章節 392: What Was Needed by Serenechaos (Hunter x Hunter)
Latest Update:February 12th, 2023
Summary: Non-SI OC.
A young woman is reborn into a loving, but very poor, family. When slavers come and she is kidnapped, all she can think of is getting back home, but every step seems to take her farther from her goal, getting her mixed into a world she never expected.
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457293?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true#main
Word count:458k
Chapters:66
Chapter 1
Chapter Text
This fiction is being written in remembrance of a friend of mine who died a little over ten years ago. At the time of her death, her favorite anime and manga was Hunter X Hunter. I deliberately put off watching or reading it for so long because of that, but now that I have, this story began to float around in my head. So, it introduces an original character who enters the Hunter X Hunter world by reincarnation.
Warning: There are mentions of some very disturbing topics in this fiction, the first of which will be abuse. I ask that if anyone does know of or suspect such a thing is happening, then speak up. The consequences of not raising your voice can haunt you for life, and cost someone else theirs.
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Life is a funny thing, but fate can truly be a witch with a capital 'B.'
A vicious kick connected with my chest, drawing a gurgled cry, blood bubbling out of my mouth. Next to me, the broken glass and spilled water, the catalyst of this attack, swam in my blurry vision. It hadn't been broken by accident.
My father had come home in a horrible mood that day. One of his peers had lost a major case that day, a case that he had been helping to organize and research. Because of this, he believed that his possibility for a promotion had been hampered and had turned to his favorite comfort: bourbon. That had been chased with the whiskey that he would eternally deny having.
Once drunk enough, then he'd turned to his second favorite comfort: working out. And his absolute favorite way to work up a sweat was to beat my mother and me.
He had caught me in the kitchen, getting a drink of water and had slapped the glass out of my hand.
Dodging the first punch as he yelled at me for breaking the glass made him angrier, and he caught me as I attempted to run for the door, his meaty hand tangling in my hair and throwing me down before he had begun the beating.
I coughed as my eyes caught sight of my mother, just outside the kitchen door. I didn't dare to hope she would do anything, she was too beaten down to ever oppose my father.
Another kick to the stomach caused me to curl in automatically, unfortunately causing me to come closer to the glass fragments and water, both of which my father was reminded of when a cough sent blood into the water, making it spread.
"Ugly cunt!" he shouted angrily, his foot coming down hard on my hand, and I could hear the bones snapping despite my cry. "Always making messes, even after all I've done for you!"
More blows rained down, the glass cutting my skin as he kicked me into the mess. I groaned and lost a shriek when a particularly large shard cut me across the face, hot blood flowing out of the wound and onto the floor. The sight of it only seemed to make him even angrier and the blows came harder. All attempts to guard anything other than my head were in vain as my arms became bruised and a loud 'snap' signified a bone breaking.
The cry that escaped from my throat at the searing pain earned me another kick, and then I was staring at my arm, a bone poking through the flesh. My arm went limp and left my head unguarded.
My father didn't miss a beat, his foot crashing into my jaw. I felt my teeth grind, but didn't know whether my jaw was broken or not.
A second kick knocked my broken arm and caused the world to dissolve into a haze of hideous pain. Blackness ate at my vision then consumed my world.
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"Are you alright?"
It was the stupidest question I had ever heard. The pain radiated through my form, yet I still felt so cold and numb. I must have given a signal though since the voice came again.
"She's alive! I got a pulse!"
Pulse? Pulse… When had someone touched me?
"Get her on the gurney, if we-… -ve her."
What? Was I going somewhere?
Movement occurred, causing my head to spin. Air was forced into my lungs and I found myself choking on it, almost coming back to full consciousness due to the pain of it only for it to knock me back yet again.
"-losing h-"
A bright light came overhead, blazing into an eye that had been forced open, and I longed for it to stop.
"-cras-…-art!"
The coldness felt… Good now. Warm even. And the light was fading. I felt… relieved.
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Blackness surrounded me. It was endless and wrapped around me like a warm blanket. Everything was warm and wet.
There was nothing else there, and it gave me plenty of time to think.
I had been finally getting my life together. I was in my fourth year of college, seeing a therapist to help me get past my 'previous' abusive relationship. Perhaps it was stupid, but I hadn't been able to admit to anyone that my abuser was my father yet.
I hadn't visited home for over two years and was honestly feeling more confident, like I wasn't a victim anymore. I wasn't my father's punching bag. I was an honors student, well-liked by my professors. I was going to be a doctor, and had already been accepted into my school of choice.
I was the idiot who had decided to conquer her fear of 'home' by visiting her parents for a weekend, and had subsequently been beaten.
In this blackness, I struggled with the resolve that my therapist had been helping me to build. When I woke up, it didn't matter how, I was going to be going after my father and I'd ensure this ended for good. It was a scary thought due to him working at a major law firm, as a prospective partner no less, but if I could convince my mother to testify as well, then I was certain we could get rid of him. Make him sit in jail for a couple of decades, maybe even learn what it was like to be a punching bag.
I'd come clean to my friends and therapist about everything, and maybe I would finally be over all of this.
I had no idea how long the darkness lasted, or what kind of treatment I was receiving, only that I was cognizant so hopefully that would mean no brain damage.
Things finally changed when there was a tight, squeezing sensation in the environment around me. Pressure built and it felt like liquid was rushing around me. Every part of me felt like it was being compressed, and I prayed this meant I was regaining sensation as I woke. Time had had little meaning thus far, but it dragged now as it felt like a vice closed around my head and a wet cloth was tightened over my face.
Attempts to thrash and yell offered few results, less than they had early on. My movements had always felt restricted, but now it was like everything had tightened to unbelievable proportions.
Pain erupted through my head from the pressure and noise began to reach my ears. It was distant at first, and then the pain in my head began to fade and noises became clearer. A voice that sounded pained and peeved rent through the air, giving me hope that I was about to awaken in the emergency room. That this entire trip in my head hadn't been the eternity that it had seemed to be.
Cold hit next, and pain in the rest of my body even as what felt like a giant hand settled over my head. My head was freezing while my body was being crushed in a warm, wet cloth!
Pressure continued to mount and I felt myself sliding out of those confines and into the frigid air. The pain of that air drew a squawk from me and then I was free from confinement, but freezing in the air.
My skin was too sensitive at that moment, and the hand-like object caused a horrible stinging sensation. My attempt to yell at the perpetrator only caused a whine and cry to come from my lips and mentally I groaned. For my skin to be this sensitive and to be unable to produce decent speech, I had to have been out of commission for months!
Scratchy material that was wet wiped me down and I yelled again, trying to let whoever was responsible for this know that I was in pain, but there was no effect and no response. Instead, I was wrapped in more scratchy cloth and settled in… Something.
My mind was not offering any suggestions about what I was in, only that it adjusted to my body with each shift. It almost felt like I was being held by someone who was trying to be careful but was uncertain about what they were doing.
It was utterly disconcerting and in desperation for some sort of answer, I tried to open my eyes. I was met with somewhat dim light, my eyes unable to focus very far. But I did manage to make out the face that stared down at me.
He was smiling, the expression on his face making him look spellbound. Eyes that I couldn't describe were studying me while words I couldn't understand floated from his mouth. His eyes turned away from me for a brief moment before returning to me, his smile gentle.
I was handed to someone else then, far more carefully than what should have been necessary, and settled on a chest. A woman's naked chest. Where I was directed to a nipple and things suddenly clicked.
My mind screamed. I screamed.
Things had ended between my father and I, permanently. My father had killed me!
My screams were of sorrow, pain, fear, and innumerable regrets.
Gentle hands tried to soothe me, and I was certain I sensed more than just one pair. Words that had no meaning to me were murmured, then I was handed to someone else.
I didn't get a good look at this person's face before my eyes slipped shut again, my strength for that moment spent.
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Time had little meaning again, I slept too much to effectively keep track. Whenever I was awake though, someone was always holding me, either one of two women or the man.
I was maybe two days old when a medic or nurse entered the room again and gave me a 'check-up,' though it felt more like they were just confirming that I was still capable of kicking and screaming. The medic's face showed significant wear, as though harsh conditions and a harsh life had caused him to age prematurely.
The medic moved away and one of the women, this one had blonde hair, lifted me gently. The other woman had strawberry-blondish hair and would sometimes hold me, but she felt more distant. They hadn't attempted to breast feed me a second time since my birth, so I wasn't sure which was my mother. Instead, bottles were brought in. The milk in the bottles tasted weird and I could tell that the bottle wasn't the cleanest thing in existence, but it was all that was offered currently.
The blonde murmured to me gently in what I assumed was her native tongue while wrapping me in a blanket, and I tried my best to remain silent as I studied her further. She seemed nice, like a loving mom, and she smiled when she saw I was focusing on her. That smile convinced me of one thing: she was 18 at oldest.
The man wandered over then, checking on us. He made no romantic gestures towards the woman I suspected was my mother, at most he acted brotherly towards her. But the smile he gave as he reached down and tucked one of his fingers into one of my tiny fists was fatherly. I estimated him to be about 15.
So, was I a product of an unexpected teenage pregnancy in a place that didn't have too many options? At least my supposed-father seemed intent to stick around.
My eyes slid shut again as my new mother finished wrapping me, and I was barely aware of being lifted and carried through the cavernous room for the first time.
Sounds surrounded us, as did a number of smells that burned my inexperienced nose and caused me to wrinkle it in displeasure. Then whatever shelter we had been in was left behind.
The air felt cooler here, cleaner in a sense, and there was far less noise. Sleep gripped me and I relented to it.
Noise brought me back to somewhat consciousness, and I forced open my eyes as I felt the arms holding me shift and someone new came into view. Someone whose eager face got so close that I couldn't see anything other than wide green eyes.
A blur of motion and loud voice replaced those eyes and I found myself staring at an afro. That mound of hair was pushed down by someone else and chaos erupted that I couldn't see. My mother chose then to readjust her grip on me and begin moving again, quickly leaving the room. We didn't go far.
I was settled on something that seemed rather firm, then the blanket I was wrapped in was removed, replaced with one that felt much softer and smoother. It took much control to not react as my diaper was checked.
Then the woman curled up on what I now guessed was a bed beside me, her heartbeat and warmth quickly sending me to sleep yet again.
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The days that followed were a blur for the most part. It's possible that the trauma of birth caused me to enter an initial alert state, but within days most of the tension was gone and I was just a baby.
My focus went out the window unless something startled me. I could barely comprehend for several months what was happening, and when I was alert, I was so bored that I kept trying to count my fingers.
Eventually my vision got better and my ability to keep my thoughts in order improved. To combat boredom, I reviewed my memories and the last several years in school as well as began to seriously wonder where I was.
My new family didn't take me outside very often, but when they did, my improving vision had afforded me the sight of a small desert city, one that was rough and worn with few operating vehicles. The people were of a diverse ethnic background. If they had spoken English, my best guesses would have been the western United States or Australia. They also didn't speak Spanish, which knocked out most communities in Latin America. I could only hope I wasn't in some sort of religious nut-case society that had evolved their own language.
As for my new family, they confused me more than the puzzle of my location. I still didn't know for certain which of the two women was my mother, but I had discovered that they were actually lovers, which raised more questions that I couldn't even hope to ask.
On the other hand, there was no questioning or denying that the dark-haired man was my father. He was a near constant in my life, apparently living in the same house as my possible mothers, and seemed eager to take part in my care, sharing the responsibility with the blonde woman while the strawberry-blonde was less than enthusiastic. He would disappear often, usually for days at a time, and when he returned he would usually bring something for me. It was almost always some sort of item used to care for me such as diapers and formula, then he started to bring a toy every so often as well. One that I was particularly fond of was a stuffed bear with strange ears and very soft reddish-brown 'fur.' I had watched him sew in the eyes under the direction of the strawberry-blonde woman. They were mismatched, one eye being black and the other blue, but it made the bear all the more special. I had already decided that the blonde woman was my mother, and since she had blue eyes, each of the eyes seemed to represent my mom and dad.
The rest of the family seemed to just come and go at random, one would be there one day then gone for weeks on end after. When they returned, they brought supplies in the form of non-perishable items plus formula and diapers.
By the time I was a year old, I decided I was very lucky: though they were very poor, I was well-loved by my family. I was learning their language rapidly. I had also learned that my name for this life would be 'Takara,' my family calling me 'Kara' for short.
Things changed around the time I turned 2, with my mother and her lover also disappearing for days on end whereas previously they would only leave for a few hours. When this happened, I was sent to stay with a matronly woman in the town. She seemed to be a general caretaker for a number of children, easily overwhelmed due to her age and thus, easy to slip away from. I just had to make sure I was back before the next mealtime.
The denizens of the town we resided in saw nothing weird or wrong about a toddler exploring the streets since watchful eyes were everywhere. To add to the air of innocent exploration, I always carried my bear with me.
The town was every bit as dilapidated as I suspected, the buildings were old and rubbish seemed to be everywhere. Digging around for newspapers that I could read was fruitless, everything was in a language I couldn't decipher. My determination to figure out where I was wouldn't be deterred though, and the next time my parents were home, I crawled into my father's lap while he was reading.
"Read to me!" I chirped happily as I hugged my bear, hoping to appear childish and innocent but interested.
It disappointed me more than just a bit when my father set aside his book and picked up a more 'age-appropriate' one. But considering that I wanted to learn to read, this seemed the best way to start. Following this, I spent several days trying to familiarize myself with the new written language, my finger pointing at characters and me trying to make the sound that corresponded with them. My father was thrilled. The rest of the family laughed it off as having another avid reader.
Every time that I was left with the caretaker, I continued my adventures in the town as soon as I could slip away. I could now read a number of words, though I had some difficulty in separating the different words in sentences at times since I still didn't know the phonetic rules of the language I was learning, nor was there a 'give' such as a space between words.
Time seemed to move both quickly and slowly now. I was enjoying my new life thoroughly, so it moved quickly. I missed my family when they were away, so it moved slowly.
Since I had had a decent grasp of the passing days by the time my family celebrated my second birthday, I was able to keep track of the months well enough to know that my third birthday was approaching. It was still two months away when I found a treasure in the rubbish, a book with a title that confused me at first.
"A-to-ra-su," I murmured, stretching the word to try to remember what it meant for a long moment before flipping open the cover and almost giggling in delight. An atlas! And the word for it was so similar to English! Then my eyes focused on the general world map and my jaw dropped.
It was a jumble! Nothing at all like the maps I was previously familiar with! It looked like Africa had teamed up with South America to take over the place where North America was normally situated, North America was warped and in what had originally been South America's space, Asia had been cut in two and turned on its side, and Australia was in between Asia and the misshapen and misplaced North America!
Flipping the page, the map now focused on a continent labeled Yorbia, but before I could study it further, a shadow fell over me.
"Gotcha!" a voice rang out as a familiar pair of arms wrapped around my waist and hauled me high up into the air.
"Uncle Gin!" I shrieked as the large fingers tickled my sides and I was flipped around to look straight into my tallest uncle's face. His afro tickled the side of my face as he kissed my cheek then settled me on his shoulder.
My uncles were mostly strong and well-built men, and always had a smell of sweat to them. I suspected that they were all miners, my father included, or did some other form of physical labor.
"Went to pick you up from Granny Jeeb and you were missing!" my uncle declared as he reached down to snag my bear and noticed the open atlas. "Another book?! Geez kid, you gonna be a-," he uttered a word I didn't recognize, "or something? Don't do much good here."
I accepted my bear with a bright smile, noting that he didn't touch the atlas, and decided to come back to it the next time I had the opportunity.
"Your dad ain't too happy you took off, but he'll likely think nothing of it when he hears I found ya reading another book!"
"Depends on the book," another familiar voice cut in and I squirmed as my uncle turned, happy to see my father. "What did you find, Takara?"
My squirming ceased immediately since I recognized the tone: he was upset at me. And I wasn't going to get any support from my uncle since he chose to set me down and retreat.
"Well?"
"An a-to-rasu," I replied after a moment.
My father stared at me for a long moment before a small smile pulled at his features, his hand reaching for mine. "An atlas? Do you even know what that is?"
"World maps!" I stated, my tone bright.
My hand now firmly in my father's grasp, we began to walk back towards the center of town, my uncle going ahead to call off the search.
"Do maps interest you?" my father continued as we trekked past pile after pile of debris and I gave a slight nod. "How about the world?"
I nodded emphatically. "I wanna see it!"
"What if I told you that it ended just a few kilometers outside of town?"
"Then where do you go when you leave?" I pointed out, speaking in a way no two-year-old should, something I had done since I had finally learned to speak.
My father laughed in response. "I suppose that isn't a," another word was said that I didn't recognize yet, "Speaking of the outside world reminds me, I got a new eye for your fox-bear, another blue one."
Horror seized me automatically.
"We can change out the black one when we get ho-"
"NO!" I declared forcefully. "Daddy eye!" It was a childish argument, but I was a child right then and the favorite feature of my favorite toy had just been threatened.
My father looked surprised. "Daddy eye?"
I nodded as I pointed to the black eye on my bear. "Daddy eye." Then my finger shifted to the blue eye. "Mommy eye."
My father's eyes softened in response and his smile returned. "Alright Kara, you can keep the daddy eye."
I smiled up at him as we continued into town, his hand keeping a firm grip on mine as we entered the main town square. There looked to be a riot going on as people shouted towards a building that I had come to believe was for administrative purposes. My father picked me up as we drew closer to the crowd and began to edge our way through.
"Why're they mad?" I asked as my father dodged around several people.
"Because one of our own was killed," my father replied.
"And they're mad?"
"Yes. Always remember Kara, bonds here are different from anywhere else, and most people don't even try to understand. For us, the saying 'thin as water, thick as blood' refers to precious life and family. Neither should be wasted. Bonds are the same, like water and blood and never to be wasted."
"Water and blood," I repeated.
"She's too young to hear things like that," came yet another familiar voice, and my eyes came to rest on my mother's strawberry-blonde lover. "You should just say that outsiders hurt someone and they aren't happy."
"I did, then gave an explanation," my father informed her with an admonishing smile. "If we use baby talk or talk down to her, we'll stunt Kara's mental development."
"Kara is right here," I snarked automatically, drawing an incredulous look from the woman.
"And Kara has a very smart mouth that she probably learned from-"
"You," my father interrupted with a grin. "And possibly me."
The woman huffed as she fell in step with my father. "It might be a good thing that she ran off. Half of the brats at Granny Jeeb's have come down with-" Yet another word was uttered that I didn't understand and I watched her in confusion as she poked her arm. Just the sight of her doing that made me itch.
We arrived at the family home a few minutes later and were greeted to the sight of my mother and several uncles running around the house. They stopped suddenly when my mother caught sight of us.
"She's okay!" she shouted to the men, and a moment later was extracting me from my father's arms. "You gave us a scare!" she declared as she turned to march into the house. "Now you need to be checked for any-" I felt like screaming as yet another unfamiliar word was used and I didn't have the opportunity to ask what it meant.
The resulting strip down was followed by a bath, and I came to realize what they had been worried about: chicken pox. I had several of the marks forming on my body already. It was unsurprising when I was immediately put to bed.
"Come on, we could easily deal with this!" one of my uncles yelled from the front room that evening. I had been told to stay in bed and that my mother would bring me some soup later. "Awaken her and it'll be cleared out by morning!"
"Awaken her, dead by midnight!" another voice snarled, this one belonging to my shortest uncle. I had been taught to call him Aunt Fae by one of my other uncles, a name that he apparently hated but failed to correct. "Kara is two."
More arguments broke out, and there was the sound of some shoving and yelps. I wished I was out there with them, eating with my strange but wonderful family, watching the live entertainment. Soon enough, the noise died down to regular talking, then my mother entered the room with a bowl of soup.
"Uncle Lin will be in shortly to check on you," she informed me as she fussed with a blanket that I kept pushing off.
"You're leaving already?" I asked as my eyes glanced towards her bed.
Her hand dropped the blanket and touched my forehead gently. "Only for tonight. We need to get medicine for you and the other kids."
Feeling particularly childish in that moment, I huffed and lay back down. I might have actually been closer to twenty-three than two years old mentally, but I wanted to feel what it was like to have a doting mother tending to me while I was sick. It was a warm and loving connection that I had come to crave and adore with my family, something I had previously missed.
My mother left after ensuring I ate the soup and tucking me under enough blankets to smother a bear.
Sleep came and went that night, with me waking up when Uncle Lin entered the room to check on me. I had kicked off most of the extra blankets by then and he piled them back on.
"You need to stay warm," he gently admonished as he checked my forehead.
My response was a small cough, my throat feeling dry.
"Want some water?"
I nodded slightly, my eyes feeling far heavier than normal.
A cup was held to my lips as my uncle helped me sit up and I gratefully drank. The water temporarily alleviated the pain in my throat and then the cough returned. It should have kept me awake, but I only stirred when it was particularly bad.
It was still dark when someone entered the room and shook me awake.
"Turn over," the voice instructed as most of the blankets were dragged off of my form. I obeyed simply because I was freezing and the smelly, old mattress offered more warmth than the cold night air.
A large, warm hand came to rest on my back then, and I managed to open my eyes slightly.
The hand seemed to grow warmer with every second that passed, as did my body, and then the dark wasn't so dark anymore. The drowsiness I had been experiencing fled. Heat exploded through my veins.
The door slammed open and three more people barreled into the room. I took the opportunity to turn over to find that the person who had been behind me was uncle Gin, and he was currently being hauled out by uncle Lin and Naga while another of my uncles, whose name was still difficult for me so I knew him simply as uncle Al, gathered me up.
"Kara, you have to calm it!" he ordered. I stared at him, uncomprehending of what he meant while his eyes seemed to pop upon meeting my eyes. "Get control!"
"Of what?" I murmured and my uncle's eyes looked pained for a long moment before he pulled out a stick of some sort.
"Please let this work!" he yelled, stabbing the stick into my arm, and the world went black.
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It was morning when I awoke again, feeling nowhere near as groggy as I had during the night. The cough was also gone and I wasn't feeling itchy.
"THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" the voice rang out from the front of the little house and I jumped, my hand automatically grabbing my bear. Horrible memories of a former-parent flashed through my mind and I was surprised at the temptation to hide under the covers of my bed.
A softer, rather subdued voice responded, one that seemed out of place being so soft.
"YOU GOT LUCKY! If- Don't you tell me to calm down! This is a serious matter!"
It was my mother's lover who was yelling I finally realized as I rose to my feet and wandered to the door, opening it as silently as I could and peeking down the short hallway towards the main room. From my restricted view point, it seemed a family meeting was occurring.
"Your call said that there was no medicine in the town you went to so I did something!" Uncle Gin's voice responded. "Kara's not sick now and-"
"Awake," my father's voice cut through the din like a knife. His dark eyes had already spied me in the hall.
Neither my mother nor her lover said anything after that, both simply marched up the hall, picked me up, and entered our room. The door was shut and I was set down on my bed again.
I wasn't allowed to leave the room that day as they observed me, my father being the only other one allowed in. He brought us meals and assured my guards/mothers that uncle Gin would be punished.
My mother and her lover (or was she also my mother?), checked me thoroughly several times that day, noting that all the pox marks had in fact vanished. The fever was gone as well and I wasn't showing any signs of fatigue beyond that caused by general boredom.
The next day things seemed odd as my mothers finally allowed me out of the bedroom and I ran to the front room where breakfast was being passed out. It seemed like every eye followed me that morning as I dodged legs and smiled brightly when a bowl of porridge was handed to me.
"When's our next job?" Uncle Al finally asked after a few minutes when everyone settled.
I looked up automatically, hoping it wouldn't be for quite a while. My father didn't meet my eyes.
"Three days," he replied.
"Three days? We're getting a lot of work recently!"
My father shrugged with one shoulder. "Our skills are in high demand with the community, and the recent chicken pox outbreak has strained all of the city's supplies."
I rubbed my arm then, a bit upset that they would be leaving so soon when I remembered the night that uncle Gin had cured my chicken pox. "Why not do what uncle Gin did to me?"
More than a few backs stiffened in response and half the adults in the room glared at my afro-topped uncle.
"You don't yet know what he did," uncle Al started in explanation. "It was dangerous, especially because you didn't know what was happening. Far more dangerous than just letting the disease run its course."
"She won't get sick anymore," uncle Gin pointed out, and a mug was thrown at him by uncle Phi, who muttered some remark about bloody eyes.
"Takara," my father called and I focused on him immediately. "Finish your breakfast."
It was a clear message that the conversation was over and everyone returned to their food, then cleaning up after. The next few days went by smoothly, with no one allowing uncle Gin to be alone with me after he asked about some sort of training. The day of their departure came too quickly for me, which was when my mother unveiled a bit of bad news.
"Granny Jeeb is sick," she informed the family over breakfast that morning. "She sent a message this morning that she can't watch any kids for several weeks."
Silence reigned for a moment.
"Can I come with you?"
"No," five voices responded automatically.
Aunt Fae had just finished his breakfast and rose. "Check around town. One of elders might know." He was gone a second later, moving so fast that my eyes had a hard time following him. The fact that I could follow him seemed strange.
"Slow today?" I asked my mother's lover as I glanced at the door.
The woman glanced at the door also then at me. "No, you're just getting faster." She leaned against my mother then and whispered something, and my mother gave me a slightly searching look.
Aunt Fae returned ten minutes later, a sour look on his face. "Found something. Elder's wife."
Uncle Lin sighed deeply. "Probably just wants us to hurry and not have to hunt for a babysitter."
Aunt Fae shrugged while my mother rose. "I'll get her bag."
I watched her head towards the short hall that led to the two other rooms in the house before glancing at my father. He had another book in hand at that moment and I felt a burning itch to try to read over his shoulder, even if I wasn't at the right reading level yet. He had been pushing my education forward at a steady pace ever since I had taken the initiative in learning to read, but I wouldn't have called it anywhere near a well-rounded one. Then again, my father likely thought that he was just dealing with a bright 2-year-old.
My mother returned with my bag then, and handed my bear to me.
"Thanks mom," I chirped, drawing a smile from her and an irritated look from her lover.
The walk to the elder's house was quiet since it was just my mother, her lover, and me. It surprised me when, while my mother spoke to the elder and his wife, her lover pulled me aside.
She looked me straight in the eye and it occurred to me rather suddenly that I didn't know her name or have a title to refer to her by. She had always avoided being named, deftly turning conversations while she was in the room. It was why she was always just my mom's lover in my mind.
"Be mindful of people," she started then paused. "Don't wander off and…" Her eyes softened at that moment, and she suddenly pulled me into a hug. "Let this feeling be wrong."
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The elder and his wife were decent people who obviously cared for the people of the town. Part of that care extended to doing what was necessary to ensure that things ran smoothly for those who were the supporters of the community. Whatever my family did, they helped ensure that key supplies could be brought in and with the chicken pox outbreak, a lot of people had been mobilized.
So, it was no surprise that there were a lot of children that needed to be watched; the house where I was left had taken in eleven not including myself. The elder's wife, Uta, wasn't just overwhelmed, she was being utterly crushed. She did manage to do one thing though: a thorough check-up when I arrived to ensure I was clear of the pox.
"Alright, you look mostly healthy," she stated after pulling up my shirt sleeves and the front of my shirt, checking my skin for any marks. Keeping my shirt raised, she turned me around to check my back and made a light noise. "That's a birthmark to be proud of."
I knew I had a birthmark, I just didn't know what it looked like and its location just above my right shoulder blade made it impossible for me to check, especially since there seemed to be no mirrors here. My family found it amusing whenever I asked about it.
"Why?" I asked, but a screaming match started then in the next room and Uta waved me off.
"You're not sick, so stay out of the room with the red sign," she instructed. "If you get itchy at any point, tell me."
Yes, she was definitely overwhelmed. I might have been holding still, but I was still in the form of a not-quite 3-year-old holding a teddy bear. Granny Jeeb had at least tried to put me in a supervised group. I wasn't the only kid that walked out the door less than ten minutes later.
The last couple of days with my family had been great, but I was always brimming with some sort of new energy and considering that the atlas I'd found before was a fair distance away, I took off at a run.
It seemed that the world went in slow motion at that point as I tore through the streets of the desert town, heading towards the rubbish heaps. Behind me, a surprised yell rang out and I glanced back to see several older kids staring.
The atlas was right where I left it, though some loose papers and sand had covered the pages. I wiped those off quickly before lifting the book and glancing around for some sort of shade.
"Hey!"
I spun immediately to face the direction the voice came from and relaxed when I saw it was one of the older kids I had passed minutes before. He was still a fair distance away and was running hard to close the space.
"Man, you're fast!" the boy declared with a grin as he finally slowed down, breathing hard. "Me and my friends are playing 'Bandits and Outsiders,' wanna be on my team?"
"Hey!" another voice called and I realized that the rest of the kids had come running also. "You don't get her just cause…" The second boy trailed off as he got a good look at me, his eyes moving from my small frame to my teddy bear to the thick book I held. "That's just a baby! Man, and right when I thought we'd have even teams!"
"She's faster than you!" the first boy argued. "I bet we'd beat ya hands down with her on my team!"
"Ha! You and your team couldn't win even if you had an actual bandit helping you!" the boy shouted back.
I stared at the square off, mildly amused at the two boys who were maybe six or seven years old. Their argument was actually rather cute, but the second boy kept referring to me as a baby in his arguments and I had energy to burn.
"How do you play?" I asked.
The first boy turned automatically. "You have two teams, the bandits and the outsiders. Three places are picked: the mansion, the base, and the jail. Bandits hide and then try to get to the mansion then the base. Outsiders try to catch them. If caught, they go to jail! A bandit can be freed from jail by being tagged by another bandit who isn't in jail."
The second boy chose to speak up then. "We already have teams, so the baby is on Rick's team. And we're the bandit-"
"We already won the coin toss!" the first boy, Rick apparently, declared hotly. "We're the bandits this round!"
The yet unnamed boy scowled darkly but relented and several minutes later they had chosen a vacant shack to be the mansion, a brick heap to be the jail, and a heap of wood to be the base. The outlander team gathered around the base and began to count, so I ran with the bandit team to find a hiding spot.
Hiding in what essentially amounted to a junkyard is tricky business. There are plenty of places to hide, especially if you're small, but many risks to consider. The 'safer' places to hide are very obvious, while the better places can be dangerous. I realized that as I watched another girl, this one a fair bit older than me, scramble over a debris heap to hide in a large tire. The pile shifted alarmingly beneath her.
Running a bit further out, I clambered up a pile of trash that swayed a bit then leaped, surprising myself when my jump carried me farther than expected and rather than landing on the other side of the pile, I was over halfway up the next.
Grinning, I climbed to the top of that then ducked down and used the vantage point to check for the other players. The top of the girl's head who had hidden in the tire was just barely visible and the other team had finished counting and were beginning their search.
I lost a smile when one boy lost his footing on a pile of trash and came up covered in greasy-looking bits and ends. It didn't matter if I was technically possessing the mind of a 23-year-old who studied Microbiology and previously had her eyes on medical school and thus had a pretty good idea of how nasty that was; it was still funny.
As the kids wove through the garbage piles, I saw the girl and one of the boys on my team slither from their hiding spots, preparing to run for the mansion. They were too far away for me to get a good look, but the girl had black hair and the boy was blond. I followed them with my eyes as the girl managed to make it to the mansion, but the boy was caught before he got even halfway there.
As the boy was marched to jail, under guard by one of the other kids who then remained stationed on the approachable side of the jail, I glanced around. My eyes caught on Rick as he tried to sneak over a pile, staying out of sight of the kids who prowled on the ground.
Studying the terrain again, I noted another spot on a garbage pile that was closer to the mansion, and the jail. I also noticed that the other team was starting to congregate closer to the mansion. Using the momentary clear, I abandoned my perch and surprised myself yet again as my jump took me halfway to my destination. Another jump took me halfway up the pile and I heard a choke. Glancing down, I saw Rick had circled around and was scaling a pile nearby. Currently, he was gaping at me.
A shout cut through the air at that moment and I scrambled up my pile, checking around that I hadn't been seen. I hadn't been, but there were some strange adults that had appeared, two of them having grabbed a kid each. The others reacted immediately and aggressively, the girl in the 'mansion' abandoning it in order to grab a brick to strike at one of the men.
Grabbing a pipe near me on the trash pile, I jumped down in order to try to help. Rick was ahead of me and held a board in his hands.
We didn't even get close. There was a whistling sound and Rick stumbled as he was hit with something. My eyes quickly caught sight of the red dart in his shoulder as I looked him over while passing him and I tried to change my trajectory too late. The whistling sound came again, then I felt a sting in my arm.
It is shocking to know you've been shot, even more so when you realize it's a dart and you only have a few minutes at most to do something. My first thought was to get help, but attempting to turn towards the city sent the world swimming in a sideways dance.
"Gotcha!" a voice declared, and it was like déjà vu from just days before, but this time it wasn't my uncle picking me up. This person looked nothing like my uncle: his hair was short and close cropped with eyes that looked cruel.
"Man, this one is gonna be tough! Still awake!" he declared as he tucked me under one arm then turned to gather Rick. Rick was unresponsive.
"Don't care, at least two of those brats got away. Gotta get outta here before the entire city's on us!"
My head was spinning along with the world now. My grasp on my bear was barely there and I focused everything on keeping that as the world blurred. There was plenty of cursing and the sounds of scuffling rose in several directions, but I couldn't see it.
Then the movement stopped though the world continued to spin. A second later, the man carrying Rick and me tossed us into a shaded area where there were several other moving bodies that yelped or groaned.
Something closed and everything went dark. The movement around me increased and I groaned as I dragged my bear to my chest and locked my arms there. What had happened?
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457293?view_adult=true&view_full_work=true#main
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