I am here today to do right by this fandom.

That's right, I'm here to do what no one has dared to do ever before, and that is to treat this series somewhat similar to how the author did. With respect.

No more "Stuck with the spiders"! No more "Hisoka is obsessed with me"! AND NO. MORE. FUCKING "I'm from a massacred clan and I happened to attempt the hunter exam at 12 years of age, and happened to become best friends with gon and killua"!

I won't stand for it, and with that, here is my hopefully decent attempt at a real hunter x hunter fic.



"Now where was I?" I asked myself, as if I had just been in the middle of a derailing conversation, or an interrupted one at least.

But I didn't remember what I could have possibly been talking about, or who I could have possibly been talking to. It was like a movie scene, and the shooting began right at that crucial moment where I would bring back the previous conversation with something like a,

"So there I was..." or something similar.

But there was nothing, and I couldn't even remember the names of any movies that used that trope.

All I knew is that I probably wasn't where I used to be, because induced amnesia in the middle of a group this diverse and obviously split between acting as host and... something else, probably wasn't something that would go ignored. And so, assuming that no one else knew what a life-changing moment had just passed, I didn't make any sudden, or odd moves. I didn't change my body language much from what it already was, I didn't bother with any kind of expression, just leaving my face blank, and I began to observe, subtly, with glances.

I started with people. From highest authority, descending. An old man with a beard, looking highly amused, flanked by a dozen men in suits and sunglasses- protection? That brought up the question of what he'd need protection from. No guns on his guards, so they likely weren't worried about armed opposition. Stop tunneling.

There was a distinct lack of formal clothing. Glancing around, I spotted a clown, a man dressed in black chest armor and shoulder pads, with a red scard, a few kids, and a three meter tall man with his belly hanging out of his shirt, flanking a hottie in jeanshorts and a bikini under fishnet.

A motley crew.

But what were we doing here?

There wasn't any clear indication, as far as I could tell. Everyone was just standing around, waiting for something that I suspected I'd have to wait for as well in order to catch a clue on what's going on.

I realized now that the old man was looking straight at me all of a sudden.

"Gittarackur, versus, Killua!" he announced. I had no clue which of the two names represented whoever the hell I'm supposed to be, but his look was a pretty clear indication of who he expected to step up, and so I did.

This whole sort of circle thing we had going, and the whole, "Versus," thing was starting to clue me in on what this gathering was supposed to be.

Some kind of fight ring, maybe illegal, but the hosts were probably rich enough to ignore that.

My opponent in this future bout stepped up, and I unconsciously cocked my head- uncomfortable to do-, mainly confused. I'm fighting a kid? I was so sure somebody was having a bring-their-child-to-work day. Regardless, this is probably not okay. I'll just surrender it and see what happens.

The old man yelled, "Begin!" just a second before I told him.

"I surrender."

The kid looked like someone had slapped his drink out his hand, ready to fucking throw it down.

I found it highly amusing, it was as if he thought that he actually stood a chance against me, a full grown man like twice his height. I almost laughed as I watched him swallow down a tantrum, and walk away.

He joined a group of two, a blonde boy a little bit taller than him, and a middle aged guy in a suit.

I returned to my corner, only now noticing a man lying- probably unconscious I realize now that I am a bit more aware of the context of this situation- slightly behind the line of guards, and now that my fight had wound down, the slightly upbeat mood of the room died down to boredom as we waited for him to wake up.

A second glance around revealed a tournament block on a small whiteboard close to the old man, with pictures on it underneath the brackets.

Looking at every picture I realized something.


What the fuck was I doing with my life before whatever the fuck had just happened to me?! I swear to whatever diety reigned above us, I'd remove these needles if it was the last thing I did.

Then something inexplicable happened.

I couldn't explain it if I tried.

All of a sudden, as I stood there on my lonesome, absorbed with my own thoughts, almost like feeling hot where a beam of sun had been glaring at you through a pretty motionless canopy for half an hour as you sat still, it was just a feeling from a certain direction.

I turned my gaze in that direction and found the clown looking at me weirdly.

Of course the clown would be the only one familiar enough with this freak to recognize I'm not in character...

Outwardly, I just turned my gaze back to the ring in front of me, and stood listlessly.

Now how did I manage to pick up on a gaze of all things?

I didn't get to ponder that question, I suddenly had much more important things to do. Like analyze my competition, because despite knowing nothing about this thing, I wasn't going to lose it. It was obviously worth something, otherwise this body wouldn't have signed up for it.

I had figured out the way the tournament worked pretty quickly after seeing the beaten up old dude, and the bracket. It's just your average one, but reversed. That old guy had evidently gotten his ass beat, but he was still in it. That was the biggest clue.

"Fight!" the old man yelled, breaking my monologue.

The suit ran full force at the old guy, rearing back a punch for the whole world to see. The old man, in comparison, looked like a kung-fu master, in a fighting stance and all, calmly analyzing and waiting for the time to strike.

To me it was pretty damn obvious who was going to win.

It was made even more so when the suit threw his punch.

Slow, and it would glance off the jaw rather than impact it, even if the old man did stand still... I expected way more, considering the old man had managed to get beat unconscious. It was like watching a drunk take on a soldier, you already knew how it was going to end up.

The old guy ducked into the suit, letting the punch fly over his shoulder, as he let fly a punch, now completely unguarded from underneath, aiming for the jaw dead-on.

But only marginally faster, I observed. To me, it wasn't even moving that fast. Just to make sure it wasn't some kind of spectator only thing, I turned my neck in the only direction the suit could go to dodge this hit, and I easily managed to do it before it even landed.

And then it did, and the suit was sent flying, his own momentum working against him as his legs flew up while his head flew down, and hit the rock hard floor with a bang. Laid out flat in a single hit, and he had been waiting for this.

That's probably a concussion.

What a tragedy.

A guard came over and after taking his pulse, and checking to make sure he's out cold and not too injured, he declared him defeated, and slung him over his shoulder, bringing him over to the bed that the old guy had been using.

I almost sighed.

Back to waiting.

While I was waiting I discovered a handful of useful things.

The first was that the suit's name was Leorio. I learned this in the same way I learned the second very useful thing, and that was that my ears were sharp. The blonde and the white haired kid were probably ten meters away, mumbling, and I could still pick up on what they were saying. I was starting to believe that this body wasn't normal.

Apparently this is some kind of exam. Not sure what, but that helps validate my decision to win. Failing an exam is usually not that good of an idea, I think, at least.

I also learned that I was picking up on so many more looks and glances than I'd previously thought, but they were far more subtle than the one I got from the clown. every now and against someone would just glance over me, and that was the subtlest kind. Although, now that I was getting used to the feeling, I was able to pick up on it constantly, and differentiating it from someone actually looking at me and not just glancing over my general direction was tough.

That's quite some sensing ability, I must say.

Now that I was through with waiting I was quite glad that this guy had been knocked out. The context of this situation I was in was pretty much writing itself, and the longer I was here the more I started to understand it. The old man was referred to as the Chairman. Of what, I didn't know, while there was always hostility whenever someone happened to mention the name, "Hisoka,'' no clue why, though. Probably a good fighter.

I was starting to find this whole thing pretty fun, although maybe that was just my brain trying to cope with the situation. But it was like a puzzle that I was slowly working out. And after I finish solving this puzzle, there were probably dozens more for me to try to piece together, like my identity, and my weird sensing ability, and where the hell I actually was.

Finally my opponent was awake however, and I could confirm my previous test.

Was I really so much stronger than these people? I was about to find out, and I was excited to know.

"And now for the final match, Leorio, versus, Gittarackur!" he announced, bringing in the hype, and I was all for it. "Fight!"

Leorio was far more cautious this time around, and there was a desperate gleam in his eyes. His stance screamed couch boxer, and it was full of holes. He was standing flat on his feet, and his pants certainly weren't letting him bend his knees as much as he'd need to in order to achieve a stance I'd actually deem good, as if he'd even try that had they been looser.

By my examination, not a challenge, but I could be wrong. My neck and brain might just happen to eclipse the rest of my body when it comes to speed.

I didn't want to make a fool out of myself, so I took it slow and approached him leaning forward with my head the leading the charge, goading him to swing. If there was one thing I was confident in, it was my neck's ability to move out of the way of one of his swings, at least, therefore I wasn't particularly nervous.

When I finally was a step out of his range, he took a step towards me, stomping that foot down, throwing a fist straight at my face with a battle cry.

But it looked even slower in person. I casually leaned to the left, and his right arm flew past me, leaving his face open for the taking.

"Don't mind if I do," I figured, and swung pretty lightly, figuring his momentum would do the rest for me. That's not what happened.

When I said he went flying when the old man hit him, I was wrong. At that time, he wasn't sent flying, he just fell.

This, was what it meant to send a man flying, because Leorio's feet didnt touch the ground until after the wall had already greeted him.

And that's how Leorio lost consciousness for the second time that day.

Well... that was quite underwhelming.

"The winner is... Gittarackur! And that concludes the 287th annual hunter exam!"