Hey, hey! Hope you're alright!

First of all, I'd like to thank maneating_granny and Rebellion moon for supporting this story! You guys are the sweetest, I'm truly glad you're enjoying this story! I hope the next chapters will be of your liking as well :3

Second of all, I'm still unsure whether it is better to keep the chapters shorter (1k-2k words) or longer (4k words). I've received comments on different fanfiction platforms and I'm evaluating them, so if you want to let me know what you thin, please leave a comment! Your opinion matters to me!

I hope you'll enjoy Illumi's pov's since they'll become more frequent from now on :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

See you soon,

—Cherry

"She's shaking!"

"Is there a blanket around here?" Someone asked.

"Here's some water." Another person deposited a glass in her trembling hands.

"Make room for her to breathe, can't you see she's in shock?" A man spoke next to her.

Her body still shivered and her usually golden skin looked like it had been drained of every color, with the exception of the dark circles below her eyes. Over her face, scarlet stood out vividly, as well as some purplish, almost black hue around her nose. It made her look miserable, even more so with the tears flowing down her stained cheeks.

She felt someone put a cloth over her shoulders, but she didn't do anything other than grab the fabric with her cold fingers. Her gaze remained lost.

Honestly, she wanted to laugh at how desperate guests were about aiding her and running to figure out what to do with the corpse.

They were so naive.

She couldn't blame them though. She was indeed bruised and covered in blood, and her body was hurting like hell, so she didn't need to pretend to be struggling to stay awake. She really was. It would be almost impossible not to believe her in this condition.

But it was alright.

She'd endure the pain for the sake of making her story about Lasym's murder plausible.

Well, she had tried to regain her position with politeness, but he had said no. Now, he'd never say anything ever again. And the mission? She was sure it would belong to no one else.

In front her, Leorio checked the state of her wounded nose carefully, fingers lightly holding her chin up and turning it to the sides, a crease between his brows. Medea had just found out he was occupying Ging Freecs' position amongst the Zodiacs now, but since she had left for the high seas, she had no idea of why. She surely had lost a lot of gossip. Darn it.

He lowered her face again and looked deep in her eyes, taking his fingers to the side of her nose with extreme softness. She hissed, finally reacting genuinely ever since she got to the ballroom.

"Does it hurt that much?" He asked with almost clinical tranquility and she nodded, making him sigh. "Your nose is broken. You're gonna need surgery when you get out of here. I'm surprised you're not screeching in pain or having trouble breathing." He commented while making a sign for someone to hand him pieces of gauze, alcohol and some cotton balls.

"I've dealt with worse." She answered briefly.

He wiped the excess blood around her nose and subtly touched the nostrils to clean them too, but the woman felt all of her muscles go stiff and she muffled a cry. He put a piece of cotton inside and positioned her head so that it was tilted forward.

"I believe you. You look tough." Leorio joked in an attempt to dissipate the tension in the room. "Keep your head like this while they interrogate you, we wouldn't want blood to accumulate in your throat, right? I'll get some ice and anti-inflammatory for you. Stay still, I'll be right back."

Leorio quickly distanced himself and Medea felt Madam Thoshe put her hair in a bun so it wouldn't get in her way.

She placed her hand on the young woman's covered shoulder, patting it in a comforting way and Medea squeezed the blanket between her fingers. That was so familiar, but so unknown at the same time; a memory she tried to suppress in the back of her mind.

Viola Thoshe dried the tears that rolled down the tanned face with her black glove, with fondness she hadn't felt in a long time. She gave her a puzzled look. Why was she doing this? This was unlike her.

Medea turned her attention to the glass of water in her hands.

Someone's shoes appeared in front of hers and soon the person pulled a chair to sit next to her, tilting their own head to see her better. Cheadle's blue eyes found hers, as calm and collected as she had been at the start of the Annual Ball.

"Do you think you can talk about what happened?" Her voice was serious, but didn't sound aggressive.

Medea gave her a thumbs up. The noise in the environment immediately ceased.

She felt slightly sick.

Everyone was filled with nefarious curiousity, eager to know more about the murder. What a bunch of vultures.

"I left the room after what Mr. Lasym told me because I was in no condition to face anyone." She narrated, a cold and impersonal tone in her words. "I ended up on the self-care floor and stayed there for a while, trying to assimilate everything and reflect on my behavior among the Association."

"And it was then that you found him?" The Chairwoman asked.

"Yeah, I heard a noise coming from the Massage Hall and I thought it was weird since it was empty, so I got up to investigate." She explained by turning to the woman. "When I got there, there was an open door and a man cornering Mr. Lasym. He was desperate, begging for his life." She forced some tears to fill her eyes again. "Of course, I was angry that he had disqualified me from the mission, but I couldn't allow him to be killed without trying to save him! I could never forgive myself!"

As if! She thought, amused.

"She's lying!" Shouted Evie Gargani from the opposite side of the Hall. "She killed him, I'm sure of it!" She stumbled as she made her way among the people and tried to grab Medea's hair, but was immediately held down by some other guests, who told her to calm down. "Tell them, you dirty whore! You did it because you can't stand losing, right? Tell them!"

The right corner of her lip twitched minimally, an unimaginable desire to laugh taking over her chest. Who knew Evie could, for once in her life, be right about her?

Medea turned to the redhead with a pained expression.

"Do you believe I'm some kind of monster?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper. "I know I'm hard to handle and that you never liked me, but to assume I'd murder one of my most important sponsors? That's too cruel even for you. I didn't think you'd stoop so low just to ruin my reputation in the Association."

"You fucking slut!"

She tried to slap Medea, but was pulled by the hands that held her.

"Miss Gargani!" Yelled Gel, visibly enraged. "Get out of the ballroom right now! If you don't know how to control yourself then you can't stay here! We're in the middle of a serious moment!"

Evie's screams echoed through the hall as she was removed from the venue, the guests splitting their attention between the kicked-out woman and the wounded figure in the chair, eager to hear more.

Leorio approached them with an ice bag on his hand and a pill on the other, handing it to Medea, who drank it slowly and grimaced in pain when swallowing.

Madam Thoshe took the glass of water from her hands and placed it on a table near them, caressing her back once again.

Cheadle continued to face her, cyan eyes analyzing her reactions and behavior carefully. "Please proceed." She asked.

"Where was I?..."

"The man cornering Mr. Lasym."

"Thank you. As I was saying, I decided to intervene. I managed to lure the killer to the hallway and we got in a combat, but I was unarmed and, since I have my personal issues with Nen, he had most of the advantage. At a certain moment, he hit my head against the wall…" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Everything became very turbid and blurred. I couldn't stand on my feet. I could barely breathe. That's when he went and murdered Mr. Lasym."

In a way, it was true. She wasn't lying about everything. She supposed that it made it easier for her to maintain a confident stance on what she was saying.

Kurapika sneaked closer and she looked up at him, not understanding what he was doing. Cheadle looked at the man and gave him a neutral smile.

"Lanfort, this is the second new member of the Zodiacs, Kurapika. He is occupying Pariston's position."

Pariston had resigned?

No way!

She had to catch up to the Association's latest news as soon as possible! Many things had changed in the Hunter Association since her last mission, she just didn't know whether for better or worse.

Medea nodded carefully as Kurapika leaned against the nearest table, his gray eyes suddenly serious.

"We know each other." She said, taking a hand to the place where the assassin's nails had pierced her scalp. Jerk.

"Did you see who the killer was?" He asked calmly. "Any details about him that drew your attention? Anything could help us to identify him."

She frowned.

"I don't think so, it was so dark that I only realized that the cornered man was Lasym because I heard his voice, otherwise I would've found out about it only after fighting the criminal." Medea said finally. "The only thing I could notice was the short, light hair, but I also can't tell what color it was."

Kurapika crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.

"Did you notice which hand he used most? Was he tall or short? Did he limp? Literally anything could help."

If she told them what really had happened, she'd be in hot water with the organization and the assassin, so she chose to invent a new look for her dark-haired acquaintance.

"He was a little taller than me, but he didn't seem to limp." She told him. "He used his right hand a lot, so I guess he's right-handed or ambidextrous at least. He had small eyes and wore a mask that covered the bottom of his face."

"Any more details?"

"He didn't have one of his pinkies. I can't recall which one. I thought that was kind of weird and I'm not sure if it can help in anything, but I think it's important to point that out."

Kurapika stared at the ceiling, as if taking mental notes, and nodded as he looked at her again. "Right, did he use weapons?"

"He used his Hatsu to produce sharp claws, so he's probably a Conjurer or Transmuter, I don't know."

"What were they like?"

"Well, he used them like… What's the word? Ah, yeah, darts. And from what I saw afterwards, that's how he killed Mr. Lasym."

Kurapika took his fingers to his chin. "That explains why they didn't find the murder weapon near the body." He murmured.

Medea swallowed hard.

So the guy had gone back and collected all the needles after she left?

He was either very organized and walked away when she left to talk to his contractor before collecting his things, or he just wanted to make a triumphant exit when they bid farewell.

Maybe a little bit of both.

The corners of her vision darkened, a few colorful spots dancing in front of her eyes as they focused and unfocused on Kurapika's silhouette. Her eyelids felt heavy.

She took a hand to her head. It was throbbing so bad that she felt like her skull was being split open. A loud grunt escaped her. She didn't know when it had begun, but now it was almost unbearable. Everything was spinning.

Leorio grimaced when he saw that the cotton balls were already soaked with blood and quickly got up, running to her. "Okay guys, it's enough for now. We need to get her to the hospital before she faints from the lack of blood."

"But I still have questions, Leorio." Kurapika retorted.

Medea felt confused and dazed, the weight on her body increasing as it had occurred earlier.

Was she at the Annual Ball? Why did her head feel so light?

She wanted everything to stop. All the lights, and sounds, and people around her were overloading her senses, making her feel suffocated. They were talking nonstop, but she couldn't understand what they were saying.

She wished Enoull was there.

Where was Enoull?

"Kurapika, you don't understand the gravity of the situation." He shot back, slightly exalted. "Have you seen how ruined her nose is? She is on the verge of having a hypovolemic shock! Do you know what that means? That whoever murder Mr. Lasym wrecked her as much as it a traffic accident or a fall from a high place would! She may even die from blood loss!" He explained. "Let's get her out of here now!"

He walked towards the young woman, helping her to stand and wrapping his own neck with the girl's weak arms whereas Kurapika sighed, defeated, and replicated his friend's actions.

Medea laughed, slightly out of her mind, then groaned as the action made her nose ache. Her vision was blurry. Everything was spinning. She felt so high.

"I feel like I'm in a harem being carried around by my concubi—" She felt her legs give away and her vision darkened completely, the background shouting sounding like sweet lullabies as she blacked out completely.

The Kukuroo Mountain was especially cold during this time of year, but it didn't seem to bother its inhabitants, whether they were the employees or the owners of that land. Illumi didn't see it as an inconvenience, it was familiar to be surrounded by that heavy and gelid atmosphere. He had grown up in the midst of it, how could he dislike it?

Exactly four hours had passed since he notified his contractor about the end of his service. He'd been able to get home slightly earlier than the expected.

As he quietly walked through the empty and dull corridors, a drop of blood fell on the uncovered part of his chest, right between the buttons of his shirt. He stopped. He wiped it with two fingers and raised them to his face, analyzing the fluid.

The bleeding hadn't stopped after four hours. It wasn't as simple as he'd imagined.

His chest sparked with an unpleasant feeling.

That girl clearly didn't have a lot of training in Nen, he could see by the way her aura surrounded her. It was utterly unbalanced. She also seemed afraid to use any Nen techniques. And her movements, although fluid and disciplined, were not ideal for a woman like her — they were too mechanical and unnatural for her body, maybe if she learned other methods and practiced them for a while she could hone her skills.

Still, even with all her weaknesses and lack of knowledge about herself, she had wounded him to the point of drawing blood and breaking his nose.

He had to admit that she had potential. Too bad it hadn't been exploited yet.

Sighing, he dried his fractured nose with the back of his hand and continued walking down the hall, focused on getting to his father's chambers as he always did when returning from a contract.

The path that many would consider impossible to memorize was already something intrinsic to Illumi. He didn't have to strive to find any corner of that mansion and, consequently, the wide and imposing door soon appeared before him. He didn't knock on the door, just opened it instead.

The air seemed even colder when he entered the room and the typical smell of burnt mint invaded his nostrils.

His father was sitting comfortably in his usual place, with his mother by his side. She talked about whatever she considered important at that moment while failing to notice her slightly bored husband.

She never stopped talking.

It was one of Illumi's main reasons to stay away from her.

Illumi knelt before his father, head bowed in greeting. Silva raised an eyebrow as he sighted the state in which his son was, and Kikyo let out a muffled scream, her visor flashing with intensity.

"The mission was fulfilled as expected." He declared with his black eyes fixed at a random spot on the ground.

"Did he resist?" His father inquired, the low voice didn't let a thread of emotion slip, not that he expected it in any way.

"He just begged." He said. "He had no Nen skills and didn't know how to fight, it wasn't difficult to complete the work."

"Then who broke your nose, Illu dear?" His mother seemed slightly distraught to see her first-born, who always returned home unharmed, suddenly appear with a deformed and bleeding nose.

"A Hunter." He felt that abnormal feeling within himself once again, like a continuous wave of electricity that spread all over his limbs.

Could it be wounded pride? Possibly. Being robbed and then injured by the pearl-haired girl left a bitter taste on his tongue, as if he couldn't believe that he had been affected by an inferior person.

His father frowned.

"Was she his bodyguard? They didn't say anything regarding this when they contacted us."

He shook his head.

"From what I understood, he was the financier of a mission she was part of and she wanted to prove that she was fit for leadership."

"And she did that to your nose?"

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, Illumi knew that very well, specially after hearing that hint of disbelief behind the man's words.

The assassin clenched his fists, sharp nails slightly injuring his palms, and he gritted his teeth. "Yes." His voice didn't betray him, retaining his indignation to his own mind.

His father continued to stare at him, those cunning violet eyes analyzing him from head to toe.

His mother fanned herself quickly, a deviant smile on her lips. "I'm sure you gave her the end she deserved, right, Illu?" She hummed. Illumi stayed silent, drawing the attention of his mother who stopped swishing the fan. "Right, Illumi?"

He turned to his mother, face inexpressive as always. His black eyes scintillated under the blueish lights of the bedroom.

"I didn't kill her."

"What do you mean you didn't kill her?" The woman asked, raising her voice.

"My contract was to kill Evanor Lasym, not some inconvenient Hunter." He responded calmly.

She got up immediately, her hands clenched around the fan, and approached her son enraged.

"Are you insane?! She saw you, do you know how much a description of anyone in our family is worth?" She took a hand to her purple corset, shaking her head anxiously and making the flowers of her hat rattle. "If she sells that information, oh, I don't even want to think about it!" She exclaimed exasperated.

"She will not." He guaranteed while taking the back of his clean hand to the nose to clean it. "Besides, she doesn't even know my name, how would she sell a description of someone if she doesn't even know who she's talking about?"

"How can you be so sure, foolish child?" She retorted.

He only faced his mother with an arched eyebrow, a hint of pride in his expression.

"Because I also know something about her that was meant to be secret. She won't say anything." He reiterated.

Silva made a gesture for the son to stand, which he promptly obeyed. There was a crease between his blonde brows.

"If a simple Hunter has managed to hurt you, it means that something is not right with you... or with her." The man added. "What do you know about her? Is her Nen strong?"

"She doesn't seem to be used to putting her aura into action. It's much too unbalanced and untamed for someone who is in full control of their skills... Still, she has the ability to improve. She just needs to be trained." Illumi expressed his verdict. "She also works as a part-time thief."

"The Phantom Troupe?"

He shook his head, the long black locks gracefully flickering with the movement. "She works alone."

"What is this girl's name?"

Illumi wiped the blood on his face once again and stared at his father.

"Lasym called her Lanfort. I think that's her surname, but I intend to find out who she is as soon as possible." He ensured quickly.

The man nodded thoughtfully.

"You may leave. Go take care of that nose before it creates a trail of blood throughout the entire mansion." Silva dismissed him and he bowed before turning and walking towards the door. "Illumi." Almost entirely out the door, the dark-haired man turned around, black eyes staring at his progenitor's the figure. "If that..." He pointed to his son's face, arm and neck. "...happens again, you already know what to expect."

Punishment.

Illumi just nodded and walked out.

His hands wandered into his pocket as he walked, pulling out the needle that had been stolen, slightly covered in blood. His blood.

He gritted his teeth, frustrated.

When he realized he was already standing in front of his room's door, he opened it with force, a loud bang echoing throughout the mansion. He was not prone to outbursts, far from it, but something about that situation angered him profoundly.

He had won. The mission had been completed, he had severely injured that woman and had recovered his needle.

Then why did he feel as if he had lost?

The assassin took off his shirt and threw it on the floor, stopping in front of the mirror to ascertain the damage done by the thief.

The cut on his arm had not been as insignificant as he had thought, but it didn't compare to the wound on his neck, which leaked almost as much blood as his nose. Said nose was completely wrecked, crooked at an angle that he always thought to be physically impossible. He was wrong. The best thing to do was to put it in place while taking a shower; he didn't want to get himself dirty once again.

He moved to his desk and deposited the bloody needle next to the Peacock Kanzashi.

Her weapon.

It wouldn't be the last time they saw each other, he was sure of that, and when they met again, the feeling of victory would be his and no one else's.

Aww, love these tender family moments

———

The consequences of Medea's lies can be more problematic than she expected. Is it going to permanently ruin her chances of becoming a Single Star Hunter? Or maybe even worse? To find out about these and many other questions, stay tuned for the next chapters of Cataclysm~