——— The Magician's Apprentice ————

“Hey, Master Wing?”

“Yes?”

“Who's that?”

You point to the screen in the middle of the crowded corridor. Everyone is jostling with each other to get a good look at the tall muscular man with fiery red hair in standing the center of the arena.

The man is decked out in garish clothing, his face adorned with a colourful star and teardrop.

The man you call Wing frowns, and pushes his glasses higher up his nose.

“That’s Hisoka.”

You both watch as he throws a cloth into the air, and it disappears.

In its place, a deck of bloodstained cards rain down from thin air.

“You’d best steer clear from him. It’s still far too early for you to be tangled up in a fight with him.”

“Why?”

You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the magician.

It’s clear that he’s experienced, and judging from the way he’s toying cruelly with his opponent, utterly ruthless. Yet somehow, you find yourself wanting to know more about him.

This curious enigma of a man.

“Trust me. At this stage, a battle with him would be like walking into the lion’s den.” Your master replies darkly. “And you’re a defenceless lamb.”

Reluctantly, you tear your eyes away from the screen and follow Wing back to your room.

One day, he will be your opponent.

——————————

“And the winner is... Hisoka!”

Announcer declares to an uproar of cheers and applause from the crowd. You watch the screen absently and can’t help but narrow your eyes at the redheaded magician. That’s the 8th win he’s had so far.

You’re currently seated at the quaint bar on the 200th floor, having finished your own fight just a few hours earlier. Your opponent had been easy enough to deal with, a cocky young teen who had just made it onto the 200th floor and recklessly challenged anyone in his sight.

He had singled you out, poking fun at your small stature and unassuming aura. You smile to yourself, remembering his rather public challenge to you. The fight ended with him being carried out on a stretcher, whimpering loudly on account of a few broken ribs.

Sipping your cocktail, you watch Hisoka’s opponent facing a similar fate, as the camera pans to the motionless body being lifted onto a stretcher. Unlike your own opponent, however, it became evident that this man was dead, as the medics pulled a white sheet over his entire body.

It has been nearly 6 months since you’ve started your arduous climb here at Heaven’s Arena. And this whole time, a day hasn’t gone by in which Hisoka had not made headlines for his incredible fights. By incredible, you mean downright terrifying; there is always bloodshed,

and there is always a corpse at the end of it. And Hisoka? He walks out, unscathed. Sometimes he bleeds, but even that is part of his elaborate plan; fights here bore him, and sometimes a severed limb or two kicks up the adrenaline a couple of notches.

You’ve watched him enough to tell that he’s never using his full strength. Of course, your main goal had been to practice your newfound Nen abilities, but upon your arrival here, Hisoka had certainly been another main attraction. In spite of your master’s countless warnings, and

knowing full well that fighting Hisoka might as well be equivalent to begging for a death sentence, you can't help but secretly yearn for a fight with him. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder involuntarily.

Despite Master Wing’s explicit instructions not to engage with Hisoka, you’ve encountered him several times during your stay at Heaven’s Arena, and you find it difficult to describe your experience with him. He evokes a curious mixture of emotions within you, a strange concoction

of terror, intrigue and most embarrassing and confusing of all, lust. The way he carries himself, the way he analyses his opponents and breaks them down to nothing, it’s clear he relishes in every single moment of his fights.

You somehow get the feeling that he seems to know when you’re looking at him. Often, catch him staring at you too. You can always feel his piercing eyes on you, and when you turn to meet him, he holds your gaze. You’re always the first to look away.

He’s a terrifying being, but for some reason, you just can’t seem to keep away. Even now, you watch as he descends the stage and moves off screen.

“Next up we have Hanzo versus...”

The announcer’s voice fades and you swirl the remnants of your glass, frowning slightly.

The fruity cocktail in question is a little too sweet for your taste. As you tilt the glass and pour the remaining pink liquid down your throat, you hear the tinkling of a bell as the door to the bar opens.

In walks a tall, muscular man with a head of fiery red hair.

His hair is teased up in a gravity-defying updo and he’s wearing his usual outfit, a sleeveless cropped top and puffy pants, adorn with the suits symbols. The mellow atmosphere in the bar changes drastically, and the air solidifies with tension.

The bar is not crowded, but the murmured conversations have ceased as other patrons fall deathly silent, well-aware of the newcomer in the room. You stiffen slightly. Nobody else in the room moves.

Hisoka walks up to the bar, his heels making deliberate clicks on the dark marble floor as he struts. He stops at the counter, sliding into the seat next to you. You feel his eyes trained on you, and you fight the urge to look back. You take a deep breath, and stand up to leave.

“Leaving so soon?”

At his words, your entire body freezes. Is he talking to you? You don’t need to look to know that nobody else in the room has moved a muscle since Hisoka arrived, but you cast a furtive glance around anyway.

“Yes, you.”

His words drip with condescension and a hint of amusement. You force yourself to turn around and face him. Even after his match, his makeup is still flawless, the classic star and teardrop on each cheek remain distinct and intact, and you find yourself staring into

his piercing golden yellow eyes. He raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“I’ve finished my drink, so yes. I’m leaving.” You reply in a measured tone.

Hisoka gives you a once-over, his eyes trail down the length of your body and you can see the gears turning in his head.

Suddenly, you feel incredibly self-conscious about the dress you’ve chosen tonight. Though slightly nervous, you look him dead in the eye, determined to figure out what he could be up to. He breaks eye contact first and glances at the bartender.

“Two martinis.”

“See you around, Hisoka.” You turn to leave.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Something in his voice makes you turn around, and there in his hand is a key card. It looks like the key card to one of the hotel rooms in the Arena. Wait a minute. You pat your pockets frantically.

It’s YOUR key card.

“Wait— How---”

Your eyes widen, utterly disarmed by the magician seated before you, presently twirling your room card between his long fingers. You could have sworn you had it with you just a few moments ago. When had he swiped it?

He hadn’t even touched you. Then it clicked. You redirect your Nen to your eyes and use Gyo to confirm your suspicions, eyeing the string of light pink Bungee Gum attached to your card. He notices your actions, and grins knowingly.

The bartender places the martinis on the counter and Hisoka nods to one of them. You pretend to have a seat, then make a bold swipe for the card, knocking both martinis over in the process. Hisoka is already a step ahead of you, leaning away and holding the card in

his outstretched arm, far away from you.

“Oh? Do you really want to cause a scene?”

Hisoka’s whisper in your ear sends shivers down your spine and you come to the realisation that in your bid to retrieve your card, you’re dangerously close to him,

your face just inches away from his. You glance at the spilled drinks.

“Return my card and I won’t have to.” You retort, with as much poison and defiance as you can muster. It’s difficult to manage with Hisoka’s face so close to yours.

Hisoka feigns annoyance, his expression akin to one a child might make when things are not going their way.

“Fiesty. That's good." He wets his lips. "Shall I propose a deal of sorts?”

A deck of cards materializes from seemingly mid-air and he begins to shuffle them expertly.

“I’ve disguised your room card as one of these poker cards. If you can correctly guess which card is yours, you can have it back. Otherwise,” he continues shuffling, his golden yellow eyes drilling into yours. “I’ll be keeping it.”

You pause for a moment, contemplating. There’s bound to be a trick somewhere. There’s no way you will be able to pick the correct one just like that, Hisoka will see to that for sure. You squint up at him with narrowed eyes, trying to see through his deceit.

He merely smiles back good-naturedly. You use Gyo again, trying your luck again to see if you can detect which of the cards has been tampered with. It’s very faint, but you can make out the outline of aura surrounding one of the cards. You squint hard. Yes, that’s definitely it.

“This one.” You pluck the card from the middle. Hisoka chuckles and shakes his head.

“Wrong answer.” He reaches behind your ear, lightly caressing your cheek as he does, and pulls out your room card.

“That’s cheating!”

You protest, making another futile grab at the card, which has suddenly disappeared again.

“A deal’s a deal.” Hisoka grins and stands up, holding out his hand to you.

You grimace and roll your eyes, purposefully ignoring Hisoka’s open hand, as you hop down from the counter.

You try to leave, but all of a sudden, you feel your arms pressed against your body and you’re inexplicably pulled backwards by some unknown force. As you collide into a muscular chest, you realise what has happened.

“Hisoka,” you snarl in a warning tone. Your heart is pounding and you just know Hisoka can feel it too, your back being pressed so tightly against his chest.

“You don’t get to run until I tell you to.”

Something about his words makes you shiver. Hisoka smirks, easily sliding an arm around your waist.

With that, he struts out the bar, with you in tow.

——————————