What You Want!?

Chrollo

Chrollo treats you like a living artifact at first, something rare, fragile, and deeply fascinating. He listens more than he speaks, observing the way you phrase sentences like you stepped out of a 19th-century novel, how you bow your head slightly when spoken to, how you thank people for things they didn’t realize they gave you.

Once he understands your Nen, his interest sharpens, but not cruelly. He asks careful questions about your abilities, your mother, the dead you see. Never prying, never rushing. He is one of the few who notices how lonely you are without you ever saying it.

He makes space for you. Literally. A seat beside him during planning. A book placed in your hands without comment. He doesn’t touch you often, but when he does, it’s grounding, hand on your shoulder, guiding you forward. You feel safe around him in a way you don’t yet have language for.

Chrollo quietly ensures no one in the Troupe treats you as a tool. You are not a weapon. You are not a resource. You are under his protection, and everyone understands what that means.

Pakunoda

Pakunoda realizes almost immediately how little affection you’ve had.

She’s gentle in a way that surprises even herself. When you stand too stiffly, unsure where to put your hands, she guides you without making a show of it. When you ask strange, morbid questions in that calm, polite voice, she answers honestly instead of brushing you off.

She never reads your memories without consent. Ever. Instead, she listens when you talk about the dead you see clinging to walls and hallways like fog.

You like sitting near her. She’s warm. Solid. When she rests a hand on your back, it’s reassuring, and you lean into it before you even realize you’ve done so. She doesn’t pull away.

Pakunoda is one of the first to realize you’re a child who wants affection but doesn’t know how to ask. So she gives it freely, quietly, without strings.

Feitan

Feitan finds you unsettling.

Which actually means he likes you.

You don’t think he’s weird. That alone throws him off. You look at him with calm curiosity, occasionally tilting your head and commenting, very politely, on the “residual anguish clinging to him like smoke.”

He pretends not to hear you.

But when you tell him the dead around him are loud, he goes slightly still.

Feitan never touches you without permission. But he stands close when things get dangerous. He doesn’t explain himself. He just… stays.

If someone snaps at you for being strange, Feitan is the one who steps in. Not verbally. Just presence. The threat is implied.

You think he’s fascinating. He thinks you’re fascinating. It works.

Uvogin

Uvogin immediately decides you’re “tiny and weird” and therefore his responsibility.

He crouches down to your height when talking to you, booming voice softening without him realizing it. He laughs loudly at your morbid observations, claps you on the shoulder a bit too hard, then apologizes when you wobble.

He’s very careful around you in fights. Overprotective, even. If something so much as looks like it might hurt you, he’s already moving.

You like sitting on his shoulders because it makes you feel tall and alive and seen. He brags about you like you’re a rare treasure.

“Kid sees ghosts. Coolest shit ever.”

Phinks

Phinks doesn’t get you at first. You’re too quiet. Too polite. Too… corpse-adjacent.

But then you start asking him questions. Endless ones. About the outside world. About people. About feelings. And he realizes, oh. You’re not creepy. You’re curious.

He answers bluntly, sometimes badly, but honestly. You absorb everything like a sponge.

Phinks becomes the one who explains “normal” social stuff to you in the most unfiltered way possible. You trust him because he doesn’t sugarcoat things.

If someone makes you uncomfortable, Phinks notices immediately. He doesn’t ask. He just removes the problem.

Nobunaga

Nobunaga is very gentle with you.

He likes that you sit quietly near him, watching, listening. He likes that you bow when thanking him. He likes that you call him “sir” until he awkwardly asks you not to.

He teaches you simple things, how to hold a weapon safely, how to stand your ground, how to listen to your instincts. He never pushes you to fight.

When you talk about your mother, he listens with a solemn intensity, sword resting across his knees. You feel like you’re being taken seriously for the first time.

Machi

Machi treats you like something delicate but not fragile.

She fixes your clothes when they’re torn, rebraids your hair when it comes undone, adjusts your posture with quiet efficiency. Her touch is precise, careful.

You’re fascinated by her Nen threads. She’s mildly alarmed when you mention the dead like them too.

If you’re hurt, Machi is there immediately. No fuss. No panic. Just competence. You trust her implicitly.

Franklin

Franklin is a wall. A shield. A constant.

You sit near him when you feel overwhelmed. He doesn’t speak much, but his presence is grounding. The dead around him are quiet, you note. That makes him safe.

He’s the one who wordlessly places a coat over your shoulders when it’s cold.

Kortopi

Kortopi likes you because you don’t demand conversation.

You sit together in comfortable silence. Sometimes you ask to see him copy things, candles, dolls, old furniture, and you thank him profusely every time.

He gives you small copied objects to keep. You treasure them like relics.

Bonolenov

Bonolenov respects you deeply.

You understand rituals. Death. Silence. He sees it in the way you move, the way you listen to unseen things.

You sit with him during his meditations. The dead are calm around him, you say. He takes that as a great honor.

Shizuku

Shizuku is unintentionally one of the safest people for you to cling to, because she never treats your necromancy like a big deal. You’ll casually mention that a ghost is sitting on the ceiling, and she’ll just go, “Oh. Tell them to move if they drip,” without missing a beat.

She treats you like a younger sibling she forgets she has, until she remembers, then she’s fiercely protective.

She lets you hold Blinky (supervised). You like her because she doesn’t think you’re strange. Just “a little spooky.”

At night, when you can’t sleep because the dead are loud, Shizuku lets you sit beside her in silence. Sometimes she hums under her breath, tuneless but steady.

Shalnark

Shalnark is fascinated by you, but in a careful way. He clocks your social awkwardness almost immediately and quietly takes it upon himself to help.

He explains things gently. Why people laugh. Why certain questions make others uncomfortable. Why touching someone without warning can scare them, even if you don’t mean harm. He never makes you feel stupid for not knowing.

When you talk about the dead, Shalnark listens with genuine curiosity. He asks about your Nen like it’s a puzzle, then switches gears entirely when he notices you getting overwhelmed. He’s good at redirecting, grounding you.

He’s the one who teaches you how to interact with people your age. Social rules. Smiling. Jokes. You practice with him.

Illumi

Illumi understands, on some level, what it is to be shaped into something unnatural. 

He finds you unsettling in a way that interests him. He studies you with an unreadable gaze, not predatory, but analytical. You were born dead and brought back wrong. He was born alive and carved into a weapon. The parallels are not lost on him.

You can see things he can’t. That bothers him. He watches you closely, thinking.

Still, he never harms you. Never threatens. You are under Chrollo’s protection, yes, but also… Illumi recognizes something unnatural in you. Something that should not be touched.

You’re unfailingly polite to him. Bowing slightly. Addressing him carefully. He seems to approve.

Hisoka

Hisoka is the most dangerous one for you to be around, and the Troupe knows it.

He’s intrigued by your Nen, your origin, your morbid curiosity. But every single time he steps too close, someone intervenes.

You sense something wrong around him, not like the dead, but like hunger. It makes the ghosts cling closer to you when he’s near.

Chrollo watches him carefully. So does Machi.