Quasar's barely had time to think of her next move before a voice broke through the foggy silence.
"I just... I just can't do it..." She turned to see the shirtless man emerging from the mist, a wooden stick clutched in his hand, his face determined. He took a steadying breath, eyes narrowing as he looked directly at #44.
"This may not be my fight," he said, his voice resolved, "but I won't close my eyes and make a break for it!"
Quasar's eyes widened, surprise flooding her as she watched him step forward. She'd thought he'd fled for good, but here he was, shoulders squared, his stance radiating an unexpected bravery.
The jester's smirk seemed to widen with each passing second, his head cocking, a twisted amusement lighting his eyes. "Mm, I adore that look on your face," he murmured, his voice laced with delight, as though savoring the man's fear and defiance.
The shirtless man let out a yell and charged forward, swinging his makeshift weapon with everything he had. But just as the stick cut through the air toward the jester, his figure dissolved into mist, an afterimage lingering where he'd stood. The shirtless man stumbled, his swing landing in empty air.
Quasar's heart leaped as she spotted the jester materializing behind the man, his hand already poised to strike. She didn't have time to think. She lunged forward, instinct guiding her as she threw herself between them, her arm blocking the jester's attack at the last possible second.
The impact rattled her bones, but she held her ground, her gaze locked with his as she forced herself to breathe evenly. His eyes flicked to hers, a gleam of interest lighting them.
Without hesitation, Quasar pushed off, leaping backward to put distance between them. Her breath came in quick bursts as she landed a few feet away, her muscles tensed, ready for whatever would come next. The jester's smirk only widened, a spark of exhilaration flashing in his eyes.
From the corner of her vision, she caught movement—a figure approaching through the fog. She recognized the spiky greenish-black hair from earlier in the exam; it was the kid she'd seen racing ahead on the staircase. He approached, his expression focused and serious.
The kid looked between Quasar, the shirtless man, and the jester, a flicker of understanding flashing across his face. He adjusted his stance, squaring his shoulders in a way that suggested he was ready to join them.
The jester's gaze slid toward the kid, his smirk widening. "Oh, how charming," he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement and something else. "A group effort. I'm getting excited now."
Quasar braced herself, feeling the weight of the moment settle as the three of them faced off against the jester. She tightened her grip on her sleeves, her pulse thrumming with both fear and determination. They were outmatched, and she knew it. But with the kid's unexpected arrival, maybe—just maybe—they stood a chance.
The fog settled thickly around them as Quasar, the shirtless man, and the greenish-black-haired kid faced off against the jester. His smirk stretched wider as he looked at each of them, his eyes gleaming with a twisted thrill.
Without warning, the kid was the first to strike. He whipped his fishing rod overhead, the line unfurling before he launched the lure toward the jester's face. He dodged effortlessly, leaning slightly to the side as the lure flew past him. But his amusement didn't falter; he was savoring every second.
Quasar took the distraction as an opening.
She lunged forward, fists clenched, aiming a punch directly at his ribs. But the jester moved with unsettling speed, catching her wrist mid-swing and twisting it just enough to force her off balance. With his other hand, he shoved her backward, sending her stumbling.
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ECHOES BEYOND THE DOOR || Hisoka X OC
Fanfiction|| MATURE CONTENT || "Careful now...A game's only fun when the pieces survive long enough to bleed." Caught between life and death, she awakens in a realm of endless doors, each one a path into the unknown. Drawn to one, she steps through and finds...
