DISCOVERY ➴ Chrollo x Reader

XLVIII. Nothing

> I'll be assuming 1 Jenny is approximately 1 Yen / Cent / Penny

Mrs. Drouff took two looks at me before stopping in her tracks and asking about my hair. I must've looked absolutely distraught as I made up an excuse—something about having dropped some glue while repairing the floor—because she ushered me out of the pub repeating the directions to the nearest hairdresser while forcing a ziplock bag with what I assumed were my tips from the last days onto my hand.

I sighed as she closed the door to the pub, not accepting my assurances that I'd visit the hairdresser after my shift was over, and followed her directions to a small house with zero indication that there was any business being conducted there, apart from a small arrow to the side door with a comb symbol drawn over it. 

I was received by a chatty old lady who fixed my hair to the best of her ability in no time. It felt odd looking at myself in the mirror now that I had a different haircut but... I didn't care much, nerves and panic swelled in my belly every time someone opened the door. I noticed a crisp 10000 Jenny note rolled next to the several coins that made a lot more sense as tips. I paid with the coins and saved the note for later, maybe Mrs. Drouff had accidentally added it to my ziplock bag.

I walked back, looking around me, waiting for a sign, for someone to recognize me and arrest me. I knew I looked different from the picture they had used in the newspaper, it was grainy, and it was a local paper... but he had to know... the lawyer... he could simply tell the police I worked at the pub.

Once I got to the pub, I tried my best to act normal while my body went through all possible stages of illness and nausea. Every time someone called my name I filled with dread, every time the door ringed as someone walked inside or outside, I trembled in anticipation for the worst. 

The day went by, and nothing happened. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not a thing. I kept looking around waiting for the chip to fall but nothing. Mrs. Drouff walked in at the end of my shift, and her lips quirked up once she took in my new haircut. "It looks much better, Y/N!"

"Thank you...  Ah, right!" My hand sunk into my pocket, pulled out the ziplock bag, and I showed it to Mrs. Drouff. "Mrs. Drouff, you must've accidentally added this note to my tip bag."

"No, it was in the tip jar for you." She waved me off, as she took over the bar, and took her bearings.

"What?" My mind was too muddled to take in the exorbitant tip. There was no way I had received it.

"Yeah. You can keep the bag, I'll start a new one for this week." She smiled and picked up a cleaning rag to pass over the counter.

"Okay..." I stood, unable to process the entire day. No one had come to arrest me. No one had called me out for being a criminal. And someone had given me an insane tip. Nothing made sense.

"You should head home dear, it's getting late!" Mrs. Drouff's voice echoed before she turned to greet the customers.

"Right." I sprung to action, waving to some people inside the pub before leaving and walking in uneasy silence back to home. It felt cold to go home to an empty house, to cook something simple and honestly not very tasty, to look at the unfinished fixes, to know what could've been and to go to sleep in aunt Bertie's room knowing damn well that the other room was empty and that I could probably switch over.

The next day went about the same. I kept an eye on my tip jar, but it continued to slowly fill with coins. Nothing was out of the usual. No one asked me about Chrollo like they used to, and I hadn't been arrested.

The day after and the day after that continued to be filled with a nervousness that made me sick to the stomach. And nothing happened.

How?

Where was the police?

Where was the public shunning?

Where was Chrollo?

It felt like nothing had happened at all... Had I made it all up?

No.

It had happened...

Right? 

Two more days passed... and I honestly thought I had gone crazy. Just what was happening? Better yet... why was nothing happening?

I was once more told by Mrs. Drouff to go home, that my shift was over, and I complied. I struggled to unlock the door, it creaked open and whined behind me as I closed it. The kitchen light was on, had I left it on? I really was losing my mind. I had to. I dropped my jacket and my keys, shuddered with the humid cold that seemed to always haunt the house. Maybe aunt Bertie really was appalled by my manners and the cold was her way of showing her displeasure.

I huffed a coarse laughter and ambled to the kitchen, knowing I might as well start to boil some water to make a soup, it was not like I had anything else to do.

At least not that I knew of.

At least not until I saw the table set for two, the boiling pot on the stove, the mouthwatering smell of well roasted fish, the sound of a knife hitting the cutting board in a way very rhythmic and precise...

What the fuck was going on...

"Missed me, Y/N?" A smooth voice I knew far too well washed over me like a tsunami wave. I remained frozen underneath the door frame, even when his figure appeared from the left, holding a cutting board with diced vegetables, as he moved to drop them into the pot.

"Y/N?" He turned to face me, eyes taking over my from top to bottom, pausing a significant amount of time over my hair. "What-"

My knees weakened, and I felt my brain jump into overdrive as I fell to the ground, consciousness still undecided on whether to leave me or remain with me as I heard his voice fade into nothing but a whisper and watched the world turn black.

Author's Note: As per usual, nothing really happening. Not that it ever does in this fic.