Rude awakening

A blond man with sideburns and a goatee, sat at the head of the long, polished table, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the surface. The dimly lit room buzzed with anticipation as his adjutant, Luca, approached with an ornate box in his hands. He bowed and presented the box to the Don, a slightly confused expression on his face.

"Boss, I have brought you the Eye of the Kurta Clan" Luca announced, lifting the lid to reveal a dull, unremarkable orb.

The Don leaned in to examine the eye, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "This... this doesn't look like the legendary Eye of the Kurta Clan. Are you sure you got the right one, Luca?"

He observed the eye carefully, his fingers gently turning it over, examining every angle. "Luca," he said, his voice low and thoughtful, "did you handle this eye with your dirty hands? It seems to have some dark spots."

Luca, his trusted bald underling, shifted nervously as he replied, "No, Boss, I made sure to wear gloves when I handled it. I didn't want to damage such a valuable item."

The Don furrowed his brow, leaning in closer to scrutinize the eye. The dark spots seemed out of place, almost as if the eye had been tainted by something sinister. "You know, Luca," he said, his voice a mixture of curiosity and concern, "there's an old tale about these eyes. It is said that the darkness within a person's soul can leave a mark on the eye, a reminder of the cruelty and pain they've inflicted on others."

Luca swallowed hard, his eyes flicking between the eye and his boss. "Do you think that's what happened here, Boss?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Don Vittorio sighed, placing the eye back on the velvet cloth in front of him. "I can't be sure, Luca," he admitted, his eyes locked on the eye.

Luca scratched his head, looking uncertain. "Uh, well, I thought this was it, Boss. It came from a real person, but maybe I was mistaken?"

The Don sighed, shaking his head. "It seems so, Luca. This eye is clearly not the one we're looking for. We need the real Eye of the Kurta Clan."

Luca hesitated for a moment before blurting out the only lead he had. "Boss, there's a boy I brought with me. He was with kurta member when I found him. I thought, maybe he could help us find the real eye?"

The Don raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And why did you bring this boy to us?"

"Well, Boss," Luca explained, his face turning red with embarrassment, especially the white tip of his head, "he seemed like a smart kid, and I thought he could serve as a bodyguard for the lady. You said she could use someone to protect her at school."

Don Vittorio considered Luca's words carefully before giving a nod of approval. "Very well. Bring the boy to me. Let's see if he can indeed help us find the real crimson eyes."

As Luca left the room to fetch the boy, the Mafia family members exchanged amused glances.

The Mafia family members sat around the long, polished table, the room thick with tension after Luca's departure. They couldn't help but wonder what to do with the young boy he had brought with him. The child's presence seemed out of place, and the family was unsure of how to proceed.

"Why would Luca bring this brat to us?" one of the members grumbled, irritation evident in his voice.

Another chimed in, "We should just get rid of him. Drown him in the river..."

Giovanni, one of the family's trusted advisers, interjected with a calm, measured tone. "Hold on. Luca may not be the brightest, but he wouldn't have brought the boy to us if there wasn't something exceptional about him."

The room went quiet as everyone considered Giovanni's words. Finally, Don Vittorio spoke up, his voice authoritative and cold. "Very well. We'll send the boy to our bodyguards for evaluation. If he has any nen talent, we can use him to our advantage. But first, we need to take care of the phantom troupe."

"Chrollo have made a fool out of us."

Luca left the room, returning a short while later with Ikki in tow. The boy's hands were bound, and his eyes were coverd by his long hair that shadowed them, the weight of his sorrow evident in his slumped posture. Gently, but firmly, Luca laid Ikki on to the center of the room and made him kneel on the plush carpet.

With a practiced hand, Luca reached down and slapped Ikki's cheeks, stirring him from his despondent state. As the boy's eyes flickered open, Don Vittorio observed him closely. Ikki's eyes seemed empty, devoid of any life in them. They were like soulless orbs, haunted by the tragedies he had witnessed.

The Don, his heart touched by a rare pang of pity, turned his gaze to Algabano. The burly man stood in the corner of the room, his square jawline and the scar on his eyebrow giving him an intimidating appearance. "Algabano," Don Vittorio ordered, his voice firm but tinged with compassion, "take the boy to the room. Treat him well, but do not let him out of your sight."

As Algabano took hold of Ikki's arm and led him away, the boy offered no resistance, as if he didn't care. Don Vittorio watched them go away slowly.

As soon as the door closed behind Ikki and Algabano, Don Vittorio called out to his most trusted assistant. "Bring my daughter to me."

A few moments later, the door opened once more, and in walked his precious daughter.

Her twin golden tails bounced playfully as she entered the room, her bright red eye shining brilliantly, contrasting with the dull grey of the other.

The sight of her instantly brought a warmth to the Don's eyes, a tenderness few ever saw in the powerful man.

With an urgency uncommon to his usual demeanor, Don Vittorio ordered everyone else to leave the room. "Out, all of you! I wish to speak with my daughter alone." The remaining assistants and bodyguards quickly filed out, leaving father and daughter in solitude.

The young girl ran to her father, her arms outstretched. Don Vittorio opened his own arms and embraced her, lifting her onto his lap. He gently patted her head, savoring the moment of affection with his daughter.

Curiosity gleamed in her eyes as she asked about the boy who had just left the room. "Papa, who was that boy? Can he be my friend? I think I like him."

Don Vittorio smiled and nodded, eager to please his beloved daughter. "Of course, my dear. If you wish it, he shall be your friend."

His brow furrowed with concern as he inquired, "Is something wrong, my child?"

She shook her head, her golden hair swaying with the motion. "No, Papa. There was a small problem in town, but The Fish took care of everything."

The Don's attention was momentarily diverted as she asked about the Kurta Clan eyes. "Papa, did you find any eyes from the Kurta Clan for me?"

Regret painted his features as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, my dear, but not yet."

At his response, the girl's demeanor changed. She threw a tantrum, her face scrunching up and her voice rising in frustration. "But I want them, Papa! I want them now!"

Don Vittorio sighed, his heart aching at his daughter's distress. 'My precious baby angel.'

.....

In the dead of night, Ikki found himself lost in a horrifying nightmare. He stood atop a frozen mountain, surrounded by a blood-red snowstorm. The wind screamed as the severed head of the wolf he had once killed emerged from the shadows, its eyes burning with vengeance. "You thought you could escape me?" the wolf snarled menacingly.

As the storm intensified, the eyeless members of the Kurta Clan appeared from the darkness. The kind grandma elder who had healed him, and Panko, the caring mother of Kurapika who had nourished him, now stared at him with hollow eyes. "You abandoned us," the grandma elder hissed. "You're a coward, boy! " Panko shouted, her voice filled with anger.

Then, the ghostly figure of Pairo appeared, his body headless and gruesome. In his hands, he held his own severed head, its eyes filled with sorrow and disappointment. "Ikki, how could you let them kill me?" Pairo's head whispered, the accusation filling Ikki with terror and guilt. He tried to scream, but no sound came out, leaving him trapped within his own horrifying nightmare, the voices of the dead accusing him and echoing through the storm.

....

Ikki awoke, hot sweat covering his back, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been dreaming of the life he once had.

The memories played out in his mind like a bittersweet symphony, reminding him of the love and kindness he had once known.

Lying on the bed, Ikki's eyes welled up with tears. He could no longer hold back the overwhelming sorrow that gripped his heart, and the tears flowed freely, streaming down his cheeks.

Just then, a gruff voice interrupted his thoughts. "Men don't cry," Algabano remarked, his tone a mixture of disdain and sympathy.

Ikki's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and he caught sight of Algabano standing nearby. He leaped from the bed, instinctively adopting a defensive stance. However, Algabano merely stared at him calmly, unfazed by Ikki's aggression.

"Good, at least you have the spirit to fight," Algabano observed, but the empty look in Ikki's eyes made him reconsider his statement. "Or not..."

Algabano continued, "Look, if you want to get your revenge, you must act like a man." He then began to discuss Ikki's current situation and what had brought him there. As he spoke, Ikki's started to formulate a new memory.

Suddenly, Ikki recalled that he still had a purpose – one person from his clan was still alive: Kurapika. He had to find him at all costs. Driven by this realization, Ikki darted towards the door, intent on leaving the room and starting his quest.

Algabano, a burly man with a square jawline and a scar on his eyebrow, planted himself firmly in front of the door, his imposing figure effectively blocking Ikki's exit. The dim light in the room seemed to cast dark shadows across his stern features, giving him an even more menacing appearance.

Ikki, feeling his frustration and desperation rise, took a deep, steadying breath. His eyes narrowed as he issued a threat, his voice unwavering, filled with determination. "Move, or I'll kill you," he warned, hoping to convey the seriousness of his intentions to the obstinate man.

For a moment, the air in the room seemed to grow heavy with tension, the silence stretching out as Ikki and Algabano locked gazes, each trying to gauge the other's resolve.

Algabano merely stared at Ikki coldly, his eyes filled with a mixture of skepticism and amusement at the young boy's threat.

Despite his imposing stature, he seemed to underestimate the feeble boy.

Ikki's jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened, as he muttered, "I warned you." In a swift, almost fluid motion, he summoned his katana, Intetsu. The blade glinted ominously in the dim light of the room, reflecting the unwavering resolve in Ikki's eyes.

Algabano's eyes widened in surprise as he realized that the young boy was capable of using Nen, a feat rarely achieved by someone of his age. This revelation caught him off guard, lowered his guard.

Upon realizing the imminent danger he was in, Algabano's eyes widened, and he hastily summoned his own aura to coat his body, hoping to defend himself against Ikki's attack. However, his confidence waned as Ikki's katana sliced through his aura as if it were mere air, offering no resistance to the sharp blade.

With a combination of precision and control, Ikki's blade pierced Algabano's skin, narrowly avoiding his jugular vein. To Algabano's horror and disbelief, Ikki had expertly lodged the sword within his flesh without causing any immediate bloodshed. The cold steel pressed against his jugular vein, serving as a chilling reminder of how close he was to death's door.

Sweat beaded on Algabano's forehead, his breaths shallow and rapid as he grappled with the severity of the situation. The once-overconfident man now found himself at the mercy of the young boy he had so callously underestimated moments before.

Beads of sweat formed on Algabano's forehead, trickling down his face as he felt the cold steel nestled within his flesh. The once-imposing figure now stood trembling, acutely aware that his fate was firmly in Ikki's grasp.

Ikki's voice remained calm and steady, belying the gravity of the situation. "I will slowly withdraw the sword, and if you want to stay alive, you must press both of your hands on the wound as soon as I do," he instructed. "Do you understand and agree to these terms?"

Algabano's eyes darted between Ikki's unwavering gaze and the sword that threatened his very existence. Swallowing hard, he steeled himself and managed a shaky nod, signaling his reluctant acceptance of Ikki's terms. The air in the room grew thick with tension as both individuals prepared for the life-or-death exchange that was about to take place.

Unable to nod for fear of accidentally severing his jugular vein, Algabano's chest heaved with shallow breaths as he managed to choke out a simple "Yes" in agreement with Ikki's terms. His voice wavered, betraying the terror that gripped him.

With a final glare, Ikki braced himself, gripping the hilt of his katana tightly. The room seemed to darken as the tension mounted, the air heavy with anticipation. Algabano's heart raced, and he stared at the young boy before him, fully aware that his life now hinged on his ability to comply with Ikki's instructions.

As Ikki slowly began to withdraw the sword from Algabano's flesh, the older man's eyes remained locked on the blade, his hands hovering just above the wound. He knew that the moment the steel left his skin, he would need to act quickly and decisively to save his own life, or face the consequences of failing to comply with the young boy's demands.

The moment the sword was free from Algabano's flesh, he pressed his hands against the wound with lightning speed, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood that immediately began to seep out. His face contorted with pain as he struggled to hold back the tide of crimson that threatened to overwhelm him.

Ikki, his expression still cold and calculating, observed Algabano's frantic efforts with a detached sense of satisfaction. "You were wise to agree to my terms," he stated simply, his voice devoid of any emotion. "If you had not, you would be dead by now."

Algabano's face grew pale, a stark contrast to the blood that stained his hands. He knew that Ikki was right, and he could not help but feel a newfound sense of respect, as well as fear, for the young boy who had so easily overpowered him.

Ikki sheathed his katana, Intetsu, and began to walk towards the door. As he reached for the handle, he paused and glanced back at Algabano. "I'm going to find Kurapika, and you are not going to stop me," he declared, his voice firm and unwavering. "If you attempt to follow me or report my actions to anyone, I will not hesitate to kill you."

With that, Ikki opened the door and stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, leaving a stunned Algabano behind, still clutching at his wound, a mixture of fear and admiration etched onto his face.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Ikki dashed through the damp, poorly-lit corridor. The musty air filled his lungs as his breaths grew heavier and his footsteps reverberated off the ancient stone walls. The flickering light from the occasional sconces cast eerie shadows that danced around him as he ran. He soon realized that he was deep within the basement of the building, far from any obvious escape route.

Desperate to find an exit, Ikki reached a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor. Its aged surface was warped and cracked, a testament to the passage of time. He yanked on the rusted iron handle, but to his dismay, the door refused to budge. He tried again with all his strength, but it was clear that the door was securely locked, leaving him trapped in the oppressive darkness.

As Ikki fumbled with the door, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed through the dimly-lit corridor, sending chills down his spine. He hesitated, his breath catching in his throat, before cautiously turning around to face the source of the noise. Standing before him was a strange man with disheveled white hair and unnatural blue lips. His piercing eyes bore into Ikki, and his expression seemed to be a sinister blend of curiosity and malevolence.

The man's face suddenly contorted into a maniacal grin, revealing a set of unnervingly sharp teeth. He cackled wildly, his voice filling the air with an unsettling sense of madness. "Ah, the thrill of the chase! The delicious anticipation of a battle!" he exclaimed, his eyes alight, his jagged teeth jutting out of his mouth.

In an impossibly swift motion, the strange man closed the distance between them, his movements fluid and deadly. Ikki's eyes widened in disbelief, as he struggled to raise his katana in time to defend himself. The world around him seemed to slow down, each moment stretching into an eternity as he realized the true danger he faced.

Ikki's eyes widened in disbelief as the suddenness of the situation overwhelmed him. Desperately, he tried to react, his arm moving to raise his katana in a feeble attempt to defend himself. But it felt as if he were submerged in water, everything around him moving at an unnaturally slow pace, his own movements sluggish and delayed.

As the weight of this eerie sensation bore down on him, his senses dulled, and the world seemed to darken at the edges. His grip on consciousness slipped away, like sand through his fingers, and his body gave in to the overwhelming pressure. With a dull, lifeless thud, Ikki's limp form crumpled to the cold, unforgiving ground, his katana clattering beside him, now useless in his unresponsive grasp. It disappeared in motes of light.

The strange man's eyes remained locked on Ikki's unconscious form, his chilling grin never wavering. As he let out a disappointed sigh, his breath was cold and seemed to hang in the air like a sinister fog. "What a letdown," he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain and a hint of mockery.

He studied Ikki's young body, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his thigh as he weighed his options. The eerie gleam in his eyes intensified, reflecting the dim light in the corridor.