by Claricius

Prologue: Uncertainties

What is this I’m feeling? So uncertain…so unsure…so unacceptable. If anyone would have discerned this, they would turn away from me in disgust. This fame-hungry society would certainly turn its back on poor little Neon, that naughty child of the infamous Light Norstrard. Who cares, anyway?

No one really cared for me. And it hurts. It hurts so much…

No one cares, not even otousan…

Otousan, my dear otousan…how could you be so far away from me? How come that whenever you’re around, I could not feel your love, if there was any? I know you have given me all I ever wanted, from the finest luxuries a teenage girl dreams of, to the rarest treasures that an avid collector desires. I appreciate your efforts to please me, but…do you really do this willingly, like a father’s real love for his daughter, without any condition? Or are you just using me for your own lust for power and wealth? Thinking of it makes me sick. Have you ever been a real father to me?

Have you ever been loyal to…to mother’s memory? I know you have lots of women flocking over you like bees to a hive because of your money, but you deserve to be happy, right? After all, okaasan’s long gone now. Funny, I have to defend you a bit…funny how I have to pretend to be blind and never sense your dirty work. But…

Do you really care for me? I tried to pretend that you do. You lavished me with all the riches this world could give but not all could afford, yet I had never felt the warmth in them. Not a bit. I don’t need these trendy outfits, these lovely jewelries, these valuable corpses…I don’t need fame. I only need your love. Why can’t you feel that I need you…your fatherly presence? I need someone to hold me tight and protect me from all of them…a real father does that, right? But why couldn’t you be one?

Because of this, I have to wear a mask. A very ugly mask. I have to be Neon the bratty girl, who’d always throw tantrums at anyone if I haven’t got what I wanted. I have to try to be the rightful owner of the Lovely Ghost Writer. If it weren’t for my predictions, maybe you’ll reject…me…your own daughter. No, if I have not been born as a clairvoyant being, maybe you’ll become much closer to me.

And we’ll live life simply. We’ll live in a simple cottage surrounded by a lush and serene landscape stretched out before our eyes, which to me is much lovelier than the trimmed lawn and marble fountains of our manor. And we’ll eat simple meals in a table near a hearty fireplace; simple meals yet healthy and enjoyable. And we’ll talk about simple things, the simple joys of everyday living, and not about how to make money by killing rivals and enemies, or any other eccentric act of the sort. And we’ll work hard to earn money, not too much, not too less, but just enough to fill the gap in our bellies. Everyday, we’ll toil like simple beings under the glorious rays of the sun, and after a day’s work we’ll rest peacefully under the star-studded blanket of night, engulfing us into the soothing realm of slumber, dreaming about what might happen the next day. Day after day we’ll live like ordinary people without big financial problems to continually fret about.

Though we’ll live simply, love will fill our lives. We will see love in every simple thing. We will see love in the warmth of a cheery little fireplace. We will see love in the sweet chatters of little birds flitting near a huge tree. We will see love in the ripples of a tranquil river. We will see love in the warm smiles of our neighbors. And I cannot see love in the blazing scarlet eyes of a dead Kuruta tribesman. Oh my…I just received another surge of shivers trailing down my back.

If we had been simple folks living a simple life, we will never need a bodyguard following us around wherever we go. I hate it! I feel like a prisoner being guarded with whatever I do. I want to be freed from the clutches of this horrible nightmare. Ha ha, I forgot; this is reality. Oh, how I hate this ability, this ability to predict the future! I want to be free from this…this curse.

Those people who say that I’m lucky enough to be able to know the future, damn them all! They say that it is a gift. A gift of looking into the future. Liars! All of them! Sure, knowing what will happen can help you avoid committing a mistake, and I feel good whenever I know that I have helped someone avoid impending danger, but…but…they are the only ones who are enjoying it! And I was the one left here to suffer! Because of this…gift…this curse, otousan had to go away and promote my ability to the whole world and use me as a business! And he had to leave me with these guards in order to protect my life from imminent peril. He is the father, so why couldn’t he be the one to protect me? Damn those business rivals of his! Because of them, he had to be away and leave me to the care of some paid stranger that was supposed to ensure my life’s safety.

Daltzorne is gone now, my ever loyal bodyguard. At least he cared a bit for me. Stupid me…of course he didn’t! He only did this because of work! Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed at the thought of getting paid well by just taking care of a bratty little girl? Well, it must have been hard for Daltzorne to tolerate my selfish ways, but, he endured my naughtiness and took great responsibility over me. Like a real father. Ridiculous! He wouldn’t be a father to me! He only did this to earn my father’s trust. But…how come he is concerned of my welfare? How come he didn’t allow me to go that night in the auction, when all the others were savagely murdered? Was only it because father told him to do so? Or could it be that he cared…oh, of course not, that’s pure nonsense. But…why? Maybe…just maybe…maybe he cared, at least a bit, for me…

And now I feel alone. So alone. Why think about such things, little girl? You’re not alone! You still have your remaining bodyguards and relatives, and your father, to protect you!

And that new bodyguard, Kurapika.

There goes this feeling of uneasiness again…this sucks so much. Why do I feel weird whenever I think of him? Could it be…?

I envy him. He seemed to be at peace everyday. He seems to be very calm about his work. It seems that he isn’t troubled and bothered of what’s happening around him. He seemed to be used to this sinister side of the world. But could it be…could it be that he is wearing a mask, too? Could there be horrible secrets lurking deep inside your heart, Kurapika-san?

Your eyes, you kept them behind those contact lenses. But why would someone hide such beautiful eyes from others? Why would you want to keep your blue eyes from us? I feel uneasy at seeing you were those lenses. Maybe if I’ll picture you never hiding your eyes, and seeing them in their full glory…there, that’s much better. Just looking at them, I mean…thinking about them, would momentarily bring me to another world more peaceful than ours.

Those eyes of yours…they are the colour of the blue summer sky. They are the colour of a sea with its gently slopping waves at peace with the perfect weather. How I love them, how I love the look of tranquility encased within them. How I’d wish you’d stop wearing your contact lenses. I hope that someday, I’ll see you smiling with your cerulean eyes all aglow with happiness.

The moment our eyes had met, I had seen a hint of perplexity on your eyes. Who wouldn’t be surprised, anyway, at the knowledge of having a girl, in this case, a very naughty one, as your boss?

You have felt a bit of concern when you learned that it was because of my nen which made my father rich. Even though you did not show it, I had felt it here, inside my heart. I thought I had found my savior. The savior that I had long awaited to free me from being a toy. The savior that would understand and accept the real me. The savior who would whisper me words of reassurance, that everything will be ok; such wonderful music in my ears. The savior whom I would confide my fears with, and find the strength to live freely, as if unaware of the disturbing events happening around.

I saw it in your eyes. The moment you had heard that one of my targets in this auction were the crimson eyes of the Kuruta. I saw it. The fire quenched long ago was rekindled again in your eyes, and the fire in them leapt for joy at the good news of having the eyes of your dead tribesmen returned to their rightful graves. How did I come to know about such things? How did I know what you were thinking at that time? I felt them. I felt them inside my heart. I don’t know how to perceive the rhythmic sound of people’s hearts like Senritsu does, but, it’s as if fate had opened my ears for a moment to listen at your silent murmurs of rejoicing, and at your silent cursing at the ghastly pirate group, the Genei Ryodan.

The Genei Ryodan, they must be exterminated! They are the ones that must suffer, not me! They are the ones who had made many innocent lives miserable! They are the cause of your misery, Kurapika! So it is they that you must torment, and not me…not me…not…me…

It hurts so much. All these revelations, I hate it, how it plagues my very heart, how it clouds my very mind! I hate it! Oh why, oh why, couldn’t I get you out of mind? Your formality, your small concern for me. Your smile that I had not yet seen, the wrath that you had tried to control but still surfaces in your eyes. Your irrepressible anger that had kept you strong all the time, your silent suffering that made you weak inside. I know that you are just a boy crying inside. Yet I admire your strength, the way you handled your ordeal, the way you have kept it all. In one way or another, you and I are similar. Similar, yet so different. Similar because we both had suffered greatly, different because it was not your fault that so great a burden was cast upon your weary shoulders; but it was my very own fault that everyone shuns away from me and my bratty attitude. Similar because we tried to hide it all inside, different because you took it calmly like a mature young man; but I took it like aggressively like an attention-hungry little girl.

Yet, it was you who suffered the most, not I. I guess I am just being insecure. To be honest, if I were to judge who, between the two of us, is luckier, it is I. Indeed, I have lived richly behind the manor’s great walls with all the security I haven’t asked for but given freely by father. I was indulging myself in the glamorous lives of the upper class of society, not even aware that there was a lonely boy who was standing alone, drenched by blood and rain, eyes sullen from crying, gazing at the dead bodies of his comrades slaughtered like cattle by a merciless gang of thieves. I wish I could go back time, back to that day, five years ago when the Kuruta were murdered ruthlessly just because of money, and greed. I wish I was there to comfort that forlorn lad, to hold him close to me, to soothe the aches of his body, his mind, his soul. I wish I was there before it had all happened to warn him of ill fortune that would befall his people.

Now, I could only see a strong man with a vulnerable heart standing before me with those dull eyes. How I wish I could make you cry…I’d bet that you had never let your tears flow freely form your eyes. And crying is the only way that would help ease the burden you had held deep inside you heart, right? That’s what I do, cry myself to sleep. And it hurts me much to see you suffer. It breaks my heart. I want to share that hidden anxiety with you, but you are so far away. You never speak a word unless needed, so opening up a light conversation with you will be hard. I reckon that you’ll never bother talking about nonsense, about silly little things normal kids talk about. I had tried to be close to you, but you move away. You want to make others think that you don’t need any help and that you can handle this alone, all by your self.

Until that day came.

It was the first time you had killed somebody, right? You were stained with the blood of the enemy. I had sensed your suffering, again, just like before. Only that your suffering had increased much greatly than before.

You had felt so impure. You had felt like you were one of them.

They say that you are a heartless murderer. But I think likewise. They had only seen the cold glare of a criminal. They did not look deeper inside those eyes of yours which I had admired for so long now. I only see a lonely being, unwilling to kill, but moved by a sense of great responsibility to his people that he dared risked his own happiness, just to satisfy their cries for justice.

Yes, like them, you had stolen life from a being, but there is a big difference between you and them. You had killed for a purpose, which is to avenge the murder of your kinsmen, while they killed just for the sake of fun, just for the sake of being hailed as great gods of war, just for the sake of money.

And I cried for you that night, yes I had cried. No one knows it. The sole purpose of my tears was to mourn for you. They thought that I had cried just because I did not get what I wanted. But they were mistaken.

Looking at the mirror, I do not see Neon the brat anymore. In her place is a young woman, suffering with all the pains that her beloved had endured.

To be honest, I had never felt like this for someone before. In the past, I wouldn’t even care is someone is suffering a bit from the consequences of my actions. I had been blind to what they try to express, deaf to what they try to say, numb to what they feel.

Could it be that this feeling is…is love?

Then it is true. It is true, of what they say about love. Yes, love, it makes even the sturdy mountains quiver, it makes even the rich riverbeds dry. It could transform an ugly being, a disdain to all mankind, to a lovely and heavenly creature in the eyes of those who loved her. At the same time, it hurts so much; the flames of love slowly devouring your very heart. The consequence of loving with all your heart is also suffering with all your heart.

The moment when you came back, clothes all tattered by the shears of the restless wind, fresh bloodstains dotted all over your shirt, realization suddenly hit me; that you had only worked for my father because of your oath to fulfill your duty to your kinsmen. You only served him for the sake of vengeance. And that you never cared if you’d risk my life just to avenge their murder. You had used my fame as a protection; a barrier where you could shelter yourself against your foes. I felt that I was going to die. My hopes of having someone to love and care for me without any condition were shattered. And I hate you.

You are just like one of them. You are just like one of them who wanted to use me for their own selfish ambitions.

Now, I feel so alone. I feel like a homeless child wandering through the bustling city streets.

I see a beggar sitting alone at the side of the streets. She was shivering in the cold, groping her hungry belly from time to time. Everytime people would pass by, she would look up hopefully at them, wishing that at least one of them owns a compassionate heart. As expected, not all cared to give attention to her. Passersby would just give a quick glance at her, and then shake their heads in disapproval. In their minds, they would think about why would such a girl beg in these cold city streets? If she had worked hard at the beginning, then maybe she wouldn’t end up in such a poor state now. She’s still young; she must not waste her life doing such a shameful act. Or maybe others would react differently. Rich and famous people would give alms to that beggar, but they do not do it freely. What they had in their minds while extending their arms to give money is reputation. Surely, if you were running as a political leader, more people would vote for you if they saw you being compassionate towards our unfortunate fellowmen. They only want to use poor people for their own popularity! Heck, how ironic isn’t it? Those who have too much would only get more and more of what they want, even if they don’t need or deserve it; while those who have nothing will only lose more and more of what they don’t have. Why don’t the rich ones share their own blessings? They have too much already, so why don’t they share it to others who badly need it but didn’t have the chance to acquire it? How could life be so unfair?

That’s how I feel about myself. I feel like a beggar. I feel like a rich man.

I feel like a lonely beggar sitting there in the cold, with no one to talk to, no one to care for me. The cold is too numbing.

I feel so alone.

My eyes are staring blankly ahead, never certain of the future that lies before me. I feel naked. Too naked that I could feel the cold piercing through my very body, my very heart, my very soul. I feel so weak. Anytime now, I’m think I’m going to breakdown.

I also feel like one of those proud socialite citizens of this world. Behind the walls of our splendid abode, I feel invincible, capable of doing anything, never caring what everybody feels. But despite this social security I’m experiencing and the financial security which every mortal heart desires, I still feel empty.

Outside the mansion’s walls, and into the real side of life, I feel so inferior. I could see poor and dirty children running along the streets with smiles on their faces. Smiles which are worth a million. No, a million isn’t enough. The joy that they feel inside is precious. Not even the largest diamond in the world could equal the priceless value of an innocent smile of a child, free from all the worries of this world. Not even the corpse of an infamous pharaoh could equal the joy of pure and unconditional love shared by family members closely tied together by an unbreakable bond.

There are really some things money can’t buy…

Ha ha ha…how did these thoughts, which no one ever thought to ever cross my mind, would suddenly fill me with such uncertainty? Am I being too satirical? All of you are fools. All of you don’t know me. No one would ever expect that the immature little girl they had always known would think of such complicated things. Ha, all of them are fools!

I know how to research, too…there is always the ever-available computer and Internet, and with just a few clicks here and there…voila! Instant info. And I could always sneak in father’s study room without him or anybody noticing me stealing a glance from his files! I’m not that dumb, y’know!

Chapter I: Disturbing Thoughts

Neon stirred from her bed. She slowly opened her eyes, adjusting to the dim glow of a bedside lamp nearby. She was surprised to see herself lying down in a hospital bed.

“So…you’re awake.” a voice, tired and weary, was heard from within the shadows. A golden head emerged from the dimly-lit corners of the room.

“W-where am I? W-what happened? W-where is everybody?” Neon asked, her voice quivering. She was shaken by the turn of events, like…what events anyway? When, when…

Neon gave up searching for answers. She couldn’t remember much of them anyway. She also knew that no one, not even herself, not even her companion, would answer her queries.

“It isn’t proper that you ask too many questions at a time. Anyway, just go back to sleep. From what I observe, you are still weak and tired of the previous day.” The voice answered sternly.

Neon glanced at the source of the voice. She looked at the young man seated in a chair near her bed. He seems so engrossed with his reading, as if he felt no other presence in this room except himself. But Neon knew that this is one guy who is always keen to everything, though at first glance you’d think that he doesn’t care about his surroundings.

“Please…tell me what happened.” Neon pleaded.

“I told you to rest. You are still weak and…”

Neon tried to get up from her bed. However just when she had sat up straight, a short cry escaped from her lips as she felt a sharp pain shot across the left side of her temple. Her face twisted in pain, she looked at the eyes of the young man seated nearby, hoping for consolation.

“I told you to go back to sleep. That’s what you get for disobeying orders.” The young man said coldly, never taking his eyes of the book he’s intently reading.

Disobeying orders, those words made a huge impact on Neon. Now she remembered it all clearly; how she escaped from her guards, how she met Kuroro, how she had told him of his future, how he had cried in front of her, how she had opened up to him, and then, she couldn’t remember anything from that time on.

Just the act of thinking made her head hurt so badly. But still, her inquisitiveness must first be satisfied.

She turned her face towards Kurapika and said, “Please, tell me. I just want to know. I mean…it’s so easy to do…just relate all the details to me, and then I’ll get back to sleep, and then I’ll be at peace, lest my curiosity would just give me nightmares.”

Kurapika was not moved. He still continued to read, as if he had heard nothing.

Seeing that it had done no effect on him, she still continued to urge him.

“Please tell me; tell me what happened. Why am I in this hospital room anyway? What happened? Am I injured seriously, or have I lost my consciousness, or…or what? Please tell me!”

Kurapika looked at her in disbelief. This girl is amazing. No matter how weak, she could still manage to urge others to get what she wants.

Neon saw a sparkle of hope. Had she just touched something? At last she had placed a little light on this man’s eye…that no one could resist the mighty Neon!

“So, could you now tell me what hap…?”

Kurapika surprised her by saying, “Get some rest. You’re only weakening yourself with what you’re doing. You have not yet fully recovered. With all the events that happened, I doubt if your system could carry it all. There’s just one thing I’d tell you…a lot has happened.” So many disturbing events had happened…it will be too painful for you to bear.

“Fine.” Neon said sarcastically. She muttered to herself, “Who do you think you are anyway? The head of the Mafia?”

Neon heaved a sigh and lied back down on her back again and looked up at the ceiling. As usual, this guy is cold. Never will I expect an explanation from him. She let out a stifled yawn and her droopy eyes slowly fluttered to a close. Before long, she had fallen asleep again.

Kurapika laid down the book on his lap for a while. He gazed at the sleeping Neon. He heaved a sigh and tried to get back on his reading again.

At least the boss is safe for now. Kurapika thought as he flipped the pages of his favored reading material. Several thoughts flooded in his mind.

Kuroro, that bastard, he is the reason why Neon had been in such a poor state. Why did that devil ever involve this innocent girl in his plans of pilfering all the black market’s treasures? He and his bunch of criminals…damn them all! All of them are just too greedy. How many people did they kill to get what they want, anyway?

Much as he tried to continue reading again, he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He shut his book and placed it on a table. He glanced at the girl sleeping on the bed. God, she looks so fragile; so unlike the stubborn Neon he had known before.

This girl is worth millions. People would pay a lot to have their fortune told by this girl.

Poor Neon. Her life is a neverending imprisonment from the real world. She was barricaded from the simple joys of life. She was forbidden to experience living normally like other kids do. She had nothing else to do but predict and predict other people’s fortune.

Kurapika pitied her. He knew deep inside that Neon could have been a nice girl if not for her father’s too protective attitude toward her. Well, it must have been the same way he acts toward his property. Light is just using his daughter in order to satisfy his hunger for wealth and reputation.

Why, are you not using her to gain back what the Genei Ryodan had taken away from you?

He had used her.

Though indirectly, he had used her. He admits it.

Is he that desperate to seek revenge, that he had refused the help of his friends? Is he that desperate, that he had risked everything, even his dignity, just to atone for the past? Is he that desperate, that he never cared if anyone would be hurt in the process?

Maybe, he’s worse than them.

No, had he not killed for the sake of his people? To fulfill his duty? And those, those vagabonds, just kill for the sake of wealth! Now tell me, who are worse, those who kill for the sake of others or those who kill for the sake of money?

No one has the right to judge others, nor to compare himself with his fellow wrongdoers.

But he had killed for a cause, right? And that is to avenge his murdered tribesmen…

Nevertheless, he had slain a human being.

No! That Spider is a monster. Not only him, but also his companions, all of them!

He (Kurapika) was the reason why Neon had lost her nen forever.

No he wasn’t…but, why did Kuroro pilfer Neon’s ability, anyway? To learn who Ubogin’s murderer is, isn’t it? To learn why his friend was killed, isn’t it?

And who killed Ubogin?

Kurapika was the one who had killed him.

He is a murderer.

No, an avenger, one who brought justice to the people whom those criminals had wronged.

But still…

His hands were stained with blood.

And nothing could change the fact that his hands had killed someone.

He will never do it again. He will never again do it, because of all the pain and the guilt that had bothered him.

But sooner or later, he will overcome all those feelings of uncertainties. Soon, he will learn to fight the urge of his conscience.

Sooner or later, he will do it again. He will kill again, like an animal thirsting for more blood.

He forcefully shut his eyes. He tried to calm his mind from thinking of such disturbing thoughts. He concentrated his thoughts to be peaceful. He tried so hard to strain his ears to listen…to listen beyond the walls of silence.

For a while, he heard nothing.

He concentrated still.

The stillness of the cold night was broken by the sounds of the busy nightlife of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /> York Shin City .

The beeping of a car’s horn.

The muffled sound of several vehicles’ engines.

The laughter of drunken men walking merrily somewhere below in the alleys of the city.

The soft and steady humming of the room’s air conditioner.

The soft rustling of the bed sheets.

As he opened his eyes, his eyes gazed on the girl he had known as the important but spoiled daughter of his superior.

For a moment he was caught by the peaceful expression contained in her face. A small smile formed on his lips, a smile that did not show up there for quite a while.

When was the last time he had smiled, anyway?

He could not remember exactly when.

Ahh…now I remember…each time he is with his friends all the mirth contained in his soul would pour out in a gentle smile.

He is feeling like that now. He feels the need to smile…the need to be happy after such an experience wherein the only thing he feels is his pure hatred for the Spiders.

Why can’t I be in her place? So innocent and unaware of what’s going around…why can’t I be like her? When will I experience living life without the murder of my people haunting my dreams?

His smile slowly curved to a slight frown. Suddenly, his light mood changed to the dark side that he had always resented to surface during his moments of bliss.

If only I weren’t a Kuruta…those words…it was the first time that such an ill thought had ever crossed his mind. He knew he would regret those words of infidelity, but when a man is suffering from the greatest hardships he could ever imagine, he would tend to question where he came from and what his life is worth; even to the point of disdaining the most important people in his life.

He heard a slight stir from the nearby bed. He looked at the direction of the sleeping girl, and swore that it is one of the things that he had hated to see again in his life; to see a woman crying.

Well, Neon wasn’t actually crying her out heart out; only a single tear rolled down her face. But her face, it was a pitiful sight. Her face was of one whose life was led by great misery masked behind the innocence and the natural youthful glow in her face. It was the face of a young child crying for its mother.

That sight is vaguely familiar in Kurapika’s mind. He remembered crying like that before…the pain was too great a burden that only a single tear rolled down his cheek. Memories…so ill…yet needed to be faced by anyone with great courage.

He remembered the pain of losing his people…his friends…his family…and most of all, his mother…

He had seen his mother die last, saving the life of her son from the enemy. But her courage did not falter. She bravely stood against their oppressors, even if it was already certain that they were losing. She fought with all her strength, with the safety of her tribesmen and her family making her strong up to the last blow. During those times, Kurapika thought of her as a great warrior fighting for her people, and as a great mother defying death in order to save her child.

He remembered the last words she had said…those were the words that had made a great impact on him. Those were the words that had filled him with courage to fulfill his oath.

It was when…

“Okaasan…”

Kurapika glanced toward Neon. Tears were flowing from her face uncontrollably now. It was a pitiful sight.

Kurapika was deeply moved, that he sat beside her in the bed and wiped her tears away gently by using his hand.

I know what it is to lose a mother, but I do not know the kind of pain you’re experiencing now…the pain of losing a mother at an early age…the pain of never seeing the face of your mother for just one time…the pain of never feeling her love…

He gently caressed her soft cheek. If only he had given himself the chance to be this close to her before, maybe he would be the one to comfort her. He didn’t have to comfort her secretly, like at times like this when she’s unconscious. They would talk about anything under the sun and share their darkest fears together.

Then she would be one of his friends.

Maybe, if ever that happened, he would be her only friend.