Hisoka eats like a perfect gentleman.  While his table manners pair well with the jazz music in the background, it annoys me. I'm a foodie and one of my biggest turn ons is watching people eat like they're about to make love to the food. So far Hisoka's just been petting it with a knife and fork.

He looks up and sees me staring at him. "Is something wrong?"

I shrug. "Nothing, I just like watching people eat and you're kinda ruining the mood for me."

He chuckles and puts the utensils down. "How so?"

"You're not eating like you're really hungry. Like it's a pleasure or need. It seems like more of a formality to you."

His brows furrow. "Are we having dinner or making an adult film?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Somewhere in between."

His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. "That's not how I eat."

I pick up a piece of tofu and sop it up with an indulgent amount satay sauce. "How about you give me one bite to tide me over?"

Hisoka looks at the food dripping over the plate before taking my hand and sucking it off my fingers. Staring deeper than he ever has into my eyes, he lets the sauce drip down his chin and slips his tongue between my fingers. When he swallows, he sucks my fingers hard, bites and releases them with a final lick. My mouth has never been so wet.

Though I want to lick my fingers to see what he tastes like, I wipe them instead. "Now I know how your deck of cards feel."

He picks up a napkin and wipes his mouth, obviously pleased with himself. "Satisfied?"

I give a slight nod. "More or less."

"Now that I've done something for you, I want you to do something for me."

"Such as?"

"Let's talk about your ability," he says.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," I say.

"More like there's a weakness for you to learn from."

"I'm pretty sure I would've won if the ref—"

He presses a finger against his left temple. "This will go a lot faster if you don't let your ego get in the way."

I laugh. "Ego? If that's not the pot calling the kettle, I don't know what is."

"While I can acknowledge that I'm a quick study, I'm also aware that it would've taken a lot longer for me get where I am if I didn't let other people teach me," he says.

I decide to play nice and lean back in my chair . "Go on."

"To your earlier comment, yes I've figured out your abilities. Your first is taking in your opponent's aura and using it against them, which makes you a Conjurer. Transmutation also comes pretty naturally for you since you can match, or outmatch, the strength of your opponent's aura. Your second ability, draining human aura to regenerate your own and heal is clearly a manipulation. The latter ability's weakness is that you have to make physical contact in order for the ability to work. But what if there comes a time where your opponent doesn't let you get to your energy source or any of your sources are misplaced or killed? This tells me that all I'd have to do is exhaust you then quickly move in for the kill," he explains.

Hmm, he's right. I've been taking my abilities for granted because I never fought someone I didn't think I could beat. It'd only take one competent opponent or stroke of luck, for them to defeat me. "So I need to learn how to extract aura without having to come in physical contact with my energy source."

"From as wide a radius as possible, yes. By the way, what do you call your second ability?"

"Parasyte."

"Ah, how appropriate."

I lean my head on my hand. "I'd say thank you, but I know the reason you told me is completely self-serving. If I improve my skills then I can provide a more challenging match for you."

"Is that a bad thing?" Hisoka asks.

"It might be nice to help others just for the sake of being helpful sometimes," I said.

He shakes his head. "Where's the fun in that?"

With that, his nose begins to bleed. When I reach out to wipe it with a napkin, there's another surface on top of his skin. He doesn't try to stop me from removing it. "What's this?" I ask. I take off a sheet and see plum-colored flesh underneath.

"It's my Texture Surprise. I can use my aura to alter objects like cloth to resemble my flesh and attach it with Bungee Gum so no one can tell I'm injured or see any nasty old wounds."

I lift his chin to see the alignment of his nose. "Your nose is still slightly crooked. Want me to fix it?"

"Sure."

Since there's no room on the table, I scoot his chair back. "Do you mind if I straddle you?"

He grins. "Whatever helps you get the job done."

I sit in his lap and feel one of his long fingered hands on my hips. "You're also heavier than I thought. I see you carry most of your weight in your hips."

I can't tell if his assessment's sensual or tactical for measuring my stance in a fight. "Is it too much for you to handle?" I ask while cracking his nose in place.

"Not at all," he replies while giving my hip a slight squeeze.

From this angle I can see more cuts on his face and feel some of the tender spots on his arms and torso. "I'd be happy to dress your other wounds as well."

He looks down at my body and sees how I've placed bandages on myself after my bath. As we get up Hisoka takes off his shirt and lowers his sweatpants mid-hip before laying down on the couch. Of course he's not wearing underwear. "I'd like that."

I grab some gauze wrapping, rubbing alcohol, and cotton balls. While touching him, I realize that this is more about touch than it is healing. How long has it been since someone touched me? Not the touch of fan who only cares about my image, but a touch that sees me as human, reminds me I exist, makes me feel warmth.

Goosebumps bristle along his skin when I touch him in certain areas: behind his right ear, beneath his shoulder blade, his belly button, and knees. Who would've guessed he's ticklish. I love the laugh that builds in his stomach and how he tries to flinch away before it bursts out his mouth. He keeps his eyes closed, relaxed, lashes like feathers, trusting my every move. He almost looks innocent.

After a few minutes, he turns his head to the side. "I was just thinking, if your goal is to become stronger, you should come to Yorknew City in September to battle with members from the Phantom Troupe."

"They're all basically ghosts. None of them have records. How would I find them?" I ask.

His breath is so light I can barely feel his body move. This probably makes him good at going stealth mode. As hard as his body is, his skin is surprisingly soft like spring leaves, perfectly curved and ribbed. "They're planning a heist at an underground mafia auction."

When I rub his hand, his fingers trickle against my palms, striking the chords of the guitar in the song playing perfectly. His fingers are perfect for plucking an instrument, long and thin. The tips of his nails feel like a curious insect crawling along my skin and makes me giggle. For someone who hits hard enough to break flesh and crack bone, his touch is shockingly tender. "I'm surprised you don't keep your team's plans a secret to protect them. Aren't they your family?"

He chuckles. "I don't really believe in family. Just what suits each of us for the time being. I think you'll be just fine. Just ruffle a few feathers."

I sigh. "If you consider Nobunaga's blade the ruffle and my head the feather."

Hisoka turns on his back to face me. "You know them?"

I tilt my head from side to side. "Kinda, but not really. More an enemy than a friend."

"Well, that should make things interesting. You'll get to see what you're capable of in a life or death situation. Several fighters come at you at once ready to kill. You have no choice but to do or die. And how powerful your mind and body become in a moment to survive, to win. And the edge your enemy has over you dies with them. You know?"

I lean down to whisper in his ear. "So now that you can't kill me, you're trying to find some other way to get rid of me."

He strokes my neck with two of his fingers. "You'll just have to find a way to level the playing field."

"So if you're not attached to anyone, why are you in the troupe?"

He stares at me quietly for a moment as if he's trying to figure out whether or not he can tell me the truth. But what reason would I have to tell his secret to an enemy?

"To fight Chrollo, the troupe leader," he finally answers, "I've been waiting to get him alone for a while and I think this time, I will."

From what I've heard, Chrollo damn near impossible to take down. It'd be an incredible feat if Hisoka could manage it. I rub the front of his shoulders. "I hope you live to tell the tale."

"Me too."

His amber eyes penetrate mine so deeply it feels like sex. His stare surges through my skin, heats me from the inside out, traces along my body like he's done it before. The guitar music in the background flutters like butterfly wings and sunshine between the shade of trees as you drive past them. I feel his fingers stroke the bottom of my shirt. This moment feels so lived in even though we just met. It all feels so reliable though I know it can go away at any minute. It's been a while since I've felt this way about anyone. I know better than to question why or who I have chemistry with, especially when it doesn't happen that often.

But still...Why are you so damn comfortable? Maybe it's because we're both so secure in our bodies and who we are that there's no need to put on pretenses. I'm not in the habit of keeping my guard down. We touch as if we know each other and I wonder if this lush, warm moment is what will truly make Hisoka dangerous to me.

There's a knock at my door and we're both surprised to hear it. When he gets up, cracks his neck, and stretches I wonder how long it's been since he's been touched and if mine makes him feel anything. When I go to answer it, Gon and Killua are there. Gon looks up at me with wide brown eyes, an honest smile, spiked black hair, long thin grasshopper legs, and a spring green outfit. Meanwhile Killua's head's lowered, his white hair shades his eyes, his pale skin cast in a shadow the same color as his turtleneck. His hands are buried in his pockets. What could he possibly have to hide from me when I barely know who he is?

Gon rubs the back of his head. "Hi, Oby. Sorry it's so late, but we've been working up the nerve to come over here."

I shift my weight from one foot to another. "No problem. What's up?"

"We watched your fight with Hisoka tonight. No one's ever gotten that far in a fight with him before—"

"That we know of," I interrupt.

"Yea," Gon giggles, "guess that's true. Anyway, your fighting style's amazing and there's so much we can learn from it. Killua and I have just started learning nen and were wondering if you'd be willing to teach us more about it."

Before I can respectfully decline, a topless Hisoka comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "I think that's a wonderful idea," he says.

As I look at him, I get the feeling he's trying to unnerve the boys with his presence.

Hisoka continues. "You'd be an excellent teacher. And since you like helping others so much..."

My eyes narrow on him. He's trying to manipulate me into agreeing to this, but I can't help but wonder if he's right. Could these kids teach me something that could make me a better fighter? Even if this is true, their time with me wouldn't start any time soon. "I'm flattered by your request. From what I've seen of your fights, you both have potential that takes most nen users years to unlock. But you're not ready to study with me yet. I suggest finding a few teachers that can teach you the basics of nen. When you feel you have a better handle on both the major principles, come find me."

The boys eyes grow wide and their mouths drop. I know they're wondering why this sociopath who nearly killed me is now cuddling up next to me. It's complicated. Eventually Killua sheepishly breaks the  silence. "How will we know how to find you?".

"You're hunters, rights?"

Killua looks down at his feet. "Gon is, but I'm—"

"You'll get there and when you do," I produce a black card and give it to Killua, "come find me."

The boys nod at this. "Okay. Thanks for your time. Sorry if we interrupted your...evening. Hope to see you soon!" Gon says with the wave of his hand.

When they're gone, I turn back to Hisoka. "I'm assuming you get something out of me training the boys."

"It's about all of you. I think you all have the potential to become stronger fighters—"

"So you can play with us."

Hisoka puts his shirt on and walks toward the door. "When the time is right, yes."

I smile. "Well, I just hope you don't disappoint me."

Hisoka chuckles. "Thanks for dinner. And just so you know, I believe Killua's smitten with you. That should make him a very docile pupil  when the time comes. Good night."

Once he closes the door, I think about what was said and what I didn't say. I've gotten closer than I probably should have to one of the Phantom Troupe members, betrayed their trust and I don't know if they've gotten over it yet. Either way, I would never let emotions get in the way of a good fight. I go over to the kitchen counter and pour myself another drink, take a sip, then press the cool glass to my cheek. I guess I could finish up my time at Heaven's Arena by winning one more match and challenging a floor master before the summer's out. Finding work in Yorknew City won't be hard. All I have to do is bide my time til September. "Until then, my magician," I say into the drink before swallowing it whole.