The Abyss Stared Back
by SMYGO4EVA
Kurapika saw himself in the mirror, only sparing a passing glance. He had changed, even more so than he had realized. It was an inevitability, he knew that, that his reflection and what he had become. He had become a reaper, a murderer, who he had despised the most.
It came as no surprise to him. It was expected, being a Blocklist Hunter and one of the Nostrade family's bodyguards, he was bound to delve deeper into the underworld. He had seen the evil that humanity was capable of, and he no longer even flinched. Kurapika never let his guard down, especially when he had crossed paths with Hisoka.
Kurapika was wary of the magician, during the Hunter Exam and in Yorknew City both. He could curse, swear, loathe that man with every fiber of his being, and he wouldn't bat an eye. Hisoka was human, yet he was more like a demon. Underneath the guise of a harlequin, those golden eyes were imbued with darkness, his voice deep, oily, seductive, and his bloodlust nigh unquenchable.
He knew what he was getting himself into when he made an alliance with Hisoka back in Yorknew City, and they shared a common goal. Hisoka had set his sights on Chrollo, as did Kurapika, along with the rest of the Troupe. It sickened Kurapika to the very core, the magician's voice a whisper in his ear, coiling, snaking around him, never ever letting go.
It made him want to vomit, yet he needed answers. He needed to find the Troupe and make them pay for what they had done. They had to pay, and Hisoka was the only one closest to them at the time, a man on the inside. He had made a bargain with the magician, he knew that well.
Kurapika knew that there was no going back for him; he did what had to be done. Blood had painted his hands, and he still felt it, though it had been washed away for quite some time. But it wasn't enough, he was too far gone, and his teeth clenched in mental pain.
He was becoming just like the magician, and anger gripped tightly in his chest at that notion. He tried to calm his breathing, his heartbeat, but the very idea burned within him, repeating and repeating.
His eyes burned, burned the searing scarlet that they all had sought after. He was nothing like Hisoka, nothing like him. He didn't kill for his own sick pleasure, he didn't fight for the thrill of it, and he certainly never toyed with people. No, he wasn't a puppet, a toy played with and then tossed away, like they were nothing.
He would rather die than he became like them, before he became anyone's puppet. Not Hisoka's, not the Phantom Troupe's, or anyone else's.
Kurapika closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, air filling his lungs and exhaled quietly. Once he opened his eyes again, the scarlet hue faded.
Just for a fleeting moment, his eyes were as golden as Hisoka's.
