Chuu still couldn’t believe it. 

She woke up thinking the whole meeting with HeeJin and an exchange that occurred between her and that shinobi was just a weird dream. But no. There she was, groggily waking Chuu up for her half of the nightwatch.

HeeJin grumbled something that might’ve meant it was redhead’s turn to stand guard (or it could’ve been her polite way of swearing, who knew?) and curled on the ground, backpack under her head, protectively clutching her sable’s dirtied sheath to the chest.

Earlier, after HeeJin got her ticket to the last phase, as they wandered about, Chuu asked the girl to demonstrate her skill. Although HeeJin’s shadowboxing (shadowswording?) attacks were rather slow by the Chuu’s standards, the girl’s movements were precise, familiar and graceful. Like, extremely graceful. Any more and her motions would have been unusable in real life. If Chuu had to guess - and she was not the best at this, Yves and Go Won’s were both better in analysis than her - HeeJin was able to get a chance to learn the art of swordsmanship by posing it as a hobbyist skill or something like that, and not an actually useful one. But why sable of all weapons?..

While she was on topic of hobbies - she did not miss HeeJin’s internal excitement as soon as the shinobi came forth. It felt almost like nerding out. There was no way to ask on that inconspicuously so in the pile of buried questions it went. Maybe it would sprout into something later.

Instead, Chuu threw herself into a self-imposed mission - to teach HeeJin some useful basic skills or, at least, kickstart them. She probably went a bit rudely about it, sure, but there were only so many branches left to catch on the girl’s clothes and untouched forest floor to be overtly marred by her tracks.

So Chuu went with the very needed stealth introduction and three-dimensional navigation. 

Before HeeJin could put her foot down on the training schedule she was pushed into, Chuu made her bring it higher, along with her arms, and climb the tree she was suddenly close to. She was taking absolutely no complaints on her volunteered tutoring.

And, as expected, the girl's room for improvement was luxuriously spacious.

She half-expected HeeJin to fall asleep during her watch from exhaustion, to be honest.

But do not worry, dear friend. Tomorrow, there will be more gifts of wisdom from where the previous ones came from.

Chuu took out her embroidery kit, a ribbon she was working on and zoned out the passing of time with a warm ticklish sensation in her chest. She looked forward to the next day.

---

Humming a happy tune, Choerry twisted metal and locked the chains. Her last target had two badges! She didn’t need both, but hooray - she was finally done! 

Even with the laziest of paces, she overdid the assignment and managed to exhaust almost all of the chain's stock - JinSoul would surely thank her for finally clearing some space in her storage cabin later. It was specifically Choerry’s, but JinSoul always somehow managed to run out of space when stocking up on rare stops in the ports.

In the past days, the purplehead found tagless examinees several times, but never went beyond initial knocking out. They wouldn’t be getting any revenge on her anyway, and while the metal coils she looted were long, they were not limitless. 

However - she no longer had to worry about that!

Aah, this day couldn’t get any better...

In a couple hours, the day brought forth a surprise.

From her perch on the top of the tree, where she aimlessly searched for anything fun below, Choerry spotted two familiar figures some distance away, animatedly conversing with each other as they made their way through the forest. A tall brown-haired in a suit and a shorter blond in traditional clothes.

Looking through a ring made with a thumb and index finger, she saw them both clearly - two teenagers seemed unharmed and with intact determination. The boys walked together in one direction arguing over something in hushed tones. It seemed serious.

Well, pardon her if she dropped by to say hello!

Choerry descended from tree to tree, dropping right behind them, uncaring of the noise she made or the scare she might give. 

“Hello!” she sing-sang.

Leorio spun around, one hand clutching his briefcase and the other flipping a butterfly knife out of his pocket. Next to him, Kurapika whipped out from God knows where two wooden swords connected by a cord. A waster? No, it was unlikely anyone would go with just training equipment to a Hunter Exam. Kurapika was of a clan and grew in it, if she recalled correctly. A traditional weapon of theirs?..

“Hi, hi, what a pleasant surprise! How are you guys doing? Alive and friendly, I see!”

“Choerry,” greeted Kurapika, not lowering his weapons.

“Ts. Did you need to scare us like this?” grumbled Leorio, slumping as he sighed the tension out. He huffed under his nose as the knife got covered and put back in the pocket.

“Leorio,” warned Kurapika, hissing to his friend’s side. “Do you mind? You might be in the clear, but she might be after me. Don’t let your guard down!”

“Ah. Are you?” Leorio squinted at her with weak suspicion - was he debating if what she said on the boat was true?

It would’ve been better for him to demand to show the plate with her target’s - Kurapika’s - number, but his first steps to doubt were an improvement nonetheless.

“Naur,” drawled Choerry, digging out her tags. Closing her eyes in satiation, she fanned hers and three others in her hand, the fourth hidden behind them for a moment. After a second, she revealed it as she opened one eye in a mischievous frozen wink. “I am all finished already!”

Leorio’s shoulders dropped even lower than before. “Way to rub it in our faces.”

Choerry laughed in good spirits. “And how are your tallies?”

Kurapika, witnessing her completion, put away his weapon and approached, taking her in from head to toe, evaluating. “That’s surprising. I thought you’d be able to collect your target’s tag.”

“Eh, it didn’t work out,” rolled her shoulder Choerry, putting the tags away and also coming closer, the three of them standing within a nice, friendly conversation distance. “There were some complications I didn’t want to mess with.”

“Hmm,” Kurapika accepted that with a slow nod. “I am done as well. Leorio here,” the boy motioned, “is looking for his target, I am helping him.”

“Ponzu,” nodded Choery, recalling their talk before.

“Yeah,” sighed Leorio. “I confirmed your information with Tonpa,” his tone dipped into revolution at the name, “but we still haven’t been able to find her. We’ve been at it for almost three days now!”

Choerry gave a non-committal hum. 

“At this point, she might be already dead,” said Kurapika. “Or be without her tag. Leorio chose to continue searching, so we will see what we can do.”

She tapped her chin, scrutinizing the taller teenager. Their talks at the bottom of the Trick Tower.

Leorio aspired to become a doctor.

The interesting thing about hatsus and the world of nen-users operated in, was that it was where personalities bloomed in the rawest in most honest of ways. Where your being went to reach culmination and not die, preferably, to touch the sky and grab the wished star. And - boy howdy - were there a lot of ways to die.

It resulted in the majority developing action-ready abilities, not necessarily focused on combat, but allowing an edge or a help in some convoluted way as well as other purpose. Hers was purely utilitarian that had absolutely no uses in a fight - a relatively rare choice. 

Not as rare as someone choosing medical ability, though.

Of course, there was no guarantee Leorio would develop a healing hatsu. Or be able to develop hatsu at all. But! Leorio was going to be a doctor. By his own choice, out of the goodness of his heart!

An amazingly rare thing!

Not only was it commendable and sweet, Choerry also was very interested in getting such a person in her good graces.

“Say what,” decided Choerry, shoving her hand back into backpack. “I don’t need this one. You can have it just in case.”

Leorio was positively gaping at the extra tag she held out to him.

“Really? You are fine with giving it to me?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t like it dug into her own points.

Leorio’s face lit as if he saw the sun. “Thank-”

Kurapika’s hand settled on hers and gently but resolutely pushed it back, finishing the sentence. “-you, but no.”

Leorio snapped his head towards his friend, mouth agape and inhaling to voice his protests, but was cut off by Kurapika mirroring him, brows knitted together. “Think, Leorio! We also had an extra tag! And it saved our lives not even a day ago!”

“Oh,” said Leorio. “Right. But we can meet up later just in case…”

“No buts!” Kurapika pushed the tag at her even further, against Leorio’s longing gaze. “Choerry has no guarantee she won’t run into Hisoka after .”

She felt a cough stuck in . “Hisoka?” Choerry laughed nervously. “What about him?”

“He approached us at night,” sourly conceded Leorio, looking away from the tag and shoving hands in his pockets. “Kurapika was able to barter a one-pointer for letting us go… Haah.” He a breath through his teeth. “He’s right.” Leorio locked eyes with her. “You might need it to trade with that psychopath too. I. Can’t accept your gift.”

Kurapika let go of the tag and Choerry nodded, looking back and forth between them. “I see... Well. You’re right.” She hummed and hid the tag away. “That sounds like an experience, but one I’d like to avoid.” 

JinSoul would’ve been so proud of the lack of any sarcasm in her voice.

The blond nodded.

But there was one thing, though. Namely, that they were able to open their mouths to bargain at all.

“When Hisoka confronted you… Did he feel oppressive?”

“He is a one of a kind creep,” huffed Leorio. “When is a bloodthirsty peril not oppressive?”

It seemed he didn’t.

“Weird,” said Choerry quietly, crossing arms.

When faced with an overpowering bloodlusty aura that wanted you dead in the worst way possible and one didn’t know how to block, there was no space for jokes or barter . She spoke from her own experience.

And it was not about Hisoka.

Her friend had the weirdest colleagues.

And if her instincts were right, Hisoka was really close to snapping back on that clearing. However, he wasn’t ticked off by her sudden appearance. Her, one of the best options for a fight here. Given his lurking hunger when she met his eyes on that clearing…

Hisoka let her get away. There was a purpose .

“This gives me bad vibes,” admitted Choerry. With a sigh, she let her arms fall by her sides. “But there is nothing to be done at the moment! See you two at the finish line, Leorio, Kurapika.”

“You too,” agreed Kurapika. 

Leorio nodded by his side. “Be careful.” 

Serious expression suited Leorio more than a clueless goof one. He should practise that one more. 

Choerry waved at them as she left the boys solemn-faced and quiet. 

After getting out of their line of sight, she got back on the trees. After a moment of consideration, Zetsu shrowded her figure, hiding from any cursory glances.

If Hisoka was literally anybody else, Choerry would have simply confronted him.

By god - anyone. She would've taken any other option on this island. 

---

Fish was sizzling over bright, scorching coals, its fat dripping down and sending sparks up. It smelled and looked rather delicious, against the knowledge that there was no spices or salt on it.

Chuu grimaced.

Recalling both of their cooking skills from the second phase, neither of them could really lobby any serious complaints regarding that.

Moreover, HeeJin was staring at their meal hungrily - Chuu used the nearby stream as a perfect opportunity to teach her how to catch fist with bare hands, and nothing fired up the appetite as a delayed and constantly escaping food.

As a just teacher, she wasn’t going to offer any concessions only because there was a pouty pretty face staring at her. Chuu was above that. And so, HeeJin was forced to keep trying until she finally got one.

It took a while.

The appetite had outgrown the girl’s patience for sure by this point.

Nothing to worry, HeeJin - deserved dinner was bound to feel better in company!

“This is much more to my taste,” confessed Chuu to HeeJin, who had her eyes locked on the sizzling meal. “I rarely travel by myself. It is always me and my two friends, and only one of which can cook. So I am much more used to sharing food with someone else.”

HeeJin quietly hummed. “It has been a while since I had hand-grilled dinner in a company with somebody else,” she shared. “The last time I did, it was a villager who allowed me to share his wagon in his travels. He was moving after one of his sons died to live with the other, if I remember correctly?.. It was November.” HeeJin huffed at the memory. “And I wasn’t the one who was responsible for making sure it was edible.”

“Was it? Edible, I mean.”

“Yeah.” HeeJin sent her a coy smile. “If a bit undercooked. But I never told you that.”

“Never,” agreed Chuu and took her fish on the stick, inspecting it. Seemed ready. “Good appetit.”

“Bon appetit,” echoed HeeJin and dug into her own meal.

Shared silence was akin to a still-warm but no longer scorching tea - lovely, cozy, and just what one needed. Chuu felt the comfort spread to her limbs and warm her from the inside, the sort she longed for since she parted with Yves and Go Won. 

HeeJin’s signal overlapped with hers, both content and almost humming with safety.

“This is nice,” voiced HeeJin.

“It is,” Chuu cranked one eye open at the girl. “Not so nervous with a full score and stomach, are you?”

HeeJin laughed. “Few could be. I could try, if you want?”

“Nah. It is nice to see you so?..”

“Jelly-like?”

“Sure.” Chuu fell on her back, eyes closed, and listened to the relaxing crackling of coals.

She let her heartbeats echo through her chest and into her mind, all the signals safe and accounted for, getting ready to head off to sleep or already sleeping, all going to beds with food in their stomachs. 

It was peaceful.

…While it lasted for a dozen minutes.

HeeJin, while you offered, there was truly no need to bring your noisy hive of thoughts back. Really.

Oh, God have mercy!..

She pressed her eyelids tighter, awaiting.

HeeJin sighed next to her. After a minute of concentrated thinking, she opened . “Hey, Chuu.”

“Mmm?”

“Do you have any,” voice briefly pitched higher, “inspirational advice on how to escape some worry in a situation where it is uncalled for? Where I want to feel fully safe - and kinda feel? - but can’t escape some reservations anyways, despite wanting to rely and share with a person who by all logic wouldn’t have gone to the lengths they went to if they were just to. Kidnap me? And there is no reason for me not to trust them and I want to but I can’t and-”

“No, I don’t have any speeches prepared for that.” It wasn’t like she was the least suiting person to seek guidance on that problem either. With a pang of bitterness, she rolled to the side, resting head on the outstretched arm, and locked eyes with HeeJin. “It is wise to not trust me fully. I am not completely open with you either, you know? There are secrets I hold close to my chest, there are not-so secrets that I am not too keen on broadcasting to the world. There are widely known facts in rather tight circles that I do not hide and live with in my daily life -however I am intent on hiding them from you. That doesn’t mean I am hostile or indifferent - I have faith in you and like your company. A ton. But! I do not trust you to defend those bits of information or to still see me in the same way after learning them. Or - there are secrets that are dangerous to you. To know them, even if you never even think of revealing them, they still might lead you to danger, in one way or another.” Chuu waved vaguely at HeeJin’s sitting form. “In any way, I already gathered some things about you by observation. Don’t feel any pressure to reveal any more or to lay your trust to my feet with a bow on the side.”

HeeJin looked away, half-nodding. “I know. I know that, but I still feel this. Need? To share about my life, about who I am? Both as to get to know each other and let you know me. This,” she patted her chest above her heart, looking concerned, “who I am now, who got to here and to this moment, who never showed such a daring face to anyone before, nor told her dreams, never let myself be known. And you - you stayed by me! Greeted me and checked on me. Placed belief in my abilities so effortlessly high, like nobody, ever done before.” HeeJin’s tone wobbled for a second. “I trust you. But I am a coward who knows better than to confide in my fidelities and deepest secrets all too well all the same.”

Chuu rolled on her back and put hands behind her head.

Stars and precious few satellites twinkled above them. Coals slowly grew quieter and gentler, waves of heat in them rolling fiery shades in them.

Their observers were far enough.

Yves was sleeping and cuddled in warmth. Chuu listened to the distant feeling, letting it cover her surroundings in the veil of closeness and knowledge that Yves was here, Yves was alright, Yves told her to make new friends.

“When I was five,” said quietly Chuu, watching the stars, “I got stolen from my parents.”

She heard HeeJin gasping and snapping her head at her, but paid it no mind.

Nothing but her, clear sky, and distant hum of Yves’ mark.

“There are many children who go missing. More than any projectors in the underground display or advertisement boards. More than ever get accounted for officially. And you don’t want to know how many are ever recovered if you want to sleep soundly at night.

“I was handed further and further, exchange after exchange, never even hearing what my life was used to pay for. I remember finally being fed and cleaned. I was meant to unwind, perhaps, but there was only dread, being checked by a professionally cold doctor in a sterile room. There were new simple clothes and footwear given to me by a smiling elderly woman. She had one of these faces, you know, that always seemed gentle, even without intention. Later I learned how she wore that expression... I was ushered into a hall with dozens of other children wearing the same clothes. All of us were confused and scared and so very young.

“I became enrolled - became a child soldier. For those who pay.

“My lifestory is far from unique, for the most part - many other died from our year, but there was always the previous one, and the next after our's too. There are also other branches under the same… jurisdiction. There are other organizations who train folks for hire and have no association with our authorities. I heard of countries who use orphans for molding perfect spies - never encountered one in real life though. Probably they just have too few tells to spot one... The weirdest organization that I know for sure exists builds all their bases underwater, you can’t find it without knowing the locations beforehand. Quite the security. No escape from that one either. An underwater prison,” huffed humorlessly Chuu.

“From one runaway to another - not being able to easily open up is a part of the package. But that isn’t the worst that could happen, believe me on that. ...And not the biggest deterrent of befriending someone.” Chuu’s inhale was more of a gulp, but she pushed past it, ignoring the chokehold of emotions she was being pushed in. “There was once someone who used to feel a part of me. She is no longer… By now, I was supposed to overcome, but it impacts other pieces of me in a way that makes it nigh impossible to tune out, which is stupid, there was no other choice! I feel like clutching my heart in a fist and gripping it tighter and tighter until it stops rattling everywhere I go. I carry it but I don’t want to, it is useless and helps no-one, and would only be lighter if it was made of lead. How can I trust a stranger when I don't trust parts of myself?

“There is baggage I might never be able to ditch. It will weigh me down with any new person I try to let in, kick me in the shins and burn my fingers, constantly. What if, what if, do you remember, there was a precedent before, it sings squeakily in my ear… And there are exactly two other people who could understand me to the same degree. It is something that is shameful, but necessary and carved deep inside us, away from everybody and it rots before it dies with us, a gruesome, wise, horrible choice.” Chuu outstretched her arm and waved in front of her, as if trying to keep the stars away or, at least, mix them with the darkness of the sky. Her forearm helplessly fell across her face, blocking the light out. Her voice have become quiter and wetter than she dared to acknowledge. “There are things I am most afraid to be honest about about to myself, even more than admitting them to someone else. I can lie, I can kill, but I might never be able to confess the single weakest thought I carry on the bottom of my heart, the face of my cowardice and a traitor to my friends’ spirit.”

She even never said all of this to them. Only now, to a person so distant from it all, who would never even get to meet Wolf. 

Neither would she, anymore.

Chuu closed her eyes and willed her tears to stop. They pushed past her shaking mind and silently, imperceptibly soaked through her knitted gloves, to the winding of the embroidered ribbon, and it was almost easier, as if someone else was bleeding and not her.

The conversation, that was resembling a confession way too much, fell into silence. Night creatures rustled and mixed their sound with the leaves and wind, painting a distant landscape of her surroundings, a portrait of the world around her. There was nobody around them. If paying attention, one could hear faraway waves beating against rocky cliffs. It was late. Why was she putting her thoughts, so and intimate, it might rival a bare skeleton, out to a weak girl to hear, again?

That weak girl didn’t know and rubbed her glove over eyes, getting the last of the tears out.

“We both are lonely and scared, it seems,” said HeeJin so quietly, Chuu could have pretended to not hear. She could have ignored that apt reflection. 

She let out a sound that should have been a laugh. HeeJin's emotions clicked and she opened .

“I grew up in a wealthy, loving family. Filthy rich. My nanny was a bodyguard first, caretaker second. He was someone who knew the closest ‘me’ to a real thing, or could have guessed my plans without any admitions,” HeeJin’s clothes rustled and the next words were muffled. “He was the closest thing to a friend I had.

“My family wasn’t cruel to me, never would have been. They were kind, even. Even uncle and aunties, who were tiptoeing around me less than immediate relatives, - the worst they gave me was pity. 

“It might sound weird, but I was deemed defective as a kid, you know, in the mental sense. Too imaginative for my own good, doctors said. Too… prone to believing in things that weren’t there.

“It was like an intricate cage. A safe barrier for my own safety. No troubling overt truth, no connection with the world they operated and lived in. A happy kid they let grow to her heart's content, a girl who knew nothing of operations under the table and was there to show off not criminal achievements, but dancing and other skills.” HeeJin sighed. “While my siblings were encouraged in martial arts and firearm familiarity, I barely got permission to study swordfight as a self-defense over canne de combat or something similar… Was better with it than they could have expected anyway...

“It was like this well-intentioned wall that towered over me and hid all of the sharp things,” more rustling. HeeJin was animated as she tried to explain the mournful longing Chuu read through the Guardian Angel. “And yet, there still was an almost-succeeded assassination attempt. The walls were never high enough from an attack above, I guess.

“And while I was fed meal courses at home that could be rivaled only by the top-notch restaurants, coddled and laying on a feather bed of crime and bloody money, I had no choice and a life I neither choose nor could navigate and so alone and trapped.

“I couldn’t breathe there. The pity and silence and the separation and the otherness that was the whole… them! Their attitude and lives and what they saw and how they saw… It wasn't mine. I had to get away, I had to get out. No matter the price, no matter the years I needed for preparation, I paid both, fully, mindfully, patiently. I live in this all-encompasing fear ever since. What if they are right behind me? What if next time I open my eyes I will be on my way back home?”

Sending a glance at HeeJin, Chuu saw that the girl was hugging herself, eyes closed tightly on a face scrunched with desperation.

“And it is hard, so hard to move, when it is so unusual and still alien and constantly worry of being found, or having endangered others by proxi or- or how this is the only chance I could ever get at getting my life, and it is constant, it is every second, every eye contact or turned head or every chance, every flipped coin, and, and!..” HeeJin trailed down in a choked sob. 

Chuu closed her eyes, shutting out the moonlit girl. “It is too much all the time,” she said, exhausted. 

“Yeah,” croaked HeeJin. “It- It is.”

Coals were no longer warm, and the only noise coming from them was blackhead’s sniffing, desperate pushing of her worries and fears under the lid.

Compared to them, HeeJin was truly alone and powerless.

Chuu felt blindly for her camera-purposed looking bag and traced the seams inside, searching for a hidden pocket, and her fingers brushed over the hard edge of a card. There was rustling of a scrap of paper, a check or a bill, Chuu couldn’t care less, and she dug a pen picked after somebody in the airport.

With closed eyes, she wrote the corresponding phone number and password, and held it out in HeeJin’s direction.

“Here. Take it.” There was silence, as confusion stirred over the oozing wound in HeeJin’s chest, it and dawning understanding; timid hope. “Come on. I will not take it back. There must be a limit to how much you prepared or could haphazardly earn. Don’t make this awkward.”

“I can’t-“ weakly began HeeJin as Chuu made a handing over motion at her.

“You can and you will. I have more than one bank account for security and contingencies, tere are more where it came from. Take it.”

Agonizingly slowly, cogs of HeeJin’s turmoil worked and in the end, she reached out with so much reservation, Chuu would have thought she was offering a scalding piece of coal between her fingers.

The girl accepted it with bated breath, chest flooding with a sensation akin to receiving a miracle, covering the fear and lostness little by little. “Is it truly...”

“Yes. Do not even consider that my decision could change if I think again.”

HeeJin sobbed again, this time choking on entirely different emotions.

“Thank you.”

“Mmhm,” acknowledged Chuu. “Now go to sleep. I will keep the watch. Get your beauty sleep, princess.”

HeeJin half-barked a laugh, a winding pressure slowly but surely uncoiling in her core.

…she would be alright.