simply diminished: a phantom troupe story

false goals

As soon as the door to the elevator had opened, the strange man vanished. I shrugged and dug the map out of my back pocket, trying to recall where the food court was. I ventured around the building for quite a while before I found my destination. By the time I ordered my food, it was around noon ,and luckily I managed to find an open table to sit at. Giant floods of people were rushing by: contestants, tourists, workers, and solicitors were filling the area as they were preparing for the next fight. I collected my trash and disposed of it, a small flash of white catching my attention. The boy from the match I watched on TV, Killua, was standing beside the soda machine, slipping a few coins in as he kept his other hand slumped in his pocket. I approached him and adjusted the map in my hands as I spoke. "Your match earlier was pretty incredible. Killua, was it?"

The snow-white haired boy didn't even turn to face me as he responded. "Yeah." He began to turn away but I stopped him with another question.

"You seem pretty talented- so why is it you're only on the 40th floor?"

He turned back to look at me, clutching his soda bottle and still keeping his opposite hand in his pocket.

"Why...well I wanted to stay on the same level as my friend. But even so, I'm not sure that I came here to win."

"I don't understand. Why did you come here then?"

Killua sighed and nodded his head forward.

"Walk with me."

Shocked by the boys request, I shoved my map back into my pocket and l broke into a jog light enough to catch up with him.

"Usually I don't enjoy talking to other people." He murmured, "But there's something weird about you..."

"Um- thanks? I could say the same about you to tell the truth."

"Yeah, I get that one a lot."

And as we walked around the building, Killua filled me in on his backstory, his journey with Gon, and what they were trying to accomplish. I learned that he was the 3rd transmuter in the infamous Zoldyck family, enduring training and murderous techniques since he was just a toddler. I learned that he met his best friend, Gon, at the hunter exam. For a second my mind flashed back to when I was around six, when my chamber was infiltrated with people who vowed to be my "saviors." 

(tw)

I sat in the corner of my closet-sized chamber, the sound of the chains rustling and scaping against each other echoed in the dark room. The restraints irritating the skin around my wrists and ankles as I blew the tangled, greasy hair out of my eyes. It was all too familiar. I slumped against the wall as a stabbing pain weaved through my stomach- I had not eaten for days. The sharp outline of my rib cage could be seen sticking out from my pale and bruised body, my legs so this and stickly that they resembled toothpicks. The taste of blood began to fill in my mouth and I choked, coughing up a thick black bile. Suddenly, I heard the deep voice of a man yelling outside the exit as several bangs were issued in effort of opening the door. Eventually, they had broken through the wall- but there wasn't time for a reluctant cheer. Several men and a couple women scrambled over to my nearly lifeless body, breaking off the rusted chains with no effort. One of the women began to take my hand, and I tried to warn her. I really did.

"No- don't-" I sputtered, attempting to pull my hand away. But I was too weak.

"You're going to be o- AH-" The smell of rotting flesh began to grow as the hand that hand connected with mine began to peel off, melting layers of skin as her hand dissolved into a hot red liquid. Her eyes flooded with terror and I'll never be able to forget her blood curdling screams. She pulled her hand back and buried the remaining stump of her arm in her coat. "YOU- YOU MONSTER-"

After that, no one had attempted to save me again. I spent six more years of my life tied up and starved, wishing that my life could be taken, wishing that I wasn't such a monster.

I reprimanded myself as I snapped back into reality; not all hunters are like that. Right?

We managed to keep the conversation going for about another half an hour. Killua had talked about their journey here, and that their goal was only to get stronger and make money while doing it.

"Is there any reason you're trying to get stronger?" I asked, struggling to keep up with the boys fast pace. We had left the building some time ago and were now walking in the city. The building towered over us and the street lamps glistened in the fading dusk. 

"I suppose it's different for each of us. I'd like to defeat my brother one day. And Gon's trying to find his dad." Killua replied, his face illuminated by the colored street lights.

"Yeah, those are some pretty big goals." I muttered, tucking a thin black piece of hair behind my ear.

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you here?"

"To be fair, I've never really thought about it. I guess I just wound up here."

"You don't have any goals?"

"Well I guess I'd like to get stronger."

"Hm." Killua turned to face me and his icy blue eyes were squinted, almost as if he was looking for something. "But what are you living for?"

"I-" I expected the words to flow out effortlessly. But they didn't. Because I didn't know the answer. "I don't know." I concluded, stifling out a nervous chuckle.

"I suppose that's why you're here then." Killua was looking up at the star-speckled sky and he pulled his mouth into a slight smile. "To find your purpose."