Chapter Text
Kurapika was annoyed.
He was tapping his foot on the floor impatiently as he sunk into the softness of the velvety armchair he was sitting in. He glanced at his watch again as he sighed. His breath came out kind of shaky and that made him even more annoyed.
He couldn't believe Leorio had talked him into this.
"You should talk with someone" he said.
"It'll be good for you" he said
Well, Leorio wasn't the one in a psychiatrist's lobby waiting for the inevitable to happen.
It took every single ounce of his will power to not get up from this chair, walk to the exit, get away from the office in front of him –most particularly from the man inside the office, and never step foot in here again.
He was never fond of therapy. He never liked the idea of someone searching through his mind, seeing his fears and desires. Just the thought of that made him shiver a little.
Two years ago, the head of the department they worked at, had sent Kurapika to a "Treatment Specialist" to help him mentally. After that not so formidable experience, Kurapika decided against going to any kind of therapy ever again.
This wasn't the case with Doctor Chrollo Lucilfer tho.
He was famous around the country –heck maybe even around the world for his knowledge in all the fields of the human mind. He was also extremely educated in criminology, something that led him to be a top pick for all the Hunters that were struggling with their mental health due to their work environment.
Still, he felt uneasy with the whole idea, but Leorio had assured him that Lucilfer wasn't the type to shove pills at him across a table. He said he was just someone to talk to, someone who would help sort out his thoughts.
Kurapika's didn't like that. He wasn't some broken tool that needed to be fixed, he wasn't a stain in a well-painted white wall. He was a human. A human with real emotions, emotions that only he could understand.
His nails dug into his palms, drawing thin scarlet crescents of blood. His throat suddenly felt very dry.
He had to go through these sessions for half a year if he wanted to keep his position in the Hunter Police Department –and most importantly a Zodiac, and of course, if be wanted to catch the Phantom Troupe. They had gone pretty quiet after some attacks at an underground auction but they were bound to get back on track soon.
Half a year was more than enough for Kurapika. If the sessions weren't paid by the Hunter's department he wouldn't have even stopped by the building. The man was charging big numbers for his work, that was for sure. That was probably how he afforded that giant mansion.
His insides twisted.
He was on his feet the second the door opened.
Chrollo Lucilfer was everything he expected him to be from the descriptions he was given. He was infuriatingly well dressed and polished, just like his waiting room. It all seemed like a trap to him, this conscious effort to give a certain image. The waiting room was designed to put people at ease, and Lucilfer… he didn’t know what Lucilfer was aiming for, but he didn’t like the thought that the man was probably aiming for something.
Surprisingly, he didn't seem to be much older than Kurapika himself, and if he was, he did a pretty good job hiding it.
His eyes focused on the last patient of the man, a woman who was currently bowing to him as she shook his hand, muttering a few "thank you" before leaving.
"Mr. Kurta, are you ready to come in and take your seat?"
A shiver ran down his spine. The man's voice was like liquid honey; too polite and friendly for his taste. Too fake.
If he wanted to run he should do it now.
Leorio would probably be disappointed in him. Gon and Killua too. Maybe that's why he decided to push himself to smile through his teeth and he stiffly entered the other room, much like a man walking into battle, or perhaps even to his execution. He mechanically sat down at the edge of the large sofa that was infront of him.
Lucilfer calmly pulled his chair around and sat in front of him, his hands folded in his lap. He didn’t have a notebook, at least that was something.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, where Lucilfer just stared at him – and he was pretty damn sure that was not the way these things were supposed to go! Staring was rude, besides.
He glared back flatly, refusing to be the first to break eye contact or flinch.
“Why are you here, Kurapika?", the man finally spoke up.
Kurapika almost choked on air hearing the man's question.
"Oh, are we already on a first-name basis?", he returned. To his surprise, the man smiled softly at him.
"Fake-ass smile", Kurapika thought.
"Indeed we are. I maintain a familiar rapport with each of my patients. I believe it fosters a sense of mutual understanding between the two of–"
"You believe that calling me with my first name is going to make me open up to you?", Kurapika cut the man off. "As to why I'm here, I'm sure you have your answer already. If you don't have anything important to ask me, don't ask me anything at all"
“I don’t look at files.” Lucilfer waved an almost dismissive hand. “I prefer to come to my own conclusions and observations, and –as shocking as it might be, to talk to my clients, rather than relying on the judgements made by other people.”
Despite himself, Kurapika snorted at the dry tone of voice.
"Clients? Most refer to them as Patients"
"Yes, clients,” Lucilfer said calmly. “‘Patient’ would indicate that I am going to treat you. I am not. I am instead going to show you the way to treat yourself. Right now I am not interested in the specific details concerning why you need or want my help, I’m more preoccupied with the fact that you are visiting me when you clearly don’t want to."
"Of course I don't want to", he said after a moment
"I don't like psychiatry"
"Why not?"
“You tell me, you’re the psychiatrist.”
"Individuals fear judgment, change, the unknown, and what they might discover in therapy; additionally, they're too prideful to admit they need help." he said. "But that's not the case with you, is it? You don’t like the implication that you are in need of help, and so, in your mind, somehow weak or broken. In need of fixing.”
"Good guess", Kurapika sneered.
"It's a common response actually.", the other man replied with a low laugh. "You need to understand, Kurapika, I'm not your average therapist that acts like a Mind Cleaner."
“Clearly,” Kurapika muttered. “Your professionalism leaves much to be desired.”
“Where would professionalism get me on such a personal matter? I fully intend to push you out of your comfort zone, Kurapika. I am going to get inside of your head, and I’m going to drag you there too, however much you would rather run away from your problems.”
"Not if I don't come back you won't", he said. This whole thing was starting to get him on the head. If he continued like that he was going to wake up fuming, with a headache that would last him the whole week. He was going to get out of here.
"You will, won't you? Isn't that what you promised your friend, Paladiknight? You'll at least take some sessions before you decide to drop this completely."
Kurapika's scowl deepened, and he clenched his jaw.
"So you did read my file."
"I didn't. I'm sure you're aware of the fact that you're pretty famous around the department. It was just a logical assumption to know that the Zodiac you're closer with sent you here", he said. The look in his eyes was very different however – challenging, daring him to run like a coward. It was that look that stopped him; there was something there, which he couldn’t put his finger on. And, of course, the challenge against cowardice.
He sat back down, accepting his fate.
This was going to be long afternoon.
Chrollo was beyond excited.
Many people turned to psychiatry, mind healing, and such professions out of a desire to help people, to make them better.
He could safely say he wasn’t like that at all, and maybe that was what made him exceed at his job. He didn’t follow the conventional norms of his trade, he refused the traditional methods, and his motivations were purely selfish.
Simply put, he liked secrets, and he liked puzzles, and he could quite easily put on a different face tailored for the requirements of his current projects –official or otherwise. He could play the gentle listener, he could give people exactly what they wanted, he knew what they expected.
Most of the people who came to him were dull. Interesting yes, but still, nothing exciting enough to completely capture his attention to the fullest.
It was… perfect. Who would imagine that the last survivor of the Kurta's would be assigned to him of all the possibilities.
Kurapika Kurta. Just perfect.
Of course, the man wouldn’t recognise him, and didn’t know all that he’d done, which just brought a delicious irony to the situation.
Especially because they would inevitably be talking about the Phantom Troupe. His eyes gleamed for a split second, as Kurapika settled on the sofa again.
He would fix Kurapika, certainly –never let it be said he wasn’t good at his job. It's just that he wasn't exactly keen on doing that. He wanted to see how he would progress. He wanted to hear his thoughts on the Phantom Troupe and their leader from his own mouth, not from someone else.
How many years had it been since the death of his family? A decade? Could be less, Chrollo was never good with years, everything blended in his mind, a mixture full of blood and mourning. The Kurta's happen to possess the wrong things, and the wrong people wanted them. Priceless, those eyes were, they were sold for millions of dollars each. "The Devils", some called them. "Genetically impossible", said doctors from around the world. Eyes that change colors. And such a vivid color those eyes were. They said the Kurtas were given riches centuries ago because of their eyes. People used to think they were omnipotent beings. And now, the gods were six feet under, rotting.
The parents, the grandparents, the cousins and the son who happened to not be home when the robbery happened. The crime was at the news for days, first page at the newspaper. And Chrollo felt proud for that.
His attention shifted to the man in front of him, who was looking at him with a scowl on his face.
"He's looking at me like I killed his mother. Oh... right"
He straightened his posture and smiled even more kindly than before. The Kurta was the one who’d gotten away from him once before. He wasn't going to again.