiness inside Aine’s chest would melt away and she would reach forward, brushing the tangled hair away from Mama’s face. Slowly and tenderly, Aine would move Mama away from where she had kowtowed deeply, right into Aine’s lap, her dress wiping away the sick and sweat blemishing Mama’s skin.
“Aine loves Mama,” Aine would say and press a kiss on Mama’s reddened temple, even if Mama might not hear it. Then she would do her best to get Mama into their small bathroom and clean her up until Mama was fine again.
Then Aine would sit Mama by their table where the cold dinner lay sparse and hoped that Mama was there enough to know what to do while Aine cleaned up what had been evidence of Mama’s grief. Sometimes, when she was finished, Mama would still haven’t picked up her chopsticks, so Aine would help Mama with that as well.
Mama had known she had to chew when Aine put food in her mouth and that was good. Mama couldn’t go to bed with an empty stomach, after all, it wasn’t good for her. It would be late when Aine led Mama into their bed and laid her there. Aine would snuggle close to Mama and whisper her love for her pitiful Mama over and over until Mama was asleep.
The alarm would ring, and another day was there, and Mama would wake up with her voice nearly gone, dressed in bandages under her night clothes and nary the memory of the night before. Her brittle and delicate body would shake as they moved to get ready for the day, but no question would leave her lips at all.
When she was by the door, Aine would follow her dutifully.
“Aine loves you, Mama.”
Always and always. Aine loved Mama more than the world loved her. If only Mama could believe her. Mama made her happy already, even if she was less than enough. Mama shouldn’t be feeling like that, Aine thought.
She had to love Mama harder.
Mama needed her after all.
“Your son and daughter are abducted. You can only take one back; 1, daughter, 2, son. Which do you choose?”
The atmosphere was strained, heavy tenseness cloaked the space as Leorio seemed to boil hotter and hotter with every word coming out of the old lady’s mouth. Kurapika stood still, taut shoulders and a quiet, desperate plea in his eyes.
He met Aine’s eyes and when she gave him a nod, that seemed to relieve him, if only slightly. She looked away from him and looked at Gon, who was deep in his thought. Aine let out a breath, mind wandering about the question presented to them despite not needing an answer as the old lady counted down.
She never had a daughter nor a son, so how was she supposed to truly answer the question? Aine furrowed her brows, crossing the question away. She could play imagine. If Aine had children, a daughter, and a son, she would love them.
What with how she was, Aine would love them to the point of suffocation, love them more than the world itself, until her heart ached, and she felt hopeless. Aine had to love them, they were borne because of her, she was the one who brought them into this world.
Aine would want to make them happy, and she would love them like no one else. She couldn’t imagine otherwise. She couldn’t. If Aine couldn’t find herself loving them, why would she bring them into this world? It was wholly irresponsible if she birthed them with nought of her love.
Children are supposed to be born out of love. Weren't they? If not, then it would be empty and negligent, and sad, so sad and pitiful. Her heart itched with the thought. Brother Bayu was far from a creation of love, and he was so sad and so angry.
She hated that for him. Aine loved him and wanted him happy.
When she loved someone, she wanted them happy.
That was a given, was it not?
“Time is up.”
"...What should I do if a day like that come?" Gon said. "To choose between those who are precious to me?"
"..."
"Why should you choose now?" Aine asked, looking straight ahead into Gon’s eyes.
The soft lines of his face and his round eyes that looked back at her told her nothing in particular. He seemed to be thinking again.
"Hmm. Just," Gon blinked at her. "Well. If the time comes, wouldn't you be stuck then?"
"If the time comes, and I have to make a decision, I'll make my choice then. But right now, there isn't something like that."
"..."
"Only the questioner benefits from asking a question like this. Gon is only confusing himself."
After a while, he smiled lightly. "...Maybe you're right, Aine."
"Haah? Now, wait a second," Leorio sounded confused. "Isn’t the point of questions like this is precisely to make a decision before situations like that happen so you don't just...freeze up?"
Was it? Who was to say that the situation, if the time did come, would allow for a choice to be made? The answer to the question by the old lady was an either this person or that person, with clear cut and imposed framework. Artificial constraints. In reality, wouldn't there be many other cards at play? The people involved, the situation leading up to that, your emotions at that current moment, running high and rushing like torrent waves.
Would your head be clear enough, then, to make a rational decision?
As Gon said, there wasn't any correct answer to be given.
"...I can’t say that Leorio is wrong, Aine, Gon."
"Why can't you just say that you agree with me or that I'm right?" Leorio said with a low, slightly annoyed voice.
They all came to a halting stop.
She looked over to them.
"Leorio says that the point of making the choice beforehand is to avoid stuttering between them when it happens."
Hesitatingly, he answered, "Yeah...?"
Aine tilted her head. "How can you be certain that the person you are now will be in agreement with the person you are in the future?"
There’s no guarantee that the person she was now would be the same person when the time came.
Aine didn’t think deciding beforehand will help her avoid hesitation. If anything, it might make it worse. Because then, she wouldn’t just be choosing between two things. She would be choosing between her past decision and what she truly wanted in that moment. And if those didn’t align, she would be stuck between the two.
Really, no matter how she went about it, it just seemed very unpleasant and only made things harder.
Leorio clicked his tongue, "Just because people change doesn’t mean thinking ahead is useless. So what, you’ll just wing it? That’s reckless!"
"Do you think that I think thinking ahead is useless?" she asked.
"Don't you? It sure sounds like you do!"
"It's not, though. It's prudent to do so, I've been told," Aine said. "It's just not very clever to spear ahead with an expectation that things might hold."
"...We should get going."
(“Leorio is an impulsive person,” was the first thing Aine said after they entered the dark tunnel when thinking back to what had happened. How could he have been so quick to attack a person just because he did not like the choices he was presented with? Or was it that the grandmother’s worldview did not collide with his that sat wrongly?
He made a choking noise. “Ouch. Look- it wasn’t like I…I admit that I was a bit rash. I do regret it now with hindsight and all…”
“You are straightforward as well, though.”
A simple person who took things as they were, and had no qualms about quickly owning up to his mistakes. A good person. Aine had good feelings about those types of people, to be honest. She squeezed Gon’s hand a little bit and turned back to look at the silent boy.
She couldn’t do much because it was dark, but he looked very deep in thought.
“He is, isn’t he?” Kurapika mused along.
“Thanks…?” Leorio shifted his eyes, then looked back at them, asking, “That is a compliment, right?”
Hearing that, Aine then said, “Simple.”
“Very simple.”
“Hey!” Leorio yelled. “Back me up here, Gon!”
Gon made a startled noise from suddenly being dragged into the conversation, “Um…well…”
“Damn! Why is no one on my side in this group!”)
Notes:
TW, vomiting and implied(?) self-harm
How convoluted.
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter Text
Bayu would be angry, she thought, if he was here.
“I'm lost...”
He wasn’t, though.
Aine should pay more attention to her surroundings and stop filling her head with clouds, she told herself in a faux chiding in his stead, her eyes wandering upward.
The stars were blinking back at her, brightly and quietly. They were very visible here, she mused, how weird was it, even though they were so far away, at an unreachable height, only rocks merging, burning their lives away so beautifully, humans still found joy in them?
There were names for the stars and stories for those most prominent.
(“Did you know, my baby, your mother's favorite is–”)
Maybe even each one of them, and it was only that Aine needed to search more meticulously instead of giving a few glances at the flipping pages.
It would be tedious; a little hard.
Although she had visited the planetarium plenty of times, the actual stars were hard to see from the city that was always sleepless, where the sun never set, metaphorically.
Wathhythe De Willo seemed to be in a perpetually festive mood after all, if all the lights were to suddenly douse, then something must be very wrong, like a natural disaster, or a national incident. Something big, definitely. Aine thought the ground would have to open up underneath them before Wathhythe De Willo, Lerose as a whole, really quieted.
Just the thought of it made her feel a strong sense of displacement.
She rubbed her chest none-too-gently, her lips pursing at the tight feeling inside; it was a familiar sensation that seemed just as foreign no matter how many times she had experienced it.
In truth, “...Aine hates it,” and then, as she tied her hair up, she said, “Although not to the same degree, it is supposedly also unpleasant to be spied on like this.”
Even if she was used to stares, she thought it was still different when it was in the quiet wood when the moon was high in the sky.
At least, that was what had been said to her.
Saskia had said Aine should mind these things and she shouldn’t just ignore them.
Preparing for a take-off, she made sure that her bags was properly secured in place, lightly stretching and unfolding her yanyue dao out from its cloth.
“Subjugation…only, should be fine,” she told herself, nodding.
The extra weight of the woman on top of his own made Kurapika’s arm strained a little, and, although impressed, he had half a mind to scold Gon for his recklessness as he watched the boy disappear into the darkness before letting go of the branch he was hanging from.
Landing softly onto the ground, safely and securely, the woman weakly slumbered in his hold. Kurapika looked stilly at her, thoughts running as he pondered, frowning slightly. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“Y- yes,” she replied shakily, nodding and moving to support herself. “Thank you for saving me.”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
In fact, it felt like he hardly did anything worth noting.
Then, in a sudden, sharp movement, seeming equally anxious as she was alarmed as she had fully come to herself, the woman tensed, her eyes widened and she held up her hands clasped tightly together and asked with a panicked tone. “Can you please tell me how my husband is? He, he was hurt trying to protect me!”
Kurapika stilled. “Your husband…” he started, eyes fixed subtly upon the dichotomy, the strange detail that contradicted her words, throwing things off their course readily. “He is left with my friend. I’m sure his wounds are being treated as we speak.”
It was his voice that was saying those words, but Kurapika was hardly attentive to what was being said. Still, the woman relaxed greatly, her shoulders sagged and her hands resting limply against her chest as her gaze fell.
The blue ink was vivid even in the sparse light, he thought wryly.
“Thank the God,” she exhaled.
“...”
Kurapika kept quiet.
Thank the God, indeed, he couldn’t help but think, almost humored by it.
Almost.
“There you are.”
Kirikos were quite fast, she noted.
The ground where the kiriko had stood split underneath the harsh force of the yanyue dao, heavy and powerful, but Aine herself looked oddly weightless as she followed along, settling gracefully on her feet as she looked around.
Her hair seemed to softly glow in the stygian setting, pale as the moon and glistening like the scattered stars, falling like weightless feathers, quietly, stilly, around her.
In a way, Kurapika thought distractedly as he watched her, despite having the humanoid kiriko beside him, or the one that had made a swift escape when the chance presented, Aine had somehow looked to be the most surreal thing.
“Oh,” she said and her glasslike eyes gleamed with recognition when she saw him, although her expression remained purely porcelain. Unearthing the hilt of the yanyue dao easily from where it was buried, she fully turned towards him, blinking.
“Kurapika,” her head tilted curiously as she looked at the kiriko beside him. “And another one.”
(Another one? Was she referring to–)
“Aine,” Kurapika said, slightly puzzled, “Where have you been?”
“...I don’t know,” was her simple reply, then, “The stars are very bright.”
He blinked blankly. “...?”
It took him a moment.
The stars?
With that offhanded remark, Kurapika had to admit that throughout their whole walk until now, he had hardly looked at the sky, much less stars. But even so, here, it was dark enough that he could only see a few meters ahead, even if he were to look up now, he wouldn’t be able to verify her her claim.
So, he could only remain wordlessly baffled, not sure how to answer her spontaneous jump of the topics.
The girl in front of him had appeared as abruptly as she had disappeared when they had their backs turned, quietly, leaving them with confusion and worries, even now, there was only confusion in him as Kurapika stared at her.
“Can you tell me where my kiriko went?” she continued, unfazed by his bewildered silence.
Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if they were even hearing each other right anymore.
Unknowingly, he must have given Aine an answer as she gave him her thanks with a bow, then promptly ran past him and off again into the thicket.
"..."
“That's a spontaneous girl you got with you,” the kiriko woman said with a laugh.
That was true. She was like a whirlwind, Aine, and it went up for Kurapika that he should have informed her of his recent discovery.
Then again, it might not be needed.
“You certainly aren’t wrong,” he replied evenly.
Kurapika trusted that Aine was capable enough to recognize what was going on.
“Is this another vetting process?” she asked straightforwardly, walking close and stopping just a step away from where the end of the long, sleek helve reached.
Staring down at the slumped kiriko, its eyes narrow slits not unlike a fox, as its back slid slowly against the rough bark of the tree, a nervous rustle accompanying its uneasy movement. The long whiskers trembled, producing a sound akin to a peal of laughter laced with apprehension.
The blade of her yanyue dao glinted dully, embedded into the flecked brown bark over the kiriko’s head.
“Yes, that’s right,” came its answer in a low tone.
A male kiriko.
Nodding, Aine grasped the cool helve, pulling it out of the tree trunk, small pieces of the splintered bark onto its red fur, and the kiriko carefully stood.
“You have a good aim, young lady!” he said, cheery, almost hopeful. “Well then! Why don’t you follow me this way? The others should be ready about now, too.”
She looked at him, his height towering over her, casting a long shadow over her. Her head slightly rolled to the side, before moving up and down. “Thank you,” she said, unlooping the thick cloth from her bag. “Your senses are sharp, and your reaction time is as fast as I hoped for it to be as well.”
“Oh?” he laughed; teeth pointed and sharp, and the equally pointed and sharp claws combing through his coarse-looking fur. “Are you flattering me?”
“Mm, it’s good that they are. A sewing kit is not enough, after all, I don’t think,” she said, finishing wrapping her yanyue dao. Aine slung it over her back, where it had mostly rested since it was given to her, feeling its familiar weight as her sense of balance slightly shifted. “And I also don’t think Leorio is yet skilled enough to attach a limp back.”
“...Eh?”
“But maybe he can.”
Aine couldn’t quite claim either with certainty though, she had only known Leorio for less than a day in total insofar.
It was a good thing they needn’t find that out today, Aine thought.
For one thing, she didn’t know where he was, for another, she also didn’t quite know where she was either.
“...”
’Habits’ were hard to rid of, Aine thought, especially the unwanted ones that needed to be rid of.
Leorio pushed his hand down onto her head, moving it about roughly, her head rolling around as he continued and a few stray strands of her hair falling over her sight. “Have no one ever told you not to just wander off like that in a forest at night!”
“They tell me,” Aine told him. “I just forget sometimes.”
“...Don’t do it again, alright? It’s dangerous,” he gave her one last shake, looking at her with narrow eyes, doubtful, “...and you saying that is not reassuring at all, you know?”
“I know.”
(One time, Bayu had seriously considered getting a leash for her, seeming to have gotten utterly fed up with the emotional turmoil he was unwilling to admit he was experiencing.
Even though his pupils had dilated, a red flush on his skin and his sweaty hand immediately reached for her when they inevitably found each other again. His breathing was unnaturally heavy over her, and his chest shook almost violently as he pressed her close, his heart was quivering faster than normal.
Big brother is lying again, Aine didn’t say, clutching onto his sides, and neither did she say, he isn’t very good at it.
“Shit. Stop daydreaming, you scatterbrained idiot!” came his temper-filled, furious shout, reverberating under her ear, with quick inhale and desperate breaths, garnering the surrounding crowd’s attention readily. “Get your head out of the clouds already, seriously, is inside you only filled with air!”
“Aine is sorry, big brother,” she gave easily, quietly; a commotion inside her stirred her heart like a frenzied fit. Like a cat clawing it sharply.
It was like he hadn’t heard her, Bayu only tightened his hold, and he was no doubt frowning even deeper than her, and his eyes fiercely glaring at everything and nothing at once. “Do you want to get taken again?” he retorted, his voice lowered, but his tone was harsher than blunt concrete scraping her knees.
Aine frowned deeply.
It made her feel wholly uncomfortable when he was like this, when he tried to make it seem like he was mad at her, even though he was enraged with himself. At this point, when it was like this, he was shouting at himself, and not her.
She didn't like it.
“It’s Aine’s fault,” she tried, “She's sorry, big brother…”
"Damn it. You..." even quieter than before, just above a whisper, “...Is one time not enough for you?”
“...Aine’ll try harder," she promised, a trite and stale thing, but she made sure that it was not only empty platitudes.
Though, Aine could only wonder.
(quiet, quiet. It was quiet, but his heart was so loud–)
Bayu yanked her hair sharply, pulling her away from him and stared down at her, his expression ungiving and blank, but his blue eyes raging a biting storm. "You've said that how many times already?" he asked. "Is it still believable?"
She could only wonder if he believed her.
"It is."
She could remember every promise exchanged.
After all, the only ones who got her promises were her important people.)
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter Text
'A lousy place,' was her first impression, what with the counterfeits and cheap imitations lining the stalls, and eager vendors’ thrown flowery words piercing through the bustling crowd, crashing into each other. Aine got dragged by Gon here and to, whichever happened to catch his simple fancy.
With a bright smile and sparkling eyes, he easily let himself be impressed, and in turn, she was impressed by him. Somehow. He was easy to please, she gathered, his emotions seemed to be in the state of ‘all or nothing’ most of the time, strongly feeling everything.
Wearing his heart on his sleeves, at the tip of his tongue, over the curves of his expressions. An open book, she wanted to call him. Gon was almost like a dog. Almost, because it also didn’t feel quite right. It was just that, sometimes, he was…
“...”
She didn’t know.
There was a tap between her brows, the pad of his finger left a lingering warmth, like the slightly calloused hand around hers. It was warm; Aine thought she could feel his blood pulsing underneath his skin, spreading evenly around his palm, running hotly.
Blood was warm, she supposed, as was the inside of human bodies.
“You’re frowning,” Gon said.
Was she? Aine blinked, releasing the minute tension between her forehead. He was right. “I was thinking,” she explained, and at the look on his face, tinged with curiosity, she told him, “Gon is almost like a dog,”
“Huh,” he tilted his head but didn’t seem caught. “Why almost?”
Aine looked at him. “...I don’t know.”
“Oh…” Gon laughed then, bright in his eyes, citrine-like under the sun. “You’re funny, Aine."
The question of why found itself inside her as they came to a standstill.
They stood at the comparatively empty plaza of Zaban City, with three of of her companions staring with admiring eyes at the tall building in front of them. Aine couldn’t help wondering why they were standing in front of this building instead of their destination.
Blinking, she gave them a few seconds before she began walking again, approaching the quaint restaurant beside the tall building.
“Eh? Aine?” Gon voiced confusedly, consequently, he followed behind, quickly falling in her steps. Their hands loosely linked together still. “Where are we going?”
“The Exam Site, I assume,” she said.
“But isn’t that tall building the Exam Site?” Leorio asked.
“...?”
Aine stopped, turning around to face the three people behind her. Gon and Leorio held a confused visage each, while Kurapika seemed to come to a drawing conclusion even before she said anything.
“I don’t imagine a place so conspicuous would need the requite of a navigator?”
“The young lady is correct,” the navigator spoke with a chuckle in his voice. “Now, if you can all follow me this way.”
(As they walked, Aine stayed quiet, hearing the abashed reactions emitted around her.
“Of course,” Kurapika said, sounding almost pained. “That was naive of me. It would make sense for the Exam Site to be somewhere less pronounced as opposed to…”
Leorio let out a quiet, “Oh...”
Gon only laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.)
“He’s not expecting us to make it this year,” Kurapika plainly noted as the navigator departed and the door shut, sounding not afforded by the notion, but merely acknowledging the probable assessment based purely on statistics.
“What?” Leorio said, eyes widening, his head whirled to the entrance despite the navigator no longer being there. “That bastard, is he underestimating us? The Exam hasn’t even begun yet!”
“He isn’t,” she told him flatly, then, as a second thought, “Leorio forms quick opinions, doesn’t he?”
Before he could say anything in retort, going by his expression, Kurapika continued. “If we only look at the percentage of rookies making it on their first try, what the navigator has said isn’t far-fetch on his part,” he said cooly, “Really, us four all failing is more likely than the opposite.”
“Ugh,” Leorio groaned after a moment of silence, “Don’t jinx us before we even begin, dammit. That’s bad luck.”
Kurapika shook his head. “I’m simply evaluating our situation from an objective point of view.”
Narrowing his eyes, Leorio said, “Well, that was unnecessary of you.”
Aine felt that this disagreement was also quite unnecessary.
(In the first place, what was the purpose of this? Neither Leorio nor Kurapika spoke more, how were they supposed to reach an agreement, a middle ground of sorts, like this? They weren’t really understanding each other clearly after all.)
After a brief contemplation, she concluded that it was just how they were. The two of them were hardly alike in any aspect, Aine pondered with light interest as the tension rose quietly, whether it would be their personality, worldview, goals, and even their appearance, down to their garment.
“...”
Thinking about it now, what a curious thing it was.
“But,” Gon started, seeming untouched by the tautness between the two, there was a determined smile on his lips, excitement dancing around his eyes, wholly unconcealed. “We won’t really know unless we try, right? I want the four of us to become a Hunter together, so let’s do our best!”
What a hopeful vision.
“We won’t know unless we try...” Kurapika repeated, murmuring to himself, looking up with clear eyes and a light smile. “You’re right, Gon.”
“That’s right!” Leorio nodded, grinning brightly, “We gotta do our best and prove that navigator wrong!”
Seeing that, Aine looked at Gon and quietly applauded, impressed by his ability to ameliorate the strain so easily.
He caught her stare, and asked, “What is it? What are you clapping for?”
“You are very good,” she commended.
Gon blinked. “Eh? I don’t really understand, but thanks!”
Her eyes strayed to Leorio and Kurapika when she said, “It nearly made me feel a sense of déjà vu, even though a day has barely passed.”
They quietly wordlessly averted their eyes from her, a pinched look on their faces.
"...Oh, yeah. You're right, Aine!" Gon laughed, seeming to have caught what she was talking about. "It really does feel like it!"
(They did argue again, easier and light-hearted this time, when Gon wound up innocently asking openly, a thought he had with him since the start of the earlier argument, “Why do many people want to become a Hunter if it’s so difficult?”
It didn’t take long for the words to register in Leorio and Kurapika's minds. "Should you really be asking this right now?" Leorio asked wearily.
"Hehe..."
"Well," Kurapika started, "I'd imagine it is because–"
There seemed to be a fire of excitement in his eyes as Leorio cut in, loudly exclaiming, “Because it's the most lucrative–!”
Despite that, Kurapika didn’t back down, even raising his voice to match Leorio’s. “It’s the noblest–”
“–profession!”
They completed, glaring heated at each other before words flowed out of their mouths in rapid-fired counterarguments, in an attempt to convince Gon to see their views.
Leorio focused more on the benefits which the Hunter License brought, while Kurapika focused on the aspects that the title Hunter brought.
It was clear that Kurapika and Leorio’s strong worldview clashed heavily with one another.
Although nothing was wrong with it intrinsically, they were both very corralled, conventional, in her opinion, giving the commonplace answers to the question that was posed. At least, that was what was in line with the answers Aine had gotten from her brief research.
They talked as if the reason needed to be one and only, mutually exclusive, despite the fact that it could very well be both a place of honour and passion and a ground of income and comfort.
Moreover, it was like Leorio and Kurapika were completely ignoring the fact that neither she nor Gon fitted in one or another, but quite possibly both and more.
“You two should slow down. You’re overwhelming him,” Aine said, giving no care if they were still talking despite that being unmannerly. If she had to wait until they were finished, she would never be allowed to say anything. “and it’s getting noisy. Please quiet down.”
Their fierce glares were directed towards her at her abrupt interruption before they realized what they were doing, blinking, then quickly stopping, getting ahold of themselves.
When she was sure they would listen, Aine continued, neither too loud nor muted.
“It’s too convoluted and boxed, and your partiality is so blatantly and strongly mixed in it that it’s becoming more of an exposition to your ideology. You’re talking about human beings, not scripted characters, do you really think that it would be that easy to encapsulate grounds of reasoning into two categories?”
She blinked.
"..."
This wasn't a lesson, she remembered.
“Uh,” Leorio started, eyes wide, “...Huh.”
The elevator became as silent as a tomb.
“...Whoa,” Gon broke the quiet spell, his hands clapping slowly, but the sound was echoing, loud, in the boxed space. “Ah. So that's why...You’re very good too, Aine.”)
(For all Kurapika’s talk about how being a Hunter was to show their noblest and most ardent passion, honorable, and not something so shallow, for a purpose so lacking like Leorio’s.
Hypocritical of him, it was.
Kurapika was being a big hypocrite, Aine thought, considering his reason for wanting to become a Hunter was for the resources and accessibility it would gain him, and his end goal, although grand, ultimately wasn’t something noble at all.
When his reason, at its barest intent, could almost be seen as the furthest thing from noble and honorable.
Revenge was, she believed, one of the most egotistical acts in the world.
Though, she supposed, Kurapika himself knew that as well.)
(Another thing was, Kurapika didn't seem like the sort to get something out of it, she didn't think.
But what could she know about someone she had known for barely a handful of time?)
The man-made tunnel was much dimmed in its lighting and seemed to stretch far and wide enough to fit hundreds of people, with metal pipes lining the wall. The humidity could be felt on her skin, and it felt slightly short of oxygen. They immediately caught the eyes of the participants close by the elevator when they stepped outside.
Leorio and Kurapika made a comment about the atmosphere, and Gon completely ignored their assessment and greeted loudly out in the open, but he only received hostile glares. It wasn’t exactly the friendliest environment to be in.
They all got white badges from the green, bean-like person (was he a person? He didn’t look quite like the norm, to be honest. Aine wondered what he was). He looked round and squishy, Aine thought. “Cute,” she said as he walked away.
Gon turned around, “What is?”
“The person before.”
There was a contemplative hum, then, “What about me?” Gon smiled, pointing at himself.
Aine blinked.
He was the first person to ask her that kind of question.
Not a lot of people liked it when she complimented their appearance. Many said it seemed condescending coming from her, although not always so straightforwardly in her face kind of way. Aine didn’t quite understand why, as people quite liked it when Blaise complimented them, even though he was very beautiful.
Maybe it was because he was a man, and Aine was not. Like now. Gon was a boy, that way, maybe it didn’t feel like she was being patronizing with her words. Aine wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t mean it in the first place.
“You are cute as well, Gon.”
He beamed, and Aine unknowingly felt accomplished, making him smile like that. Did that mean he liked getting compliments? She should give them more, then, if that was the case. It made sense. So far, there hadn’t been anyone who didn’t like getting praised.
Aine liked them as well, especially when they were from Bayu and Blaise (and Mama, but Mama wasn’t, she wasn’t–). Bayu didn’t do that often though, only Blaise. Sometimes, it felt like Blaise was trying to drown her with his sweet words. Aine wouldn’t mind that, she thought, she loved him so much after all.
Her heart squeezed, and it hurt good and dulcet. Aine was happy to tell him that. Maybe that was why he liked praising her. Blaise liked to give, she had noted long since, a lot (and it wasn’t just praise, but things as well. A family could live off of how much he had spent solely on her).
(Mama and she could live comfortably without her working hours away.
Mama could have. Could have. But then, why–)
“Yay,” Gon giggled endearingly. “And you’re really, really cute, Aine!”
It didn’t come out of nowhere, but she hadn’t been expecting it either. Aine blinked. “Thank you,” she said. Nothing was new about it, and she appreciated it, nonetheless, no matter how many times she had heard it before.
Aine’s, frankly stoic, facial expression didn’t change much except for the minuscule furrow of her eyebrows. Her voice wasn’t stern, far from it actually, but it carried the same feel nevertheless, with its soft firmness and stanch answer. “I don’t want it,” she said.
It was the third time now. Kurapika decided if this continued, he would have to interfere.
“I still have some left if you’re worried about depleting my stocks,” Tompa joked flippantly, with a laugh and a wave of his hand, the other holding out a can of juice Aine’s way. She didn’t even deign a look at it, ignoring it completely after the first cursory glance.
She sighed, and then she looked at Kurapika. “I don’t like him; this uncle is very unpleasant.” she said, not a care was given regardless of the ‘him’ standing frozen right in front of her. Aine didn’t look away, eyes boring into Kurapika’s own. The color a middle ground between expensive amethysts and hydrangeas after a light rain shower.
For reasons unknown even to himself, they made him want to avert his wavering gaze away, but he couldn’t.
Thinking over the words she offered him, Kurapika didn’t know what to say back, and it seemed that Aine didn’t expect a reply, as she turned back readily, staring straight at Tompa.
“I don’t like you,” she repeated innocuously with no intended malice, as if what she had just said to Kurapika wasn’t enough already. Her voice, so soft and mellow, it seemed to have thrown Tompa off badly. Kurapika could see the dubious man’s step falter and face twitch. His façade took a momentary plunge. “You’re Janus-faced, uncle.”
“…A- a what?” Tompa fumbled.
From beside Kurapika, the same question was mumbled by the confused Leorio.
Kurapika coughed behind his fist after a quiet second, holding a chuckle at the back of his throat at the inadvertent cutthroat words of Aine. He observed without saying anything while Leorio seemed to try and make sense of what was happening as he placed his hands on Aine’s shoulders, spurring out a few placating words to her and Tompa, and Gon looked on blankly at the situation.
Aine blinked languidly, tilting her head slightly as she replied, “Janus-faced, uncle.”
“What does that mean?” Gon asked, cutting into the conversation tethering to an unintentional verbal beatdown. Gon stared at Aine then, waiting for an answer to come.
“It means two-faced,” came her answer after a brief contemplation.
Gon oohed, nodding and he was once again silent.
There was a moment of reticent.
Tompa’s fists shook, a second too late to reign in his scowl. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit rude here?” he spat out, temper flaring underneath a cracking smile, “All I have done was be nice to you guys. Is it because the nerve is getting to you? I get it. Even after so many times, I still get the jitters! And you know what they say when that happens, something sweet always helps.”
Kurapika felt a wry smile clambering its way out at the first half of the statement.
While the information they had been given free of charge was ‘nice’ of Tompa (that was why he had played along in the first place), Kurapika couldn’t think the same about the intent of the approach.
It leaked of ulterior motives, to put it simply.
Every applicant in the space had been high-strung and wary of newcomers, with very few exceptions, so it was odd of Tompa to have approached them all welcoming and smiling. Unless Tompa wanted something from this interaction, which Kurapika was sure that he did, then there was no reason for his approach other than that he was genuinely friendly.
And Kurapika highly doubted that.
The stares darting and shoddy whispers their way told him as much.
Aine seemed to have picked up the same things as him. Her gaze unwavering at the increasingly ireful air of Tompa, the corner of Tompa’s mouth twitching minutely, his smile threatening to drop. He opened his mouth to say something, telltale by the faux smile, it must have been some de-escalations, but he was swiftly cut off by Aine.
“You kept insisting I take the juice even though I said already no, which makes you even sketchier. I think everyone knows the phrase ‘don’t accept things from strangers’,” she paused and frowned slightly before she continued. “My ears work fine as well, uncle, the whispering isn't subtle. Uncle, do you enjoy doing bad things to others? Do you perhaps derive pleasure from needlessly doing distasteful things to others? You do it enough to get the epithet 'Rookie Crusher' after all.”
It was a wonder how she managed to stare straight into someone’s face without her eyes shining malice or her voice hinting at anything other than light curiosity as she delivered those words, when she had, in a non-subtle, roundabout way, all but called Tompa debauch to his warped face.
Kurapika coughed into his fist once again.
In fact, the tone she was talking in now was very similar to the tone she had used to lecture him and Leorio in the elevator a few minutes ago.
The underlying shock still lingered within him, if Kurapika was honest, it was the most she had said since they had met, the most engaging and assertive she had been, stunning both him, as well as Leorio and Gon, into a reticence.
“From what I have gathered, you have been doing this for years on end now, have you not? Do you find it so enjoyable to crush someone’s light that you choose to throw your could-be grand future away for the cause? Partaking in life-threatening activities to actively go out of your way to ruin a person’s life is very dedicated of you, uncle. You could turn to be like that shūshu who was lesser than a pig if you keep up. Ah, but unlike him…oh. your face is turning ugly, uncle.”
This time, evident but short laughter was startled out of Kurapika, a snort almost. When he tried to reign it in, he ended up in a light coughing fit behind his hand instead as he watched Tompa’s color visibly shifting between paling aghast and reddened in anger, incorrigible sounds spluttered out before he harrumphed and turned heels.
Gon softly patted Kurapika’s back, and when Kurapika’s coughing slowly eased out, he turned to thank Gon. The boy smiled brightly, then ambled along to Aine who was watching indolently at the retreating back of the stout man, pulling her minutely into an animated conversation that had absolutely nothing to do with what had just transpired.
Kurapika looked to his left, at the muted Leorio with an agape mouth and wide eyes, gesturing wildly towards the scene. ‘Did you see what just happened? Again?’ he seemed to say, blinking rapidly as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
And when Leorio had gathered enough wit to communicate with words, "So I wasn't hallucinating from being too frustrated and angered by you..." an ear-piercing alarm rang out, loud and big, shocking everyone into tensed stillness.
Soon, a man’s voice followed up as the ringing cleared out.
“The Exam will begin shortly.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter Text
There was a boy. His mop of white and pale skin and small statue stood out starkly in the crowd, the sound of the skateboard’s wheels against concrete and kicked pebbles distinct in Aine’s ears when compared to the footsteps that sounded in tune with hundreds of others.
He came closer and closer, but it wasn’t him who started the interaction. Tired and galled, with a sense of brazenness, Leorio lashed out at the boy’s amenity. Aine thought it was bizarre, how quickly Leorio was to flare out, explode, without actual animosity.
And Gon, good and nice and honest, chimed into the boy’s defense. “Mr. Satotz had only said to follow him,” reminded Gon, to which Leorio complained irritably back, voice loud, and Aine wondered if he should be wasting his breath yelling instead of conserving it.
“You are being careless, Leorio,” Aine said.
“What?”
“The principle is that there is no principle.” Kurapika agreed with her and unsympathetically said, “We don’t know how long we’re going to run for. With that said, your yelling is just noisy and a waste of breath, Leorio. It's annoying.”
“…Why do you guys always gang up on me?” Leorio asked, dismayed and fuming, but it was more a statement than it was a question. Aine could see reasons he would be the target, if only for his quick temper and easy disposition.
Aine never had anyone like that in her life before. Mama was much too sad and anxious, Bayu held those things tight as a vice around him and gave back twice as acrid, Blaise was too indifferent, dense, to get a reaction from, and Laik never really acknowledged anything like that, letting them slide off like water.
“I’m not, though.”
In the first place, Aine was never the type to tease or mock anyone consciously. Though her mouth was loose and her tongue clumsy, so Bayu forbade her a lot from saying things. They would get her in trouble, he had said, big troubles, but not in those exact words, ruder and more hard-hearted, and Aine remembered Mama saying similar thing before as well, in her own meek and mawkish way.
“Neither am I.”
Grumbling, Leorio gave them stink-eyes. “It sure doesn’t seem like it.”
Kurapika sighed, “Think of it however you will.”
“Coincidence do exist, Leorio.”
“Look. There is it again! Actually, it hurts more when you’re doing it subconsciously!”
Aine thought that if Kurapika was any less the person that he was, he would have rolled his eyes as he remarked, “Do you always have to be so melodramatic?”
“Yes! No! I’m not melodramatic!”
She turned away, frowning. “Loud…”
“Can you please stop being so noisy?”
“Argh! Damn it, you guys!”
The boy with white hair slowed down, stopping beside Gon. “Are they always like this?” he asked, and Aine only heard it because she was paying attention.
Kurapika and Leorio was still bantering, but it was very one-sided as Kurapika had already seemed to be ignoring Leorio.
“Sometimes!” Gon laughed.
The boy hummed, eyeing them for a second, then Gon, before saying, “How old are you?”
“Almost 12!”
“I see…”
He dismounted his skateboard with ease, flipping it into his waiting arm (much to Gon’s bright eyed awe), before looking at her with something like a small expectation on his bored face. It was barely there.
A passing interest.
For what?
“Oh! Aine has already turned 12,” Gon said before she could fully comprehend what Killua was after.
The boy hummed again, then he introduced himself, “I’m Killua.”
“I’m Gon, and that’s Aine.”
“And the blondie and uncle?”
Kurapika glanced back, his eyebrows furrowed, at the epithet maybe, and Leorio exploded metaphorically, though with how red he was, it was also close to literally. His screech of anger collided with Gon’s nervous presentation of the two. Aine thought it was because Gon had already predicted Leorio’s reaction.
“I’m around the same age as you guys, dammit!”
There was a weird pause.
“…there was a better lie you could come up with, uncle,” Killua told him.
With something like pity in his eyes, Gon simply said, “Leorio…”
“Do you mean Kurapika?”
For something like age, Aine was certain he was closer to Kurapika than the three of them. There was some teasing about it, but honestly, Leorio looked to be at the start of adulthood, and Kurapika not a few years behind. A year or two, perhaps three.
She hadn’t meant anything bad when she had said that, but it seemed Leorio took it the wrong way.
“Haven’t you learned to respect your elders!?”
“Hah! You said it yourself! ‘Elder’!”
“It was only a figure of speech, but I supposed a brat who still smells of milk wouldn’t know that!”
“What did you say, old man!”
Gon awkwardly laughed, stuck in the middle of the two, before conciliating, or attempting, at the very least. “Calm- calm down, you two.”
Kurapika deftly left the conversation, appearing to want to tug Aine along with him, as though they didn’t know the three beside him but were only collateral damages, and Aine simply listened.
To think that they had just met.
Aine wondered how long they were going to run for. By now, they were surely out of the town already. Where were they headed to, anyway? It had been around seven hours, and she had somehow lost the others to the crowd, but that was mostly her fault.
Her body was small, and she easily weaved through the throng of bodies, the other couldn’t (maybe Gon and Killua, but they hadn’t been lost in their own heads like she had), and so they were separated. The good thing was that they were all to stop at the same place, so they would meet again.
The stairs were tedious, she thought, and they seemed endless, but what awaited at the end made her kind of curious.
Aine felt that the other may not share the same sentiment, their laboured pants said otherwise. Except for those noises, it was very quiet, nobody talked, the small and heavy sounds came with their tiredness, and the smell of sweat and dampness wasn’t nice.
It was good luck Aine had broken out from the crowd, the front was desolately thin of people, and the examiner was forefront as he had been since the start. Satotz didn’t look tired at all, despite taking multiple steps at a time, he looked like he was on a walk.
Was it because he was tall and had long legs that he made it seem so effortless? Or was it because he was a Hunter? That seemed like a silly answer if she was honest, to consider being able to walk up the stairs effortlessly.
An amusing thought to entertain, as that would mean if she made Hunter, Aine would be able to do the same.
That couldn’t be though, her legs were not nearly as long as his, and neither was her height. Leaping would help, maybe. It could, but that would make her tired faster because she would be exerting more energy. When Aine thought about stuff like this, she could feel the phantom tugging of her hair, and Bayu’s cold, fussy voice in the back of her mind.
It never stopped her from wandering anyway, it made her missed him though. He should be back in about three months' time, for a one-week break, before returning to his studies again. Aine thought he must have felt lonely, despite how much he would protest otherwise.
She hoped he made a good friend there, one that would stick with him even when he had his bouts of fits every once in a while. Bayu was soft at heart after all, and he wouldn’t survive well alone. Thinking again, maybe that was because of her.
Bayu needn’t learn to be alone because she always gave in to his wills and unsaid pleas, staying with him not minding his less-than-stellar qualities. He had learned better, of course, Blaise wouldn’t have it otherwise, but Bayu could have been much better if Aine wasn’t so relenting.
Though it was easier said than done, when she loved him so much that it ached (it only doubled when Mama wasn’t there for Aine to give her heavy, heavy affection), it made it hard for Aine to be harsh with him even with all his faults.
(She was very–)
Aine could list all his faults for him if he asked, list them in full, for she knew all of them, but she would still love him no less than she did anyway. That was how it was. She knew and she was willing to accept with no needed condition.
“There she is! Aine!”
She craned her neck and saw Gon quickly approaching, Killua not too far behind. Oddly enough, it was just the two of them. “Gon,” she said. “Killua. Where are Kurapika and Leorio?” Aine asked when they fell in line with her.
“Don’t know,” Killua answered.
“Ah,” she said, “I see.”
Killua gave her a weird look.
Leorio was fatigued last she saw him, and Kurapika was beginning to get tired as well. On the other hand, the two boys were hardly out of breath at all, it made some picture when comparing them with the men panting heavily not too far behind.
“You suddenly disappeared again, Aine. We were worried, you know?” Gon pouted.
She frowned. It wasn’t because of Gon’s words, but from knowing that she had worried them, apparently. Aine hadn’t thought of that, they had just met after all, but Gon seemed quick to form emotional bonds with people. She should have known that.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
Bayu had told her plenty (numerous, countless–) of times how he hated Aine for getting lost so much, metaphorically and physically, the phantom tugging and pinching could still be felt from time to time because of how much they occurred.
Aine fiddled with the red cord around her wrist.
(She missed Big Brother. )
It didn’t only happen with Bayu, but Blaise as well. She had never gotten lost when she was with him though, because he didn't need trials and errors, and simply learned from observing how Bayu behaved when they were on their outings.
Blaise and Aine’s hands were always stuck together when they were out since neither of them minded it.
“Eh? No, no. Don't feel bad! I was just worried about you.”
He was very good. Genuinely. To everyone, and that meant to her as well. Aine heart felt a bit warmer. “...thank you for worrying about me.” she liked good people. It wasn’t surprising, as she felt it was a fairly normal trait to have.
Gon blinked and smiled. “You’re welcome!” he said brightly.
Mama said to surround herself with good people.
“I will try to be more careful from now on.”
The hackneyed sentence slipped out unthinkingly, but she still meant it. If Bayu was here, he would have given her an angry glare, not trusting that Aine wouldn’t repeat the same thing again. He was right not to trust her too much.
There were some procedures taken to wane his unadmitted fear.
(It had happened several times after all. She swore she had gotten better; it was just that she was alone now, so she let herself wander without thinking. Nobody was here for her to really concern herself with.)
“Okay. Me too, then.” he nodded gravely, but his bright smile never left either. “I'll look out so that you don’t get lost!”
Killua gave them an indiscernible stare.
“You guys are weird.”
“...”
“We are?” Gon asked guilelessly, taking no offence to the comment.
Killua stared at them some more, but his reply was immediate. “Yeah,” he didn’t seem to be trying to offend them either, merely just stating his opinion. “Anyway, how long do you think this is gonna go on for?”
The subject changed just like that.
“It should end soon,” Aine answered.
“We have been running for some time now,” Gon spied Killua’s countenance and asked, “Are you not having fun, Killua?”
He hadn’t as much glance at the proctor before he answered, “No, not really. It might be because my expectations were too high, all I feel right now is a letdown. Ah, really, I heard it was extremely hard, but so far, it doesn’t feel like it.”
“I think it’s pretty fun though, don’t you too, Aine?”
“It’s novel.”
“You two are such optimists.”
Aine thought that over and wasn’t sure if she could agree. While it was true for Gon, she didn’t think the description fit her all that well. But maybe she was. Aine didn’t know. A person’s judgement of themselves could be askew sometimes.
“You have a lot of opinions,” she told him.
Killua shrugged. “Everyone does, they just too much of a wuss to voice them.”
He didn’t sound condescending, and he didn’t sound like he was bragging either. It just seemed that it was a fact for him.
Maybe it was.
Brother Bayu told Aine she was stupid for saying everything on her mind, that was why it was better when she didn’t say anything at all if she didn’t have anything even a little bit substantial to say. That stemmed from the fear of the consequences that could follow.
Anyhow, Aine could neither agree nor disagree with Killua.
The three of them chattered on as they clambered along the staircase.
The fog lay thickly onto the swamp ground, it made it hard to see with very little smattering of visibility, but it was simultaneously better and worser than the tunnel they had finally emerged from. It smelled wet and of rotten eggs, and the air was ardent.
Still, it was fresher than the muggy heat and sweaty odor.
“Who won?” Aine asked.
“Me!”
“I did.”
She didn’t get an answer.
The boys looked at each other, skeptic and pouty before they went on bout of insistence that they were the ones who had won. Now, she wondered. Aine hadn’t been there or close enough to see who passed the shutter first, so she couldn’t clear or confirm anything. There was someone else who was though.
Aine looked at the proctor, who seemed to be slightly bewildered and nonplussed at the situation and asked him the deciding question. “Who won, mister?”
They all looked at him expectantly.
“The two of them had arrived at the same time.”
It was somewhat anticlimactic, as it had elicited a drawled, “Ehh,” from both Gon and Killua. It mixed with disappointment and something else, like they were regarding something new and unknown, and they considered each other with level eyes.
Gon sprung up, “I have an idea!”
As it was, no one was getting a free meal, despite Gon’s suggestion that they treat one another. She wasn’t sure why she was included when she hadn’t been a part of the race. Killua brought up the fact as well, but that didn’t seem to deter Gon in the slightest.
So, they continued arguing, with Aine observing quietly, until Kurapika and Leorio stumbled upon the fray, tired and amused. Truth be told, they arrived just before she got the chance to tell the two boys that she didn’t mind buying them both a meal since the discussion didn’t seem to be settling in any minute.
The bet was left forgotten minutely, and the shutter clamped down in the despairing face of the participants a second too slow to crawl across the finish line. Some said that it was brutal, but it hadn’t been very sympathetic in her ears.
Satotz was quick to introduce them to the second half of the first phase while the participants were gathering their bearings. The name ‘Swindler’s Swamp’ was looming and set uneasiness in a lot of people’s hearts, but it was fitting also when Aine kept on listening to the proctor’s words.
All of the things that resided within the swamp was out to get them, Aine surmised, so be very careful. Bayu would be very mad, maybe even livid, if he knew, and she found herself slightly hesitating. It wouldn’t be just him either, although he wouldn’t veto her decision, Blaise would definitely frown upon it.
(He knew she was here, of course, he signed the consent form after all, but he wasn’t really happy with it. Even then, because Blaise was so kind and indulgent, he said yes anyway, and despite the dangers, he trusted that Aine was capable enough.
But he didn’t like it. She knew Blaise wouldn’t refuse her even though he knew that he could, and she would have listened to him with no objections on her tongue. She loved him much more than that after all.
She was very selfish when she went to him with her request–)
Aine wasn’t sure if she liked that. She wrung her fingers as she felt her insides churn, and it was only because she was now focusing on it. It had been like this since she left on the ship, watching as the port of the pretty city disappeared into the distance.
But she was doing this for the good of herself (for Bayu. Them being too dependent was bad for him), and there were no takebacks now. Aine wanted Bayu to be happy, and it wouldn’t do to be how they were. How she was.
And...and she wanted to see a lot of things as well.
“...”
She felt that she was endlessly selfish.
Aine didn’t understand how anyone could think her selfless.
There was a tap on her shoulder. “Are you alright, Aine?” it was Kurapika who asked, his face that levelled in front of Aine’s was that of a concerned one, veneered with a thin sheen of sweat, his eyebrows were slightly pressed and eyes raking for something from her.
She thought his question over, and the only thing in her mind now was, “I allowed myself stupid thoughts again.”
Aine shouldn’t do that, she would get stupid as well. (She knew that she wouldn’t, but that was what Bayu often said.)
Kurapika seemed confused and opened his mouth to say something, but he was quickly interrupted by the hoarse, loud shouting from an injured and tattered man stumbling painedly out of the fog. “Don’t trust that man!” the crooked, accusing finger was pointed towards Satotz.
The unknown man looked seconds away from falling over and dying and thereafter feasted on by the lurking, prying beasts, but that didn’t deter accusations from slipping out, and he was haplessly desperate to gain trust from them as quiet tumult ensued.
“He’s lying to you all!” he raved, eyes blown wide and bloodshot and fixed in a vehement glare, and his face was bloated badly. “He’s trying to lure you into a trap!” he seemed crazed, to be honest, pairing it with his appearance, if it was anywhere else, there would already be some officers holding him down so that he didn’t do anything inane.
“He’s not the real proctor, I am! Look at this!”
It was a pathetic display of something that played out in front of her. Aine didn’t know how he thought to lie to them when his appearance was a much sorry excuse of a Hunter when he was blatantly saying that he had fallen into a trap laid by something that was supposed to be nothing more than a minor inconvenience for the likes he claimed to be.
An ape that took the face of a human, a Man-faced Ape, Aine regarded with mild interest. She had never heard of it before, much less seen it. The body was hairy, and its limbs were gangly, much longer than its torso, and its head bore a very vague resemblance to Satotz’s, but not nearly enough for anyone to actually mistake it for him.
Surely, it could mimic better, given the one that had dragged it all the way here seemed plenty human enough to deceive a lot of the participants if Aine was observing correctly. Why didn’t it, then? Instead, if the Man-face Ape was the argument and evidence he was providing, couldn’t that allegation also be turned against him?
It was the unknown man who appeared out of nowhere, so it was him who was suspicious, and not the proctor that had been with them since the start. Naturally, she would trust Satotz to be the real proctor and not the self-proclaimed one who had supposedly fallen for the lure assembled by one of the weaker creatures in the swamp when it was one of the things he should have known and be cautioned about.
Aine didn’t understand.
How was what he was saying a compelling argument for his case when it had also fit him perfectly? In the first place, didn’t all the people associate with the Hunter Exam have the certificate? The captain certainly did, and he was just tasked with weeding them out. If not, then they should have the license.
Would the unknown man then claim they were stolen? That would fit in with the narrative he was playing on–
“Aine?”
She looked up, looking at Gon and the rest.
Oh…
The unknown man was dead, playing cards burrowed deep in his blotted face, and Hisoka and the participants were getting indirectly reprimanded by Satotz, but for different reasons.
Aine didn’t know cards could be that sharp.
(They had a weird feeling to them. She wondered why.)
“What is it?” she asked.
Gon poked her between her eyebrows. “You were frowning,” he tilted his head, “Why?”
“I was thinking.”
“Oh. About what?”
“How compelling his argument was.”
He blinked. “The man’s?”
Aine nodded. “The man’s.”
“I see!” Gon nodded back, “And? How compelling was it?”
“Not very much since his situation could be used to describe ours as well. I think it would have been very stupid to trust him blindly after he told us what had happened to him.”
“...That is true,” Kurapika said after a light cough, it sounded like a chuckle. “It would have been stupid.”
“There they go again...” Leorio muttered under his breath. “And they have the gall to say that they aren’t doing it on purpose.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Leorio.”
“I didn’t,” Aine paused. “And it wasn’t only you, Leorio. Oh. Hm…since many had begun to trust him, that meant his argument was more compelling than I previously thought, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, come on!”
“Hey, Gon– huh? Where did he go?”
Gon wasn’t anywhere in sight, but Killua was right beside her, so it wasn’t Aine who got lost this time. Then again, she couldn’t really say he got lost when he had intentionally parted ways with them.
“He went back for Leorio and Kurapika,” she said, “I think. He seemed really worried about them.”
“...is that guy an idiot or something?”
Killua sounded mystified.
“Or something,” Aine gave, “He's a good friend.”
“Does that mean you are not?”
“Being a good friend and being asinine are not mutually inclusive.”
Frankly, she couldn’t see the benefit of her going back when chances were that she would get lost and end up finding no one. There was nothing she could do about Hisoka either. And Hisoka was everybody’s main concern.
They would persevere, somehow, Aine felt that they would. She had a good gut feeling, so she chose to believe in that. Also, Gon had very keen senses, so he might be able to make his way back to them again when he found Leorio and Kurapika.
It would be quite inhumanly though, if he was actually able to, given that the thick fog and the wet, rotten egg smell would have doused a lot of sight and scents.
“What about you, Killua?”
“What about me?”
“Are you not going back?”
“...No. Why would I?” he countered after brief seconds. “Besides, Hiso...” he trailed off. Aine turned to look at him. Killua had a complicated look on his face. She wondered if it was because he didn’t want to admit to being weaker than Hisoka. She didn’t think it was that. Afraid, maybe. “Never mind.”
She nodded and looked back at the hazy purple-suited back of Satotz.
They didn’t talk anymore after that.
Notes:
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter Text
The fog barely cleared, and the air was still slightly cold, but there was no longer the smell of sulfur, and the screams had dimmed out since they had reached the glade in front of the giant gate. Satotz had announced that the resting period would be until the gate opened, that was when the second phase would begin, and the new proctor would be introduced.
Participants lingered around, some resting and others exploring the parameters. Aine and Killua didn’t talk more necessary, but they didn’t stray far from each other either. Primarily, she just sat with her back against a tree trunk and alternated between watching the grey sky and Killua rolling around on his skateboard aimlessly.
She thought he was very good at it, as he moved around doing flips and tricks. Aine had seen some people using skateboards in the passing when she visited the town, but she never had the time to really observe them closely as she did now.
“Killua,” Aine called, and he didn’t stop, but he cast a glance for her to know she had his attention, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “How long have you been skateboarding?”
“Some years now, four maybe?” Killua answered after a moment, “Why?”
Aine nodded. “I wondered. You are very skilled at it.”
“Oh,” he paused, scratching his tinted cheek awkwardly. “Thanks...I guess.”
It seemed Killua was unused to compliments. He avoided eye contact and kept on rolling around until he came to a decision, closing in the distance and offered, “If you let me see what’s wrapped inside that cloth, I’ll let you try the skateboard once.”
She blinked at the suddenness, but she didn’t refuse. “Alright,” Aine said, removing the cloth meticulously from around the yanyue dao, the peak of the head gleamed slightly in the meagre light.
Killua wasn’t wrong in that she was interested in his skateboard after all, and Aine didn’t see why she couldn’t satiate his curiosity. “So, it was a polearm,” there was an excited spark in his eyes as he bent down his knees to get a closer look, “Cool. Can I try holding it?”
She thought it over. Saskia said not to handle weapons lightly, it was dangerous and could injure someone if not treated correctly after all. It was one of the first things she had told Aine, with serious eyes trained on her–
“...”
Aine's eyes latched onto Hisoka ambling from among the thicket with Leorio hanging limply from his shoulder.
“Maybe later,” was her answer.
They huddled in front of the slumbering Leorio, looking at him with varying degrees of interest. “It seems they’ve fought.” Leorio looked like he had willingly rammed himself face-first into a tree with how much his face swelled up, a blooming green beneath the yellow.
He was punched hard enough to render him unconscious after all…or that was what she assumed was what happened.
“Yeah,” Killua said idly, his index finger pressing onto the contusion meanly, causing Leorio to wince from time to time. “He won’t even wake up no matter how hard I poke at the bruise.”
Aine tugged on Killua’s shirt. “It’s already bad enough as is,” she said, unclasping her bag. “And he’ll wake up eventually,” she took out an ointment jar and began applying it neatly onto Leorio’s tender bruise. “Killua?”
“What?”
“Do you think he has a concussion?”
“He could,” Killua answered, “It looks like the punch was hard enough for a one-hit KO. An uppercut, probably.”
The discoloration was especially prominent on Leorio’s jaw.
“Probably,” Aine agreed. She had checked for bumps on Leorio’s scalp and found none, but she still remarked, “He could have also fallen very hard.” they didn’t know how long it had been since the altercation took place after all.
“Yeah, he could’ve.”
They sat in silence.
It could have been called stilted and awkward if Aine thought it was, but she didn’t, so it was just quiet and peaceful, and Killua seemed too apathetic for something this small, so none of them had any problem with the atmosphere.
She wondered if the other two were alive. Aine didn’t think that Hisoka killed them, but she could never be too sure. She wasn’t there. But Leorio was still alive and somewhat well, so Aine couldn’t see why he would leave one alive and not the others.
…It could be one of his moods.
Hisoka did seem a little weird, but maybe that was an understatement. He was definitely an interesting individual. Aine really hoped he hadn’t killed Gon and Kurapika though; her heart clenched slightly at the thought.
The reason that those two were taking so long could be that they couldn’t find their way here. Aine nodded to herself, which was very plausible. Then, another question popped up. How did Hisoka find his way back here? Was he working with someone? Was there some sort of marking for the path she hadn’t seen on their way?
“Aine! Killua!”
She blinked and turned to see Gon (his smile was a very bright thing) and Kurapika approaching.
“Gon!” Killua called back, waving.
“Oh,” Aine said. “…Good.”
He turned to look at her, “What is?”
“They aren’t dead,” she clarified, it seemed like a redundant observation when said people were making their way towards them, but he asked. “That's good. I was getting worried.”
Killua snorted.
“It’s a wonder they even found their way here.”
The woman with top knots and a racy attire introduced herself as Menchi and the round-faced man in the yellow shirt who was times bigger than Menchi and all of the participants was Buhara. They were both Gourmet Hunter and Aine worried slightly since she wasn’t sure how their standards were compared to the teachers Blaise haired for her.
She thought it was a normal thing to worry about, even with furrowed brows on her face that warranted a poke from Gon once again. It was revealed that they had to cook for them after a very long and unnecessary commotion.
(A very stupid, gratuitous mockery for a profession that still had the ‘Hunter’ label they all coveted attached to at the end of it that inspired nothing but insipid aggression from one-half of the people that would determine their impending outcome with merely one word.
(It didn’t sit right with Aine that they were making fun of another’s profession when the people themselves looked to take pride in it. Wasn't it better than what the majority of them could achieve in their sad lives anyway? Aine was sure more than half wouldn’t be passing the Exam; they were just lowering the number even more by insulting their proctors.)
She couldn’t understand them, but she had never met a group of such unruly people before. Not against an individual of authority at the very least. Gu Long didn’t have an official authority figure, and the academy operated with iron-clad rules and heavy punishments.
No one in the academy was quite stupid enough to challenge that.
…Well. None that she knew of.
Aine wondered if they were trying to fail themselves before the test even began. In fact, she even asked Kurapika, who happened to be standing the closest to her, that. He answered her with a slightly bewildered look (even more than that when she began rummaging through the cooking station’s cabinets), then a wry bent of his lips.
What Aine had gathered from that was that they might be big idiots. The lot of them.
Kurapika looked amused at that. She thought it was because the statement could have included Leorio as well.)
“Do you guys know how to cook?” Gon asked in the midst of their hunt for pigs.
“No,” came the immediate reply of Killua.
“I don’t got time for that,” Leorio grumbled.
And, surprisingly, Kurapika’s reply was that of a similar kind. “Neither do I,” he said.
She felt slightly perplexed at their answers. Even if they had someone to cook for them, they should at least know the rudimentary, and if they lived alone (which Aine knew for a fact that Leorio and Kurapika did), they should, following common sense, know how to cook some simple dishes that was somewhat edible.
Maybe they did.
In the first place, what qualified as ‘know how to cook’?
For Aine, she felt that even with soggy rice and bland, thinned soup, that was enough to call cooking. Were they something she wanted to give to Mama or Bayu or Blaise? If she could choose, then no, but cooking food was to fill an empty, gurgling stomach, and cooking good food was for even more than that.
After all, she would rather give something than nothing at all, instead of otherwise, just because she was too picky to be satisfied with the subpar taste. It was different now, but that was how it was before. When it was just Aine and Mama and no one else.
But what did she know? Maybe they were more unfortunate than she was. In the end, Aine didn’t know a lot of things. She only had her own extremes to compare to another. It could have been worse, and it could have been better for them, but Aine wouldn’t be asking them that.
“I have been taught how to,” she answered. “And you, Gon? You help your Aunt Mito around the kitchen sometimes, right?”
Gon nodded, “Yeah, I do! I can make simple–”
Before she knew it, the top of his head had already disappeared from their sight, “dishes!”
“Gon!” Killua shouted, alarmed.
They had stumbled upon a grassy slope.
“...Let’s pay better attention to our surroundings from now on,” Kurapika advised.
They followed Gon soon after.
Aine was a little hesitant to slide down the slope, not wanting to get her clothes dirty (the thought made her a little uncomfortable, as it went against things that had been drilled into her head by her tutor and the academy. Just a little though), but she ended up doing it anyway, going after Killua.
It looked fun, and it was fun, though Aine was unsure whether the same could still be said when she hammered full body onto Killua’s unsuspecting back while riding the inertia of the momentum she was descending with.
Killua squawked loudly at the impact before he began yelling at Gon who had stilled completely. He was cut short when Kurapika joined them at the end of the slope, knocking right into Aine for the second time when Leorio arrived with a squawk as well (it was a good thing Aine had enough a mind to swiftly remove her yanyue dao before. It would have been painful for Kurapika otherwise).
Kurapika winced. “I’m sorry, Aine.” he offered hurriedly, “You are not hurt, are you?”
“I’m not.” Aine answered automatically, “Are you?”
“No.”
In hindsight, it might have not been the most careful way to do it. Why were they going down in a straight line when there was so much space anyway?
Aine carefully touched her throbbing chin, then voiced her question blankly, “Why did we do that?”
Taking her meaning wrong, Killua said, “Well, it looked fun.”
“It was fun.” she nodded once, before looking around. There was a whisp of pink in her peripheral vision, so she focused on that. Aine waited for a few seconds, then she blinked in slight disbelief and keen fascination at the drove of big and round pigs.
“Yeah, right up until this idiot decided to do a full-on body block!”
Gon still hadn’t said anything.
She hadn’t looked away yet. “Can somebody move?” Aine asked when she was sure she was much too stuck to do anything, much less maneuver herself out.
And, in a non-sequitur to her question, Gon said vacantly, “...pigs.”
“Pigs?” Leorio echoed.
Seeing what they were chewing on, she felt a sense of displacement.
In theory, Aine knew pigs were omnivorous creatures (though these looked to be more carnivorous than any) and seemed to eat anything as long as it was available, but with their cute, pink colour and round body– the dichotomy between that and the white bones in their maw and congealed burgundy crusting around it made somewhat an impact.
Aine felt like she had seen them before. “They seem very fierce,” she commented.
“Seem? They are fierce!” Leorio exclaimed, sounding anxious and incredulous, “They are munching on bones, Aine!” Aine thought he made some wild gestures, moving around with his body, as she could feel Kurapika pressing closer.
“Quiet down, Leorio. You're yelling in my ears,” Kurapika scolded. “With how loud you are, you’ll alert them of our presence...”
As it was, Kurapika was too late with his warning. The small, beady eyes of the drove all fixed upon them as their snouts flared up, aggression and bellicosity clearer than the air. When their hooves scuffed the juniper floor, Killua and Kurapika, who was caging her, began to tense, but she was sure the two other reacted in the same manner.
Aine asked again, one last time, “Can somebody move?” but they had already dislodged themselves from each other and she was already tugged along.
While she took too long eyeing hard at the pigs (she had seen them before, she was sure), Leorio had already thrown her over his shoulder and made a run for it. Her hands tightened on the clothed handle of her yanyue dao. He sure was quite strong.
Right when she was questioning why, she got a very good look at the drove of pigs hunting them with vigour, kicking a storm of dust in their wake.
“I remember now.”
“Remember what!?” Leorio huffed.
“Please let me down,” she requested, “Why did you do that anyway?”
“Well, I didn’t want you to become pig feed! Sorry for that!”
He set her down and she began running too.
“Oh, thank you,” she patted his back, “Those pigs are called Great Stamp, Leorio, and their weakness is their forehead.”
Aine remembered seeing them in a book before.
To think she would get to see them in real life one day, what a coincidence. They were very hard to take down because not a lot of things fazed them, and the easiest way was to aim for their weakness.
At the same time that she had relayed the knowledge to Leorio, the others had also discovered the Great Stamps’ weakness as well. The yanyue dao remained clothed, but Aine gripped it tight, leaping up into the air and bonking the pink and round pig square on its big forehead, its squeal cut short at the impact, and it faltered on its stubby legs.
She stared at the round pig, deeply pensive, then at her surroundings. Aine recalled hearing running water nearby, it should be some sort of stream, and the stuff she found in the cabinets. She nodded and made her decision, grabbing the big snout of Great Stamp and began dragging it with her.
“Hey, Aine,” Leorio called, a smile on his face, “Thanks for the info!”
Aine blinked, then smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 9: Chop-chop-chop, Stir-stir-stir
Notes:
Disclaimer, I don't know how to butcher, or cook. Enjoy :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Aine didn’t really have the necessary tools for this, but she would have to make do with what she had at hand, namely, the set of kitchen knives, the rope that she apparently had, and the somewhat sizable sheet and gloves she had napped from the cooking station.
(It was apparent that the person who had packed the bag for her knew Aine well enough.)
Gathering her hair into a bun and equipping the glove, she adjusted the pig’s position. The body of the pig was plump and meaty, but the skin was tough.
“Thank you,” Aine said before starting.
She positioned the knife to its neck, and pressed down, severing the jugular vein swiftly, but she didn’t pull the knife out yet, pressing even harder until she reached the spinal cord, twisting the knife, blood that tickled out before began pouring down like a violent stream.
Letting out a breathy sigh, she pulled the knife out and flipped the pig onto its back. Since the stubby legs had been tied beforehand with the make-shift gambrel through its hooves, the rope looping around the tree branch close to the river, the other end tied into an adjustable knot to a tree stump close by. Aine untied it and began pulling, successfully stringing up the pig.
Then she waited, sitting down on the stump as she watched the running river.
When the bleeding stopped, she stood up, standing in front of the carcass and looking at the knife in her hand. Deciding that the knife was good enough, she began from the pig’s hamstring, piercing the blade in, dragging it down along the pig’s belly carefully.
It was a lot bigger than any of the animals she had worked with before, so it took some time, peeling until it was stripped free of its tough skin. Aine rolled her shoulders and stretched out the kinks before moving on to the next part.
She tossed those behind her and worked the knife under just the muscle, starting from the sternum along the center line to the groin. The belly was carefully slit open, and nothing inside was punctured.
(So red.)
"..."
Nearly finished.
The smell of roasted pig (and only the smell of roasted pig) wafted through the air when she returned. Some were so terribly burnt Aine didn’t know how the person cooking it let it get so charred in the first place. It was a wonder. The faces of most of the participants were crestfallen and embittered, and she thought of how humiliating it must have been to brag so much only to fail so badly.
Aine could only wonder.
She surveyed the area and walked to an unoccupied station. She placed the pig on the counter, the giant, meaty carcass spilling over the edges, and taking nearly all the space available. There was so much meat she could only worry if there would be big enough a pan, but it was only a thought that lingered no more than a split second as she pulled open a cabinet that held all the cookware, where she remembered seeing a pan so large it made her wonder when it would ever be in use under the second phase introduction.
That little mystery was quickly solved as well as the pile of bones only grew taller and taller beside Buhara.
It was a thing that was thought ahead, it seemed.
She placed the dark pan on the stove, flicking the fire alive and adding nearly half a bottle of oil into the pan, she continued to pull out more things out of the cabinets– a pot, the cutting board, and fresh vegetables, ingredients, that was washed and diced aptly. Her hands were cold when she moved on to dicing the Great Stamp's meat, then tossed it into the heated pan after seasoning it.
The pot, filled with water, went onto the stove as well.
This felt homely, she thought, though it had been some time since she last cooked. Aine wondered how Bayu was faring, worried about his eating habits, (she tried teaching him simple dishes, and eve tried roping him into her lessons as well– none succeeded) but didn’t worry as much about Blaise because he had someone to cook for him and he was responsible.
Aine balanced between peeling the potatoes and stirring the meat, doing said tasks mindlessly as she watched failure after failure being presented to Menchi, Buhara said the contrary though deeming every dish he had met with a satisfied "Pass!". Once Aine removed the browned diced pork from the pan and fed the now-empty pan with butter and onion, she dropped the blocks of potato into the boiling water, sprinkle generously with salt.
Menchi cursed out again, loudly, yelling the pale-faced man in front of her, leaving him weakly stumbling away.
When the onion turned golden brown, Aine added white wine, where she stirred and waited until it evaporate, before then adding the viscous cranberry and thick mustard.
There was a yell again, and this time, she looked up, stirring in wait for the mixture to combine.
It was much like new cooks presenting their dishes to the sous chef, then getting sent back because it wasn’t good enough. It felt theatrical, like a dramatized kitchen contest she once saw playing on a screen.
Aine lowered the heat when it was to a boil, letting it simmer calmly, then added the lentils.
She waited.
A yell again, but this time, it wasn’t directed at someone unknown, but Leorio. Menchi's anger had reached a new level, it seemed, as Leorio’s poor attempt at being creative was tossed aside very quickly.
When the sauce thickened, Aine added seasoning and the pork back into the pan. She looked up again. Now it was Gon, who had upped the antics. The flowers were cute, but she didn't think it would be agreeable with Menchi's fine palate. That was proven rather quickly to be right.
Aine drained the boiled potatoes and transferred them to a bowl, then mashed them after she sprinkled salt and pepper, minced garlic and butter, pouring in the cream and milk. She turned off the stove and began plating, heaving a contented sigh when it was fully finished, and taste-tested.
There was still enough for more serving, Aine nodded, she should eat some when she returned. It was time for lunch, anyhow.
Then she wondered as she place the spoon down, her brows furrowing slightly, watching another thrown plate flew into the air.
Before any of them went up and served it, did they not taste their dish at all?
"..."
Enough said, she began making her way, passing a defeating Kurapika on her way, but he seemed too depressed to notice her, mumbling something about Leorio.
A quiet tightness settled in her stomach as she stood in front of Menchi and Buhara, placing the two plates down on the table and waiting.
Because, despite the many blackened pigs, everyone got a pass from Buhara, and a fail from Menchi, so Aine could only decide that she really didn't know the criteria for a pass.
Menchi made a noise. “Oh,” she said, leaning from her seat to get a better look, then sighed, “Finally, something actually presentable!”
“Smells really good!” Buhara said.
“Looking palatable is only half of the job though, we’ll have to see about the taste.”
Menchi took up the silverware, taking every bit into the bite, while Buhara opted to swallow the whole content in one swift gulp. Buhara’s eyes sparkled, but they didn’t say much when they had been every time he had food in his mouth, “Delicious!” he exclaimed and held up the blue-circle sign.
Menchi cocked her head to the side.
She didn’t say anything, quietly looking Aine up and down in an indiscernible way, and Aine was quiet as well, finger fiddling with the braided cord tied to her wrist, the polished stone grazing her finger was both warm and cold. Then, Menchi smiled, holding up the same sign as Buhara.
“I really thought my tongue would rot by the end of this, so it’s nice to have someone prove me wrong. This might be nitpicking, but the meat could use a few seconds more, and a bit more seasoning would have been nice as well,” she rattled off. “Good job, little one.”
Aine nodded. She would do better next time. “Thank you,” she bowed. It was the same thing she always said to her teachers and tutor. She gathered the empty plates (Buhara had eaten Menchi’s share while she was talking) and walked back to her station.
“Aine!” Gon waved wildly, his smile vivacious and very bright as he approached her. “Hey!”
“Gon.”
“You passed!” he said, stopping in front of her, “Congrats!”
“Thank you,” she looked at him, feeling complicated, but her mouth was tactless, so she said, “You didn’t. How are you?”
“Well, it’s a bummer but...” he hummed, closing his eyes with his arms crossed, and tilted his head slightly to the side, then he opened them again, his smile still beaming, “There’s always next year!”
Aine felt herself nodding along, agreeing with him readily. “Yes, there is. But I don’t think you have to wait that long.”
Gon blinked, “Why?”
“It’s only the second phase,” she said, “I can’t be the only one that passes, and Ms. Menchi was mad because the other provoked her, so her decisions might have been impaired."
“But you passed though, so she couldn’t have been too angry.”
“That’s because I didn’t just make roasted pork, I suppose. Ms. Menchi seems like someone who takes cooking very seriously, and I do as well. It’s what I have been taught,” Aine shook her head, “but I can’t be sure. Let's go join the other.”
Gon wasn’t angry or took offense with her words at all, he only said, “Okay!” and took her free arm as they walked, and he cheerfully talked about anything and everything. The closer they got to the others, the more noticeable was the gloomy cloud above Kurapika’s head.
Leorio looked affronted at him, “Is it so bad to be like me, huh?!”
“Do you want the truth?” Killua asked.
“What’s that supposed to mean!”
“Why are you even asking? Is it not obvious?”
“You are such an insufferable brat–”
“Say that again, old man!”
“I will!” Leorio mocked, enunciating every single word very clearly, entirely trying to aggravate Killua further, “You are an insufferable brat.”
Kurapika sighed deeply (Aine had a feeling it wasn’t the first, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last), and it may be because he was compared to someone who was picking a fight with a preteen boy. When she made her way to stand in front of him while Gon was attempting to diffuse the situation, Kurapika greeted her weakly, “Aine.”
“You seem aggrieved,” she said.
He blinked before smiling delicately, the air slightly lightened, “Do I?”
“Yes,” Aine nodded. She heard from Gon it was because he was told he was no better than Leorio. Though, was it that surprising? It shouldn’t have been. Not when the faults were so glaring it could poke many holes in them.
The task at hand looked to be impossible after some people had decided to anger the woman (a Gourmet Hunter who, much obviously, held an zealous passion for culinary arts) they were supposed to, more or less, appease with their dish by insulting her profession. Her temper wasn’t very good either.
Leorio and Kurapika both had the common trait of having no experience in cooking after all, the results from the two of them ought to be similar, especially when all of them had shared some sort of tacit understanding and single-mindedly chosen to simply roast their pig.
Aine started, “The taste holds equal importance to the appearance.”
“...Mm.”
“Sticking a skewer through the pig and rolling it over fire is not very creative, given that you are meant to impress someone like Ms. Menchi, who is irked and very unimpressed with us.” she said, looking him in the eye, “It isn’t that roasted pig can’t be delicious, because it can, and I can see why you choose to make it. It seems like a very simple dish, isn’t it?”
“...Mm.”
“But all of you somehow messed it up, so it can’t be very simple now, can it?”
Kurapika appeared to be struck by metaphorical arrows, one after another but didn’t say anything to refute her words, looking slightly ashamed. The lurkers who had finished their business were standing and listening in shamelessly, and she looked at them, wanting them to know her words were directed at them as well.
(Not that they were directed at Kurapika much in the first place.)
“Anyway, you are inexperienced, so you are more likely to fail, maybe horribly, on your first attempt,” she concluded candidly. "And you did, as made apparent."
It had been on her mind since the start of the second phase. It made her very uncomfortable to hear someone talked down and mocked other mindlessly when they hardly had a clue on whatever they were blathering about.
“Cooking may seem easy, but cooking good is very hard, don’t talk down on the art when you haven’t nearly spent as much time on it. Our proctors being Gourmets Hunters do not make them any less a Hunter. They took the Exam like us, and they had passed, and are with enough prestige to become the proctors for our Hunter Exam.”
She took a breath.
“It’s very stupid and ignorant to mock them when we can’t even measure up to a fraction of their accomplishments.”
Halfway through her talk, Kurapika seemed to have realized it wasn’t directed at him but the people around them, so he had only nodded along amicably. The men who were angry or disagreeing with her words couldn’t do much, as it was them, who were stretching their ears where they didn’t belong, though most at least had enough decency to look ashamed of themselves.
“That’s right,” Kurapika said with a volume slightly louder now but not enough to be obvious, and he decidedly did not give even a glance behind him. “It would be extremely ignorant and foolish to do so.”
They looked at each other and nodded, coming to an understanding. Now that Aine had vented, her heart felt lighter, and the two of them went to join the other.
Gon had managed to successfully stop Leorio and Killua from their wrangling, and she had managed successfully to dispel the gloomy cloud around Kurapika. Gon met her eyes and gave her a light smile at their accomplishment before joining in the conversation.
Looking at them, Aine thought back to the big pan of creamy pork and lentils she had made, sitting innocently and cooling back at her station. There was no way she would be able to finish all of it, but she made that much because she didn’t want to waste the Great Stamp’s meat and the ingredients used.
Her head swayed lightly back and forth in contemplation.
Leorio took notice of her and said, “What’s wrong, Aine?”
“...Do you guys have any appetite?” she asked.
(“Mn! This is–!” Leorio’s eyes widened comically, thoroughly chewing before continuing his sentence approvingly. “...super delicious! Did you really make this? No wonder you passed!” he didn’t wait to finish, shoveling more food into his mouth at an incredible speed.
“Of course, she did,” Killua said. “Where would it come from if she didn’t?”
“Leorio’s right, Aine, this is very delicious,” Kurapika complimented warmly, then shifted his tone quickly afterwards. “Also, don’t talk with your mouth full, Leorio, it’s impolite.”
Leorio made an offended noise but didn’t say anything back, giving the two of them the stink eye. Throughout it all, Aine felt slightly more settled, somewhat. She wasn’t anxious or something of the kind, but the feeling of displacement had been pervading since the figure of Blaise disappeared from her sight.
“Thanks for the food!” Gon said beside her. True to his words, his plate was cleaned off, and he had a satisfied face. “It’s really tasty, Aine! Maybe even better than Aunt– ah...” he trailed off, a nervous grin pulled his lips, “Don’t tell her I said that.”
Aine wasn’t sure when the opportunity to tell her would come but she promised him anyway. “I won’t,” she said with a nod. “And thank you for the compliments.”
Before they could reply, Buhara's loud voice sounded, catching everybody’s attention. “I’m full!” he patted his distended stomach, content.
“What a coincidence, I am as well.”
Menchi uncrossed her legs and stood up, moving closer to the edge of the staircase. She was bottled with dissatisfaction as opposed to Buhara, but she didn’t seem disappointed like she had already predicted how it was going to end.
With a lackadaisical nonchalance, Menchi waved them off, “You know what that means. The second phase is complete, all of you failed,” she paused, “except the little girl over there. You all can head home now. Shoo-shoo.”
As might be expected, there was an outrage, and as Aine could only care just a little less, she continued eating. She blinked, looking blithely towards the sky (blue, it was blue again). Aine wondered how Bayu was doing with his study.
Although her knowledge of the subject was very limited, the law was hard to study for. She had seen the amount of homework he took home with him last time and took a sneak peek. She complimented Brother Bayu for working so hard and he looked at her like he wanted to blush but held himself back with a scowl and reddened ears.
Her Big Brother Bayu was very cute. Even if he had grown all tall and handsome now, he would always be cute. Every time she told him that, Aine always received an annoyed tug on her hair, but that only successfully made him cuter.
Of course, she made sure the fact was known to him.
Bayu only tugged harder.
Overhead, somewhat far into the distance, her eyes caught onto the blimp appearing out of the white clouds, but her attention wasn’t on it for long because something big and blurry flashed by her, and it was one of the condescending participants from the beginning of the phase.
Aine blinked.
He had flown very far.)
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 10: Sweet as Flowers, Pretty as Rock Candies
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The blimp delivered the chairman of the Hunter Association to them (as she thought, the exam couldn’t go on with only one participant when it was only the second phase–), and after that took them to Split Mountain.
Aine looked at the white and round egg in Menchi’s hand. The woman had jumped down the crevice and rode the updraft upward again (her senses must be very good to time that so perfectly. As expected of a veteran Hunter), but she didn’t look ruffled at all as she began to explain the task of their redo of the second phase.
“...Dream Egg.”
Gon turned to look at her (Aine didn’t know when he was beside her when he had been at the front of the group since the beginning) and quietly, he said, “Dream Egg?”
They were delicious, she recalled as she mulled in thoughts, placing a hand on her abdomen. Aine concluded blankly, “I don’t have much more room in my stomach.” if they were going to retrieve it, then naturally, they were going to eat it as well.
“Does it taste good?”
She could eat it even if her stomach was already partially full, but then she was going to give herself a bad stomach ache. Aine didn’t like wasting food. In the first place, did she still have to do the task when she had been given a pass? Plunging into the ravine was risky, and with so many people too, would the web be able to support their accumulative weight?
“Mm.”
No matter how she went about it, it was dangerous.
Though, she could just not wait for the updraft and simply scaled up. Was the mountain scalable? Any mountain was scalable if one was skilled enough, but Aine wasn’t sure if she was. She could use her yanyue dao as something.
Maybe a foothold…
“Do you want it?”
Did she even want to take the yanyue dao with her if she were to jump?
“I don't. Does Gon want it? It tastes good.”
Gon took her hand, and he sounded like he was smiling when he said, “Then, let’s go get it anyway!”
“Ah,” she said.
“Isn't it very exciting? And since you say the egg tastes good, it must be true! I want to try it as well!”
In the end, if she couldn’t eat all of it, then she would just have to give it to someone else. It tasted good, so there was bound to be someone who wanted more. And if the updraft took too long, she would just try her hand at scaling the mountain.
She looked at Gon who was smiling as she thought he would be. “Alright,” she said, and not even a moment later Aine was dragged along, running through the hesitant participants towards the cliff edge where the raring and eager people were.
Aine had a question. Several questions. How was it that the web of the Spider Eagle that was strong enough to stick to the ravine and had not loosened itself yet even with the addition of several dozens’ weight was still not enough to stop people from plummeting to their untimely death?
Theoretically speaking, shouldn’t the skin of their palms be peeled off before they manage to do so? Or even their arms, shouldn’t they have detached from their torso first? Was there some kind of component in the wed fluid that made it so that the stickiness changed depending on the surface it was attached to? Was it the sweat? Human skin?
Because if Aine wanted to, she could easily let go of the thick and sticky web with no difficulty at all. At first, she didn’t think it would work like that but when she saw some people fell easily off, she tried to loosen her fingers and it worked without resistance.
Even right now, the web that was threatening to snap was slowly thinning from the middle and not the ends that were latched onto the ravine. There wasn’t an answer to any of the questions (not if she didn’t really want to know anyway), but it didn’t bother her terribly much.
With some luck, she had landed to the side, and it looked like the cliff was scalable, so if she really needed to, she should be able to climb up just fine. To be honest, it was a bit exciting like Gon had said it would be, but it might be the adrenaline from the danger (even though her heart was thumping its normal rhythm).
Once in a short while, Aine couldn’t help but think it would have been much easier to snatch an egg and climb up instead of waiting for the irregularly timed updrafts.
A number of people didn’t have the mental fortitude to brave the unknown, despite the fact that they had somehow also willingly jumped down themselves, and had quickly given in to the stress.
She could understand. Somewhat. Aine wouldn’t say she was weak mentally, if anything, it was quite the opposite. Many had told her much anyway, so she would believe it was true. Maybe this was the so-called sheep mindset. Or maybe not, because Aine thought that she had a strong mental fortitude as well.
It could also be that it wasn’t that her mental fortitude was strong, but that everyone else was weak. That would mean that Aine was normal, right? Being normal was great as well, but she was also content with what she had right now as well.
Aine felt that as long as she had the people she loved and proper living applications for their livelihood (even the bare minimum was fine, she thought, Aine was happy with Mama and Bayu in Gu Long after all, even though they were miserable), she could live happily.
Wasn't that low maintenance? However, if one were to look at the stuff back at home, it might not seem like it, but Master Blaise liked it when she was slightly demanding because he liked to indulge terribly much, and Aine liked to indulge him, so they successfully made a cycle.
Objectively speaking, it could have gone very bad, if not for the fact that Bayu was stubborn and liked being independent (he didn’t ask for a lot of things, anything, unless it was very necessary–) and Aine knew the limits.
Maybe it was because they were so unfathomably rich, but the Ruiz had an askew sense of money. That was definitely the case for Blaise, Ashleigh and their grandfather (though she had only met him no more times than the digits on her one hand).
…Aine had digressed terribly.
There was a scream, and a hazy blur of a man left her sight not long after the shouting of him not wanting to place his trust in some puny kid echoed. Would it be appropriate to say another one bit the dust? The updraft was certainly taking its time though, they had been hanging there for some time now.
(Like meat hanging to dry on a meat rack.)
Maybe if it took long enough, her hunger would return for her to be able to consume the whole egg, no matter how unlikely that sounded. The spider eagle egg was quite big when compared to a normal-sized one, nearly the size of her face.
Aine thought that hanging like this would eventually be taxing on her body–
“Now!”
...she probably wouldn’t be able to finish the egg.
“I can’t finish it,” she mumbled with furrowed brows, hands clutching onto the half-eaten egg, and she felt slightly bloated. It wasn’t a good feeling, but at least she didn’t feel like throwing up. If only Aine was at home, she could have saved it for later.
“You know,” Leorio smacked his lips as he gobbled down the last of his boiled egg. “I’ve been wondering. Aine, you speak some foreign words when you mumble to yourself sometimes, what language is it?”
“Yes,” Kurapika nodded, “I must admit, I am curious as well. From what I’ve heard, it’s at least two different languages.”
Leorio blinked. “Really?”
She stared hard at the egg in her hands, then recalled seeing Gon give away half of his to one of the participants that had made that was sent flying by Buhara. Aine looked up, focusing on the question.
“Kurapika’s right,” she said, nodding. Behind Kurapika and Leorio, Gon and Killua were standing around and talking. “One is Xinese, and the other is Lerosian.”
Leorio whistled, “Nice going.”
“So, the Common Tongue is your third?” Kurapika said.
“Mm.”
“You are very fluent despite that, Aine.”
“...Thank you.”
Considering that she had only learned the Common Language but never really used it before she took off from Wathhythe de Willo, she wouldn’t be as fluent as when she spoke Lerosian. She couldn't say that she had spoken much of the language despite it being universal.
(It hadn’t really been her focus since she never thought she would be leaving after all.)
The two of them seemed to genuinely think so though.
She switched to holding the egg with one hand and opened her bag, taking out the clear jar filled with small and cute star-shaped candies.
“What are you guys talking about?” came Gon’s curious voice.
Kurapika greeted, “Gon.”
Unscrewing the lid open, she reached in for one and got a pretty orange konpeito, but they were all very pretty and she liked every one of them and had no favorite. Maybe it wouldn’t be the same for the others. Aine had already taken two more out before she could ask though.
Aine was finished but she couldn’t close the lid now. Her hands were full.
“We were just asking Aine how many languages she knows,” Leorio answered.
“Oh,” Gon said, “Three, right?”
She stared at the boiled egg.
“You knew?”
“Mm! She told me when we were on our way to Dolle Harbor. There’s also one more she wanted to learn, but she can’t right now because she doesn’t know the name of the language.”
“She wants to learn a language she doesn’t...know the name of?”
Nodding to herself, she looked up and called out, “Gon.”
Gon’s eyes met her instantly. “What is it?”
“Here,” Aine said, offering him the boiled egg. “Do you want this?”
He took it. “Thanks,” he said, grinning slightly, “You couldn’t eat it all after all.”
“I’m full,” she nodded.
“What?” Leorio sighed, “If you couldn’t eat anymore, you could’ve just given it to me, Aine, I still have room in my stomach.”
Aine shook her head. “Gon gave half of his away.”
“He did?” Leorio looked at Gon who nodded and explained. “Well, if that’s the case...it can’t be helped.”
Kurapika gave Leorio a look (there was something undoubtedly slightly exasperated about it) but didn’t say anything, and Leorio was none the wiser.
“Hold your hand out, please,” Aine requested.
Leorio blinked confusedly before gingerly doing as she asked.
Aine nodded, satisfied, then placed a green konpeito in his open palm. “Here you go. You can have this instead.”
He pinched the candy between his fingers and took a close look, “What is it?”
“Rock candy,” she said, but she wasn’t looking at him anymore. “Here, Kurapika, you can have one as well.”
“Apple,” Leorio hummed. “Sweet.”
“Ah, me too?” Kurapika said, and he sounded slightly confused as well, just like Leorio did.
“Mm.”
He smiled softly, “Thank you, then.”
“Aine, what about me?” Gon leaned into Aine’s side, his puppy eyes were very cute. He seemed to be finish with the boiled egg. “Can I have some too? Please?”
“Okay,” she told him.
“Yay!” he cheered. “Two, please! I want to give one to Killua too.”
“Okay.”
Leorio slumped heavily against the wall and Kurapika followed suit a second later. “I’m out, I'm out. I don’t have any more energy to move around,” Leorio said, waving his hand limply, his eyes already closing. “You kids go play by yourselves...”
Aine could see that all the stress and anticipation had calmed down for him now and he was severely out of fuel. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, because she and her peers also looked like that whenever their practice sessions ended.
(And she also felt the same when she had lessons with Saskia.)
Gon nodded. “Kurapika?”
She wondered how Saskia was doing. Has the baby come out yet? Saskia’s stomach was very round and distended, to the point that it was visible in her walk, so she couldn’t be as hands-on with Aine in their lessons anymore.
Aine wasn’t sure if she should feel lucky for that.
It was rumored to be triplets, and Aine knew it was true because she asked the woman herself, much to the joy of Hugh and Saskia (they always wanted children, they did, even though none of them ever expressed that loudly).
“Sorry,” Kurapika sighed ruefully, leaning back onto the wall after unslinging his bag. “I think I’m going to have to pass as well.”
Aine hoped it was a safe birthing. The two of them were looking immensely forward to it after all. By the time she went home, Aine might be greeted with three small faces, (and possibly a very, very angry big brother).
“Come on, Gon!” Killua urged from the doorway.
“Yeah, okay! Wait a minute!” Gon quickly turned to look at Aine. “What about you, Aine?”
“I want to find an empty room,” she said. “It would be nice if it’s big.”
“A big, empty room...?” he tilted his head. “Why?”
“Gon!”
Gon pouted, turning to look at Killua over his shoulder. “Jeez, Killua, wait a minute!”
“You have already said that!”
“And it hasn’t been a minute!”
“I don’t want to let up,” Aine answered, but it sounded like a question more than a statement. Gon turned to look at her again. While her answer remained true, that hadn’t wholly the reason either, but she couldn’t answer fully because Aine didn’t really know why.
At home, she practised every day, for different things. Things that would hold her interest in a tight grip, tight enough that Laik often teased her for being very obsessive. Blaise and Saskia commented that it was like Aine lived and breathed in them, the things that had her interest.
(“Be moderate about it,” Saskia advised. “No one wants you to injure yourself, the only reason we are not stopping you is because we trust that you will be able to judge what is and is not harmful for yourself, Aine.”)
It was only because she felt like it. It was natural. That was how she always was. She liked it, that was why she wanted to be good at it. She liked it, so it deserved her attention and full effort.
“You can go now,” Aine said, “Killua is very impatient."
It hadn’t even occurred to her that Gon might not understand what she was talking about before she dismissed him.
Jess navigated the narrow corridors of the blimp, a small smile playing on her lips as she made her way to the supply closet, knowing her shift was about to end. Her footsteps echoed softly against the metal floor, the hum of the engines providing a soothing backdrop to her thoughts.
Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with a young girl. Small and dainty, dressed in white and lavender, soft frills and pretty ruffles, and a floral embroidered skirt.
Her eyes were large and drooping, long lashes draping over them from where Jess stood, and her mouth small with petal-pink lips.
“Hello,” the girl said, voice even and very fitting, and her expression stoic and unchanging.
Jess felt her heart missing a beat.
The girl was like a life-size porcelain doll with her clothing and delicate features, even down to her demeanor.
“Hello, little girl,” it was an honest surprise that a response got out coherently. She placed her hands on her knees, bending down to meet the glasslike eyes. They looked like they would be expensive, something that lovely. Ah. What a weird thought to have. Was that creepy? “Can this big sis help you with anything?”
She hoped there wasn’t a weird grin on her face. Really, getting fired because she couldn’t help her giddiness in front of this doll-like girl, she wouldn’t know what to tell her boyfriend. He would probably teased her even harder than he was now, about her childish obsession with pretty dolls and the likes.
“...that will be much appreciated,” the girl nodded her head, an impeccable movement that got her long flaxen hair shifting gently, tumbling softly over her slight shoulder, “Could tell me if there’s a vacant room available, big sister?”
The girl in front of her didn’t say a word more, standing still with perfect posture and eyes simply affixed upon Jess in wait, nothing special at all. Even then, Jess felt her heart swell, twisting a mess inside her chest as if it were trying to carve its way out.
Her twitched, tilting upward into a smile, and the stillness of her body was almost deceptive to how fast her heartbeat was hammering, (so hard and loudly, scaring even herself–). Her skin felt clammy. “...of course!” Jess bit out, turning on her heel. “If you follow me this way, I can find you one real quick!”
She wanted to scream.
Aine stood in the center of the spacious, empty room, her feet planted firmly on the polished wooden floor, her muscles loosened appropriately after a light stretch.
Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes, shutting out the world around her.
The dull hum of the blimp's engines faded into the background as Aine focused solely on the rhythm of the music, a mere phantom inside her ears, her limbs falling into their designated places.
With practised movements, she began to sway to the imaginary melody, her arms floating through the air even without a thought, deeply ingrained from the days it took from her, occupying her mind even in the dark of her sleep, enough to become muscle memory for her.
She visualized the intricate patterns she had learned, and fell into it, one after one. Her teacher’s loud voice and booming words, harsh and well-meaning critiques that were never quite aimed at her, the steps and turns flowing from one to the next like they were supposed to.
Time seemed to still in the quiet, quiet room.
(“Mama!” Aine called excitedly, fingers tangled into the thin pibo Grandma Mu draped carefully onto her as she approached the front door with quick steps. She could hear Mama calling her back in a confused voice, and Aine said, “Mama, welcome!”
“Do you want to hurt yourself, child? Quiet down, now, your mom is on her way,” Grandma Mu chided sternly, just before Aine exited the living room, tapping her crane once onto the floor. “Did the lesson I gave you suddenly vanish from your brain?”
Her steps halted, and she turned around with clasped hands to look at Grandma Mu, her head lowering in a slight bow. “Aine’s sorry for being rowdy,” she said obediently, and there was a tilt of subtle approval from Grandma Mu that made her happy with herself.
“Baby? Did you call for me?” Mama said, her hand parting the string curtains, and once she was fully inside, she looked at Grandma with her back straighter and meekly said, “Good evening, thank you as always, Madam Mu.”
Mama always seemed to be slightly afraid of Grandma Mu, but there was also that admiring and reverent look she had. Somehow. Aine thought she knew why. It was because Mama had always been mawkish and soft-spined, and someone with a strong disposition and a sharp tongue like Grandma Mu was the opposite of her.
“How many times do I have to tell you that isn’t necessary?” Grandma Mu asked gruffly.
Mama’s head lowered. “...I’m sorry.”
“Like mother, like daughter. Though that’s the only thing,” there was a tired sigh. “Ah, you really ought to take more from Little Aine.”
“...I’m sorry.”
If there was one thing in common, it was that they were both frail. Mama, in heart and body, while it was true that Grandma Mu was lonely in her heart, it was only truly in her body that she was frail.
Aine blinked, then she tugged on Mama’s skirt and when Mama looked at her with red-rimmed eyes, she said, “Stop apologizing, Mama.”
You’ll cry again, she didn’t say.
Instead, she smiled happily, the way she knew Mama liked (she didn't know why, but it must have been something with the crinkled eyes and lips that curved upward more than Aine’s facial muscles felt comfortable with–). Aine stepped away from her sad Mama and took a good hold of the pibo, spinning around to face her again. “Mama, you should see what Grandma Mu taught Aine today.”
“...Did she?” Mama asked quietly, her glum washing away visibly as she began to perk up, and from the corner of her eye, Grandma Mu’s hold on her cane tightened. “What did Madam Mu teach you today, baby?”
(Conversely, oddly enough, Grandma Mu seemed to hate the smile. Her sharp and elegant features wore into their shapes and her face pinched into a deep lour.)
“She said it’s the…Flower Dance, Mama.”
“Flowering, child” Grandma Mu corrected.
“The Flowering Dance, Mama.”
“Flowering Dance? Ah. Now that Mama’s got a good look at you,” she smiled, “You look so pretty with that pibo on, like a flower fairy.”
Aine wasn’t sure what a flower fairy looked like, but she nodded anyway. “Thank you.”
Mama was pretty as well, even more now that she smiled.
“Aine’ll start now,” she announced under Grandma Mu’s watchful eyes, ready to catch any mistakes and noted room for improvement that would surely be detailed at the end.
“How exciting,” Mama giggled. “I’ll have my own little flower fairy dancing for me.”)
Aine retracted her extended arm, the yanyue dao falling to her side.
“...”
With an exhalation, she looked up, coming face to face with a blank-eyed Killua. He looked slightly haggard and unbalanced, and there was a cooling sheen of sweat lining his bare torso and arms.
Had he exercised, she thought first, but then the idea dismissed itself. Aine didn’t understand what happened for him to be like this, he looked like he could kill a few and wouldn’t even bat an eye about it. The bloodlust was teeming for whatever reason it was.
And where was Gon?
They held a quiet staring match for some time before she blinked and said, “Killua doesn’t have a footfall when he walks.” it hadn’t been quiet, because there was nothing for it to be quiet in the first place. If Aine hadn’t been as concentrated, then she might have not noticed him.
(It was very, very...devoid of sound. He must be very exceptional.)
Killua didn’t say anything.
“Why is that?”
Her re-bandaged hand clenched and unclenched around the helve of the yanyue dao (Leorio did very well even though he was tired and half asleep, it didn’t hinder her ability to handle the yanyue dao at all) as she made a move for her bag by the wall, where her outer dress was folded neatly.
Aine kneeled and picked up a towel a staff of the blimp had given her and offered it to Killua. She had asked for it because she wanted to use it, but now that Killua was here, he seemed to need it more than her. “Why are you angry?”
He didn’t take it, but she didn't either. She took out wet wipes from her bag instead, carefully patting her sweat away, and then redressed herself. The air was slightly cold, but her skin still ran hot, it caused her to have goosebumps all over.
“Did you kill someone?”
There wasn't an answer to this question either. Aine didn’t mind, she looked at the clock before shifting to the doorway. As if on cue, a tall woman in a red uniform appeared, politely knocking on the open door to make herself known.
“Little Aine,” Jess called with a smile, lifting up a steaming porcelain cup from the cart, “Big sis is here with your milk tea!”
(She had been very insistent–)
“Thank you very much.”
“I also brought some snacks, as extras,” Jess winked.
“Oh,” Aine said. “Thank you, big sister.”
There was a very loopy smile on Jess's face as her hands eagerly patted Aine’s head. “It’s no problem at all. It's part of my job after all.”
“...”
Aine was near certain it wasn’t, but she didn’t point it out, only nodding along amicably as Jess continued to chatter enthusiastically before she stopped herself with full regret. “I have to get back to work now, but if you happen to see me and you need something, just ask! Alright? Just ask! Bye-bye, little Aine!”
When she looked back, Killua was already helping himself with the white towel, slightly less tense than how he was before. Aine sat down, placing the snacks and milk tea down, and her bag was in between her and Killua.
Quietly, she ate snacks. She wondered what happened, and she wondered if she asked Gon, would he know? Aine thought he would because he and Killua had been together the last time she had seen him. It could be that something had frustrated Killua so much he walked away, leaving Gon behind.
Maybe.
She didn’t know.
Aine sighed, drinking the last of her tea, and then she wrapped up her yanyue dao, ready to head out. Looking at Killua, it didn’t seem like he was going to move for some time, so she nudged the plate of snacks she couldn’t finish together with a milk candy she had in her bag.
(They tasted good. They were her very favorite.)
In the end, they didn’t talk at all.
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 11: Go Gentle Into That Good Night; Dream of Lavender Field
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In the quiet and dark room, there were bouts of snoring and incoherent sleep-talking, but where Aine was, in her corner, it was a little different. Leorio was deathly asleep, and mingled with his snores were Kurapika’s disturbed noises, a sheen of sweat coated his temple.
Kurapika was having a bad dream, she thought, it might evolve into a nightmare anytime soon. Small and muted groans and constant twitching, his lips were pressed tight, similarly to his eyebrows. Aine thought to wait for a little and maybe it would abate, but he had been in this state for some minutes now.
(On a lighter note, Leorio was sleeping so soundly that it made a very stark dichotomy between the two of them, especially when they were sitting next to each other.)
Bayu had them sometimes too, bad dreams and nightmares alike, but normally she would just hold his hand or hug him or something, to make him know that she was there. That was why physical contact worked best for the most part.
The same method would not do for Kurapika though, for many reasons, but the most glaring one was that they weren’t familiar with each other as she was with Bayu. It wasn’t much of a surprise. Though, she supposed, there was no harm in trying.
She nodded to herself.
It wouldn’t hurt to try.
“Kurapika.”
Aine shook him gently, once, twice, and three times, and he began to shift. His fine, gold eyelashes quivered, and his eyes were resplendently red and watery when they slowly opened, gleaming darkly like well-cut pigeon blood rubies.
They restlessly flitted around the room until they landed on her, and a look of drowsy confusion was placed into them.
(Burning hotly, they were intense crimson, staring at her.)
(Aine felt like she had–)
“...Aine?” he said quietly, voice slightly hoarse after a few hours of being unused. “Haven’t you gone to sleep yet?”
Kurapika was a very pretty person, she thought absently.
Her head moved side to side. “No, but I'm about to.”
“Oh, then,” he sat a little straighter up against the wall, “what’s the matter?”
“I want a hug.”
“...?” Kurapika blinked, and he seemed to awaken a little more. “I’m sorry?”
“I want a hug,” she repeated easily and not a beat late.
“A hug,” he said the word as if it was foreign on his tongue, then he rubbed his eyes and said it again, slowly, as if having simultaneously understood the meaning and not, “A hug?”
She nodded. “A…very long hug.”
(What was the word for cuddle in Common Tongue?)
“A very long hug.”
They were simply repeating each other at this point.
“Mm,” she nodded again.
“Ah, um,” Kurapika flustered, looking like he didn’t know how to make head and tail of the situation. “I– can I ask why?
“I want one,” she answered selfishly, “Can you give me one, Kurapika?”
“Ah,” he said once more.
“It helps with sleeping better,” Aine said.
That seemed to clear something up for Kurapika, as he blinked, and there was a small, unreadable tilt of his lips. “Are you not used to sleeping alone, Aine?”
“...”
He seemed to have misunderstood her, but she didn’t correct it, only bothering to stare at him in wait for an answer. While it was true that Aine was never alone much, she would like to believe that she could operate just fine alone. At the very least, for sleeping, she could.
It was for his sake, but Aine wouldn’t be telling him that though.
Bayu hated it when something even remotely close to weakness was explicitly stated to be known about him, even though he must have surely known Aine knew nearly everything that was to know about him.
(All the important things anyway.)
Of course, it wasn’t just Bayu. She noticed that not a lot of people like having their faults pointed out to them. They were embarrassed and ashamed of themselves when it happened. Aine could both understand in theory and not in person.
Having her faults pointed out to her would make it so she could improve that part of herself after all, and if it had to be pointed out, that would mean it was something noticeable but she hadn’t noticed. (She supposed that could be the frustrating part?)
And so, since she didn’t have any other reference point to take from, Aine would assume it was the same for Kurapika as it was for the vast majority of people she had made acquaintance with.
“If that’s the case, then...” he started quietly, but it got to nowhere as he trailed off with an awkward expression on his face. Kurapika seemed lost for words, but Aine thought he wasn’t used to anything like this.
She smiled. “Thank you,” Aine muttered, moving closer to him, “Excuse me.”
As Aine slowly untangled the blanket from his person, Kurapika was frozen stiff with his arms hovering ungainly in the air when Aine inserted herself into his space, one of his legs slid out of its folded position, making room for her. She didn’t know whether it was a conscious decision on his part or not.
Once she was content and neither heard nor felt a complaint from Kurapika, Aine tugged Kurapika’s hovering arms downward with minimum effort. Since he was very cooperative, she managed to manoeuvre the blanket around them properly.
Softly, Aine pressed her ear onto his chest, where his thumping heart was rapid and nervous.
It felt warm.
(In a way, it was very familiar to her.)
He hadn’t said a single word throughout the whole thing, but there wasn’t anything to say either.
“Sweet dreams,” she wished him and closed her eyes, a pinpoint focus on the beating underneath her ear, inside the body that was warm and tense. It reminded her a little of Bayu (and Mama, it might even be closer to Mama’s the way it started to slow down quietly–).
She felt Kurapika relaxing after a few moments, sure of himself as his arms comfortably laid on his folded leg, just over her back in a phantom of a touch.
There was a soft sigh.
“...Goodnight, Aine.”
Hearing that, she quietly let herself fall into a slumber.
(So warm.)
There was a delicately sweet scent coming from the soft and pliant body in his arms, one that he was vaguely familiar with, having tried using it as a means of relaxation before, on occasions when things like this happened.
It never worked though.
(He never sought out the lavender-scented pouch again after that, quickly moving on to another sleeping agent. He had tried many, many things after having been plagued with nightmares on and off.
Not that they ever helped.
Sometimes, it got so bad he went a few days with only small naps in between and a persistent headache to evince that.)
Strangely enough, the lavender fragrance from Aine seemed to have its intended effect on him. Maybe it was the warm body in between his arms that contributed to it, the soft breathing as he felt her heaving slowly against his, or the steady beats that thrummed faintly on his chest.
Maybe it was all of it.
He breathed out, unwinding, and carefully slumbered his head onto Aine, feeling her cotton-like hair tickling the underside of his jaw.
Maybe it was just the thought of knowing that someone was here.
Normally, after the efflux of regret-filled memories overwhelmed him in his sleep, no matter how heavy Kurapika’s eyelids felt, the reluctance to give in to the urge would, more so than not, win over his tiredness.
His nerves were frayed taut and his retinas would burn with intense regret as the scenes rewound themselves like a film inside a broken projector. The bloody aftermath of the massacre, corpses that were besmirched unfeelingly, some mutilated beyond recognition, and others as though they had been put on display.
But all of them had one thing in common, it was like they were discarded after having exceeded their use, with their eyes having been plundered, left with no dignity or anything of resemblance.
The feeling of failure was heavier than anything else as he had slowly carved for place for them in the cold ground. It was eerily quiet, as the sun rose and he collapsed on his knees, hands clasped together in prayer as his vision tainted red and tears dripped down uncontrollably.
There was only him left, now, he had thought blankly.
And when Kurapika had swallowed dryly, as if to digest the thought, there was suddenly ash and fire on his tongue, cloaking his throat mercilessly, making him unable to breathe properly.
Grief sat low and simmered hotly inside him, slowly reaching its boiling point.
The days after that had been white and hazy, he couldn’t recall much of it, what he had been doing, where he had been, what his thoughts were. Kurapika was left without purpose, for a while, all he did was survive.
It felt like a struggle he didn’t want to put up with, but even if he didn't want to, he wouldn’t give up either, for some unknown reason. Couldn’t. Maybe it had been because they wouldn’t want that for him, the people who were no longer there.
He was alone now, selfishly living a meaningless life.
What was left was only the glitchy static, a gaping, dark vacuum that was slowly disintegrating him, and he would not let it stop until there was nothing left, taking everything savagely with no remorse for the undeserving, lone survivor.
Sometimes, Kurapika couldn’t help but think he was a traitor. He was alive, but why? What right did he have that his clan didn't deserve to live on like this? What right did those scums have to–
Aine shifted within his arm, and he felt himself moving to accommodate her without really thinking, his train of thought straying as he focused on her soft breathing, and the heat of her body through the layers of fabric.
It was warm.
(She was alive–)
Kurapika let out a shaky exhale, swallowing thickly, and wetting his arid throat. It brought forth discomfort, the inside of his mouth dried up to the point of irritation. He forced himself to relax, releasing his clenched fists. “The Hunter Exam,” he murmured, “Right.”
The Exam was continuing first thing in the morning, after they landed, he presumed. He should conserve as much energy as possible, not knowing what to expect.
Sleep. He should get some sleep.
“...”
After some pondering, deeply cerebrating, Kurapika carefully lowered his arms, wrapping it gingerly over Aine’s thin shoulder in an inexperienced, unsure motion. He waited with bated breath, and when she didn’t stir from her sleep, he felt himself sagging in relief.
Then, hesitantly, he began slotting her more underneath his jaw, alongside his collarbone, making her lean more onto him if that was possible.
…warm.
He closed his eyes.
(A sinner seeking repentance for the unjustly departed.)
She was the first one to wake up. The room was still dark, and there were still noisy snoring and ear-reach murmurs pervading the quiet. Kurapika’s heartbeat was slow and even, and his breathing above her head was steady and unchanging.
He hadn’t woken up yet (and he hadn’t had a nightmare either, Aine would have known. She was a light sleeper; she had been told).
Aine was careful not to make a move like she always did when she was with Bayu or Blaise (but not Mama, because Mama always woke up first, always, she needed to work at horribly early hours) as she didn’t want to disturb their sleep.
It was not that there were many rooms for her to move, but Aine had a distinct feeling that even with just a very light nudge, it would be enough for Kurapika to stir awake. Luckily for her, she was quite good at staying still, Bayu couldn’t even tell despite how irrationally oversuspicious and sensitive he was some time.
(But Mama always could. Somehow, always, Aine didn’t know how. It must have been because she was Aine’s Mama. That must be why. And also, maybe it was because Aine was older now.)
(Another day without Mama.)
Like that one time under the staircase, behind the wall of boxes, where Bayu had dark bruises on his person, but he had that most of the time, though that time, Aine also had one as well. It was from when she had unintentionally annoyed Big Brother too much and his temper exploded.
Aine hadn’t minded that, but Bayu did, so as a matter of course, he had waited under the stairs with his face all scrunched up in a bad scowl and hands balled too tightly into fists. Bayu had been very snappy from the amount of sleep he had gotten (or the lack thereof, so he was especially short-tempered that day).
It wasn’t necessary because of her, but all his bottled-up, volatile emotions had nowhere to go except to her, so Aine was the scapegoat for that. Bayu had lashed out at Uncle (he always did) but it wasn’t enough because it didn’t really do anything of note.
So, Aine was there, and that was that.
(It never helped though, because the guilt always crept unto him. Always and always. Because, no matter how he acted, Brother Bayu was a good person.)
Big Brother was always willing to give back, so when she fell onto him, he didn’t really do anything other than stay as stiff as a corpse under her touches. A poke under his eye, on the heavy eye socket, untying and redoing his visible bandages, slotting their hands together as she leaned back against him.
Aine hadn’t moved for a very long time, so Bayu must have assumed she had fallen asleep because then, she could feel him pressing his cheek against her head, his body relaxing minutely after he asked, “You awake?” and got no answer from her.
Then, a long while after another, there was a muffled sniffle, as if he had been trying to hold it back but was unable to. Her hair had felt damp, but Aine still hadn’t said a thing. It took a very long time before it had stopped, but it wasn’t because he wanted to, but because he had fallen asleep, embittered and wretched.
(Aine hated Uncle a lot, and sometimes, as hideous as the thought was, she wished he was gone. Why must someone as revolting as him be allowed to cause misery to others? Then the answer came to her as the thumping of Bayu’s heart slowed, it must be because he was as revoltingly disgusting as he was.
Why couldn’t he just disappear? Aine was sure if he was to die, nobody would miss him. And if a person did miss him, they must have been as revoltingly disgusting as he was.)
Bayu had bad dreams as well, but he had shown only little indication of it, like Kurapika. It had gotten much better for Bayu since then, but he still had some bouts of nightmares once in a while. Aine was worried, but she felt she worried often, and Big Brother had grown big now.
He didn’t like it when Aine fussed over him. It was annoying, he said, but she thought he wasn’t truthful when he said that. He wasn’t truthful about a lot of things.
Kurapika's arm that had slung over her shoulders under their sleep tensed and tightened, but there was no other change, and he was still asleep. His cheek pressed onto her head and his soft breathing was warm.
(The thumping of his heart quiet and muffled against her back.)
She wondered how Killua was faring, and where Gon was. What reason could there have been for them to separate? Did they argue? That couldn’t be it. Killua had looked all too frustrated and mad for that to be the case (he seemed like the type to fold like wet paper to Gon, whom he had gotten attached to).
It was something that had worked both of them a sweat, given that Killua’s physical condition was better than that of Gon’s. Had Killua lost? But to whom? As it was, Aine didn’t think it was within the scope of Gon’s ability to win against him as of yet. In the physical area at least.
Someone stronger than Killua.
Hisoka?
Aine quickly rejected that notion as soon as it came. Killua seemed to have a strange aversion to Hisoka, but Hisoka was also very weird so she could understand why. There was no way Killua would let Gon approach him either.
It had to be someone with a somewhat mild temper and would be somewhat cooperative, and also someone who would pique their interest. There were no other people their age, was there? Aine definitely didn’t remember seeing one.
Hanzo?
A person stronger than Killua with an occupation surely none of the two was well-acquaintance with, but that didn’t feel right. Maybe it wasn’t one of the participants.
(A proctor?)
Well…
She could speculate all she wanted, and she could also get an answer from Gon the next time she met him.
Kurapika shifted again, his arms loosened around her and Aine took the opportunity to extract herself from him. It was late. When she heard a mumble, she turned back to see a bleary-eyed Kurapika, his voice slurred and barely audible, “...Aine?”
Aine blinked. “Kurapika,” she greeted and waited.
It didn’t seem like he was fully awake yet. It reminded her of how she was when Mama went to work. Remembering what Mama did, Aine moved closer to Kurapika and gently placed her hand on his head, slowly patting him.
She thought that she liked the feeling of his hair. The fine strands were silky between her fingers, and they suited his pretty appearance (it was how she would imagine Mama’s hair to be. Not to say that it wasn’t silky because it was, but if Mama was–).
“You are still tired, are you not?” she said, “So go back to sleep.”
Kurapika stared at her a little, for a few seconds, without saying a word, and she was wondering if he had fallen back asleep again when he nodded dazedly, “...Mm.”
“Mm. Good boy,” Aine commended lightly, giving him one last pat as his eyes closed. “...Sweet dream, Kurapika.”
Gon was sleeping, carefree, in a corner of the room, arms and legs sprawled out like a starfish, light snores bubbled out from his up-curved lips. He looked very happy, the opposite of how she found Killua (or how Killua found her) and Aine wondered again what had happened.
(There was also a possibility that her guess about some bet being placed might have been right, and Killua had most definitely lost. Did Gon win, then, since he seemed so happy?)
She reached her finger out and poke him lightly on his cheek, light enough that it hadn’t even gotten a stir from him.
Gon was a deep sleeper it seemed.
Aine used her wet wipes to wipe his face and neck and took a blanket that was crumpled quite a distance from him, (she assumed it had been him covering some time before she came) and covered him with it again, though Aine wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to kick it off like he had before.
She tilted her head.
It was a quarter to seven.
“Good morning, Gon.”
Then Aine moved away and started her morning.
It had started as a meticulous process that eventually morphed into a habit of sorts, but she thought it was normal that it was so, as doing the same thing over and over again every day at the same time could only result in things of similar kind.
Humans were creatures of habit after all.
Normally, when Aine finished her morning training and washed up, she would head to the dining room and join Blaise for breakfast, but she was no longer at home. To be honest, it felt slightly disorderly, as the last few days had felt, but she was slowly growing used to it.
In the end, the point of heading to the dining room in the mornings was to eat, so even though Blaise wasn’t here and there was no breakfast ready for her, she could easily achieve the goal by going to the cafeteria. It might be a little lonely, but Aine would live.
She took her tray and sat by the window where the orange light lay over the table and seat. The place was somewhat void of people, and it was only Aine, less than a handful of participants and a few staff.
There was a muted stillness and tranquillity in the cafeteria, one thing that was in common with the dining room. Blaise and Aine didn’t talk very much while dining, something didn’t sit well with her with interrupting mealtime.
At least breakfast, as it was purported to be the most important meal of the day, though Aine thought every meal to be equally important, especially when one was hungry.
Of course, she wouldn’t ignore a conversation if someone started them.
She picked up the spoon and began eating, digging into the plated fruit and granola. It was, like most, a slow and still morning. Aine liked that. She took her time eating, switching from that to staring blankly outside the window.
Across from her, a hand reached down to knock on the table, gaining her attention minutely.
“Good morning, Aine,” Kurapika said. “I hope the seat is not taken.”
At the shake of her head, a bowl of porridge was placed, and the chair across from her was pulled out. When he had fully settled himself, Aine placed her spoon down and looked at him. “Good morning to you as well, Kurapika,” she said, “I hope you had a good night’s rest.”
Kurapika stared at her for a little while before blinking and replied, “...Yes, I did.”
“That’s good to hear,”
“Yes. Thank you for asking,” he said with a nod. His eyes flitted and his smile was kind. Kurapika tucked his ear behind his ear and asked, “I take it that you did as well?”
“It was the same as most nights,” she gave an honest answer. “...Thank you for your help.”
“You’re welcome.”
They continued to make small talk but focused mostly on their breakfast. Superficial and insubstantial questions returned with superficial and insubstantial answers. Even if it was just those types, the conversations were flowing well enough that there was no awkwardness in the air for the rest of the mealtime.
Notes:
That's Aine BTW, drawn by me ( ‘• ω • `) the sundress is not the outfit she's wearing currently. Please tell me if you're interested in seeing more! (or less! That's valid, too!)
This (the chapter) was kinda painful ngl (。・_・。)...I like it, but– well.
Anyways, thanks for reading :D
Chapter 12: There Is No Route Out of the Maze
Chapter Text
The sun was warm on her skin, but being so high up, the wind was cold. Aine watched from a distance at the participants scattered around and by the edge of the tower. Gon and Killua were at the edge as well, and Leorio and Kurapika a little behind, watching with mild interest at the man who claimed to be a rock climber.
Aine wasn’t really interested in that though, she was quick to look away the moment the man’s head disappeared from her view.
Wandering around for a bit, she came to a stop at the heart of the platform.
She wondered where they were exactly.
Trick Tower was a very tall, cylindrical structure on top of another very tall, cylindrical mountain. Surrounded by nothing but white clouds and green forests that only stretched and stretched. It was basically in the middle of nowhere.
They had been abandoned a few moments after they landed on the barren top of the tower with minimum instruction.
《Get down from the tower within 72 hours.》
How? The most obvious answer would obviously not be the answer, and if the only way to go down was to scale the side, then it would eliminate way too many people. Not everyone had experience in rock climbing, and it would need an advanced person to be able to scale such a smooth wall.
There was a scream.
Aine began wandering around again.
Scaling down would take a lot of skills, she thought for the second time. The other most obvious way down in a place as barren as the top of a tower would be–
She stepped onto another tile; something clicked.
“Ah.”
–trapdoors.
(Aine was gone.)
Gon felt confused, his arms crossed over his front and his head slightly to the side, and he blinked, feeling like if he did so enough, then maybe she would suddenly appear again.
She didn't.
He looked back at his friends again.
(She had this habit, he figured, of disappearing when nobody was watching. It had been the third time something like this happened, after all. Gon wondered if this was considered him breaking his promise, he hoped it wasn't, even though it really wasn't a promise in the first place.)
"Where did she go?" Leorio asked with a stressed look on his face, head whirling around, sweeping the flat plain that contained only the Hunter Exam's participants. "Don't tell me she fell off–"
"Please, don't suggest something that ridiculous, Leorio." Kurapika cut in with a sigh. "If you hadn't manage to fall off yet, I doubt that Aine will."
Leorio blinked, then his eyes narrowed as he yelled with a clenched fist, "Hey! What's that supposed to mean!"
"Nothing implicit, I'd say," Kurapika replied coolly.
Killua snorted, which Gon couldn't understand why, and Leorio wasted no time to redirect his prickly glare at them.
Gon laughed nervously at the sight.
It was almost funny, how Killua and Leorio headbutted with each other, even though they had only met, in a more childish way than how Leorio and Kurapika did. Gon was sure if Aine was here, she might have said something like, 'Leorio's the oldest, but he is easily bullied,' which would make Leorio angrier, but not in that way because he seemed to have a soft spot for Aine.
...Gon was beginning to miss her now. He wouldn't want to say that he was worried, because he knew she was very strong and dependable (even though she was very small).
"Maybe she found the way down?" he suggested carefully, looking around, then blinked confusedly. "...huh."
"What is it?" Killua asked.
Gon tilted his head. "Is it just me, or are there less people?"
She was now inside the tower.
That was sort of abrupt but Aine had to find her way down sooner or later anyway (she wasn’t picky with the method), and so it was also perfectly timed. She was also considering some other options if she really couldn’t find a way, so it was good that it didn’t have to come to that.
Aine wasn’t sure how sturdy the tower was after all, or if she could even do that even though there weren’t really any rules stated. And if the tower was built with a really strong material, then she didn’t want to risk damaging her yanyue dao.
All equipment should still be treated with great care.
With that said, she shifted her sling bag and adjusted the yanyue dao on her back before walking through the only exit the dimmed room currently had to offer.
When she opened the door and stepped over the frame, iron bars shot through the floor, preventing any backtracking that could potentially occur. (She wondered what would happen if she had hesitated. Would she just be skewered–) There was one long corridor in front of Aine that forked into multiple others, lightened up by torches, the room was still very dark.
It was like an underground maze.
There was a static crackling from the speaker hanging from above the door she had passed through, readying to transfer over a voice.
“Welcome, participant, to the Treasure Hunt!” the speaker crackled, “As the name suggests, you must find the ‘treasure’ if you wish to move on. The treasure lies somewhere within the maze before you, and of course, there will be certain obstacles obstructing your path. If your memory is not good, then you best hope that luck is with you!”
The speaker crackled again and then fell into stillness.
Aine looked back to the long corridor with branches.
It was a maze.
The only maze she had been in was the one in the garden, but since her memory was good (when it mattered anyway), there shouldn’t be too many problems with her inexperience. In the first place, Aine didn’t think that having any experience with mazes would help much since she still wouldn’t have any information about the maze she was about to tackle.
Other than her good memory, Aine had just about one trick up her sleeve, but that would only work if this was a fair maze, and somehow, she really doubted that it would be. Unlike back home, she couldn’t hope for the maze to be as simple as placing her hand on the wall and walking until she found the exit.
Could she?
Even with that question in mind, she still placed her hand on the wall and began walking anyway since her goal right now was to find the ‘treasure’ first. Aine needed that to escape after all, so whether she found the exit now or later wouldn’t matter much.
If she happened to come across it, then that was good luck.
Though...
“...”
Aine wondered how it was going for the other.
Had they found their way down yet? The number of people atop should be decreasing steadily, so they should take notice any time now, or maybe one of them had also accidentally stumbled upon one like Aine had.
The first obstacle (bar all the traps laid out throughout the maze. Those were everywhere) came in the form of a dark chasm-like hole that expanded several meters ahead, but it wasn’t a dead-end as Aine could see that the path still stretched further.
At first, it would only seem like a giant hole that stopped the path from continuing, but with closer inspection, there were platforms sticking out from the wall and odd poles protruding out from the dark chasm, which she would take as the path she was to take if she wanted to carry on.
The only problems now were that they were terribly narrow, the platforms were just the width of her feet, Aine suspected, and the poles not even half of the size.
And then there were also pendulum blades swinging around relentlessly.
“...”
It was quite the predicament.
(There was a dead-end.
She made her way back again, not particularly surprised by the revelation.
Bayu would have called her stupid for continuing on even though Aine had been nearly certain there was nothing on the other side.
Laik would have laughed and said, “It was all for the fun of it.”
At the very least, there had been some kind of clue. She thought it was.)
Not for the first time, Aine silently wondered if she could simply bulldoze away with the walls. The material was very fragile, and she was sure it would crumble down very easily if she was to just try.
She stared at where the deflected pikes were buried within said fragile wall which had then triggered the barrage of arrows aiming where she had previously stood.
If anything was to be understood, it was that the maze was definitely out to maim the unsuspecting and unvigilant people.
After several more dead-ends, Aine proceeded to try her flippant idea out and proceeded to ruthlessly demolish the wall in front of her the moment she came to a decision with a harsh swing of her yanyue dao.
It crumbled and kicked a storm of dust everywhere, followed by dozens of hissing noises, and a den of flickering-tongued snakes slithering around the rubbles as soon as they were broken free from their confinement, focus zeroing in on Aine the moment they noticed a non-snake among their midst.
There were so many of the boneless-esque, slithering bodies on the floor that she felt her skin crawl with disgust and gooseflesh, and Aine unthinkingly grabbed onto the closest torch and threw that into the thick of the snakes, lighting the whole den on fire.
As well as the corridor.
Smokes filled the air, and there were burning snakes everywhere.
It was horrible.
And she was advised by a voice from a speaker nearby to not set fire in an uncontrolled environment as the sprinklers were manually triggered.
(In the end, she stood with her hands clasped together and muttered out a sincere apology for the den as the gamey smell of smoke and snake lingered in the corridor.)
Aine would try to be more careful next time, but for now, there would be no more walls demolished within the maze.
…Not if she wasn’t really desperate.
Gon blinked, but took the thing on the pedestal and clasped it around his wrist anyway. "Five watches?" he said, a somewhat puzzled tone.
"It seems that we require a party of five to continue," Kurapika informed, peering with reservation at the silver watch in his hand, his thumb brushing on the cool material, a light qualm in his head as he slowly followed Gon’s action.
(Kurapika didn’t know how to feel about how quickly Gon went ahead with it, showing no suspicion whatsoever, and felt that maybe he should teach Gon to be wary of foreign objects.)
"Oh, dammit,” Leorio said exasperatedly, looking slightly frustrated and a second away from hitting himself. “Really? The time we’re down one person is the time we need all of us? What kind of joke is this!"
“Are we supposed to just wait until another person falls down?” Killua asked boredly, but not far away from being irritated either.
His answer came in empty silence.
“...It appears so,” Kurapika guessed.
“How long is this gonna take anyway?” Leorio said, planting himself firmly onto the ground, legs crossed and grumbling, “No more than an hour, I hope! Who knows how long it’ll take for us to get to the bottom.”
At that, Kurapika found himself agreeing with Leorio. They had no way of knowing what lay ahead of them, locked in a room with a goal and ticking clock, left waiting for something that might never come if they were particularly unlucky.
“...I miss Aine,” Gon said.
"Me too, Gon," Leorio said. "Me too."
And Kurapika worried.
That was a lie, she thought, as another wall fell uncoordinatedly, but this time, she felt that this wall was meant to be bulldozed. Aine wouldn’t have set fire to anything either, even if there were snakes behind it because she was now prepared to encounter them.
Not that there were any snakes this time, but if there were.
Anyway, a chest was placed inside the hollowed-out space behind the demolished wall. Aine approached it cautiously, but there weren’t any unanticipated, new traps inside. She activated them all, then closed in on the chest.
It was tightly double-locked by thick chains and padlocks, followed by one other set of the same things, and the chest itself also had a keyhole.
Aine stared at it for a little while before reaching into her bag and fished out a small case.
She zipped it open and got to work.
There was an odd thing inside the chest.
(...What was Aine supposed to do with a copper bar?)
("I really miss Aine," Leorio said, a repeat of Gon's words, his expression falling the moment he saw that slimy smile on Tonpa's face, and that sentiment was echoed all around.)
The next obstacle was a proud ruffian, whose ego seemed to inflate exponentially the moment he saw her (it could even be bigger than the mass of his muscle), proclaiming loudly that something was an easy task, and that he would be out in no time.
“If they are gonna send some fuckin’ filly my way, they shoulda just let me go and save the trouble of cleanin’ up a body,” he snickered, looking at her. “Aren’t they the bad guys? Sendin’ you to your death like this?”
Aine wasn’t really sure what he was droning on about, but he looked to be confident in his assessment.
If it was possible, she would like to simply ignore the man's whole existence and concentrate on not getting caught up in some traps and carrying on her way, as he looked troublesome, and Aine had been advised to avoid unnecessary inconvenience, but that wasn’t possible because he was in her way.
“Are we going to fight?” she asked.
“What?” he blinked, and his mouth stretched into a faux smile before he mockingly repeated, “Are we gonna fight? That’s a stupid question. If you’re smart, girl, then you would just stay still and leave everything to me, it’d be much faster and less painful for you.”
“Liar,” Aine said, and her brows furrowed involuntarily. “Do you want to kill me?”
He let out a rueful sigh.
“Look, girl, it’s not like I want to do this, but I got family out there, you know?”
“Control your expression if you want to lie, uncle,” she began unfastening the yanyue dao from her back as she sidestepped, and the man’s balled fist sped past her head not even a second after. “The grin on your face is very repulsing.”
“Oh, come on, girl,” he clicked his tongue. “What’s the use of strugglin’ when we both can already see the out–”
("Overestimation of your own abilities could be your greatest undoing.")
With the outstretched of her arms, the dark, polished helve sat comfortably in her hand and the silver head glowed orange under the fire torchlight, but as blood sputtered out from the man’s slashed throat and the sound of his voice choked, the clean blade could only be slowly coated in bright red.
The damp and muggy smell of the closed-off space could almost erase the tangy, metallic smell of his blood quietly pooling around them.
She retracted her yanyue dao, and the man limply fell with a thud onto the hard floor and his severed windpipe continued to gargle blood out cruelly and haplessly from the cut, spilling like a fountain from the gaps of his desperate fingers, crooked as they were.
He twitched and twitched until his eyes closed and his beige pants darkened.
And then he wasn’t moving anymore.
“...”
It was awfully easy.
(Aine frowned, her heart's heaving pounding made her feel uncomfortable and sticky inside. It always did.)
(She hated that it was so easy. Why was it so easy? It shouldn’t have, she thought, it shouldn't. If it hadn't been, then–)
When Aine began to move again, languidly stepping past the man, something caught her eyes.
There was a furnace producing hot waves of heat the moment she turned the corner. She looked at it with a puzzled expression before letting out a small, “Ah.”
Aine took out the copper bar from her bag.
Now she knew what she was supposed to do with it.
Even then, she couldn’t help but think of how random the whole thing was.
The last obstacle was probably finding the exit, but the task wasn’t very hard if you had a way to keep track of the paths you had taken. Although Aine didn’t have any of that, her memory was very good when she needed it to be.
She made use of that when she stumbled upon a wall with weirdly off-coloured bricks. Something in her head clicked and Aine felt she had spent enough time in the maze now, she began making her way to where she assumed the exit to be.
Aine had been wandering around the maze for around five hours now, and it took her about one to head back, stopping just in front of the barred door.
To the side of it was a clunky keypad.
Blithely, Aine pressed the keys one by one. On the man’s skin, on the underside of his arm, visible from the torn-up sleeve, there was a strange sequence of numbers jaggedly tattooed in dark, faded ink. It was most likely his identification number.
It was with a high-pitched beep the bars lowered and gave way to the door she came from.
Everything was still the same, the room was still barren with nothing other than the singular door to the maze, but it was with a purpose that Aine came back.
The starting point only had one path to offer because the other wasn’t available to her at that moment. At first, when she was dropped down, there was only a room with one door. After looking around for a little, she felt that something was off with one of the walls.
(To be completely honest, the thought of simply brute forcing it did cross her mind, but Aine had no idea what was on the other side, so she thought better than to risk it.
After the two ventures she had made, it was really a hit-or-miss situation, she felt.
Saskia had always taught her that if there was an easy way, then do not be ashamed to utilize it as only fools with pride too big and ego too fragile would be.
It was prudent to use whatever was available at hand, she had said, and Aine felt that she had always listened well, so this would be no different from usual.)
She came to a standstill in front of one of the brick walls, it didn’t have a door, and neither was it the ‘off wall’, a completely normal wall with the same brick pattern as the discolored one from the maze, at the other side of the first obstacle. Aine began pushing, and the bricks sank readily under her hands.
The sound of clockwork reached her ears, and a section of the ‘off wall’ slid open, revealing a new path that stretched into a thin corridor. It couldn’t be said that she was weary when she began stepping inside the shadowy and enclosed space and Aine wondered lightly if she would be scolded for it if someone knew as the sound of her footfall ricocheted off the emptiness, though the thought hadn’t stopped her from walking.
At the end of the corridor, there were two doors.
They were nearly identical, if not for the lack of a keyhole on the left door.
Aine pushed open the unlocked door, and there was a long staircase, then she took out the copper key and inserted it into the other door. Turning it, the lock clicked. She pushed this one open as well, and there was an identical set of stairs inside, from the width and height and everything.
“...”
Since she had incidentally stumbled upon the key, she might as well choose the one she had used it on. With that flimsy logic in place, Aine went ahead and walked down the right set of stairs.
At the two-hour mark, after a lot of traps and steps, it seemed something else had been triggered as she heard an ominous sound from far away, further up the stairs, rolling and rolling and rolling, and Aine wondered if she had taken the wrong path as she picked up her pace.
The thought was quickly dispelled from her head the moment she laid eyes on something that looked like an elevator. Aine stepped inside unhesitatingly, there was no other way now after all.
It dinged, and the door slid shut, with a subtle shake, the elevator-like thing moved, and it felt exactly like the entrance to the Exam Site.
Aine walked into the spacious hall with three other people (Hisoka, Hanzo, and someone she didn’t know the name of), and there was an announcement made. “Third phase, fourth to arrive; #406 Aine,” the speaker declared loudly, “Time spent; 9 hours and 48 minutes.”
There were still over 60 hours left.
It was a lot of time, and the first day hadn’t passed yet even. Aine looked around for a little bit, Hisoka had his eyes closed but wasn’t sleeping (his shoulder was injured), Hanzo seemed to be meditating, and the man with grey skin and odd pins was staring blankly into nothing. (She did that often too…)
"..."
Right.
She should set off to clean her yanyue dao in the meantime, Aine decided with a nod.
Now, where was the washroom?
(She wondered how the others were doing.)
("Gon? Why'd you suddenly stop?"
"...Do you guys hear that?"
"Hear what...ah."
"It sounds like something is rolling...?"
"...! Run!"
"Geh, what the–! Dammit! Fess up, who was it that triggered it!"
"I don't think now's the time for that, Leorio!"
"Whoa! Shi–"
"What a timing to suddenly fall on your face, seriously, comical!"
"If you have time to make a sarcastic remark, help me!"
"You know what they say; every man for themselves!")
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 13: Wanderlust and Blue Bird of Happiness
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
This was like when she was back in Gu Long, back in her room waiting for Mama to come back home in the orange-bathed room. The lightbulb would occasionally flicker and the air was so stuffy sometimes it felt like she was suffocating.
Aine loved it there still, because Mama had been with her, and that was really all Aine needed. Wouldn’t anyone love it when they were with their most beloved person? Not that Mama was ever content with that though.
It wasn’t enough.
Mama couldn’t do anything about that anyway, so Mama should have just learned to be content like Aine had.
(So miserable and sad Mama had been. Aine’s heart ached wretchedly every time she thought of Mama. It would be good if Mama was happy even if she wasn’t satisfied, but she wasn’t.
Why–)
A door slid open and orange light spilt inside as a man in a uniform walked in, his expression stoic, pushing a rickety cart with him.
They got bread and soup for dinner. They were neither soft nor warm, but they filled Aine's stomach just fine, and nobody had voiced a complaint, so they sat in silence as the sound of spoons clicked the bottom of the metallic bowls.
It wasn't that it was silent, but it was quiet. Hisoka was weird and occasionally let out chuckles that resounded in the room, Hanzo worked out and his breathing sometimes got heavy, and the man whose skin was grey and was with odd pins seemed to be clicking like a robot would.
Aine wondered why.
(It took her about seven hours to finish the nameless book.
It was about a photographer, a very perceptive woman, and her very special camera that could see the lingering souls.
The woman went around, travelled the world with the intent to capture something, and along the way, she ‘helped’ the living and dead alike. She was very noble and cruel, befitting the fair judge that she was.
In the end, it was revealed, the woman was neither human nor soul and only something in between and nothing at all.
She was travelling to unravel the truth of herself and her love for the world.
[Who is Wenna Orga?]
The book came to an end with that.)
(Mama gently pushed back Aine’s hair from her face, leaning down to give a kiss on her cheek. “I’m going now, Baby. Go back to sleep, alright? It’s still too early for you to be awake. See you later.”
“...Have a good day, Mama,” Aine slurred out, waving goodbye and falling back onto the bed when the door clicked shut. She hadn’t slept yet, and her hands clutched tight onto the thin blanket. Thinking and thinking, she wondered what she would do today.
Aine should clean when she got out of bed. Yesterday’s dinner was left on the table. But before that, she would fold the bed and blanket first. Then she would head to the bathroom and brush her teeth because Mama said Aine should do it every day, and wash her face.
Then what?
Turning to the side, she spotted her little table with a drawer, where the white and blank papers, and the pencil given to her by an auntie were in. Aine didn’t know what they were for, and she still wasn’t sure if she actually knew, but that auntie told her it was for Aine to ‘draw’ on when Aine had asked.
It smudged and dirtied the white paper, the pencil, and that was what it was supposed to do, but it wasn’t only the paper that got like that, Aine’s hands did as well. She had been a little scared that the smudges wouldn’t go away, but they did when she ran her hands underwater.
Aine had gotten some part of the wall dirty, though, so she spent some time scrubbing it. Over and over, and when she was done, she went back to ‘drawing’, and was careful not to repeat her mistakes again.
There weren’t that many papers, though, so she had to be careful if she didn’t want them to run out quickly. She could play with Mr. Bunny, Aine thought. Or maybe she could try reading, even though she wasn’t very good at it.
In the end, she would need someone here to help, but Mama was working, and she couldn’t go over to Grandma Mu herself because Mama said she shouldn’t. It was dangerous because Aine was young, Mama said, and Aine listened to her.
(She always listened to Mama.)
So Aine kept thinking and thinking, and she was lost in thoughts, and before she knew it, she was asleep again.)
Aine took out her diary (there were many pages, thick and frayed at the edges, wrapped in a brown leather cover.)
The light-colored pages were filled with untrained strokes and brushes of colors. It wasn’t often she opened it out in the open like this, and it could hardly be called a diary when it was filled with nothing but childish doodling. If anything, it would be more appropriate to call it a sketchbook.
Unlike many other things, art was the one thing that Aine had never taken lessons for, so this sketchbook might be personal enough to be something close to a diary after all. Something in between, maybe.
She flipped to a blank page, her pencil tip dragging across in thin and light strokes. After that, more and more lines came, and the white page began to fill and sceneries Aine had never seen before outside of her mind’s eye began to take shape.
Her left hand and its fingers were all smudged with dark graphite, but she didn’t mind because she had fun and the places the woman visited and captured came to life and not only remained in her head.
And Wenna Orga, with her special camera, came to life as well.
Aine wondered if Bayu had found out yet, she didn’t think he would, but he reported his well-being weekly to Blaise, and although Blaise was definitely not going to tattle on Aine, something could still slip out unknowingly.
Bayu would be very angry if he was to find out, but he would be finding out eventually anyway, so Aine didn’t really care if he was to find out not or later.
(Blaise was most definitely very busy with his duties, even if he was the youngest son and was very pampered.)
The second day arrived with a sharp light of the sun peaking from the opening door as a suited man came in with a utility cart. Breakfast was bread and soup, and a carton of milk again.
When Aine finished eating, she stood up and began stretching. To be honest, she felt a little uncomfortable because the timing and order were a little off for her morning routine, but training was training.
The other people mostly did their things as well.
Hisoka was playing with his cards (many houses of cards came crumbling down one after another) and grinning oddly to himself, the man with grey skin was still staring blankly (he let out occasional clicking noises, like a robot), and Hanzo was doing push-ups (he had been doing a lot of things, but right now, it was push-ups).
They were all very peculiar individuals.
Participants came trickling in as the day went by, but Gon and the others hadn’t. She wondered if they were together, and if they were, what were their tasks? Was it anything like hers? Aine thought that they had to have at least fought someone, like she had
(Were they dead?)
When she first arrived at the bottom of the tower, the others had shown signs of altercations as well, especially Hisoka.
They were strong, but Aine worried a little for them anyway. In the end, worrying took nothing from anyone other than herself, and it didn’t really change anything no matter how much she worried. So, she worried simply because she could.
The next person to reach the bottom made it hard to ignore, with her bright and soft coloured clothes, and her big, round hat. The girl looked around for a bit, and her eyes met Aine’s, then she began walking towards Aine’s general direction and settled herself down by the wall.
She seemed to melt slowly, even if the tension around her hadn’t dissipated yet (all the participants Aine had seen walking through the doors had the same reaction as the girl).
It was the second girl Aine had seen since the start of the Exam. The sniper (at least, Aine thought she was) had also seated herself not too far.
The ratio of male to female was really tilted, but Aine remembered seeing something that said men were more likely to take risks than their female counterparts, so maybe that was why? She couldn’t call it postulation because apparently there were experiments that took place.
It just seemed a little funny that half of the human race were more likely to send themselves to an early death because it was something genetically built into them, didn’t it?
Aine thought that it sounded very skewed.
Aine reread the nameless book, which she had now doubted as Wenna, and she doodled some more. It was only when her hand was stained dark with graphite did she place her pencil down and gave the scenery a hard stare.
Did places like this really exist? The world was so big after all, so they ought to, right? Maybe they were only ordinary places that were described with beautiful and embellished words.
They all sounded like pretty places still, and endlessly fascinating. A reverse waterfall with fishes that swam along the streams, a silver forest that never darkened even in the darkest of nights, rainbow clouds that dripped the sweetest of dews, and a phantom island that was in the middle of Nowhere.
Surreal they seemed, and not only that.
Was there really a bird that bestowed eternal happiness to whoever happened to lay eyes on it with colour bluer than even the cerulean ocean and azure sky and feather softer than any others?
Her smudge fingers lightly touched the careful, dark strokes on the white page (it could hardly be called white anymore, as there were more greys than white bits–). Aine wondered how it would look with colours.
It must be very beautiful, wouldn’t it? With all shades of blues, even those that had never existed before, all of those would, the softest of feathers would be dipped into, so that the bird may spread its wings across the sky freely and magnificently.
Bringing eternal happiness to wherever the bluebird willed it.
Aine slept a whole eight hours and rose in the blue hour of the morning, but there was still no sign of the other four. She began her morning stretches, then moved on to her training, like always. When she was finished, she headed to the washroom and showered, reapplying balms and bandages.
Breakfast was served at the same time as yesterday, eight o’clock sharp, with the same sunny-side-up and avocado toast, and a carton of milk. By the time she emptied her plate, there was only a little over an hour left until the end of the third phase.
She spent the last of the time lost in aimless thoughts.
(They took their time, waiting until the last seconds before making their appearances. Like the heroes in those clichés that seemed to do the same all for the dramatics and suspense.
It wasn’t like Aine didn’t enjoy them though.)
The moment he stepped out from the dark, his eyes immediately flitted around wildly, stopping the moment they landed on the girl sitting primly against the wall further away. Aine was staring concentratedly into nothing at all, and her pretty face was left as blank and calm as a still ocean.
A smile quickly stretched the skin of his cheeks as he began to approach her. “Aine!” Gon shouted joyously, flailing his arms around. “You’re here!” he bounced and stopped short just before her, crouching down to her eye level.
She blinked at him. “Gon,” she said, her eyes gave a glance over his shoulder, then focused on him again. “You guys took your time. I was worried.”
He found it funny that the one that had been worried for, was sitting at the bottom of the tower, worrying for them as well. To be completely honest, even though he had said that he believed in her and all of that, he had also been worried.
It was hard not to when Gon had turned his back for only a few minutes, and then when he looked back, Aine had all but vanished.
Gon laughed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “There was a little problem, but we managed to solve it in time!”
He gave something that sounded like an excuse, even though it was the truth.
“It’s because some old man decided to be a pervert at a very stupid time,” Killua chimed in with a click of his tongue, and he sounded slightly off-putted. “And it’s also because of that my skateboard is in such a sorry shape!”
Gon felt a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face as Killua glared at him menacingly. “Ah- ah, well…” he started slowly. “We arrived just in time thanks to your skateboard?”
“You–!”
“Damn brat!” Leorio interrupted, his fingers pinching Killua’s face with vengeance. “Who’re you calling old, huh? ‘Old’, che, says the one with white hair.”
Killua wasn’t looking at him anymore, his head whipped quickly in Leorio’s direction, a mocking smile taking its place on his face, but the effect was lessened a lot when he was nursing his reddened cheek with the palm of his hand.
“I’m talking about you, obviously, old man! Did you not hear that properly? You even got the hearing of an old man!” he snipped sharply. “Also, are you actually acknowledging that you are a pervert now?”
“I am not a pervert–”
There they went again, Gon watched on with a weary smile. Why was it always the two of them, he wondered, tuning out their voices slowly as he focused on another thing.
“We were worried,” he heard Kurapika say, so Gon turned to look. Kurapika was offering his hand for Aine to take, then she did, reaching for it with her left hand, hefting herself up with Kurapika’s support.
(It looked like a practised movement for her, Gon thought Aine seemed really used to it, from the way she gave her hand without batting an eye, and helped herself up softly with it.
She was like one of those princesses from the TV shows Noko liked to watch with sparkling eyes. “I want to be just like that when I grow up!” she would say whimsically, her hands clasped tight. “And you can be the prince, Gon. Then we’d have a big castle where everyone would live together!”
Gon would laugh along, but never reply. Part of it was because he didn’t know exactly what to say, and another was because he didn’t want to be a prince. Gon was going to be a Hunter after all, but he didn’t want to make her sad, so he couldn’t say anything.
He wondered what Noko would say if she was here right now. Would she watch on with eyes as sparkly as they did when she watched those shows? Sure, neither Kurapika nor Aine was royalty, but they more than enough looked the part.
Aine wasn’t a princess but she was definitely prettier than any of them, Gon was sure of that. (Ah, well, in his opinion, Aine was prettier than many things, so that didn’t say much–). And so was Kurapika, he thought, Kurapika was also definitely prettier than any princes on the shows.
Gon had a feeling that Kurapika wouldn’t be happy to hear that even though it was a compliment.)
Aine gave her quiet gratitude, letting go of Kurapika’s hand to adjust the straps of her bag and the yanyue dao on her back before pressing a soft hand to smooth her dress, even though there weren’t any wrinkles or dust.
“I was inside the tower before I knew it,” she said, looking at the both of them.
“Oh,” Gon said. “Did you fall?”
She nodded, and he could picture the scene in his head clearly (her, walking around absentmindedly and accidentally stepping onto a trapdoor. It was very her, Gon felt, even if he hadn’t known her for long).
Gon didn’t know if it was lucky or not, to be surprised like that. It would have been fun if Aine had joined them and gone down Trick Tower together, but since she didn’t, they could later share their own stories as well.
(He would tell her about the watches they had so they could vote, the traps they had to evade and the team match and the 50 hours they had to wait out in the room, then when they had to choose–)
That would be fun.
Kurapika chuckled lightly, “Anyway, it’s good to see that you are unharmed.”
“I’m glad to say the same to you,” she replied, “You were taking a long time, I was worried.”
“We…ran into some trouble.”
Aine blinked. “Gon had said the same things.”
With that, Gon happily launched onto their experience inside the tower.
(It was fun like he thought it would be. Kurapika had that fond look on his face, and Aine listened well and raptly that it made it a whole lot more fun.)
(Then they were outside, and the fresh air and warm sunlight felt just right against his skin that it captured his mouth into a wide grin. The sight was the same as three days ago, with the far and wide, green forest surrounding the strangely shaped mountain and the body of the river snaking its way through the trees.
Gon excitedly ran towards the edge as he had done when he was at the very top of the tower, Killua was right beside him and he could hear Kurapika and Leorio just behind them.
It was the same, but this time, Gon made sure to look back.
Sunlight hit his eyes and he squinted reflectively (it was the same. All the same except–), Aine was standing there this time, not too far away. She wasn’t looking at him (wasn’t looking at any of them, really), but her glassy eyes were bright all the same.
Her hair gilded behind her and it reminded him of the first time he saw her, her pale hand nuzzled in it to keep the stray strands from her face, and the unusual tilt of her lips was a smile that was like droplets-clung flowers after rainfall, under the light-break sky.
Aine looked oddly happy with the scenery.
Gon was very happy to see her there.)
("Your smiles are very pretty, Aine, like flowers!"
He had told her, then she looked at him blankly before she thanked him. “Your smiles are bright and warm like the sun,” she then said in turn, and he rewarded her with that smile of his.
(She thought they were like that because they had always been honest.)
"But, even though they are like the sun," she started quietly, fiddling with the thin red cord around her wrist. “Aine’s eyes won’t hurt..."
Gon tilted his head. “Did you say something?”
She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head.
He hummed, staring back at her. "Alright," he said with a carefree, easy tone.)
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 14: Where Breath Ceases, the Ocean Begins
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
They were granted a three day break, which in and of itself was suspicious, but then the blimp had landed them in the middle of nowhere where the sun seared not unlike if they were on a tropical island and the blue sparkled and stretched further than the horizon, and the island shaped like a crescent moon was curiously surrounded by a graveyard of shipwreck.
“...”
Aine didn’t say anything, but the feeling of chariness veiled as she patted the back of Leorio, who had hunched over after a few boastful and overconfident words, wobble-legged, and sick enough to turn green as he gagged over the edge of the dock, not minding to the constant sea mist spraying his face.
She couldn’t help but wonder, “Why is it that you’re sick, Leorio?”
Leorio had been fine on the storm-rocked ship and on the blimp before. At least, she didn’t think he was. If he had been, then he had recovered very quickly as he always seemed fine every time she saw him.
“Huh? Why?” he managed to say, “I’m tired and stressed– eugh!”
“Oh,” Aine let out. “There, there.”
“Blegh…motion sickness…”
“Ack, disgusting. Can’t you be a little more quiet, old man?” Killua said with a scrunched nose. “You look pathetic, you know.”
That got Leorio to abruptly straighten himself upward, his head whirling around with a glare that quickly crumbled. “Ugh, damn rude brat,” he grumbled.
“What was t–”
“Ah!” Gon cut off, awkwardly laughing, waving his hands as he moved to stand in between them, trying to diffuse the situation before anything exploded. “Come on, Killua. Um. They gave us a three-day break! Wow, though. I wasn’t expecting that at all.”
“It’d be weirder if you did,” Killua said, then, Leorio hunched over once more, hurling out his stomach content enough to make Aine wonder how bad his motion sickness had been, and his face cleared up a little.
“I think I just puked my guts out…” Leorio commented weakly, agonized, hand clutching his side. “Ugh, that hurt.”
“...”
This time, Killua didn’t say anything, but his expression was more than that of mild disgust.
“If it really is as it seems, then it’ll do us good, don’t you think?” Kurapika finally said, his own skepticism clear in his wording, in favor of continuing what Gon had started and ignoring Leorio entirely with a light smile. “The intensity of the Exam really lives up to the rumors after all,” he said, and he walked away, never looking at Leorio from start to finish.
Killua shrugged and followed along, dragging Gon, who was looking at her with a weak smile, away with him. She could see that they went to integrate with the larger crowd, slowly approaching the elderly couple that had greeted them earlier.
There was something about them, Aine thought. Something.
She couldn’t put a name on it, and she only watched with absent-mindedness as she kept brushing on Leorio’s back with a flat palm and hot ray bathing the both of them, and rolls of blue waves faltered onto each other, the sound dominated by seagulls’ loud cries, and she felt a sense of abandonment.
He seemed to get slightly better, even with the pallor that made him look sickly, and she said as she held his arm when he seemed to want to stand, “Leorio should sit down, I think.”
Aine only got a grumble in reply.
Reaching into her bag, she took out the jar filled with rock candies. “Here.”
“...huh?”
“I heard that sugar helps.”
Leorio looked at her, his mouth opened to say something but was quickly started, cut off by a loud, resounding chorus of disbelieving, “What!” making them both look in the direction where the participants had gathered.
Many people had their eyes bulged out, shocked, as they stared heatedly at the elderly couple, jaws hinged wide open.
“...”
Aine frowned.
“What the heck happened–” Leorio started before gagging viscerally behind his hand, his face greening quickly. “Eugh…I shouldn't have turned so fast.”
She looked back at him, her hand running up and down his back and she said consolingly, “There, there.”
Distantly, briefly, Aine wondered if he didn’t have any medicine for this in his suitcase, but she gave him a rock candy, hoping it would somewhat remedy his ailment anyway.
(Because it was so very suspicious, in that loud and unsubtle way that poked and prodded her, unrelenting almost, until it had her in a grip.
Loose as the grip was, Aine became interested anyway.
Big Brother would have scolded her severely if he was here, she was sure.)
Unequivocally suspicious, Aine thought, with certainty this time. Written all over it was a dubious haze that contrasted strongly with the pleasant weather, the day’s bright light and the rolling waves. The wind carried the taste of the sea and the quietness drowned by agitated chatters of flustered voices as the seagulls cried overhead.
“How-many-what now!” Leorio shouted incredulously, and it was the fifth time that he had said that. She didn’t know why he had repeated himself so many times.
“Ten million jenny,” Aine told him once again.
Something in his eyes seemed to die a little more, and it was like he couldn’t fully bring himself to comprehend the digits tallied by the hoteliers. It was a big amount that even respectable members of society with stable jobs would be hesitant to suddenly spend, she understood that, much less carry around in a situation like this.
That was what made the whole situation weird in the first place, in her opinion, making the whole thing very fishy.
Aine thought she had some kind of inkling about this.
“I- yeah, I heard that but, I–” he spluttered, “What! Ten million jenny! A million is already a lot, you know, never mind ten million! What were those old timers going on about! Are you sure you guys heard them correctly?”
The man that had talked to her through the speaker with a scratchy voice, the proctor Lippo, had said that the blimp was supposed to take them to the next phase, she remembered vaguely, maybe, and only a few moments after they had landed, there had been a problem that they could solve by finding some treasures from the shipwrecks.
Purportedly, as it was.
Aine didn’t know why there were treasures to be found within the myriad of shipwrecks when there were many ships here to know that this place was frequently visited, whether those visits were intentional or from being strayed off course. Judiciously thinking, whatever monumental bijoux or wealth-fetching artifacts there were should have all and well been purloined already.
The sunken ships all looked to be years and years old and the question of time could effectively be ruled out but also only more questions left behind. In her opinion, no matter how she went about it, the situation could only spell suspicious.
Moreover…
She blinked slowly, then looked around with a frown, her shoes scuffed the hard metallic floor as she took in the strange vicinity.
“...”
The abandoned warship stood stark against everything else, enormity in its size that was to be expected, crustaceans and mossy weeds decorating the walls, up and up, to walls of the observation's tower, protruding artillery lining the sides and front, barrels long and gray, and imposing with the summer-sojourn-like backdrop, and odd in its placement, gouged within the creak of the crescent-shaped island.
The daylight's glare hit her eyes and Aine involuntarily squinted, and Bayu’s angry and concerned tugs of her hair phantom, his voice faint in her ears.
Still, the abnormality of it all made her heart uncomfortable.
Her frown deepened.
(...Why was–)
Something pressed the space between her brows, and Gon was in front of her when she focused again. He had a curious smile when he said, “You’re frowning, Aine. You do that a lot.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “You’re right.”
Leorio was still panicking, and his voice was frantic as he asked, “Ten. Are you sure you guys heard them correctly? Million?”
“Seems like your memory has worsened with age, old man,” Killua mocked offhandedly, snickering, a smirk in place and hands idly worn in his pockets. “Repeating the same thing so many times.”
He really liked to get a rise out of Leorio, didn't he?
“Yeah, they said ten million jenny,” Gon answered, nodding innocuously, and it was like he had poured salt all over Leorio’s bleeding wound from the way Leorio’s face twisted painedly. Gon perked up as if he had remembered something, “Oh, but–”
“You might as well just drown me in the ocean then!” Leorio exclaimed with a deep scowl, throwing his hands up in frustration, as though he had surrendered something, and managed to inadvertently interrupt Gon with his outrage. “Where in the world am I going to find that much money anyway? If I had that kind of money to throw around in a dingy place in the middle of nowhere like this, I wouldn’t even be here in the first place!”
There was a pause, Leorio heaved deep breaths as his shoulders fell and rose, and the distant sound of water splashing reached her ears, along with the rumpus caused by the over-enthused participants.
“If you had let Gon finish what he was going to say, Leorio,” Kurapika sighed deeply, saying with an exasperated tone as he directed a flat stare at Leorio, “...then you would have known that we have been given a solution for this.”
“...Oh,” Leorio blinked, turning his head towards Gon, then asked, blankly, “Is that right?”
“Yeah,” Gon answered, nodding, “They said we can pay them by finding some treasure from the shipwreck instead if we don’t have enough money!”
“...Oh,” Leorio repeated, then, as if there was a whole shift in his head, he smiled and loosened his tie, taking off his suit jacket before he threw it over his shoulder. “That’s why those guys started jumping into the ocean, I thought they had gone crazy. Jeez,” he said. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you just start with that? What are we waiting for then, let’s go! If we don’t hurry then there won’t be any treasure left!”
And then he ran off, not unlike how an excited child would.
“...”
Aine stared after Leorio’s retreating figure. “A very simple person, definitely,” she said, and she didn’t think that there were other ways to describe him more correctly than this.
“...Stupid,” she heard Killua muttering as Kurapika sighed again.
Simple, foolhardy, good-natured Leorio.
(Were those good traits for a doctor to have?)
Her friend.
She liked him.
Gon only laughed brightly. “We should follow him!”
“Oh,” he heard Aine say, her head nodding slightly as if in agreement with herself, like she had just remembered something, as she stared down at the blue ocean. “Right.”
Curious, Kurapika began approaching her, and before he could call out to her, the boards creaking as he got closer, she turned around with a tilt.
“Aine,” he greeted with a smile.
“Kurapika,” she blinked slowly. “Hello.”
“I thought you were with Gon and Killua,” he commented, looking around to make sure that statement held true. Though, even if he couldn’t see the two boys, he was sure he would still be able to hear them if they were nearby.
“I was.”
“‘Was’?” Kurapika probed.
“They went for a dive,” she answered, ambling on, her eyes keen as they walked past rubble and remains, no doubt searching for some trinkets of jewels and valuables, but it was more of a passing thing than anything, seeming to have no expectation for any findings.
That made sense, Kurapika supposed, in an open space like this, it was hard to hope for anything with even a hint of lucre visible to be left untouched or unlooted. It would be weird if it was otherwise, in a sense, they had started quite late compared to other participants, and the only other people who’d visit a place like this were those who strayed or simple, sticky-handed rovers.
“Oh,” he blinked, and he began following her trek. “What made you stay behind?”
‘Stay behind,’ was a loose term.
He didn’t think it was likely for Gon to have drawn Aine with him, only to leave her behind, but the possibility of her simply waltzing off was also very high. Kurapika imagined if that did happen, she wouldn’t have even noticed until it was too late. It had happened before after all, several times actually now that he was counting.
Weariness and worry were a well-worn thing, he thought, but also something else entirely, simultaneously novel and old.
(He didn’t know exactly where to place it.)
Aine stopped in her place, and turned to him, seeming to be evaluating something in her head, then, “I can’t swim, I don’t think,” came her answer in a rather blasé expression. Her pococurante tone presented as it ever was as she balanced on a platform of wood to another, water-clogged and rotting quickly with time. In fact, he could see a little of them chipping away with every step she took, crumpling slightly underneath her.
“I’m sorry?” he found himself saying before he even knew if he had fully comprehended her words, halting in his place, watching as she blithely stepped onto a brittle railing of the ship they had just stepped on.
Dangerously almost, he could say, but that would only be if Aine hadn’t been jesting when she had cast that bit of detail about herself. Then, not a moment after, Kurapika thought, chidingly, that of course she had meant it. This was Aine he was thinking of. He was almost near certain that everything she said, had said, and would say, no matter how idiosyncratic they seemed to be, would always be what she meant.
With that being the case, Kurapika felt his body tensed minutely as he began moving again, his fingers twitching rigidly, as if they had been expecting her to welter over the edge any second now, tumbling into the deep water helplessly. And that, in itself, was a ridiculously absurd thing, in his opinion, as Aine's movement seemed to remind him of the nimbleness of a cat the longer he watched her.
“But maybe I can, after all,” she continued, fully looking away from him now.
The back facing him was thin and her hair was long and fair, swaying like gentle wisteria in the wind, pooled onto her bag before falling again as she took one step after the other, and he imagined if she had not left her polearm behind, an unexpected thing, the strands would have tangled around it like soft vines.
Unconsciously, he reached out, grasping onto her arm, corralling it in a loose hold (red braided strings and polished stone and pale wrist underneath his palm). Aine stopped and turned to look at him. She had this blank look on her face, and Kurapika felt that he might be more surprised, by his own action, no less, than she had been.
(There was a faint lingering scent of lavender in her wake.)
He wondered distantly how she always seemed to be so unimpressed even by the most abrupt turn of events. “Can you or can’t you?” Kurapika asked, wearily some might say, exasperated maybe, but he would say that he was only being unaskingly and unnecessarily fretful.
“I’ll have to see first,” she said evenly.
“Then I’ll have to hope it’ll be on your own terms when you find out,” he told Aine with a frown.
He certainly didn’t want her to drown.
She blinked, then nodded, but her words greatly contradicted her gesture, her gaze indiscernible. “We won’t know that though,” Aine said, and that seemed to be it for the topic, as she moved on. “Have you yet found anything?” she asked. “Contrary to Leorio's worry, there seem to be plenty of baubles to filch from the shipwrecks.”
Kurapika stilled for a moment before shaking his head.. “I have not, no,” he answered her honestly, loosening his hold on her before letting go entirely. “I’m not as inclined to take a dip into the water as the others,” he admitted with a chuckle, recalling vividly the scene he just walked past, of the many adults who looked not unlike children. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Oh,” Aine said, nodding, “I see.”
He peered around. “I take it that you haven’t found anything yet either?”
Then, in a non sequitur (something very in line with her, a part of him added, and he should be used to it by now), her head gave a slight tilt, and she said, “Mm. I could’ve paid, but I think this is another test.”
“...?”
“Doesn’t Kurapika think so as well?” she asked him. “But then, I might be speculating too much. Bayu said that I am either with no thoughts or with too much at once. It was quite a rude comment, I was told, so he got chided for it.”
“...”
Kurapika didn't think that he was in agreement with the view on whatever was going on inside her head, but he felt the sentiment might have fallen perfectly well with her words, when she spoke and when she didn’t. Though, too little or too much, her words seemed to always remain slightly cryptic on both ends, but with the right context, he was sure he would be much better at understanding her.
He was bewildered, he would say, if someone were to ask him what he was feeling at the moment, and that he wasn’t sure which bit he should be reacting to. (She had mentioned the name before, he remembered faintly, on their way to Dolle Harbor, but who exactly was Bayu?)
In the end, he decided to first focus on her question. “I do think that it is suspicious,” he said. “But since there’s little else we can do besides going along with the task at hand, I think that it’s what we should center our attention on for now. Of course, we still need to keep an eye out and remain vigilant.”
At that, she nodded in a way that could be considered endearing. “Oh, on the qui vive,” she said. “Then, we should– oh.”
Kurapika felt his heart skip, his hand reaching out only to catch empty air.
And then there was a muted clatter that he barely had a mind to pay attention to and a loud splash that made him quickly tossed his bag to the side, after that, his tabard, his body halfway over the railing. And the forsaken monkey, the culprit to the dawning mess, simply scratched its head innocuously with gaudy-ringed fingers, having stolen the place Aine had previously stood, as it stared at him.
“Aine!”
There was a sound in her ears, dull and cocooned. It all sounded much like a recalled dream, looking over to a faraway place.
She opened her eyes.
Her hair swirled around her like something alive, and bubbles drifted upward like an reverse rain shower, brushing her face with a ticklish touch before leaving. Everything moved with syrupy patience in the transparent air that cast a blue-green glow, cool as glass against her skin, tender and puckered like a goose’s.
So this is what it was like, was her one slow thought, and another was, What now?
It was at that time where something grabbed a hold of her and pulled her away with a glint of golden silk.
“I am able to swim after all, I think.” Aine, rather nonchalantly, remarked as the first thing she did when they surfaced again, with her still in his arms.
She neither clung nor trash around even when she had been fully submerged like what would have been expected from a person who, self-proclaimed, couldn’t swim. That might have been because he wasn’t even a second away from her, he reasoned, though it went flat somewhere.
“The buoyancy of the human body is quite something. As well as the salinity of the ocean.”
“...”
Her tone was even and there was nary a fluctuation in her expression, though, it was more accurate to say that there was none at all. Despite the droplets of water clinging to her eyelashes and damp hair strands sticking to her face and neck and everything else, even onto him, she still managed to look so impossibly composed.
Though, her eyes were slightly red from the water and there was a faint flush on her pale cheeks.
“Oh, right,” she said when they finally situated themselves on a nearby plank of wood, and they were sodden, and Kurapika felt strangely tired. Then, with a fleeting smile that had her glassy eyes curved and pink lips curled, Aine said, taking his hand in hers, and it all felt like déjà vu to him, “Thank you for helping me, Kurapika. It seems that I often trouble you.”
True as it was that she was normally not unlike a living doll, right now, she was very much like a spring flower.
(Had she even gathered that she could have drowned just now, he wondered wryly.)
As quickly as it came, her smile was also gone in a blink of an eye.
Honestly, Kurapika didn’t know what to say, so he swallowed dryly, sea water trickled down his body and his clothes sticking to his skin uncomfortably as he pushed his hair away from his face, and he could only settle with, “...It’s nothing. You’re welcome, Aine. In the first place, it hadn’t even been your fault that you fell into the water.”
(It felt like a defeat, somehow, even though there was nothing that should have made him feel that way.)
(They parted way not too long after, and Aine supposed, as she watched Kurapika ambled away towards the ship with an insignia that was marked in gold, that he seemed like a possessed person with that shaken, slacked look in his eyes. He had been dismissive at best, and incoherent at worst as he bid her farewell, and she absently wondered what was wrong.
Kurapika had looked perturbed, she thought back, and him being all sodden had made his appearance even more pitiful than she believed he would have liked. She didn’t think he liked to be seen as even remotely pitiful at all.
But, Aine supposed, not many wanted that. She couldn’t imagine that being the case, at least. If anything, she assumed from past experiences that ‘pity’ seemed to be one of the most hated things one could receive.
“...”
With the taste of the ocean on her lips and her hair soppy still with salt water as she wrenched it like a wet rag, her dress weighing down on her, Aine looked on for a little more before she turned her heels and began walking away as well.)
Notes:
I had decided to include the extra phase from the 1999 version!
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter 15: Always Striking, Always Sparking
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was a figurine she had found, tucked away in a wreckage in one of the ships further away from the rest. Aine had walked down creaky stairs and walked through half-hinged doors, past many beds and white bones, picking up small bijoux and trinkets before it had caught the light in her eyes, casting a multitude of colors onto its surroundings.
The figurine felt smooth in her hand, ostensibly brittle, filling the space on her palm, and Aine eyed it with a sense of wonder in her heart.
With flowing hair and tantalizing features, the woman seemed to be smiling enticingly at her, her arms outstretched and waiting, and her elegant tail arched, curling slightly to one side.
Somehow, she almost looked alive.
Undoubtedly, everything about it was beautiful. Both the figure that had life breathed into, and the craftsmanship that was the progenitor.
“...How pretty.”
(How weird.)
Perfect and unblemished, Aine observed and frowned, her thumb running on the smooth and translucent surface.
A siren made of sea glass.
(How very weird.)
(It was still whole.)
It was the craft of Ivan Aideen Dalí, she knew, remembering vividly the stern-faced man whose calloused hands were with a distinctive burnt spot on his left ring finger that wrapped itself around the base in a thin band and whose creased skin was mottled with age.
He wasn’t really stern though, or harsh, and neither was he unpleasant.
In fact, he had been very kind with every smile he had tried in her presence, and very quiet, like he hadn’t ever known how to properly interact, with neither words, nor facial expressions, nor movement of his body.
(Come to think of, he was almost akin to a statue.)
Aine supposed she had known that even before she met him. After all, it was always his wife, Angéla Izei Dalí, who Ivan Aideen Dalí brought to every event he attended, who talked. Aine also supposed that was why he was called an arrogant and toffee-nosed man sometimes, some people found it offensive to be ignored after trying to strike up a conversation, a hope for connections.
Though, it wasn’t that that trait of him ever discouraged more attempts, some even became more motivated from the silent reception what she had seen.
But that made sense.
The thing was that, really, the crux of the matter was never him. It wasn’t for his deplorable communication proficiency that made people flocked over him, but certainly, it was his immense flair for artistry, his crafts, that made him incredibly hard to ignore.
(In a place like Lerose, especially in Wathhythe De Willo, the matter of beauty held many more values than many things.)
The point was, Aine thought with her gaze locked with the sea glass siren’s beckoning one, that she ought to be able to recognize a craft of his when there had been a whole collection and more displayed throughout the many winding halls of the Ruiz's chateau.
(Another thing was, something about the figurine just strongly reminded her of him, and it wasn’t really something tangible.)
(In a way, Ivan Aideen Dalí’s unfortunate situation truly paralleled Laik's. Except, there was one major difference, and that one the major difference, as one was perceived as haughty and the other was indubitably haughty, was that one couldn’t communicate properly and the other wouldn’t.
That was also most certainly why Bayu said Laik was a bad influence. In Aine’s opinion, she hadn’t changed all that much since she became friends with Laik, so that much of a bad influence he couldn’t be.
More than that, she actually thought that he had been a very good friend to her.)
“Oh! There you are! Hi, Aine,” Gon smiled, walking close then made a grab for her hand, and she let him. “You know, I think that maybe we should hold hands all the time from now on. You always disappear whenever I look away.”
“Hello, Gon,” she said. “I don’t think holding hands all the time is possible.”
He blinked blankly once, and he mulled with a light frown that made it seemed as though he was considering something serious, instead of the topic at hand. “Hmm…you’re right. But we can still try!” was his bright reply. “Right?”
Finding no fault in his words, Aine offered a nod.
“You two are so weird, you know that?” Killua remarked with a scrunched face, hands in his pockets as he approached, walking up from behind Gon. If possible, his hair looked to be even paler under the sun, as white as snow, and his skin flushed the lightest of pink, and Aine wondered absently if it was from exertion or the beginning of a sunburn. “Weirdos.”
(“Killua!” Gon greeted, then blinked, looking slightly puzzled. “I thought you wanted to wait by the hotel owners.”
“I did, but you were taking forever.”
Scratching the side of his face, Gon asked, “I wasn't gone for that long, was I?
“You were,” Killua told him irritatedly. “Almost thirty minutes. Why’d it take you so long anyway?”
“It’s because Aine’s scent changed!”
“...her scent?”
“Mm! She smells like the sea now.”
“She looks like she drowned in one.”
“I fell into one, that’s why.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re all wet!”
Aine wondered what he thought happened.
“...First, Leorio’s cologne, now this. Gon, are you part dog or something?”
"Ehehe."
“That wasn’t a compliment, stupid.”)
Killua couldn’t understand what was so interesting about this stony girl whose facial muscles must’ve been dead for all he knew. He honestly didn’t think that Gon and him were seeing the same thing when Gon had told him she was ‘cute and funny’.
He gave Aine a hard, scrutinizing stare.
She was turned away from him right now, her back covered with long pale hair that was still soppy from sea water, dripping down carelessly onto the metal flooring of the ship. It would have soaked her white dress had the dress not been thoroughly soaked already, he thought, then he wasn’t sure if that was the better option or not.
It would definitely take longer for her to dry than him and Gon, who could have been said to already be dried up by the hot sunlight beating down on them. Killua might even get a sunburn at this rate, maybe even blisters from how strong the tropical sun was…
“...” he made a face at the off-putting thought.
“What’s wrong, Killua?”
Hearing that, he turned to look at Gon, who probably never had experienced the pain of sunburn before from the way his whole being seemed to scream of having spent his entire life under the sun. Feeling unreasonably ticked off, Killua reached his hand out and pinched Gon’s cheek, distorting that bright smile on his face.
“Uwua– What are you doing, Killua?” was what he assumed from Gon’s slurred words. When he saw how Gon had still looked so clueless and unconcerned about his sudden, unexplained mistreatment, Killua couldn’t help but pinched harder. “Uh, Killua? Ow, ow, Killua!”
“...hah.”
It wasn’t like he wanted to grow up under the scorching sun. His skin was coated with sweat and stickiness and he was already hating it a little, not to mention the constant risk of painful sunburns. He highly doubted that he would be able to build a tolerance against it anyway, but despite that, Killua still found himself slightly annoyed.
“Uu…what was that for?” Gon pouted childishly, cupping his face and rubbed his palms onto it as if to soothe the pain. “That hurt, jeez.”
Killua waited a bit before answering. “Just felt like it,” he wound up saying.
“What? That’s not a good reason, you know.”
He shrugged.
Honestly, Killua wouldn’t be surprised if Gon also played in some forest and befriended its inhabitants like some princess from those boring shows about ‘one true love’ that every young girl supposedly dream of. He wanted to argue that it wasn’t true, but even Alluka had been weirdly sparkly eyed when he read those stories for her, and many more times after that.
Thankfully, it wasn’t to the degree that would have him panicking. Killua really wouldn’t know what to do if she suddenly and ridiculously said that she fell in love with some guy she had only seen once, not even having a word or two exchanged either.
No matter, he would do his best to dissuade her if that time ever came. He really hoped it wouldn’t.
“Aine,” he heard Gon say, and when Killua looked behind him, she was only a few steps away, stopping in front of Gon, standing just beside Killua. “Did you get a room?” Gon asked.
She nodded, her hair still wet, clumping together like a bundle of cotton.
“Have you and Killua?” she asked, although it was a question of interest, her tone was entirely too bland and unwavering, completely negating whatever softness her voice had, and there was only a minuscule of a shift in her expression.
This girl?
Funny?
Killua snorted quietly to himself.
Yeah, right.
Aine didn’t know why, but she felt that Killua had been looking at her as if he was an unwilling, disinterested student studying an unwanted subject, despite it being out of his own volition that he was doing so, and she wondered what he wanted from her.
She asked him “What is it?” and he pretended to not hear her and turned his gaze away, so she didn’t ask again.
Killua was a little weird sometimes, she thought.
(Or was he the weird one…?
No, Killua shook his head to dispel that ridiculous idea, that couldn’t be it. There was no way. Since there wasn’t something wrong with him, it had to be Gon’s sense of humor. It must’ve been broken, that was why he was so weird.)
After she had flitted around her assigned room for some time, exploring the neither small nor spacious place, after she cleaned up herself with a shower, the faint, clinging smell of sea-salt water ebbing away before long, and after the sun slowly beginning to start setting, Aine concluded that this twin-bedroom would only be accommodating her for the next three days.
The fact that she didn’t have a roommate, unlike what seemed to be the trend and cause of incessant commotion, should be kept quiet, she supposed distantly.
Not only because it would be prudent to do so after seeing the chaos ensuing clumsily and disorderly with her own eyes as many cramped and dashed around the hallways, to and fro, like desperate ants fleeing a disturbed nest with panicked expressions, but also because Aine didn’t know why this information would be important to other people.
A part of her had wondered what they would have done with who was unfortunate enough not to fetch anything valuable from the graveyard of shipwrecks, but it appeared that was a needless thinking. What would happen if everyone didn’t get a room? Being thrown into the ocean, being left camped outside on the crescent island?
Everyone had gotten a ‘B-class’ room from the hoteliers, all twin bedrooms from what she had spied, but she couldn’t help musing that if there even were other classes than B-class. After all, a chestful of cannonballs seemed to be equal to a chest full of treasures in their eyes. When even the seaglass figure that could be invaluable to the collectors as it was one of Aideen’s earlier pieces had only amounted to a b-class room, Aine could only wonder what would get someone an A-class room.
The full set of the Violet Bloom perhaps, or the Timeless Grace Collection? Or did it have to be something on par with the Lost Treasure Series? Those were valuable, she thought, almost priceless, if what was written in Arté et Éclat was to be believed.
It was a big name magazine, and…
“...”
She kept on wondering for some time more.
Ashleigh bustled into the drawing room with elegant steps despite the white cast that molded over her right leg and a prim smile, straining on her pale, freckled cheeks that eased into a looser thing when she met eyes with Aine before melting off entirely into something wet and pitiful. Pathetic but by no means any less pretty with her countenance.
“Mon chouchou,” she cried, seeming enthused as she fluttered over, coppery curls bouncing. “Oh, you simply must comfort me!”
“Good morning, Ashleigh,” Aine greeted demurely, placing her teacup down before something unwanted could happen. It clanged in the same beat that Ashleigh reached her and sat down, sidling close enough that their arms pressed into one another, but as if that wasn’t enough, Ashleigh leaned down until her hair tangled with Aine’s. “Was it not just a sprain after all?”
“Hardly,” Ashleigh answered, and Aine could feel the grip around her arm tightening ever so slightly in a clear indication that the temper of Ashleigh was a quick rising thing. “If at all. They hurried me to the nurse despite my protesting, wasting my precious time. And what do you know– nothing was wrong, absolutely nothing! Yet they still insisted on this hindering, godforsaken cast. How ridiculous, I say!”
Aine hummed compliantly, her free hand minding a new porcelain that had exactly a half-spoon of sugar dissolving within the three-quarter-filled cup. As it was, Darjeeling was what was served today with a platter of fruits that had been left untouched since it was placed.
Once finished, she said, patting Ashleigh’s hand, “There, there.”
“Chouchou…” Ashleigh sniffled histrionically, sounding heartened.
“They’re being cautious because they are worried about you, I assume.”
Ashleigh shook her head. “Oh, yes, I know they’re worried, I'm barely able to get away from them. That doesn’t bother me more than normal, but,” pausing, Ashleigh sat up, her back straightened properly, and she turned to Aine, her deep green eyes puzzlingly aggrieved as she took Aine’s hands in hers. “Hear this, chouchou, they forbade me from further practicing! At least, for a few days! Isn’t that just much too cruel when I am to be on stage in a few weeks' time?”
“Oh,” Aine said, feeling herself frowning, unsure of what to say as Ashleigh lifted the porcelain with an elegant hand and took a sip of the tea, after which she gave Aine her heartened thanks with apple-red cheeks and a delicate smile.
Something similar happened to her before, when she first started her lesson, and Saskia had made her halt from further recklessness by temporarily suspending Aine from practicing outside of their lesson. She had also felt quite troubled then. Only, Aine had simply adhered to her tutor’s words before Saskia let her resume her own practice like before, with a light reprimanding and few words of caution.
Normally, Aine would say ‘Well, Ashleigh will have to endure for a bit then. Be good,’ but that wasn’t comforting, was it? Ashleigh wanted Aine to comfort her, so she should most likely refrain from saying things like that for now.
Puzzled, her frown only deepened before she quietly clapped her hands together as she remembered. “Was there not a play you wanted to see that will be performed at Théâtre de l'Étoile, Sunday of next week?” Aine asked probingly.
“...A play, you say?” Ashleigh blinked, then her eyes widened slightly, gleaning with recollection. “Yes, Gallery of the Deep Sea. That’s right. The premiere of it, actually. It painted nearly the entire section of the August’s Most Anticipated in Arté et Éclat! The plot interested me greatly, and the thespians are definitely nothing to be less than impressed at either. With Ismael Olev, Sofia Aliyev and Marianne Anand as leads, and Lidiya Paquet, Fabian Joubert, and other renowned names as the supporting cast. All prestigious figures, you see. Not to forget the director, M. Iseal–”
(Even when all else failed as a distraction with Ashleigh, Aine believed that this never would.)
The production cost must have been quite exorbitant, was Aine’s thought, with her interest piqued. Like Ashleigh, Aine also heard about the play before (though she couldn’t say that she was as informed as the play enthusiast Ashleigh). If not from the posters and advertisement plastering within the city, then it would be from the drama department of Atelais.
A story of a lone girl stranded in an otherworldly gallery.
Simply put, Gallery of the Deep Sea was the talk of the town.
When reticence slowly return and Ashleigh fell silent again, Aine continued, “Speaking of, Aunt Yuka told me last I saw her that she would be hosting a viewing of her Five Sempiternal of Live project some time in the near future, in Jappon, Hanamaki, that I was reminded of when I happened to see the news being mentioned in Arté et Éclat.”
“...Lady Hashiguchi’s exhibition?” Ashleigh began, eyes lighting up keenly, any remainder of her leaden dismay dissipating like a foggy morning as the sun rose and took its place in the sky. “Oh, yes, I happened upon that piece of news as well! Exciting, isn’t it? It has been quite long since her last exhibition. Two springs ago, if I remember correctly. I can only hope to see such splendor once again this year.”
She sighed admiringly, full of dreams and longing, no doubt in the midst of recalling the last exhibition by Yuka.
“Would Ashleigh mind accompanying me, then?” Aine asked.
Looking at her with wide, owlish eyes, Ashleigh said, “...Do you mean it?”
Aine frowned lightly as she tilted her head. “Why would I have asked if I didn’t?”
She had an embrace full of Ashleigh within a beat, arms that were lean and reedy thrown over her shoulders and wrapped around her neck and a body that was warm and bigger than hers draped Aine’s front affectionately. Much unlike many others, Ashleigh was very physically affectionate, Aine was reminded.
Then, absently, she thought that the Sir and Lady Dominiuez must have been busy to have elicited such a reaction from her.
“Truly?” pulling back, she asked, a welling energy that began to spill all over. Her dark green eyes gleamed wetly, almost like fine-cut gems, and her pale, freckled cheeks flush as if raw excitement had veered her whole. “To both the play and the exhibition?”
Her coppery curls were nearly as untamed her emotions, it looked to Aine, like the smell of jasmine that came with her.
Aine nodded. “Mm,” she said. “When I can, I’ll see plays and visit exhibitions and museums with you.”
“Oh, mon chouchou, you are the sweetest!” Ashleigh said happily, clinging onto Aine within the same beat.
(Ashleigh could be as mercurial as the ocean sometimes, Aine thought, patting her back gently.)
There was an odd number of participants left, she was reminded as she stepped outside the room, the door clicking shut and locked with a twist of the dull-sheened key, the sounds of footsteps almost thundering in their harried ways from down the long hallway, and urgent requests and unhurried rejections mingled into noisy din that would surely overpowered the shore-lapping ocean waves if she was any closer.
“...”
A breath, then, though where to, she wasn’t sure, Aine began walking anyway. She supposed with an idleness that her end-goal should be the canteen, if there was one, given that dinnertime was approaching surely as the watery sunset lowered stilly into the horizon.
Keeping her head high and sight straight, she wandered, letting the usual mindlessness overtake her like a current, thoughts submerging under, motley and uniform.
Vividly, orange-red light poured and bathed the metal-paneled walls and floors of the ship, and the scenery remained nigh unchanging no matter how many steps and turns she took. The monotonous narrow pathways that could be considered winding, and picturesque view of the open ocean as far as the eye saw to the yonder beyond.
Aine wouldn’t say that it was plain-feature or unlovely though, when it looked to be something out of a painting she might chanced upon in the spacious gallery of Atelais. An oil painting perhaps, with bumpy textures and a dreary feel and vibrant colors. In fact, it might even find its way into her diary by the end of the night.
After all, many things ended up there.
(Even her mother’s ribbon, pressed between the worn and frayed pages like a mark, all embroidered in gold thread and silk-felt on her skin.)
Even though Aine had intended to find the canteen, she somehow ended up finding herself at the top of the observation tower before she knew it.
The sky was now without the sun, and the stars the brightest things beyond reach. And they were, perhaps, even brighter than she had ever seen them, the silver-white light falling between the gaps of her fingers. Enough to brighten the blanket of sky into the darkest of midnight blue instead of the pitch black and unmarred thing she was used to.
She supposed it made sense, given how far out they were.
At least, Aine thought that they were far away.
(She wouldn’t know that though.)
“...The stars are bright,” she said, breaking into the night, and her voice was swallowed by the wind and the sound of crashing waves. Feeling something welling inside her, she pulled her legs close, her knees felt bony and hard against her face.
Offshore, an ashen haze, filmy and distant, rose high and brought forth the smell of burning wood, mingled faintly with the ocean’s brine, consuming remnants of the ocean itself as something withered away with orange fire and dancing heat.
Aine closed her eyes.
It was quiet.
(“Isn’t it lonely?”
“...is it, though?”)
“Why do you keep coming here?”
Valerie had questioned one evening where the air had been cold against Aine’s skin, hazy white smoke puffed out from between her lips, and Aine scrunched her nose slightly as the wind steadily carried by her the bitter smell of cigarettes, heavy despite the open space, and only thickened even more as Valerie plowed through them, one after another.
“I want to see the stars,” Aine told her.
Valerie only hummed before she took a breath and the tip of the cigarette fizzled away, eaten by the fulgent orange ember into gray ashes. She held the stick carelessly between her long fingers, careless enough that, with a flick of harsh wind, it might tumble from her, even though Valerie acted as though they were her lifeline.
Aine watched from the doorway without stepping over the threshold at Valerie who had her back slightly arched as she leaned onto the railing, and her long legs stretched, like something out of a magazine.
“It’s bad for you,” Aine said to her, an obvious thing, but she couldn’t help herself, and Valerie only gave her a laugh after not even a second had passed by, like an act of ridicule. So Aine let herself frown, not because she was afforded, but because of the scratchy-throat sound that reached her ears.
“I know, I know,” Valerie waved dismissively, taking a long, slow drag of her cigarette, as if to spite, before blowing out white rings from her puckered lips, looking at Aine intently.
They had first met just a handful of nights ago, on this very same place, the balcony of the west annex of Atelais. Just five corridors down and some from the training rooms the academy accommodated them with outside of school hours.
(Aine wouldn’t say that she had gotten lost per se, but more so that she had been trying to map down the place that might even be larger than Gu Long. And it was the property of one person, too, so she couldn’t help thinking how peculiar and fascinating it was.)
“A bit too late to stop now, my lungs’ probably already fucked six ways to Sunday anyway,” she remarked humorously with a derisive morbidness.
The perspiration streaking Valerie made it so that her dark skin seemed to almost glow silver under the moonlight, tracing from the root of her hair that was nearly untamed as loose brown curls sprung forth from the slipping bun behind her head, to the bony limbs of hers.
“You know, you bothered coming all the way up here, but you never step out of the doorway,” Valerie remarked flippantly, flicking the burnt part of her cigarette away. An unfeeling grin showing her teeth, two of them crooked, long canines like that of a wolf’s, and her apple-green eyes, dulled and small, narrowed into a not-smile. “You scared I’d bite, little doll?”
Aine shook her head.
“The smell clings easily and stubbornly,” she answered, recalling the first time she went home after meeting Valerie and Bayu’s cold look as he annoyedly asked her who it was, before he dragged her off to the bathroom after he had gotten his answer, angrily demanded her to quickly get rid of the unbearably sharp, ugly smell.
(Then, she recalled the time when Bayu was never without the smell of bitter smoke and pungent ash, so strong that, sometimes, Aine’s nose felt burnt with an acrid taste on her tongue as she observed the black presses littering boldly and angrily along Bayu’s pale skin like unwanted birthmarks.
That uncle was really hateful, she thought, and she didn’t quite remember how many times she had thought so.
So hateful that, even when he laid quiet, (quieter than he had ever been in his life, she reckoned, since he seemed to love his ear-grating voice more than anyone else, that voice that was as annoying as a buzzing of a fly, as red pooled under him and his pants stained) she still–)
“It’s unpleasant, I think,” Aine continued. “Odiously fetid.”
Valeria stilled for a moment, looking at her with an indiscernible look in her eyes. Then, she whistled, pressing her cigarette onto the railing, snuffing out the light and stuffing the leftover into the pack she pulled from her woolen outer.
“Big, honest words you got with you,” she said with a tone, haughty, maybe, and a cold expression shaky enough for Aine to know that Valerie was having a hard time holding onto, before Valerie crackled freely, the sound big and unbound, as though humored by a feat unknown to Aine.
Aine tilted her head to the side in her brief thinking, before righting it again. Was she not supposed to answer when being asked? Aine wasn’t scared of Valerie after all, so it would be good for her to correct the assumption before something strained unwittingly. “If Stéri Orozco says so,” she settled accordingly.
Valerie’s unbridled laughter was cut abruptly by her choking, followed by a violent bout of coughing that made her rapt her fist onto her chest. “Ah. Fuck,” she cussed, her tongue stuck out and her face soured. “What’s with the sudden title? Tell me you were saying it sarcastically,” her shoulders gave a disgusted shake.
“I wasn't. Eliette told me it’s not good to call you by your name because you're an étoile,” Aine said. “But it doesn’t seem that you like that, Stéri. You look like you have swallowed a lemon.”
Étoile.
That was what Valerie had been called by Eliette, but, to be honest, Aine didn’t quite yet understand the intricate ongoing structure the academy was running on. She had never been to a school before and Atelais seemed so very complex.
(She wondered if every school was like this.)
Though, with time, she should be able to come to a better understanding eventually. There were many things for her to learn after all (numerous, and perhaps uncountable), so if she stopped here, how would she ever see the world?
“No shit, I don’t.”
Valerie scowled harshly, her long legs taking bigger strides than Aine’s ever had, one after another until she was well in front of Aine, towering as her silhouette shadowed Aine from the moon and stars. The smell of smoke she carried with her was heavy and pungent, and her green eyes were dark and without a glint as Valerie looked at her, hunched over her overbearingly.
“I’m the one who has a say in what you’ll call me, not some Eliette. So quit it,” she said, and it was thickly demanding. “‘Kay?”
Aine stared at her for a little, then agreed softly. “Alright,” she gave compliantly with a nod. If that was what the person herself preferred, Aine wouldn’t argue against it. She wondered if she would get chastised by the breach of etiquette.
“Good,” Valerie said. “Now, what do you say?”
Aine humored her, “Valerie.” then, remembering the ire so clear on Valerie, she said, “It’s not some Eliette. Class president Parish, Eliette Parish. She had only told me the propriety expected, Valerie shouldn’t be irked at her.”
Valerie had already lost all interest with the topic, though, seeming to have forgotten about Eliette as well, despite her having been mentioned just before.
No matter, Aine supposed.
Notes:
Disclaimer, I have no knowledge of art or anything art-adjacent, and this goes for all forms of art. All forms. Just for future reference.
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter 16: A Moon-soaked Promenade; A Sun-soaked Deck; A Blue-soaked Certainty
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
There was a smell of ash clinging on him. Not like the bitter smell of cigarette smoke, but of burning firewood.
“Kurapika,” Aine said, looking up at him, her balance steadied again. “Thank you.”
(It was the same smell.)
He blinked the surprise away from his eyes, his hold loosening around her arm, before he let go entirely.
“Aine…?” Kurapika said, staring at her confusedly, then at their surroundings, a dreary hallway with lighting almost as dim as the ocean. “I haven’t seen you since this afternoon,” he finished with a quiet voice, looking at her again.
She only nodded. “You sound worn-out, Kurapika.”
“Oh,” he said, lowering his lashes as he gave a lacking smile. “I do feel a little…worn-out, right now, so I suppose you’re not wrong with your assessment.”
“You should head to bed, then,” her head pressed into a habitual bow. “Have a good night.”
It didn’t come as a surprise that he was tired, and Aine didn’t think that the majority of the people here weren't of the same mind. Although, she thought, Kurapika’s weariness seemed to stem from elsewhere.
She didn’t know what, though, only that it might be of the same hoarse-voice kind Bayu had.
Where the bone-deep weariness never came from the split brows and lips or torn, bloody skin that was bruised like an overripe fruit from the uncle with the temperament of a child, but instead from the occasion of some particularly ornery arguments with an overly weak-willed Auntie Cai that had him mulled in a sullen silence, strewn away broodily like a gurgling pot of chili-pepper oil on the verge of spillage.
(And it spilled, always.
In a loud, spectacular way that had Aine looking at him questioningly, light with disapproval, at the limb and few that would be rendered for the next few weeks or so, and the amount of red that colored his pale skin, and clotted underneath.
“Are you satisfied?” she asked Bayu, once. Twice, maybe.
He was silent for a while, and she didn’t think she would get an answer. She hadn’t expected one either, to be honest.
But it came anyway. “Yeah,” was what he had said, voice graveled, but quiet. It wasn’t shame she could hear in his tone, and, in truth, Aine wasn’t exactly sure what she could hear. "I am."
There was a dark blot at the high of his cheekbone, and the corner of his mouth was cut horrendously and the inside was bloody like he had just eaten a mouthful of tomato.
It was always a surprise that he had never lost a tooth or two.
“Big Brother is so stubborn,” she then said, pinching the gouged skin of his thigh together after she had finished rubbing the thin needle with alcohol, then her hands. “Never learning at all.”
The bits of green glass shard had already been picked, and the fleshy red of his muscle made it known how deep of a cut it had been, where his whole pant leg had been darkened and soaked, and they weren’t really sure if that had been the cheap alcohol or Bayu’s own blood.
Bayu only grumbled and gnashed his molars together when the needle wheedled through. Aine absently wondered if his gum had hurt much as she concentrated to make the threading as neat as possible. She didn’t say anything but she did hope that his broken nails didn’t dig much down into his other thigh.
She didn’t want him to have more injuries than what he had now after all, and most certainly not self-inflicted ones when she was right beside him.
“So very stubborn,” she said instead.)
Kurapika fell into steps with her, quietly and carefully, with the length of his strides measured perfectly with hers. “I’ll accompany you,” he said, voice bouncing together with the echoes of their footfalls, around the deserted hallways, before he added, not quite hurried, but something along that. “If you don’t mind, of course.”
As it was, Aine saw no reason to mind, so she aptly linked her hand to his arm, fingers curling around the crook of it. Kurapika tensed, though, for a moment, the thin muscles under her fingers tightened oddly, and she thought he might stop in his tracks.
They walked on.
“You are very considerate,” she remarked.
He gave a light laugh, and it sounded somewhat empty. “Thank you,” he said. “My mother taught me, or– well. Tried to, at the very least. I was quite obdurate as a child.”
“You still are, I think,” Aine said, and she meant it. If there was a common trait with the brightest glare between him, Gon, and Leorio, then it would be that. “Obdurate. Stubborn…” she didn’t think they would ever grow out of that. “Dogged.”
“Oh,” Kurapika let out blankly, and there was a light tremble to his body before the sound spilled out from his mouth. Airy laughter, like Mama’s almost. It was a very pretty sound. “You are very honest, aren’t you?”
“I suppose so,” she answered, then, remembering some comments, said, “Ah, but. If that doesn’t sit well with you, please tell me.”
They happened to look at each other. His brown eyes were darker than normal, as was his silken hair, but he was close enough for her to make out his expression. He was giving her a curious look, whether it was for what she had just said, or why they had stopped, she didn’t know.
Aine wasn’t sure who had stopped first.
“Have you encountered some problem with this before?” Kurapika asked.
“No,” she said. “But yes, too. It hadn’t been me.”
Now, he looked slightly bewildered, puzzled. “...What do you mean?”
“Some people greatly prefer my straightforwardness, while others do not. The people who do simply…react, more than I do.” Aine said, but it was contemplative at best, and hesitant at worst, as she didn’t quite know what to say. It was true that they did react more than she did, but it could also be said that they just reacted at all as a whole lot more than her. “More strongly. They seem to be unhappy with the fact that I do not.”
“Ah,” Kurapika said, as if coming to an understanding. “I see.”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he answered, and they straightened their lines of sight again, and continued on their way. “You’re quite…impassive, Aine.”
She blinked, feeling confused. “I don’t see the reason to the contrary when I’m the one spewing out words they wished not to hear?” Aine said. “In the first place, the people who don’t like my attitude are merely stating their opinions of me, and that doesn’t affect me outside of my interaction with them.”
In the end, all that said was that they were simply incompatible, and that they would be no closer than acquaintances in the future. It was normal to be considerate of the other party for an amicable relationship, was it not?
“Very pragmatic indeed,” Kurapika said with a brief chuckle. “To answer your question, I’d say that I am part of ‘some people’ as opposed to ‘others’. As they say, honesty is the best policy.”
(“Were you the one who started the fire?” Aine asked.
For an inexplicable reason, he couldn't help but feel slightly self-conscious. “...Yes", he answered candidly. "I smell of ashes, don’t I?”
Without hesitation, she answered, “You do.”
Their walk didn't continue for much longer.
"Oh," she stopped. "We're here."
"So we are..."
Aine made no move to open the door, standing there, being swallowed in his shadow, spilled by the moonlight. Instead, she went blank for a bit, her eyelashes lowered, before her gaze lifted again.
He was still for a moment, looking at her. A part of him wondered if she was going to comment on it.
“Goodnight, Kurapika. Dream sweetly.”
Well.
“Thank you...goodnight, Aine.”
He supposed she wasn't that type of person to begin with.)
It was deep into the night when the first sound of cutting blades, warm blasting air and clattering, harried footfalls alongside confused shouting woke Aine up, and when she gained her bearings not a few seconds after, she found herself letting out an empty, “Ah.”
She made no move to follow the crowds and be swept away, though, only sitting up with the thin, purple quilt sliding off her, staring out the small, round window. Dumbly, maybe. That was what Bayu would have said if he was here.
To be static inside her room despite there being an unexplained ongoing happening.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t surprised, but, to be completely honest, Aine couldn’t say that she was particularly surprised at the turn of events either.
Something like ‘expecting the unexpected’ kind of deal. Although she hadn’t exactly expected to be abandoned and left stranded, she did know that something was going to happen. It would be weird of her not to, after all, she thought with a certain level of surety that this was some sort of test.
With that said, Aine yawned, her eyes drooping slightly, tiredly, and she slid under the cover again, falling easily back into sleep.
After all, it was barely morning, despite it technically being the next day already.
It was nearing sunrise, but there was no sign of the blimp returning at all. Then again, Gon thought, it had been hours since it left, if they wanted to return, they would have done so already (at least, that was what Killua had said together with dry stare, before adding, “It’s just stupid to be sitting here.”).
Nobody returned to their room though, even when they had yawned and complained, stubbornly standing in place or planted themselves onto the floor and staring with tired eyes out into the horizon. Well. They had to be stubborn. They were taking part in the Hunter Exam after all.
Hunters are a bunch of stubborn, foolhardy people, Aunt Mito had said to him some times before he had caught the Master of the Swamp, with a deep frown and unhappy, wet eyes that she tried to hide. With how things turned out, Gon would say that he was pretty stubborn as well.
In fact, that was one of the first things Aine called him when he had told her the story of how he got Aunt Mito to agree to sign the slip for him, and Gon could only laugh without a word of denial because that was what he thought too.
“...?”
He blinked, and looked around him. Killua sat beside him, and Kurapika and Leorio stood not too far away while all the other participants scattered around with a tired expression and tense, but slack shoulders.
The seagulls had begun to cry, piercing through the sound of crashing waves, as the line of the horizon turned slightly red, and redder by minutes.
Eventually, maybe bothered by his turnings, Killua asked, “What is it, Gon?”
“Where’s Aine?”
It took a moment before Killua’s reply came. “This again?”
The next time she woke up, it was with a knock, and it seemed to almost be slated with the way her eyes lifted open within the same thrum of her heartbeat. A quiet rapt of knuckles against the door, and a quieter voice. Muted and soft.
Warm sunlight spilled through the round window like honeyed dew drops, pooling onto the purple quilt and maroon floor. Blinking once, then twice, Aine straightened her back and limbs until the cavitation popped and ligaments snapped properly into place before she gave a small yawn.
When she opened the door, Kurapika was there, his golden hair tinted orange, smooth and neat. Though, despite that, he looked to be slightly more rumpled than usual. Somehow. Even when he was sporting an expression that was neither grim nor pleased– neutral, in a sense.
Maybe it was the faint, dark circles under his eyes, or maybe the slight puffiness.
“So you were awake,” he said with a kind of tone, one where it said he had anticipated this even before she had opened the bright red door. Like he knew. She guessed he did. “Everyone is having an…emergency meeting right now, so I came to get you.”
She wondered if they had been keeping themselves awake all night.
Aine looked at him and said, after he had finished speaking, “Good morning, Kurapika.”
He blinked. A moment, and his response came. “Ah, right. Sorry. Yes, good morning, Aine,” he greeted back cordially, ever the polite one, then. On his lips lined a thin smile. “...Though, I’m not quite sure about the ‘good’ part right now.”
“Mm,” Aine nodded. “We’ve been abandoned, it seems.”
“...You knew,” Kurapika said, like an acknowledgement, and he seemed unsurprised, but also slightly perplexed.
“I saw,” she told him simply, then, “I heard.”
“Oh,” he let out, and his smile became surrendering, mixed with a weariness that seemed to have increased two-fold since yesterday. Kurapika huffed quietly, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Well. I can’t say that we were exactly quiet about it…and, I suppose, you’ve already expected it beforehand.”
“Maybe,” Aine said. “You did, too.”
“I hadn’t hoped for it though.”
He sounded faintly rueful.
“I don’t suppose no one did.”
Kurapika must have wanted that break. It was no surprise, not when she felt that everyone wanted one as well.
The clock on the wall ticked with every second passing, like a reminder.
Though, she thought, that was what it was intended for, wasn’t it?
“I’m going to get ready,” she announced abruptly, after the both of them fell into reticence, before turning her heels and moving further into her room.
Aine’s room.
Because she had been alone last night, when he happened to walk past her (the smell of ash on his tongue and the ocean’s salty wind clung to his clothes like a dampening–), and she was still alone in the room, even now.
“...”
She was to get ready, she had said.
With that from her, something that was like a dismissal, Kurapika thought that he should go as well, and informed Gon and Leorio, who had asked for her that she had been alright, as Kurapika had said that she was and it was irrational worrying over something so unlikely to happen, and he had said so.
Yet, he found himself here anyway.
(The reason being he was the only one who happened to, maybe, know where she was. And he did, he supposed.)
He should go back now, he thought again.
Only, Kurapika stood dumbly in his place, and the red door was left open, hung ajar in front of him, and he wondered what he should do. Did she leave it open on purpose, or did she want him to close it when he went–
“Kurapika?” Aine called, interrupting his spiraling thoughts, and she turned to him with a nebulous look in her eyes and a light lour over them. Why are you still there, they seemed to ask. Having his dilemma answered, he nodded his head and reached for the door handle when he heard her saying, “Please close the door after you enter,” before disappearing inside the bathroom.
“...yes?” Kurapika said, tone befuddled.
There was no answer.
He listened to her words anyway, despite being solely confused, and took a step onto the maroon floor, the door clicking shut soundly behind him.
Her hair was as soft as down feathers on his skin, and the brush with a white handle and an expensive appearance in his hand easily untangled the few knots there were.
Even though his hand kept moving thoughtlessly, Kurapika wondered, distantly, puzzlingly, as to why he was brushing Aine’s hair in the first place. They stood in front of the plain mirror in the bathroom that was without edges, while she was unhurriedly brushing her teeth.
By the time he was finished, satisfied with the neat fall of fair hair, Aine was already beginning to lean forward to rinse her mouth. He gingerly placed the brush down on the bare countertop. Without anything to do but awkwardly waiting around as the silence pervaded, he stole glances, observing his surroundings carefully.
There wasn’t anything interesting or overly out of place, but, when compared to his and Leorio’s room, it might seem a bit more cramped because of the bathtub pressed onto one side of the room. Another difference was the sleeping space itself that was bigger than theirs.
Kurapika supposed it might be because of the location of the room, tucked away from the cluster in a remote corner. Really, if he hadn’t accidentally ran into her yesterday night, he might have just let Gon and, most likely by extension, Killua went to find her instead of volunteering himself.
He followed Aine out of the bathroom. She slipped the outer garments that had laid neatly folded on the unoccupied bed on, first the ruffle-collared top, then the lavender skirt, before he realized, a little too late now, that he should have turned around instead of silently watching like this.
That said, Kurapika still hadn’t looked away as she began parting her hair, her thin, pale fingers running through them quietly, pulling it into two thick, rope-like braids. Around her wrist, there bounded a similarly braided cord of red thread, tightly stringing a small faceted stone the color of pure honey.
It caught the dripping sunlight, then disappeared inside her long sleeve.
“...”
He had just…spaced out, he supposed, and it came with a thought that was swiftly pushed to the back of his mind when the sound of Aine’s soft, impassive voice called him.
“Kurapika,” she said, and she was already standing in front of him, a few small steps away, looking up at him with glass-like eyes. The clothed bundle slung on her back, and her bag over her shoulder. “We should go.”
(How long had she been there?)
“If you're ready,” Kurapika answered after a moment of reticence.
A nod, and a turn of his heel, the doorknob cool in his palm and the red door was clicked open.
Notes:
That's a lot of Kurapika
I'm beginning to wonder if I should tag something as a warning for some ooc that might occur lolThanks for reading :D
Chapter 17: About Aine's Design
Notes:
This chapter is exactly as the title says, it's about Aine's design! How she looks like, how she "came to be".
Feel free to skip this as it has no plot relevance whatsoever ~( ̄▽ ̄)~
Chapter Text
If you would rather not sit through this/my drawings, then I had also, fortuitously, stumbled upon this on Pinterest!
That's more or less how I imagine Aine to look like! So cute!
Anyways. Let's begin (~ ̄▽ ̄)~
(Excuse the quality of all the photos here on out, please. You may also notice the change in the drawing style, so please excuse that as well)
"First draft"
Ahem. So. As you can see, the impression you'll first get from my first draft/drawings of Aine is vastly different from how she is now. I had first intended for her to be a very shy person with a permanently worried expression (which would then make others worried for her). But outside of those worried expression, she isn't very expressive (so maybe not so different after all haha). Very "hard to read", in a different way than she is now. Though you'd still find her saying blunt, honest words that might or might not insult other without qualm. Her "core" was very much the same.
Her hair color was the same as it is now, too; flaxen/wheat-color, but her eyes were originally intended to be coppery, sunset-like and watery, which would give an impression of red-color from time to time in various lighting. Which, consequently, would low-key/high-key give Kurapika a minor PTSD. But that was scraped for...reasons. And now, they are the purple color between amethyst and hydrangeas, as Kurapika had eloquently put it lol
Honestly, the only thing that changed throughout the process, really, was her disposition and outfits. The general idea and design stayed the same. (As you would see. I think.)
(The one in top-left, where it says she's observing the storm, is just a moment before Gon approached her!)
Then as I kept drawing, I wanted her to be more expressive. This is where we began to have the Aine we have today, actually. I wanted her default/resting face to be kind of blank, doll-like with they really don't give anything away, in contrast to when she's interacting with people, where she easily gives out soft smiles and such.
At first, her clothing at first was...more simple? With many layers. It was a thin strap top, spats followed by thick shin-length socks underneath, then comes the turtleneck, then a simple black dress, and over that was a thick knitted cardigan. Lots of layers. This was when her background hadn't solidified yet!
And here is she! The indifferent, doll-like Aine whose facial muscle seemed to be frozen! With soft hair and droopy eyes, still looked slightly frail. I really like how I drew her in this one, and that's probably, most likely, a big part of why she is who she is today o(* ̄▽ ̄*)ブ(my precious baby!). So, if you want to picture her, this is how! (and the one below here, too.)
(You might notice how I draw her changes often. The key elements are still the same ()hopefully), but my style is very consistently inconsistent. It loops from one to another.)
This is also where her background begin to somewhat solidified, so I began thinking about her her outfit design. I'm not really good with it either, so I was puzzled for a bit with the design.
For this one, while I was writing, I wasn't sure if I wanted to include the extra 'phase' (exclusively from the 1999 anime), but I drew this imagining her being relieved because Gon and Leorio had not drowned and were safe (which spoiler alert:...................didn't end up happening).
(I like how fluffy her hair looks here q(≧▽≦q))
rom here on, you'll see what kind of clothing she has on (the final version) (which is vastly different from the one before.) Please focus on that.
And here whole outfit:
(This one is a bit rough detail-wise lol)
There's also quite a lot of layers here.
Her apparel is a tree-piece situation, with top (white) and bottom (floral skirt, the flower being sweet peas. It was pastel green at first, but then I had a change of mind, and it became lavender instead) being separated and a whole layer with a halter dress underneath, then some thick stockings and a pair of white Mary Jane (which I didn't draw because I sucked at drawing shoes). (Hope you can piece them together.)
I wanted her clothing to show her background. Fine textiles, ruffles and such, kind of elegant but simple (sort of. Still an 'out' for the Hunter Exam though).
I just wanted to make it clearer what kind of looks Aine has, since I most likely won't ever be going into detail in the actual story what kind of clothing she's wearing, piece by piece. I might, probably, add a picture/drawing randomly in some chapters, and every time there's an outfit change.
That's it!
Bye for now <3<3<3
(Also, on the off-chance there's anyone wondering why I hadn't colored a single one of the drawing, it's because I'm a coward.)
Chapter 18: Steady, Ceaseless, and Red
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The sun had fully emerged from the horizon by the time they were on deck. With the hotelier or the blimp making no sign of returning, the participants seemed to have converged together and decided on what they should undertake between themselves in the meantime.
That was why she had been towed into the ship again by Leorio no few moments after having arrived, hearing only the tail-end of the discussion. “There’s just no way I’m gonna be walking alone in that creepy a– ahem, creepy ghost ship!” Leorio muttered in a badly-masked fright.
Turning to him, Aine asked, “Is this a ghost ship?”
“Isn’t it?” he said with an earnest expression, slightly shaken already, it seemed. “Just look around us and tell me otherwise!”
She did so, and the corridor they were in was somewhat narrow and tall, bright yellow glow of sun-spilled light. Frankly, it didn’t look particularly out of the ordinary. She thought that if a place like Gu Long had no ghosts, then this place ought to have none as well.
But it wasn’t like Aine could suddenly change a person’s perception that easily, so she only said, “...Oh. Well,” before blinking, and moved up and took the lead. Or maybe it was just that she didn’t have a sense for something like this. “If Leorio is so frightened, you can hold on to me.”
“Aine,” he said, sounding very heartened by her words, then he ungainly spluttered, “Wait– no. I can’t let a kid– Uh. I mean, I’m not scared that easily!”
“...”
“Really!” his face reddened, and he laughed with a boastful tone that failed to hide the shakiness as he continued, eyes darting everywhere but on her, “How can I, a great Hunter in the making, be afraid of something like measly ghosts?”
“Alright,” Aine said. They stood in silence for a moment, she looked at him one last time, then began walking again.
It took a turn down a corridor before he spoke up again, “But! If you’re scared, Aine, feel free to cling to me,” he said.
“Thank you.”
Then, quietly, “Hey...and, uh, thanks for the offer, Aine, I appreciate it.”
(“Leorio is very weird sometimes, does he know that?”
“That came outta nowhere...wait. Who's weird? Me? I’m weird?”)
Leorio, Aine thought, was the type to lie flightily for bravado so as to not lose the brave front he wanted to portray.
Though, it was also only that. Little white lies that do harm to no one but his own pride when they eventually reveal themselves to be just that, little white lies, as he was simply so unskillful at lying, and she thought that he was definitely the most unskillful liar she had ever met.
Even when Bayu’s lies seemed flimsier than wet papers to her (because, how could they now be when he somehow always seemed to close the distance between them more than normal as if to placate? She supposed that might be why others had such hard times differing his lies from truths.)
And Laik’s glib tongue rarely rolled lies that sounded just as flimsy out in front of her (because, although he didn’t know that the corner of his lips always raised a little higher when they did, and his posture even more nonchalant than usual, he knew Aine, and that in itself was enough for him.)
Leorio’s palms were sweaty and warm, and the width of his fingers differed from hers so much that it made it slightly uncomfortable to hold. They found themselves slightly deep into the battleship from a few winding turns and some, then two flights of stairs that had Leorio protesting like how a livestock would to a slaughterhouse.
(“You can wait here,” she had simply said.
“Oh, thank god!” Leorio cried out. “...Wait. What about you, Aine?”)
In the end, he ended up coming with her anyway, despite all the strong dissents
Aine had applauded him.
“I’m not scared, I’m not scared,” his voice was low toned as he continuously muttered, almost like a chant. “I’m not scar– Jesus!”
He screamed, and Aine tilted to the side, her arms pulled from her side by the defensive position Leorio had his arms did, shiveringly just before his chest.
“You’re pulling my arm too hard, Leorio.”
It was like he hadn’t heard her, as his hold not only did not loosen, but tightened even more.
“Wh- what was that! Ghost? J- ju, just so you know, I ain’t afraid of you! Ah, dammit, seriously! Why did the light have to not work at a place like this–”
Making use of her free hand, she reached into her bag and rummaged slightly through her things, remembering vaguely where the zippo had been placed. Somewhere past the hard cover book, thin case, and soft towels.
“So noisy,” Aine said, flicking the lid open when she had it out, the pad of her thumb sliding along the flint wheel. “If the ghosts had been sleeping, Leorio would have woken them up already.” the wick alighted, and the small lick of flame was orange and warm, illuminating Leorio’s horrified expression.
“Ah! Spirit orb! Do you see it? It's g, ghost!”
She blinked. "Spirit orb?"
“Geh–! It’s coming closer!”
"...?"
It was a box of compasses that Leorio had kicked over.
After a few more outburst, he had quickly gotten himself together, kneeling down and swiftly picking the spillage of compasses he had caused, then the box itself, before grabbing her hand again and towed her out of there without the pauses or bumps he had sustained on their way down.
“Why would you have a zippo with you?”
Leorio had commented when they were back to the sun-spilled corridor, after a splutter of 'I wasn't really scared, it's just-' and plethora of similar words in the midst of his heaving breaths.
“A dang nice one at that…” he trailed off, before quickly adding, his eyes wide as he looked at her, like he was afraid he had offended her, “Not that there’s anything wrong with you having it, I mean! It’s just, ah, I don’t see why you would have this with you, is all…sheesh, that came out kinda bad. Sorry.”
“I’m not affronted, Leorio,” she told him. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Yeah, I know you aren’t, but–” Leorio stopped, then shrugged lightly. He gave his hair a frustrated ruffle, a slight frown pressed between his dark brows, and his lips thinned. “Yeah. It just sounds bad, alright? Like I’m accusing you of something.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Yeah.”
Aine frowned when seeing his dour expression. “I don’t see why you apologized.”
Now, it wasn’t only her who was confused, as she could see the same emotion began to bleed into Leorio’s eyes as well. “It’s ‘cus I made it sound like I’m accusing you of something.”
“You weren’t, though,” she replied. “Were you?”
“Of course not!”
“Right?” Aine reaffirmed, nodding. “Mm. Thank you for apologizing, Leorio.”
“Huh? Uh,” he stuttered weakly, cheeks pinkening embarrassedly. “You’re welcome, I guess? I don’t think you’re supposed to thank people for something like this.”
Aine hummed, and instead of answering him, she reminded him, “Leorio asked me something.”
He blinked confusedly. “Oh. Right. The zippo. Why do you have it?”
“Because,” she started, unsure but also not. It was a convenient thing to have, she could say, or that she liked it very much. “Because of Raymond, I suppose.”
“Who’s this Raymond?”
Aine hesitated. “My friend.”
That was what he often called himself anyway. To be honest, although Ashleigh wasn’t very fond of him, they were more of friends than Aine and Raymond were, Aine thought. But then, she also thought, just because they weren’t as close, that they couldn’t be friends as well.
The term friend was so broad after all.
“Oh, A friend, huh,” Leorio fiddled around with the zippo. “What a weird thing to gift someone.”
“Is it weird?”
“Yeah. Isn’t it?” he said back unsurely, “I mean, Aine, you’re so young.”
“I am, yes,” she agreed easily, but still not quite understanding what Leorio meant. “And Leorio is, too.”
“Huh?”
“...?”
Aine really couldn't understand other people sometimes.
Leorio had opted out of coming with her after having been told by her of where she wanted to go. “I’ve had my share of stairs the rest of the Hunter Exam,” he had said with a sour face.
And so, they parted ways.
The wind was significantly warmer than it had been last night. Only the scent of brine remained, with nothing of ash and fire lingering in the air.
Nearly a quarter of a day had passed since then, so it wasn’t odd– just like the dark nothingness that had turned into a pearlescent blue, gleaming with the glare of sunlight, and the stars that had disappeared from sight.
There had been many differences between then and now.
(There had been a time when she didn’t–)
Aine supposed that was the reason for the ‘different as night and day’ adage. She thought so, at least, but maybe that wasn’t the reason.
“...”
She should get going.
(The first time Aine saw the night sky, the wind was not there and the stars were unveiled. It was something very unlike others.)
“Big Brother,” Aine called, her eyes wide still and her neck began to ache, but she couldn’t stop, couldn’t look back down again. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was the dark blanket that was the sky, that was speckled with odd bright dots, blinking at her from a place beyond reach. “The sky is very dark.”
They were stars, she remembered, those tainted, bright dots.
“...It’s nighttime. Of course, it’s dark,” Bayu spoke with an annoyance that had fallen empty somewhere along the way, hollow not unlike how the inside of her chest felt. It had felt that way for some time now, even though her heart was still there, thumping and thumping, and she was still warm.
(That was right. She was still very warm, blood rushing, and mushy organs inside. Unlike. Unlike–)
“Aine,” Bayu called, and she readily turned to look at him.
It was the first time she had really looked at him since she stepped outside of Gu Long, and it was the first time in a long while since he called her by her name.
His eyes weren’t of the same color anymore, she noted as the first thing she did, and it felt big, somehow, that revelation.
And it was big enough that something inside her made it hard to breathe with the swell of her heartbeat. Even though they were still the same pretty blue shade, and his hair was like egg yolks and the sunset. Even though he still reminded her of the longed sky.
She wondered if the ground would give out any time soon, and the sparkling sky breaking readily within a blink of an eye thereafter.
Aine hoped they didn’t.
She wouldn’t know what to do if they did.
“What is it, Big Brother?” she asked.
“Quit crying already,” he told her with a scowl. “You made the choice. Live with it.”
“Oh,” she said quietly, blinking.
His words took her by surprise, a sudden pith of the wrongness that had been felt, but was without an origin. Consciously, she reached upward, despite already being aware now of how hot her eyes were, of how much her head pulsed uncomfortably, and fingertips touched something wet.
She supposed this was why.
“Is Aine still crying?”
She was certain it had stopped, when the door clicked shut as the last thing it did and there were only narrow hallways that got left behind together with the space behind the wall of cardboard boxes under the staircase.
Bayu tightened his fists, and she absently hoped that he wouldn’t do it too harshly because she didn’t want the wound to reopen again. “Don’t ask when you already know the answer,” he said.
“Ah…”
Dripping incessantly, leaking, like the broken faucet in that cramped bathroom.
Staring at the lines along the palm of her hands was a mindless thing, and she thought that they were a little too blurry. “How weird. Big Brother, the tears won’t stop. Big Brother, What should Aine do?”
He didn’t answer her. She hadn’t expected him to.
Aine blinked again, and everything seemed a little clearer.
Underneath her nails was still smudged red, she thought, but it was no longer sticky, but instead dry and crusting, and the shirt several sizes bigger than it should be was blacker than anything she had ever owned, and the blotted patches couldn’t be seen at all despite the fact that she could still feel the wetness on her skin.
And her skin.
It was still faintly pink, so she thought that she might have scrubbed too hard. The odd stains were gone though, like Bayu wanted them to be. Aine had believed, for a moment, (then two, then three, then–) that they might never disappear, embedded deeply into her flesh, down to the white of her bones and everything else.
She wasn’t quite sure which she preferred, if she was honest.
“Big Brother.”
“What is it?” he asked tonelessly.
“Aine cried after all.”
“...”
“When Big Brother dies, Aine will definitely cry, too. Like she said she would,” she then told him, taking his hands in hers. Bayu always seemed to run hotter than she was. “Crying is very tiring, Aine thinks, so live very long, please. Long. longer than Aine, if you can.”
‘Don’t die,’ she didn’t say. It wasn't reasonable after all.
(After all–)
“Everything dies,” Bayu said, as if knowing her thoughts.
Maybe it wasn’t ‘as if’, maybe Big Brother did know. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did, just like how Aine knew him.
She smiled bleakly at him.
Everything seemed so blurry, tainted, in that faraway sort of familiarity.
“Mm,” she nodded. “Aine knew that already. You told me before, Big Brother.”
(Bayu’s eyes were still as blue as the day’s sky, Aine would think, again hours later, as she stared intently at him, who grew increasingly discomforted, but was quiet as a mouse.
"Aine really loves your eyes, Big Brother," she would tell him, and he would clicked his tongue at her. He didn't look away this time though, and that was good, because there was something else she needed to tell him. "Aine really loves you, big brother Bayu."
That was right.
Even if all changed, that, alone, would remain unchanging.)
(When Aine was seven and Bayu twelve, still all gangly limbs and deep scowls, where there were no longer crammed walls and narrow hallways, and Mama, but instead a warm sun that came with that specific maelstrom of the all too big freedom under the open blue sky that accompanied a Märchen’s Ending, where there happened a big great tragedy as a poor but loved device.
In truth, there hadn't been an ending at all.
In truth, it had only been the beginning of another thing.
Grandma Mu had said once, laughing derisively with a collection of sweet stories in her hands, that there was no such thing as a fairy tale’s happy ever after in real life, and if there was, there would be no ending in sight.
Aine thought that that was no less true as a fact. It would be very weird if their life just suddenly lost its meaning after having accomplished a thing called Happy Ending after all, when the protagonists were still so young and the ending of their true life had not been in sight.
In the first place, what was a Happy Ending, the ultimate ending, anyway? If she went to ask around, the answers would surely vary.
No matter how much she thought about it, it was hard to believe that the ending everyone thought of was a love fulfilled and being whisked away by a person they knew for less than a day, but rather, they wanted a person who would take them away from the on-hand problems and instead into grand castles with endless riches on a white horse, and only asked in return for them whole, flaws and imperfection included, loving them deeply and unconditionally despite not knowing anything about them.
In theory, Aine could understand why.
She believed it was as hopeful and wishful as it was despairing and trenchant. It was a good thing to set goals beyond reach, as stagnant water became poisonous, but with actual expectation, that would only end in sore disappointment and a heart that was wretched.
At what point in life was the perfect timing for the perfect ending, was another thing she wondered sometimes.)
In hindsight, she supposed it was good for Leorio that he hadn’t tried his way up her despite his protests.
“Oh,” Killua said with an indiscernible expression as he ambled past the fallen metal door. It wasn’t quite a pleased one, but it wasn’t one of displeasure as well. ”It’s you.”
“Killua,” Aine greeted. Then, “Gon.”
“Ah,” Gon smiled brightly. “Hey, Aine. Did you want to search the room, too?”
She nodded.
“Too late for that,” Killua remarked with a shrug, although he didn’t look any more mischievous in particular, something about him seemed to tell her that he was satisfied with about. He looked at her expectantly as he said, “You should’ve been quicker.”
As though he wanted something from her.
“You’re right,” she agreed.
“Huh?”
At that, Killua narrowed his eyes on her, like he wasn’t happy with her reply, but didn’t say anything else, appearing to be slightly sulky instead.
“Um, well, there wasn’t much inside anyway,” Gon said, interrupting Killua’s glaring. “But we found something really good though!”
“What is it?” Aine asked.
Gon held his arm up, a book in his hands. “Here, look!” he said excitedly as he leafed through the first few pages before stopping on one.
“Oh.”
It was a logbook.
“Hehe,” he said. “It’s a good find, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, it is.”
"Why the hell should we wait until nightfall!"
"Like Kurapika said earlier, it's the safer course of action!"
It was an absolute chaos, to say the least. Either Bayu or Valerie would describe that it was a ‘shitshow’, Aine imagined, if they were here.
“How enervating,” Aine observed.
These Exam-takers were very recalcitrant, talking mouth over mouth, like they were actively seeking problems and aimed to make things harder than they were, their words drowning each others’ out on the whether-or-nots they had on their hands.
“What,” was Killua’s dry reply. He had not turned to look at her while he spoke, but eyed the dissension that was playing out not too far away, under the scorching sunlight, set up for a sure failure when one side had already chosen to close their ears off. “Those idiots or the situation?”
(It was a rare thing, she noted, that he was willingly engaging with her in a conversation.)
Aine didn’t answer him, but said instead, “If they really want to leave, then there is no point in arguing in the first place.”
Ultimately, no one was going to be able to stop them if they were to rush out headlong into the sea right now. Though, rather than the wording of ‘no one would be able to’, it might be more fitting that ‘no one would do so’.
“Go and tell them that, then,” Killua told her with a stretch of his neck. “It’s beginning to annoy me how stupid they are. We're not getting anywhere with this.”
Really, would there really be anyone, she found herself wondering, who would exert themselves on stopping a few stubborn, uncooperative people? If there were, then she would have to applaud them because those people would be truly good.
“That’ll just aggravate the situation,” she said. “They won’t listen anyway.”
In fact, it might be the two who were arguing for a safer route right now, waiting for the nightfall for a proper guiding under the stars, or it might be the boy mulling quietly with the log book with the ink-splattered front in his lap, who sat beside her.
The writer’s penmanship was proving to be an awful challenge for him, it seemed, black inked and loopy cursives, going by the pace he was turning the page. Though, it could also be because of how earnestly he was reading it.
“Ah, seriously. If they want to die, then let them go die,” Killua said tonelessly, the slightest bit of interest visibly melting away. “Bah,” he craned his head to the side, giving Gon a glance before moving closer to him. “How far are you with the log, Gon?”
“Ah…”
“...?” Killua frowned. “‘Ah,’ what?”
Gon grinned sheepishly. “Hehe.”
“‘Hehe’?”
“I could barely understand what it says,” Gon admitted. “The letters are all so loopy, and squished up together.”
“...Gon, you–” Killua started, a disbelieving laughter came after, then a full blown, fox-like crackle that had his eyes curled deeply. “You’re really– ah. if you couldn’t understand it then why did you spend nearly half an hour staring at it like you did? You’re such a weirdo, seriously!”
Although it looked like Gon couldn’t quite follow along, seeming confused as to why Killua was laughing, he brightly laughed along as well, garnering some attention from their surroundings as the next loudest thing to the ongoing dissension.
All things considered, Aine should most likely hand the log to the appointed leader and vice leader. She redirected her focus to the two. The group of rowdy men had now been replaced with the huntsman Gretta.
“Ah...”
She supposed, then, that she could read it herself, too. Aine looked back at Gon and Killua again.
“Gon, can I see the book, please?”
Here's crying Aine (‾◡◝)
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 19: Held Fragile and Finite
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The proctor had been creative with this, was Aine’s first thought, eying the calm blue sea. Her second one was that she should probably relay the information to Kurapika and Hanzo at once. To anyone, really. It would be prudent of her, she thought absently as she raked through the scrawled letters, frowning.
Although it had already been expected, the three-day break wasn’t really a break after all.
That, in itself, didn’t surprise her all that much, not like the severity of the situation had managed to. Out of all the phases they had had insofar, Aine believed that this might be the harshest one yet, seeing that they were uninformed and very ill-prepared.
It was a very cutthroat, die-or-live situation, simply put.
They couldn’t raise their hands up for a forfeit this time, whether by the help of their own or the proctor, and choosing to sit out would result in the less than desirable.
“...”
Death…
“...Aine can’t die yet.”
She should try her best to get out of this situation.
Closing the log, Aine stood up and gave a light brush to her skirt as she looked around the empty deck blankly, only to conclude that she really should learn to pay better attention.
“...”
Where could Kurapika and Hanzo have gone, she pondered with the firsts of her footsteps.
Despite how fascinated she was with it, Aine seldom ever saw a squalling storm unfold nor tall waves weltered over shoreline, not to mention waterspouts at a magnitude strong enough to cause such disastrous outcomes.
In fact, the only time she saw a storm strong enough to be dangerous was at the start, on her way to Dolle Harbor, but that would, purportedly, not hold a candle to this. It had been fascinating then, and she had no doubt that it would be the same now. Bayu might be incredibly annoyed at her for it, though, for thinking such things during precarious times, if he ever asked her about it.
Things like fascination and danger mixed oddly well together at times.
But then, Aine thought, Bayu couldn’t be much too angry if he even had the opportunity to ask her that. After all, he was seldom the type to dwell on the hitherto goings when all well had ended well, not to say that there weren’t exceptions.
That didn’t come as a surprise.
There were exceptions to everything.
Bayu was especially prone to them.
Like the fact that he intensely disliked sweet things, but would still take the sweets offered by the nice houseservants at the estate and begrudgingly let those treats melt a sugary flavor on his tongue. Like the fact that he hated rain, but would still accompany her out to the garden during. Like the fact that he disliked parties, but still attended them with Blaise when the time called.
Like the fact that when he learnt of something unpleasant happening to her, but would still ease his frown. even if only slightly, when she told him Laik said he would help her with it. Even though he was ostensibly very vehement about not trusting Laik to the point that only sharp insults would come from his mouth when they talked about Laik.
(Like the fact that he hated getting dirty, but still held her hands in spite of that.)
Aine swallowed the ball of yarn down, and it was like it took all the wetness away, leaving her throat uncomfortable and dry. She swallowed again, not knowing what to do other than that. There wasn’t any water here after all, Aine had just wasted it because of a stupid, pig-like person.
She wanted to speak, but her voice was a little weird right now.
The lightheaded feeling wasn’t nearly as weird though, and the world seemed to appear slightly more tainted than usual under the blazing sun and the searing heat that caused the taut, red muscles underneath her skin.
“...Big brother,” Aine began steadily, a reminder, the green glass bottle felt warm in her hand. It had been cold before, giving her a chill despite her clammy palm, but Aine supposed she had held onto it for too long, too tightly.
Or maybe it was the viscous red blood that was tickling down from the sharp edges of the glass bottle that was making it warm, diluted by the water inside into a thin pink.
Maybe it was both.
She loosened her grip, the glass bottle shattered a little more once it met the ground, letting out an unpleasant sound that she knew Bayu didn’t like as she kneeled beside him and pushed the large man’s limp body off him. Aine felt sorry for forgetting that, but she was forgetful sometimes.
“Are you okay, big brother?” Aine asked with a deep frown. “It must’ve been very heavy, Aine’s sorry for not being careful of that.”
Bayu was quiet, laying still not unlike the large man, only, Bayu’s thin chest was heaving up, then down, in an almost imperceptible motion.
Aine sat wordlessly beside him. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do as she stared at the lines of her hands. Aine couldn’t touch Big Brother with these, she knew that at least, and that it wouldn’t be any cleaner even if she rubbed them raw. The faint of red would still be there.
She rubbed it against the black shirt that didn’t fit her anyway.
It was better than nothing.
Though, she felt a little lighter when she turned to look at Big Brother to find that nothing got onto him or his clothes except the sweat stain at the collar of his shirt.
Suddenly, Bayu flipped over, bumping into Aine, but he didn’t seem to care as he harriedly scrambled onto his hands and knees, retching himself sick and dry with a pallor of a corpse on his skin.
He was paler than the white bones, making the muddy blotches on him stand out even more.
Her eyes widened cluelessly, unsure of what to do when she was with dirtied hands and sweat-slicked skin as Bayu’s thin shoulders struggled to be held up, and his stomach unhelpfully emptying itself out onto the ground, bits of the content staining his caging hand in a tainting splatter.
Quite hurriedly, she roughly rubbed the palm of her hands against the nearby harsh surface of a bumpy wall before carefully placing one scraped, though unbleeding and ostensibly stainless, onto Bayu’s quivering, staveling back.
“There, there, big brother,” she attempted, and the image of his sun-bright hair and Mama’s pale-as-stars stringy hair overlapped in a faint memoir. “There, there.”
Strangely, despite the differences of age and gender and whatnot, their figures blended as one as Aine mindlessly droned out words that were hackneyed as they were well-meant. The sharp angle of their bony shoulders, their pale-as-corpse skin, and the bone-and-skin hands stained in vomit over their thin, spit-covered lips, rendering utterly useless as bile and so continued to spill from the many gaps from the gauntness of theirs.
(Even the ease of separating those digging hands away from their faces were of likeness.)
Aine’s dirty fingers mingled with Bayu’s weak ones as she coaxed him over to her, his botched face down into her knees, and her shirt eventually soaked down to her skin, now not just with sweat and blood and water, but bitter tears and heaving disgust as well.
It was then that she noted, just as there were similarities, there were as many dissimilarities as well.
Especially when he purposely turned over to face her with those searing blue eyes. Even tear-stricken, they were determined beyond anything she had ever seen. And those grasping fingers that held on so tightly she felt her finger-bones creaked quietly underneath her skin, seeming intent to never let go without teeth and claws.
Her heart was heavy with sundry feelings, and her palm swept away those spoiling things from his face.
“There, there, Big Brother. Aine’s here.”
Then, when she coincidentally ran into Killua in her important search of Kurapika and Hanzo, who was oddly alone and empty of Gon by his side, Aine couldn’t help thinking how he and Bayu had similarities as well, and dissimilarities that were nearly twice-fold in number.
Killua, with his cat-like temper and pale-as-snow hair, seemed to lack a good deal of tolerance for her, Aine thought, knew, and she was simply so sure that it was none of her fault as much as it was none of his, and that they were simply incompatible, that the thought went no further than that.
Like some glass doll Alluka would place on the highest shelf in a transparent case or something and Killua awkwardly would avoid for the fragility entirely despite Alluka’s many reassurances that it wouldn’t break so easily and she wouldn’t mind if it did, Aine looked frail and easily breakable.
(All pale, spindly limbs and a thin, white neck that he could simply wrap his hand around and–)
“Killua,” she called, looking directly at him with glasslike eyes.
Then he waited, then he mulled.
“What,” the words came with a condescending tone that he fully leaned into, an irritation he couldn’t hide away.
Killua hated how, although they were so clear and open, he could hardly tell what was going on inside her head. Like a glass that was stained purple, tinted and filmy. They always looked so eerie and unsettling somehow, nice-looking or not, making something inside him itchy whenever she looked at him.
The itch was persistent and aggravating, like a heap of many-legged bugs crawling around freely and unwantedly inside his innards, and the thought was so queasy he couldn't help scowling deeply. And he could scream about it sometimes, he thought, when it was particularly annoying.
In short, he just didn’t like them.
(Even though it was both honesty, how come her and Gon were so different?)
For a few seconds and some, wordlessly, they stared at each other.
For a moment, then two, then three, and before he could let himself feel fully annoyed at the silence, at stupid way she was looking at him, she asked, her voice soft, “Do you want to kill me, Killua?”
For a beat, it felt like any movement outside of theirs halted, and he quickly berated himself disdainfully for falling into that mindless habit again when he fully computed her words. “...and why would I want that?” he found himself asking back, an attempt of deflection more than anything.
He didn’t have any intention of killing her, Killua thought honestly, but that didn’t stop him from mindlessly thinking up a how-to.
She blinked. “I don’t know,” she admitted honestly, a light frown smearing her impassiveness like a mute color on a blank canvas. It didn’t look right, but it didn’t look out of place either, not like the way her whole person seemed to scream otherness when she stood in the middle of such a shoddy place. “You felt like you wanted to. Did you?”
The way she stared at him seemed to say, ‘so?’
“If I say yes…” he started, neither quiet nor loud, a raise in his brow and a shift in his stance, feeling defensive for reasons who knew. A confident smirk pulled the corner of his lips. “Then, what are you going to do? Fight me? Kill me first?”
Provocations.
The air felt stifling on his skin, and heavy in his lungs, and old, and familiar. Killua didn’t know why he asked that. He wasn’t going to do anything, he knew that, but it was odd. Somehow. It was as if he was testing her, in a way. For a reason that he surely wouldn’t be able to find without irritating himself mad, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Aine didn’t look away, and she didn’t answer him. Instead, she said, “Do you?”
(Many things about her made him itch.)
Killua pressed his eyebrows together, clicking his tongue loudly.
(He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t say that he hated her either.)
“...No. Like I said, why would I?”
It wasn’t like he was some psychopath who would go around killing people for no reason whatsoever, he thought to himself (quietly, worriedly–).
Right?
“Okay,” she said, and that was that. Aine then asked, “Do you know where Kurapika and Hanzo are?”
“No, I don’t,” Killua answered without a pause for thought, not when he didn’t even know where Gon was.
And that girl was gone in a flurry of a painfully polite thank you and a nod.
(And it was quiet again.)
"...where the heck is that idiot anyway?" Killua huffed, annoyed.
Humans were not infallible.
That was true as the setting nights and dawning mornings, and Aine knew that, even before the rapidly paling pallor that had grown colder and stiffer under the pad of her fingers.
Mama’s eyes were as dull as the lusterless shine in her tangled hair and chipped nails, as was her skin.
And, although she was never quite as warm as Aine, now her temperature was only becoming like that of the water she sat in. The broken faucet drippled small, consistent drops of water in an incessant manner that might drive someone mad, and the cramped bathtub overflowed a little more.
It did nothing to dilute the teeming sanguine, though.
The water was getting no clearer than her heart. It all felt horribly muddy, whether it was her insides, or her surroundings, and Aine couldn’t move. The square tiles of the bathroom floor dug into her legs, too cold and too wet, but she could hardly pay any attention to it despite the persistent discomfort it caused her.
“Mama…”
The tears kept overflowing– they wouldn’t stop.
And she didn’t know what to do.
(Humans were not infallible, and Aine loathed that in kind.)
Big brother Bayu was a boy with hair the color of a carrot, she thought they were nearly the same color as the bright egg yolk that seemed to always disappear under the earth. Bayu had called it the sun and yelled at her when she stared too long at it.
He yanked one of her braids when she didn’t hear him, and she fell onto the cold floor. Her palm was scraped, and he dragged it under cold water. It stung. Aine listened to him. Her eyes began hurting after she stared at the sun anyway, and he yelled at her some more after she told him that.
Aine never did it again. She was a good girl and she listened well to her big brother Bayu. He was good to her after all.
When the sun was gone, the sky would supposedly no longer like the color of Bayu’s eyes, but the color of the blotch underneath one of them. Aine knew he had a lot more under his clothing because he got irritated at her when she tried to hug his arms, the same way he got irritated when she poked at the bruise on his cheek.
She had them sometimes, too, and her mama would always hold her with her thin arms and cry out Aine’s name when she said she was sorry. Aine didn’t understand why. “We’re matching, mama!” Aine had said once.
That made her mama cry harder until her pretty face was only red and blotted, so Aine didn’t say it again. Aine didn’t tell her about the bruises she got from her mama’s smothering hugs either. She had a feeling Mama would cry more if she did. But Aine liked them though. They bared Mama’s love for Aine.
Big brother Bayu didn’t like his dark blotches because he didn’t like his father, but many others didn’t either. They were just never as brave as Bayu. Aine could see why Bayu wouldn’t like that uncle. She didn’t like him either.
Uncle’s mouth was nearly as foul as his stench. He liked the sound of his voice very much even though it was extremely unpleasant. Nobody liked his voice because all it did was hack out awful words that hurt them.
She hated how he talked about her mama. Aine hated it. Hated his words. Hated him. She didn’t know what a whore was, or what a bitch in heat was, but she remembered those most because they were the words Uncle liked to say most while he was chatting with the other uncles.
She asked Mama but Mama only asked where Aine had learned it from and that Aine shouldn’t say it anymore. They were bad words, she said. But Aine still didn’t know what it meant, so she went and asked her big brother Bayu.
Mama wasn’t any of those things.
She wasn’t. Aine went home and hugged her mama tight.
Maybe that was why Uncle’s teeth were so rotten.
Bayu laughed when she told him that. He laughed really, really hard despite his busted lips and swollen eyes, and Aine didn't think he should do that (now it was going to hurt even more). With his bandaged hands clutching tight onto his stomach, Bayu fell over. Laughing. Aine did that. She made him laugh.
If she told her mama the same thing, would Mama laugh as well? Aine wanted Mama to laugh. So hard that her face was red, and she would fall over while clutching her stomach like brother Bayu did. Mama always looked the prettiest with a pretty smile on her pretty face after all.
She shifted in place with giddiness and anticipation, but before Aine headed home, Bayu had sat up by the wall and wiggled his finger. She went over to him obediently, kneeling with patience between his bent legs. Bayu looked at her silently, and he didn’t say anything for a long time.
That was fine too. Aine really liked looking at his pretty eyes, the same way she liked looking at the sky when she got the chance to. It wasn’t often though. One day, Aine really wanted to climb to the very top and see how far the sky stretched. Big brother Bayu said it was endless, and she believed him, but she couldn’t imagine it.
“Hey,” he called her, voice hoarse and stern. Aine nodded, eyes falling to his bruised neck. It was Uncle again. That was why Big Brother Bayu didn’t like him. She looked up again and waited. “Don’t ever say that to that bastard’s face if you don’t want to die. Got it?”
Aine wanted to nod her head and said she understood, but she didn’t. What did ‘to die’ mean? She heard of the words before.
‘The husband a few turns down from here had beaten his wife to death.’
‘The boy from the next block drank the leaked water and died.’
'If they don't get rid of that dead body soon, the rats are going to start feed on it.'
‘Mama is dying, Aine. It hurts so much. Mama is dying.’
She heard it so many times, but she still didn’t understand it.
Bayu took her hand and placed it on her chest. “Feel that?” he asked, and Aine tilted her head before nodding. That was her heart underneath her ribcage. It thumped slowly, very different from Bayu’s. His thumping felt sometimes like Mama’s. Like the pelting ‘rain’ muffled by the thick of the walls.
Aine had never seen rain before. She wanted to. One day. She heard it was cold, almost like a shower, and nearly cleaner than one.
“When your heart stops beating, that’s when you die.”
What happened when it stopped? Aine would die, but then what?
“Is that bad?”
“Your body would be cold and stiff, and you wouldn’t be able to talk anymore. And…Auntie Hua would be sad.”
When Mama was sad, she would cry. Aine didn’t like it when Mama cried, and Mama was sad very often, so she cried very often. “Mama would?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Why?
“Because you wouldn’t be able to see each other again.”
Bayu was picking on his loose binding again. Aine wanted to re-bandage it. She would do a very good job since she had done it many times for her mama when Mama was too tired to do it herself. Mama looked sad then as well.
“Aine doesn’t want that.”
He puffed a derisive laugh. “You'd have a loose screw in your head if you did.”
Distantly, Aine wondered then if that meant Bayu had a screw loose in his head, but she didn’t say anything.
She couldn’t imagine not seeing Mama again, or not seeing big brother Bayu again. Tomorrow, if Aine opened her eyes and Mama was not there… “Would Aine cry?” she reached her hand out and held Bayu’s fickle fingers still.
Aine hadn’t cried for a very long time now because Mama would be sad when Aine cried, and then she would cry as well. Mama already cried a lot on her own, if she also cried every time Aine cried, then she would be all dried up soon or later.
If Mama cried all her tears out, would blood begin to come out instead?
“If you love her, then…maybe you will. Maybe you won’t. Who knows?”
“Oh. Then,” she looked up at him, blinking. His eyelashes were the same carroty color as his hair. “Aine thinks she will. If Mama dies, Aine will cry then.”
Bayu pinched her fingers to a stop. She didn’t mind. Aine was finished tightening the binding anyway.
“When, not if.”
“When?”
“Everything dies eventually.”
“Everything?”
Not just people, but things as well?
Did that mean the sun would burn out one day and it would be dark forever? Would the earth crumble from underneath before she even got the chance to feel it underneath her feet? Would the sky fall with rain and clouds in it for her to feel and them to pool in her hands?
She wondered what they tasted like.
“Everything.”
He sounded empty.
“Oh.” Aine leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. Bayu huffed a hurt groan. He didn’t push her away though. He didn’t do anything. He sat still when Aine pressed her ear to his chest, one arm laid limply beside him and the other thrown over her shoulder.
One day, this thumping would no longer be here.
Still and quiet.
She closed her eyes and listened. Her heart felt sticky. “Aine would cry when big brother Bayu dies.” she thought she would.
They didn’t talk for a long time. The lamp nearby flickered and their shadow moved across the cardboard boxes stacked into a wall. There wasn’t a lot of space under the staircase, but it was enough for the two of them when they were both so small. Bayu didn’t like to be reminded of that though.
“Big brother Bayu.”
“What is it?”
“Aine won’t tell Uncle what she had said today.”
Her heart jumped when Bayu’s hand pushed her head down. He was patting her. “Good.” a happy laugh slipped out from her and Bayu called it weird. Aine didn’t mind that he thought it weird. He had called her weird so many times now, but he was still waiting for her underneath the staircase.
“Also, don’t call that repulsive fuckface Uncle when we’re together. It’s disgusting.”
“Okay, Aine won’t anymore,” she promised.
(Aine didn’t want to make Mama cry, she wanted to see Mama tomorrow and the day after and many days after that, and she still wanted to hear Bayu’s heart thumping under her ears and warm and stubborn in her hold.)
“Big brother?” she said.
“What?”
“What does ‘fuckface’ mean?”
Thinking again, Big Brother had been oddly compliant that day.
Notes:
So, Gu Long is located in Xin, which is very loosely inspired by/base on Kowloon Walled City and China respectively, and I am really tempted to just write 'gege' instead of Big Brother because of that. It's easier and short after all! Incidentally, Aine and Bayu is not related in anyway, shape or form.
And Lerose is very loosely inspired by/base on France/Fontaine (GI, I don't play it though).Just want to clarify that.
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 20: The Storm Screamed. Then Came Light
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Despite the fact that Aine had been anticipating having to run around like the hurried White Rabbit in her search for Kurapika and Hanzo, in reality, it took no time at all. After her parting with Killua, she ran into no one else, passing through many doors and empty corridors until she stumbled upon the bridge.
The head full of golden hair that caught the sunlight spilling from the wide windows stood stark against the perfidious sky, in contrast to the glabrous head that appeared to be reflecting just as much, if not more, light.
“Kurapika. Mr. Hanzo.”
Both Kurapika and Hanzo seemed to be deep in thought, in the thick of a discussion with troubled expressions, but the attention quickly strayed the moment they both turned towards her with varying degrees of bewilderment.
Kurapika was the first one to speak, blinking. “Aine? Is something the matter?”
“Yes,” she answered with a habitual nod. “There’s a storm front coming, I think.”
(“...A storm front?”
Kurapika found himself repeating slow-wittedly, feeling the warmth of the sun on the side of his face as he looked at her, the blue of the sky and the sea pearly in the corner of his sight.
She nodded again, but did not say anything else, merely handing him the book in her hand. He briefly pondered if he should ask what it was, but ultimately decided against it, thinking that it was faster to read over it himself instead.
“What do you mean, ‘you think’?” Kurapika heard Hanzo questioned slightly incredulously as he leafed through the pages of what appeared to be a log book, though the seriousness which was said with couldn’t be dismissed either. “A storm front?”
He couldn’t stop the frown forming between his eyebrows once he reached a page detailing the start of something unnerving, the speed he used as he flipped through slowed down significantly. A soundless alarm blaring coldly in his head, hurrying across the needless nonessentials.
“It’s a postulation after all,” Aine answered plainly, softly, but it seemed to be the only thing he was hearing outside the acceleration of his heartbeat. “If I don’t say ‘I think,’ then I might be lying. I have been told it’s not good to lie. I don’t know if the barnacles, Gon’s hearing of unaccountable noises and the seagulls’ strange behavior are enough. I’m not well-acquainted with seagulls’ behavior, but Gon said it was strange, at least.”)
There was a saying.
‘Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows,’ was how it went.
Aine truly thought that it did well in describing the time and situation they were enduring. A trying time, some might say.
It took some time for that saying to come true, though.
The proof of the pudding was in the eating, she supposed with shallow thoughts, despite the long-winded conversations and back-and-forth, bad-tempered arguments, it was with some casualties and witnessing the phenomena with wide eyes and pale faces for people to finally be convinced.
Although having said that, she herself wasn’t present for any of the altercation, only witnessing it from a far distance behind the windows of the observation tower, having been left behind by the rushing Kurapika who had suddenly sprung to life after falling silent with a concentrated look on his the face that only grew graver the longer he paged through the log book, running out the bridge with a confused Hanzo trailing not far behind with questioning exclamations.
“That was very harebrained of you, Gon,” she told him, frowning, hands ruffling the towel through his wet hair after rubbing it on his face. The grin on it was sheepish, but also unrepentant. “You should learn to think before you act, your Aunt Mito would have been very disappointed, and undoubtedly sad if you don’t return to her.”
Watching Gon jumping into the dark water, Aine thought if he had at least thought of a way to get back to the ship again, then she wouldn’t have said anything to him about it, but it seemed that hadn’t nary a thought before jumping in.
It was very much like how Bayu had liked to let his mouth run without his thoughts first, always landing himself into misfortunes that he had no way of getting out of.
He didn't do that anymore, though.
“...”
(Now, he barely said anything in his mind at all.)
“I’m a strong swimmer, so I’d be fine!” Gon said with a reassuring smile that was smothered away by the white towel. Even as his voice muffled, he kept going, “And- and, Gretta would have drowned if I let him be swept away by the current!”
With the eager inclination at which Gon was willing to throw his life around for others, it felt as though he didn’t quite have the plain concept of death within him, that was what Aine felt.
After all, two in death was no better than one.
“Is that really all you have to say for yourself? That you’re a ‘strong swimmer’?” Leorio interrupted with a deep frown, his tone frustrated, his worry wholly undisguised. “Gon, that was dangerous as heck! You could have drowned together with him! It’s the Hunter Exam, everyone is at the risk of death, so just worry about yourself!”
Killua, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, scoffed incredulously, before adding, “Yeah, Gon, that was pretty reckless. You didn’t even know if you’d be able to get back to the ship. Next time, at least tell someone before you jump overboard.”
“Just don’t jump overboard in the first place, dammit!” Leorio gritted.
Gon shook his head slightly, looking with earnest eyes. "...I know it was dangerous," he admitted, his voice steady despite the reprimand he was sitting through. "But I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. If Gretta was in trouble, I had to help him. That's what being a Hunter is about, right? Helping people in need?”
Leorio made a complicated face, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond to the Don Quixote-like reply he had gotten from Gon. “...Seriously!” he huffed out.
Killua sighed. “Just don’t make a habit of it, okay? I don’t wanna dive in after you the next time if no one else's there to do it.”
He shook his head and the sea water drizzled lightly with the movement from his pale hair. Even though it seemed he had been trying to appear disapproving, he was unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips despite the downward tilt of his head.
“I can't just ignore someone who needs help,” Gon told them with a puff of his chest, his smile bright as the sun. “I'll be more careful, promise!"
Aine couldn’t help wondering how seriously he was taking that promise when Gon seemed like the type of person to completely forget about something like this when he was truly in the heat of the moment, where the color dyed his whole vision and he could no longer see anything else, blinded entirely.
(Though, maybe it wasn’t forgetting as much as discarding.)
Then, Kurapika, who had been very quiet up until now, diligently drying his wet hair and observing the surroundings, staring out the shaking windows to the storm-swept landscape, started with a face that was mutely plagued with an indiscernible emotion.
Absently, Aine thought as her eyes strayed aimlessly beyond the thick pane of the windows, if she was able to match the emotions to the facial expression, she would have a much better chance at understanding him better. Her friend. And with ample time, she would. She wanted to, so she would.
There was a violent roar of thunder, and everything seemed to have shook with its intensity, the dark waves rolled higher than before and the small attachment to the ship blasted away with the unrelenting harshness of the windstorm.
Empty of anything, the sky was starless and moonless today.
Aine looked away with a blink.
"You have a good heart, Gon," Kurapika began, and, unlike his expression, his voice was easy to discern, a calm and measured tone, weariness-riddled still. "And your instincts to help others are admirable. But Leorio is right; the Hunter Exam is dangerous, and you need to be aware of the risks, not just for yourself but for those around you."
Kurapika opened his mouth as if to continue, but aptly paused, as though making sure his words were getting through properly.
Gon was silent, staring earnestly at Kurapika, as was Leorio and Killua.
Seeing this, Kurapika then continued.
"It's not just about helping others but knowing when and how to do it safely. There are times when caution is just as important as bravery," he said, combing quietly his thin fingers through his wet hair, his eyes oddly downcast as they flitted away, solemn, contemplative somehow.
"...Fearlessness is not bravery, I don't think,” Aine pointed out. “Dying with the knowledge of death is much different from the opposite, is my opinion.”
It truly fell hushed, then.
("Bravery is knowing the risks, embracing the fears, and acting anyhow, despite them. Just be mindful of your limits and what’s at stake.")
They decided to use the battleship as the means to escape, and now, all participants were working together willingly.
More than willingly, maybe.
Their lives depended on it, after all, depended on the efficiency of everyone present. With the promise of death looming not too far off the horizon, Aine didn’t think it was a hard thing to achieve, teamwork. Taking the form of the cruel dark water, waiting and waiting, biding its time until it had eaten enough to tower over them wholly.
“What are you going to do, Aine?”
The room had fully emptied out when Kurapika asked her that, and his voice drew her gaze away from the still blue sky. Like before, when she had stepped into the bridge, Kurapika's hair, gold-as-bells, was scintillating again under the light.
“...”
Aine hadn’t really noticed how quiet it had gotten until then.
“...I’ll look through the manuals with Kurapika,” she told him, looking him in the eyes. After that, she thought that she should ask him before deciding so resolutely. “Can I?”
(She didn’t think much of the fickleness of it all.)
Kurapika blinked, smiling lightly within the next moment.
“Two pairs of eyes are better than one,” he said.
(Truthfully, at first, she had wanted to go with the others, just short of nodding her head in agreement to Gon’s invitation of getting rid of the seaweeds on the battleship’s propellers while most others were still in deep discussion.
Leorio had been right beside them and he had overheard, turning to look at her with a deep frown on his face before vehemently saying, “Absolutely not.”
“What?” Gon pouted. “Why?”
As it was, it seemed that Leorio had, somewhen, been told by Kurapika of her inexperience in water.)
The manuals were mostly dry walls of text that said a lot and gave too little to those not familiar with the cants and how-to’s. They were interesting in a way that Aine felt she might understand them if she was to dig a little further, and dove a little deeper into some things that they currently weren’t in possession of.
So she told Kurapika with a closing clap to one of the manuals, “I want to find more information,” before she went off her own way down the stairs that had yet to drown, to the places unexplored by her previously.
Aine walked past many rooms, and there were as many things as there weren’t. Many signs that were evident, clear as day, if properly observed. She passed by rooms she had glanced into earlier, their contents a puzzling array of rusted machinery and debris that once seemed meaningless. At first, she was somewhat confused, but now they all made sense.
The slow erosion of the ship, metals seawater had eaten away, and returned with slow redding of corrosion.
In another room, she found a pile of debris– papers, books, and what might have once been maps, all waterlogged and fused together into a pulpy mass. It reminded her of the odd behavior of the seagulls, the strange noises Gon had heard…
“Oh.”
She supposed it all tied back to the unnatural, decennial phenomena that had been promised since the start. Aine stared at the disintegrating pages, the ink blurred and washed away, leaving only faint, illegible traces.
It was as if the sea itself had tried to erase any record of what had happened here, any memory of the lives lost, and she wondered if the logbook they had found was a lucky coincidence, or a well-placed one.
“...”
Though, even if it had been arranged by the proctors, information was information, it didn’t matter at all, actually.
She grabbed a book from the highest shelf and continued her way.
Hearing the announcement from the speaker-pipes littering about as she was on her way back to the bridge, Kurapika’s reverberating voice resolute, Aine felt an odd sense of displacement that made her frown unconsciously.
Something was wrong but she didn't know what.
As Aine ambled on, her footfall that echoed in the empty halls only continued to hastened in its pace, and the countdown a slow approach thing in her mind.
“Kurapika,” she said as the first thing she did once she reached the bridge, in thought, frowning even deeper as she recounted what was told to her some hours ago. Kurapika turned to look at her with a questioning look, before Hanzo’s voice distracted him again.
“Kurapika,” she said once more.
“What is it, Aine?” he asked patiently, but didn’t turn to look at her, seeming too busy bridging the communications around the battleship, easing out the final kinks before they could, by and by, move on to freeing the ship from the narrow creak of the crescent-moon-shaped island.
Seeing how busy he was, normally Aine would just wait until there was time, but this thing was too important for long waits, she thought.
“Is Leorio already out of the water?”
There were bound to be some consequences from setting off repetitive bouts of explosives no matter how one went about it.
(Leorio might drown if she waited too long after all, and Gon too, with his tendencies.)
(The sky had already begun to darken outside, completely ridding itself of the picturesque scenery of a summer-solstice sojourn. A turbulent storm quickly approached, with rolling daunting thunderclouds in the yonder and anxious dread not too far behind.
“That could’ve been real bad,” Hanzo commented gravely, his voice bouncing from the communication pipe. “I overlooked that Leorio could have been impacted by the explosives, which was careless of me, I admit.”
“It wasn’t only you, Hanzo.” Kurapika said, and it was almost toneless. Aine couldn’t see his expression from where she stood, but his back seemed slightly hunched before it straightened itself out again not a moment after. “I overlooked that crucial detail as well…”
A reticent fell over them.
“...Let’s just be more attentive from here on out,” Hanzo said.
“Yes. Let’s.”
“...”
“Oh, right!” there was a snap of fingers that somewhat dispelled the solemn mood as Hanzo exclaimed loudly. “Is the little girl- Aine, right? Is she still there?”
Aine blinked at the sudden mention of her name, and it seemed that Kurapika was as surprised as here as he looked over his shoulder, over at her, with an expression of mild surprise.
Not wanting to be rude and leave Hanzo unanswered, Aine stepped forward, closer to the communication pipes, right beside Kurapika. “Yes,” she said.
“Good job on the uptake, Aine!” Hanzo commended good-naturedly.
“Oh…” Aine said. “Thank you.”)
The gravity took a tumble as the wheel spun and spun, Kurapika’s hands slipping limply from it with the temper of the storm raging outside with a light gasp. It looked like it was raging. Like an out of control racing horse trying to overthrow its rider, the water was trying to throw them into its black depth with the ship’s capsizing.
At least, Aine thought so, from where she was inside the bridge, her hand clamping down onto Kurapika’s forearm while the other stilling the helm that had been spinning uncontrollably, turning it counterclockwise, the opposite way it had run wildly towards.
“Are you alright, Kurapika?” she asked, pulling him upright again but not letting go of him.
Neither the ship stilled nor the gravity quit its tumbling, the waves too turbulent for those, as were the wind and storm.
“Yes,” Kurapika replied, spending a brief second to compose himself. “Thank you for catching me, Aine.”
“Hey, Kurapika, are you okay!” Hanzo’s panicked voice echoed from the communication pipes, and Aine aptly loosened her hold on him as Kurapika whirled off again, with an appreciative nod to her, to the front of the steering, answering back with few, concise words.
“...”
(He was rather thin, Aine thought absently, despite the layer of wiry muscles.)
“...You’re welcome,” she said, and it was more to herself than to Kurapika, who was too rushed off on his feet to hear her.
(Narrow, angled shoulders that dug uncomfortably into Aine as much as she knew how uncomfortable she was to hold, and a lean, lissome back that had a hard time carrying her steadily down the long and damp corridors.
Despite all the discomfort she felt, those narrow shoulders and lissome back were so, so–)
She wondered a little if they were to be lost in the darkness for hours more, despite approaching the time of daybreak soon. There had been no glimmer of stars for as far as she could see, and the clouds were so thick and gloomy that there seemed to be no clouds at all, only a stainless sky.
The dark stretched on and on outside, the occasional glimpse of moonlight refracted dimly against the surging waves, and the ship still rocked vigorously to and fro as though they were on the verge of capsizing like a rocking horse occupied by an over-enthused child.
“Aine.”
Since they were out in the open sea now, wandering about with but the feel of the gut and the compass Kurapika had in his tight clutch. There were no bright stars to guide them after all.
The communication pipes had been seldom in use. It was quiet, a suspenseful sort of quiet that said they were waiting for the other shoe to drop, unlike the bedlam of disorder at the start of the night, where everything had been loud and blaring, issues and complications appearing with every turn they took.
She blinked, turning away from rows of the windows lining the wall.
“Kurapika.”
“You should hold onto something,” he told her with light concern. “It’s dangerous.”
She would be fine, Aine thought, but found something to hold onto anyway, taking a few more steps until the tip of her fingers touched the cool metal of the window’s ledge, her fingers curling around it not too tightly.
Every step she had taken felt like a bounce, and she knew some had fallen victim to the weird gravity they were subjected under.
(A voice breaking in a yelp and something loudly thumped, thereafter followed by a “Don’t play around, idiots!”)
It was so still.
Her eyes squinted reflectively as the first ray of sunlight sharply pierced her corneas, and the cheers were loud as waves through the communications pipes as the participants ran on deck with their arms flailing about in lieu of celebration.
There was a sigh. “It’s daybreak,” Kurapika said, heavy, and the relief in his tone was hard to miss, a near palpable thing.
“Thank you for your hard work,” Aine told him, and the pull on her lips felt quiet.
Kurapika blinked, and his smile was as soft as the warmth on her skin. “Likewise.”
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 21: All Waters Yearn for the Sea
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A hunting game where everyone was a hunter while also being a prey.
“...”
It felt slightly like the ecosystem, she thought.
Aine fiddled with the white card in her hand, a quiet contemplation running in the back of her mind of what to do with it.
406, her own badge.
Everyone had been quick with their hands, glancing over suspiciously around as they all pocketed their badges. There were exceptions, of course. Kurapika and Leorio had advised her to do the same when the proctor had given a go-ahead for free reign of their time until their arrival at Zevil Island, and she had no doubt they would have done the same to the other two had they not ran off so quickly.
Staring at her badge a little more, Aine decided, as she needled the pin through her cloth again, that it would be nugatory to hide it.
Strictly speaking, if they wanted to avoid being preyed on, displaying their badges out would only dissuade that since people would mostly be focused on gathering points the fastest and easiest way, which was going after their prey’s badge, was what she thought anyway.
And the number of people preying on you would not be that much different from if they were displaying their badge out.
Frowning after some thinking, she said, “...ah.”
That method would probably only work if you appeared strong in the eyes of the people with shallow judgment, but Aine supposed that would only work in her favor.
They were supposed to gather badges anyway, wouldn’t it be easier to be approached then to be the one approaching if that was the case?
She tilted her head, before craning her neck up to look at the blue sky again, the sunlight comfortable on her skin.
It was nicely warm.
Aine could sleep like this.
(“You’re much stronger than you look,” Niv commented offhandedly, once, as he wiped away the perspiration running down his neck, looking at her in the reflection of the wide-spread mirror from where he stood by the open palladian window.
He might have said it because of what happened earlier, she thought.
It could have gone very badly, if he was to get injured, since they had a role to fill in the near premiering show a fortnight from now.
Aine blinked, her brows furrowing confusedly, and lowering her leg and arms from their position. “Niv,” she said, and she remembered to call him Niv because he didn’t want to be called Lyon. (“Too stiff,” he had said with a slight petulant tone, “We’re supposed to be partners from now on.”)
“What is it?” he asked with a hum.
“...How does,” she started slowly, turning to look at him eye-to-eye, carefully picking out the words that felt foreign on her tongue. “the way I look…correlates to my strength?”
“Ah?” Niv pursed his lips as if deep in thought. “Well, you’re…quite small, Aine, and light. You lift so easily after all.”
“Oh,” she nodded. “...I see.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, since it makes things easier for me,” he told her lightly with a grin. Then added, for her, most likely, “And that’s just my shallowness talking, don’t mull too much about it.”
Niv did a lot for her, all considerate things, like choosing easy to understand words and speaking slowly, well-articulated, without making much of it, and waited until she understood before continuing again.
“Okay,” she said, and began moving again.)
The ocean was sparkling, gemstone-like glimmers dotting the wavering surface, and the blue sky showed an unobstructed view to the bright and bold sun. Aine took note not to stare at the sun for too long, quickly blinking away.
(Bayu’s hair was the color of the sunset–)
It was as though nothing had happened, like a canvas with multitude of colors that was enough to turn it muddy washed out by a splash of white paint.
The world never dwelled, she supposed.
“...”
White, hazy clouds scattered across, and Aine propped a hard candy into her mouth, leaning back onto the mast behind her.
It felt as though it had been a long time since she left Wathhythe De Willo, but in actuality, only a little over a week had passed. She fiddled mindlessly with the red cord around her wrist. The weird feeling inside her chest was somewhat a foreign thing.
Stuffy and uncomfortable with every thump of her heart, and almost viscous in the back of her throat. The reason was clear enough for her to know. Throughout her life, Aine had always been the one waiting. Always.
Mama went to work and Aine waited for her to come home. Big Brother went to school and Aine waited for him to come back. Blaise was busy, so Aine waited for his free time (even if he most likely wouldn’t mind her interrupting him).
Aine waited, and she had never seen anything wrong with that, but right now, there was nothing else that could describe the feeling in her chest other than heartsick. A very slight one, she wanted to say, but that would be a lie.
Maybe this was why Laik had said she looked wistful. Had she been wistful without ever knowing before? It could certainly be the case, but Aine would deny that she was feeling teary. (“You look like you’re about to break into tears,” Laik had mused, and she thought he was the only one who saw that.)
(She remembered very vividly the last time she shed tears.)
The feeling she held may have stemmed from the fact that, if she chose, it could easily be remedied. It was the simple thing of having the ability to make a choice, and, bizarrely enough, choosing to make one that would no doubt put her through the discomfort of a certain degree.
In other words, deliberately doing herself a disservice. Very stupid indeed. Even if she had a concrete reason for it.
She continued to fiddle with the cord, but her eyes never moved from the blue sky.
“...”
There was a sigh.
Leorio was facing a serious problem. A terrible crisis. Possibly even bigger, grander than the one he had just faced not even 24-hours ago.
Actually, did that even make sense? Shouldn’t they have been given some sort of break after making them face something like that? They all nearly died, you know, suffocating under immense pressure was not going to be fun no matter how they went about it!
They should be given a break that didn’t turn out to be a test in disguise after all, crushing his hope and soul!
Leorio threw his hands up. “Ugh…!”
He directed a heated glare towards the white number plate his hand was clutching onto, as though if he stared long enough and gripped hard enough, some sort of mental picture might form.
It would be preferable if the picture was that of the number’s owner. Leorio had wrecked and wrecked his head, trying hard to recall any glimpses of an encounter he had had with the number, but there was none.
Absolutely nothing.
How could there be nothing, he asked himself angrily, frustrated at the lack of something. Seriously, there had to be something. Anything would do! Leorio was desperate, he was going cross-eye at this rate. He had spent many days through life-and-death situations with them, there just had to be something!
In the end, he let out a heavy huff and crossed his arms frustratedly. If he knew this was going to happen, he would have tried his damndest to remember all the numbers of the participants.
That was what everyone would do if they had the chance.
Sighing, Leorio ruffled his own hair roughly and stood up. He needed to clear his head somehow, and maybe get some clues on this mysterious 246.
On the flip side, his target wasn’t any of his friends. That was good. He wouldn’t know what to do– well, he would, but that didn’t mean Leorio wouldn’t feel trash about it despite all his talk back then at Trick Tower (the thought of going after his friends made him squirm in place.)
Even if they all seemed to have monstrous senses and strength that was times out of the norm.
(Kurapika had punched that blue-skinned prisoner so hard the concrete shattered, you know? But, to be fair, he did that because he was so angry his Scarlet Eyes activated...which was still not fair since Leorio was quite sure he wouldn't be able to shatter concrete with his bare fist even if he was furious beyond belief.
Leorio didn’t think he would be able to make Kurapika that angry without deliberately mentioning the Phantom Troupe to his face. That guy was still stupidly scary despite his appearance and temperament.
Then there was Killua, the brat of a boy who made Leorio’s blood pressure spike unreasonably almost every time he opened his mouth, who was also a professional assassin. That was enough said. An assassin. He ripped a guy’s heart with a smile on his face, for goodness’ sake!
And Gon was…well, Gon was the friendliest, but that in no way meant he wouldn’t be able to pummel Leorio to the ground if he wanted to! Gon hadn’t really fought anyone directly so far, but Leorio had working eyes and could observe from the time they had been together.
That boy was like an animal with his senses and mobility. Though, with all that said, Leorio didn’t think Gon would ever hurt him. With his straightforward eyes and honest personality, he would probably start suggesting some outrageous solution before they could even lift a finger for a fight.)
Leorio began climbing up the stairs, onto the higher deck. With an upward tilt of his head and a quick cursory glance, the small figure of Aine came into sight. She was leaning sedately onto the mast, her arms wrapped loosely around the clothed bundle he had seen her with since the first time he saw her.
He still didn't know what it was.
She was staring equally intently as she did blankly at the sky. Something about the scene made it hard for him to break the silence, and maybe it was because of that, or maybe it was because Aine looked distracted, that Leorio was more surprised than he should have been when it was broken.
“What is it?” Aine asked but hadn’t yet looked away from the sky.
(And then there was her. Oddly enough, he hardly knew anything about her, in comparison to Kurapika and Gon, who they had been with for the same amount of time.)
“Uh,” he let out, then a slight embarrassment followed soon after, having been caught off guard despite the fact that he was literally staring at her. Leorio assumed she was talking to him, so he replied, “What is what?”
“Leorio was staring,” she answered impassively, placid with her voice.
Aine didn’t seem to mind, but Leorio still gave an abashed laugh as he began walking closer. “How did you know?” he asked.
(How did she know he was there?)
Leorio didn’t think he made any loud sound that wouldn’t blend in with the rest of the anxious din on the ship, but then he must have because Aine had known he was there even though she hadn’t seen even a shadow of him.
And it must have been exclusively his, something that differed him from everyone else.
(How did she know it was him? He thought she knew, at least.)
She finally lowered her gaze, turning her head to look at him when he sat down beside her. Aine gave him a slow blink as if considering his question. “I felt it,” she said simply.
Leorio guessed he stared harder than he thought. It could also be that thing with a wacky name, the Psychic Staring Effect, was it? There was a more official name for it, he was sure, but he couldn’t remember it.
"And your footfall is yours after all," she continued.
In his honest defense, psychology wasn’t really the area he aimed for expertise in. Just the stacks of thick, dry medical books and their medical jargon were enough to fill all the space inside his head, thank you very much. It was a rocky and steep road to his dream.
"...What?" he said, bewildered by her words.
Another blink.
She seemed to be waiting for something, then, as though sensing he hadn’t the faintest clue, she spoke with no frustration, “What is it?” her face was impassive as always, but her question was with kind intent. “Leorio seems troubled.”
It was him who blinked this time, his hand unconsciously reaching upward, feeling around for the unnoticed expression Aine asked of.
“I do?” he said, feeling slightly self-conscious.
She nodded.
Then, the reason he was wandering around in the first place weltered in mercilessly.
It was a mortal crisis.
Suddenly, he couldn’t look her in the eye anymore, and Leorio felt he could understand what was so interesting about the sky Aine was staring intently at some moments ago. His eyebrows twitched. “Well, you can say that…”
Leorio feigned nonchalance, but even he could feel that it was a terrible attempt at undermining the situation. He tried holding it out, he did, and his face crumbled a few seconds later.
“It’s terrible, Aine!” he panicked anxiously and pathetically. Every second Leorio spent cluelessly about the mysterious number, his target, was every second closer to their destination. “My life will be over at this rate!”
(It wasn’t only that! He had been worried about identifying his target, but it wasn’t only him who had a target. Leorio could very well be the prey of some bloodthirsty demon (Hisoka) or strong fighters that had unfortunately taken part in this year’s Exam. How unlucky!)
“It will not,” she said decisively, easily, but still maintaining that airy vibe of hers without batting an eye at his sudden outburst or his nervous jitters.
In fact, Aine didn’t look like she was feeling anything at all while here he was, shaking in his pants and nearly out of his mind! Leorio had half a mind to grab her shoulders and shake her until she understood the situation they were in.
They were going to fight, possibly to death, in something close to a free-for-all, damnit!
“How are you so unbothered?” Leorio asked harriedly.
A small girl like her would be a prime target for the desperate bunch.
“Is there something I should be bothered by?” Aine continued unworriedly, and the urge to shake her strengthened even more as Leorio began to worry for her wellbeing (it wasn’t like anyone was going to!), then she tilted her head innocuously. “Ah. Is this about your target, Leorio? Am I yours?”
Her question brought him back to his initial worry like a bucket load of cold water had been poured onto him. Quickly, he denied. “What? No! It’s not you, it’s not any–” Leorio shouted before groaning and falling onto his back, arms stretching over his head. “Argh. Never mind that...I don’t even know who it is.”
Leorio’s eyes locked on the white fluffs, and the clouds floated by slowly without a care in the world. How nice would it be to be a cloud right now, drifting around mindlessly with no consequence or responsibility?
“You don’t?”
He heard Aine say, as blank as ever.
“You do?” Leorio asked back dismissively without expecting anything.
That was why her answer surprised him enough to make him scurry back up again. “I do,” she answered impassively, as if it wasn’t anything noteworthy, and Leorio could only hope that meant it wasn’t him or any of their friends.
His mouth opened, but no words came out, too nervous to ask the million Jenny question, because if the answer was not what he had hoped for, then he wouldn’t know what to do about it.
And, as though Aine had read his thoughts, she said, “It’s not you, Leorio. It isn’t any of you.”
Leorio’s tense muscle relaxed and he let out a breath. He was anxious for nothing. “Hah. Good to know, good to know,” he said, nodding. A beat passed. “So...how d’ya find your target?”
It wouldn’t hurt to prob some techniques from her (if there even were such things). Sure, it might be a bit shameless of him, but there were no rules against trading knowledge with other participants, and his pride was worth little compared to the Hunter License.
His future heavily depended on that rectangular Card after all! Of course, Leorio intended to repay the favor (and even if she couldn’t help him, he would still do something if Aine were to ask for his help. They were friends, y’know?).
“I knew.”
Leorio blinked confusedly. “You ‘knew’?”
She nodded languidly.
“Oh…” he said. “You mean you knew the person beforehand?”
That was lucky of her, then.
She made a move to shake her head, but stopped halfway by tilting her head slightly to the side, as if to think and consider her words, then said, “The remaining participants’ badge number.”
(The gesture was very cute, in the way that a small bunny was with its long and floppy ears, he had thought before and he thought again, his fingers itched and his heart was almost overcome with cute aggression–)
“Oh…” Leorio said again, but the more her words registered in his brain, the more twisted his expression felt, eventually a sense of disbelief took over. He made a strangled noise, shocked. “What!”
Aine yawned cutely, undermining completely what she had just revealed. “Do you want me to tell you yours?”
“I’d owe you one!”
Needless to say, Leorio jumped on the chance before any lighting had the chance to strike it down.
(Aine was like a wildcard, Leorio thought, because he hardly knew anything about her ability. She ran the first phase without breaking a sweat, apparently had keen eyes, could take down the Great Stamp (and knew its weakness too) and trekked down Trick Tower solo, even though she was somewhat air-headed, easily got lost, and weirdly couldn't swim despite doing many other things with ease.
(And she was a great cook. Leorio can still taste that dish she made for the second phase.
Thinking about it made his stomach slightly growl with longing.)
It was like she lacked common sense.
Which, to be fair, she was definitely not the only one who did.
She had that giant thing strapped on her back, and she was very small and thin, and honestly looked like she could be bruised with a poke, but there was something about her casual nonchalance about things that fitted very well with the ‘Young Lady of a rich family’ vibe she had going on.
Leorio hadn’t seen Aine show any kind of distress or worry since the beginning of their journey, and if it was a bit jarring for him, then it was because of all the kiddies he had seen so far, who looked to be somewhat well-groomed and fairly loved, were much less tough than her.
(Actually, all three of them, Killua, Gon and Aine, were so weird compared to normal kids, but they were taking the Hunter Exam while being just barely of age, so they couldn’t have been normal.)
But, most of all, Aine finished fourth in the last phase. That meant something. That said many things. If, and he doubted it wasn’t, her path was as bad as theirs, then she was definitely something, alright.)
(Also, there was this weird sense of déjà vu he kept getting, but he brushed that off as his imagination. Where would he get the chance to meet some (he was assuming) well-cared young lady anyway?)
(Leorio really felt that he did though.)
("Why is it that Leorio is so stressed on finding who your target is? I think you are at the same starting point as many others are."
"Huh?
"The phase hadn't began yet, too."
"Is that obvious? That's because knowing your target beforehand is obviously an advantage!")
Notes:
Leorio is very dramatic, and Aine is very cute. It was very convenient that they announced aloud the participants, with badge number and all, whenever they reached the bottom of trick tower lol
On another note, what kind of animals do you think they'd be? Killua's definitely a cat (with small-cat mode and big-cat mode), Gon's probably a dog, and Kurapika's....some kind of bird of prey? Leorio compares Aine to a bunny, but personality-wise, isn't she more hare-like? An arctic hare. And Leorio...he is a mystery to me.
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 22: It Lifts Some Boats and Leaves Others Stranded
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The weather was very pleasant, sunlight peeking through the canopy of juniper leaves and the distinct smell of petrichor wafting in the air lightly.
Faintly, she could also still smell the sunlight from her person.
Aine had almost fallen asleep there, had it not been for Leorio appearing just right before. It was good he came when he did, or she might have got sunburned by the time she woke up.
It never happened before, but she was warned against it and had seen first-hand from Bayu (who was apparently more sensitive to the sun than she was) how it looked and heard how it felt. It wasn’t something somebody wanted without a good reason to trade it for, Aine was certain.
(His skin was very red and warm, even if she wasn’t quite touching it and only had her hand hovering over it with lotion coating that would have mitigated his self-made suffering. In the end, even though she was worried at first, it had been his own fault.
Aine couldn’t understand why he would do that when he didn’t like sunlight very much in the first place. It was an asinine thing to do, but humans did asinine things anyway despite knowing they were asinine, so she wasn’t much surprised.
The fact that he was whining (in his own way, that was) so much made her feel bad though.
“Does it hurt, Brother?” she had asked even though she already knew the answer, not that she got any kind of answer from Bayu himself. “Why did you do it, then? Do you feel stupid now that you are suffering through an obvious outcome?”
Bayu hadn’t said anything back, but his eyes lowered and his brows pressed down before he turned away.
Apparently, Aine was being very passive-aggressive that day, that was what everyone around them at that time had said anyway.
Aine had thought she was being how she usually was.)
The first day had been a pleasant walk in nature, and by some force of the same nature, Aine hadn’t run into a single person at all, but she found a river and nearby berry bushes.
It was a peaceful night as well, with somewhat cold air and the cries of insects and nocturnal animals.
Some might say she was taking things too easy, and Aine might agree, but one of the main objectives she was out here was to see the world after all, so it made sense, didn’t it?
In fact, she saw some red butterflies on her way, crowding prettily around a new carcass of an animal, and some small frogfishes around the river. She wasn’t sure if she could call them cute or not, but they were definitely interesting.
So, she couldn’t see anything wrong with taking her time.
It was only Aine here anyway, and the person monitoring her, but they hardly counted.
She spent the second day doing the same things, but it was still very relaxing and fun anyway.
The period before dawn was chilly, but it wasn’t terribly so. Aine still shivered slightly though, carefully refreshing herself with the river that was cold and clear. The sound of chirping birds was very sweet and the scene looked to be something out of a children’s picture book.
She took a deep breath and began her morning stretch. To make sure she wouldn’t pull something funny because of some unpreparedness that Saskia would definitely scold Aine for if it were to happen.
When Aine finished, she took her yanyue dao from where it was leaning against a tree and readied her stance, falling into the familiar hold deftly.
Her eyes shut.
Calmly and slowly, her body and limbs moved in tandem with each other, hoping to achieve the fluidity Saskia had with her movements.
Although the routine itself would most likely fall apart the moment she tried to use it in actual combat, they helped immensely with strengthening the foundations the art was built on. The soft and smooth lines and cuts, with enough prowess behind to slash and pierce and nimbleness to control and deflect.
It took her the usual one hour, and when breathed out a satisfied sigh, Aine opened her eyes again and a pair of deer was standing on the other side of the river, watching her with their cute, round and beady eyes.
She was off to a good morning, Aine felt.
There was a blurry flash of white and black, and her hand flew up to shield the side of her face before Aine even saw what it was. She blinked slowly, ponderingly, as she looked down again at the green grass rather than the treetop and blue sky.
Aine looked at the item and blinked wonderingly, appropriately, at the round and white number badge.
‘197’ it said.
Was this to spite her? Or maybe it was just a coincidence?
It was a number away from her target, but since it was thrown away, even if it wasn’t their target, the person who did so must still be very confident. Their target must have been one of the brothers, who was probably with the other brothers when the badge was taken.
(A person who was cocky enough to do something like this? Killua, maybe. It could be. Did he do it to spite someone?)
Did that mean that her target badge wasn’t with its owner, the blue-shirt little brother, anymore? It was most likely thrown away too, she thought, if this one had been, so it was either lying innocently on the forest ground or stuck somewhere in the canopy of trees, or some lucky participant had it.
Should Aine aim for other people too now? At first, she had thought of going only after the blue-shirt little brother, but now, that would be more of a disadvantage and a waste of time if he didn’t even have his badge with him.
“...”
Well, maybe Aine would run into her hunter today, then she would be just one badge short of six points, or complete it if her hunter was the lucky person with her target’s badge.
They had to be searching for her right about now. It was slightly weird they had yet to find her, to be honest, because Aine wasn’t actively trying to hide herself and all she did was wander around aimlessly for the first and second day.
(Could it be that her hunter was hunted already?)
She wondered how Leorio’s search for Ponzu was going, and the others as well. She was most curious about Gon though. It looked like he had drawn the short end of the straw from how he acted after the first glance of his target.
If Aine had to guess, his target was Hisoka. Probably. Gon felt like an animal on a flight or fight mode, she thought, scared but also excited.
Could it be that he was an adrenaline junky?
Though, in his defense, the people that came so far had to be that to some certain extent.
But Gon was still a little more outré than normal anyway since going up against Hisoka was a death sentence for many. Thinking about it, Aine thought that everyone who had faced him thus far ended up dead, except Gon and Leorio.
Gon told Aine Hisoka was saying some bizarre things about Gon and Leorio passing Hisoka’s test, and that Kurapika said Hisoka was seeking someone strong enough to be a proper opponent. With how Gon was right now, it was most likely his potential that drew Hisoka to him.
Back then, from what Gon said, he had the exact same reaction he had when he knew his target was (probably, Aine hadn’t seen it after all) Hisoka. There was definitely something wrong with Gon’s wiring if that was his response to danger.
Maybe the statistics were true after all.
Hopefully, Hisoka wouldn’t kill Gon (her friend–) because if he did, that potential he had approved before would grow to nowhere when he was deep in the ground.
As for the other two, Killua had, most likely, gotten his target, and Kurapika definitely knew who his target was by the look he had. It was very faint, but there was some sort of soft, slightly satisfied, vindictive look in his eyes that disappeared within a blink.
Maybe that was just her imagination, and if it wasn’t, then the person Aine could think of for his target was Tonpa, as the only participant Kurapika had spent time with other than her and the other three, and her.
In the end, it wasn’t any of her concern who their targets were, but only that they were still alive by the end of this.
“Help us, please!”
“Hey!” Tonpa yelled desperately from where he was dangling from a tree branch of a particularly tall tree, along with another person. 118, she thought. “Help me down, please! I can help you with finding out who you’re looking for! Just helping me down is fine as well!”
118 glared at Tonpa darkly, before shouting as he tried to kick Tonpa. “You! Thinking only about yourself after getting me into this situation!”
“How is it only my fault?” Tonpa asked snidely. “You’re the stupid one who agreed to team up with me! Don’t blame me for that!”
“...”
Aine began walking again.
“Oh– hey, hey! Wait!”
She stopped for a bit, turning around and said, “I don’t need your help for anything. Goodbye, uncles.”
“Un- uncles? What did you just call- oh, no! Hey, wait, please!”
“...”
Aine didn’t meet her hunter, but she did meet someone else though.
She thought that it was a big turnover from the first two days where she ran into no one at all, because now, she had ran into five people insofar.
“H- hey, bro,” the blue-shirt little brother squeaked out, something of a whisper, oddly palling as seconds went by. “Isn’t that one of the kids around that white-haired freak?”
“...So what!” the yellow-shirt middle brother yelled roughly, but his face looked strained.
“Stop being such a coward, Imori!” a harsh slap on the back of his head was given to the blue-shirt little brother from the red-shirt big brother, then he looked at her with sharp eyes, “We were careless last time, but this time, it won’t be the same.”
(What happened last time? She might ask Killua when they see each other the next time. She wondered if he would answer her.)
Now, she knew definitely that it was Killua who had thrown the badge then, and made it so that it was more work for her and one other person. Aine didn’t think anything of it though.
With that having been said, they began to take a stance and spread out around her, with far more caution than Aine would have expected she had warranted from them, and she thought that Killua must have done a great number on them if they were acting like this.
It wasn’t that she was proud of the fact, but Aine would be quick to admit that she looked very lacking when it came to strength. A small-boned body and height that left to be desired, those couldn’t have been very imposing in anybody’s eyes no matter how one went about it.
Saskia said it wasn’t bad, because from the premature underestimations would come gainly advantages, and it would also help Aine differ who she should take seriously and who she should not. It showed an insight into her opponent’s perception and aptitude.
There was muted commiseration behind Saskia’s words, but Aine only nodded and took her words at face value. Aine wasn’t concerned about her build after all, as it was something she couldn’t do anything about, just like how she looked.
So what if she was unsatisfied with it? It was something that was already decided for her and was somewhat given to her by her mother, whether it would be Aine’s stunted growth and body structure or her face.
(Mama had said Aine was very cute and lovable, so she was very cute and lovable, even if someone was to choose to say otherwise.
Blaise and Ashleigh had said similar things before as well.
Only her important people’s words were important to her after all.
She loved her important people more than she could ever love a stranger, needless to say, so some stranger’s words wouldn’t even be able to amount more than a grain of sand in comparison to theirs.)
“Hand over your badge, little girl, so we can quickly move on without anyone getting unnecessarily injured!” the blue-shirt little brother exclaimed, his cowardice badly hidden behind his feigned confidence. "Ah, no, I mean–!"
She saw the other brothers’ faces slightly twitching, and it was apparent that they had heard the same thing in his tone but had chosen to let it go in order to properly concentrate on Aine. It was diligent of them to do so.
Not that it mattered, because they hadn’t even reacted when Aine had reached out with her thickly clothed yanyue dao, swiping the air in a round circle and knocking them backwards deftly. Their surprised cries were choked back when they smacked into the big trees surrounding the four of them.
It must have been a hard bash to their heads because they didn’t stand up again after their first attempts.
(Keeping a watchful eye on your opponents was a good idea, but it wouldn’t do much when you still couldn’t perceive what was going on.)
(The red-shirt big brother still had his badge with him, and Aine was now with five points.
AIne stared at the three white, round badges folded out like cards in her hand.
“...Lucky.”)
Nightfall arrived as thick clouds overtook the bright, starlit sky without her notice, obscuring the lofty moon as they cast a big, looming shadow over the whole island, swallowing them all in hazy dimness.
Aine inhaled as she narrowly dodged an incoming blow of Hanzo’s rapid kick. It sliced through the air with its prowess and swiftness as it arched over her, then with incredible finesse, his leg halted, just above her, the momentum gone in a blink of an eye, and it fell like a sharp ax.
Her yanyue dao swung upward, hands grasping the helve tightly as it met the harsh impact halfway through. It was cumbersome; her arms shook slightly, tingling as he pressed down harder before he leapt back nimbly when he saw that it wouldn’t fall through
“Quite tough, aren’t you?” Hanzo remarked with an even voice, but the hint of surprise could still be heard.
For a brief moment, Aine allowed herself a moment, collecting her bearings as she readied for the next, inevitable strike as Hanzo’s body slightly shifted, and within a breath, he had disappeared from her sight.
Her forehead was clammy with a thin glaze of perspiration. The bruise on her side throbbed dully in a quiet reminder, and the slight shake her hands gave was the accumulation of the strain her arms had suffered.
Blood rushed to her ear as she diverted his fist with a fluid movement of her yanyue dao, a small tilt that transformed into a full swing, the sharp blade missing his torso by a narrow margin as he leaned backwards.
“You’re very strong,” she told him.
Somehow, despite how cold the wind was after the forest had given its way to nightfall, Aine felt hot. Unbearably so. The temperature could only further continue to rise as the heat and zeal of the fight distended with time, swelling until it imploded.
Her chest was stuffy, and her heart pulsed, fluttering like a hummingbird's wings, hammering away like a jackrabbit’s. So loud and overbearing she could hear every thrum in her ears, echoing in the quietness of everything but the bare-breath sighs and rough exchange of blows and the sharp scoffing of their footfalls.
It didn’t sound like hers at all even though it was (pounding and pounding, so hard behind her ribcage that it created pain that wasn’t real. Burrowing a hole through her, maybe), not at all, but it hardly did when it was like this.
Something so foreign, something so familiar. It was something similar to Mama’s wretched, scared one, but it was more like Bayu’s anxious and fear-riddled one more.
Hanzo’s left arm flew up in an attempt to deflect while his other stretched outward, getting a tight hold of the helve and he heaved it with scary ease, lifting her off the ground in one swoop.
“I didn’t train for my whole life for nothing after all…!” he grunted out, unconcealed pride shining through in his tone, his arm tensed up and the sinews lining it clearly defined under the strain of the weight.
Aine’s eyes widened in bewilderment, but she didn’t let the start hinder her from aiming for the joint of his arm with the heel of her shoe as she bent her body briskly, maneuvering without loosening her hold on the helve.
Hanzo’s free arm grabbed a hold of her ankle, and she was tossed aside. She toppled through a tall bush (a sudden pain stung her cheek, thin and sharp, itching like her fingers did when they received a paper cut), her sole planted flatly against the uneven surface of the tree.
Before the gravity could get to her, Hanzo sprinted forward and struck again with another fast swing of his fist.
If it was to land, she thought that it would definitely rapture her organs into a pitiful mush of red.
(She thought it would, but she wouldn’t know.
Didn’t want to know, for that matter, as it would be very hard to fix back to normal. Bayu would get worried if that happened, and so would Blaise, Saskia, and everyone else. Aine didn’t want that, worrying others like that.)
When she finally fully met the tree trunk with the whole sole of her feet, her knees bent, and with a powerful tramp that had splintered the dark bark, indenting into the white flesh of the tree and leaving a print vaguely resembling a shoe.
Parrying off an attack from Hanzo, who had sprung after her without pause, made her realize that an aerial fight was not something favorable for her, who was already at a disadvantage even when they were on the ground.
Hanzo struck hard and well-thought, and Aine lost her seconds in the air faster than she would have had without his interference. Hitting the ground made jittery electricity crawl up her from the very end of her toes to the top of her head; her brows furrowed unknowingly as she quickly sidestepped from her landing point.
One foot slid back for stability, Aine kept her eyes wide, focusing intently, minutely, on the man in front of her as the sky finally cleared up, and pale moonlight pervaded her sight. Her arid throat hurt as she swallowed dryly as beads of sweat ran down the curve of her neck.
Her breathing came loudly past her parted lips.
The smooth helve was so cold it could burn her searing skin, her veins distended fully with viscous blood under her skin. Her cheeks were red-hot, bright and flushed, she didn’t doubt. It felt like all the heat had gotten to her head, overwhelmed her so much that she might become delirious.
Aine took a deep inhale, filling her lungs with cold air, and her chest full as she cooled herself off before she became stupid.
Her muscles relaxed, and her head felt clearer.
She tightened her grip, nails digging into the fleshy palm of her hand, and with one last breath, she struck.
Her blade glinted silver under the well-lit night as she thrust it in swift, unrelenting motions, moving backwards while being mindful of her position (it would be bad if she didn’t. She needed to. There was no room for careless mistakes like cornering herself–) as Hanzo lunged forward with his own attacks in response, all precise and heavy, not losing even the slightest prowess despite his speed.
He looked deeply in concentration, his brows knotted a crease between them, pressing down onto his narrowed brown eyes, and his lips thinned as his jaw clenched. A sheen of sweat coated his head, but he didn’t appear all too exhausted.
Of course, he wasn’t, she thought absently. Although he was undoubtedly taking this fight seriously, there was no way he would be giving his all here.
At least, Aine didn’t think he would, because that would be odd of him to.
Suddenly, there was a chilling sensation, traveling from her spine to every other place in her body, and Aine frowned, her hands clutching tight onto the smooth helve. It felt like someone was terribly thirsty for blood, desperate even.
“...”
Although it definitely called for her utmost attention, something that felt so nauseating, it didn’t prevent her frown from deepening even further when she realized shortly that it had distracted her from the situation at hand.
If Saskia was here, Aine would no doubt have gotten scolded very badly. It was stupid after all, the simple mistake of letting her mind wander during a fight.
“Whew! That was something wasn’t it?”
Something that was meant to lighten the atmosphere was thrown out.
Luckily, her opponent had a similar reaction as hers. “Mm,” she said, looking at the loose smile the ninja wore, but his eyes remained fully vigilant of Aine’s position. They stood a few meters away from each other, on top of the thick canopy of trees with the dark, star-dusted sky over them.
Aine thought that they might have crossed over into the fourth day already, as they had crashed quite late into the night, and some odd hours had passed by. Probably. She couldn’t claim that she had been paying an awful lot of attention to time.
“Look,” Hanzo started, placing one hand onto his hip and the other waving flippantly, “since all the previous tension has already bled out, and it seemed that this won’t be ending anytime soon, why don’t we just call it a draw and head our own ways?”
(His guard was still up.)
Just before she nodded in agreement (because he was right, and none of them wanted to go all too fiercely against each other beyond the point of slightly strenuous. It wouldn’t do to seriously injure oneself when there were still days left. And, even though he was stronger, if they continued to fight, Aine would still wear him down considerably), she mulled a little.
“Okay,” Aine said.
Hanzo nodded approvingly, his arms crossing over his chest. “Good choice, good choice,” he said. “Well then…”
“Can I ask you something?”
Aine interrupted him before he could take off.
He eyed her for a moment. “What is it?”
“What are you looking for?”
(In truth, she only asked to clear the baseless, nagging itch inside her, because what were the chances he would be that one lucky person out of all the others? The badge of the blue shirt little brother could be anywhere–)
The chances were definitely higher than one would have guessed.
(That didn’t mean it wasn’t a stupid decision anyway.
What was Aine even thinking challenging Hanzo, a person who was definitely stronger, who had more years and experience on her, to a fight–
Was what she would have thought.
But she could not, for anything, remember how, or even who, had started it.)
Thinking back about it, Hanzo seemed well-acquainted with the treetops and moved very swiftly as if he had been doing it for some time now, so that itch might have stemmed from somewhere.
(He was a ninja after all. Of course, she hadn’t met one before, but she had read of them, so if the books held certain levels of truth to them, then Hanzo had been training since young for these types of things.)
Aine shuffled the three round, white badges in her hand. She had now more than the needed number of points she needed to proceed to the next round.
It was lucky, a good encounter if Aine had to decide, but she was left tired from the fight as well, so she quickly found a place to recuperate for the night. Then, when she felt refreshed again in the morning, Aine could loaf around the rest of her time on Zevil Island.
Maybe she might even run into some of the others, and perhaps assist them somehow. With that in mind, she leaned back onto the thick tree and closed her eyes.
The sound of running water and quiet cries of the animals and insects slowly dimmed from her as sleep pervaded easily, not that it ever disappeared completely. It did one good to have some level of awareness in an unfamiliar environment.
(It wasn’t as though Aine needed the badge, not when she already had achieved the six-point goal.
So, honestly, she didn’t need to trade badges with Hanzo, but she did anyway because she felt he had done a lot for them before.)
Notes:
Thank you for reading :D
Chapter 23: Of all the Gin Joints in all the Towns in all the World
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It happened while Aine was ambling around that she discovered what the source of the bloodlust last night was, and she couldn’t say she was really surprised by the finding. What had managed to surprise her, however, was Gon.
Gon was eerily close in proximity to Hisoka, who had a disturbing look on his face, like he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into some poor person that would be unfortunate enough to cross paths with him. The only reason Aine hadn’t become the ‘poor person’ was because she was far enough from the metaphorical minefield.
And she was also quite confident with her ability to conceal herself, to a certain extent, as it was enough to hide from Saskia for a long while after all. (She had been quite proud of that). Aine didn’t know how long Gon had been following Hisoka, but it was very impressive all the same.
He was like an animal on a hunt, like a tiger crouching amidst the tall grass, waiting for the chance to pounce on his prey. His presence completely erased, blending in with his surroundings seamlessly, so much so that Hisoka had yet to notice.
(The only reason Aine even knew he was there was because she had been looking for him.)
After observing for a moment more, she decided to quickly move on. He didn’t need any help, and Aine hardly wanted to ruin whatever plan Gon had in motion.
She only hoped he succeeded, and that he remembered Hisoka was not the only one he needed to watch out for. Aine looked a little away from him, to the dark skinned man hiding within the trees. With brief consideration, she had decided to leave it alone and trust Gon to be able to handle himself.
The people following the participants around belonged to the Hunter Association and were most likely observing and judging them for something, so for her to blatantly help Gon like that would probably interfere with their judgment and set Gon’s ability askew in their eyes.
(Whatever it was for, she didn’t know, but it couldn’t be anything other than them judging the participant because they weren’t here to reinforce nonexistent rules.)
But Aine was definitely going to find him again and check on him at some later time.
Killua was bored. Very bored. Which went against the very point of him coming here in the first place, the famed Hunter Exam. He had been walking for two days now, aimlessly and goallessly, and one could say that he was suffering from success.
His luck had been very good, with his target coming running into his waiting arm with no effort on his part…that was what he thought at first, but maybe it wasn’t lucky as he had first assumed. Because Killua had nothing to do now, and he hadn’t ran into a single participant despite his wandering.
What were the chances? He didn’t know how big the island was, but there must be a lot of people wandering around right now, desperate to reach the fixed points required. It would be nice if he ran into Gon, he thought, but then he remembered who Gon’s target was and quickly erased the thought.
Normally, other people would probably come up with a new plan and go after the one-point badges to fulfill the requirement, instead of going after that madman Hisoka. That clown was seriously creepy, Killua shivered with disgust and slight discomfort.
There was always a thin veil of bloodlust around him that made Killua’s hair stand on end, and set alarms blaring inside his head (it was weird. So weird. His blatant aversion to that man. Sure, Hisoka was revoltingly dangerous, but still. Something wasn’t right. What wasn’t right? His head throbbed–).
But Gon was clearly not ‘other people’ as shown by his strange reaction to knowing Hisoka was his target. Really, there must be something wrong with him, a screw or two loose maybe. Killua nodded along to his own thought, certain that it was true.
What a weirdo.
Well, even if Gon was really weird, he was still Killua’s first friend.
He could only hope Gon survived the phase.
“...”
…And the other three, too, he guessed.
There was a rustle.
Aine took her eyes off the pair of hopping, bunnies with soft, brown coats that she could still feel around her ankles and fingertips. They really had sensitive ears, and were very jumpy, to run away the moment they sensed danger.
They were also very cute.
“Oh,” Killua said, stepping out from the thicket, “It’s you.” he looked as he did the last she saw him. There wasn’t any sign of scrimmage or fatigue. In fact, he looked quite bored.
Given that he had finished his task the second day, it may be that he was also loafing around like Aine was. “There’s a leaf in your hair,” she remarked as he walked closer.
(Killua’s hair seemed terribly soft, and she wanted to touch it.
Aine couldn’t though, Killua wouldn’t let her, definitely not.)
“...”
He roughly tousled his hair, and the small leaf fell slowly, falling and falling, until it lightly touched onto the clear surface of the river and got carried away by the calm stream. Down and further away, joining all the other leaves, until she couldn’t see it anymore.
It was the direction Aine was following before she was stopped by Killua’s appearance. She didn’t know where the river was ending, but that was why she was following it. It might be a lake, or it might be the ocean, and maybe along the way, Aine would run into someone.
And she did, although it was the other person who ran into her instead of the other way around.
To be honest, Aine somewhat thought that he would go his way after knowing that it was her, but that hadn’t been the case. Killua fell into step with her when he saw she began walking again, and for a little while, they didn’t talk.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Aine answered honestly, “I’m loafing.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
It didn’t sound like he meant for it to be mean.
“I don’t. Killua is loafing as well.”
“What? No, I’m not. I’m exploring the island.” he retorted quickly. “How would you know that anyway? Maybe I’m looking for my target. Actually, you could be my target.”
Denying so much made him seem even guiltier.
“You threw badges away.”
He halted, then Aine did too. Killua had an odd look on his face when she stared back at him. “...Are you stalking me or something?” he asked with misplaced concern, slowly inching away from her.
“No,” she shook her head. “It headed right in my direction.”
“...?” he furrowed his brows. “...The badge?”
“Mm.”
“And how would you know that it was me who threw it?” he continued.
“Because,” Aine started, “Killua’s the only one with white hair after all.”
Killua looked at her very confusedly, incredulously, one eye slightly twitching and his lips pressed into a thin line, before groaning, annoyed. “Would it kill you to make some sense for once?” he asked.
Aine blinked blankly at the weird question. “It wouldn’t,” she answered.
They held eye contact for a few seconds.
“Bah!” Killua broke the silence and walked ahead of her, only stopping when he noticed she hadn’t followed along. “What are you just standing there for? Let’s go!”
“Where are we going?” her head tilted slightly as she asked, but she began ambling forth anyway. When she didn’t get an answer and turned to look at him, he had a pinched, dissatisfied expression on his face. “Killua’s pouting,” Aine said offhandedly.
Quickly, he hissed and argued back, “Your eyes have gone bad.”
“No, they have not. My eyes are working perfectly fine.”
“If they are working, then you wouldn’t have said what you’ve said before!”
“There’s nothing wrong with pouting, Killua, I have been told it’s very cute.” Aine reassured him earnestly.
A ruddy flush took his pale skin in a haste.
(It was as quick as it would be with Bayu.)
“You’re turning–”
“Ah! Don’t say stupid things, stupid!” he yelled, interrupting her before she complete her sentence, “And you have the nerve to say your eyes are working!”
Killua powered ahead of her.
“But they are,” Aine insisted, following with even pacing after him. “And Killua shouldn’t raise his voice so much; it’s noisy.”
There was a strangled and very frustrated sound from him. “Stupid people don’t get to tell me what to do!”
“Why is it that I am stupid?”
“You just are!”
“Killua is being unreasonable, does he know that?”
He whirled around and stampede back to her, before unceremoniously tugged on her hair with a scowling face. “Can it!”
Shafts of sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, casting dappled patterns on the ground as Aine and Killua continued their wordless exploration.
One step after another.
There were two people here, but there was only one footfall. How strange was that? Even though Aine’s was very quiet, Killua’s couldn’t be described at all because there was nothing, even as they walked through a pile of crumpling brown leaves, or thin, fallen sticks.
Very strange, but somehow, also very good. It was a good skill to have, Aine thought, eying the low-hanging fruit not too far away, if she wasn’t paying attention, she wouldn’t even know that he was right there.
It was yellowy green, with a bumpy rind and oddly shaped. Like a misshaped oval. Aine had eaten it before, a jackfruit, she remembered the taste of it very well. It was sweet, but it didn’t have a taste of its own, only a mixture of other fruits.
Blaise, Bayu and her couldn’t come to an agreement about the taste of it, and the servants had tasted it as well, and they all were equally divided about it. In the end, they reached no conclusion at all.
In her opinion, it didn’t really matter what it tasted like because they all ate it anyway because it tasted good.
Aine’s view turned blurry all of a sudden, and there was a tugging grip on her right foot. “Ah.”
What is this girl doing?
His fingers wound tight around Aine’s forearm (there was only a thin layer of skin and tight muscles separating them from her bone–).
A flicker of surprise crossed Killua's face as he registered the unexpected weight, prompting a slight frown. Without hesitation, he readjusted his hold and effortlessly pulled her upright again.
The frowning continued as he puzzled, staring hard at her. She was small and thin. The smallest out of them all, in fact. There was no way she would weigh that much, even if all of her was only muscles and nothing else.
She turned around, “Thank you.”
Her tone was neutral, lacking the surprise one would be expected to have when they had nearly plummeted head-first onto the ground. Like it nothing had happened at all, despite her rumpled hair and the oddly-positioned sling bag, just barely hanging on her shoulder.
Looking, he realized it was the polearm on her back.
“Like I said, your eyes are bad,” was his reply.
At this, her brows pressed together lightly as she looked at him with a tilt of her head, but there was no other reaction. “But they aren’t,” she said, “They still get a full score.”
He stayed silent for a moment, then asked quietly, “...Are we still talking about the same thing?” but her attention had already strayed off him and back to the fruit again.
There was something wrong with her, he decided, ruffling his hair in frustration.
(After watching her as she continued to make a casualty out of herself a few more times, he began to doubt if the white adhesive bandages plastered onto her face might be from a fight at all, but instead from the danger she was causing herself.
One of these days, she was going to stab herself with her polearm–)
Killua stared at her, his fingers stained purple red just like hers, and the corner of his mouth. “It’s edible?” he asked, although she didn’t see the point of him asking if he had already eaten it even before her.
Aine waited until she finished chewing the last of the berries and took out her handkerchief, wiping the stain away, and answered. “I think so,” she said, and began folding the handkerchief so that the dirty side didn’t show.
“If you only think so, then don’t go tossing it in your mouth, stupid.”
She blinked. “But Killua did the same thing.”
“That’s because poison doesn’t work on me,” he said, and didn’t give anymore.
“Why so?” Aine asked.
“I’m trained for it.”
It was like he was saying things with the idea that she would already know the context of whatever he was talking about. “Why?” was there something he told her that she couldn’t remember? Aine didn’t think that was the case, but it could be, even though they barely talked.
“I’m an assassin, that’s why,” he simply said, looking at her with an odd focus, searching for something as his eyes roamed her face.
Aine didn’t know what he wanted, so she didn’t say anything other than, “Oh. Alright,” before continuing to pluck more of the berries from the bushes.
She really didn’t think they were poisonous, but if they were, it was only a small dosage.
(It wasn’t that she was completely immune to poison like Killua, but Saskia had somewhat prepared Aine for some unlikely scenario.
“Better be prepared than not, little one,” she liked to say often. Aine could see why, and she could also see how discouraged her action of simply eating unknown things was.)
Thinking carefully, the mystery of Killua’s footfall, or lack thereof, had now been solved. He didn’t have any because he was an assassin. It was strange before, but now that she knew why, it wasn’t as strange anymore.
“...So weirdos do flock together,” he said after a bout of reticence.
Aine frowned, confused.
He liked saying random things, she thought. “You’re friends with us too, Killua, does that mean you’re a weirdo as well?” she asked, reaching out with the handkerchief so she could wipe the corner of his mouth.
The stain got there because he touched it with his purple red fingertip.
“...”
Killua let her clean it, but it was with clear reluctance. When she was finished, she tucked the handkerchief back into her dress pocket again. “Should we get going?”
He tugged on her hair again and stumped off with a huff.
When night fell, they didn’t stray far from the riverside, the clearing illuminated by the orange heat of the small campfire. The moon wasn’t there again, and neither were the stars, just like yesterday. Maybe later, she thought, a few more hours.
The firewood crackled loudly in the quiet, between the two of them, gray smoke rising into a shapeless form.
If Aine didn’t glance to the side, to where Killua was, it would just be like there was only her here.
His white hair looked like it was slightly glowing, orange like the fire, his nose pointed forward as he stared intently at the steady stream of the cold river
Somehow, it was both cold and warm.
They didn’t really talk much. Not an awful lot, at least, not like if there were three or four, instead of two. They never did, and Aine wasn’t surprised by that. There were exchanges of words, but those were small in numbers, and proper conversations came by once every few hours.
It was like this; if there wasn’t a reason for it, then there would be no need for talking.
And so they remained reticent.
She rested her chin on her knees, her eyes falling shut.
Beyond the wall of trees, the distant murmur of the ocean reached the Aine’s ears, a subtle reminder that beyond the treeline, was white, grainy sand and boundless blues, far away, until the horizon disappeared, to the land seen only by the sun.
(Surpassing even that, further–)
It was quiet, but it wasn’t silent.
Animals cried. Something howled and something hooted, something moved and the leaves rustled, water splashed and the wind spun.
They were in the middle of nowhere, it reminded them, stranded with no way to run.
Not that there was a need to.
After all, they were all here for a purpose.
The moon was out and the stars were visible. They doused the campfire shortly after and began walking again.
In the dark, as they continued their path, something glowed luminescence, small buzzing lights, floating just above the high grass. Then they rose higher and higher, over the river and along the wind. They were almost like stars, almost like small little suns, and almost like fairy lights.
Will ‘o wisp, maybe.
Very pretty.
The river forked unevenly and they came to a temporary stop.
He blinked, dismounting his skateboard and turned to look at her. “Now what?”
“Right,” she said, then began walking in that direction without a pause or a glance back.
Killua stared a little at her, his brows furrowing (this weirdo was really going at her own pace–), then he shook his head lightly, flipped his skateboard and snatched it mid-air before he strolled into steps with Aine.
A few hours later, they stumbled upon a lake, and the river ended. So, they began to diverge from it, Aine wanted to say, but it was her who diverged, and Killua who followed.
They met no one, oddly enough.
It was only the third day. There was no way everyone had already gone into hiding, could it? Or were they still cultivating their plans?
Aine wondered if Gon’s plan succeeded.
Or did it fall through?
He was so focused on Hisoka that he ignored everything else, so she worried a little. After all, she doubted he even noticed that Geretta was there, waiting for his chance as well.
It wasn’t only that she didn’t want to interfere with Gon’s performance that she didn’t help him (would it really be helping him?) but also because if she did do anything, Hisoka would most likely notice and that might cause a snowball effect.
She didn’t want to sabotage Gon. And.
“...”
And, somehow, she didn’t think that he would appreciate it.
But maybe Aine got it wrong, and she should have helped him anyway. In the first place, was a person’s ego and pride more important than their–
Hm.
Than their…
Killua’s voice pierced through her train of thought. “Than their what?” he looked at her straightforwardly, with blue eyes that were bright under the midnoon’s sun, his skin and hair even paler under the sharp light, looking at her the way a cat would, very intently and searching.
Aine blinked slowly.
“...physical health and mental well-being?” she finished, a little confused as well, it was more a question to herself more than a continuation.
He snorted, looking away. “What’s that even?”
(Was honoring their wish really more important than everything else?)
“I don’t know,” she answered.
“You’re such a weirdo, seriously,” he mocked lightly.
Killua liked saying that.
“Ah, mm…” Aine said, then decided with a nod, “Let’s go find the other one.”
Since he said the word so much, he must be missing that person quite a bit.
She nodded to herself again.
In a small, perplexed voice, he said, “...What?”
She wondered how good Killua’s tracking skill was.
(Well, a promise was a promise.)
“Aine, you…” Killua started, but his voice was slightly muffled by the ruffling leaves and wind. “Why the heck did you stop after walking for so long, and suddenly start climbing the nearest tree without a word?”
That was where they were last, Aine recounted to herself, so they shouldn’t have strayed too far. It hadn’t even been a full day yet after all.
She and Killua came from the north, so it wasn’t that way or anywhere close to the body of the river, and east was where she presumed Hisoka had come from (Aine couldn’t say for sure, but that was the general direction of that ill at ease bloodlust–), so the possibility of them going that way wasn’t high either.
Unless Hisoka gave chase.
But this was only a simple process of elimination that was full of faults. She couldn’t really predict or read the unpredictability of the situations or incidents that might have happened.
“I wanted a high vantage point,” she told him. “Killua could have just waited on the ground.”
He must be really bored, Aine thought.
“Well! If you had told me what you wanted to do, then maybe I would have!” he hissed loudly, tugging on her hair again.
She turned to look at him, a hand reaching out and plucking the green leaf sitting stark against his disheveled hair. “You have a leaf in your hair.”
Killua gave her an exasperated, annoyed look, “...Not only do you have bad eyes, but your ears are also bad, huh!”
Aine frowned. “I’m hearing you just fine…”
She trailed off, focusing intently on the sight over Killua’s shoulder.
“Then answer my question!” he roared.
“We can go now,” she informed and began making her way down again, but for a bit and said, “Oh, right. We’re going to find the other one, since Killua seems to miss him.”
There was a deep, frustrated groan muffled by the wind. “The other what!”
For Aine, whenever someone repeatedly talked about a specific thing for a period of time, for several occasions, that must mean that they were missing it quite a bit.
Like that one time when, after Aine had shown the Flowering Dance she had learned from Grandma Mu to Mama, Mama couldn’t stop talking about it for a long while with a feverish sort of enthusiasm.
(“Oh, you were like a little flower fairy, Baby. Very pretty and cute.”
“Mama is like a fairy as well.”)
(“You and your little body moved so elegantly, my baby.”
“Thank you, Mama.”)
And it went on for some time, so Aine asked her, after taking some time to think, with a puzzled blink, “Mama, do you want Aine to dance for Mama again?” if that had been the case, she couldn’t understand why Mama hadn’t just said so, instead of simply looking at Aine with that longing look in her eyes.
When Mama’s smile was as bright and pretty as a fairy’s, Aine could only feel more puzzled. “Mama would really like to see it again,” Mama said with a nod, only to add, “But only if my little Aine wants to.”
“Aine wants to.” she said, before she tilted her head. “Mama should ask if you want to see it again. Aine always wants to if Mama wants,” she told Mama straightforwardly, not sure what else to say.
(She still loved the abstruse Mama, though.)
Laik was like that sometimes, unlike Blaise, who said what he wanted clearly without beating around the bush. So did Ashleigh and Valerie, now that she thought about it, and that made Aine wonder if it was just a trait of that family.
(Could that even be a trait?)
But it wasn’t bound to roundabout words only, there were actions as well.
Bayu wasn’t very fond of expressing himself with words, or expressing himself at all. He kept his thoughts and words tightly wound around him like a vice, and when he let them loose, they were often vicious and callous.
It might be because he wasn’t very fond of people either.
Truthfully, Aine thought that that personality of his made him very cute.
He would be very angry at her if she told him that though, so Aine made sure to keep it to herself as best as she could.
That made him cute as well.
(She loved Bayu very much, she had been told by Sophia.
Of course, Aine already knew that.)
She thought the way he would never outrightly say what he wanted, but would always unconsciously, unknowingly, tell her anyway was very endearing. Because, at the end of the day, Bayu was a dishonestly honest person after all.
Like when Bayu’s eyes would flicker briefly to her when there happened to be something on his mind that he couldn’t discard, and when Aine, in due course, asked him what was wrong, Bayu would only stare hard at her, and turned away silently again, almost sullenly like a husky who didn’t get his wish.
“Brother Bayu, what’s wrong?” she would ask him, moving in front of him to look him in the eyes, and then she would ask, “Do you want something from Aine?”
Normally, there would be a very long bout of silence before an answer was squeezed out.
“Zongzi,” Bayu would whisper out as he averted his gaze, and only that, and it wouldn’t be long before they sat at the dining table together.
Maybe he would just slowly look out the window into the sunlit garden without saying a word, and then they would find themselves out some moments after.
(He was somewhat a difficult person as well, in a different way from Mama.)
Those moments would always make Aine happy.
Emerging from the thick foliage, Aine stepped into a wide forest glade, but stopped just short, only lingering by the edge. She looked up, head tilting just enough. And it was bright, her eyes squinted involuntarily under her hand that was rose to shade them from the glaring light, the harsh sun blinding amidst the pale blue sky.
There wasn’t any cloud as far as she could see.
Something fell harshly onto her head, pressing it down and down until there were only her shoes and the green grass in her sight. “Don’t just stand there and look into the sun, stupid,” Killua said before removing his hand from her.
Aine blinked; her eyes were itchy and there were dark spots. She blinked a few more times. “Aine forgot.”
“What?” Killua asked, “Well, whatever. C’mon! Are you going to just stand there and worsen your already bad eyes, or are you gonna do whatever we're here for?”
“Mm,” she said.
“Then get on with it,” the sound of his voice faded.
She looked up. Killua had walked a good distance away from here and stopped with a pensive expression on. His face was quiet, very neutral as he stared down a patch of ground.
Aine walked to where he was.
A faint streak of blood marred the grass, the dark and congealed liquid tracing a path from the depths of the forest to its current location, where it gathered into a small pool. Not too far from there was a combination of masticated grass and dried bile.
Pretty butterflies batted their sanguine wings in the corner of her sight as the sound of faint buzzing reached her ears.
“Were you looking for that or something?” Killua asked with an even voice, thumbing to the side for her eyes to follow.
To the decapitated head of Geretta.
Expression of pure terror and silent shock permanently etched into his features. Eyes blown wide the size of dinner plates and bloodless lips parted into a neverending scream.
His body was nowhere to be found.
“Not that person,” Aine answered, shaking her head. “but he shouldn’t be too far from here.”
Killua crossed his arms. “And who is ‘he’?”
She tilted her head, “Gon, of course.”
And so, they ventured into the woods once again, into the ragged and disorderly woods, where trees grew in their most natural formation, and vines slithered like thick drapes, the ground covered by overgrown grass that took hold of her ankles when her attention strayed further than it should have, and insects clattering and small animals obscured.
Lights were eaten away by the veiling shadow the deeper they went.
“How far did that idiot go?” Killua asked with a slightly irate tone. “Wasn’t he drugged or something?”
“Gon needs somewhere he can hide away for a few days,” she said, parting the high grass, “I think he got paralyzed by Geretta.”
Still, it was because of that Aine found it so impressive of him to have reached so far into the woods. The toxin should be strong, she assumed, for him to have overcome it, Gon really was as stubborn as a mule.
He shot her a look from over his shoulder after thinking about it for a moment, “...Who?”
“The head,” Aine answered.
“Oh,” Killua said, “Why paralyzed–" and stopped shortly with a scowl, "these grass are so annoying!”
She hesitated. “It’s because Geretta was…a huntsman?” admittedly, she hadn't been most attentive while Tonpa was talking.
Killua stopped in front of a particularly large tree that had fallen in their path, towering over both of their height. He looked around for a little while, came to a decision, and turned towards a direction that was riddled with obstacles but wasn’t enough to obstruct a determined, drugged person.
Even someone as stubborn as Gon couldn’t have mustered enough energy to take the original path after all.
“Wouldn’t some fast-acting poison be better?” he countered, “Also, why did that sound like a question?”
“He was a huntsman,” she reaffirmed, “But it’s primarily because he must have had many chances and that he was indebted to Gon. Ah, but, it could also be because he had some sadistic tendencies and liked to watch people helplessly struggle.”
Although the colors were generally muted around here, sometimes, a bright, vibrant pigment would jump out boldly and confidently. A slick-body frog, a red dotted mushroom, a group of full-petals flowers that bloomed like dresses, and all other variants of floras and faunas.
Poisonous, all of them.
“So you think he had been with Gon from the beginning?”
In an environment where everything else was subdued and indistinctive, the things that attracted attention would always and always be dangerous,
“It would be easy,” she said.
Their badges were out on full display, unlike all the other participants.
Basically, it would be stupid not to. Especially when Gon was the last one to take off from the ship, so it would make for a golden opportunity for his hunter, Geretta, to tail him from the very beginning without the hassle of having to find him.
“...Well, if he hadn’t, then he was stupid,” Killua noted easily, shrugging. “We’re practically screaming ‘come at me,’ with bright neon, red targets on our heads after all.”
Aine nodded along.
She hadn’t seen the hind or head of anyone who was after her yet, though.
“Gon!” Killua started, hurrying over to Gon, who was resting within the somewhat spacious hollow of a large tree.
He was completely out cold, not even a twitch of his eyes could be seen even when he was shaken by the shoulders once, and twice. Aine watched for a little bit, sighing lightly, then walked over to him as well, but didn’t squeeze herself into the hollow.
Even if it was spacious, three people may make it so that it felt cramped.
Though she didn’t join them, she kneeled down at the entrance and observed silently. Inside, there were nutshells and fruit peels placed on the ground not too far away from him, and a little squirrel staring at them, frightened.
She felt herself smiling slightly while looking at it.
Gon’s eyebrows were furrowed, lips thinned, and his face was slightly scrunched up and lined with a layer of dirt and grime. His body was raising rhythmically, properly, albeit slowly, so his respiratory was fine.
(If it wasn’t, then he wouldn’t–)
His left cheek was bruised purple and blue, and was tender like an overripe fruit, swelling to nearly the size of her fist, and the corner of his mouth seeped red, busted.
Underneath his eyes were slightly darkened circles that weren’t there before. Aine wondered if it was from the toxin, or was it from his exhaustion.
“Killua,” she called, giving him a reproaching stare, “Stop that. Gon’s simply resting. I don’t think he has been sleeping a lot the last few days.
“...”
“And, even if that wasn’t the reason, I also don’t think it’s good to disturb a patient ailed by a toxin like that.”
Killua huffed a breath, avoiding her gaze, but stopped his gesture of poking Gon’s bruised cheek like he had done with Leorio’s some days ago.
His worries had most likely vanished after he had a few moments to look at Gon’s condition, coming to the same conclusion as her.
“First, let’s clean him up,” Aine said, removing her bag from her person and laying it carefully beside her as she moved closer to Gon when Killua gave way.
As she slowly moved closer, she came to a realization of the fault of her plan, the grass was damp and scratchy underneath her knees and there was little light the hollow had to offer.
This would make things more difficult, she thought absently, taking a moment, and then she blinked. If going inside wasn’t optimum, then she just had to move him out. Slowly, Aine began maneuvering Gon with deft hands, carefully and gently.
With his head supported on her knees, Aine began cleaning him with deliberate and trained movements. The wet wipe felt cold as her fingertips grazed it, plucking it out of its package. There was a slight flinch from Gon as it touched his face, and he frowned.
She lightly caressed his head, pushing his hair from his temple in a comforting manner that she learned from Mama (Soft and gentle and loving. Mama always did–) before continuing. Starting from his soft, round cheek to the line of his nose, and down to the curve of his jaw, slowly and carefully.
After then was his warm skin visible, littered with little scratches and cuts of its own, proudly, boldly, almost, from how they scattered without care, almost like a decorum for his stubbornness and persistence.
She dropped the dirty wet wipe and exchanged it with a new one.
Gon let out not a cry as she moved onto his tender bruise, cleaning it with all the gentleness she had learned to have with things like this.
It was quiet. So very quiet.
Only, there was the sound of rustling leaves as the silver wind passed through, like the breath of the forest, and for the heartbeat, it must be the cries and buzz and distant sounds of its inhabitants. The small squirrel scurried to and fro, restless, but never did it run out of the hollow.
Killua sat beside her, unmoving, with a concentrated stare from his intent, observing eyes, his foot nudging his skateboard to and fro in an idle motion.
(They made no sound as if they had no voice, but that was how it had been, reticent when there hadn’t been a need to break it.
And in the solitude of the deep forest, it was so very quiet.)
Before long, Aine was finished, and Gon was cleaned, left only with a battered face and bruised skin. He lay nestled on her knees, still unconscious without a twitch. Softly, she thumbed his eyebrow as she contemplated, eying the extreme contusion.
She reached inside her bag to take out the salve jar and smeared her fingers with it, looking at Gon as her brows pressed a little closer.
Was he always this defenseless, or was this just because he was especially tired? How could he simply sleep through all of this, when he was moved and prodded for some minutes straight?
Her fingers trailed from each scratch and cut to the edges of the yellowing bruise. He should at least wince a little. It hurt, didn’t it?
Was he really that dead to the world?
With the way it was going, he would probably start kicking around very soon, seeing how energetic he normally was in his sleep.
“...”
Aine added a little bit of pressure to her finger while her lips pursed unknowingly, pressing down onto his unbruised cheek.
It was soft.
Gon’s face was smooth and free of worry, as if at ease with the situation. If anything, it seemed that the corner of his mouth was slightly tilting upward.
There was a certain peace she had, watching him sleeping so sloppily like this, but…
Aine looked around her.
It was slightly dark and gloomy, with the occasional bright colors that sprung up in her eyes. It was beautiful, in her opinion, despite it all, and also lacking.
Her finger rapped softly against her chin, then looked to the side. Killua was sitting at peace, cross-legged as he leaned back against the tree stump, his cheek pressed onto his palm. If she was to guess, then it would be that he was bored.
“Killua?” she called.
His ennui-filled gaze flickered towards her carelessly. He didn’t say anything, but it was enough of an acknowledgement for her to continue.
“Can you lend Gon your back?”
At this, he fully turned her way, as if to help comprehend her. Killua stared hard at her before slowly saying, “...are we moving?”
She nodded.
“Then just say–” he stopped himself, and took a deep breath, settling with fixing her with his narrowed eyes. “What do you want to do?”
Aine blinked. “Move?”
Killua pressed his lips thin. “Yes. We have established that. I’m talking about what you want to do after we move, idiot. Actually, where do you even want to go?”
“Oh,” she said, nodding at his question. “I think this place is a bit inconvenient for us even though it is a good place to stay low, so I want us to move somewhere more convenient.”
“And where would that be?” he said, like a challenge, but he was already brushing his shorts, and shifted until he was crouching right beside her and Gon with his back bared towards them.
Carefully, without missing a beat, Aine lifted Gon up from her knees and pushed him up sufficiently so that his back was pressed onto her front, her arms looping around him as she maneuvered them around each other.
Transferring him onto Killua’s back was a slow and meticulous process, with both her and Killua being diligent to the way Gon was resting, adjusting him so that he was well-supported and fairly comfortable, as much as he could be, at least.
When Killua got a good hold on Gon, he turned around to face her while she picked up Gon’s backpack and fishing rod, and Killua’s skateboard, then stood up, looking at him as well.
“...”
He carried Gon with a sort of effortlessness, she thought, like the extra weight wasn’t there at all. Killua made sure that Gon’s head was braced properly with the curve of his shoulder, and there was a firm hold to the bend of Gon’s legs, ensuring that there would be no shift as they moved.
Killua didn’t look awkward at all.
(Unlike Bayu).
He looked very used to it.
(So very unlike Bayu.)
Killua raised an eyebrow. “So?”
Aine wondered if he had a younger sibling.
(Big Brother was very awkward the first time he had to carry her, so awkward that it made her laugh a lot. It made it so that her arms were left with small, little red marks from his bony fingers.
And then he wanted to make up for it because he was good like that, but she shook her head and said, “They are very cute, brother.”
That made him confused for a moment before his face flushed a bright red, and his hand was clamped onto her hair before any of them knew it, tugging it as he usually did.
He took a while to figure out what she had meant.
These little embarrassed gestures of his were very cute in her opinion, and she cherished them very much.)
Notes:
Killua! (Haven't seen a lot of him, huh.) And Gon! (Though he isn't very conscious at the moment.)
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 24: Bruised Fruit Is the First to Ripen
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“I thought you wanted to lay low,” Killua mused.
Aine tilted her head slightly, reaching out to pick up another thin branch, and placing it into the pile in front of her, surrounded by a ring of stones. “I don’t really care about that,” she answered him candidly. “We should be fine as long as things don’t go south.”
Killua hummed. “Good. Because if you think we can still lay low while starting a fire by a riverside, then I would have to start mourning about being stuck with an idiot.”
They couldn’t move around much anyway, with Gon unconscious, so there weren’t a lot of decisions to make from the situation they were in. Unless her hunter decided to suddenly pop up out of nowhere, then they should relatively be in the clear for the rest of the phase.
All of their hunters had already been dealt with, so to speak.
The biggest threat to everyone on this island would be Hisoka, but that person had already met the six points requirement.
That was what she thought, at least, since his badge was with Gon.
(Hisoka… seemed like the type of person who would sabotage himself for some entertainment, but that wasn’t what had happened, Aine didn’t think.)
She looked at Gon.
Not once had he woken up throughout their whole trip.
He was lying on the white towel Aine had found from his stuff, laid out on top of his backpack. He wasn’t sprawling, but he wasn’t stiff in place either.
Draping, warm sunlight scattered across his body, in bits and pieces, through the foliage of the canopy.
The sight looked peaceful enough.
On his face, however, was another story. The bad contusion had fortunately decreased in its size, but the discoloration had worsened significantly. Now, it really did look like an overripe fruit, and when she had pressed a wet handkerchief onto it, it felt as tender as one as well.
There was a crease between his eyebrows, and his expression was pinched.
It would disappear again soon, she knew, that was how it had been for a while now, easing into a carefree look instead. Occasionally, Gon would mutter something as well, but neither she nor Killua could decipher what was being said.
To be honest, those mutters sounded quite funny, and the faces he would sometimes make, too.
Aine sighed a little, then looked away.
With all the branches assembled, she dumped a handful of leaves into the mix, making sure that it spread and covered evenly. The leaves were about the size of her palm, all dried up and crumbled very easily when she pinched too hard.
She cast a glance to the side, where Killua was sitting. There was an especially concentrated, feline-like look on his face, and his eyes gleamed with bright giddiness, staring intently at the flowing, clear river, where the hook of the fishing rod sank.
The red float could be seen just above the surface.
Killua looked like a cat waiting for its prey, patiently and amusedly waiting for it to come out of its hiding spot with great attentiveness, where his well-groomed tail swish-swooshed in a slow, eager manner behind him.
(Or like a child that had gotten their grubby hands on the toy they had been vying for–)
“Doesn’t Killua know that the more eager you are for something, the less likely it is to happen?” she asked, brushing her hands together.
Everything that could go wrong would go wrong, was Murphy’s law, although it was a little negative way to view the world, it could still be true for someone.
With how excited he was, Aine felt that the fishes would also feel it and, consequently, avoid that particular area like a plague. It would be interesting if that happened, but she didn’t want Killua to be in a bad mood from being an example to that principle.
His eyes snapped towards and he glared meanly, “Who says I’m eager!”
Aine tilted her head languidly and repeated, “Who says?”
The river rippled slightly, and the red, fishing float bobbed up and down.
“Oh, look,” she started. “You caught some–”
Killua had already turned away before she could finish her sentence. “Seriously?”
Who said it, she wondered.
What was the point of denying it so vehemently if he was going to act like this anyway? Killua was a little weird, Aine thought, brushing her skirt as she stood up. “Killua,” she said, looking at him, who seemed distressed and slightly agitated.
“Not now! Not now– ah.” he cut himself, reeling in a fishless line. “It got away?”
“It got away,” Aine nodded, then added, “It might be easier for Killua to use his hands if he wants to catch a fish.”
“Bah!” Killua said, a heated glare directed itself at Gon’s fishing rod before declaring, fiery passion radiant with a call for vengeance. “No way am I gonna let myself be defeated like this. It’s just fishing. Just wait, by the end of the day, there won’t be any fish left un-fished!”
Never mind the fact that he didn’t know heads or tails with his way around the fishing rod just under an hour ago and that he was squirmish with living bait as well, Aine could only commend him for his determination.
“I don’t think that would be good for the forest’s ecosystem,” she told him, taking out the neatly folded cloth in her bag and her thermos.
“So what!” he shouted back.
“And I also don’t think that we would be able to eat them all. Anyway,” Aine said, “Can you wait for a little bit?”
Killua’s arm stopped mid-swing, and he turned around to look at her, looking slightly irate at her for interrupting his newfound passion. “What is it?” he said, then blinked.
There was a laugh, sounding croaky, but very bright nonetheless.
“Good morning, Killua, Aine!" Gon greeted.
Killua finally tore his eyes away from the river, blinking in surprise. "Huh? When did you wake up?"
"Just now," Gon replied, his smile widening. "You were too busy with your fishing." he pushed himself upward with his arms, failing once and twice before he managed to secure his back onto a tree, as he sent a cheery grin. “I’ll show you how to fish, Killu–”
He started and his face fell into a grimace, yet his bleary eyes were filled with inexplicable excitement and uncontained glee. Because of the swelled-up contusion, the smile twisted before he winced loudly, cradling his face with a bandaged hand.
“Ow, ow, ow…”
“Idiot,” Killua chidded with a huff, but he was happy. Very happy. Aine could see that because before long, there was a smile on his face as well. “What are you smiling so big for?”
“Gon, drink some water,” Aine offered her thermos to him, uncapped. “It’s good to stay hydrated.”
“Thanks!” he reached out his arm, bearing a slight tremor with its movement, and when his fingers clamped around the thermos, she didn’t immediately let go, waiting for a little. He was still a little weak. The toxin must haven’t yet completely disappeared from his system.
It was to be expected, she supposed. If anything, the fact that he could move right now should be something to be surprised about. Aine doubted that Geretta’s toxin was only intended to last not even a full day.
His recovery rate ought to be something to be envious of, she thought, observing the boy in question. (It took some time because he was careful, Aine realized, very careful. Not to spill anything. Not to appear too weak, not to worry them too much–).
Gon drank and drank and drank. His Adam’s apple bopped deeply up and down as a slight trickle of water seeped from the corner of his lips. There was a cut there, and she had many reasons to believe that the inner wall of his mouth had suffered the same fate.
Aine thought he was punched by Hisoka, harder than Leorio had been, much harder.
It was with luck that no tooth was knocked out.
When Gon finished, he lightly nursed the thermos in his lap, with a downcast gaze and a small smile, he commented, “...I'm just really happy to see you two, is all– ow!”
Aine felt complicated at the sight.
The smile was with joy, that was certain, but it held something else too. Something muddled and convoluted, puzzling.
Despite his words, he looked regretful and bitter. He looked….
(He looked like–)
Vexed, Gon was.
Aine blinked, shaking her head.
“Here,” she said, handing him her handkerchief. It was cold and slightly damp in her hand, making her hand cold as well.
“Oh, thanks again, Aine!” he said, and since he hadn’t learned his lesson, he smiled again ( and this time. This time, it was a silly, beaming grin, and she felt relieved), and winced once more, pressing the cold handkerchief onto his cheek.
It was good.
(“You’re reeling in too fast, Killua,” Gon told Killua with a small laugh. “You have to be patient. Sometimes the fish are shy, so you have to wait for the perfect moment.”
Killua frowned. “I’m trying. What even is the perfect moment anyway? Don’t you just start reeling the moment you feel a tug?”
“Well…yeah,” Gon said, “but you react way too fast, Killua. The fishing float only has to move and you would already start pulling...”
“If I wait, then it’ll get away,” Killua retorted.
“You’ll scare it away before you’ll catch it,” Gon lectured. “Patience is key when it comes to fishing, Killua.”
Killua blew a breath. "...I still think being fast is better. You catch it before it realizes it's caught."
Gon grinned, "That might work for certain situations, but here, in the calm waters of this river, it's better if you're more slow about it. The fishes are really sensitive and can sense the slightest disturbance...oh!"
"'Oh'?"
"They're like hunters too, you know?"
Killua raised an eyebrow. "Hunters? Fish?"
Gon nodded, his eyes widening in excitement. "Yeah! They have their instincts. If you pull too quickly, they feel the resistance and might let go. You have to let them believe they're in control until you're ready to bring them in."
“Hm…”
Killua hummed, falling into silence and focused on the float again.
"You can do it, Killua.")
Leaning back against the tree, Gon sighed lightly.
So tired…
It almost felt like his body wasn’t his, somehow, all heavy and uncooperative. Even lifting his arms was hard now. Shaking and more shanking. It couldn’t be helped, a part of him said if Hisoka wasn’t lying, then the toxin was supposed to render his muscles useless for ten days.
Not even a full day had passed yet after all.
“...”
Stupid idiot.
His hands balling tightly into a fist in his lap.
It was pathetic, Gon thought. How stupid. Stupid. Really stupid. He felt like the biggest idiot in the whole universe, he could hit himself. Wanted to. Needed to.
He was so angry and upset that he could scream and cry and that wouldn’t be enough. The white badges in his backpack might be cursed (reminders of his defeat–), because even out of sight, he could still see it, laying there mockingly in front of him, just slightly out of reach. Snatched from him, only to have it back not a moment later.
A bone, a reward, given because of some luck. Because he had managed to get a hold of Hisoka’s badge. Because he had impressed Hisoka with that feat. Because Geretta happened to be Hisko’s target. Because Hisoka happened to have six points by that time.
Hisoka, Hisoka, Hisoka.
In the end, it all came back to Hisoka.
(Gon hated it–)
Frustration gnawed at him like a starving dog.
He was too naive, too simple-minded. He looked too narrowly, and all the things he had stupidly forgotten crumpled down all at once. There wasn’t only Hisoka on the island, and there wasn’t only Gon who was hunting.
The other participants had as well, and they were a target as much as the next person. Gon forgot that, even though it was so important, he forgot it. Because of that, he had left himself vulnerable, blind to the dangers around him.
He gritted his teeth.
Stupid!
The thing was, it wasn’t even that that angered him the most. Gon knew, he knew that Hisoka was stronger than him. He knew.
But still.
But still. He thought that…
Gon thought that–
Quietly, Aine sat herself down beside him, her body facing him completely.
Gon’s gaze shifted into focus again, the hazy lines turned sharped, and he snapped out of his thought. He turned to the side, looking away from the trying Killua who had waged war against all the fishes in the riverbank, and they were pulled into a staring match.
Aine silently eyed him, not stopping even after she had his attention, wearing a contemplative expression on her face all the while. Her brows were pressed, but not enough to be called a frown, and her pink lips formed a small, straight line.
There was a plaster stuck to her left cheek, it was thin and long, and her neck was wrapped in a white bandage, nearly blending in with the collar of her dress, but strangely enough, her dress itself was really clean.
The way Aine sat was very proper, with unbending back and head held high, hands clasping together in her lap. (Somewhat like how Aunt Mito said he should. It was proper, she said. But it was still a little different. Like how Noko had tried to sit only to give up not even a minute into it, complaining that it was too hard.)
Her eyes were especially bright and clear as she looked at him under the sunlight.
Gon exhaled.
She did this a lot, a part of him remarked absently, staring and saying nothing. Mostly, it was at the sky, no matter the time of the day, and other times, it was at something that had caught her eye.
And those could be the oddest things too, and Gon found that funny.
Gon wondered why, and at the same time, he couldn’t help his smile from returning as the muddy feelings drowned away like an ocean tide.
He tilted his head, blinking. “What is it, Aine?” he asked unhurriedly.
“Mm…” was Aine’s reply as she mirrored his movement, her head tilting to the side with a blink, long hair tumbling from her shoulders, before she righted again, and nodded.
That confused him, and he felt even more confused when she reached out.
Aine could be hard to understand sometimes, Gon thought, sitting still as her hand patted lightly, gently, on his face all over. So light that he didn’t even let out an involuntary wince as she ran her fingers over his bruise.
In her final act, her hand moved up and she began stroking his hair.
Gon felt a little like a dog.
“Eehh?” he voiced, a cheerful confusion took over him, then repeated, “What is it, Aine?”
It felt nice though.
He leaned closer, head hanging slightly.
“Gon’s thinking too much,” she said after a bit, guiding him until he was lying on her lap. Gon didn’t put up any resistance, surrendering quickly (his body was so, so heavy–). “Close your eyes. Stop thinking about trifling things. They are nugatory, and will only make your head bad.”
The way she said it made it seem like she was reciting something.
He laughed wetly into her soft skirt, wondering absently what nugatory meant as the lavender-scented sleep lulled his eyes closed. She used difficult words sometimes, Gon mulled distantly, words he couldn’t understand or never heard of before, even though it was his birth language, her third one.
It was a little funny to think about.
Aine never stopped stroking his hair, even as the last of his consciousness disappeared with a rising tide, swallowing him away into a quiet dept.
(When he was alone, Gon really wanted to see them, he thought. He hadn't known it was possible, but he had missed his friends so much he couldn't help but cry.)
(Gon needed rest, that was how it was, but she still couldn’t help but feel something slightly similar to displacement when he had been all quiet like that, and the space was empty of his bright and warm exuberance.
Still, it had been a little weird, to be honest.
Even now…)
(It was good that they were here now.)
"...Why is this idiot smiling so stupidly in his sleep?"
"Killua should ask him when he wakes up."
"No way. It's probably something weird again anyway."
“Killua could have comforted him if he’s so worried,” she remarked with a hushed voice.
(Not that it was all that different from her normal tone though.)
At that, he couldn’t help but snort, placing the fishing rod carefully next to Gon's backpack before sitting across from her. “Who says I'm worried?”
The way her brows raised seemed to quietly say, ‘This again?’
It annoyed him.
He clicked his tongue mutely.
Of course, if that sleeping idiot was going to act like that, and then try to gloss it over with that horrible act of casualness of his even though his motor ability was still like that of a newborn deer, and his head was probably still too hazy to even know the faces he was making, how else could Killua react?
“Ha,” he threw his arms over his head, stretching lazily, fingers curling and straightening. Killua scoffed. “So what if I am? What am I supposed to do anyway? I don’t even know what got him all weird.”
(That wasn’t a lie.)
Doing the same thing over and over again was really boring, he thought. Gon should be thankful, seriously, acting like he still sucked even after so many attempts was tiring. (Inwardly, he couldn’t help nodded as he thought, ‘what a good guy I am.’)
Aine lowered her gaze, letting it set on the sleeping Gon, her eyelashes quivering with the movement, the shifting sunlight made them paler, casting shadows onto her face. “Neither do I,” she said, fingers sifting through Gon’s dark hair.
“Maybe not,” Killua started, cocking his head, “But you have a guess.”
She didn’t look up. “That makes the two of us, doesn’t it?”
“...”
Killua had thought about it before, but talking to her was really annoying. It felt like she could never give a straight answer, always swerving just before, talking as if she expected them to know words and reasoning that went unsaid by her.
Craning his neck, the sky filled his sight.
“Everyone has a guess, they are just too cowardly to voice them,” she said blandly, and, although taking a bit before he recalled, he couldn’t help scowling slightly at her words, immensely disliking the implication that came with them.
“That isn’t what I said,” he gritted.
“No, it isn’t,” she admitted with an irritating ease. “To be exact, what you said was ‘Everyone does, they’re just too much of a wuss to voice them.’ I went ahead and assumed that they are the same to you, opinions and guesses.”
Don’t just go and assume, stupid, he thought, but didn’t say anything.
(And other times, she was so irritatingly candid, conveying exactly what she wanted them to know, precisely with honest, cut-throat words like she didn’t care how that would make the other person feel. It annoyed him so much.)
He didn’t really know what to make of her, the same way he didn’t know what to make of Gon.
Seriously, why did he have to surround himself with weirdos?
(That old man Leorio, and Kurapika, were pretty weird as well…)
“While it’s true that everyone must at least have some kind of guess to anything that can be speculated, that does not mean it will be right,” Aine continued nonchalantly, even with his silence. “The human mind is a very wondrous thing after all.”
Killua blinked lazily at the blue sky, and carelessly said, “Why don’t you ask him for the both of us? Then we’ll know for sure if it’s right or not.”
“...Alright,” came her answer after a while.
That made him blink again, surprised, and he was facing her again, looking at Aine, feeling slightly pensive as his brows raised up. “Seriously?”
“I don’t mind,” Aine said with an unassuming tone, fingers combing through the tangles of Gon’s hair, slowly and gently. He didn’t know how she hadn’t grown tired of it yet. Her legs must have been numbed to death by now, Killua couldn’t imagine otherwise. She looked up, her eyes almost violet under the elongated shadows of the tree. “What about Killua?”
He didn’t frown. “...What about me?” he repeated after a beat.
There was a light confusion reflected on her face, her brows drew a little closer together as if he had just said something strange. “Are you not concerned?” she asked, her hand stopping momentarily, light caresses turned into soft patting.
Gon stirred but fell still again not a second after.
There it was again. Killua groaned inwardly, wanting to reach out and give her soft hair a tug. It was almost habitual now, the movement, he did it every time she was being like that after all. “Why should I be concerned if you’re just asking him a question?”
“Afterward,” Aine blinked languidly, then continued, “With how Gon will react.”
Raising a challenging brow, he said dryly, “And how exactly will he react?”
A moment passed, her head slightly tilting to the side as she asked, “How does Killua think Gon will?”
They were going in a circle. A question for another question and no answer was given. A stupid, needless circle.
What was the point of all of this anyway?
“How would I know,” Killua crossed his arms over his chest, feeling disgruntled for no apparent reason.
Honestly, never in his life had he met anyone like the two in front of him before. How was he supposed to know? He couldn’t even make a good guess based on what he knew beforehand because of how unpredictable Gon was.
That made him a little annoyed. “Rather, wouldn’t you know better than me? You’ve been with him longer than I have.”
She stayed silent for a little, as if thinking, her brows furrowed, then shook her head languidly. “No, I haven’t,” Aine said.
“...?”
“A little over a week,” she said, “It’s about the same.”
Killua squinted at Aine, trying to make sense of her response. The revelation that Aine had only known Gon for a little over a week surprised him. "A week…?" Killua muttered, more to himself than to Aine. "You fit in with the weirdness very well for that amount of time."
"Time can be deceptive,” she nodded, “What transpires within it is what matters. That's what Saskia said."
His expression fell flat, he rolled his eyes at the cryptic words and the question of who this 'Saskia' was. “So?”
“I think Gon’s emotion hasn’t settled properly yet,” she said without batting an eye. “He is in turmoil.”
Can’t she ever talk normally?
“In the end, the only thing we know is that it’s something to do with the badges,” he sighed. “Are you gonna ask him?”
“If you want. He’ll answer.”
But it doesn’t mean it’ll be a good answer, went unsaid, or that he’ll like it.
Aine went back to caressing again.
It was funny that this conversation was more taxing to him than the Hunter Exam as a whole, he thought, chuckling inwardly.
“...”
Actually, his eye ticked, it was all because of how boring the Exam and most of its participants were that he was in this situation in the first place.
Killua pursed his lips at the thought. “...just tell me what you think is going on,” he prompted offhandedly, and couldn’t have cared less if the theory would be right or wrong. “Since you seem to be so good at it.”
They were stuck and could only speculate because none of them knew what happened.
It was somewhat frustrating.
But with nothing else to do, he was stuck doing the most interesting thing as of now; speculating what was eating Gon’s brain away as a pastime activity.
Until Gon was fit to move around again anyway, and that would take a few more days, as per diagnosed by Aine.
Killua stayed silent as he waited for a response from Aine, who looked deeply pensive.
The white clouds overhead passed by at an unhurried speed.
(Time was going by so slowly–)
Some moments went, and Aine opened her mouth, the sound of her voice soft and placid.
Killua thought he could fall asleep to it.
When Gon woke up again, it was with a sharp yelp from Killua.
The sun was already halfway swallowed by the horizon, and the sky a bright, vibrant orange, bleeding into pinks and purples. All light and pretty colors. It was a sight, Aine thought, her fingers carding dutifully through the dark hair her lap was full of.
Twilight already.
She had been watching Killua, an idle act, as he tried his hand at fishing again some hours after Gon had fallen asleep. It had been quiet, only the sound of the float hitting the calm surface of the water broke the natural noises of the forest. Green leaves ruffled by the wind, and animals scurrying about.
He was undoubtedly bored, she knew, and maybe slightly peeved, if his past endeavors were anything to go by. Killua was getting better, she believed, with every escaped fish (five, so far). If he had some example to follow, he would definitely have already caught one.
That was what she thought, at least.
(Actually, something weird happened with the fifth fish.
Killua had reeled it in perfectly so that it was hanging by the hook, its silver scales gleaming under the sunlight. Killua made a triumphant exclamation, a hand was reaching out for it, but for some indiscernible reason, his grip slacked and the fish escaped at the last second.)
Killua could be very weird sometimes.
“Huk!”
There, like that.
His hand withdrew with great speed, as though the fish had burned him. This time, the fish fell onto the graveled ground, flapping around haplessly.
"..."
Was there something wrong with the fish in the river? Last she saw, they looked like they were supposed to, but maybe there was. Aine hadn’t captured any fish on this island after all.
Aine wondered if she should ask what was wrong.
She looked down when she felt movement, her hand stopping.
“Mm…” Gon stirred, his head lolled on her knees until he was faced up, bleary eyes blinking at her confusedly before he slurred out, “I heard…Killua’s voice?”
“That’s right,” Aine confirmed with a nod. “It was Killua.”
Gon yawned, slowly rising up with a push of his arms and a little help from her. “What happened?”
“Ah...”
She fell silent, contemplating, before looking out towards the riverbank, where Killua had moved from his previous position, retreating far away from the stilled fish, Gon’s fishing rod positioned in front of him protectively.
Her legs felt numb.
Aine stood up, her hands pressing down her skirt.
“It seems to be the fish,” was her answer after a brief moment of deep contemplation.
Gon stopped mid-stretch, turning towards her. “Huh?”
“Mm,” she nodded. “How is Gon feeling?”
"Oh. I slept great!"
.
A moment passed, her head slightly tilting to the side as she asked, “How does Killua think Gon will?”
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
Chapter 25: Sleep After Toyle, Port After Stormie Seas, Ease After War, Death After Life, Doth Greatly Please
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Today was the day they learned of Killua’s strange aversion to fish’s eyes. The ‘they’ also included Killua himself.
After Gon had woken up, and she was free to move again, Gon had taken up his fishing rod, saying he would show Killua how to do it with renewed energy. He insisted he was feeling a bit better now, and he wasn’t lying, Aine didn’t think.
With that, Aine set off to scavenge for things at an amble pace. “I’m going,” she had announced, then set off.
The island was filled with herbs, that was what she had observed since day one, and a lot of fruits. Some edible and some not, and some that fell in between. Aine couldn’t say that she knew all of them, but she was also confident with the ones she did know, so she definitely wouldn’t be poisoning anybody.
She didn’t think it would be good for Gon to experience something like that the second time when the effect of the first had yet to fade for good. Actually, it would be better for him to never experience something like that again.
Nodding to herself, Aine plucked the white-stemmed mushroom and placed it with all the other things inside her bag, then began heading back. She didn’t want to stray too far, or it would take too long to get back.
There was dinner to prepare after all.
Killua was the first to notice her as she stepped out from the thicket. He remained seated, only a small glance as acknowledgement. She didn’t know if it was because of the lighting, even though the orange sunset’s light draped itself all over, but he looked a little paler than normal.
Discomfort sat close in his posture, and clung to his expression.
He seemed a little sick.
It was weird, Aine noted offhandedly as she approached the unlit campfire, there was quite a distance between him and the flourishing Gon, who had a contented air around him, with his fishing rod in hand and the relaxed way he held himself.
It was very much the opposite of Killua.
“...Oh.”
Aine thought she had an idea as to what painted the picture a juxtaposition.
The reason revealed itself without as much as an inquiry from her, and she was proven right not too long after.
Killua could be very weird sometimes, her mind reinstated.
The sun had finally set, and night fell. The three of them crowded around the campfire in a triangular position, doing their own things, mostly. Gon was minding some fish as Aine stirred the mushrooms on the stone slab, and Killua stared intently at the cooking food.
It wasn’t quiet, but it wasn’t loud either.
The fire’s heat glazed the front of her, warming her up considerably. She threw a few herbs onto the slab.
“Killua, you’re…” Gon started slowly, weary bemusement. “Were you really an assassin?”
His tone caught not only Killua’s attention but hers as well. Although Aine’s eyes had wandered away absently, her hands still moved in a mechanical way almost,
“...Yeah. What about it?”
There was a small pause, but Killua answered back with faux nonchalance, chin supported by the palm of his hand, and his suspicion-filled gaze was catlike as he looked at Gon over the dancing flame as if daring Gon to continue, before giving a defensive sniff.
And Gon, being Gon, continued, pushing a skewered roasted fish in front of Killua. “Then how come you get so queasy with this? It’s just fish’s eyes, you know.”
“Geh!” Killua jerked back within seconds, and his hackle rose high as something not unlike a hiss escaped between his gritted teeth. “You–! Don’t get that thing close to me!” he protested loudly, on the verge of running as Gon sidled closer and closer.
It was quite ironic.
She had been comparing Killua to a cat, but he seemed afraid of fish.
“Food shouldn’t be played with,” Aine said after letting the small commotion go on for a bit.
Immediately, the skewered fish was back to where it had been, and Gon was fully seated again. He scratched the back of his head, “Hehe.”
Nodding, she gave the stone slab her attention again as she added the seasoned fish filets onto it, together with mushrooms and herbs.
Killua exhaled quietly.
“What’s wrong with fish, though?” Gon asked.
“Its eyes…“ Killua started, even though she wasn’t looking, she thought that there had to be a look of disgust crawled onto his expression just from his tone alone.
Gon blinked, tilting his head to the side. “Its eyes?”
“Can’t you see that it’s looking at me?”
“But…” Gon sounded confused, “It’s dead, Killua.”
“Yeah! With its dead, lifeless eyes!”
Because of the sounds of clothes rustling, she knew that Killua was moving a lot, agitated.
Could it be something like the Mona Lisa effect that he felt with the fish?
Anyway, Killua’s words were really unreasonable.
The fish was dead, so of course, its eyes were going to be lifeless. How else was it supposed to look like? In her opinion, Aine didn’t think that there was much difference between how the eyes looked when the fish was alive to how it looked when it was dead, only more dried up.
“...”
Killua was quite delicate, Aine noted quietly as she picked up the wooden ‘plates’ by her bag and began distributing the herbed fish and mushrooms into them, intending to hand them out.
When she looked up again, Gon was opening and closing his mouth again, and ending with not saying anything at all.
It seemed that, for the first time, Gon was stunned into silence by Killua.
“...hehe.”
Their gazes instantly snapped towards her.
Aine blinked, “...?” unsure of the sudden reaction, and said, “...Dinner is ready.”
(“You laugh, Aine!”
“...I do, yes. You do as well, Gon.”
“That isn’t what he meant, idiot.”)
(“Where did these even come from?” Killua asked, eyeing the wooden plate in his hand.
Gon was the one who answered. “Aine made it while we were fishing,” he said, then turned to her, “This tastes great, Aine!”
“...Hah?”
Aine nodded.)
“The stars are so bright,” Gon commented, his tone wondrous and idle, then, “It reminds me a little of Whale Island.”
The firewood crackled, and somehow, it was almost distant, quiet. Aine pried her eyes open again, blinking a few times to adjust. The sky was cloudless and very, very dark. Like obsidian. Speckled with tiny, innumerable, white, twinkling dots all over.
Unarguably, the sight was beautiful.
Jumping and jumping, her eyes finally settled, landing on the brightest dot. So radiant and bright it was almost impossible to miss. That star, alone, stood out, overwhelming the surrounding dots with its dazzling lumination.
(Because it was the brightest, it was the most beautiful–)
There was a performance she saw, once, at Théâtre de l'Étoile.
The Longing of Ceilia, a play about a discovery of a new star, a sudden burst of bright starlight within the night sky, a supernova-like occurrence that brought forth a disparate group of individuals. Whenever she thought of stars, that was what they reminded her of most of the time, a performance had swept Aine up like a mercurial current, pulling her under in a trance.
It was a very memorable and impressionable thing for her, now that she thought about it.
(One of the many performances she had seen with Blaise, but it was also one of the firsts. Aine remembered it very vividly. Atelais' former Premiere Danseuse had taken part in. She was the celestial mystery.
Celine Navarro, truly, had more than lived up to the title, surpassed it even.
Aine admired her greatly, she wasn’t afraid to admit, the woman with a willowy frame and elegant lines. Why would she be? After all, many were of the same opinion as Aine. In the first place, it would be weirder for her not to.)
“Yeah,” Killua acknowledged after a bout of silence, “I guess they are.”
“You know, my grandma told me that each star has its own story,” Gon said.
“Did she now?” Killua replied, sounding not disinterested. His pale hand entered the corner of her eye, just barely, a finger pointing upward as he asked, “What’s that one’s story?”
Aine looked over, but since she wasn’t lying close to him, she couldn’t really determine which he was referring to. Frowning a little, she contemplated and stood up.
Gon laughed openly after having taken a look. “Dunno!” he said, and Killua deadpanned. “Jeez, Killua, there are so many stars! There’s no way I’d be able to remember them all.”
“Then why bring it up?” Killua said, then questioned with a weird look as she tucked her skirt and sat down beside him, “And why are you coming over here?”
“Which one was it?” she asked him, looking at him.
“Which one was what?” he asked back.
Aine blinked slowly at him, “The star Killua pointed at.”
“Oh,” Gon said, sidling closer to Killua, close enough that he made Killua slightly tumble onto her as he pointed, “It’s that one, right?”
Her eyes followed the tip of his finger. “That’s Iolanta.”
“You know it?”
“Mm.”
“Wow! Look, Aine knows what it is!”
“I know, I heard her–” Killua’s sentence was cut short when Gon pushed even more.
A little more, than they would all tumble down to the ground, she was sure.
Gon, however, only continued in his excitement, “Does the star have a story then?”
“It–”
“Stop shoving, Gon! We’re going to– ack!”
“Ah.”
They fell.
Aine blinked, staying still under the weight of the two. “...does,” she finished in silence. A quiet moment passed by.
Killua slowly pushed himself up from her with an unnaturally calm expression. Gon, who was on Killua’s back, consequently slid down onto the ground. As Killua turned to face Gon, his face darkened more and more, eyes twitching periodically.
Nervousness shook Gon’s eyes as a shaky smile showed on his palling face, “Ah, um...Haha,” he hesitated, “Oops?”
Killua exploded. “Gon!”
“Sorry! Sorry!” Gon yielded after having failed to evade Killua’s retaliation. To be honest, she wouldn’t bet on him to be able to get away even if he had reacted fast enough. Killua’s finger dug into his sides as Gon's breathless laughter rang uncontrollably. “I didn’t mean to!”
Aine took out her handkerchief and lightly dabbed her lower lip, observing with blank eyes.
“I’m really sorry!” he wheezed out, tapping out, “I can’t– I can't breathe. Killua!”
“‘Sorry’ isn’t going to cut it!”
There was a tangy, sour taste of metal on her tongue. She frowned, reaching for her thermos. As she drank her water, the dull stinging wasn’t unnoticeable.
On another note, Killua’s hair was as soft as she had imagined it.
“Pft– hahaha! Wah, haha…Aine, he– hahaha!”
…Did laughing too much count as overexerting? That might be the case. Laughing as much as Gon was right now would cause one’s muscles to tense and also shortness of breathing, she thought, and it wasn’t good for Gon, no matter how happy he sounded.
He might be in pain right now, actually.
She nodded her head before calling out, “Killua, if you continue, Gon will likely asphyxiate.”
“Then he can just suffocate!” was his reply.
“…”
Aine went to stand behind him, where he had toppled Gon over and tickled him at an unrelenting pace with no mercy to spare. The ears and neck peeking out from his white hair were bright red and very stark.
She placed her hands lightly on top of them, slowly tilting Killua’s head backwards to take a look at him. under her palms. His ears were very warm, she thought. (And really, his hair was very soft.)
As she expected, his nose was slightly red, and the corner of his mouth was bleeding.
“Let’s get you treated,” Aine said, staring into his unblinking eyes, before trailing over to the heaving Gon, glossy eyes nearly spilling tears. “Gon, too. And I need to change my bandages as well.”
Gon looked a little relieved, breathing out a quiet sigh, but immediately tensed again when Killua shook out of her hold and turned to glare at him. “Count yourself lucky this time.”
“Geh– I, I mean, um. Ah…ha, ha,” Gon smiled nervously as he cautiously backed away, but the inherent fear was visible in his eyes. “I really mean it when I tell you that I’m really sorry…”
.
.
.
Aine woke up when everything was washed blue, where the faded stars and moon lingered still as a pale image, and the sun had yet to break through the horizon, cresting a stria of bright, luminescent vermilion far into the yonder.
“...”
The campfire had died out.
Gon and Killua had moved in their sleep, a lot (Killua more so than Gon, Aine thought that because Gon had yet to fully recover. She knew that he would have moved as much as Killua otherwise) and it made her question how they even ended up like that while being unconscious.
She rose into the stillness of the morning, leaves rustling softly under the shift of her weight as she reached for her bag.
The running river’s murmurs became louder as she approached it, a dull-colored bird flew by with a gust of wind underneath the large span of its wing, grazing just the calm surface of the water, a silver-scaled fish between its beak.
Her eyes couldn’t help trailing after it.
Fast…
She thought absently as she kneeled in front of the clear river, her hands creating ripples across the surface. Her toes curled at the temperature unknowingly, a brief spike that made her skin gooseflesh momentarily, even more so when she splashed her face with the water.
Now, Aine felt truly awake.
Involuntarily, her face scrunched, and she reached for her towel to dry off before brushing her teeth. It was unnecessarily cold, in her honest opinion, the morning before dawn broke.
Calm and quiet. Blue. Somehow, there was a sense of surrealness about the sight, and a feeling that something might jump out soon to steal away the tranquility, simultaneously. Like a Schrodinger's cat sort of thing.
Someone might be waiting to ambush them right now, and they were none the wiser. Wasn’t that such a scary thing to think of? None of them had noticed at all, if that was the scenario. Curious, definitely, if that was the case.
On the other hand, there might just be nothing, and this peace would remain, not even as the days went by would it cease, and the time to leave had come.
Like this, it was only something time would tell.
Many things were like that, weren't they?
(Time would tell and time would take. Such was the matter of life, was it not?)
“There’s a cave,” she started, directing her attention at Gon, who had just woken up, eyes still unfocused as he looked back at her. “and there’s a waterfall. Which do you prefer?”
The distance was about the same, Aine estimated.
“...Me?” Gon blinked, but his answer came not long after, “I like both.”
“Oh. Alright.”
“What was it for?” Gon asked, yawning as he stretched his arms out.
“Waterfall,” Killua said resolutely before she could answer, and his face showed that he wouldn’t take any veto or otherwise. “We’re going to the waterfall. I’m going to die of heatstroke if we don’t. It’s too hot here!”
She suspected the only reason he hadn’t yet thrown himself into the lake was because he knew they were going to move soon, and since they were going to move, they might as well go somewhere cooler than the open space that was here and a place where he could play.
Though it was right to say that it was hot. The temperature had increased drastically since the sun took its place high in the sky, shining ever so brightly, to be expected by the tropical island they were on.
“Waterfall it is, then,” Aine nodded.
“Eh?” there was something like question marks above Gon’s head as it tilted to the side, “What is this about?”
“It’ll be good for you,” she reassured, and it would be.
“Eh?”
“Come on, Gon, go freshen up.” Killua hurried. “Aine got you some breakfast as well. It’s only fruits though.”
“...Okay?”
“You cannot jump into the water if you’re going to be overly excited like that,” Aine cut off his line of thought when she saw the brimming look of excitement on his face. She knew it wouldn’t do him any good if any of his ideas were to come into fruition. “It will ruin all the progress and it will be stupid.”
Gon blinked and looked at her like a deer caught in a headlight.
“Sucks for you, Gon, but that’s just how it is sometimes,” Killua said, mockingly playful with his tone, already taking off his long-sleeve and turtleneck, his shoes and socks removed soon after. His skin was slightly pink from the heat, oddly enough. “You’re not all better yet after all.”
“Eehh?” Gon whined, after seeming to have compute their words,, turning to her with pleading eyes as Killua cast himself into the water. “I’m all better now though!”
The sound of the splash was loud, and it was the most sound Killua had made, she thought.
“Even if Gon thinks he feels better, he isn’t,” Aine said.
“But I am better. Look!” he protested, then demonstrated his claim, going low on his knees before jumping high into the air. “All better!”
She reinstated her point. “You can’t exert too much.”
“Oh…” Gon's face fell like a kicked puppy, before he blinked several times, and asked, “Oh! So…I can still play in the water, right?”
Aine nodded.
“Yay!”
He kicked off his shoes and jacket before running off.
Killua turned towards them with a wide smile, swimming closer again. “So you can join anyway?”
“Yeah!”
“Gon.” lightly, she called, almost a warning.
“Oh,” he paused in motion, slowing down, a sheepish smile on his face, “Right. I’ll be careful.”
Killua waved his arms, “C’mon!”
“Coming!” Gon waved back cheerfully, then looked over his shoulder and said, “I promise I’ll be careful!”
There was a loud splash, and Aine watched quietly as she sat and with her worn-out diary in her lap.
(...Was this what Hunter Exams were supposed to be like?
Something about this was quite out of line with her previous assumptions, but Aine should be more open-minded, she supposed.)
“‘–might it be her eyes, heated by anger and stained by betrayal, or the beady tears that fell hotly onto my cold, unfeeling skin that made me feel like never before? Her thin hands tightened around my throat as though they were a noose as her expression spun into that of an immense woe; the gate could no longer withstand the strong torrent of her emotions, though her hold remained merciless. ‘Ah,’ I thought for the last time before everything turned dark and the sounds of her wet sobs only a quiet murmur, ‘What a foolish woman.’”
“You know…” Killua started wearily, humorously. “Are you trying to give him a nightmare?”
Aine blinked, her throat slightly arid as she swallowed. Glancing at Gon, who, despite his words, ate his lunch with heavy eyes and listless limbs as he slumped over her knees. “Why would I?” she asked, closing her book.
Killua shrugged. “I ask you,” he blew a breath, “Anyway, what a stupid ending that was.”
“Is it?” she said.
One of his eyebrows raised upward, “It’s not?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “...he loved her.”
“Did he?” Killua said, lolling his head onto his shoulder. “In the end, he let her kill him.”
“Because she loved him.”
“That’s right. She loved him, to the point he thought was mad, and supposedly, he loved her as well, even though he asked her to kill him? And when she refused, he tormented her relentlessly because he wants his selfishness to be fulfilled…” Killua muttered. “What kind of messed-up love is that? Isn’t that just his stupid obsession with death and his annoying, egotistical selfishness talking?”
Aine let him mull on it a little, before saying, “You might be right, Killua, but he was obsessed with death by her hand because that is what he thought was the greatest expression of love, was it not?”
They sat in silence.
“The book is written from his perspective,” she stated.
“Yeah…?” Killua frowned, as though he couldn’t understand why she brought it up. “I know, I listened.”
“There’s an epilogue. Would you like for me to read it?” Aine asked, her hands brushing the hard, green cover. Embrace of the Abyss, the silver cursives said.
He blinked incredulously at her.
“Why…didn’t you, just, like, finish the whole book?”
“Oh, it’s because Killua looked perturbed.”
He jolted upward, glaring at her with a sour face. “Was not,” he shot back instantly. “Just annoyed. Anyways! Just finish reading it already.”
“Mm,” she hummed, a thumb sliding under the cover, flipping pages and pages.
“…‘Her heart clamored louder than it ever had, and harder than anything, ready to burrow its way through her bones and flesh for the man in front of her. Undoubtedly, surely, this was–”
(The bathtub was overflowing, and the cheap tiles made from ceramic had cracks in them, and Aine absently wondered if the water she could feel so pointedly at the span of her bruised shins, dripping thinly down her forearm, was seeping through the spidery cracks like it did her white, faded dress.
It was cold. Aine thought it had to be, cold as it always was, even though she couldn’t really feel anything. It all felt too far away, just out of her reach. Her head felt fuzzy, almost like the stinging of her eyes, but it wasn’t like the way pepper chili oil stung them.
They weren’t desiccating, but they burned anyway. So hotly and unfamiliarly that it might scare her. And maybe it did. Deeply. Somewhere she couldn’t have noticed then. Not in the fleshy skin, or the four chambers of her heart, and certainly not in the soft, soft organ inside her skull.
Somewhere. Somewhere.
Aine couldn’t help wondering where.
(Why–)
Then.
“...”
Then there was nothing, she didn't think. Just cold. The cold water, the cold tile beneath her knees, and the cold quiet that was heavy as the pot of burnt oil and dark, nameless fragments that had sank to the bottom of the pot that was to be thrown away.
(Was it to be thrown away?)
(Aine didn’t want that–)
There was banging at the door, and a voice so muffled she could barely hear it. And unmistakably, it was Big Brother’s, sounding so haplessly desperate as it spelled her name.
She blinked, looking up. The familiar ceramic tiles, the pool of her hair, wet-tipped and disorderly sprawled, disappeared as the melded, darkened edge of the cramped bathtub began to appear, and her burning eyes trailed further and further along.
Up and up, higher and higher, so slowly she felt they were broken.
The fluorescent light blinked once, then twice, and even then, it was so dark inside the stifling bathroom, and through the curtain of her unbrushed hair, the pale-as-star strands that had tangled badly in wet clumps, pouring like water from the thin, cold edge began to creep stillingly into sight.
(Dirty. Dirty. So dirty. So tainted
Her eyes burned–)
Her throat clamped up as she forced her mouth open, and then–)
(It had to be.
It had to.)
(And then nothing.
She couldn’t say anything in the end.
How regrettable, she wanted to think.)
“‘Most definitely,’” Aine recited, “‘this love was forevermore, everlasting, until the end of time! Surer, she couldn’t be. She shook her head, her smile stretched the skin of her cheeks wide and tight. Frenzied, it was, hysteric, it would be. Surer, she couldn’t. The abyss was dark and suffocating, but with the two of them, with him, there wasn’t anything she couldn’t bear, for her love for him was greater than. And so, she let herself go.’”
Killua sat blankly, reticent, then, “...I take back what I said. They suit each other very much. There will be no better match for them, I’m sure. The man is messed up, the woman is messed up, their love is messed up, but somehow, it’s still…ugh.”
Aine blinked at his outburst, thinking that the expression on his face, and his words, were quite funny. She couldn’t help smiling. She moved her book, intending to place it back into her bag when the wide brown eyes of the now-awake Gon met hers.
“Love is really complex, huh,” Gon commented with an air of profundity, it seemed that was what he was thinking about quietly before yawning. “Thanks again, Aine.”
She nodded.
“Finally awake,” Killua said. “Feeling better?”
“Yup!” Gon answered, pushing himself upright again.
“You should be. You slept nearly the whole afternoon away, after all,” Killua said, then turned to ask her, “So? Is he actually better?”
“Yes, but a day more would be recommended,” Aine informed, and when Gon made a disappointed expression, she continued with a light frown, staring at him. “You said that it’s estimated to take ten days, but it has barely been half of that, and you’re already this much better. You are acting petulant, Gon”
Despite not being an expert she thought that it was really incredible, Gon’s body, and so very not normal. Actually, he was probably already capable of moving around as much as a normal person, but he wouldn’t yet be able to exercise all those wild movements like he normally can.
Gon’s face fell a little, but he still had a small smile. “Right. Sorry.”
With a raised brow, Killua questioned, “What are you hurrying for anyway?”
“Hm, well...I want to go over and help Kurapika or Leorio. If they need it,” he paused, “…if I can.”
"..."
Aine looked over at Killua, who had been looking back at her.
“Oh,” Killua started lightly, “Aine said you’d be all better soon, didn’t she?”
“Mm. Tomorrow is good, I think.”
It wasn't a lie, per se.
Gon seemed to brighten considerably, “Okay!”
She wondered how he would find them in the first place, given the size of the island. On the subject of those two, Aine also wondered how they were doing right now.
Alive, hopefully.
(But was it really?)
It was raining, and they were all huddled close under a particularly dense foliage, Aine’s back pressed onto the rough tree barks, and the moss-covered ground was soft and damp. She pulled her legs to her chest, chin resting on her knees, her eyelids falling deeper and deeper the longer the calmness preserved.
And then, they were closed shut.
There was a lot of it, Aine thought absently, the sounds of water was unending.
The rushing rain almost hail from the overcast sky with thick, rolling storm clouds, the beating waterfall whose body fell from the cliffedge harshly, the lighter, dripping droplets from the leaves wetting her hair more and more.
There wasn’t a lot she could do though, she didn’t think.
In truth, she had a small, folding umbrella parasol in her bag, but it wouldn’t be much use anyway as it was too small to accommodate all three off them. Also, they were only sitting and waiting, if anything, the umbrella parasol would just take up the available space.
As it was, Aine felt that Killua and she were already encroaching on Gon of his own space. Although Aine was slightly apologetic, she had no intention of moving away at all. The wind was whistling, carrying the earthy scent along the coldness, and her clothes were wet enough that they plastered onto her skin.
She shivered.
Though, in contrast to that, in contrast to everything, Gon was as warm as a furnace almost. His shoulder was bony, rising up and down slightly with every breath, rubbing his sticky skin against her arm. Gon was undoubtedly the warmest thing around, Aine thought, and she wondered if she was as warm to him as he was to her.
Human bodies were warm, generally, especially children. They ran hot, like fireplaces and warm comforters, that was what she was told by Mama, at least.
(But adults weren’t as warm though. Mama was very thin, and she was always cold. It was a good thing that Mama liked hugging Aine, even when she wasn't very keen on keeping herself warm as Aine hoped she would.)
Aine thought Mama was right.
Humans were really warm.
(So then, why wasn’t–)
Gon woke up with a weight against the side of his head, and his right side empty, left cold. His first thought was that he fell asleep again, followed shortly after by a jump of his heart, when his head cleared, and confusion took over.
Where was…
“Aine?”
Her stuff wasn’t here either.
He blinked, bending forward, and the weight quickly rolled down his back, and a startled squawk came promptly from Killua, who righted himself immediately and fixed Gon with a half-hearted glare that was soon broken by a yawn.
Killua mumbled something unclearly, most likely ‘What’s wrong? as he looked around with wet eyes, then tilted his head and said. “Oh, she’s not back yet?”
That got Gon’s head to stop twirling around, searching the area, and fully turned towards Killua. “You know where she is, Killua?”
“Duh,” Killua answered dryly, “Of course, I know. She told me after all.”
Hearing that, Gon felt relieved. “That’s good,” he said with a smile. He felt that Aine always disappeared at the most unexpected moment, sometimes, without a word too, and that made him worried a little bit.
Killua raised a brow but didn’t say anything before moving on, “You know, are you sure you really want to be out and about again tomorrow?”
“...Yeah, I want to hurry and find Kurapika and Leorio. The quicker I find them, the better,” he answered honestly, but there was a twig of guilt within the pause. He was being selfish, Gon thought. “Why do you ask?”
“Idiot,” Killua huffed.
Gon blinked confusedly, “What, why?”
“You can barely keep yourself awake after playing in the water, you really think you won’t fall over in a slumber while you’re searching for those two?”
“But Aine said it was fine…” he argued weakly.
“Yeah, and you would have totally listened to her if she answered more than one day,” Killua said with a mocking tone.
That ticked Gon off a little. He really couldn’t argue against what was said, but the way Killua said it somehow annoyed him. He started before he even knew what he wanted to say, “I–”
It didn’t go anywhere though, before he was cut off.
“She only said that ‘cause she knew you would have run off either way, so it’s better for you to rest today as well, instead of risking you stupidly giving up tonight’s rest so you can sneak off. You know, like an idiot would.” Killua finished then, stood up, leaving Gon no room for refute, and began stretching.
With all of that said, Gon could only stay silent, feeling like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t even though he hadn’t done anything yet, before standing up too, with a sheepish laugh. “Well, in my defense, it wasn’t because I was tired, but because it was really cozy. You guys were very warm…?”
Killua made a face that seemed to say he didn’t know what to do with Gon, and said, “Idiot,” before he walked off with his skateboard in hand. “Why is it always weirdos…”
Quickly picking up his things, Gon jogged after him. "Ah, Killua! Wait up!"
.
.
.
Aine didn’t look away from the waterfall when she heard approaching footfalls, eyes glued to the rainbow on cascading water and fingertips smeared in vivid coloring as they pressed down onto the messy pages underneath them.
The rippling lake water lapped her legs in an erratic interval, slowly and coldly, was transparent yet blue, and underneath the reflecting mirror of the surface seemed to be something else entirely. The mud stuck onto her skin was brown and dirty, the prickly grass was green and the rock she sat on was a dull gray,
(And the sky was blue, something pretty, but still pale when in comparison with Bayu’s color.)
“What are you doing, Aine?” came Gon’s curious voice first, and his person followed soon after, crouching down right beside her, and she looked up. “Wow, are you drawing this place? It’s even prettier than the real thing!”
He had his hands on his knees, and his eyes sparked a glint under the peaking sunlight, widened in wonder as he looked at her.
“...”
(There was an echo of something in the wordless memoir of a quaint room and still days. Mama’s lethargic eyes under the harsh, flickering fluorescent light overhead, hopelessly bleak yet always trying with a mawkish smile on her face.
They were hopelessly warm, she remembered.
Yet, somehow, the loudest of Aine’s recollections of those lethargic, hopeless eyes had been the blurriest of it all.
In the place where the sun reached and its light leaked in, warm on Aine’s skin in a way that was wholly unfamiliar. It wasn’t anything like the warmth of a person, she remembered thinking, a distant musing in her mind, almost abstract.
Under the sunlight that was like a hold, Mama’s eyes had been so bright, like melted sugar, and a starburst and dozens more, and everything was so, so–)
(“Why, Mama?”
“My baby. My lovely Aine, it’s because you–”)
(Wandering through the wardrobe mindlessly, she gave the displayed brilliant gem-embedded accessories behind the glass cases each a fleeting glance as she passed by. Aine couldn’t say that she knew what they were intimately, only that they were lavish and costly, despite there being no tags attached.
Undoubtedly pretty, they were, even when she didn’t quite understand them.
Resplendent, scintillating under the lights.
She stopped then.
Blankly, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the familiarly colored thing.
“My,” Celine's calm voice reached her ears, and when Aine turned to look at her, there was a simple fascination and bright attentiveness in her eyes as she approached. “Has something managed to catch my darling protege’s interest?”
“Can you tell me the name for that?”
“The name only?” Celine said, tilting her head slightly to the side, before she smiled adoringly at Aine as she took her hand and said, even without having looked at which Aine had been referring to behind the glass case, “If you want it, I’ll be happy to give it to you.”
“Ah,” Aine said, casting a glance back at the jewel. Her eyes itched. “I’d rather have the name, please.”
“If that pleases you,” Celine conceded readily, easily, and peered into the display, “Let me see here. The name you are looking after, my dear, is–”)
“...Palmeira citrine.”
Gon blinked. “What? Is Palme- um,” he began, but quickly gave up with a sheepish grin, “Is that the name of your drawing?”
Aine shook her head. “A gemstone.”
“A gemstone?” he repeated cluelessly, then looked around. “Is there one here?”
“Mm, here–”
Her sight was covered with something white as she shifted her wrist, pressed harshly down until she could only see the messy pages and her folded legs. When the pressure let up, she raised her head up and her fingers unconsciously tangled in the thing on her.
“Oh. Killua, you’re here!”
It was a towel.
“Idiot. Why did you run off like that?” Killua sounded slightly irritated; his hand pushed harder as he continued, redirecting his irritation. “And you. Do you want to catch a cold or something?”
“I don’t think anyone wants to, Killua,”
“Well, you’re practically asking for it!” he hissed. “Why are you just sitting here without- without any clothes on?”
“But she does?”
“They’ll get dirty.”
Gon’s and her voice overlapped.
“...I know you don’t have common sense, but at least this much–”
“I have common sense!” Gon interrupted.
Aine tilted her head, blinking. “I have been told my conduct is something to strive for.”
Only few seconds passed by before Gon then said, “...What is common sense, anyway?”
She thought for a moment, and thought to just go by the definition for her answer. “A benchmark set by societal norms, personal values, and sensibility, I supposed.”
“That…sounds so difficult to understand.”
“It is a broad subject,” she agreed.
“Argh! You guys don’t have the right to talk about common sense!” Killua exploded in a shout. “Common sense? What common sense? You don’t have any at all! Ugh. Also, put on some clothes already! Are you not a girl? Have some sense of decency, can you!”
When she looked over her shoulder, Killua’s face was almost as red as strawberries.
“Killua is–”
His grip on the towel tightened as he pressed her head down. “Shut it! I’m not!”
Gon departed without much fanfare. “See you guys later!” he said, and he took off with a wave of his hand, his back disappearing into the thicket, leaving behind a thick silence that Aine had grown used to when it was just her and Killua.
It took some time, but it was Killua who first broke it. “Is that guy even human?” he commented in a wry tone, and there was a slight wonder mixed within.
“He has a quick convalescence,” she said. “Abnormally so.”
Truly, it was abnormal.
He made recovery in even less than half the time he had been expected to.
If Gretta’s target had been Gon, after stealing the badge, he would want to make sure that Gon was out of commission until the end of the phase, and since he hadn’t killed him to do so, that meant Gretta had prepared duly and expected for the toxin to effectively render Gon useless for the remainder of the phase.
According to Tonpa, Gretta was a very experienced hunter, so Aine highly doubted that he had gotten the toxin’s potency and dosage wrong. That could only mean that it was Gon who had been an outlier to the calculation.
Killua snorted. “Ha! Not only his mind, even his body doesn’t know common sense.”
“Does yours?” Aine asked.
Wasn’t he resistant to poisons?
He cocked his head to the side, giving off a condescending feeling. “‘Course not,” he said, almost mockingly. Somehow, she couldn’t tell if it was aimed towards her or himself. “I wouldn’t be here right now if it did.”
Even though he was looking at her like he was searching for something, she didn’t know what he was searching for, and could only say, “Okay.”
“...‘Okay’?” Killua repeated, blinking, then he laughed, doubling over as if he had been humored greatly by the word. “'Okay'? What kind of reply is that?”
.
.
.
“Where is that cave you talked about before?” he asked as they walked through the messily grown trees, and tangled tall grass.
“East from here,” Aine answered without a pause, but her steps seemed to divert a little as she continued, confidently walking like she knew this place like the back of her hand. Like an odd quirk. She always did, he noted absently, doing things without much hesitation or qualm. “Does Killua want to go there?”
Despite her not looking, Killua shrugged anyway, hands in his pocket. “Bah. Might as well explore some caves. It’s not like we have better things to do.”
He could always play a little more, Killua thought lightly, finally having the opportunity to freely do so.
“Alright,” she said, and completely changed their course of path without a blink of an eye.
She was frowning lightly once the entrance of the cave came into view, and they stopped. Weirdly enough. It was barely a change in her expression, to be honest, but it was enough to be noticed. A little different from the ones she usually had when she was lost in her head.
He felt that he had seen enough of those to at least be able to tell the difference.
Killua frowned as well, crossing his arms and stopped moving. She stopped too, turning to look at him, her face blank again. Out of habit, one specifically catered to her, he reached out and gave her hair a tug, huffing annoyedly. “If you don’t want to go there then say so, stupid.”
She never had a visible reaction to it at all, the tugging. Not the first time he did it unknowingly out of frustration, or now. It puzzled him slightly. Killua thought she almost seemed used to it. What a weirdo, his mind stated again.
Instead of replying to what he had said, Aine pointed out, not unlike the way she had when they had first ran into each other a few days ago, and some time after that, “You have a leaf in your hair, Killua.”
The only difference was that this time, she was actually close enough to reach for it herself, and that was exactly what she did.
His eyes twitched.
“Did you even hear what I just said?”
She pulled her hand back with a green leaf pinched between her thin fingers. “...I just had a weird feeling about it, is all.”
“What ‘weird’ feeling?” Killua asked.
Aine blinked. “I don’t know.”
He sighed exasperatedly and turned his heel.
They didn’t go into the cave in the end.
(As much as there wasn’t a reason not to go, there also wasn’t a reason to go there, they came to an agreement.)
The last few days passed by peacefully without any complication.
They eventually ran into the other three, Leorio and Gon looked worse for wear in comparison to Kurapika, who only appeared slightly ruffled. They all seemed incredibly exhausted, of course, and Gon had snakebites riddled all over his visible skin.
“Did you go into the cave?” she asked him.
Gon gave her a surprise look. “We did!” he answered, nodding, then told her energetically, “We followed Ponzu’s scent until there. There were two people in there, you know? Ponzu and Bourbon. Bourbon could control snakes, or that’s what Ponzu told us, and Ponzu is a lady who can control bees!”
“Someone who controls snakes. So, that’s how you and Leorio got the snakebites, huh,” Killua said.
Leorio shivered. “There were snakes all over the place…”
“It definitely didn’t help that the only person who could call them off was dead,” Kurapika added with a weary sigh, after that, he turned to look at her curiously. “...How did you know, Aine? That we were in a cave?”
She thought, tilting her head slightly before she replied, “I felt like I could hear faint hissing from there.”
Kurapika blinked wordlessly. “...?”
“Oh,” Killua said, snapping his fingers together, and he looked at her like he had something fingered out from her words. Maybe he had. “You were frowning because of that?”
Aine nodded. “Yes.”
“...Wait,” his eyebrows pinched together after a moment, and his eyes narrowed. “You knew that there were snakes inside but still wanted to go in? Are you an idiot?”
“I didn’t know,” she told him.
“Yeah, yeah. ‘A guess doesn’t mean a correct answer,’ whatever. I guess you really are an idiot.”
She frowned. “How so?”
“Ah!” Gon perked. “Was it that cave that you talked about before?”
“Yeah, apparently,” Killua said dryly.
“...Do you kids know that none of you are making sense right now?” Leorio asked.
“Again, I lived through another trial!” Leorio said with a laugh, hands planted firmly onto his hip once the announcement of their completion of the fourth phase concluded.
His energy was a fleeting thing, it seemed, lasting only for the length of the boat ride, as he quickly crumpled into the cafeteria chair on the blimp they found themselves on after, sighing. His bold and confident expression melted off.
“...is what I’d say, but, damn, that last phase was definitely grueling, alright. I’m beat. Took everything out of me.”
“Physically?” she asked, stirring the cup of peppermint tea, watching the cube of sugar slowly dissolved and white steam rose like a haze, then she picked up the milk pitcher, and began stilly pouring the milk into the tea. “Mentally?”
Aine looked up to see Leorio, who had draped his upper body across the table.
He glanced up at her with tired eyes, that, for whatever reason, held a slight envy with them. “Both,” he said, a moue taking its place on his face, not at her though, before he slumped down again, groaning deeply. “Of course, it’s both. That said, I don’t know how you are the way that you are right now, Aine.”
She gave what he said a thought, then lightly frowned. “I don’t understand,” Aine told him, puzzled. As far as she could tell, there had been no difference in her behavior, or appearance, if they were to compare the start of the phase to now, other than a few injuries. “Am I overlooking something, Leorio?”
“You know, we were basically let loose into a free-for-all, battle-arena-esque thing, weren’t we?” he asked, and the quiet that followed was unmistakably a wait for a sort of confirmation from her.
Though Leorio hadn’t looked up, she nodded anyway, thinking that what had been said roughly captured the premise of the phase. “I suppose so,” she agreed.
He continued shortly.
“Well, even though I hadn’t exactly run around like a headless chicken thanks to Kurapika and Gon– and you as well, actually, thanks, Aine, it definitely felt like it. I was already kinda stressed going into it, but it wasn’t something that was eating me away. That had completely changed after the encounter with Hisoka. After that deranged clown, there was hardly a moment I could relax, you know?”
“Ah,” she said, blinking slowly. “You chanced upon Hisoka as well?
“I did. Horrible luck, and a grisly time. Just thinking about it makes my stomach hurt. Ugh…”
Leorio replied, his arms slid away from the table to wrap themselves around his body, and then, although taking some time, he finally faced up again.
He looked at her as if something had clicked, his haggard face pinched as he said, “Wait. ‘As well’? Don’t tell me you ran out of luck too?”
“...No,” she said after a second. “I wouldn’t say that.”
While it was true that she had seen Hisoka, Aine didn’t think that observing from a far distance counted as an encounter, especially when she considered the aftermaths from said encounter.
“Aine?”
There seemed to be something akin to trauma from it, if she was honest.
Aine pushed the peppermint tea across the table.
The cup was steaming and warm, but wouldn’t burn his tongue. The liquid slightly cooled, opaque from the splash of milk (it could almost be mistaken for chocolate milk, she thought, if not for the peppermint fragrance). Then, she slid a plate of biscotti along.
Leorio appeared confused, but he left her not waiting, and pushed himself up until his back was straight and he was fully facing her again.
“Thanks…?” he reached for the cup, taking a curious whiff of it, like how an animal would do something unknown before taking a sip, then jolting a little, seeming more awake with his eyes slightly wider. “...Uh, can I ask what this is?”
“Peppermint tea, a cube of sugar and a splash of milk,” she answered, folding her hands on her lap as she stared at him. “Would you like to continue?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah…right,” Leorio cleared his throat. It took him a moment. “Anyways, what I was trying to say was; the crash of tension and the accumulative stress makes me feel like shit. I basically died on my feet from the moment we had stepped onto the ship.”
He did look the part, if that was anything.
“...”
“Really,” he said, pausing, a wide yawn escaping him. He drank more of the tea, this time taking a bit of the biscotti as well. “I’d consider it a miracle that I’m even coherent enough for this conversation, honestly.”
“If Leorio wants to sleep, then it’s best that you find a proper place to do so,” Aine advised. “You should wash yourself first, though.”
He let out a big sigh. “And you think I have the left energy for that?”
“You do,” she said, and a grumpy look was directed at her, but no retort. “I’ll show you where the washroom is.”
Since there were significantly less of them now, it seemed that their amenities have been upgraded from their last visit at the blimp. Thinking about it, it was slightly disbalancing. At the start, there were hundreds of participants, but now, there was hardly a fraction left.
“...How do you even know that?” he asked with squinting eyes, “You’ve been with me since we boarded the blimp.”
“It’s the same blimp,” she said.
Aine thought that this might be the Hunter Association’s personal one, after all, she hadn’t seen another person outside of the staff, participants and proctors.
“Ha?”
.
.
.
(What was the point Leorio was trying to make, she couldn't help herself wondering. “What was the purpose of that talk?” she asked, her voice seemed to echo in the empty hallway.
“Oh, wait,” he clicked his tongue. “That’s right, we completely derailed from what I was trying to say!”
She nodded.
“There wasn’t one,” Leorio said. “A purpose. I just wanted to point out that you look incredibly well-kept for someone who had trekked around a forest, been left stranded for a week. I mean, you did, right?”
Aine stopped to look at him. “...”
“Okay, okay, as if the silence is not enough; your stare’s very judging!”
“I alighted from the ship before you, Leorio,” she reminded.
He pursed his lips. “Look. To be honest, your clothes look hard to maintain, Aine, and I had expected there to be a wear or tear or something, but they don’t even have a stain on them– I can see that you’ve gained more injuries, but that’s it!”
"Isn't that enough? Yours doesn't have any tear in them either," just wear and stains were another topic. She tilted her head. “I look as I always do.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” he exclaimed. “I’m exhausted, dead as a doornail, and Kurapika is too. Probably…I mean, he experienced the same things as me, so he should be, right?” he muttered almost self-consciously. “Now that I think about it, that brat was with you, and he looks in tip-top shape as well! And Gon…that kid’s been a little off since I saw him again. What’s up with that anyway?”
The topic was shifted again, she didn’t say.
“I don’t know,” was her reply, then, “Leorio is easily distracted.”
Like Aine was.
“Ah,” he blinked, then, he let out a sheepish ‘ha-ha’, once, then twice.)
Notes:
Thanks for reading :D
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