The bartender slides a glass of whiskey into my hand. It's cool to the touch, but the alcohol is a slow burn down my throat. Abengane holds up his glass like he was expecting a toast. There's no use in putting off a perfectly good drink after the day I've had. I'm sure he meant this to be a social affair. Some of it will be, but first I need to calm my nerves. Mellow out with the low folk music in the background.
I lean my head against the glass. "What's on your mind?"
"Well first congrats on winning the contest. Anyone who could survive that shit show deserved to win."
I shrug and lean my head to the side. "I actually thought you'd win. It's hard to go wrong with Freddie Mercury."
"I thought so too. But the rawness of your voice was haunting. I think it's something everyone feels, but doesn't want to admit, that fragility when we're hurt, because we have to keep moving. To be strong and fragile at the same time, to be that vulnerable in front of a crowd is amazing. I felt your voice in my bones. Were those tears real or just a part of the show?"
I sigh, too tired to lie. And it's not like I'm going to see this guy again. Anonymity can be safe. "Both."
"It seems like you're having a tough day."
"Hence the offer for the drink?"
"In part."
"And what's the other part?" I ask.
Several rowdy men enter the bar, but quiet down when they see us. They look at me like I've done something to them. They might be from the contest, but if so, their performances didn't stand out because I don't really remember them. One of them approaches the bar to order drinks and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. It's a sharp look that cuts. Best to keep an eye on this group. I clutch the glass in my hand, just in case I need to break it over his head.
Abengane turns around and leans over the bar next to me. The way his elbow touches mine makes me believe he doesn't want anyone to see what he's about to say. We're being watched. Obviously Killua is somewhere, but I have a feeling there's someone else, perhaps multiple people. Guess I better enjoy this moment of peace while I can.
"It would seem you have a lot of admirers."
I chuckle and sip my drink. "That's one way of putting it."
"I had my suspicions that someone had it out for you when the music kept changing. I'm assuming they've seen your talent and that's why they tried to sabotage you. I saw a pale man with red hair on a few occasions and wondered..."
Once he says that, I don't hear what comes after because my thoughts are too loud. I try so hard to hide my smile that I blush. So Hisoka is here. Wonder why he's hiding. It doesn't sound like he and Killua get along so there's no mystery about earlier, but why not now? He definitely doesn't strike me as the type to be uncomfortable interrupting a conversation or stealing me from someone else. Hell, if anything that would stroke his ego.
My skin prickles as if it can already sense his eyes on me. If only I could feel his nail lightly graze my neck or back, or smell the cedarwood of his skin. I want to look for him, but can't be too obvious. Maybe he wants a chase. Hmm, if that's the case he'll just have to catch me because I'm in no mood to run. "He wouldn't sabotage me. The guy you're talking about. I know him. Many people do want to see me fail, but he isn't one of them."
Abengane raises an eyebrow at me. Maybe he can sense the added sweetness in my voice. "A lot of people wanted that card, but I'm hoping we can narrow down suspects."
My nails tap against the glass and I feel the coolness massage my fingertips. It soothes me as I think about the usual suspects. Mattheo's cronies. He's not brave or stupid enough to approach me on his own. The Bomber or one of his henchmen, if they know about me, which they shouldn't. The men behind us who are muttering into their drinks. Anyone in the crowd during the contest. Oh yea, and Machi for whatever reason.
Yep, that narrows things down. I look at my drink, and realize that things that would normally piss me off in a situation like this don't really phase me. I'm too tired to care. "Nobody's coming to mind. But unpredictability comes with being a hunter."
"I took you for more of an artist," he says.
I look at Abengane and start to wonder about him. Why does he care so much about who's watching me? In the past, there's been an assassin or two who tried to befriend me in order to finish me. Of course, I nailed them before things got too far, and Abengane will be in for the same fate if he tries anything. But I'd really prefer not to. I want this encounter to be one of the few pleasant ones I have. To have one less person to suspect. "I am many things, but the question is who are you?"
"An ally," he responded.
I look directly at him. "You don't even know me."
He twirls his glass by the rim on the counter. "I've seen enough to respect you. And to know that we might be able to help each other while we're on this island."
I look him up and down. He stares back waiting to see my reaction. It would be nice to just trust someone for a change, not have to constantly be on guard, but that can get you killed on missions. Perhaps if I don't get too close and do a trial run with him, it could be helpful. I have enough enemies as it is.
An angry voice shouts behind us. "Hey!"
Abengane and I both look up. Several gamers who were in the singing contest stand around us, leering at me. Their leader stands in the middle, balding and sweaty, khakis, tiki shirt, and bulky brown walking boots. They reek of stale beer and sweat. "You think you're hot shit just because you shed a few tears about getting picked on as a kid?"
"Bet the judges just chose you out of pity," one of the guys say.
"You didn't even know what fucking song you were singing," another one quips.
Abengane chuckles. "It's not her fault that your performance was mediocre."
The leader steps in front of Abengane. "Nobody's talking to you."
I tilt the glass from side to side. "Whatever happened to losing gracefully?"
"There was nothing graceful about you winning just for screeching into the mic. You don't deserve that reward. So how about this, you hand over the card and we won't beat you and your boyfriend to a pulp?"
Sigh. My left temple starts to pulse and my body's tense with exhaustion. Normally I'd already put men like this in their place, but I'd prefer to take the easy road this time. Though I know that won't happen, I try to play nice anyway. "Listen, I'm starting to get a headache and I'd prefer not to kick your ass in front of your friends. So please, can we all just get along tonight?"
He tries to grab my face. "Bitch, ple—"
I grab his wrist and turn it til it cracks. He screams, arm tightening under my grasp. Well, the peace was fun while it lasted. I look at the glass in my hand. There's no point in wasting good whiskey on this fool. So I swallow the rest before crashing the glass on his head, which sends him to his knees.
His hench men pounce on us. There's a glass shard left over in my hand that I use to slice at their hands and arms as they run at me and Abengane. He throws one of them across the bar stand and the guy lands on a stranger, spilling his drink. Some other men get bumped as the fighting ensues and jump in to defend themselves. Others seem to join for the hell of it or because they're drunk and used to making stupid decisions. Pretty soon, an all-out bar brawl starts.
The bartender's screaming for us all to stop or take it outside. If anything, that only fuels the fight. Chairs are thrown, glasses shatter, tables are turned over, blood spills, but worst of all alcohol is wasted. After he narrowly misses a picture that's shot towards his head, the bartender breaks down crying and ducks for cover behind the bar. "Who's going to pay for all this?"
Abengane and I are positioned back-to-back waiting for more men to charge us. "Still wanna be my ally?" I shout.
He kicks a guy in the chest like he's banging down a door and laughs. "Why? You don't think I can handle it?"
"You tell me."
He turns on his nen and sizes up the room. "I'll take the right if you'll handle the left."
I take down my hair from its high ponytail and grip it like a whip. "Sounds good to me."
I swing my hair so it wraps around one of the hench men's throats and use his body as a bat to knock down several others. All of a sudden I feel sharp thwack on my back. When I turn, I see another one of baldy's cronies looking down on me with a wooden plank in his hands. "This could all end if you just give us the ca—"
Before he can finish, I sling my hair around one of his ankles and pull him to the ground. But he's fast and jumps on me like a cheetah then wraps his hands around my throat. "It'll take more than some long hair to beat me." The way his body leans into mine makes me think of Mattheo. The weight of a man I don't want, didn't ask for. I feel restrained even though my hands are free. His pelvis sits on my chest and I want to scream.
Images from last night return: me stripped down, bent over a table, all those men watching me being helpless. It's hard to breathe, but I have to stay calm. He might be fast, but he's not stronger than me, so why am I acting like he is? It really is hard to breathe now. Before things get blurry I turn to the side as much as I can and elbow his arms so they bend and loosen his hold. In the split second I have to make a move I elbow him in the jaw so hard two of my knuckles crack. My body grows hot and fills with rage. Rage I don't fully understand and that I can't control.
My nen powers up without me turning it on. The wind and water in my body flare up, connect to the elements all around me. The guy's face bloodies and bruises underneath my fists. He's down for the count and I want to stop, but I can't. Something that isn't me is unhinged in my body. The last thing I see is a smaller pale body running near me, electricity filling the air. Shouts of the bar fight deaden. Darkness. X-ray vision of the bodies moving around me. Bones. Organs. Veins. Blood. Part of me wants to crush all the life out of them. What's happening to me? This amount of violence isn't me. Punishing innocent people isn't me. I can feel the wooden planks beneath my feet, the afternoon air, the heat of everyone's breath and spit. I feel these things as if they're my own skin.
Images from my past begin coming back. Me in surgery. The doctors are taking something out of my body they didn't ask for. They gave me enough anesthesia to keep me drowsy, to keep me from screaming so I wouldn't fight back, but not enough for me to forget the pain or the blood. My stomach feels cut open just thinking about it. I still wasn't beautiful afterwards. They made my insides as ugly as my outside. They gave me a book as a parting gift, as if another world could make this one bearable. A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. The irony. Blood cries down between my legs as I began reading it in my hospital bed.
Someone is calling my name in a distance I can't reach, like shouts through rainfall. I think they're telling me to put something down, but I don't know what. But whatever is happening is beyond anything I've experienced in my body or mind before. It scares me. I wish someone could save me from myself. I feel the nen of my body continue connecting with the aura of earth and water around me. A whirlwind. Heavy.
"Stop. Stop!" a voice yells beside me.
I want to lay it all down, but my fear and rage won't let me. I can't see what's happening in front of me. Only the past. Then bodies. Skeletons spiraling everywhere. I want to escape this prison my mind has trapped me in before I'm completely lost. Somebody, please. Help me.
A set of hands grab my wrists. They smack the back of my hands so hard it hurts, which slowly centers me back into reality. Things are blurry around me. I feel my knees on the ground. When did I slip down to the floor? I hear crashing and grunts. A great weight has been lifted. But energy begins to leave my body, withering out through my hands. I start to see a fire building in the hands near mine. The weaker I feel, the stronger the ball of fire grows. As I fall over, a tan man catches me. Abengane. His face comes into focus. "Oby, are you okay?"
There isn't much feeling in my face so I can't answer yet. I look forward at a tall blonde man who's slowly moving towards the door with the controlled fire, the size of a volleyball in his hands. He takes it outside and quickly launches it like a pitcher towards the sky. A few seconds later, the fire ball explodes near the stars. The blast booms, causes the building to shake slightly. Or maybe I'm just dizzy. Everything still feels like it's moving. If Abengane wasn't holding me up I'd have fallen over already.
As I look around, I see the windows are busted, shards of broken tables, chairs, glass, cracks in the wall, and a hole in the roof which I realized is how I saw the explosion by the stars. People are looking at me wide-eyed like deer and I'm the car about to hit them. Their shaking, blood, bruises. The rubble...did I cause all this?
"What did I do?" I finally ask.
He looks down and shakes his head. "Everything happened so fast. One moment I saw you beating that guy's face to a pulp, the next your eyes went black and furniture and liquid started levitating and hitting whoever was in their way. It's like a tornado was coming, but you were frozen in the middle of it."
Fuck. I look around at all the debris and the men. Their fear is palpable. The guy I pummeled is now in a corner. When did I throw him? I don't want to believe I'm capable of causing damage but what's to stop me from doing it again? Half the bar stand is gone and the barkeep is shaking behind what's left of it. I struggle to get up and walk slowly over. His eyes grow big at my approach.
"It's okay," I tell him, but I know he doesn't believe me. Understandable. I dig all the money I have out of my bra and give it to him, try to steady his hands underneath mine. It's not nearly enough to cover everything, but it's a start.
"We should leave."
Abengane grabs me to go, but I notice a pale arm peaking from underneath some broken floorboards and rubble. I rush over and push it all off of Killua, noticing cuts all along his body, with a major gash near his jugular. He's barely conscious and his heartbeat is sluggish. There's no time to feel guilty. I pick him up and run in the quickest way I can find to the forest. "Where are you going?" someone shouts behind. It's all I can do to hold myself up and this little boy, I have to focus on getting to a place with a strong enough aura. I use gyo to find a place.
A large canopy tree comes into view. There's so much life energy circulating through it that it looks like a flight of dragonflies. I lay him against the trunk and place one hand on the tree and the other on Killua's gash. Focus on my breath. I feel the roots of the tree through my fingers. Its stems all the way up to its leaves. It's at least a few centuries old and will regain the energy I take from it in no time. The outline of Killua's skeleton appears before me. His heartbeat's growing fainter.
Aura slowly travels through my arms, it feels like a stiff breeze. But it's taking too long. Not healing him fast enough. Shit. Think. When I healed Hisoka's face, what did I use? My mouth. With one hand still on the tree I scoop Killua's limp body closer to me and place my lips on his. They're so small and cold. I take the longest breath I can and fill him up. I can feel the aura travel through his lungs, spine, skin, all the places he hurts.
Whatever came out of me tried to destroy everything in sight, had no control, just untamed anger and panic. Desperate to escape. I can't let that happen again, not if it's going to do this. If it's going to destroy me and those I care about. Warmth starts to come back to his body, blood rushes through veins, skin smooths, breath reenters, then he wakes and kisses me back. The bark of the tree under my hand withers.
"What are you doing!"
I turn to see a disgusted Bisky, Gon with his eyes bugged-out and a stupid grin. Abengane's face is scrunched up as if he's trying to figure things out for himself.
I roll my eyes. "Calm down. I was saving his life." I face Killua again and stroke his face. "Hey, are you okay?"
His eyes start to flutter open. When his eyes focus on me, the familiar blush returns to his cheeks and his eyes bug out like Gon's. He rushes to stand and move away from me like he did something wrong. "Oh no, I thought it was a dream! Did we just—"
Gon giggles. "You looked like you were pretty into that dream."
Killua covers his face. "Shut up! I didn't know what was happening."
"Yet here you were...making things happen."
Bisky pops Gon upside the head. "Stop it! This is weird enough as it is." She looks from him to Killua. "Head back in town so Oby and I can talk."
Gon flashes me a wicked grin that reminds me of his father and is a bit odd for a child. I used to think he was innocent, but now I'm not so sure. Killua stares at the ground, the shadow of his hair covering half his face. It'll be a while before he can look me in the eyes again. Poor thing. Gon's gonna torment the crap out of him on their way back. No telling when that'll let up. Though I will admit, Killua's not a bad kisser. Surprisingly tender for an inexperienced kid. But I'd never tell anyone that.
When the sound of the boys traipsing through brush dissipates, Bisky starts towards me, but sees Abengane out of the corner of her eye like she forgot he was there. "Thanks for looking after her, but I got it from here."
He purses his lips. "I just wanted to make sure Oby's okay—"
"I get that, but I think we're done with strangers for today."
I raise my hand in front of me. "Bisky calm down. He can stay, it's not that big—"
"Should I be worried?" she asks.
I blow a raspberry. "About me and Killua? Ew. He's just a boy. I was just doing it to heal him."
"Not that. Though whatever you two have going is fucking weird. But right now, I'm talking about you. You seem to be hanging by a thread. I know it's been rough lately, but you seem especially off."
I shrug. "I just need rest."
Her eyes narrow at me. "You say that, and yet you refused to sleep earlier. Why?"
"I wasn't tired then."
"Not buying it. Try again."
I fold my arms and sigh. "I thought you weren't going to try to pressure me into talking."
"I wasn't. But then I saw you turn into a puddle at the talent show. Then you disappear with this dude and an hour later an explosion went off in the bar and all of a sudden you're running into the forest with Killua. Even you must admit things have been strange. And they probably won't improve until we figure out what the problem, or problems, are."
I snort. "Don't you think I'm trying to figure that out myself? That I want things to get back to normal? I don't like being a threat to everyone around me including myself. Being uncomfortable in large groups of people, being afraid to go to sleep, balling my eyes out in front of strangers, is not who I am. If I can't recognize what's happening to me, there's nothing I can tell you."
Bisky rolls her neck at my response. "I think you know more than what you're letting on. Maybe if we just talked about what happened last night."
"What happened last night?" Abengane asked.
I put my hand in his face and push him away from me. "Excuse you, sir, this isn't your business."
"I tried to politely say that from the start," Bisky mutters.
Abengane stares at me. "Look I know you don't know me, but you do seem to be withholding something that's potentially triggering you."
"Triggering?" I repeat incredulously.
He scratches the back of his head. "When you were fighting that guy, you seemed scared, like you had to talk yourself into fighting him. I saw you run through the rest of the crew like water and there was nothing special about the guy who toppled you, so there had to be something else."
Bisky puts her hands together and places them on her forehead. I can tell she's trying to stay calm. "Why don't we start with what just happened? The boys and I had lunch outside near the bar you guys entered. Killua was keeping a close eye on things, then out of nowhere he took off. I started to hear things crashing around. As soon as Gon and I started heading over, the wind picked up, the ground shook, then some blonde dude with a ball of fire that looks like an explosive throws it towards the sky. Now what happened on your end?"
I can't bring myself to relive what happened. I don't know why. And it's all I can do not to curse both of them out to leave me alone. Abegnane answers the question for me. Reporting what he saw. But I know these details about the present are just leading to my past. I don't know how my memories are relevant to now, why they're haunting my sleep. But I barely want to know about that time, let alone share with strangers how ugly it was.
Maybe it'd be best if I were on my own for a while so I don't have so many voices adding to my stress. Besides, it'd be fewer people to worry about in a time where I can't even trust myself. "Look, I appreciate you both are trying to do, but it's not going to work. I need to do this my own way. If you're worried about me being a threat, I'll get out of your hair."
Bisky shakes her head no. "That's not what we're saying—"
I close my eyes for a moment. "I'm tired, I'm dirty and I'm trying to be nice when all I really want to do is devour anything that gets in my way. I just need some space to clear my head."
Abengane speaks softly. "I don't think it's safe to separate—"
My skin heats up again. "Oh my god fuck off already! I'm warning you."
My eyes bare into each of them once more before I take off into the jungle. Wouldn't be surprised if I look as evil as I sound. But they don't get it and I'm not in the mood to explain myself. Nobody asked for their help anyway. I brush past the branches and leaves, harpies squawking above me, howler monkeys watching me from the trees. The sun is still hot on my shoulders. Thankfully they don't try to follow me.
Author's Note: Thank you all for your patience. Make sure to VOTE for this story if you like it. Multiple writing projects going on. Novel. Short fiction and nonfiction pubs coming out in the next few months. In other news, I got into grad school for creative writing. Iowa Writers' Workshop <3<3<3 Anyway, get ready for a standoff with The Bomber! I have a feeling Abengane and Oby will get uncomfortably close, n not by choice lol. I know, I know. Hisoka will be back, in the flesh ;) to save the day. Stay tuned. Things are about to get wet! xoxox