There is such a place that teaches us to fight for, forcefully, indifference, and coldness, but it never tells us what warmth is. This place called Meteor Street, which is despised by the world and considered dirty, is my hometown.
Several years later, when I looked back on my childhood, what I felt was not endless fear and coldness, because at that time, I had many more companions around me. Yes, mate. A word that makes people feel warm, a word that can make me smile.
The one who impressed me the most was our leader, Chrollo. He was wearing a white shirt and turned his head among the ruins stained with yellow. The breeze gently ruffled his hair. He called me with a smile and his voice was crisp and soft: "Pike." That moment of warmth lit up my life. My name is Parker.
----------I am the dividing line of explanation----------
Among the hunters, I still feel sorry for Pike.
No beautiful appearance, guarding a hopeless love
But so persistent and stubborn
Chrollo may never understand Pike's heart
So being remembered as a friend and companion would be a happy ending for Parker, right?
Welcome to leave the claws.
P. S: This is a short story
Intention: