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It had been a long time since he’d set foot here, Chrollo reflected, the sound of dry leaves crunching beneath his footsteps echoing through the empty, abandoned church. The last time he’d been here was when the Phantom Troupe had split into those who would remain in hiding and those who would pursue the Chain Bastard. It felt strange to return to Yorknew’s hideout after so long, especially since it had now been repurposed as the sanctuary to Pakunoda’s grave.
The Judgment Chain had been removed from his heart a few days ago, and Chrollo had intended to go on a training trip to rehabilitate his strength and upgrade his skills, in part so he could eventually face Hisoka, but at that moment, the Spider’s head had another priority.
Though inherently sad, the tomb, covered in a variety of beautiful white flowers, brought a strangely comforting peace. Chrollo silently thanked the other members of the Troupe for their thoughtfulness and care, taking the trouble to collect those chrysanthemums, lilies, roses, daisies, orchids, and so many others to honor Pakunoda. He himself carried a generous bouquet of chrysanthemums, which he delicately placed beside the inverted cross that adorned the tomb.
Chrollo sat on the ground and closed his eyes. He hated the thought of Pakunoda’s body rotting underground, that all that remained of that wonderful woman were her bones, so he focused on other thoughts.
The thief remembered her scent; she always emanated a pleasant floral fragrance, even after missions, so somehow those flowers made Chrollo think of Pakunoda. He remembered her voice, and how much he loved to hear her talk — in fact, Paku had once told him how much she loved to hear him talk about anything, and he was so surprised he never got the chance to return the compliment. Something about Pakunoda’s presence, her very existence, brought Chrollo an inexplicable comfort and peace; how could he not love her?
Recently, Chrollo realized he had been forgetting details about Sarasa, including her face from when she was alive. He feared his vile mind was gradually erasing the memories of his departed loved ones, that in the course of time he would forget Sarasa, Uvogin, Pakunoda… he fought against it, desperate to rescue even the most seemingly insignificant memories, wanting his friends to at least live on in his grieving mind.
The Specialist allowed tears to roll down his face, because the thought of never hearing Paku’s voice again was inconceivable, but it was the sad truth. He knew Pakunoda would die the moment she agreed to the Chain Bastard’s conditions, and deep down, Chrollo knew why she had risked so much, but he refused to accept it: Paku had saved him, disregarding the Spider’s principles and sacrificing her life in the process, because she loved him. Chrollo would never forgive himself for that.
Her sacrifice would not be in vain, the man decided, picking up Pakunoda’s revolver, which lay among the flowers on her grave, to polish it with the fabric of his own clothes. Chrollo would devise a plan that would guarantee him a 100% chance of winning the upcoming fight against Hisoka; now, more than ever, his life was a precious gift, Paku’s last gift to him.
He carefully placed the weapon back in its place. The two never had the chance to say goodbye. It reminded him that when he first left Meteor City for training, his departure had been somewhat chaotic, and Chrollo hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye to Paku either. So, because of her Nen condition, created during his absence, the last time they touched was when they held hands at Sarasa’s funeral. Their story seemed like one of eternally lost farewells.
Not that they needed to touch; their relationship — which never went beyond that of boss and subordinate, that of two childhood friends — was built on exchanges of words and glances, on the trust between them, on the unspoken affection. But it was undeniable that there were many moments when Chrollo wished he could hug Paku, both to be comforted and to comfort her. He wondered if she felt the same way.
“Thank you for everything, Paku-chan, and I’m sorry for… everything,” Chrollo sighed sadly. He hoped that at least Pakunoda was in a better place now, free from anguish and suffering, that she could be reunited with Sarasa and Uvo.
Suddenly, a noise caught his attention. Chrollo turned his head, but he wasn’t alarmed. He saw, among the rubble of the abandoned church, a cat — definitely female; as a child, he’d learned that tricolored cats like this one were always female — watching him intently.
Chrollo crouched down and called the cat, who came over and allowed herself to be petted. She looked well-fed, and the man assumed she was eating the rats nearby. He offered the cat a piece of dried meat, which she took in her mouth and walked away, walking through the church. Chrollo followed her, and the feline led him to her kittens, who were playing with each other.
That made Chrollo so happy. From the relatively fresh flowers on Pakunoda’s grave, he assumed the other members of the Troupe visited the hideout quite often, but it was impossible for any of them to stay with her all the time. So the fact that there was a family of kittens there, keeping Paku, who had always loved cats, company, brought him some comfort.
The kittens ate the dried meat, and the mama cat looked at Chrollo and meowed, as if in gratitude. Chrollo meowed back — something he used to do as a child in Meteor City, and which Paku always found amusing.
Chrollo returned to Pakunoda’s grave, feeling a little less distressed. Strangely, he felt that the family of cats keeping Paku company was God’s way of saying that she had been forgiven for her sins; to Chrollo, the only Spider who should go to Hell was him.
He wished things had been different. He wished they both had the courage to confess and accept their feelings. But those were the cruel circumstances they lived in, it was too late for regrets; all he could do was move on.
The Troupe leader lit the candles scattered around the grave and sat next to it. Chrollo began to sing an ancient lullaby, a traditional one from Meteor City, one that Paku had once sung to him as a child when Chrollo was very ill, and which would now serve to lull her into her eternal sleep.
The melody was beautiful and sumptuous, but as they grew older, they realized how tragic those peculiar lyrics were: a kind woman refused to marry a rich and cruel king, and as punishment, she was imprisoned in a cage in the middle of the desert to die; her tears created a river where all the fish in the world were born, and the water gave rise to all the flowers in the world, and from the sky that reflected her tears, all the stars in the world arose. The song didn’t exactly have a happy ending, because it was never said whether the girl somehow managed to free herself, but there was hope: a cuckoo, the reincarnation of her mother, and a snake, the reincarnation of her sister, appeared with flowers full of milk so the woman could be fed.
At the end of the lullaby, Chrollo stood up and, after looking back at the church and taking one more deep breath, he left. He would return to visit Pakunoda, his first and last love, whenever he could. In the meantime, the Spider needed him, so Chrollo had to keep going, even if he was still grieving.
He would survive, he needed to survive.