ECHOES BEYOND THE DOOR || Hisoka X OC

025 || The Weight of Questions

Quasar stepped into the blimp's dining hall, her boots barely making a sound against the smooth, polished floor. The room was spacious, lined with its long tables and chairs bolted to the floor. Large windows stretched along the walls, offering a view of the endless sky as the blimp drifted through the clouds. Overhead lights cast a bright glow, and the faint hum of the engines was a constant background noise.

Her eyes immediately darted to the far end of the room, where a serving table displayed trays of food. A dull ache gnawed at her stomach as the smell of warm bread and roasted meat filled her senses. After days with her meager supplies and drinking only water, her body practically screamed for sustenance.

She approached the counter, scanning the options. Her eyes landed on a tray piled with roasted chicken legs, steamed vegetables, and bread rolls. She grabbed a tray and loaded it quickly, adding a bowl of stew and a small pile of fruit at the end.

Sliding into one of the empty tables, Quasar exhaled heavily, her shoulders ached from days of tension, and the bruises and scrapes along her body throbbed faintly beneath her clothes. She ignored it, grabbing one of the chicken legs and biting into it without hesitation. The warm juices hit her tongue, and she nearly groaned in relief as she chewed.

She ate quickly, her focus entirely on the food in front of her. The bread roll was soft and buttery, the stew thick and savory. It was enough to momentarily drown out the exhaustion pressing down on her.

Halfway through her meal, a sudden crackle from the blimp's intercom system made her freeze mid-bite. The voice that followed was recognizable, Beans.

"I have an announcement for all applicants. The chairman wishes to interview the remaining candidates. When your number is called, please come to the first reception room, on the second floor. Then, we will start with #44, Hisoka."

Quasar swallowed hard, lowering the chicken leg as her thoughts churned. She leaned back in her chair, the edge of the table pressing lightly against her ribs as she stared down at the half-eaten tray of food in front of her. Her fingers tapped idly against the smooth surface, her mind wandering despite her efforts to keep it silent.

The announcement replayed in her head like an echo that wouldn't fade. An interview?

Her brows furrowed, and her gaze drifted toward the cafeteria entrance. What kind of interview required the chairman to personally oversee it? The entire exam had been grueling, testing their physical and mental endurance, but this sounded different.

Was it another test?

The thought lingered, sharp and persistent. The Hunter Exam was brutal—she knew that by now—but there was something unsettling about this. The phrasing alone was enough to put her on edge. An interview. It implied judgment. Evaluation. They'd been fighting tooth and nail for survival, and now they were expected to just... sit and talk?

Her eyes narrowed slightly as unease coiled in her stomach. Was this about their performance? The kills?

Her mind flashed back to the bodies she'd left behind—the man in the tower, the others on the island—and she swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. Would they question her about that? Would they test her further, try to dig into her reasons?

She forced herself to breathe, pressing her palms flat against the table to steady herself. No—if it was about the kills, then almost everyone here had something to explain. It wasn't just her.

But that didn't ease the tension pulling at her shoulders.

Her thoughts turned briefly to Hisoka. He was first, and if anyone had a questionable performance worth scrutinizing, it was him. She couldn't imagine the chairman—or anyone, for that matter—being able to rattle him, though. Hisoka wasn't the kind to let anyone get under his skin. If anything, he'd probably enjoy the opportunity to toy with whoever was asking the questions.