Hate You Most | Kurapika x reader

[𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 25] - 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘮 𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘦

Her misfortune started long before her arrival. Before ever staining her hands. She made mistakes that set the course of her future.

8 years ago...

Even if Y/n were to cry out in distress, there was no one to save them. There were no saviors here. Not in this city — but she didn't know that.

On the stone floors, covered in dust, Y/n curled herself into her knees hoping this ache in her back would sooth her from the anguish blazing in her heart. Her small hands, longer than the depth of their pockets, trembled against her chest.

If disease didn't kill them, starvation would.

"Y/n, look up there," her mother said, pointing out the broken window. "The stars are out."

Y/n weakly lifted her eyes and peered out into the sky. The night was endlessly dark, but through it all, small flickers of light guided them.

"Pretty."

In the night, when she couldn't sleep, Y/n found herself gazing upon them, and it brought her a sense of peace. Though she couldn't quite figure out why — but nevertheless, it kept her heart safe.

A cold hand weakly wrapped around her wrist, a useless grab at her attention. Her mother lay, rested up against the rough brick, attempting to lure Y/n's attention to her. "Be quiet," she hushed, her voice sounding meeker than Y/n had ever heard. "I hear footsteps."

Y/n struggled against her body as it cried out in pain, and surged to her feet.

"What are you doing?" her mother called, the rasp eating at her words as she tried to pronounce them.

"I'm going to get you help!"

The smile she stretched past her cracked cheeks trembled. If she wasn't able to get help, what use was she?

"No, Y/n stay here," she whispered, desperate for her words to reach the young girl.

She ignored her mother's pleads and followed the sound of the footsteps.

That was her first mistake.

The night spanned the city, covering the cruel view away from her sight. Maybe had she been born as anyone other than herself would she have been disgusted by the horrors that hid itself away in the pockets of the slums. Rats, mold, decaying flesh. The smells that had been her standard.

But now, she was able to pick up something that didn't belong. It was almost disturbingly pleasant. It beckoned her in, like flies to rot. Her mother seamlessly faded out into the background as the young girl surged forward.

There was no time to return and comfort her dying mother, she needed to get her help. It was as if the gods heard their prayers she had told herself.

Y/n peered out into the hallway. The structure was broken down and on the verge of collapse, but it felt like home. She never much liked intruders, but these ones she would outstretch her arms to.

Two people stood at the end of the long walls of brick. A woman, warm like the sunset creeping below the horizon; and a man, who had a presence of a darkness without end.

"Hello?" Her voice was small, but it carried its weight, the man reflecting back her word.

"Hello," he called.

He spoke the exact same language she did, but the regal tone almost made it seem as if he appeared from the tales her mother would whisper her to sleep.

Y/n stepped closer, clutching the hems of her spoiled shirt. There was a deafening silence, the only sound was her little footsteps.

"Please help me," she said.