Shichi was different than how Kurapika imagined her to be.

From Rukei's memories and tales, Kurapika had interpreted Shichi to be brave, noble, and kind; a hero. Someone who would extend a hand of grace to someone suffering, and with that same hand exact judgement, crush evil, and destroy the villain.

Shichi didn't seem to own these traits. She was cautious, chary, and used whatever lever she had on hand to achieve desired results. She was harsh, crass, and seemed to see everyone around her as an idiot, he was sure she thought of him to be an idiot too, and because she was surrounded by all these 'idiots' she didn't like getting too involved with others. She'd disappear without a word and reappear if she needed to for her mission.

So she had done; she disappeared after the night he had killed the spider and she had reappeared in the room full of assassins, leaning against the wall with a guitar case next to her.

She cracked a blue-green eye open when he entered, hardly surprised, rather she seemed to be expecting his arrival. While Shichi did not show any traits of a hero, Shichi did show the traits of a Crime Hunter. But the question was, why was this Crime Hunter working for the Alliance attending the meeting with the hitmen?

"Is everyone here then? The job is to annihilate the Phantom Troupe. When the auction kicks off again, they may show up," a man at the front instructed, "If they do, dispose of them. You're free to use whatever means you want."

As soon as the bald man finished, one of the assassins with a cap turned to the group and addressed them, "This team will be after the same target. We should decide how we address each other when communicating."

"Just use colors," the man next to him stated, "Call me Blue."

One with a wooden mask claimed to be Red right after.

"Codenames, huh?" Shichi chuckled dryly, "How nostalgic."

"It's like playing a game," the oldest man in the room went along with the young woman.

The first assassin turned to the group at their comments, "What about you guys?"

The larger man answered first, "Silva."

"I'm Zeno."

"Zeno?" the man echoed, staring at the two incredulously, "What color is that?"

The two announced that they'll be using their real names before Silva followed it up with their reasoning, "You're welcome to call me by name, but I won't take orders. We'll do this our own way."

A man with a scar running across his eye recognized the names after a moment, "Silva and Zeno... Of the Zoldyck family?"

Kurapika quickly shifted his eyes back over to the two in surprise and watched them warily. They're from Killua's family.

"Does it matter what we call each other?" another questioned, and the man next to him agreed. There was no requirement for them to work together. But the other four still seemed very shaky on the matter, "Then what does the lady think? Do you want to work in a group?"

He glanced back at Shichi, who answered with a nonchalance shading over her tone. "No thanks. I'm bad with people."

"And you?" the man questioned, twisting around to face Kurapika.

The blonde went over the situation one last tome before giving an answer, "Shaky teamwork will only cause confusion. I will operate alone."

"So it's six to four. We have our answer."

One of the overseers of the meeting nodded, seeing that the discussion was over. "The auction begins at nine. We will transport you to the auction hall. Please wait here until it's time to depart."

Shichi stared out the window upon the city in hopes to amuse herself as the minutes passed. It faintly reminded her of their apartment back in Jianghai. A city bright and animated with life. When the sun went to sleep, Jianghai would open it's eyes of flashing neon signs and displays of up and rising idols and stars on giant plasma screens. The streets were equally as bright and busy and filled with just about the same amount of deceptive strangers who were waiting for a chance for someone to lower their guard.

Shichi generally was untouched by these people. She didn't seem like a good candidate with her ragged black coat, worn clothes, and dirty boots. But every once in a while, an idiot would come along and try to snatch the cerise globe that hung about her neck only to go away empty-handed. After waking up of course. In a police box. With a black eye.

The giant companies and fake smiles of politicians were equally as bad, if not worse, and Shichi came to wonder why the Alliance decided to put their headquarters in a place like Jianghai. She let out a tired huff.

"Do you not like the city?"

"I've seen my share of them," Shichi replied, glancing at the blonde through the reflection of the glass. Jianghai, Aos Langes, Pavis, Peijing, Yorknew... They were only a few of many.

She supposed that Kurapika wasn't a city boy, if his clothes were anything to go by. Someone from Begerossé? No, that didn't quite match up... "Why are you here?" He questioned.

"Alliance thinks this is a great chance to knock off a couple fellows from the blacklist," Shichi mentioned, sliding her hands into her pockets with something akin to a sarcastic smile.

The blonde raised a questioning eyebrow at her statement. "You are a Crime Hunter, correct? Wouldn't it be more appropriate to send a Blacklist Hunter for this job?"

The teen gave a tired sigh and shut her eyes in annoyance, "Most of our Blacklist Hunters are all up to their necks with work. You must have heard about the prison breaks."

There was a short answer of affirmation that he had. It seemed to constantly be on the news; there was a jail break here in Yorknew barely a month ago. Shichi heard that Witch was among the escapees.

"The remaining Blacklist Hunters aren't skilled enough to take on the Troupe. That's why I'm here."

"They sent you here alone?" He inquired doubtfully.

Her lips involuntarily twitched into a smirk. "Don't think I can handle it?"

"To be frank, I don't."

"Ouch."

-

Shichi navigated her way through the building cautiously. There was an overwhelming presence of Nen from the outside, announcing the Troupe's appearance if the rumbling explosions and muffled gunfire didn't say anything.

But she was more concerned about the inside of the building. It was highly likely that one of them had already stolen their way inside the hall. Those chances raised to a 100% when she found the body of one of the assassins lying on the ground, a pen pierced through his skull, ink mixing with blood.

Shichi bent down to get a better look at the body, studying it quickly. It was recent, very recent, probably hadn't even been two or three minutes since the assassin's death. The Troupe member wasn't very far.

She stood with a new wariness, was the member perhaps disguised as one of the guests? Entirely possible. One of Marron's favorite "phantom thief" methods. Shichi hurried down to the guest hall, where men were scattered about demanding for their phones, weapons, and information.

She spotted a blonde head a little further down and sped up to join him, the guitar case hitting against her back with her steps. "This is why I hate cities."

"I can see what you mean," he answered over the crash of someone shattering a vase.

"Right?" Shichi chimed, trying to hold up a conversation. She needed to stick with someone for now. Two head members of the Zoldyck family were present, so it would be beneficial for her if the two of them weakened her opponent first, or better yet, took care of the enemy completely.

Kurapika breathed out an irritated "it's becoming chaotic here," as they descended the steps to the front of the building where the gunfire was beginning to become something similar and mundane as the hum of the air conditioner.

The blonde's phone suddenly rang, and he swiftly answered, but stopped suddenly with surprise. Shichi leaned in a little to try and listen, and Kurapika seemed too occupied to move away and call her out on her obnoxiousness. "Is this Gon?!"

Gon... The name seemed very vaguely familiar. Had she heard it somewhere before?

"Yep. Can you talk right now?"

Kurapika glanced at the device then the battle just up ahead awkwardly, "Uh, sorry, I'm in the middle of something. I'll call you back."

"Wait!" The voice requested, "Can you give me one minute? I have something to tell you. Rukei, Killua, and I ran into the Troupe."

A series of mixed emotions and thoughts ran through her head. Gon was the name of one of Rukei's friends. And she and her said friends got into a scuffle with the Phantom Troupe. Shichi was angry, of course, it should have been very, very clear that the girl was nowhere near skilled or experienced enough to try anything. And though she didn't want to admit it, she was worried and just a little proud that Rukei ran into them and managed to escape alive.

"Actually they caught us," the boy corrected himself.

"What were you guys thinking?!" Kurapika demanded angrily, and Shichi pulled away as he began to yell, "Do you realize how dangerous they are?"

A different voice spoke into the phone this time, and since she didn't recognize it, it was safe to assume that this was 'Killua'. "I thought I knew, but after we met them, it became painfully clear. They're strong. Right now, we have no chance against them. That's why we need your assistance."

She heard Gon again, saying that he wanted to help.

Hilarious.

"That's ridiculous," Kurapika voiced her thoughts without the sarcasm, "I won't help you get yourselves killed."

"Don't you want to know where their base is?"

"I have my own sources of information."

"Do you know all their powers?"

"Enough!" the blonde snapped, "Just stay away from the Troupe!"

She couldn't see the boy talking, but she had a feeling that he was really getting annoyed. "You're the chain user who killed one of their members, right? They're looking everywhere for you. If you won't treat us as friends or equals, we'll do whatever we have to to help!"

There was a "humph!" at the end of the line and she heard it getting passed to someone else.

"Kurapika?"

Monotonous, serious, and of a higher pitch than the voices before. Shichi realized how long it had been since she had heard Rukei's voice. They hadn't spoken since their fight six months ago. Kurapika glanced at Shichi who made several motions with her hand crossing her neck. It loosely translated to 'if you say anything about me, I will freakin' kill you".

"Kurapika, do you remember what I said in Trick Tower?" She asked and Shichi found herself unconsciously leaning in further, "That you reminded me of Shichi-oneesan?"

Shichi suddenly had an incessant need to fight the blonde next to her. Rukei was her little sister and they had been that way for seven years! So maybe Shichi was mean and annoying but that's how siblings were, right? That didn't mean Rukei could go off and replace her-

"Shichi-oneesan almost destroyed herself trying to avenge someone alone... I couldn't do anything."

Oh.

"I remember what it felt like. I don't want to feel it again. I won't let it happen again."

Shichi didn't hear the rest of the conversation.

That's right.

That day, three years ago, Shichi wasn't the only one that got hurt.

She didn't realize how long she had been standing there, or how long they had both been standing there till Kurapika pulled her out of her thoughts. "You owe me one."

"Shut up."

A loud explosion sounded from the outside; the Troupe was very close by now. Shichi followed Kurapika as he burst outside to see flames crawl closer towards the building and a lone man illuminated by the conflagration. He stumbled closer, mumbling and shrieking things about their strength like a madman.

His movements were off. Shichi quickly drew back, spinning around behind the pillar as he suddenly went off trigger happy on his comrades. It was safe to assume that the Troupe had at least one skilled Manipulator in their ranks.

Kurapika however, was more concerned about the new information about the assassin's body found in the building, and that the Troupe had already ratted it's way inside. So, Shichi found herself accompanying Rukei's friend around to patrol the building.

"I doubt it's this way," Shichi advised half-heartedly as they wandered through a darker hallway, "If he's looking for you, he'd go to a more obvious, open area to draw you out. Looks like you and the Phantom Troupe have some kind of beef against each other.'

"I know that," the blonde replied as he turned the corner, and their to greet them was the body of an assassin. He analyzed it for few moments, and she huffed at the curt reply.

She should probably start seriously setting out for them as well. There were orders from above anyways. "I'll be going then," she mentioned briefly and he gave her a short nod but she stopped halfway down the hallway to look back with some words of wisdom, "Don't be an idiot."

A tremor rumbling the walls and her very bones brought her long search to a screeching halt.

"Saves me the trouble of searching," Shichi chimed with sarcastic optimism as she turned on the heels of her boots to head back the other direction and a couple floors below.

In a different location, away from the auction house, a storm raged outside windows that glowed with a yellow color indicating the inhabitance. But a flicker and a flash of lightning, and that yellow color was stolen away by that blue brilliance that ripped across the sky.

Under the thunder's roar, sounds of people falling against the ground dead and guns dropping out of arms could be heard. In the shadows, a young boy stood, observing his work through the darkness and rain. His eyes shifted towards his brother, who approached the doors of the mansion calmly.

"You're very good at your job."

Illumi turned to look back at the man who stood by the doors, looking over the ten corpses facing each other with needles pinned through their heads. "Oh, it's you."

The man stepped forward, the white lab coat still prominent through the darkness, "It's been a while, Illumi."

"It has," he agreed as he moved to face the man, "And what might you be doing here?"

"You have no use for the Ten Dons now, correct?" he questioned, spectacles catching the glow of the storm's light show.

The assassin understood what the scientist was hinting at. "I suppose you do then. Does that also apply to the person behind you?"

He glanced back towards the shadowed figure leaning against the dark walls, face hardly visible in contrast to the bright eccentric clothes. "Yes. This person is with us."

"I see," Illumi replied impassively, "Well, it's not my business what you do, but your incomplete subject enjoys hanging around my little brother, so please keep yourselves in check."

"We will only follow through with necessary actions," he affirmed, "If your brother need not be involved than he shall not be involved."

"That's reassuring," the assassin turned back suddenly having remembered something, "Oh, Hisoka wanted me to relay something. "

"You're in contact with him?" the other questioned with slight distaste coloring his tone.

Illumi gave a short sigh, "Unfortunately, yes," he admitted, "'Don't break Rukei,' is what he said."

The man didn't pay much mind or concern, brushing past Illumi, already beginning to set to work by searching for seals on fingers or any other important documents from fallen mafia leaders.

"You're not obliged to do anything, of course," Illumi added apathetically, "I was only asked to tell you that."

"Tell Hisoka that Solriss says not to bother him with stupid requests," he replied with an annoyed breath, "We don't break our subjects. We experiment on them."

-

Shichi had been known for being prepared, and when she wasn't she could pull through anyways.

She usually calculated and predicted for situations that seemed unimaginable and stayed five or six steps ahead of the enemy. No matter where they would turn, nothing but checkmate would be waiting for them. And if her plans went off rail, all it took was a little bit of adjusting and observing, and all was well again.

It would be simply fantastic if that applied to the situation currently.

The empty guitar case clattered to the floor and was kicked away far behind her. Close to it, her tattered jacket fell to the ground. Shichi held Tenjū in an iron grip, her knees bent and ready to spring into action in a split second's call. She had not expected to run into him in the middle of the empty open halls.

"You're one of the assassins, I suppose. Don't bother. The Ten Dons are dead."

Shichi kept her voice even and cool, though her body language said different, "I don't take orders from the Ten Dons."

The man, whose torn and tattered clothes spoke of a recent battle, blinked in confusion upon hearing her statement. She did not give him time to ponder as she bursted forward. But she did not reach her target.

She had swung the end of her gun to meet his head but a bruised arm raised to meet it. He stopped me?! With his bare hands?

The reaction was quick. Shichi swept away from a blow meant for her neck and spun upwards for another hit, only to be pushed away. She was engaged with another attack that she hardly had time to pull up Tenjū to fend it off. He must have fought with the Zoldycks, that could be the only explanation behind the tremor and the large amount of damage that he had already taken. And if he had fought the Zoldycks and somehow managed to come out alive, this man was undoubtedly the leader of the Phantom Troupe.

But why was he still so strong? How could he still fight her on even grounds? He must have been weighed down by some kind of fatigue or pain!

Suddenly she had lost sight of him, and her eyes darted about for a blur or shadow. A second of presence gave him away. Behind me?

Wings of Gabriel spread across her back suddenly, startling the opponent with the sudden appearance of glowing white feathers as she quickly whipped back around and fired. Trails of blood ran down his shoulder. Missed.

An amused smile ran over his face, "An angel? How interesting," he mused, "Did you know? One of us died recently."

"Oh?" Shichi voiced warily, more alert for movements.

"Have you seen him, Miss Angel?"

A scoff escaped her as she looked back up spitefully, "I guess even the Phantom Troupe mourns over it's comrades," she spat bitterly, and perhaps with just the slightest of envy. Even the Phantom Troupe.

"Of course," he replied, "Lazarus was wept over too, was he not?"

"Lazarus wasn't one of the disciples," she corrected, focusing her eyes towards his, "And you aren't God. No matter what you do or what requiem you play, 'Lazarus' isn't coming back."

The man kept his smile still. "You're as harsh as Solriss says."

"How do you know him?"

His reply was a sudden hit to her gut that sent her flying into one of the walls. Shichi got up just as quickly, and managed to knock away a punch with one of her wings and dart forward again. Her flight came to an abrupt stop as he suddenly opened up a book that had not been present in his hand before. A conjurer?

She flew back and up into a safe distance, overlooking the area cautiously, grateful for the high ceilings. She was angry and starved for information but she was disciplined and experienced enough not to continue charging in. It had happened once and it was not happening again.

An orange glowing orb had collected into his hand and disconnected from his aura. An emitter technique? But that book is conjured- Shichi was given no more time to think as she quickly swooped down to avoid it. He doesn't seem too adept in using it though- what the heck?!

The energy had redirected it's path towards her and she ducked down, soaring this way and that to shake it off her tail. But to no avail, in fact, the situation seemed to worsen for her as the single globe had split up into numbers for her to avoid.

No Conjurer should be able to create an emitter ability this complicated! Shichi ducked down and pulled one of her wings closer to her to avoid another causing a shift in her flight to her left only to see a bur of orange there. Trapped?!

And as if to blind or taunt her, the spheres began to flash and blink furiously and before she could take her next move, every single one exploded simultaneously and she was sent spiraling down to the ground with barely enough sense to catch some air to smooth her landing.

She glanced along the feathers to see areas of white discoloring, charred from the explosions.

"You are one messed up Specialist," Shichi muttered, spreading them out across quickly to shake off some debris already beginning to collect underneath the wings.

"You've figured it out already?" the man questioned with an intrigued grin, "This particular ability is created to explode after a set time. Until then, it will follow the target. No matter how far you fly, Miss Angel, you won't be able to escape."

Shichi grit her teeth, quickly running through her mind for some kind of solution to the problem. It's tricky and annoying, but it doesn't cause too much damage. She analyzed before studying her opponent best she could within the two or three seconds she had been graced with. It's more set to stun opponents of my level. But taking too many of them could be pretty bad...

She gave herself a boost off the ground with her feet before rushing towards him. If there wasn't a way to escape, it was more advantageous to face it straight on.

She closed in for a flurry of attacks and blocks, swinging the rifle left and right, inside and outside only to be met with a loud, resounding clang every time the unnatural metal was blocked or brushed aside.

Fatigue was starting to break in, and his last fight finally seemed to take a toll on the man as she landed an explosive kick and had a whipping slap of her wing to send him tumbling back after the exchange.

He had gotten up nonetheless, using the roll to spring himself back up without missing a beat to avoid a bullet from piercing through his chest only to skim just underneath her mark from earlier. Shichi cursed, bursting forward again only to be met by a flurry of stun grenade equivalents that she tried to shield herself from by wrapping her wings around herself.

While she minimized the damage from the emission attack, when she spread her Nen back out, she was met with a sudden punch to her face. Her vision went blurry for a second but those years of constant training allowed her to grab his arm in those blurry seconds cage him by locking her rifle before his elbow against her in that haze.

Her wing assisted as her makeshift punching arm, before letting go suddenly to guard from another Nen attack on his end. Steam rose from the ends of her feathers and she pat it out quickly.

"Your ability is fascinating," he mused as she closed her fingers to put out a single ember lighting on the tip of white, "When did you learn to do such a thing?"

"And when are you going to answer my question?" Shichi returned evenly, along with another barrage of swipes. They should not have been this easy for the man to counter, "To adjust to my fighting style this quickly, did Solriss tell you about this too?"

The man seemed to humor her request just for a little while as he swept in and around her attacks, "He did mention that you two liked to spar every now and then. He was very interested in the way you fought."

Shichi's punch suddenly had her tossed in a different direction, leaving her back open. But any attack towards her back was rendered useless as her wings beat away his efforts, "Oh, I'm sure," she drawled sarcastically, as she flew back and into the air as to avoid getting attacked right after her guard when the Nen orbs came after her again, "Everything was a blasted observation and survey in his eyes."

"You seem to really hate him," she heard him say over the loud blasts of energy. "It's hard to believe you were once friends."

"That was a long time ago," Shichi snarled, with a snap in her tone that brought a change in their fight. For the second that Shichi had lost it and punched thoughtlessly, he had moved to the inside and slammed his fist against her face.

Shichi slid back and when she whipped her head up again, the man was already hounding her down with a merciless array of attacks. She tried to use his overwhelming power against him by redirecting the moves and attacks but the man had anticipated this and managed to get most of the hits in.

She was most bothered by how easy it was for him to fight her. This type of counter only came from experience. He had fought with someone with a very similar style before, and the only person that burned into her mind was Solriss.

She took to the air immediately at the furious exchange, shaking away the fog crowding on the edge of her vision. "I have a proposal for you, Angel."

"Yeah?" Shichi returned with a sardonic sound to it as her clear vision was suddenly thrust back into confusion at the Nen flash bangs, "That doesn't sound suspicious at all."

"Let's flip a coin," he stated as he avoided one of her shots from the air and held up the little golden plate in between his fingers to show her, "If it's heads, I'll answer your question. If it's tails, you'll answer mine."

She hovered near to the ground but far from him, letting herself think while he talked. She could escape if she needed to, she was sure, but she wasn't getting a chance better than this to destroy the head of the Phantom Troupe. Casting it away was as good as betraying the Alliance. There must be some way, some way for her to-

Shichi was too slow to move out of the way, the man grabbing her wrist as she tried to jump back into the air. But he let her go as quickly as he grabbed her and she soared up some distance staring at what he had done.

"What the-" Shichi looked over her arm, where a brilliant color of orange had planted itself in a sphere shape. It blinked every few seconds and she stared at in confusion before looking down.

"It's a time bomb," he explained shortly, "It sticks to anything and anyone with Nen and is set to explode. Don't be mistaken, Angel. This isn't as friendly as the stun grenades we've been playing with."

Sure enough, it would not be removed from her body. When she touched it with her hand, it stuck to her palm and when she tried to swat it away by brushing it off, it stuck to her arm again. It was a simple thing, but highly dangerous and efficient.

It stuck to anything that had Nen, meaning if she dropped her Hatsu and her Ten armor, the bomb would disappear. But if she did drop it, a possibly greater damage would be awaiting her as her powerful enemy stood right before her.

The clink of a coin being flipped high into the air echoed in her mind as she watched the flashes happen in faster succession, and indication of it's near self destruction. The man smiled, watching her stare at it in desperation, looking for some way to get it off.

Shichi needed to do something.

And as the coin began it's descent, Shichi joined it, soaring down to him, grabbing him by the collar and trapping her wings around him.

"You're going down with me."

And like her feathers, white was the only thing she saw.

-

Shichi awoke, conscious that she was lying down and bleeding. She was alive but she felt like she was dying.

"It's heads."

She turned her head to the left tiredly. The man was sitting down next to her, thoroughly exhausted. He was alive too, and there was hardly a burn on him to prove that any explosion had happened. Now that she thought about it, neither did she.

But she was bleeding and he wasn't.

Shichi looked down to see a Ben's Knife on the floor in between them, from it's shape the poisoned type. That explained why she couldn't move a great deal, along with what had happened. The man must have deactivated the ability at the last moment and opted to take advantage of her close position and tight grip to stab her with the blade.

"I knew Solriss from Meteor City," he answered shortly as he stood up, hefting himself to his feet with an exhausted sigh, "That's all."

When the man looked at her, Shichi felt an overwhelming sense of defeat wash over her mind, her senses, and her heart.

"I imagined angels to be different."

And that was what the man had left her with, she that lay next to a weapon smeared in scarlet and a tattered old coat.

Shichi raised her hand to observe it against the ceiling. Her hands stained in red. How much blood had they spilled? How many lives had they taken? How many people suffered underneath them?

Shichi didn't remember.

But if these hands were destined to spill blood, if they were fated to take lives, if they were created to make others suffer, couldn't they have at least, at least, destroy the villains she was supposed to destroy?

Truly, an angel of justice.

A curse from her bloodied mouth. Her vision was darkening and that red was turning black. Her mind had capsized and she was left to navigate alone. No moon to light her path, no stars to guide her to land.

"This kinda feels nostalgic."

If only it was truly the same.

Her arm dropped limply over her eyes, an attempt to protect her mind by jettisoning her vision. It was so frustrating, so frustrating that she couldn't do anything but flail and flounder in the presence of the overwhelming storm; so humiliating, so painful, so frustrating.

"Where are you, Rukei?" Shichi laughed wryly, "Why are you always making promises you can't keep?"

Ah. She was drifting away. She was sinking,

drowning

in

    nothing.