A Worthy Enemy (HunterxHunter)

Chapter 9: Hidden Rage

Corrin dabbed a white washcloth over her skin, soaking up the blood until it turned a ruby red. There was an ominous silence between her and Machi and she sat patiently on a small, cushioned couch across their luxurious polished bathroom, watching her clean up after herself. Golden facets, pearly counters and floors, and glass mirrors shielded the showers. Corrin was thankful her and Machi were roommates as everyone had split into pairs to share a room. For once, the Troupe had to settle in a specific location through connections and their base wasn't rubble and dirt. Not that she cared since she was always gone and could live wherever she wanted. Eight rooms and two floors, yet this place didn't feel as crowded as she anticipated.

"I don't think I've ever seen this much blood on you," said Machi, handing her another washcloth.

Corrin sighed, tossing the drenched cloth in the trashcan, careful not to get any near Machi. "Remind me to burn these later." She dragged another cloth along her legs, wiping the vile spit from Don, and the blood of the red-haired man from her ankles. The blood from the poison, however, held a purple tint and was staining her fair skin in most of the areas, even her face and neck. After a few minutes, Corrin looked away, shivering at her own actions. "I got carried away again." She knew Machi knew, but it took all her strength to admit it out loud. Then she scoffed, "Not that Hisoka made it any better. I hate to admit it, but he was good."

"He's a handful," Machi said in a droning tone. "If they decide to bring him back here, we'll all be in for it."

"I trust Boss to kill him if this so-called 'fight' is true. Because I would very much like to kill him myself." Corrin scrubbed harder at the thought. His bloodlust was constantly slipping without a care in the world and his cold aura never wavered. He was truly unafraid. Or always made sure to hold the upper hand. Whatever.

"No one has ever been as persistent as him to kill Chrollo before or has even survived long enough to get to this point. Hisoka doesn't hesitate to pursue whatever he likes. Controlling him would be impossible and I can't think of a single thing that would give us leverage to hold over him besides a promised fight with Boss. Plus, it would be a pain to kill him on our own."

Corrin finished cleaning her body, revealing only a few cuts and bruises from the fight with the dark-skinned man. Well, that and a broken rib but it would heal on its own...eventually. Corrin kicked off her heels and they retreated back to the bedroom. Her throat growled under her breath. No matter how much her power hushed her anger on the outside, she was always fuming within. Burning up from a bottomless pit of revenge and hatred. She wanted to say more, she wanted to scream but it wouldn't solve anything and continue to waste energy.

"Corrin," Machi said, tossing her a pair of shorts and an oversized hoodie as they carried themselves to the bedroom.

Corrin caught it and glanced at her fingers. "Blood is so hard to clean. It gets stuck in the crevices of my nails."

"Corrin," Machi said again in a scolding tone.

Corrin slowly lifted her head. "I know."

"I know you know. But you don't have to worry or feel sorry about holding back. I'm sure there are more men where that came from." Machi leaned back on her hands over the bed, waiting for a response.

But Corrin remained silent. It wasn't just having to hold in so much anger, it was just simply never enough to kill one man. To torture hundreds. And if she lost it, who knows where she'd end up.

Machi sat forward. "How about next time I join you with the next group you want to take out."

Corrin's eyes lit up. "Oh, will you now?"