Soon after Kurpakia restricted Chrollo's nen, he finally resumes his main goal, to take back the crimson eyes of his fallen brethren, yet his mission comes to a halt when something unexpected happens, something that not even his scariest nightmares...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Kurapika knew that using a fake replica of the eyes would be bound to be of use, he knew she was out there and that she recognized the eyes, therefor she took them, so some part of her still connects with them whether it's her sub-conscience or not, the important thing is yes, she still associated herself with them.
He was wise to put a tracker on the replica as well.
He wanted to leave some space in between them, he wanted to examine her patterns, her constant whereabouts, her normal routine.
Perhaps a part of him was too terrified to see her after months of her disappearance, or maybe it was just an excuse to see if she'd lead him to the spider's nest.
Yet, as much as he wanted to justify not physically being able to muster up the courage to physically lay eyes on her, he knew that he would have to, eventually.
Perhaps she won't recognize him, perhaps she's brainwashed, who knows, he sure didn't and that could possibly be the thing that terrifies him the most.
No, not her remembering him, no, it was the fact that if she were brainwashed to the fact that she believed that she was under the impression that he was the enemy and that she actually 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 him. That's the thought he couldn't bare.
In a world where her (e/c) eyes didn't sparkle at him, but in a world where her eyes glimmered bloodlust at him. It shook him, causing his hands to physically shake, causing his knees to tremble at the thought, he pauses as he leans on the brick wall of the building in the alleyway.
His warm back laid itself upon the cool brick of the building, yet it does nothing to soothe his anxiety.
His vision begins to have small black spots cloud his vision as he pulls his shakey hand to hold his slightly throbbing head.
He needs to control himself, he needs to get a grip on the reality at hand, this is pivotal. This wasn't a moment in time to show weakness or hesitation.
The blonde Kurta then removed the said hand from cupping his head, now looking at his wrist where a watch reflects itself, his vision seeing the little green dot that reads hardly ten meters away.
