D A M N A T I O N ?
A Hunter x Hunter fanfic co-authored with fellow forum member and special title holder: Azile
Disclaimer: Hunter x Hunter and Yu Yu Hakusho are copyrighted by Yoshihiro Togashi, Shounen Jump Weekly, Shueisha and Nippon Animation
Author's Note: Azile came up with the idea for this fanfic. Even though I was the one who penned the words, Azile's contribution, in terms of ideas, phrases and scenes, was substantial. Her inspirations and ideas came to her after reading "Salvation". If anyone wishes to dispute the content of the fic, please do so at my forum: and start a thread under "Fanfic Discussion". I do not particularly care for your opinions about our ideas on religion but feel that even though we have put this disclaimer, discussion about our lack of faith is inevitable, hence if you do want to rant, please do so at the forum instead. However, the review board is open to comments on whether you believe that our portrayal of the Hunter characters is accurate or not.
Author's Note 2: As mentioned above, the overriding aim of this fanfic is an attempt to properly characterize the Hunter x Hunter characters when they are confronted by circumstances similar to the events in Salvation (notice that this fic is grouped under Humour/Parody). If you haven't already understood by now, the distortion in the spelling of Kristianity, Geezus, Lawd, etc as well as the alteration of some key facts, was an express act to direct any of my 'faithless' opinions on the Cult of Kristianity. You notice you can draw parallels and similarities between the Cult and the religion. I frankly do not deny the derivation, but I submit that my derivation has been altered substantially so as to make the Cult of Kristianity totally separate and distinct to Christianity - not that you'd want to be associated with this loathesome Cult who preys on vulnerable people anyway.
Kurapika makes some arguments in this chapter. The emphasis should be placed on the act of clinical, relentless arguing, which we believe is in Kurapika's character. You can disregard the contents of his words if you so desire. Kurapika incidentally gave us a chance to expouse our own beliefs and opinions, through him, in a way that was characteristic of him, we hope.
As for the passer by who contested our facts and told us to do research - if we wanted to launch a scathing criticism against Christianity, we'd write an essay, and be gorging ourselves on newspaper articles of pedophile priests being protected by the church hierarchy, but seeing as we're here to entertain, I'm going to use my authoritative creative licence to create a Cult that will act as the vehicle of humour. Thank you for finding this fic funny anyway. I find it almost difficult to believe that you can find a fic funny but consider the opinions, which made the fic funny, to be indecent. Maybe you could explain how that works in your next review.
Otherwise, I am very much surprised that people found the fic funny. Yomi is starting to get the idea that perhaps there's a funny bone the size of a little finger in him somewhere. As for the rant of the metafictive qualities of this fic, I'll leave that for the author's notes in the next chapter.
Summary: Yomi is pestered by his personal secretary, Azile, to masquerade as Geezus Krist and go to Ningenkai to gauge the reactions of the Hunter characters to his preachings.
Chapter: 2 / 4
Yomi fanned himself and fished inside his robes for his sleek, silver cellular phone, latest Gundara model, thumbing the number for Headquarters with expert familiarity. He panted inside the mask, but hesitated in ripping it off in case he couldn't fit it back on again, knowing how tight and uncompromising it was. At present, insufferable heat was still preferred to the fiendish surprises Azile would leave in Gundara's main server if he failed to finish this task.
He tried to slip a finger under the mask to allow some fresh air in there, prune-like his skin must be by now, but gave up. Someone picked up the phone after three rings on the other end and began with a casual "yello!"
"Azile, I think we should rearrange this plan of yours."
"Rearrange what?" his secretary barked.
"Well," Yomi grimaced, studying his list of checked boxes on the questionnaire with a perplexed frown, "I think this whole aggressive push-sale approach isn't working. I've been punched once already and – "
"Why didn't you duck?"
Yomi growled. "How can I duck when I'm blind in this stupid getup? Attention everyone! If you want to defeat Yomi, suffocate him with a rubber mask because absolutely no sound or smell can penetrate through the material and that leaves me no different to a pigeon in water!"
"The mask stays!" Azile growled back with commensurate ferocity. "Now what's this about the aggressive push-sale of the Cult?"
The blind youkai fell back to cooling himself with the sheet of paper and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Well, take Kurapika for example. I mean, if I got a king hit for pressing that 'dead friend' point with Leorio, do you expect me to return to Gundara with my limbs intact if I start dishing out judgment on Kurapika?"
"The key lies in the conviction! You have to persuade him that he's guilty of some crime. You have to induce him into thinking that he's a bad, worthless person for making his revenge personal – "
"Good on him," Yomi murmured in approval. He found his fingers stroking the artificial beard, and slapped that hand away. Adamant that the beard was an appendage that did not suit him, he was damned if he was going to develop the habit of stroking an imaginary beard after he burned the costume and pissed on the ashes.
"Your opinions on moral relativity don't matter. Get out of your Mr. Nice Guy mentality – you've got to fit into the part of the ruthless soul collector. The Cult of Kristianity is an intolerant, imposing Cult that allows no dissenting opinion – they used to burn unbelievers.
"Put pressure on your targets," and at this point, Azile began hissing and spitting. Yomi imagined that her forked tongue would be darting in and out between her pointy teeth in anticipation of tasting fear. "Make them feel like they're utterly unworthy to live on this earth without the Cult's assurances, convince them that they've been utterly ignorant to the truth. Once their fragile inner psyche is naked before you and they're nothing but insecure and broken creatures, move in for the kill and control their minds by instilling the fear of Hell into him."
"It'd probably be more effective to teach them to fear you," Yomi muttered.
"You just do your job, ok?" Azile snapped irritably, huffing and puffing at the insult. "Now remember, you haven't been near pushy enough. Kurapika is a cold, tough nut to crack. You'll need all your wits to get through this guy and impound into his brain that he's an ignorant, sinful, dirty little thief who will suffer the eternal furies of Hell if he refuses to sell his soul to us and embrace Gawd!"
Azile finished her speech with grandiose relish then slammed the phone shut, leaving Yomi to wonder why she wasn't the Overlord of Greater Makai right now with that insatiable ambition pushing her mind to brink of insanity.
A sigh whispered past his lips, and he stood up, wearily dusting his clothes free of the broken, brittle shells of acorns that he'd crushed with his weight. He had a premonition that Azzy's silly experiment would all end in scratches, bruises and fractures – on him, not the experiment.
Second Test Subject : Kurapika
Admittedly, the shopping complex was a welcome contrast to the heat of the outdoors. Air conditioners were switched on to full blast, and standing under the chilly air enabled you to feel the sweat evaporating off your back.
Yomi had been parked underneath one of vents for around ten minutes, reveling in the sensation of feeling dry and comfortable again when the high pitched squeal belonging to an adolescent teenage girl made his ears throb and head ache.
"Kurapika! Keep up! I still haven't gone through the lingerie section yet!"
"Boss, don't you think you're too young to need lingerie?"
It was a rigid and formal voice that should have belonged to someone much older, someone who had seen two dozen lifetimes of bloodshed. In Makai, it would be the voice of a hardened survivor, but in Ningenkai, Yomi supposed that this boy was viewed by his compeers as a walking icebox.
Persuade him that he's a bad, worthless person… impound into his brain that he's an ignorant, sinful, dirty little thief who will suffer the eternal furies of Hell if he refuses to sell his soul to us and embrace Gawd.
Yomi did his usual breathing exercises, visualized himself immersed in icy waters and imagined that his world was quiet and peaceful and his life naively perfect. He would have to forfeit his entire dignity to pull off the bastard act, which was quite ironic, given that he was disguised as the Grand-bastard of Gawd. So with the grit of the teeth and an extra deep breath, he summoned his youki to amplify his voice across the floor of the shopping mall and delivered his righteous condemnation.
In retrospect, the mask was a very good idea. At least his identity would be kept secret with so many eyes about to bore into his face.
"Kurapika! Repent for ye have sinned! Or face the wrath of Azil – I mean – the Prince of Darkness! Who is not a cool guy and does not live a cool place!" his voice reverberated across the shopping complex, rattling the large sheets of glass windows, for each and every person to hear. Shoppers' attention was generally divided into two questions: one, who was this bloody nutcase garbed, up to the beard, like Geezus Krist minus his fibreglass T, and two, who was this sinner, Kurapika, that Geezus spoke of and threatened to unleash Azil – I mean – the Prince of Darkness against?
Neon tugged at her bodyguard's sleeve and studied the image of Krist dubiously. "What do you think he wants to do to you?" she whispered. "A plague of boils, or a pox on your house?"
Kurapika patted her hand and motioned for Bashou to stay by Neon's side to grab her and run should the raving lunatic prove to be a decoy in a kidnap or assassination attempt. He assured his party that he could deal with the man, leaving them wringing their hands in worry, then made directly for the man still cursing him with fist-sized haemorrhoids and a mouth full of rotting teeth if he did not confess his sins, suffer the guilt and beg for his forgiveness.
The chains on his hand rattled, in sync with his emotions, but he quelled them down in case Yomi was just another mentally unbalanced man obsessed with the apocalypse. Wasn't it enough that the serial pest destroyed the Olympic chances of gold for the Brazillian marathon runner in the name of their damned Cult? Would they not rest until they ruined his life and career as well, and in a shopping mall to boot?
Kurapika yanked Yomi away to the most secluded place he could think of – the men's toilets, and banged on all the doors to check that there was no one inside the cubicles before locking the door to the bathroom.
"If you don't want to fully realize the horror of what a red-eyed Kuruta can do, you better tell me how you know my name. Are you a new Genei Ryodan recruit?"
Beneath the mask, Yomi was smiling with appraisal for the young man's calm. He had the same cold exterior that the infamous youko carried in his younger days, and the same calculating mind that ticked so loudly he could almost hear the thought process. But Azile's script had to be followed, the since the consequences of disobeying were unimaginable, Yomi sank further into bastardization.
"Sinner! Murderer! Ye have no place in society and your tainted soul is not fit for the glorious splendour of paradise in the afterlife! Condemned you are!"
Kurapika raised an eyebrow. "And?"
The nonchalant reply caused Yomi to stumble in his tirade. "Er…ye shall be terrorized by nightmares; guilt will eat away at your conscience for the rest of your miserable life; I curse you with unhappiness and call upon your inner demons to never give you peace and closure until you feel remorse and beseech my Grandfather, the Lawd Gawd for his mercy!"
"Why should I justify my actions to your gawd? My vendetta with the Genei Ryodan is my business. I'll deal with it. So, is there anything else you'd like to add?"
Again, the indifferent and abrupt manner of the young lad made Yomi panic over the ineffectiveness of the words. Were they not emotive and emphatic enough to deliver home the punch that was going to shatter the young man's self-confidence? His chest heaved and he racked his brains as he proceeded onto Dialogue C. He erased the harsh, accusing tone and replaced it by one of greatest sympathy and understanding.
"Then you must be burdened so, so terribly by your troubles and it pains me to know that you have sleepless nights. Poor man. Pitiable boy. You who have endured what no one has endured and cannot seek the solace of another who understands your pain.
"My son, I can offer you comfort, a way to inner peace and help you understand that everything that has happened was Gawd's will and Gawd's plan. If you confess your sins, you will have the absolution of Gawd and forever be warm and safe."
"You are treading on extremely dangerous waters," Kurapika warned, his fists tingling by both sides at the mere allusion to the Kuruta massacre. "I suggest that you do not accept liability for the genocide of my tribe. If your plan was to fuck up my life by killing, and mutilating thereafter, the ones I love, my vengeance will be more swift and terrible than the demons in your nightmares."
Yomi sighed dramatically. "Oh, pity the unbeliever. You need to believe in I, Krist your lord and saviour, and the almighty grace and power of my lawd grandfather, to understand that there was a reason for the deaths of the Kuruta folk. Their death was a test. Yes! A test that the all-wise and just gawd gave to you so that you would be guided to the doors of the Cult of Kristianity to seek your answers, and absolution, and finally rest in my arms."
"Not only did that sound perverted, do not tell me that I'm just a pawn in your gawd's sadistic little afternoon soap opera," said Kurapika testily. He had to cross his arms to contain his tempest emotions. "The Genei Ryodan are responsible for the annihilation of my people. If your gawd were so just, why haven't I seen the lightening bolts coming from the heavens to strike those murderers where they stand?"
"Do not seek to question the will of gawd!" Yomi inwardly cringed. "He works in mysterious ways that the limited human mind cannot possibly hope to fathom."
"Right," drawled Kurapika, "that's what all charlatans say when asked a difficult question. Blame it on the fantastic and that which cannot be scientifically proven. Blindly accept faith. That's not a good enough answer for me."
Yomi felt the overwhelming compulsion to clap and his chest almost burst from the effort of restraining his applause. But once again, the voiceover of Azile cut a vicious path through his approval and the reality of the task at hand prompted him to continue with his lines.
Really, it was bad enough that he was playing Grand-bastard, and now, he had to preach his bastardry in the men's toilets with the smell of chlorine so powerful that it managed to penetrate through his rubber mask, which had, so far, successfully filtered out everything else. How degrading did this gig have to get?!
He said, in a soft and patronizing manner, which really was degrading for the person on the receiving end, "Don't you believe that Gawd transcends the heretical art of science that we have allowed ourselves to be corrupted by? If so, I'm very sorry to hear that, but if you don't believe in Gawd, you will be burned by the eternal flames of Hell, and immortal worms will continuously eat away your body and you'll have be stare into the putrid face of Loosifer, the snake, and scream forever more."
Pause for a breather and to let the nightmarish depiction of hell sink in. According to the script, which was Azile's distillation of the essence of the Manual, once the Target was saturated with the fear of the raging infernos, move in for the kill and dangle the sweetener, which would act as a lifesaver to the target drowning in fear. It was almost laughable – he threw Kurapika into the ocean of guilt and fear, then turned the other cheek to reveal the saviour who would pull him back onto shore for the price of his allegiance and soul.
In some respects, Yomi mused during this dramatic, and fast becoming pregnant, pause, the Cult of Kristianity was impressive. On the one hand, they sought to exploit human emotional weakness, shamed humans into submission, and then propose that all is ok if they sold their souls to Krist and sang jazzy, upbeat songs abut the Lawd on an anointed day of the week in a specified building. Kristianity provided both the poison and the antidote, and on becoming familiar with the Cult's modus operandi, Yomi had to admit that he was no longer surprised that people would tend to react violently when he administered the poison that is shame and guilt of sin on the target.
Observing no visible reaction, Yomi grudgingly carried on his flailing performance, spread his arms and put a homely smile on his face. "Receive I, Geezus Krist, Grand-bastard of Gawd, as your lawd and saviour, and I will take your sins unto myself and ye shall be welcome in Paradise, a place of plenty, where no tears will be shed and the music of laughter is all you'll hear."
Kurapika's eyebrow twitched. The proposition was ridiculous, and it was insulting that Krist expected him to buy it. Even three year olds these days have more sense. He simulated Yomi's condescending tone, with a touch of admonition, and replied:
"I mean no disrespect, Geezus, but my tribe has its own religion, which is naturalist and personal with no established hierarchy and certainly no threats or intimidations for those with other beliefs. I'm comfortable with what I have, and I answer to my conscience, to myself and to the law of whichever jurisdiction I am currently passing through. I believe it is natural for evil to exist in this world so that we can truly appreciate the beauty of goodness. I think I'll become desensitised to and will devalue the perfection of Paradise rather quickly if there is no dichotomy."
Yomi silently wept. It was evident that his conviction was like butter dissolving into liquid fat on Kurapika's sizzling hot plate of self-belief and inner strength. No matter how many pebbles he threw, the two metre thick stone walls of Kurapika's inner psyche could not be damaged.
Yet the play must go on, or the wrath of Azile would be monstrous indeed.
"Ignorant fool! Dirty, sinful man!" Yomi made his voice boom again in the confined space, and the polished tiles had an uplifting effect and resonated his voice for an additional five seconds. His Finger of AccusationTM was levelled at Kurapika's impassive face. "Do you not know that my Gawd is the one true gawd? You worship a false idol, a mortal prophet who cannot compare to the Almighty Grace of my Grandfather! Heathen! You do not fully repent! Then so be it! I shall pray for you, but Hell hath marked you for your unfortunate end and Eden will be denied to you ever more!"
The steel ball hanging on the bottom of Kurapika's chain lashed out, more deadly than striking snake, missing Yomi's face by a bare millimetre, and smashed the mirror into a thousands of splinters and shards above the basin behind the youkai. Yomi froze. The muffled chimes of the chain dimly reached his ears, but apart from that, he had no ability to ascertain the precise location or movement of the weapon. His pulse quickened.
"How dare you insult the memories of my clan?"
Because I'm being extorted by the Paragon Bitch! Yomi wanted to wail.
Kurapika coldly continued, "You've sought to judge me, taunt me, intimidate me and cajole me into a false sense of security with your faceless Gawd. When I told you that I harbour my own beliefs, you ridiculed and belittled my belief?! You intolerant cretin. You selfish, ugly little creep. My conscience is in tatters already. I'm trying mend it, and you think it's acceptable to rub salt into my wounds just so I can become addicted and dependent on your fanciful remedies?!"
Yomi's shoulder's slumped. This was his last ditch attempt. "You just need to show remorse for your crimes and Gawd will forgive you and love you and you will be a happy human again."
The chain slithered back to the side of its owner as Kurapika sighed and the crackling tension in the atmosphere disappeared. "I don't need the forgiveness of Gawd. Your prepositions and promises of love and forgiveness…they mean nothing to me. It is not the forgiveness and love of gawd that matters – that would be too easy if all I had to do was feel remorse. What's easily gotten is not valued and thus not treasured. I need to earn the reassurance and respect from the people who are around me now: from my friends, my peers to my work colleagues. They are the ones who matter to me, it's the opinions of those living that affect my life and how I live."
"How can you turn away from my offer of salvation?" Yomi shook his head as was required of him by the script. "I will be stapled to the T for your crimes and relieve you of the guilt that you suffer under the weight of. My lawd grandfather will exchange the burden of your guilt with a light collar, hot pink in colour if you like, if you give yourself to him. It's a fabulous bargain."
He heard Kurapika's footsteps draw near, and he flinched, bracing himself for a blow on par with Leorio's. Kurapika however, patted him on the shoulder.
"In this world, there's nothing that I believe more than individual responsibility. You do the crime, you do the time and try to rectify the consequences of your actions after you learn of your mistakes. There's no easy way out, nor should there be – such is the way of life. My life and my destiny have been fashioned by my own hands – I won't wiggle my way out of this grave that I've dug for myself by unloading my responsibilities onto this 'gawd' or you, Krist, who got stapled to the T supposedly for my crimes. Thanks for the thought, but I love my free will, hence my crimes are my own and I will deal with them myself on my own accord and answer to my own expectations and conscience.
"You entice me with an unrealistic perception of the way the world should work and I believe only selfish people would find appeal in allowing a scapegoat to suffer for their own wrongs or fight their battles. I will never accept that. And you should not be so foolish to take humanity's sins upon yourself just so we can live irresponsible lives and look to you again if we stumble. You encourage reliance and dependency. I advocate naturalism and individuality and come what may in my life, it's unique and it's mine, and that is all that matters."
Yomi's bottom lip trembled. His voice sounded so weak and childish. "But what of the wrath of the infernos of Hell – it is very real, and it not a cool place and Loosifer is not a cool guy. You will be sent there and punished for not believing in me."
Kurapika shook his head in pity for Yomi. "No, that's only your belief. I hope that in the future, you'll keep your belief to yourself and not seek to impose it on people who don't ask for it. I must leave to chaperone my boss now. Take care, Krist, and take a good hard look at the people you want to be stapled for. If anyone is to be condemned, they are those who would want you to pay for their crimes. Selfishness should not be rewarded and it was very unscrupulous of the Cult of Kristianity to appeal to that side of humanity in order to attract followers. Remember, selfishness only begets ungrateful freeloaders. I urge you to reconsider your ethics."
Yomi's collapsed onto all fours and he hung his head in shame. The click of the bathroom door closing indicated that Kurapika had already left, more staunch and resilient in his own personal beliefs than ever.
He had been put to disgrace by a teenager. He had sought to pass judgement on the young boy, tried to drive the artificial stake of guilt into him in order to extract a remorse that would have rendered the boy vulnerable to further manipulation. And in the end, Kurapika replied with eloquence and civility under the barrage of his prejudicial insults.
Maybe another punch, to the other cheek, would have been preferable.
Author's Notes 3: There was a heck of a lot of talking in this chapter. I try to blame Kurapika, because he's quite a long-winded guy if you think about it. Anyway, to compensate for the lack of action and humour for this chapter, there will be an interlude next in which Azile allows Yomi to evangelize to people other than the four Hunter characters.