Author's Notes:
WARNING: Major Character Death
RELATIONSHIP: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Pakunoda
This was written as a gift for stingray-art on Tumblr as a part of a challenge for the Greed Island Game Master Server. Please note that this contains spoilers until chapter 397 of the Hunter x Hunter manga by Yoshihiro Togashi.
A picnic in the forest where branches tremble
Pakunoda is striding between the heaps of garbage in Meteor City. She's searching for something, but she can't remember what that might be.
"Paku! Over here!"
A smile spreads over her face as soon as the familiar voice reaches her ears. She turns to see Chrollo beaming and waving at her. His other arm is holding the basket he usually uses to collect flowers for the small graves sprinkled over the church grounds.
He's just the person she most longed to see. He has the sharpest, swiftest mind she's ever encountered. Surely, he's the prime candidate for assisting her in recalling the reasons why she's been wandering aimlessly around this area.
"I've been looking all over for you!" he says as she approaches him. "It's high time for us to celebrate, isn't it?"
"Celebrate what?" She pauses now to contemplate. "Don't tell me it's my birthday and it totally slipped my mind? Is that what I've forgotten?"
"Sure! If you say it's your birthday, then it is."
She raises an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean? Is it my birthday or not?"
"It better be! The most wonderful idea occurred to me just now. You know how we should celebrate this special day? We should have a picnic!"
"I'm not opposed to the idea, but shouldn't we invite the others first? Give me a few minutes, and I can hunt for Sheila and Sarasa. You can ask Franklin and Shal to tag along too, if you like."
He shakes his head. "No way! It has to be just the two of us today! I want you all to myself, Paku. Don't get me wrong — the others are my dear friends too. But you're my favorite person in the world, if not the universe. There's never been any competition."
She studies his face silently. It isn't the first time he's used these sorts of lines, which seem to spring straight from the sappy romance novels and videotapes he salvages from the dump in his relentless quest to master all the languages and dialects he can. Given the sheer amount of media he consumes for this purpose, she has to wonder what percentage of what he says comes from a place of sincerity and authenticity and what percentage echoes the words of authors he's read and actors he's heard.
"Since it's your special day, you should be the one to pick what we're going to bring on our picnic," he tells her now.
"As if we have a choice. I'd be surprised if we could find anything edible at all. By this time of the day, the factions of Uvo and Phinks have probably snapped up anything halfway decent."
He puffs out his chest. "That's where you're wrong! Follow me."
And she does. He's probably the only person she'd ever follow to the ends of the Earth, regardless of what hazardous paths he's taking her or what scant information he divulges. Not that she's planning on ever telling him that, of course.
He leads her south. They rarely ever scavenge in these parts since the largest business corporations and nonprofit entities tend to prefer the northeastern and northwestern areas of Meteor City for dumping their waste.
He halts beside a stream. Grinning, he sweeps his arms around like he's some cheesy game show host hyping up the studio audience for an array of lavish prizes.
"Behold! My new favorite spot to scour for treasure!"
"What's so special about this place?" But these words have barely left her mouth when her jaw drops. She's just spotted what appears to be animal crackers at the foot of the nearest mound of junk.
She scrambles toward the colorful box and holds it right in front of her eyes, which must be sparkling with stars at the welcome sight. The cardboard packaging is creased in one corner, sure, but the label is intact. It promises cat-shaped biscuits with strawberry cream filling.
He laughs as she cradles the box to her chest. "See? Recently, the manufacturer for that brand has taken to dumping in this area any products falling beneath factory standards. Uvo's bound to find out about this hot spot soon, what with Machi running reconnaissance for him. Until then, it'll be our little secret, okay?"
He presses his index finger to his smiling lips. She mirrors the gesture.
They commence searching the vicinity for any more promising loot, which they then place in Chrollo's basket.
"It's so quiet here," she muses after a while. "I didn't know it was possible to find an area in these trash-filled hills where I could hear myself think."
"Peace is another dwindling commodity in these parts, isn't it? You know, Paku, the precious few times I've ever felt at peace, I almost always happened to be in your company. Maybe that's why I like you so much, among many other reasons."
Perhaps to permit her to soak in the uncommon serenity of their surroundings, he ambles some distance away to poke at the opening of a moth-eaten suitcase with a rusty fishing rod. She's grateful for the space he gives her now, for he's only just missed the sight of her cheeks turning pink with pleasure.
She increases the distance between them by wandering closer to the stream. She bends over the trickling brook to reach for a plastic bag partly hidden by mud.
There, she spots something that makes her gasp. Her body stiffens all at once, though her heart thunders onward, hammering with a pace that makes her chest burn with pain.
Her reflection on the water is a stranger to her. The woman staring back at her has chin-length hair, painted lips, and a solemn expression.
"Paku, what's the matter?"
This question, spoken out of nowhere, startles her so much she almost falls face-first into the water. She swiftly straightens up from her crouched position and looks toward Chrollo, who's staring at her with furrowed brows.
Her eyes dart back toward the stream. A girl is looking back at her now. Though the child's eyes are wide with alarm, her buzz cut and chapped lips are comfortingly familiar.
She forces a smile. "Nothing's wrong. The water here's so murky I thought for a moment I saw somebody totally different reflected back at me."
"Yeah, I get it. Happens to me all the time in this place. Feels like, every day, I wear new faces and speak using different voices. You know what I mean?"
She doesn't, but she nods anyway. "I think we've found enough food for now. Our stomachs aren't big enough to handle a feast anyway."
"Good point."
"So where do you want to eat? I think here's as good a place as any. There's nobody around to bother us. But I'd rather not settle too close to the stream, if that's okay with you."
"Why don't we head toward Uga Forest instead?" he suggests. "It'll be nice to look at the trees and have some lush greenery around us instead of these mounds of junk."
"You think that's a good idea? When Sarasa invited me over once, her nannies kept warning us about the many dangers of visiting the outskirts of the city. The rate of child abductions has been rising rapidly, they told us repeatedly."
"I know. Normally, I'd try to stop you if you wanted to go to that area alone. But we're together now, aren't we? When you're with me, you don't have to be afraid of anything. I'll protect you, Paku! I promise!"
He thumps his fist against his chest for emphasis. Smiling despite herself, she relents and agrees to his suggestion. Together, they make their way toward the forest.
The scenery seen from Uga Forest is certainly grand, but she can't decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. The trunks of these trees are wider than the sleeping quarters she shares with several other orphan girls. Their towering heights, however, are even more intimidating. Trying to track a single trunk from its roots all the way to its crown immediately makes her head spin.
As she's gazing upward with her head tipped all the way back, she glimpses something that again accelerates the beating of her heart to a velocity that leaves her chest aching.
An upper branch of the tree is trembling. There, a black garbage bag dangles from a length of rope. Is she only imagining it, or is something hidden within the sack wriggling, screaming to be freed, and begging to be taken back home?
She hasn't even realized she's collapsed until she senses Chrollo catching her and setting her upright once more.
"Are you okay?" he demands.
"Are you okay?" she shoots back.
"Why are you asking me that? You're the one who almost fainted just now!"
Shaken, she sinks to the forest floor. She wipes her face, which is suddenly gleaming with sweat, with the front of her blouse. She keeps her face hidden for a minute as she attempts to recollect herself.
"Paku." Chrollo's voice is close by. He must be seated right next to her. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I don't want to pry, but I can tell something's been bothering you since we ran into each other earlier."
Now that he mentions it, she realizes he's right. Something — she doesn't know what — has been needling the back of her mind all this time. She's here in the forest with Chrollo at this moment, but a part of her feels like it's elsewhere.
What is this feeling? Why doesn't she know? Why can't she remember?
The answers to these questions may be eluding her at present, but she realizes something else. There's a reason why, even in her dazed and dizzy state, she was asking Chrollo whether he was okay. His hands, as they steadied her, were as cold as ice.
She doesn't understand much about her present situation, but she does know that she isn't the only one who's been off today.
She scrutinizes Chrollo's face and wonders what it is about him that's changed.
"Do you need to lie down or something?" Chrollo inquires.
She clears her throat before she speaks. "No, no. I think my hunger's been making me light-headed. My mind's playing tricks on me again, forcing me to see patterns and shapes where there aren't any. Why don't we finish what we came here to do? I'm sure I'll feel better once I eat something."
The creases of concern on his forehead turn smooth. "Right you are! Let's begin our celebratory picnic!"
He takes the pilfered food from the basket and divides it into two portions. He passes one pile, which is much larger than the other, to her.
"Thanks for being so generous," she tells him.
"You deserve it, Paku."
She lapses into silence as she tucks in. First, she picks up the animal biscuits, which Chrollo placed undivided on top of her pile of food. She tears open the package and pops a handful of cat-shaped snacks into her mouth.
The biscuits, as well as the cream that's supposed to fill them, taste like sand. They're all bland and dry on her tongue. They're nearly as difficult to swallow as the disappointment rising in her throat.
She scowls. "I think these are spoiled."
"No way?" Chrollo takes the packaging of the biscuits and examines it. "They should be okay. The expiration date is months from now."
Shrugging, she reaches for the next item on her pile, which is a tube of caramel candies. Though the label declares them to be chewy, their texture is as sandy as the biscuits'. Sighing, she puts down the tube, partially-consumed, and moves onto the next.
In this manner, she goes through her half of the picnic. She samples each type of food, tastes nothing but sand, then goes on to the next. Everything has the same flavor — sandy and strange. It's a given that food foraged from the dump will be a hit-or-miss, but she's certainly never had a meal as tasteless as this before. She may as well be ripping pages from a dusty phone book and cramming them whole into her mouth.
When she gives up on trying to enjoy her food and instead focuses her attention on Chrollo, she sees that he's already staring at her. He's barely touched his own half of the picnic.
"Aren't you going to finish your meal?" she asks.
"Don't need to."
She pauses, letting this reply sink in. "But you're the one who suggested this picnic."
"I did. And I came here to celebrate this day with you, not to eat."
"But what are we really celebrating? I don't feel like this is my birthday. What are we even doing here, Chrollo?" When he only gives her a blank-eyed stare in response, she clambers to her feet. "I — I don't think I should be here anymore. I have to get back. People will be wondering where I am."
She faces the path they took to get here, but it's not there anymore. An impenetrable darkness has swallowed the way back.
Disoriented, she turns toward Chrollo again. He's watching her wordlessly. Behind him, at an unknown location deeper into the forest, the air is beginning to brighten. It's turning too bright, almost.
She squints at the sight. At the same moment, a stabbing sensation in her heart forces her to her knees.
Clutching at her chest, she implores Chrollo to provide her with some answers. "What's happening? My heart hurts. It keeps hurting. Why are you doing this to me?"
He gives her a sad smile. "I'm not doing anything to you. You're the one who summoned me here to protect you from the truth. Unfortunately, you can't keep that at bay forever. Elsewhere, there's a blade lodged into your heart."
"A blade?"
"Its owner calls it the Stake of Retribution. But you should be less worried about what it is and more worried about how it's going to affect you. You see, the blade is burying deeper inside your heart, with every grain of sand that falls from one side of the hourglass to the other. You can attempt all you want to fight this fate you've been dealt, but it's already too late. Your ending is imminent."
"Does that mean I'm —" But the word catches in her throat.
"Not yet," he says in response to her half-uttered question. "You're close to it, though. Agonizingly close. Time moves differently in this realm."
"Is this hell?" Immediately after she asks this, she feels foolish. Why would Chrollo, of all people, be present here if this place is supposed to be her inferno? "Heaven?" she amends.
"Somewhere in between. There isn't really a name for it."
Try as she might, she can't stop her eyes from welling with tears. This — the disorientation, the pain intensifying in her chest, the darkness behind her, the blinding light ahead — is all too much for a child's brain to handle.
But she isn't a child anymore, is she? Earlier, the sorrowful face of a woman was gazing back at her in the stream. Isn't that her real face?
Here, in this nameless space between realms, she's been attempting to flee from the consequences of her choices and from the reality of the person she's become since the relatively idyllic days of her childhood.
But Chrollo's right. The time is past for running or fighting now.
Almost against her will, she gazes upward toward the branch weighted down by the garbage bag that she was hoping she'd imagined, that she'd give anything to forget. The bag is still dangling there, but it's motionless now. Whatever was struggling inside it has already breathed its last.
Chrollo follows her stare toward the branches above. "Wherever you're going, I can't guarantee you'll see her again."
"Sarasa," she murmurs, as all the memories she's been repressing come rushing back with a vengeance. Despite the searing agony spreading over her torso, she commands her body to walk toward the tree beneath which the garbage bag still hangs. She presses her palm against the trunk. "I remember now. This is where we all found her mutilated corpse. Uga Forest. Sometimes I feel like, no matter where I go, I'm still stuck in this forest, lost amongst these gigantic trees. In a way, we never managed to leave this place, did we?"
"I can only tell you what you want to hear, but for what it's worth, I think you're right."
She spins around to face him and leans against the trunk. "I've never told anyone this, but maybe you already know. Back when I was trying to move on from my grief and striving to be strong enough to keep up with everyone else, I still thought about her all the time. There was nobody like Sarasa — so effortlessly empathetic and perceptive that she could keep us all in harmony and could defuse any conflict before it blew up. She helped bring the Phantom Troupe together before you officially formed it. She could read us all with a single look and could voice out what we were too afraid to speak into existence. As somebody who secretly has a cowardly side, I dreamed of being a reader just like her."
"And so you were. Even before you honed your ability, you were surprisingly adept at reading my mind."
"Can you read mine? What am I thinking right now?"
He cocks his head to the side. "I have a feeling you'll tell me regardless. There's nothing holding you back anymore. Here, you're free from any of the reservations you had when you were in the living realm."
So he says, but she still has to take a moment to summon up the courage to confess. "If I regret one thing, it's that I never told you how I truly felt. Back when we were kids, you were always flattering me and telling me you loved me, to the point where I wasn't sure I could ever take you seriously. Deep down, though, I always hoped you meant it."
"Of course I meant it. I told you so, didn't I?"
"When we met three years after we all parted ways, I wondered whether something would finally happen between us. I was waiting for you to joke around with me again — to tell me you loved me and whatnot — so that I could take the opportunity to say it back. But you were different. Serious. There was none of the lightness or innocence in your eyes that I remembered. You'd hardened through your years of mourning and forming the foundation for the changes you needed to assure that nobody would bastardize and dehumanize the inhabitants of Meteor City ever again. I could tell you'd followed through with what you told us you had to do, all in the name of locating those murderers who'd stolen Sarasa from us. You, with all the faces you'd worn through the years I'd known you, displayed for the first time the face of a man who knew what it felt like to snuff out a life. Or several."
"I'm sorry," he says softly. "Seeing me like that must've disappointed you. You always did believe in me."
"You might've been a far cry from the child I once knew, but you could never disappoint me, Chrollo. You only did what you had to. And I, in turn, did everything I could to back you. I always knew I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth."
He points toward the white light seeping from the forest ahead. "I only wish I could do the same for you right now. Unfortunately, this is a journey you have to take on your own."
"I understand." Her eyes flutter shut as a wave of pain worse than all the others combined washes over her entire body. This may very well be her final reminder that time is almost out. Making a decision, she opens her eyes. "Hey, can I ask for one last request?"
"What is it, Paku?"
"I've loved you since we were kids, Chrollo. I should have told you then, but at least I'm saying it now. I love all of you — not only the bright parts of you that draw people in like moths, but also the sides of you that you believe to be dark and deplorable. So, if possible, I'd like to meet the real you, one last time. I want to kiss you goodbye."
Once she blinks, he's instantly transformed from the boy she once loved into the man she loves still. She reaches for his chilly hand and notices that her own palm is larger now, her fingers longer. She's back in her adult body.
Craving the contact she's always dreamed about, she closes her eyes and leans into him. However, her lips brush nothing but air.
When she opens her eyes, Chrollo is nowhere to be seen. Her final request has been a pipe dream in the end. What else has she been expecting? She missed so many chances to make things happen when he was actually in front of her — alive and real, warm and tangible.
As his doppelganger told her, what follows is a journey she has to take alone. Steeling herself for the unknown, she steps toward the white light brightening the forest ahead.