𝐖𝐈𝐌𝐏, ʰᵘⁿᵗᵉʳ ˣ ʰᵘⁿᵗᵉʳ

39 | CALM BEFORE THE STORM

*ੈ✩‧₊˚CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: CALM BEFORE THE STORM

"𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍," Gon says, motioning for you, Killua and Hisoka to come closer. The four of you huddle together, leaning in to ensure Razor doesn't overhear anything.

Killua arches an eyebrow. "A good one, I hope."

"Be nice," you hiss, pinching his ear, to which he glares you.

"I'm always nice." He huffs, purposefully playing up the act of a petulant child. Christ, he really does enjoy testing your patience.

"Uh-huh, and I'm actually from an alternative universe."

As you listen to Gon's grand idea, Razor watches from the other side of the court like a hawk. His steely gaze feels like it's drilling holes into the back of your head, a one-sided war he's determined to win even with the match paused. He's the all-or-nothing type, you conclude.

Gon's plan replays over and over in your mind until it's tattooed there, and soon, you hear the referee blow the whistle, indicating the match is about to start again. Razor smirks, calling back his Nen beasts so he can harness the power he'd used to summon them and channel them into his body. The spike in his aura instantly shot up, far more potent now that his full strength was back.

If you had to describe him, you'd say he very nearly resembled an overstimulated mountain bear that was on every performance-enhancing drug known to man. But you and your team were not about to back down. You were determined to face this challenge head-on, your resolve as strong as the opponent's power.

"Are you three ready?" Gon calls out, drawing your focus. Killua offers a thumbs up and a nod, and Hisoka does what he does best: be all mysterious and say nothing in return with that signature esoteric smile carved onto his lips—acting like he was in a silent film; this wasn't a game of charades, goddammit. But despite your differences, you were a team united in your goal to win this match.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you reply, "Ready as I'll ever be, which is never, but thanks anyway for checking in. You're a real one."

You hear the referee's whistle blow, and as you shift your attention back to Razor, you realise he's already on the prowl. He snickers as if he is in on some inside joke that only he knows about and tosses the ball into the air. That pose, the speed behind the ball, the slight spin; he was going to spike the damn thing. And from the look of it, spike it with the power of a thousand suns.

"Positions, positions, everyone!" Gon calls out to the three of you, his feet shifting into a wider stance. There's no need to tell you twice; your limbs are twitching, and you're ready to go the second the ball leaves Razor's hand. The anticipation is palpable, and you're all on the edge of your seats, figuratively speaking, in this suspenseful moment.

Moving fast, Killua slots himself behind Gon, pressing his back against the spiky-haired boy's and hooking his arms around his waist to act as a support pillar. Hisoka soon joins, positioned behind the two with his arms half-encircled around them like a protective shield, or perhaps a cage would be the more suitable word since it was Hisoka.