𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟒𝟎 | 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘

Everyday Pleasures

"WHO are you?" (Y/N) asked as she brandished her scythe out in front of her, the weapon practically crackling because of her Nen, the sheer force of it almost making Pakunoda back up. "And why were you following us?"

"The boss wants you back," Pakunoda answered, referring to Chrollo.

(Y/N)'s eyes narrowed.

No matter how far she ran or how well she hid, it was as if Chrollo knew her each and every move so that he could find her and try and force her back to him. She knew Chrollo couldn't love her, because he was someone who couldn't love, only entrap. The way he looked down at her with those cold grey eyes of his when she had left was all but proof of that.

"For trying to uproot what I have already decided must be true, I will kill you where you stand," (Y/N) announced as she stared at Pakunoda with utter remorse. "I take pity on your soul that has been corrupted by the likes of him."

With that, she lunged forward.

Swinging and spinning her scythe around her fingers and body to deflect the bullets that were now being shot at her, she surprised Pakunoda by disappearing into one of her wispy portals and reappearing right behind her. Just as (Y/N) swung her blade down, Pakunoda had already bounded away with incredible reflexes. Clicking her tongue and pulling her weapon from the cement that had cracked from the force applied, she continued to battle with the Phantom Troupe member.

Illumi merely watched.

He knew he could've very well stepped in to assist (Y/N), but he chose not to.

It wasn't like she needed help

Instead, he observed.

The way (Y/N) lithely moved with the scythe as if it were a part of her body astounded him, as even he wasn't as perfectly in tune with wielding a weapon like she was. He had noticed it the first time they crossed paths when she killed that boar between him and Hisoka, and again during the Forest Hunt when she fought against him to gain his badge.

She was an impressive woman.

It was one of the many reasons why he could just watch her for hours on end.

Even when thinking that she was a male, he still found himself inexplicably drawn to her and her power. He couldn't get enough of her, which was the very reason why he approached her in the first place, but he didn't think he'd wind up like this. Running his hand through his long black hair, his usual expressionless demeanor quickly contorting as many various emotions ran through him, he blended into the shadows, and when the time was right, threw out his needles towards Pakunoda, clicking his tongue when she sensed his bloodlust and maneuvered away.

She's part of Chrollo's Troupe, that's for sure...

Annoyingly enough.

(Y/N), sensing Illumi's agitation, exhaled softly. Yet, that wasn't enough to distract her from her fight. Pakunoda was quite skilled with her guns, the bullets shot from them charged with Nen. What type of Nen was unknown, but there was something about them that made her skin crawl, almost like she had to avoid them at all cost.

"Illumi," (Y/N) called out to him, the way his name sounded from her tongue making a shiver dance up his spine.

"Yes?" He hummed, ignoring the feeling.

"Do you perhaps know what type of Nen she possesses?" She asked in reference to Pakunoda as she backed up towards him, the edges of her black cloak rippling in the breeze. "And what those bullets of hers are?"

"All I know is that she's one of Chrollo's legs," he muttered whilst throwing out more pins.

"Hm..."

Widening her stance, she stared Pakunoda down, her Ren exploded from her in waves with such malicious intent behind it that both Illumi and Pakunoda couldn't help but freeze where they stood. The pure malice behind her bloodlust was almost insatiable, and almost in a league completely beyond their comprehension.

"I don't care what your Nen is or what it does, but I will not allow you to bring me back," (Y/N) uttered as she raised her scythe above her head, the two before her truly seeing her as a visage of death in that moment. "No one can."

Allowing her Nen to seep into every part of her body, (Y/N)—moving so fast she was gone from her spot in the blink of an eye—was suddenly in front of Pakunoda, her (E/C) eyes blazing.

"Repent," she whispered lowly.

As (Y/N) swung her scythe down, Pakunoda could see her life flashing before her eyes.

There she was, a child.

Meteor City.

Her uncanny ability to "read people like a book," as Chrollo once stated to her so long ago.

Her once friends, Sheila and Sarasa.

Voicing over Power Cleaners.

Forming the Troupe.

Massacring dozens and stealing riches.

As she saw all of this, Pakunoda couldn't help but wonder if the life that she had lived was one that would be deemed worthless. To the eyes of an outsider, maybe it was, but all she could remember was how much fun she had with those she called her friends. With those who accepted her for who she was and vice versa. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered her joyous and saddened times with the Troupe, wishing that it would always remain.

But it couldn't.

Steeling herself, Pakunoda raised her hand and caught (Y/N)'s arm just as her blade pierced her neck, her dark eyes widening as she instigated her Nen and shouted, "Who are you!?"

She froze.

There was pain.

So much pain.

As a specialized Nen-type user, Pakunoda regarded her Psychometry as something she has always had since she was little, even if it was just because of her observance skills that made it so. Yet, never before had she seen one person carrying decades worth of pain along their shoulders. (Y/N)'s was overwhelming.

The question that she had asked was a simple one, yet (Y/N) was a complex person.

Memories upon memories of (Y/N)'s thousand-plus year life filled Pakunoda's mind, watching as she grew up tormented and tortured and experimented on until her very sense of self was decimated, leaving her as nothing but a hollow shell of who she used to be—as a weapon designed for one purpose: to kill. It wasn't long before she donned the name 'Reaper,' and became known as the entity that could wipe out thousands with just a flick of her wrist. She was abused and scarred and tortured endlessly until there was nothing left. Yet even with all of that suffering, she was still able to kill off those who had hurt her, but at a price.

It was a heavy toll.

As Pakunoda relived those memories of (Y/N), as she cried tears for the woman in front of her, she raised her gun with her Nen-laced bullets and shot just as the scythe swiped cleanly through her neck.

Her body dropped to the ground.

Not even a second later, (Y/N)'s did too.

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To be continued...