floor burns | hxh

i. SAMSARA

サムサラ

Title: Floor Burns

Story Context: This story takes place about 13 years before the original HXH timeline of the Hunter exam begins. Please use your imagination!

Summary: young little girls aren't supposed know so much of the wicked, and yet, she was never a young little girl to begin with.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Yoshihiro Togashi except for my oc, Sakiko.

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Staring at the wall, her hands glide across the smooth texture, occasionally running over rough bumps and jagged edges. It's silent in the room and the curtains cover the windows, secured tightly though untouched. A golden hue is the only light that blankets the room and it flickers once. And then again, but this time the yellow bulb completely shuts down and black shadows envelop the room. There is no coincidence. The bulb had burned out, but wasn't it replaced yesterday?

(She doesn't know how long she's been in this room.)

But if there's one thing she's sure of, it's that she's not supposed to be alive. She is not supposed to exist. But somehow she has made it, creating herself in a world that does not need her. She knows that she was born out of lust and desperation and now lives in the haze of sinking relief and immediate sadness. She doesn't really know how or why, but that's okay.

Her father is absent as always, but he does not leave her alone for too long, because he knows she can't survive without him. She can't do anything for herself, and it frustrates her to no end. Too many questions and not enough answers when she thinks about this situation.

Never staying in one area for too long, it's too much for her when they're constantly moving from a hotel room to the other. He's not fit to be a father, but he is one. Mistakes, she muses, will always be compensated.

He's tall and muscularly built, and his narrow cheeks and sensual eyes can break many hearts. A prodigy in everything he puts his mind to. Essentially he has the potential to be the best in anything he desires. It's just too bad that he's not a man with good morals. His strange clothing matches him perfectly too, peculiar and eerily playful. She doesn't understand the way he acts, or the way he thinks, but she still cares about him all the same.

Sometimes he will come home in the middle of the night giggling manically with eyes full of satisfaction and deceit. Those nights he has a metallic smell of dirt and something else she doesn't know. Those nights he ignores her, and that's probably for the best, as it makes her tremble, scared. Even when her stomach is twisting with hunger and starving for water, or when she soils herself and her diaper is filled uncomfortably, she's quiet in fear that he'll do something to her. She doesn't want to know what that smell is every time he comes home. (It's blood.)

He calls himself Hisoka.

And Sakiko doesn't have a mother. She doesn't understand how she knows what that is, but it's not like that matters. (Dazedly she thinks of a stern and kind woman with dyed curly hair and scowling lips turning into a hidden smile.)

But she only has an absent father, and herself. It's not so bad now that she's able to wander around and take care of herself somewhat, but there are those moments where her father stares at her emptily and his gaze feels menacing. It's as if he's looking at an extraterrestrial being, and maybe he is. He's always telling her how a six month year old shouldn't be able to walk.