I run a bath of cold water and dump ice in it for my sore muscles. Most of my superficial bruises are still intact and swollen. My body feels like a balloon of pain with a needle threatening to pop it. Smooth jazz plays in the background to help calm me down. The ref's last call is still burning inside my mind, even though I'm trying not to think about it. Of all my wounds, my loss is the rawest one. I'd been waiting to be the first fighter in the arena to knock Hisoka down. Wipe that smug look off his face while also turning him on with my strength. Now that dream's ruined.

I arrived at Heaven's Arena to become a better fighter. All of my missions since becoming a hunter, tracking down beasts, criminals, retrieving lost hunters, traveling to ancient societies, have been for this purpose. Having traveled around the world, I want to find new places to challenge me.

I don't mind losing if it's to a worthy opponent on fair terms. I'm willing to learn from my weaknesses. But I haven't found anyone worthy in a long time. Most fighters at the arena are outcasts trying to make up for being bullied and ignored for so long. They come to Heaven's Arena to make names for themselves built in fear and power. The closest thing to love any of them will ever experience. It's easy to see how they feed off the crowd when I watch their fights and study their techniques.

My resolve is built on myself not others, whether crowd or opponent, though their adoration can be nice. Any mission that has the promise of increasing my fight, I take. I know what it's like to be weak and beaten and I have no intention of going back to that or allowing it to happen to others if I can help it. That's the difference between me and most opponents. What makes me quicker, sharper, tougher. Quite sad really how shallow and short-lived most of their careers will be.

When I got to the 200th floor, most of the fighters were drooling nerds around me. Others saw me as a joke, a woman who needed to be reminded she didn't belong here.

An American fighter named Jesper came up to me in the hallway of our suites and pulled my chin between his knuckles. "I can't wait to break you. If you're still pretty afterwards, I'd like to buy you dinner," he said. I smiled at him, let him squeeze my jaw so hard it left bruises. I wanted him to enjoy his first and last moment of power.

He came in an armor of rocks, manipulating stones to pulverize his opponents. The rocks hung out of his tall, bulky muscles like a cliff. I didn't even bother trying to absorb his nen ability. I made quick work of him by crushing his boulders, face, and chest in under 5 minutes.

Afterwards I walked over to him as he lay in a pool of his own blood and rubble and whispered, "I'd be happy to buy you dinner, even though you'll have to suck it through a straw." I could feel the lightning in his eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it.

That's how most men in the fighting world are. In order to gain their respect, I have to take their power away from them. Too bad I couldn't do that with the ref tonight. When I beat Jesper, the crowd soared for me, but that's not why I did it. Crowds are easily swayed like leaves in a breeze, loving you in one breath, hating you in the next. Jesper was just a message to the rest of the fighters in the arena that they'd have to give their all when they stepped to me.

Having to prove myself worthy happens everywhere I go so it's quite dull to do at this point. What did touch me was that I noticed there were more women in the stands cheering me on. I can't help but hope that one day I'll see more female warriors, that they'll be more than just employees behind the counter.

The smell of grilling tofu, radish, and broccolini brings me back to the present. Cooking gives me something light and pleasurable to do with my hands. Tonight I decide to make a protein bowl on a bed of quinoa. I put my plate in the microwave and a cover over the leftover food on the stove when I hear a knock on my door.

I open it to find a freshly showered Hisoka. His crimson hair, silky and partially wet, brushes past his eyebrows. The definition of his 8 pack shows through his wifebeater, but everything else is hidden beneath a baggy pair of gray sweatpants.

"Care for a nightcap?" he asks. There are two glasses in one of his hands and a bottle of scotch in the other.

My breasts press together as I lean in the doorway, my towel rustling as I move. "I was getting ready to take a bath and have dinner."

"Is that a no?"

It'd be nice to get to know him better. I like how silky his voice feels on my skin. Plus I'm curious what he wants with me now that the fight's done. He gets bored with toys after he's done playing with them, so I've heard. But I guess we weren't done playing were we? Perhaps he'll try to comfort me after such a painfully unfair defeat. Help me lick my wounds so to speak. Hmm, that actually sounds kinda nice right now. What the hell, it's not like I had anything else planned. I open my door wider for him to come in. "Guess I'll take that drink in the tub."

He walks towards the smell of food coming from the kitchen. "You ordered this?"

As soon as he puts the bottle and glasses on the counter, I immediately open and pour, excited to have something to take the edge off my day. "I cooked. You can have so—" By the time I turn to hand him a glass, he's already eating some food out of a pot. It's a good thing I cook meals in bulk or I'd be pissed. "Feel free to make yourself a plate."

"I just wanted to make sure you can actually cook."

The scotch sloshes around in the glass as I head to the bathroom. "So did you just come for the free food or is something on your mind?"

"I came to check on you, but having dinner ready for me doesn't hurt," he says.

"I'm surprised you're interested in talking about someone outside yourself."

"Blame boredom. Besides, anyone who can actually stimulate me in battle, must be a little interesting."

After I put my glass on the arm of the tub, my towel comes off. Hisoka watches me from the edge of the mirror. Maybe he thinks I'll be surprised or uncomfortable by this, but it actually tickles me. My body is nothing to feel bad about. Feigning innocence is for pussies. He doesn't know I'm the type of woman to look a man in his eyes while I suck him off because it turns me on. 

The ice cubes clink around the tub as I climb in. My blood vessels constrict and the swelling begins melting away. "What did you want to talk with me about?"

Hisoka stands in the middle of the door's threshold with his arms crossed and a glass in his right hand. "The ref underestimated you. You didn't deserve to lose like that."

"I didn't deserve to lose at all."

Hisoka looks down and grins. "Well."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I have nothing to prove to you."

"Then why were you so eager to fight me?" he asks.

I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. "You know why. I told you from the get go, remember?" I remember when we first met, when the flame was first ignited.

                                                                                           *

Ever since I saw Hisoka enter the 200th floor a few months ago, I wanted to devour him. Like everyone else he looked like a freak of nature, but unlike them, he's gorgeous as he is scary to me. When I saw him walking down the hall, his golden eyes pierced me. He had a licentious look that said he was up for anything anytime, yet somehow perpetually bored with it all too. Perfect posture: chest up, shoulders back. I could feel the heat of his confidence radiate off him.

The sharp contrast of his eyes and fiery fuschia hair made his pale skin all the more sleek. The swell of his muscles was somewhere between slender and bulky. Dressed like a jester, his cat eyes and cat walk in heels were flawless. I wondered why his waist was so snatched and his brows were so perfectly arched...like 1940s actress perfect. Androgynous for sure, but his masculine energy was palpable. If nothing else, he's original.

Fresh woodchips. That's what I smelled as he passed by, looking at me, through me, past me all at once. I felt like everything and nothing in his stare. I could tell he wasn't here for fame or fortune. He belonged to himself and the fight. It was the purest thing about him. A fight with whom, I wanted to know. I knew then I had to get him inside the arena if I really wanted his attention. The amount of aura coming off him was overwhelming; I could feel it like a finger drawing along my jaw, neck, and thighs. So powerful. He could probably take almost anyone on this level and above in battle. I didn't even know his name yet, but I knew his body would teach me what I needed to complete my training here. For the first time in a while, I felt excited.

As he spoke to an employee to set up his first match, I walked over to a group nearby, feigning interest so I didn't stare at him. Do you know who he is? Where's he from? Heard he likes to take his victims out with one strike. Heard they call him The Magician since he has a thing for cards. But I realized I wasn't interested in gossiping like a school girl when the man was literally down the hall and I could just say hey. There was nothing to lose by being neighborly. We're grown. We could save the games for the arena. As I turned in his direction, I discovered he was right behind me, leaning against the wall, one arm lingering above my head.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I hope so," I responded. The guys behind me scattered like roaches. I looked back at the emptying hallway. "We're all curious about you."

His eyes shimmered in the light of the hallway. "Yet you're the only one who stuck around."

I folded my arms. "Guess I'm the only one who isn't intimidated by you."

"And why's that?"

My brows furrowed. "Because you're just a man."

He chuckled. "Hmm, the saying goes a man ain't nothin' but a man, right?"

"From John Henry?"

He smiled. "Beloved by Toni Morrison."

Goosebumps crept up my arms and an uncontrollable grin spread across my face. I looked down at the space between our chests. I was hoping he'd say that since I'm a fan of poetic prose and magical realism. So he does have interests outside of fighting. A heat from our breaths blew across my face and neck. Normally I preferred for people, especially strangers, to stay out of my body buffer zone, but there was something magnetic about him. He felt so cozy  like the soft fibers of my blanket when I wrap it around me before bed. Am I imagining this attraction? Is he this way with everyone?

"So what can I do for you?" he asked.

My eyes drifted to the side as I concentrated on saying the right F word. "Fight me."

He leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes. I could tell he was remembering someone. "It's been a while since I fought a woman."

"How'd the last one go?"

"I killed her."

Did he expect me to be intimidated by this? I've dated criminals before. But I still had standards. The guy couldn't be completely morally bereft. No pedophiles, rapists, or cheaters. But otherwise, I was pretty lenient as long as the guy's not a complete ass or narcissist. Honestly I always had a soft spot for bad guys. They tended to be more interesting. It could get me in trouble one day. I sighed. "Did she put up a good fight at least?"

He shrugged. "For a woman I guess. Think you can do better?"

"When my life's on the line, of course."

He smirked. "That's the only way to go."

I tilted my head against the wall. "So it's only kill or be killed for you?"

He nodded his head. "Pretty much."

"Guess I'll have to remedy that."

He pushed himself off the wall and began walking away. "I'd like to see you try. Feel free to take some time to reconsider if you're ready to fight me."

I turned towards him and extended my hand in his direction, pumping nen through my fingertips until he couldn't move. "My mind is made up."

He turned towards me and licked his lips.

"As I said before, I'm not intimidated by you," I walked toward him as he struggled in my aura like fly in a web, "so feel free to do your worst."

I walked in close enough to touch his chest, but before I could, he kneed me in the stomach, punched my face and sent me flying down the hall. I landed on my back with a smile on my face. Guess I could go for a little friendly sparring, I thought. As I got up I saw him run at me. I used gyo to see nen gathering in his right hand. I ran at him until he was close enough to throw his punch. It was a risk since I didn't know how fast he was, but my next move would definitely be worth it.

When he reached his right arm back I dropped into a split and punched him in the crotch. Not hard enough to do any real damage, just enough to throw him off guard and see what he's working with...turns out it was enough to crack my knuckles. Good for him. I lifted one of his legs and threw him over me and onto the ground. Instead of a thud he landed gracefully on his feet and kicked me in the back as I stood up. I fell on my stomach and before I could move, he was on me. His thighs straddled the sides of my torso while his bulge rested on my lower back. Clawlike fingers grabbed a fistful of my hair and brought my face close to his. "Why do you want to fight me?"

I looked up at him and saw his lips part. His pupils narrowed as he watched me. The question made me vulnerable, like there was a hole on my body that he could reach into to tear out my insides. I hated being that honest, but I loved how he made my body feel. "To become stronger."

He stared at me for a few moments as if assessing whether my answer was enough for us to go further. His thumb stroked my scalp as he continued to grip my hair. Suddenly, he stood up and reached a hand out to help me up. "I didn't catch your name."

*

I smile, circling my fingers around ice cubes in the tub. "There you were wondering if I was worth your time. Now look at you. In my doorway, tongue hanging out the side of your mouth as you watch me bathe like the pervert you are."

"What an active imagination you have. And besides," he looks down at my stiffened nipples floating next to ice cubes, "you like being watched."

I pick up the glass and take a sip. "I'm always trying to prove myself to myself. I came to Heaven's Arena to hone in on my abilities. That way, I get closer to being one of the strongest warriors in the world."

He waves his free hand towards me. "Look, we could talk about how unfair the ref, the game, and life are, but it won't change the results. When I was kicked out of my first hunter exam, I didn't try to plead my case and win sympathy. That's not who I am and that's not what the examiners wanted to hear. So I sucked it up and  reapplied the following year. I'm sure you'll have many other opportunities to prove yourself."

Maybe he's right, but I'm still pissed off so I don't want to hear it. "Thanks for the pep talk," I say sarcastically.

He motions his drink towards me. "Speaking of opportunities, whenever you're ready for a rematch, just let me know."

"Should I feel flattered that you'd challenge me?"

"I should think so."

I take sip of scotch then lean the glass against my forehead. "Cheeky little bastard aren't you? On one condition. No killing."

Hisoka groans. "I guess you could be more useful to me alive than dead. How will the winner be determined?"

"Whoever is the first to get ten knockdowns."

He begins to play with a card in his free hand, making it appear and disappear. "Doesn't sound as fun."

"It will be when the time comes. So, do we have a deal?"

He sips his drink before answering. "Deal."

After a few minutes when we finish our drinks, Hisoka takes the glasses to the sink.  I prepare to get out of the tub and by the time I stand up he's back, arms wide with my towel to wrap me in it. I smell fresh cut grass when he leans in and brushes my collarbone with his nails. My head comes up to his chest. "You're shorter than I thought."

I look into his amber eyes. "If you're trying to make me uncomfortable, it isn't working."

He smiles. "Let's  eat."