Hisoka scoops up Leorio, and something beeps.
"Hisoka, we're almost at the finish line. Catch up." Hisoka sighs as if doing a chore.
"Are you coming along, little mouse?"
I nod, following behind him like a lost puppy.
We finally make it to the finish line, where I use Leorio's supplies to dress his wounds. I return to Hisoka, who is speaking to the locust-sounding gangly man, who calls himself Gittarackur.
"There's the little mouse. Always so busy." Hisoka chuckles to himself.
Gittarackur leans in close, making direct, cold eye contact with me. I squeak in fear again, causing Hisoka's laugh to sound out. Gittarackur pulls away.
"That's why you call him little mouse then, yes?" Gittarackur's odd voice speaks.
"Exactly. Isn't it just the cutest little thing?" His laughter dies down as I hear Gon calling out.
I turn, beginning to walk away before being snatched back by the back of my shirt. I yelp, warm arms catching me.
"Don't leave me for them~ Stay here with me, my little mouse."
His golden eyes pierce my soul as I quietly nod. I stand upright, the large concrete doors opening.
A very large man sits behind a teal-haired lady.
"We are Menchi and Buhara, and we'll be this phases examiners!" Buhara's stomach growls, and we are instructed to find and cook some pork. We venture off into the forest.
I squeak in fear at the sight of giant pigs chewing on bones, my body clinging to Hisoka's arm as if he'll protect me. Which, indeed, he does as a pig comes running for us. I frown, backing away from him.
"I.. Don't want to be useless. I don't want for you to have to protect me all the time." I remember my learning of how to use a sword, from when I was editing a book about a samurai, and was trying to make sure it was well-researched.
I grab a sword-sized stick, swinging it to test it before Gon shouts out what to do to kill the pigs. I jump as high as I can, whacking the pig on its delicate forehead.
Hisoka seems surprised, impressed, or amused. I drag the big pig back, roasting it whole. I have no clue how to cook, always having eaten ordered food, or tv dinners.
____~____
An 11 year old Kazuya sits in his dingy room, sniffling as he eats a small amount of a TV dinner. He fed his siblings the rest of the food, leaving very little for himself. His mother and father shout for him from the next room.
He approaches, weakly, his fragile body covered in bruises and cuts, his eye bleeding.
His mother speaks, in a drunken tone.
"Tell your father why I cut your eye."
His gentle, quiet voice turns toward his father, too afraid to speak too loud.
"I woke up a few minutes later than normal and wasn't able to make her coffee.."
His father's harsh, cold, unapproving tone resounds.
"How dare you disobey your mother?! This is the last straw! Bring me your little brother." He calls for the 4 year old boy, the 5th of Kazuya's siblings, and the 6th child in all.
Kazuya gasps, begging for his brother's life.
"Please father, it wasn't his fault! Don't hurt him!"
It was too late.
Kazuya now had 4 siblings.
____~____
I snap back to attention, presenting my poorly cooked pork and returning to my station after being failed. Hisoka has an extremely pissed look on his face.
I cover my ears as people yell, the noises and sounds overwhelming. I wait, before Hisoka taps me gently.
"Come, little mouse. We're getting a second chance at the exam, so let's go get you some food and rest." He scoops me up, and I bury my face in his bubblegum-smelling shirt. I calm, slowly.
He lays me down after getting us some food, tucking me in like a loving father.
"Get some rest, darling."
I fall into a deep sleep, my dream much less a dream, more so a string of memories.
My littlest brother, 4 years old, Kishinu, dead in my arms at the hands of my father. I was 11.
My littlest sister, 5 years old, Mitsuri, dead in my arms at the hands of my mother. It was my 12th birthday.
My younger sister, 7 years old, Miwa, dead in my arms at the hands of my father. I was 12.
My younger brother, 8 years old, Todo, dead in my arms at the hands of my father. I was 13.
My best friend, my twin brother. 14 years old, Kazuha, dead in my arms at the hands of my father. I was 14.
My mother, 42, dead in my father's arms, at my own hands. I was 17.
My father, 47, dead in my mother's arms, at my own hands. I was 17.
How romantic, dying in each other's arms.
I gasp, sitting up, hyperventilating.
Hisoka wraps his arms around me, patting my back.
"I'm here, little mouse. What's wrong?"
I try to respond, my words reduced to stuttered sobs.
"Breathe, darling."
I take a minute to breathe.
"Nightmare.. past..." I sigh.
"I had... a memory. Of my past."
"Oh? Care to tell?"
"My siblings.. all five of them. My parents slaughtered them and abused me. They kept me alive for tax benefits. I turned 17, and they spoke about kicking me out at my next birthday... So I killed them. I buried them right next to my siblings that they killed. I changed my name, moved away. My current name.. Kazuya.. is based on my twin, Kazuha."
YOU ARE READING
The Clown & his Loyal Dog
Fanfiction'Kazuya' was a.. somewhat normal guy living in Zaban City, until his favorite restaurant was the hunter's exam's starting line.
