Warning: This chapter is not for the faint of heart. You have been warned...
Chapter XXIV
Pakunoda stays for three more days, before taking the Monkey King's head to sell it to a black market somewhere. The Danchou gives his consent for her to take it, not at all concerned of the treasure as much as he did with the others. The ruby eyes stay with them, however, becoming Pairo's favorite toys.
"I wonder where he has gone again," Valtiel muses to herself two days later, when she wakes without Chrollo again anywhere in the house.
His habit of appearing and disappearing has become a nuisance for: one, she is always caught unawares; two, she never knows when he would be back and therefore could not decide whether to prepare a meal for only herself or for them both.
She really does wish he would at least send her a message or two, now that she has a phone of her own, which buzzes once in a blue moon when Shalnark sends prank texts or whenever Nobunaga sends a message to the wrong person.
This morning, she received an uplifting message from Omokage, bidding her good morning and asking about her well-being. At least the puppeteer has some sense to ask for her, rather than the Danchou who could be anywhere in the world right now.
It is another cold afternoon, and the stillness that goes along with it bores her. She rises from her sitting position on the carpet and grabs her coat. Her stomach growls, and there is nothing else left in the fridge but Paku's leftover cooking from yesterday.
Her feet take her anywhere in the small town, passing by ancient shops and small bookstores. She has in mind to buy something light to eat, probably on her usual spot in the town square. The skies are grey and the winds cold−perfect for a hot chocolate drink.
Yet on her way to the café, she bumps with a certain photographer.
"Ah, Miss Eleison!" Kieran waves her over. He crosses the road and dodges a few cars passing by to get to her. He wears a denim jacket over a flannel shirt. His black camera is slung around his neck. "I was just about to go to your house. Good thing I bumped into you here."
"Did you need something?" She is wary in his presence now, aware that Chrollo once threatened to kill this young man and his family for doing nothing but talk.
"There's something I want to give you," he says, looking around the quiet street. "It's surprising that you're alone outside." He laughs. "You're always with Mister Eleison. He's out of town?"
"Oh, yes." She nods, a bit sheepish. "My, uh, husband… He always has business out of town…"
"Then can I interest you for a cup of coffee? Nothing malicious, of course!" He shakes his head wildly and waves his hands in the air. "You are a married woman after all! My friend recently opened a small shop and I'd like to take you there. Maybe we can even get a discount for the drinks."
She laughs, easing his nervousness. It seems both of them are wary of each other's presence. "That sounds lovely," she says. "I'd like to see it."
Kieran leads her down the street, walking in pace with her. He chatters about his latest project, which has him over the sea for a one-week trip. On the way to the café, he shows her the photos he had taken of various sceneries and ethnic groups, their lush farmlands and cattle, children in colorful woven clothes playing by the river. By the time they arrive, he finishes his story and promises to continue once they are settled with their orders.
There are only few people inside. A middle-aged man stands behind the counter to take everyone's orders. He beams and waves Kieran over, wonders if Valtiel is his newest girlfriend−which Kieran immediately denies. Valtiel giggles, trying to hide her growing anxiety, and the man introduces himself as Bolton. He offers them free drinks and the pair comes away to their seats, smiling and grateful.
Valtiel hums when her chocolate iced coffee arrives, despite the cold weather. Bolton offers her glazed donuts to go along with her drink, while Kieran is satisfied with his latte. "Thank you for this," she tells him.
"Bah. It's nothing." He grins and fumbles with the satchel he's carrying. "You can say it is a thank you for your cooperation more than two months ago. When I took photos of you, remember?"
"Oh, yes." Her lips press into a thin line. It was the same day Chrollo threatened his life.
"Well, the magazine was just published last week and I wanted to give you a copy as thanks." He produces a brown envelope and pulls out a thin magazine.
He flips to the page where Valtiel's photo is; she stands alone, with the sun in her face and the yellow of her dress making her appear brighter. The dark blue of the lake and the green grass blend into one good shot.
"My professor gave me the highest grade for this."
"That's a relief." Really, it is. Fancy having your photo taken only for the professor to bluff it? She would have been ashamed and locked herself inside the house for weeks.
"I also developed all the shots I have of you and Mister Eleison." From the envelope, he produces a transparent plastic with book-sized photos of herself and Chrollo. "Don't worry," Kieran says. "There's a collection of sizes, so you have each shot coming with a wallet size photo."
She nods and reviews them. This is the first time she sees herself in a photo, with Chrollo no less. Smiling wider, she thanks Kieran and keeps the envelope, magazine and all.
"So, what business does Mister Eleison do anyway?" he muses.
"Oh, he's−" She nips her lower lip, devising a quick lie. "He's a businessman."
"Any particular business?" he prompts, eyebrow arced.
He's a thief, her mind screams. A thief and a murderer, and he would have you killed if he finds us both talking about him. Perhaps he would kill me, too. Less burden for him. She shrugs and hides half of her face with the drink. "I'm not sure. He's a very reclusive man."
Kieran blinks once, twice. "Sounds like you don't know your own husband."
She blushes a deep red and says nothing.
He flinches from his seat. "Oh! Oh, no! I didn't mean to intrude!"
"It's fine," she murmurs, glancing away. "I suppose you're right, though. I'm with a man whom I barely know. He's kind and generous but apart from that…"
Her voice quavers. She could think of nothing else that would not damn Chrollo Lucilfer to a civilian. She has been with him for a year since her accident, and though she feels grateful and attached towards him, she knows he does not feel the same.
Foolish, foolish thoughts for a foolish girl.
"Perhaps you both need better communication," he suggests, shrugging. "My parents always communicate to avoid fights and misunderstandings. Plus, Dad can't stand it when Mom is angry with him."
"Is that so?" She chuckles. "Communication, yes. That sounds like a good idea."
"And maybe have date night every once in a while."
"Date night?" She has never heard of the term.
"Yeah. You know… Eating outside in fancy restaurants…"
"Oh, that." That quite reminds her of countless nights spent dining in lavish restaurants with Chrollo. It puts another soft smile in her face. "Yes, that's also lovely. Perhaps tomorrow night."
Kieran grins, mischievous. "Is tomorrow night a special night?"
She shakes her head, waving the thought away. "Not entirely, but tomorrow is indeed a special day."
That night, Chrollo returns home and finds Valtiel seated at the foot of the ebony clock. A golden sphere surrounds herself and Pairo, her ability working wonders to the panther cub, forcing slow and sluggish movements that it is almost incomprehensible to a normal person.
To someone like Chrollo, he could see each fraction of a second and each slow movement, inch by maddening inch, until the sphere dissolves as it always does. Pairo hisses at Valtiel and leaps away, pawing irritably at his eyes and head.
He raps his knuckles on the door. "I'm home, wife."
She starts, caught off-guard, and nods from her sitting position. "Welcome home."
"How is your training?" He removes his trench coat and lets it hang over the couch. He notices her own coat used, narrows his eyes a little, but says nothing. He crosses the living room and peeks at the table. A tray of glazed donuts awaits him. He munches on one. "You've been out?"
"With Kieran, yes." She studies his face, looking for any signs of hostility.
A faint shadow crosses his features, though he says nothing.
He simply nods and places a small box above the fireplace. When Valtiel stands to reach for it, he snatches it away from her grasp, holds it high above his head, and croons down on her. "It's not for tonight," he says, leaning his smug face closer.
She glares and stalks away. "For when is it then?"
"Hm? Tomorrow night?" He returns the box in its original place and reaches out for her. He is in one of his generous moods tonight, petting her like the doll he makes her feel. Not a person, but a doll. His lips press, soft and tender, on her ear. "You know what happens tomorrow, don't you?"
"It's a special occasion," she agrees. "Though I didn't expect you to look forward to it."
"I always look forward to it, whether I am alone or no." He chuckles and rubs his thumb over her cheeks, flushed from her training session with Pairo. A thin sheen of sweat glows under the orange lamp. He combs his fingers through her thick hair and rubs the tips between two fingers. "I have a surprise for you tomorrow."
"How very sweet," she mumbles.
"Perhaps by tomorrow you will find me a very good husband indeed."
She turns in his arms and weighs his steady gaze. She searches something in his eyes, a trick or a lie. As always, she drowns in his dark gaze and finds nothing. He stands so close, yet is still too faraway. She doesn't understand him, and even though she wants to, there is no telling to someone like him. She sighs in defeat−for now−and instead nestles in his warm embrace. As always, after a year, his arms come around her easily, pulling her flush against him, fitting her perfectly in his build.
"I don't doubt it," she whispers.
The next sunset, the pair is dressed in their finest−stolen−clothes. Valtiel wears a white maxi dress with roseate floral patterns, her hair pulled up in another messy chignon she has worked hard in achieving that afternoon. Chrollo wears a light purple button up polo and black pants. Beneath his polo, he is shirtless. He lets his raven hair down, swaying with the wind.
The road to the beach is painted with the red and orange of the setting sun, throwing their silhouettes dark and long behind them. Each of them carries something in their person, secret little things, that would be revealed once they reach their usual spot.
Valtiel skips as she walks, twirling when the wind blows stronger, whipping her hair and skirts. She digs her sandal-covered feet into the warm sands. Every once in a while, she would turn around and make sure Chrollo is still following behind. When he would raise an eyebrow, she would laugh and continue on her merry way.
At the other end of the beach, tall candles are burning under the shade of coconut trees. There is a large log washed onshore where the candles stand, orange flames guttering with the wind.
Valtiel pauses, not expecting such a scenery, and then it is Chrollo who is laughing, taking her hand, and leading her towards the spot. They sit on the white sands, surrounded by his scented candles, and listen to the rhythmic combination of waves, winds, and seagull cries.
"Upon your completion of your Nen training, I decided a reward is due," Chrollo starts. "You've done very well over the past few months, Val. Your progress was faster than what I would have expected, and your determination to finish training is admirable. And tonight−" The light of the sunset brightens his handsome face as he smiles−"I am proud to announce that you already graduate from Nen."
"Oh, thank you." She sighs in utmost relief. Nine months in the making, since late February to early November. She smiles earnestly at him. "I owe it all to your teaching and patience, and to Fei-san and Akamu-san. I could never ask for better teachers."
"Well, that's one thing finished." He chuckles and settles back to admire the orange sun. "There is another subject I would like to touch with you."
"Is there?" Her eyebrow raises, her voice mildly sarcastic. "What else could there be that you bring me all the way out here, with such an ambiance?" She gestures at the candles around them.
"You know exactly why I brought you here." Chrollo reaches out for her, his hand on the back of her neck, as he pulls her toward him so he could whisper in his low voice. His nose nuzzles in her hair.
He murmurs over her ear, "Happy birthday, my dearest," and kisses her hair.
She laughs against his neck. "Happy birthday as well, Danchou."
He pulls back and grins at her. "How convenient of us to share birthdays. Less hassle for the celebrations."
"True, though I'm wondering why the other Spiders are not here."
"Our celebration with them could wait. Right now, I only want you with me."
"Oh." She lowers her head to hide a blush.
"Oh?" Tearing his eyes away from the sunset, he could see her nervousness beneath a small smile. He chuckles, amused that she is not used to such treatment, and turns his entire body towards her, so that the sunset is on his right and his Kurta in front of him. He starts to reach for his pocket, and then pauses, as if a thought crosses his mind. "I have a surprise for you," he says. "Close your eyes."
Again, she raises an eyebrow, quite suspicious.
He laughs and holds her hand with his other. "Close your eyes, Val."
Nodding, she obeys and waits for his next movements.
Chrollo produces the same box from yesterday. He kisses her fingertips, then her palm, before opening her hands, palm up, towards him. He fixes the things in both wrists and tightens the straps around it. With a pleased smile, he says, "You can open them now."
She lifts her wrists to her gaze and finds two pitch-black gauntlets fastened from wrist to elbow. The leather is light and smooth, comfortable against her skin. She tries different angles and finds nothing wrong with it.
"It's your birthday gift," he says and proceeds with his proud explanation. "I had the gauntlet made by an infamous blacksmith from Azia. If you check here−" He points at the ring looped around her middle finger−"this is connected to a mechanism hidden inside the gauntlet. If you extend your finger and flick your wrist like so−" He guides her hand and flicks her wrist away from him−"you will see a hidden blade extending towards an enemy. This, along with Feitan's claws, should help you dispose of enemies."
"Wow," she breathes, incredulous. She glances at Chrollo and sees his beaming face−like a proud little boy. The sight would have been endearing, and his consideration of giving her a birthday gift would have been pleasant, if only he did not think of weapons and killing enemies on the same page. She is grateful still, and flicks her other wrist to send a second blade flashing like lightning.
"And the blade is poisonous," he adds, still beaming.
"You really put a lot of mind into this, didn't you?" she asks dryly.
"Not at all." He grins and motions for the needlepoint blades. "If you use Gyo, you could see the thin aura that produces the toxin. It is one of Benny Delon's works. Nobunaga and I are fans of his."
"You incorporated a dead man's knife with a gauntlet? Very creative."
"Do you like it?"
His enthusiasm about the matter is indeed very endearing that it makes her smile. "I love it."
"I am glad to hear that, but you should put it away for now." He helps her remove the straps and slips the gauntlets from her wrists. He returns them into the box and offers it to her. On his right, the reddening horizon swallows the setting sun, casting longer shadows about them.
"I have a gift for you, too," she says.
"For me? I should be honored to receive something from you," he croons.
"So close your eyes and don't peek, Danchou."
And so he does, and Valtiel pulls something from her skirt pocket and arranges Chrollo's hands, so that his palms are up and open. She glances at his face, his eyes closed and his lips curled into a smirk, and she drops her gift in his awaiting hands.
"Okay. Now open them."
When grey eyes open, they widen at once.
In his hands, he holds a small golden locket with ornate filigrees framing the sides. One side bears a thin plate of gold, while the other side shows two locks of hair, raven and pale gold, braided together. He knows at once to whom the locks belong, brushing his thumb over the glass that encases them inside.
Curiously, he opens the locket and a small photo of Valtiel and himself is within. He remembers this photo; their neighbor had taken this one so long ago. In the picture, he stands tall beside Valtiel, his arm around her waist and his eyes closed as he kisses her hair. Valtiel, in her yellow sundress, leans close and smiles sweetly at the camera.
He studies the locket from outside and inside, and notes with amusement, "This is a mourning locket."
"It is."
"Mourning lockets for a birthday present?" He still sounds perpetually amused. "They are given to commemorate the deceased members of a family. It should be the deceased's hair and photo inside."
"So you don't like it?" The feeling of dread threatens to swallow her whole.
"It's beautiful." Chrollo smiles at their hair intertwined together and at their photo. That is their first photo together, not that there would be a second one, however. Photos are a dangerous affair for the leader of the Phantom Troupe. He takes the locket and slings it around his neck, brushing against his bare chest.
The gold of the locket catches the sunset, glimmering as it hangs loose.
Valtiel reaches out and fingers the pendant. "I found it yesterday when I was wandering downtown," she mutters. "I wanted to give you something meaningful, a book perhaps, but you've been stealing books since time began and giving you another exhausts the meaningful thought."
"And the photo? Did Kieran give it to you?"
"He did." Her eyes shoot up to him, glaring. "So don't kill him."
"Perhaps I won't."
"It looks good on you." She sighs and looks up at his face.
The sun sinks ever lower, yet the burning candles stop the place from getting entirely dark. They smell of fresh cut roses and lavender combined. It intoxicates her, draws her ever toward the Danchou. With his serene expression and his soft smile, it is hard not to blush before his intense staring.
Abruptly, she says: "I have another gift for you."
He seems surprised. "Do you now? How generous of you, dear Val."
Her nervous fingers fiddle with the hem of her white skirt. "But first, you have to close your eyes."
Obeying, he heaves a deep breath and closes his eyes. The winds pick up again, swaying his hair and shirt; and the glare of the candles dance across his alabaster skin.
She scoots closer over the sand and stares long and hard at his face. Her fingers are frozen despite the warmth in the air, and her entire body is shaking. Her bangs fall across her eyes and she swipes at them hurriedly, almost afraid to miss a single beat. When she draws closer still, she smells coffee and old books on him. It is very much like the Danchou she knows.
I don't do anything by halves.
Heart hammering in her chest, Valtiel leans forward and places her lips over Chrollo's own for a soft, experimental kiss. She feels him stiffen in an instant, the shock of her bold actions forcing his eyes wide and open. Yet she pushes on, curious and experimenting, her lips searching for his and moving with soft, careful strokes.
Chrollo sits dazed for a few moments, eyes open yet seeing nothing. Not the beach. Not the candles and the trees. And certainly not the Kurta.
But he feels. He feels warm lips over his own, the touch of them sending thousands of confusing−yet undeniably pleasant−sensations.
As if a fire ignites within him, he weaves a hand through her platinum-blonde hair and gives a gentle tug, her messy bun coming undone over her shoulders and back. He pushes his lips back to her, meeting her every stroke, humming low as he tastes how sweet a Kurta could be. He hears her little sigh of delight, and he hears himself grunt in answer. It sounds more like a whine in his ears, needy and pathetic, and certainly not something that should come from the leader of the Phantom Troupe.
At that realization, he quickly withdraws from her, jaw set and tight. His dark eyes are ablaze with passion and confusion. He notes how Valtiel's lips have grown red and glistening, and knows that his own must be in the same predicament.
Then he stands, stiff like a statue, one hand over his mouth. He glares down on her so murderously that he could have killed her then and there.
"Danchou?" she calls out in her tender voice, confused. "What's wrong?"
"That was a mistake," Chrollo hisses at her. Voice cold beneath his mouth. "You shouldn't have done that."
With one last glare, he turns around to the opposite direction. His pace is fast and brisk; as if he would rather be anywhere else than in this place. The beach and his candles are forgotten in an instant. His gift to her and the mourning locket inconsequential to his anger.
Tears cloud her eyes even before Chrollo could disappear from her sight.
Valtiel draws her gaze down to the sand and lets the tears flow. She weeps for a decision gone wrong, for feelings rejected, and for his harsh words. She mourns for sabotaging whatever friendship she had with him by experimenting, for questioning what kind of relationship exactly she has with the Spider. They are friends, yes, during their childhood. They are partners, yes, whenever the mission demands. But they are not husband and wife. Not even lovers. That is her mistake.
Foolish thoughts for a foolish girl.
One strong gust and the candles die out, leaving her alone in the shadows.
Now Chrollo is gone again, and she is alone, hugging her knees and watching the waves crash over the rocks. She wants to disappear after that embarrassing mistake.
Would the waves break her body against the rocks if she plunges herself to the sea? Or would the waves sweep her away and drown her? Either option sounds better than going home and looking at Chrollo's face.
She could already imagine the downward pull of his sneer, the hatred gleaming in his dark eyes.
Brimming tears flow from her chin to her dress. She presses the heel of her palm to her eyes to stop the tears, but they are persistent. She buries her face in her skirts and sobs to the fabric.
Is this what heartbreak feels like? But she does not love Chrollo the same way as a romantic partner does. She admires and respects him, finds him charming and, yes, handsome and kind. Though he steals and murders, it doesn't stop her from acknowledging how strong he is as a person.
Perhaps it was his harsh reaction and words spit like venom that breaks her? How his usually gentle demeanor has turned into something dark and venomous in a split second? She weeps and cowers in fear, dreading the moment she has to go home.
Sunset stretches on to midnight.
Valtiel, having exhausted all the tears she has in her, decides to walk home. She leaves the candles where they stand, aware that the Spider leader would not give two cents about them. She walks home like a drunken man, with unsteady gait. I am drunk, she notes to herself. Drunk with delusion and heartbreak. I shall die before the dawn breaks and all the more reason for Danchou to celebrate.
She braces herself when she comes home, once again near tears. When she opens the door, it is not the dark face of Chrollo Lucilfer greeting her, but Pairo's eager face and low purring.
The Danchou is nowhere to be seen. The house is dark and cold, as if he has never been here.
She puts her birthday gift on the coffee table and meanders towards the fireplace, where something small and golden catches the moonlight. Her eyes are already heavy and bloodshot from crying.
Unbidden tears come forward again at the sight of the mourning locket discarded on the fireplace. Their intertwined locks and photo are still in place, the locket still in one piece−the only respite she has after imagining Chrollo smashing the locket or burning the photo in his anger.
Wiping her tears again, she takes the locket with her to the bedroom. She sluggishly removes her dress and lets it pool around her ankles, and then steps out of it. She changes into a nightdress before flinging herself to the bed.
Even the bed is cold, she notes with unwavering sadness. What a mournful day. Her eyes flutter shut, herself tired and emotionally spent.
She opens her eyes again and observes the locket, the moonlight on the glass reflecting her eyes. Her brows furrow then, as she notices the bright tinge of red in her eyes.
Like a women crazed, she fumbles for a mirror and holds it over her face.
The bright, iridescent glow of the Scarlet Eyes is unmistakable. Even in the dimness of the room, the scarlet overwhelms the gold and dances over the flecks. Paired with her tears, the irises glimmer like a wave of red-and-gold. She blinks at her reflection and grows more confused with each passing second.
Scarlet Eyes? But how? Since when did I−
Her phone buzzes from underneath her pillow. She has forgotten to bring it to the beach with her.
She ignores all thoughts of the Scarlet Eyes as she finds four missed calls and a handful of unread messages. The notification lists the unread messages as fourteen. It knocks the breath out of her. Who in the world would send her fourteen messages in a span of six hours? When she opens each one, she sighs and understands at once.
17:58 Kortopi-san: Happy birthday, Valtiel. I hope you are well on this special day.
18:21 Machi-san: I wish you and Danchou a very happy birthday, Val.
18:33 Yuan-san: Happy birthday, Miss Valtiel. I'm wishing for your good health. Take care always.
19:05 Phink-san: Happy birthday, doll face! Alright! You're 18 now, aren't you? Or is it 19?
19:07 Franklin-san: Phinks was just asking me about your age. Don't tell him. He's a bad friend if he doesn't know how old his friends are… Happy 17th birthday, Val.
19:10 Phink-san: Oh shit wait. You're 17? I thought Shal is the 17 one?
19:56 Paku-san: Good evening, Val. Happy birthday! I imagine you and Danchou are having fun together. I would love to come back but I am on a mission with Nobunaga. Say hello to Pairo for me.
20:12 Nobu-san: Happy birthday, kid. I almost forgot it's your special day, too. Spare me some cakes, yeah? See you, but not soon, I hope.
20:13: Nobu-san: And ice cream, don't forget. Uvo has a weird craving for ice creams.
21:47 Shal-san: Happiest birthday to two of my favorite people in the world! Wishing you every happiness Val and Danchou! (ω) Let's see each other soon!
21:53 Fei-san: Don't flatter yourself. Shal forced me to message… Happy birthday, little girl… You better train your claws or I flay your fingers.
21:54 Shal-san: Never mind Feitan. He's just shy
22:11 Uvo-san: Oh! Happy birthday, kiddo! Too bad the Troupe didn't get to celebrate this time. I'll buy you ice cream and balloons when we see next time, don't worry! (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
23:00 Omokage-san: My, how time flies. It has been a full year since your accident, isn't it? I hope you are well in the care of our esteemed Danchou. Has he told you more than he should, or do your memories still deceive you? Either way, I wish you a wonderful birthday, dearest poppet.
The amount of cheerful messages overwhelms her that she forgets the heavy feeling in her heart and the confusion in her different-colored eyes. She sinks back to the bed and replies to all the messages, and within moments, she receives reply from the other Spiders.
00:14 Phink-san: Nah. It's nothing, doll face. Go to sleep. It's late already.
00:16 Machi-san: You're always welcome, Val. Good night.
00:17 Fei-san: Is late. Go sleep. You will need to grow stronger.
00:20 Shal-san: Good night, Val! Sleep tight! And don't let Danchou bite! ( ^ ᴗ ^ )
Valtiel smiles sadly and puts her phone on the bedside table. She removes all of Chrollo's pillows away from her side of the bed and hogs the entire blanket for herself. Her eyes are heavier, a mixture of dried tears and sleepiness. Her phone continues buzzing, and despite the nagging feeling, she ignores it; the messages could wait until tomorrow.
As sleep takes her, a dark shadow looms over the bed. She sighs in contentment.
Perhaps Death has come to take her tonight, after all.
Author's Notes: (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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Here's everyone's long-awaited kiss! But like I said, you guys have been warned. stopped working and Valtiel's heartbroken. Not much to say here, folks. I'll leave everything to your judgement! Did Chrollo do the right thing? Or was is really Val's fault on her part?
*xenocanaan - No worries! Despite his parents' "separation", Pairo is still alive! Chrollo needs to start filing visitation papers.
*Coolfire30 - Absolutely loved your last review! Great observation there! Right now, I'm just not sure whether that still applies to their relationship. Chrollo basically "rage quit" on Val at that beach. He is always subtle in his manners, but now it seems he just exploded. Too many emotions to process, perhaps? And it all fell on poor Val...
And about the Chrollo being almost close to canon material... I believe fangirling on this bastard since sixth grade up until now does have its wonders. XD Not to mention being a fan of HXH for as long as I can remember.
*Aurora Clarion - As a massive fangirl, a possessive, obsessive, full-of-jealousy, yandere freak Chrollo gives me life. And I love how you also described him as unreachable and unreadable. He is indeed one mysterious character!
*HuangShaotian0005 - You mentioned something before about Chrollo leaving Valtiel? Well, here it is now! I̶'̶m̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶!̶
*Amy - I'm happy to be back! It'd be lovely to picture Chrollo and Val being a happy family... but that's in an alternate universe. Sadly. I would still live to believe that Chrollo cares for her in his own strange, twisted way. But this guy's a thief and a murderer, and there's no telling when it comes to him.
*HII - We all love a very possessive Chrollo. *wink wonk*
Thank you all for patiently waiting for the update and for reading this special chapter! Can't say what would be up for the next chapter, but if you guys have any recommendations, suggestions, opinions, violent reactions, let me know! ;)