A/N: Ok, so this is a depressing, long chapter with a lot of gores. If any part makes you uncomfortable (especially for Phantom Troupe's fans), please skip to the end of the chapter. But I still desperately hope that you won't skip it because this is, by far, the most important climax of this YN arc. And gore is not my thing but this was just so important that I couldn't afford to half-ass it. Oh, and please bear with the multiverse sh*t, too. It'll shed some light on my idea towards the end of the chapter. Thank you for reading!
Finally, I want to thank my lovely beta reader RubberxAndxGum. You're such a blessing, girl!
Chapter 24: Lukso Valley
"Like a long lonely stream
I keep running towards a dream."
-A place in the Sun, Stevie Wonder-
Multiverse. Or parallel dimension.
A wild idea that scientists have fancied for a long time. A hypothesis that there are other realities beyond the one that we know, mirroring it but slightly altering it. It envisions our universe as only a part of something much stranger, terrifically grander. A larger picture with infinite analogous, coexisting pieces.
Physicists explained this phenomena as a result of enormous stretches of time and space that splitted the grand universe into parallel dimensions and defined them.
In these parallel dimensions, there would be different versions of you, the same you but with different courses of actions and alternative fates!
There were even witnesses proclaiming that they had somehow strayed from the current universe and unknowingly entered a different one. They found themselves living in another place, with strangers that they had no idea who they were or working at another department of the same company.
Whether the idea of multiverse was just a madness of science or it truly existed might forever remain a mystery.
But somewhere along the way, psychologists started foraying into the topic as a daring approach to explain hallucination. They suggested that if the multiverse existed, people who suffered from hallucination might be perfectly sane and it might not be a mental illness but a real possibility beyond the realms of human knowledge.
Sadly, most of the cases were, in fact, just a mental state, crude and simple as they were.
Hallucination often happens when someone desperately, persistently wishes to alter the course of his life, to undo what happened, to escape from his severe loss or trauma, to bend the one and only reality that he denies, to take on the role of a god and create his own comfort zone.
In this case, the more the person relies on the distorted versions of truth, the more he would be caught up in it, stuck on it.
Clandestia was woken up by a soft, boyish voice.
"Nee-san, are you alright?" The voice called.
She opened her eyes and was greeted by the sight of a boy around 11 years old. As her vision regained its focus, she realized that the boy was oddly familiar.
Dark brown hair. Dim maroon eyes. Matching maroon tribal clothes.
And those patterns on his clothes…
Her eyes instantly widened in horror.
Pairo! The deceased Pairo.
She reached out a trembling hand and immediately retracted it as soon as her fingers grazed his face.
Warm. Perfectly, humanly warm. He was undeniably alive, right in front of her eyes. And she was not mistaking him for someone else. She saw him in Kurapika's memories.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?" He asked, his dim eyes peered into hers with a hint of worry.
She just stared back at him, nonplussed. Then she looked around. Trees and logs surrounded them. The blue sky above their heads looked perfectly real. Sunlight was peeking through layers of branches and leaves. Her hands were touching the humid, moldy land beneath her. She heard the sound of insects crackling and birds chirping. She could even feel the chilling sensation of the forest wind caressing her skin.
It did not feel like a dream.
How did I get here? She thought. She was in Yorknew with a comatose Kurapika, trying to communicate with his subconsciousness, investigating his exotic earring.
Earring!… It probably had something to do with this!
Then a wild, crazy idea crossed her mind.
"Which year… is this?" She heard herself ask.
"Oh.. 1xxx, of course" Pairo tilted his head in confusion. The question sounded a bit foolish to him.
6 years ago? Clandestia grimaced.
She traveled back in time!
She couldn't be sure yet but unfortunately, it made perfect sense.
"Hey, are you alright?" Pairo asked uneasily. "Oh, I think you fell from up there and hit your head somehow." He motioned towards the cliff looming a few meters above them.
"You'll be fine. I fell down from there with Kurapika before." He smiled. "My head got hazy for half a day and then it's alright."
"Kurapika…" She uttered urgently. "Where is he?" If this was before the massacre of the Kurta clan, there's a possibility that Kurapika was still in the village.
"You know Kurapika?" Pairo asked. "Did you meet him? You're his friend?" His face brightened into a big smile.
"Yes… we're indeed friends." She replied with a perplexed expression. "He told me about you, Pairo." To be precise, he showed me the memories of you all in the far future, she thought.
And Pairo grabbed both of her hands.
"Is he doing fine? He's been out a few weeks already. He must be enjoying himself a lot, right? In the outside world?" Pairo asked with eager excitement.
"He'll be fine." She said, in future tense. But of course, being a kid, Pairo didn't catch on to its meaning.
"Nee-san, let's go to my home for the night. Our clan's healer can help you!" He rose to his feet and extended a hand to her.
Clandestia hesitated for a moment but took his hand in the end. She had to find a way to go back to her own time and now she'd better tag along with Pairo.
"What's your name, nee-san?"
"Clandestia."
Then they walked hand in hand, with Pairo going on and on about Kurapika and Clandestia answering his queries about the outside world with a tingling warm feeling. Pairo was a good kid and she could see why Kurapika loved him like his own brother.
By the time they reached the Kurta village, it was already sunset. Clandestia halted in her steps as her eyes fell on the scenery before them.
Lukso valley.
A secluded valley hidden from the outside world. The home of over a hundred members of the Kurta tribe. Kurta village of Lukso valley was resting under the soft, amber sky with hints of glittering stars colliding with the luminous orange sun. There were children running around, playing hide and seek. Young teenagers walking hand in hand. Elders sitting on the doorsteps waiting for their family to return. Their colorful, exotic tribal clothes danced in the wind.
And they were beautiful.
This small, peaceful village, adorned by wild flowers and greenery, looked almost preternaturally beautiful. She certainly had gotten a glimpse of this place in Kurapika's memories but she didn't remember it being this breath-taking.
And it was bittersweet knowing that the massacre would wipe out this lively place.
Then an overwhelming thought crossed her mind. If the jewel really sent her back in time, did it have a purpose for her to fulfill?
For sure, she just wanted to go back to her own time right now. To where her family and friends were. But now that she was sent back in time and met the Kurtas, could she prevent the massacre somehow? If it could be avoided, Kurapika would be free of his misery and all those incidents wouldn't happen in Yorknew. Though it was a wild hope and she hadn't figured out what to do, she felt that she shouldn't let go of this chance.
As they trudged through the village hand in hand, Clandestia noticed the Kurta passersby were hardly bothered by her presence. No questions asked. No curious glance. Just friendly waving and warm smiles thrown at Pairo and her direction. Though it was pleasant, considering the clan's reputation for being extremely weary of outsiders, something just did not add up.
"Nee-san, we're here." Pairo announced gleefully.
They were in front of a little house with a vegetable garden. Clandestia followed the boy inside. The living room was definitely small but cozy with a warm, woody smell. The smell of home, she concluded.
Whaaa…whaaa… They heard a baby's soft weeping.
"Ah! Pavati!" Pairo dashed into the bedroom, with Clandestia following behind him.
Pairo picked up the baby from the crib and the crying instantly subsided.
"Clandestia, this is Pavati, my baby sister." Pairo said, showing the baby girl to her with pure, innocent affection, mixed with a streak of joyful pride.
"Hi, princess." Clandestia couldn't help but smile. The baby cooed in her brother's arms, looking at him with her round, maroon eyes. Silky, wispy blond hair adorned her round head. Rosy pink cheeks looked like plums fresh off the tree.
As Clandestia was about to reach out to touch Pavati's irresistible chubby cheeks, there was a creaking sound at the doorway.
"Papa, mama!" Pairo put Pavati back in her crib and flew out of the room to greet his parents.
The father looked mostly similar to Pairo and the mother had blond hair like Pavati.
"Pairo, let's get ready for your birthday bash." His mother beamed at him lovingly.
Clandestia smiled as she followed him out of the room. So, it's Pairo's birthday. What a wonderful occasion for a first meeting. She thought.
"Okay!" He yelled excitedly. "And by the way, this is Clandestia, my new friend!"
Pairo's parents shifted their gazes to Clandestia. Or more like they looked at the spot where she was standing. She frowned. No, they were looking right through her! The smiles on their faces wavered, then turned into confusion.
"Pairo, dear, there's no one there." They said, finally settling into a disturbed expression.
Clandestia was frozen in shock. She saw Pairo look at her with his dim eyes widened. He just stared at her, baffled. And she recalled the peculiar way all the Kurtas looked at them on the way to Pairo's house. Her eyes instantly shot up in revelation.
None of them actually saw her!
"Clandestia, why can't they see you?" Pairo asked, his hands were now tugging at her side, equally disturbed.
"I… I don't know what's going on." She uttered, hugging her head.
Was this a dream? No, dreams couldn't feel this real. The warmth from Pairo's hands. It was reality!
In her utterly confused mind, she thought of a wild, perhaps crazy hypothesis- alternate universe.
Did her soul somehow travel into another dimension and meet Pairo? Then what would make of her now? An astray spirit? She broke out in cold sweats. In other words, a ghost in this world! And for some reason, only Pairo could see her.
If this was an alternative reality, what was to come next?
Boom! Crash!
Something exploded and burst the front door along with the wall. Pairo's parents were thrown to the floor, covered in dust and brick crumbs. A flying debris hit Pairo and he instantly slumped to his feet, blood oozing out of his head.
"Pairo!" Clandestia crouched down and frantically checked on him. He passed out from the hit but he was still breathing. She pressed a hand on his forehead to stop the bleeding.
Fresh blood of a living person, She winced, It's not a dream! She ripped a piece of fabric off her shirt and started bandaging Pairo's head.
Amidst the hazy fog of dust and broken debris, she made out two figures stepping into the house. One short, hobbit-like man. And one bulky and hairy man who looked like an ape.
"Oh, did I punch a little too hard?" The ape-man snorted, cracking his knuckle.
"Like always." The hobbit replied.
Clandestia immediately recognised who they were. Uvogin and Feitan from the Phantom Troupe. They had come for the massacre! It was really happening. And just like Pairo's parents, Uvogin and Feitan couldn't see her.
"Who are you people?" She heard Pairo's father groan.
Uvogin crouched down, jerked the man's head up and grinned down at his prey's frightened face. "Your death gods." He said condescendingly.
Whaa…whaa… Pavati's crying sent the whole room into a dreadful silence.
"No, please! Spare my children!" Pairo's mother burst into tears, clinging to Uvogin's arm. " I beg of you!"
No! Pavati! Clandestia dashed into the bedroom, catching a glimpse of Uvogin behind her dragging Pairo's parents along with him. She headed for Pavati' crib, hanging on a slim hope that even if she was a spirit, she could still touch Pairo so maybe…just maybe, it would work.
Clandestia reached for Pavati but her hands swiped right through the baby. Soon Uvogin's hairy arms picked up the baby, going past Clandestia like she was some kind of hologram. She couldn't touch them. Not Uvogin, not Pavati! She recoiled, staring at her hands.
Was she really a spirit? And the only one she could touch was Pairo?
Whaa… Baby Pavati weeped louder.
"Please! Let go of her!" Pairo's mother cried, her sobbing blended with the baby's weeping.
"Make 'em watch." Uvogin said.
Feitan tied Pairo's parents into the chairs, facing Uvogin. The ape-man plopped down on the bed with Pavati squirming in his arm.
"I hate noisy kids." Uvogin said, drawing out a pocket knife.
Though it was somewhat expected, the first cut almost knocked Clandestia out cold.
A deep, long cut maculated baby Pavati's chubby, plum cheeks. Fresh, red blood was oozing out and coursing down her neck. Her wailing sounded like a depressing siren.
Then came the second, third, fourth cuts. Pavati's cheeks, the adorable plums that looked so good to touch just a moment ago, were now smeared with red.
Clandestia sank to her knees, hands falling onto her sides, hyperventilating.
"You fucking monsters!" Pairo's father screamed, floundering violently in his chair. The rope dug into his skin and seemed to tighten with his movement.
"No! Stop!" Pairo's mother squirmed, crying hysterically. Her shrieking blended with the baby's wailing in a frenzy and sickening rhythm.
"Hey, is that the color? Whatcha think, Fei?" Uvogin put a hand on his chin, motioning to the Kurta couple.
"Those hues? Can hardly call them red. Won't sell!" Feitan scoffed. "See the samples out there? Danchou wants bright scarlet."
"Fuck. This is gonna be messy." Uvogin sighed, and then grinned.
Clandestia was in med school when she was 12. Surgery was a mandatory subject. But since she aimed to be a psychiatrist, she just had to go through it theoretically by showing up in operating rooms, never actually holding a knife. Doctors shouldn't be grossed out by blood or flesh cutting but she winced every time going through those classes.
But it was nothing like this…
The knife in Uvogin's hand made an unsparing long cut on baby Pavati's round, rosy pink tummy. Surgery knives had to be clean and sharp to be merciful to the patients' flesh. But this one… she was morbidly reminded of a blunt cutting knife disemboweling a watermelon. Uvogin definitely looked like he was dissecting a melon, using bare fingers, pulling out the guts. There was too much red juice but Pavati's bowels spilling out with the red was still visible. The haunting grayish-white flesh still seemed to be pumping with veins. And Pavati was not wailing anymore. She had reduced to little sobs and hiccups as her consciousness faded away. Right, this was no operating room with tons of sedatives.
This baby. Pairo's pride and adoration. She was dying. Dying from extreme pain and shock.
"You demons, I'll never forgive you! Even if I die, I'll drag you to hell!" Pairo's father screamed, eyes blazing with pain and fury.
"You try." Feitan growled, ruthlessly jerking the man back into his seat.
"Whew, now that's the right hue!" Uvogin whistled.
As if on cue, Feitan severed Pairo's father's head with one flex of his hand. The head flew to Clandestia's feet, rolling a few rounds, and stopped. Furious red eyes stared at her from the ground. She toppled over, throwing up violently.
"Ahahahahaha!" In her dizziness, Clandestia heard Pairo's mother begin to laugh between her own weeping. It started with a few broken cackles and then turned into frenzy guffawing. A horrifying mixture of hysterical laughter and crying. A panic attack from severe shock! The woman was going insane.
Tears welled up in Clandestia's eyes. The laughter ringing in her ears made her want to pass out.
In one swift plunge, Feitan had his hand tearing through Pairo's mother's chest, killing her instantly. "Shut up!" He said, throwing the body to the floor, in its fresh pool of blood.
Despite putting much effort setting up the slaughtering show, Uvogin and Feitan extracted scarlet eyes from Pairo's family fairly quickly. By the time they left, Clandestia was stuck on the floor, utterly stupefied, drenching in the corpses' thick red blood. Over the bed, baby Pavati's remains turned blue and grayish; the limbs made slight twitches like a dissected frog in a disturbing course of Lazarus reflex.
Pairo's family was all dead. And here she was, couldn't even seem to move a muscle.
Pairo! Her eyes widened.
Part of her senses finally returned to her. She forced herself up, dragging her feet to the living room, hanging onto a fleeting hope and a maddening urge to check if Pairo was still alive. She knew she was being irrational but the gruesome slaughter just happened had exhausted her ability to think.
So when she met Pairo at the ruined entrance, she was in complete shock.
The boy was kneeling with his back facing her.
And he was...fidgeting. Like he was looking for something.
"Pairo?" She asked incredulously.
Was it magic? He was still alive.
He was knocked out when the slaughtering happened. Did the Spider leave him out by chance? Or they were not happy with his dim maroon eyes and left without killing him.
Or was she delusional now?
"I … Clandestia?" He replied but his hands were fumbling around. Like he was searching for something invisible.
"Pairo, you're alright?" She ran to him and crouched down, touching his shoulders.
"Clandestia…" He turned around and she immediately shrank away.
Half of his face was crushed and his eye sockets were emptied. A pair of hollow, bloody holes gaped at her. It was so crazy that he was still moving!
"I can't see anything!" He said, with pure curiosity. As if he really had no idea of what was happening to him.
"Why, Clandestia?" He asked, catching her hands with his. His skin was cold like the undead.
Why? Because the massacre has happened. Your family is dead and your eyes were stolen? More like how did you survive all these fatal wounds? A million terrifying thoughts rolled into Clandestia's head.
Then Pairo smiled.
"It's my birthday, Clandestia. I can't see anything so please find my parents. Let's have a birthday bash!" He said eagerly; blood coursing down his face, maculating his stretched lips, turning his grin into a Glasgow smile.
Clandestia recoiled, reflexively slapping his hands away in the process. She instantly regretted the act. Pairo suddenly froze, then he furrowed what looked like his brows on top of the hollow sockets.
"You're pushing me away?" His smile wavered, then disappeared, turning into a twisted expression.
"Why? I thought we're friends!" He hissed, roughly tugging at her trembling hands again.
No! This is not real! You're not the real Pairo! Clandestia screamed in her mind as she shoved him aside and sprinted out of the house.
She had to get away even though she knew the full scale of the massacre was what awaited her outside.
Corpses were sprawling everywhere. Majority of them were so gruesomely killed that their remains were all over the place. Some of the corpses were decomposing, with blue mold growing and maggots squirming.
She ran and ran. Adrenaline from the shock and horror fiercely pumped her veins.
Nothing even made any sense anymore! They were freshly slaughtered one minute and then decomposed the next.
If this was a dream, then how could she smell the acetone odor of decayed flesh?
Why was the heat from the fire so suffocating?
What was this stinking, sulfurous smell from burnt houses and human flesh fiercely stabbing her nose?
This place didn't make sense!
Whatever she saw didn't make sense!
Then she was morbidly reminded of Pairo's mother's mad laugh. And she felt a terrible urge to do just the act.
It was almost an uncontrollable urge, rising from the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat, tugging madly at the corners of her mouth. She bit down on her lips hard until the iron, salty taste of blood filled her mouth.
She needed this sobriety to preserve the single sacred shred of sanity in her.
Clandestia kept running, letting her feet blindly lead the way. Until she was too exhausted to run, her steps gradually reduced into agonizing plodding.
At the end of the road, she came upon a lone figure, crouching down on the brown, rocky crust. Her misty violet eyes widened and her heart froze for an instance. She knew very well who it was.
Kurapika.
The adult Kurapika, not the past version.
She halted in her steps for a moment, then slowly approached him.
All the pieces started falling into place.
She finally found the truth and it all made sense now.
This was it.
The world inside Kurapika's subconsciousness!
Certainly she had successfully communicated to his subconscious mind, and somehow been trapped in it, too.
Clandestia silently crouched down beside the blond young man.
He was building up a mound. It was, undoubtedly, a grave. She looked around. There were about over a hundred of them. This was a burial ground. Clandestia eyes fell on Kurapika's hands as he tirelessly dug up soil and rocks. He had probably done all this with his bare hands. His blistered, swollen hands. She felt heat rushing to her eyes.
"You always seem to find me. No matter where I am." He finally said, without meeting her eyes.
She did not reply to him, just quietly joined him in putting up the tombstone.
When it was done, she lingered on the ground, whispering a few prayers and finally looked at him.
"Let's go back to the real world, Kurapika!" She muttered, melancholy drenched her voice.
The reason why everything was so real.
The reason why it didn't feel like a dream. It was because all this wasn't just a dream.
It was a hallucination!
Most probably a hypnagogic hallucination. Or something else of that sort. A reality that Kurapika made up within his subconscious mind. He somehow indulged in this world while he was falling into a coma.
"I think you're mistaken." He said, finally gazing back at her. "This place is not trapping me." Then his eyes shifted to the faraway horizon with a longing expression.
"I have a recurring dream of this place, on this very fateful day. Almost every night when I fall asleep." He said, his low voice bore an invisible weight. "This is the day that I came back to Lukso. Saw what was left of it. Buried everyone, counting the faces I knew as I made the graves."
"Hell, even though the massacre was on the news for weeks, no one had even bothered to bury them." He made a dry scoff, then it turned into a chuckle. His gray eyes reddened. "All of them were growing blue mold and stinking and rotting away with fucking… maggots! Like dead RATS ON THE ROAD!" He screeched indignantly.
Clandestia gulped, trying to swallow a lump in her throat.
"We hurt no one! But in the eyes of society, we were some red-eyed monsters. Guess no one would even waste an ounce of sympathy on us." He said, his eyes gazing vacantly at the newly-made tombstone.
Tears welled up in Clandestia's eyes. She finally came to understand. The reason why Kurapika had been living so bitterly. The massacre, the survival guilt, the unjustified demise of his extinct clan. She wouldn't dare to wonder how many times and how often he was haunted by it to the point that it turned into a hallucination.
She suddenly felt a sudden surge of regret for having told him to forget about the Phantom Troupe and live his life. What did she even know? She only had a glimpse of his memories but she knew nothing of his sufferings. It had been just him alone against the world! Like he had said before, she was just conceited.
"I was young and… too stubborn to believe what the Kurta elders said…about the world outside. And in a blink of an eye, I paid such a price." He smiled but at the same time, he looked like he was about to cry.
"And only in this dream, I can rest assured that I won't ever forget my brethren's pain and this hatred!" He smashed a fist on the rocky ground, squeezing out a trail of blood.
"Stop!" Clandestia muttered, taking his bleeding fist into the palms of her hands. Stop doing this to yourself!
"You should leave!" He said coldly, shaking out of her grasp.
He turned away, rose to his feet and peered down at her.
"Out there..." He said; his eyes darkened, and the red hue was almost dark brown. "There's no place for a Kurta. I have nowhere else to call home but here!"
"You're wrong!" She said, rising onto her feet with determination.
"You should stop this. Whatever that you're trying to do here!" He spoke, like a warning.
As soon as her eyes met his frosty gaze, she noticed a vague presence behind her. Then came the familiar chill down her spine as a small, cold hand tugged at her sleeves.
"Clandestia…" Her name rang eerily in her ears. She did not want to turn back but there was some kind of spell that forced her to peek over her shoulders.
Empty eye sockets bore into her. It was, of course, the zombified Pairo. He had somehow caught up to her. But this time his half-crushed face was caked with dried blood and rotten flesh was dangling on his exposed skull.
"Help me, Clandestia." Pairo whispered to her, flashing his Glasgow smile. "I want my eyes back for my birthday present!"
Clandestia reflexively recoiled a few steps back in horror. The back of her feet hit a tombstone and something cold and rough abruptly caught her heels.
"Ahh!" She shrieked, trying to kick it off but lost her balance and fell headfirst onto the ground. Her eyes shot down to her ankle and she realized it was a corpse's hand grabbing her.
The corpse sluggishly crawled out of its grave and hovered over her quivering form.
Not just one corpse. Hundreds of them were slithering out and gradually cornered her, gaping at her with their hollow orbits.
Her head was spinning in a sick, wobbly vertigo, like she was on a roller coaster.
"Uhmm…" She groaned, trying to bury a scream down her throat.
Kurapika was standing idly, outside the circle of zombies, gazing at her coldly. And that look in his eyes! She knew what it meant.
"LEAVE!" He barked.
That's right. This is his doing. She grimaced.
He promptly turned on his heels and left, leaving her with Pairo and the pack of moving corpses.
Clandestia clenched her fists, overwhelmed by a surge of vexation.
She was exhausted. She was terrified. And she was frustrated.
Frustrated that he always shut her out. That he was always so quick to turn his back on her. That he only talked to her when it fitted him.
But what frustrated her the most was the sight of his back under this mournful sunset. It looked so lonely. So lonely that she just couldn't even let him be.
And that made her so damn angry!
"Oh, don't you walk away from me, you insensitive JERK!" She screamed at his retreating back.
Kurapika involuntarily halted in his steps. It was the first time she ever raised her voice at him.
"Did I ever ask you to come here?" He finally turned around, glaring at her.
"Did your profession ever teach you to respect someone's privacy, Dr Ellis?" He questioned, brimming with irony. "...and to not stick your nose into someone else's problems?"
"And take a look at yourself." He jeered at her. "You can't even bear being here."
"You're afraid." He said; the corners of his lips turned up into a ghost of a smile as he cast his ice-cold gaze at her.
"Yes, I'm freaking scared right now!" Clandestia glared back at him as she forced herself back on her feet. "And sorry to disappoint you! For being scared of all this!"
Heat rushed to her nose and Clandestia felt hot tears stinging her eyes.
"But why're you being such a coward?" She spat. "You're always… always stuck in your own judgment, not even giving anyone a chance to come close to you!"
She dragged her feet over the moving corpses, not looking at them. And strangely, all the corpses gradually disappeared like a film playing backward. There was only Kurapika in front of her, with his scarlet eyes widened.
"You're my precious friend, Kurapika." She said, gazing at him through her misty eyes."And I won't give up on you. Neither will Leorio, Killua, Gon and Melody! So don't be so quick to give up on us, too!"
"I'm not asking you to forget about your vengeance! But we can share your burden!" She said, pushing another step closer. "You're not alone anymore! So stop acting like you are! And please… stop torturing yourself in this place!"
"Everyone's waiting for you, Kurapika. Let's go home!" She said; her voice was reduced to just above a whisper. Hot and salty tears coursed down her cheeks as she finally smiled at him.
Kurapika was frozen in his steps, baffled.
Home?
When the weight of her words finally sank in, he felt a pain squeezing in his chest. He tried to say something but no word came out. Then he tried to look away but his eyes didn't comply. It was suffocating and he wasn't sure what exactly made him feel that way.
Maybe it was the tearful smile on her face. Or it was her somber violet eyes. It could be her lonely, petite form basking in the soft, hazy light of sunset.
She looked …heartbreakingly beautiful!
With a rather rough tug at her hand, he pulled her into him, crushing her to his chest. Then he let out a shaky breath that he didn't know he was holding. She uttered a soft groan of surprise which was swiftly buried into his chest. The warmth from her body. The sound of her heartbeat. She was now so close to him and suddenly, he felt like he could breathe again.
"Tia..." Kurapika sighed into her hair; voice thick with emotions. Something hot and… perplexing was burning inside him and he was barely containing it.
As he tightened his arms around her, everything faded into darkness.
E/N: In canon, we only had about two pages long about Kurapika falling into a coma but it was clear that he was suffering. So this is my take on what happened to Kurapika in that state.
In YN arc, I saw a streak of insanity in Kurapika, carefully hidden but definitely there. And I worshiped Togashi-sensei for blending it so well with YN arc's theme. That streak of insanity, which was probably the result of deep hatred, could very well turn him into an antihero but luckily, his friends were what kept him sane. Still, sane or not, I love Kurapika lol.