Illumi x Reader Book 2 - Toybox

Chapter 1

I'm not quite finished playing with my new favorite toy~

Catch me If you can, Unless I catch you first

Hisoka~

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It's been a little over two years now since that day. 

A 'toy'. Yea right. I'm no one's toy, I scoffed lowly trying to regain focus.

I take a deep breath looking up at the ceiling of the training hall in the Zoldycks estate. I wipe the sweat off of my forehead looking straight in front of me where I had originally been looking. 

I clench my fists and take another swing at the punching bag I had been hitting once before. 

I'm going to kill him...

Swinging at the bag, again, and again, and again.

My hands are starting to hurt now with how violently I have been hitting the bag for the last hour non-stop.

"You should stop at some point you know" I hear a voice say bluntly from behind me.

I pay no mind and continue what I had been doing for the last hour. 

What was I doing again?

'Training?' 

It sure didn't feel like it. 

More like taking out my anger in one form or another. 

Possibly just blowing off steam?

I swear the next time I see that clown bastard I'm going to hurt him... I'm more than strong enough to do a desirable amount of damage to him the next time I see him.

I'll be more than ready to fight him.

I didn't spend the last 2 years training day in and day out for nothing.

I take another harsh swing at the bag.

All those days and nights that I have wanted to give up. 

The times I wanted to drop to the ground and say it's over and that I couldn't do it any longer, I had to push through.

I throw another swing at the bag in front of me this time more violently.

Every time I fell to my knees as if it was the end as if I had been so powerless against the world that stood before me.

Feeling as I could never be strong enough to beat someone like him, to stand against him and hold my own. 

I had stood back up and I worked until I could work no more. 

Once again I swing at the bag.

That's what these last 2 years have been about. The tiring suffering I had endured in order to get stronger to beat Hisoka. 

No, to kill him.

The countless hours, countless days, and nights of suffering weren't for nothing.

For all the scars and wounds I have received, my pride that had been shattered and broken to pieces, my body that refused to let me move anymore the overexertion and trauma my body had to physically endure, and the pure adrenaline and hatred I had for that man.

Is what helped me push through and move forward

The lingering thoughts of him that I would have.

His blood, being shed by my hands.