𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐄 | ʰˣʰ

chapter x.

DOES THE number 333 really signify luck?

A few seconds ago, you sat perched high on a thick branch, so far up you would be able to tell if someone were to climb the tree anyway. And to avoid that, your Zetsu was activated. You could've made it to the end of the phase with no more altercations. Never mind that the wind was even more brutal up here without the thickness of the lower woods to soften it, of course.

Your own badge was pocketed away along with your target's badge, you were clear of the main requirement of this Phase of the Exam, and you were thankful you did not choose the tree in the middle of the clearing as your resting place, because someone had just chopped it down.

And still you minded your own business, willfully brushing off the mostly-unintelligible bits of heated conversation drifting up from below, instead of indulging in drama. Perhaps the treasure I found along the way was self-improvement—

No, the wind was just too loud.

So instead you took inventory of your extra points: two. One from the monkey guy, and then the badge 371 from someone you encountered earlier on your way to this resting place.

This was a man with a headband across his forehead and drooping brows that imposed upon him a sad affect on default. When he had challenged you to a fight, he had seemed honorable and determined, but in the way a small child acts in the face of embarrassing himself in front of his friends.

Taking your weaker-looking build as an indication that you were a target, he had challenged you. Of course, you won— You hadn't even drawn blood this time. You should pat yourself on the back for this. Go, you! The violence of the other examinees has not corrupted you yet.

You were just turning to shove these four badges back into your bag, before the howling wind decided to numb your fingers so much so the badges might fall through them.

Then, suddenly, an applicant badge, as if bestowed with a blessing from the god of wind, slammed you in the back of the head like a tennis ball.

Who the fuck is out here throwing these tags like it's a sport? And how come they managed a headshot? Jesus.

They could've at least kept the extra points, but more for you, you guess. Lucky there, but not so much for the dull throb in your head where the tag hit.

You look down, turning the badge over in your hand. It's the number 197.

So it's nine points now.

Three extra points, up to three more competitors cut out before the final phase of the Exam.

Before you can turn again to your bag to drop in the 197 badge, several small crunches sound. A volley of familiar sphere-headed pins embed themselves right under your branch.

Ah, so this turned out to be unlucky. When the badge hit, your Zetsu must have flickered. Your guard was down.

For someone as highly skilled in nen usage and combat as Gittarackur, it's no surprise that he found your hiding spot immediately, although your momentary exposure should not have been enough to identify you from such a distance.

That's probably why he's targeting you.

Pain in the goddamn ass.

You shove the 197 badge between your teeth, biting down and slinging the backpack over your shoulder (You can't taste anything very well anymore, but this definitely tastes like shit).

Your nen, as if on instinct, fortifies your legs, contained by Zetsu but magnified still by contained concentration. You shift against the trunk of the tree and move into a squat, bringing yourself to a precarious balance upon the branch.