"Death"

Reika flipped the card that rested snug between her index and middle finger to face him. It depicted a tall, skeletal figure which was cloaked in black with a hood over its skull, from which flowers dangled from its eye sockets. It stood barefoot with grass growing beneath its toes. It held a scythe in its left hand, while its right hand was suspended high above his head, holding up three bony fingers.

"So… That's an omen?" Asked Kurapika darkly. He could see the many ways that he would fall and ultimately succumb to a terrible fate at the hands of the Phantom Troupe. It was a logical possibility. However, it was a logical possibility that he would not accept, no matter whether the chances weighed in his favor or not. Afterall, if he did accept that perfectly capable possibility, he'd be among the many who live in fear of the Troupe. And, if he lived like that, there would be no possibility that he could prevail.

"Well, that's what most people believe." She placed the card in front of him. "But I'd urge you to look closer. You see, the signs are obvious if you understand the art of Tarot. Anyone can do Tarot readings, regardless of psychic ability. The cards do the work for you, but they do not read themselves. Many assume the worst of this card because they take it at face value, but if you look here-" She pointed to the skull of the figure on the card, where brightly colored daisies bloomed. "When there is an end, there is always a new beginning. Death cannot survive when there is no life. And so, they work together harmoniously, creating a perfect cycle, like the phases of the moon." Kurapika noticed as she explained that he quite liked the sound of her voice despite the weird, fairy-like way that she carried herself. What she was saying made perfect sense to him, so her strange personality hardly bothered him. She continued her odd tangent, tapping the waning yellow moon that was above the skeletal figure in the starry sky. "The waning crescent is the last phase before the moon cycle begins anew. Death to the previous cycle. The waning moon also represents the Crone, the last stage of life a woman will experience before we fall into the gentle hands of death. So, as you can see, the card Death does not necessarily represent death in a literal sense. What this card intends to say is that, this gruelling phase of your life as it is now is coming to an end and that, you're being prepared to be reborn into a new, more prosperous cycle. It intends to say that great change is coming to your life, very soon."

Kurapika raised a brow. Obviously, he had much preferred this interpretation. Unexpectedly, her weird readings actually began to interest him, he was one to prefer logic and reason over what most would consider pseudoscience. But, unlike the card that she held out in front of him, he did not take her at face value. Like Neon, Reika must be a specialist- and he'd be stupid to disregard her credibility. The parallels that he made between Reika, Melody and Neon made him feel much more confident about this interaction. Like Melody, she was gentle and kind, But, like Neon, she also seemed a bit naive. But regardless, her power was clearly great, and her words were so incredibly accurate, which made him wonder…

'In what way could I use this to my advantage?'

"Impressive." He admitted. Her face lit up as if she was proud of herself. "But, I don't believe in the ghost nonsense." She laughed.

"Well, that's quite alright with me. I'm just happy to help." She gave him a warm smile. She seemed genuinely delighted, and so Kurapika felt comfortable enough to ask her what he needed to know.

"I hate to ask more of you, Reika. But I was wondering… how specific can your readings be?"

"As specific as you need them to be, but it'll cost time, and there are limitations, of course."

"And those limitations are?"

She chuckled and stood. "Depends on the reading in question." She then walked past him to look out the window as the rain began to clear. "Kurapika, I sense that in the future we will be doing business together. Is that interesting to you?" She turned to look at him, her reflective eyes glittering.

"Seeing that I have no payment I can offer you, I'm afraid 'business' isn't possible."

"Well, we can call it something else then, if that suits you better. A partnership, maybe?"

"Why would you want to help me for free?"

She didn't respond for a moment. She clearly guessed his intentions, he was interested in her services. But, he didn't want her to work alongside him like she seemed to be implying. She had nothing to do with the ongoing fight between himself and the Phantom Troupe. Her "sight" would no doubt prove no purpose in a fight.

"I don't understand much about you," Said Reika as the sun began to shine behind the clouds that now began to part. "But weeks upon your arrival, I knew that you'd be here. And I also knew that whatever forces that you're up against, even if I don't understand it, I know that they're capable of claiming the lives of many and I fear-" She cleared her throat as her voice raised in intensity. "I fear the involvement of someone I'm… familiar with."

Kurapika's eyes shot up to meet hers fiercely.

"What do you mean by that, Reika?"

Her attitude had changed, she seemed a little sad now and her eyes were somber and almost tired-looking. "I can't tell you. Not until I know for sure. That's why I need to see more. I've only seen short visions."

"Who do you suspect?" He asked in a sharper tone. "I must know, especially if they might be a Spider-"

"Now, I'll remind you that I don't know what that means." She replied. "I couldn't tell you if this person is a Spider if I don't know what that means, can I? But I won't tell you who this person is if they aren't relevant to you." She looked him in the eyes, and when he did not respond, she continued. "Neither of us can benefit without mutual cooperation, don't you agree?"

He sighed and readjusted himself in his seat, crossing his arms. "Yes."

"So then perhaps I could have a turn asking questions, then? My readings are most accurate when I have context. As long as you can work with me right now, with as much information you can provide, I can get you everything you'll need to know by tomorrow afternoon."

Kurapika pondered this for a moment. He'd certainly love whatever information she could provide, although the concept of a "reading" seemed vague to him. He also didn't enjoy the idea of a partnership with her when she had hardly a clue what he was truly up against. No, he wouldn't allow a partnership. He was sure as soon as she realized that it was the notorious Phantom Troupe he was dealing with, she'd change her mind. He just hoped, with whatever intel she could give him about the Troupe and whoever this "familiar person" was, that he might have amazing leverage.

"I believe we have a deal" Kurapika replied. "Let's benefit each other… but under certain terms."

"And what might those be?"

"After tomorrow, after this reading… we will never meet again, and we will never speak again."

She faced away from him toward the window from which he could see her reflection. She did not look pleased, in fact it seemed that he upset her just a little more. Although her feelings were irrelevant to his objective, he did feel a little guilty, and he didn't really understand why. He figured it was because she was being so kind to him, that to outright disappoint her made him feel a bit like he was using her. But, he reminded himself that regardless of how she felt, in the end they would benefit each other and that one day she'd probably just forget about him. She turned around with a fake smile.

"Then you should begin by explaining to me what it means to be a Spider, and perhaps you could also explain-" She pointed at the bag on his hip. "To whom those bright red eyes in there belong to?" Or if that's too much trouble, you could just let me hold them so I could see for myself."

Kurapika didn't quite understand what he meant. Interested (yet cautious), he dug into his bag and pulled from it the clear jar that held the pair of bright red eyes. They floated up and down aimlessly in formaldehyde as he set them down ever so gently onto the table in front of him as his heartbeat quickened and vision flashed in and out of a red haze. She came around toward him, pulling her chair from across the table closer to where he sat. He watched her with extreme care as she held out her dainty hands to hover over the jar. He watched her as she gently placed her hands onto the glass of the jar.

Then, she gasped.

She brought them past the Guest Gallery toward another open space where many chairs and tables were arranged around a closed bar. While the others followed her (sticking closely to Chrollo), Phinks and Feitan straggled behind, making sure to keep just enough distance to be unheard by the others.

"Did you fucking see that? Did you fucking see what she did?" Phinks whispered to Feitan with an aggressive tone as they walked. "The Boss asked us to collect our blood so that he could feed it to that lunatic?" He gestured vaguely to Winona.

"Lunatic." Spoke Feitan slowly. "People like to call us that word."

"Are you not fucking concerned?"

"I am."

"Then why are you not freaking out right now?"

Feitan raised a brow at him. "Look at Boss." He nodded toward Chrollo, who walked beside Winona with eagerness. "He knows her. He is unbothered."

"But look at how she looks at him. Doesn't it seem like she hates him or something?"

Feitan said nothing. He did indeed notice her attitude of distaste toward their leader, and he also noticed that Chrollo seemed to be trying hard to use the strange alluring charm that he often used to persuade other females to do his bidding. But, it seemed to have no effect on the red head. Instead, it seemed to annoy her. It was strange, Feitan had never seen the Boss's flirtatious advances on a female fail before.

"Fei, stop and think for a minute." Said Phinks as he tugged on Feitan's sleeve to stop him from walking further. "If she knows the Boss well, she's probably got some crazy unique Nen abilities. And if she doesn't like us or the Boss-"

"Are you scared?" Feitan mocked, amused. He glanced toward Winona, who seemed scrawny and delicate to him.

"No, dickhead. I'd just like to know what her Nen can do with our blood. It certainly seemed valuable to her."

"Then we ask Boss later." Feitan then resumed walking at a quickened pace until he caught up with the others, leaving Phinks behind to bite his dust and curse him under his breath.

They collected in the back of the room where there were several large arched doors that were propped wide open as if presenting its contents to them. It was a ballroom, magnificent in size, sectioned in isles that she walked them into. The floor was made of hard, black stone with gold detailing. Instead of walls at the perimeter, there was stained glass that spanned from the floor to the ceiling; which was painted black with white glittering specks, designed to replicate a starry night time sky. The exhibits for each Artist were sectioned off in cubicle-like structures, which held the creations on its walls and many pedestals.

"Here you have D'artagnan-" Spoke Winona as she stopped briefly at the first exhibit, which featured amazing creations: paint droplets that floated in the air, held up with the creator's Nen like glue to the air. It was marvelous, and to non Nen users, it likely looked like it was free floating there by the power of magic. They formed three dimensional images, ranging from everyday objects to realistic human faces. "It is argued that his work popularized art crafted with the use of Nen. But, his art isn't the finest here. Don't tell him that though, that man's got an obnoxious ego. He's a manipulator like many of the rest of us, but his Nen has no use for anything besides his art." She explained.

"Fantastic, Winona. Your expansive knowledge is impressive." Chrollo responded. Feitan noticed that their leader's enthusiasm prompted a strange look from Machi, who had her arms crossed and lips pursed. Although she'd never admit it, everyone in the Troupe knew that she harbored special feelings for their leader. She often got jealous when it was necessary for the Boss to court a woman for the Troupe's benefit. Feitan thought it was mildly entertaining, but he was more interested in what was on display the next booth over.

Winona rolled her eyes and ignored Chrollo, bringing attention to the next booth. "This is among the more valuable to you: Kai Natsuri. I know him well. Recently he's offended me, and I have no care for what happens to him or his work. You may do as you please." She motioned to the exhibit carelessly. But Feitan thought it was something that was more up his alley. The art consisted of animated taxidermy. Animal parts were put together to create brand new creatures, who's limbs moved with the help of Nen.

"Well, I'll see to it that he, and his creations, are taken care of." Said Chrollo proudly, earning a scowl from Machi.

"Drop the act, would you please, Lucilfer? I'm bored of it by now." Winona responded.

Chrollo laughed playfully while Winona went on to show them the next exhibit. As they followed, Feitan wondered if the Boss meant to annoy her purposely.

"Hey what's up with this empty one over here?"

The empty exhibit of which Nobunaga referred to was at the end of the ballroom. Winona promptly skipped the other exhibits and went straight to this one, standing close by to Nobunaga as she explained.

"This space is reserved for Lucius Dupont. She has an art you cannot see, but can hear. Unfortunately, her art is worth nothing. But, if you're interested in a good sum of ransom money, her head is the one to go for."

"Now, that is all fine and well, Winona. You've exceeded my expectations. But, I was wondering- Where is your exhibit?"

"The other side of the ballroom. I was placed in a closed exhibit, you see."

"What's a closed exhibit?" Asked Shizuku from the booth opposite of them, examining a set of moving portraits with a finger to her chin.

"It's for the artwork that isn't considered friendly to those faint of heart." She explained dully. "Artists whose subject matter are considered particularly gruesome are shunned, but are valuable nonetheless. We attract those with darker interests. Nobody would dare confront us about the ruckus we cause with our content. So they shove us away where they cannot see, so that they may pretend that we don't exist. I think it's fun."

Feitan perked up, clenching the canvas in his pocket with interest. Either she was playing up the intensity of her craft, or she was telling the truth. He was a bit intrigued, but he kept his head facing away from her and pretended to not listen.

"Could you bring us there?" Asked Chrollo after a moment of quiet. "I'd like to see how you've improved since I last saw you."

She pondered a moment before responding, giving a smirk from the corner of her mouth as if something about what he said was an inside joke. Then, she looked around as if mulling over the idea in her head. Some of the Troupe members exchanged confused looks until she finally said:

"No, I don't think I will." Chrollo looked as if he expected this answer. "Not today anyway, my exhibit isn't complete yet thanks to all the preparation I've put into this little extravaganza you have planned for the 4th. No, I don't expect to have anything in order until the night before."

"I see."

"That'll be opening ceremonies, where I expect all of you here in formal attire to attend the artists party as my guests."

"You want us to party with you?" Asked Phinks, clearly unamused and sending her a sharp, untrusting glare. Winona laughed and began to part ways with the group. Chrollo stayed, and so the Troupe did not follow.

"You may party yourselves for all I care. Hell, take advantage of the bar, eat free food, whatever." She then did something that Feitan thought was odd. She paused for a moment to look at him. They met eyes, and Feitan felt… something. It was as if his blood ran warm, then cold, then warm again. She then glanced down at his pocket, where he held the little fabric canvas in his hand. She blinked, then suddenly looked away and cleared her throat. "What matters is that you're all here the night before, so I can brief you all on what is to happen the night of the 4th." She then, turned away slowly, and began to walk away.

"A-Are you leaving so soon?" Asked Chrollo with a confused laugh.

"What does it look like?" She shouted from the other side of the ballroom as she turned briefly to face them before ducking out of sight. "Have fun on your tour, Lucy!"

"Lucy…?" Shizuku wondered aloud.

"Who's Lucy?" Asked Franklin.

They all turned to their leader expecting some sort of explanation. With a sigh, he made sort of a nostalgic expression.

"Ah, yes. That would be the obnoxious nickname she gave to me awhile back."

Despite his outwardly pleasant demeanor, Feitan could sense a slight shift in his leader's expression of mutual resentment toward the girl. To him it seemed that the two must really enjoy annoying each other.

Even so, it certainly baffled him that she had gotten away with talking to the Boss like that. Even stranger, It seemed that she noticed him fiddling with the canvas in his pocket. He began to wonder a lot about this girl named Winona. Why is it that when she looked at him, his veins felt like they were fluctuating in temperature? The way she spoke to the Boss, and the way she so boldly drank their blood, the way that she outright rejected Chrollo's advances- there was something off about her.

Yes, he'd certainly be keeping a very close eye on her.

Thank you for reading thus far. I thought I'd express gratitude since I really didn't expect anyone to care much for this fic. Also, I apologize for the slow beginning but it was necessary for me to have a buildup since there is so much information to add with two OCs and such. Anyways thanks for being here, please review if you have any comments. I hope you have a lovely day, wherever you may be! Xoxo - Melon