Unentered number
are you available?
Kurapika
Why? Was there a recent development?
Unentered number
Not exactly. Now the fifth phase is underway, but it seems to be nothing much.
Kurapika
If that is the case, please refrain from contacting me. I only asked for frequent updates regarding the Exam itself and her location and intentions. Anything other than those two, aside from points that seem crucial, I do not require. I am taking time out of my busy workday to respond. Good day.
Unentered number
See, that's what I wanted to talk about. The formality. Is it really necessary?
Unentered number
You know I'm not an extremely formal person, and while you signed me up under terms of business, its not exactly that, is it? I know there's more.
Unentered number
You don't have to let me know all of everything, but could we start off in a way that I can understand what you need?
Unentered number
um
Unentered number
hello?
read at 5:55 am
* * *
Feitan headed down the hall, trying to scowl but unable to. The rest of his interview had gone smoothly, and Beans had let him know they would call everyone together later for the results, a faint smile on his face as if nothing had happened. With his shredded gloves sticking out from the pocket right above his heart, though (if his anatomy was even normal), Fei knew that it had indeed happened.
He knew there were strong people, some perhaps even stronger than him. He was not invincible, but he supposed that perhaps, he had allowed himself to think—to foolishly believe—that he was. There were few people in this world who could beat Feitan in an all-out fight, and Beans wouldn't be one of them. Feitan knew he was stronger than him, but only by a small degree.
It had been a long time since he had that realization shoot through him, that taking damage was a high possibility. That times would come where his well-being would be threatened.
For a moment, for a flitting moment, Feitan wondered if this was how Uvogin felt when he faced the chain user.
When he turned the corner, he found himself in the hallway, a vending machine to his left and his group farther up ahead, upon beanbags and blankets and sitting together. Some were reading, some were on their phone, some were enjoying a drink. It's absurd how he ended up here—it was either pure chance or being drawn to a source of young, inferior potential—but he continued to make his way toward them, boots falling silent on the carpet.
"Mr. Zushi, please come to the main office."
Feitan stopped walking.
The boy in question bid farewell to his friends and greeted the Spider as he passed him by ("Oh, hello there, Feitan-san!"), nervously tugging at his collar for the exam ahead. His gaze was caught and his raven head dragged back for a few moments as the boy brushed by his shoulder. Somehow, now, now of all times, he finally looked familiar.
"Fei!" Rein called him over, waving a can of soda in the air.
He went quickly, cutting off any other attempts made to speak to him, getting straight to the point. "Hey," Feitan kept his voice low as he jutted out his jaw at the receding boy's back, "his name is Zushi?"
* * *
At the lack of people, Zepile sighed at Killua, the only one left. "Why is it that whenever we sit down, everyone leaves within the span of thirty seconds?"
He simply shrugged. Zushi had gone off per the orders of the chairman's secretary, Ponzu disappeared again to do god knows what, Lucky had tried to open Rein's dropped can of soda and had accidentally drenched himself in soft drink, and as for Rein herself, the Spider had blinked at her once before grabbing her by the collar and dragging her off with some harsh, secretive muttering.
"Killua, is something bothering you?"
"What?"
"Oh, uh..." there was a hint of embarrassment in his tone, "...just thought something was up since... well, since the third phase, actually, but if it's nothing..." Zepile failed to finish his run-on sentence and instead lit a cigarette.
Killua gave a disinterested response on the outside. Internally, however, his thoughts and feelings were quite another matter.
The third phase, in which Zepile faced certain death and Killua had been knocked unconscious because he'd somehow been able to evade that certainty. Killua was fast. But he wasn't nearly as fast enough to do what he'd done back then. Of course, he didn't remember anything much from the incident himself, other than being flung into the explosion and the man away from it before everything went black.
No matter which way he tried to untangle the trick, he got nowhere. With his current body, his current strength, it just wasn't possible to cover that distance in that time frame. He couldn't fly, now could he?
Could he?
Holding up his fingers, he let some electricity zap between them. Electricity was fast, faster than anything a human could ever hope to accomplish. With this, he would've gotten there on time. If he used his Hatsu, that would have been the only explanation why Zepile was alive, and why the explosion had occurred.
Could his Hatsu have other uses?
Zepile was still talking (Killua hadn't listened to a thing he'd said) when there was a sudden rush in the air, and his fingers burned. At the far end of the hall, the cigarette he'd been holding thunked against the window.
"Killua?"
A pant.
"You okay?"
Killua's chest heaved, and he could feel sweat already perspiring as beads on his forehead. His entire body was numb, the ground swaying beneath his feet. "Yeah," he said, white stars pricking at his vision. "Totally."
His Hatsu held much more possibilities than he'd originally planned for it. With some practice and training, he could perhaps move as quick as lightening itself. But for now—he dropped to the ground, pressing back against the wall—he wasn't physically able to accomplish it.
He'd have to bring it up with Bisky when he got back to Greed Island. She was a harsh master to train under, but he would be lying if he said she wasn't a good mentor. He'd always liked getting stronger. And under Bisky's high-pitched screaming and furious fists, he was sure his Nen would bloom into something spectacular. It wouldn't be controlled, like how the Zoldyck system worked. His potential could branch out freely, dangerously. And he planned on doing just that.
He pondered for a bit and reached his decision.
Godspeed.
Had a nice ring to it.
"If you're sure you're fine," said Zepile slowly, eyeing Killua's fatigued state.
He smiled faintly. Training with Illumi had focused much on remaining stoic and making sure others would never see how you felt, never see your pain, your torment, anxieties. Of course, he wasn't as deep into it as his brother was. But it still seeped into his actions, his default poker face. Yet his mask hadn't covered it all, and Zepile had noticed it from the very start.
"You should quit the auctions," he asserted. "Be a teacher or a therapist or a doctor or something."
An involuntary snort came from him. "Thanks, but I'll pass. I don't want to give up my lifeblood, that and I have to make up for my past actions. Plus, there's no way I can handle two jobs at once."
"Then be a dad." Killua went on casually as Zepile's face started to redden. "You'd be a good dad. You're nice, you like kids, you're super passive and easy to take advantage of, you take everyone seriously. That's the dream. Just go find a girl, romance her, and get-"
"Okay, Killua, I think that's enough," he interrupted, sputtering.
"See? You're getting into the role already."
* * *
No matter which roundabout way he went, Rein was not getting it. "I know you talked to Machi about number eight," he accused.
"I, uh..."
How did she not get it, it was so obvious what he was trying to say-! He sighed. "Remember anything?" At the pursing of her lips, Feitan gave up. "Zushi," he said. "Son of number eight."
Finally, it seemed to click. "Eight? Temmi or whatever? Her? Him?" Her breathing was rushed as she continued to mutter realizations and excuses before finally turning tightly on her heel to face him. There was still a hint of doubt on her face. She knew she should trust Fei's words, but the uncertainty lining her features was plain to see.
But Feitan had evidence. "I heard entire backstory. Eavesdrop. Story matches with what I know happened." His voice was almost hoarse from all the voluntary talking. "Eight made up name. I don't think anyone else would have it."
"Fei, are you absolutely, without-a-doubt sure?" she asked, eyes wide to stress the importance of her words.
"I'm never wrong," he snapped. That deep collarbone, the short cut hair with a brown that had completely clashed against his mother's hue, but the large eyes that were the exact same shape as hers. "I saw him when he was four, hasn't changed a bit."
Rein fell quiet, look brimming with questions and decisions before finally picking one. "Could he come back with us to Greed Island?"
"Why."
She faltered in her words as she tried to go on, to somehow explain. "I mean Zushi is only training, and Temmi would probably want her kid happy so, I don't know, if he could just know what happened and the truth, they would like, I mean, she, he, uh... it's right?"
Feitan let her rambling awkwardly trail off before he gave his opinion: "So?"
Rein was exasperated. "Fei."
He rolled his eyes. "Since when do you care what dead people want?"
The girl stayed silent, her fists squeezing tightly against her sides. Her gaze stayed fixed intently on the ground.
He sighed. Wondering whether to do it, Feitan finally gave her a single pat on the shoulder, letting it rest there. Why did everything seem to connect to Yorknew? Here they stood, thousands of feet up in the air, yet still haunted by the chain user. Feitan never forgot those they'd lost, but at the tiring stillness that overtook the air, perhaps he would've liked to.
"It's," her voice was hesitant, "what she would've wanted, at least probably. Can we?"
Feitan drew back his hand and stuck it deep inside his pocket. "I never liked eight," he started. "Know-it-all. Deaf. Not enough willpower. Breathed too loud. Made Phinks get all mushy faced, and his hands did weird things."
She tugged at a strand of hair as she tried to cover up her falling expression. "So that's a no?"
"I didn't say that."
Her face lit up. "So a yes?"
What Feitan just said was true. He hadn't liked number eight at all, and the other Spiders that had been present knew it. Aside from the part where her existence had been plain annoying, she had to go and seduce Phinks into talking about poetry. Poetry. And suddenly, he and Phinks' weekend drinking sessions had been replaced with many 'maybe tomorrow's and 'I'm busy today's, only for Feitan to track down the idiot and find him staring intently at a book with her. A book. Phinks, with a book. His dislike for her had really intensified after that. So in the few years she had been with the Spiders, Feitan had never thought of her as a part of his troupe.
During the time she was alive, that is. He hadn't hated her, only been a bit... because at first, she had been alone and he'd had a friend, and their roles had switched so quickly. The epiphany that while she wasn't his troupe but was still something more than a stranger came too late, only after her feet left the rail and he'd been too slow to make it.
And here was her son, with an eerily similar aura.
"I don't care," he stated. "You drag him along whether I like or not so whatever. I'll contact Shalnark."
She couldn't stop an excited cry from escaping her and tried to hug Feitan, who pushed away as soon as he could. Rein settled for a grin. Because his answer; it was definitely, definitely a yes.
* * *
Each one-on-one session for the fifth phase took less than three hours, and soon, it was all over. After an anticlimactic, hour-long lecture, they were released as new Hunters from the airship, at the base of a Hunter Association branch, where the ship had so conveniently landed.
He could see Heaven's Arena from this balcony, which meant that somewhere down in the bustling streets, Wing was waiting for him to come back. Waiting, because he trusted him, right? Because he knew that Zushi was an obedient child and wouldn't delay once his objective was completed. Because he knew that whatever he asked of him would be his top priority. Because Wing knew that Zushi was the ideal student, one perfectly suited for the way of martial arts formality, loyalty, and training. The same thing over and over again, for an ultimate goal.
But all those things he knew, that was the old Zushi, and a simple few days away from his life showed him that it was repetitive, boring, and his world small compared to the vastness of the universe of others. The former Zushi was now gone, or perhaps he hadn't been there in the first place. It was shameful, a disgrace to everything he'd trained toward, but he didn't want to go back.
Not to a life of money and competition.
His body wished to rest. His heart wished to drink his orange juice in peace without searching warily for malicious auras that wanted to do away with his spot on the 200th floor, and not have to be on guard every time he heard a small thud. His mind wished for the pressure of thousands of eyes on him to disappear forever. And he longed for a friend or two.
One striving to be strong and become a floor master shouldn't have them.
But he wanted these things.
Want was such a strong feeling, a subtle greed that felt almost wrong to him. He would go apologize to Wing for it later, in fact, he was going to right this instant.
Rein had reached out to him, and he'd already taken the offer. There was no way he could back out on that now, for a promise was a promise.
Ah finally this Hunter Exam arc with nothing interesting happening other than setting up and foreshadowing has come to an end.
Off to Greed Island and the rest of the Phantom Troupe (I love them too much, I think it's a problem)
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