Battlefield - Chapter 03 - 5547 words
Note: ok, i technically finished this two weeks ago, but i was so unhappy with it, i just spent so long editing and rewriting, and i'm finally satisfied with it.
Beta-reader: unbeta'ed
Chapter title: Interlude
Chapter 03
Interlude
Kurapica stared at the man in front of him, uncertain of how to react. He was well aware that contagion was much faster now than it had been in the early years of the pandemic, and that there was a good chance now that the scratches he’d suffered hadn’t actually infected him-they were only acting with an abundance of caution, keeping him in quarantine-but he wasn’t sure why this Kuroro Lucifer, head of the Spiders, even cared about this.
The man didn’t explain further. He extended a hand towards Kurapica, and the blond felt a sudden desire to back away, to draw his knives, to avoid this strange person at all cost. There was a long, drawn-out silence where they stared at each other. Kuroro was calm, placid, patiently waiting for him. Kurapica felt like he was at the top of a tall building and the floor had suddenly disappeared from underneath his feet. The vertigo was as disorientating as it was inexplicable.
He didn’t want to touch him.
He didn’t want to look at him, to be anywhere near him, and yet, and yet, he found himself slowly raising his arm and pulling back his sleeve. Kuroro’s fingers wrapped around his wrist-his hands were cool, the skin surprisingly soft-and the blond had to resist the urge to rip his arm from the loose hold and run out the still open door. He forced himself to stay put, even as the older man inspected his arm. Kurapica also focused on his arm, trying very hard not to scream. It felt-everything felt-so wrong, so very wrong.
Kuroro slid his fingertips over the faint marks, barely visible, that was all the remaining signs of the attack, and Kurapica shivered. The movement stopped, and there was a pause. When Kurapica looked up, the older man’s dark eyes were fixed on his face, studying him with an intensity that was making something flare inside of the blond, warm and uncomfortable.
Kuroro finally let go of his arm, took a step back and cocked his head to the side. His eyebrows lowered minutely, giving him a slightly pensive look. He regarded the blond, and Kurapica hastily lowered his sleeve back over his arm and crossed his arms protectively in front of his chest. Then, without another word, Kuroro turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Kurapica could finally breathe again.
Even as he was relieved to find himself alone again, he felt somewhat irritated with the man for giving him this cryptic comment, then leaving without an explanation. He listened to the sound of the lock turning and heard it catch, then to the man’s footfall as he stepped away and crossed the hall to leave the building. He walked quietly to the windows and pushed one of the curtains aside to check that Kuroro had left, then he let the drape fall back into place.
He took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and finally did what he he’d been itching to do from the moment that the older man had come near his door; he triggered his Scarlet Eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to look at where Kuroro had stood, just inside of the door. He jolted a little, confused and angry in equal measures.
Right where the older man had stopped, Kurapica could see the outline of the man’s silhouette, blurry where he’d moved, but otherwise quite crisp. It was a bright vermilion red, one of the brightest he’d seen since leaving his village, years before, to go on his grand adventure. It couldn’t be. It made no sense. It wasn’t right.
Kurapica knew one thing, deep in the very bottom of his soul: Kuroro Lucifer was not a Kuruta. He didn’t know how or why the older man had come to display this aura, which-as far as Kurapica knew-only the Kuruta tribe had ever emitted at a frequency that was perceivable when using his Scarlet Eyes, but he could not deny what his own eyes were showing him. It was a disconcerting sight, and the blond found himself both intrigued and appalled by it. The implications escaped him for the moment, but he had to solve this riddle, he had to. Somehow.
He would have to find everything that he could about this man.
He retreated to his bed and sat beside it on the floor again, and picked up his book. For a few, long minutes, he stared at the door, turning his book over and over between his hands. Try as he might, he could not make sense of any of this, however, and eventually, he opened the tome and found his place in the chapter again. A few hours went by, and the unease lessened. Eventually, there was a soft knock at the door, which startled him quite badly, as he hadn’t heard anyone approach.
“It’s me, Senritsu,” came the pleasantly melodic voice of the young woman. “I’ve brought you clean clothes to change into, if you want to get yourself cleaned up.”
“Yeah,” Kurapica began, voice sounding strange to his own ear. He cleared his throat. “Come in.”
The key turned in the lock again, and Senritsu’s kind face appeared, somewhat hidden behind a pile of clothes and towels. Kurapica climbed to his feet and went to help her. He didn’t want to touch the bundle too much, as only his hands were clean enough to handle fresh clothes, and he hastily set the pile down on one of the beds.
“Thank you,” the diminutive woman said with a friendly smile.
“I should be the one thanking you,” Kurapica protested. “I’ll give the clothes back as soon as mine are washed.”
“Oh, no,” Senritsu said, shaking her head and smiling. “These are yours. Kuroro specifically went out into town to get them. He said they should fit.”
Kurapica blinked, startled. “Why would he do that?” he asked, too surprised to be polite. Why would this man, whom he’d only just met, go out into a city crawling with undead creeps and risk his life, and to bring him what? Clothes. Not food or medication, but mere clothes. The thought was jarring, and Kurapica didn’t quite know what to make of it.
Senritsu shrugged lightly. “I’ve stopped wondering why he does most of the things he does,” she said with a little frown which spoke of a few disagreements that probably didn’t sit very well with her.
“Does he always supply new people in the camp like this?” Kurapica wanted to know, though he had the feeling that he already knew the answer.
“No,” she admitted slowly.
“Only those who were scratched, but did not become infected,” Kurapica quoted.
“Well,” Senritsu said, “You would be the first who reported close contact with an infected weeks before arriving here while showing no sign of illness, and also the first person he’s gone shopping for, so I suppose that it’s entirely possible the two are related.”
Kurapica chewed on that for a moment. Senritsu looked patiently on, letting him analyze this information.
“When I arrived at the gate,” he said after a moment, “you asked me if I had a Spider tattoo. Why did you ask me that? He said-Kuroro said-that he was the head of the Spiders.”
Senritsu was quiet for the space of a few breaths, then shook her head with an apologetic look on her gentle face. “I’m going to have to let him answer that question, if he chooses to,” she said slowly, as if she were carefully choosing her words. “I can tell you that the Spiders are sort of the people who keep this camp safe but they’re not-” She cut herself short and waved a hand. “No, I think I should let you make your own opinion, if you decide to stay.”
Kurapica accepted that quietly. He waited a moment, but they seemed to have run out of things to say for the moment.
“Well,” Senritsu said, having clearly come to the same conclusion, “I should let you get yourself cleaned up and settled. Will you be wanting supper?”
Kurapica pondered on whether or not he trusted these people enough to eat the food they offered, but the truth of the matter was that he should accept whatever was given and keep the supplies he had for when he left again.
“Yeah,” he finally decided, “I’d love to have something to eat.”
She gave him a knowing smile, as if she had followed his mental train of thought and understood the reason for his slight hesitation. “I’ll bring you a plate,” she promised. “Should be a couple of hours until then, so-” Her eye caught on something behind Kurapica’s feet. “Oh! I see you have a book. Good; I was hoping that you wouldn’t get too bored, locked up in here.”
“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Oh, I have my clothes here. I can wash them after I get out of here, but-”
“I’ll take them,” Senritsu said as she picked them up from the floor by the door. “You just rest while you’re in here. The real world can wait for a week or two.”
Kurapica smiled, taken in by her kind nature. She smiled back and let herself out.
Alone again, Kurapica picked up the small but sturdy wooden beam next to the door and slid it through metal holders to block the door from the inside (the original lock seemed to have been forced). Feeling more secure like this, he went back to the bathroom to wash himself properly. The water remained warm for the entirety of his ablution, and that small comfort steadied him. Being entirely clean for the first time in months was a wonderful feeling, one that Kurapica would be wise not to get too attached to. If no actual Kuruta was in this camp, then he would certainly leave again. As soon as he had cracked open this enigma that one Kuroro Lucifer presented.
Kurapica got dressed in the clothes that the man had gotten for him, and was rather flummoxed to find that they fit. They were tighter than he preferred them, but fit him snugly. The jeans were dark, softer than he thought denim was supposed to feel, and looked to be quite good quality. The top he chose to wear also seemed to be higher-end kind of fabric, thin and comfortable. He supposed, since money was worthless and whoever had owned the shops in this town had probably died or turned a long time ago, one might as well get luxurious clothes, but Kurapica thought it would be more practical to shop at a workman shop to get sturdy cargos.
He settled down on his bed this time, finally feeling clean enough to take advantage of this comfortable luxury. He picked up his book to read and spent some time quite focused on the text. It was an interesting topic, and he was more than glad to put one enigmatic man out of his mind for now. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when there was some noise outside of his room again. There was the patter of feet and voices. Young voices. Kurapica stood from his bed and walked to the barred windows so he could push the curtain aside and look out to the hall.
“Gon, wait up,” someone said, and a young boy, presumably Gon, bounced into the hall and turned back towards a stairwell Kurapica remembered noticing on his way in but which was now just out of sight.
“Hurry,” the boy said, “I’m starving!”
He was so young. Well, Kurapica figured he was pretty young himself, but this boy looked he hadn’t even reached puberty yet. His friend-looking to be about the same age-finally appeared. He opened his mouth to say something, but then turned to where the Kuruta was standing. Kurapica froze in surprise, but the first boy turned towards him too.
“Is there someone in there?” he asked.
Seeing how there was no point pretending that he wasn’t there, Kurapica opened his curtain further. The two friends walked over to him.
“Hello,” said the darker of the two boys, pushing a hand between the bars, “I’m Gon and this is my friend Killua. What’s your name?”
Kurapica looked from one to the other, then at the hand. “You shouldn’t touch me,” he told Gon. “I’m in quarantine.”
The boy’s smile slipped a little before coming back full force. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s just polite to shake when you meet someone new.”
Kurapica found himself smiling back at him. “It is,” he agreed, “but dangerous when they’re in here.”
Killua smacked the back of Gon’s head. “You’re an idiot,” he informed him with the exasperated fondness of a close friend.
“So why’re you in there?” Gon asked.
“Obviously, he’s been in contact with the zombies,” Killua scoffed.
“I have,” Kurapica confirmed. “It’s been a few weeks, however. We’re just being careful.”
“Guess you can’t come to dinner then,” Killua said, with the tone of someone who didn’t care either way.
“Senritsu promised to bring something to-ah,” Kurapica spotted the woman in question carrying a tray. “She’d bringing it to me as we speak. You were hungry so you should go eat. I’ll still be here when you’ve had supper.”
“We’ll be back,” Gon promised as his friend pulled him away. Senritsu smiled at them as she crossed their path in the large hall.
“Supper,” she told Kurapica unnecessarily as she reached his confinement area.
He looked at the tray in wonder as she set it down to open the door.
“Home cooked food?” he asked. When had been the last time he’d even had a warm meal?
“We grow the vegetable and herbs ourselves,” Senritsu explained. “We supplement the gardens with canned goods, but we’re trying to be self-sufficient, as supplies are dwindling fast. Are you interested in gardening?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about gardening. Or cooking, for that matter.”
“That’s all right,” she assured him. “If you decide to stay, we’ll find you something to do around the camp.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he nodded and watched her unlock the door. He remembered the wooden bar only when she tugged on the door and it didn’t open. He hurriedly removed it, and she passed him the tray. She left shortly after and Kurapica took his time with the first home cooked meal he had had in a long, long time.
Kuroro didn’t come to see him again. Kurapica spent a week in quarantine, visited daily by Gon and Killua, and occasionally, the med student-Leorio-joined them too. They had pulled a few chairs close to his window and he’d dragged his bed closer to sit on the other side of the bars. He listened more than he talked, but they didn’t seem to mind and he learned a lot about his new acquaintances.
Killua had run away from home. Gon had left his island like Kurapica had, to see the world, unaware of the pandemic that had swept the planet. Leorio had been a student in this very city. He happened to own quite a few books, and was more than happy to loan some to Kurapica.
The week went by like this, so incredibly peaceful that it made Kurapica feel a little unsettled. He wasn’t used to feeling so safe. At the end of the week, Senritsu came to let Kurapica out and when he stepped through the door, he spotted his three friends-in-progress waiting for him out in the hall. A tiny smile pulled at his lips.
“Kurapica!” Gon greeted him cheerfully and came running towards him. He stopped in front of the blond and presented his hand to shake.
Kurapica’s smile widened. He took the proffered hand and squeezed.
“Are you going to stay here?” Leorio asked him, towering above all of them.
Kurapica tilted his head to one side, then shrugged. “For some time. There is something I need to do, but I’m also quite interested by the camp.”
“Kuroro said that you can have one of the apartments in the Tower,” Senritsu said. “In thanks for the medication, I think. It’s the most comfortable, and safest, building in the camp. It used to be a high-end apartment building.”
“I live there,” Leorio said, “being the only medical person in town. Comes with some perks.”
“I’ll probably stay for about a month,” Kurapica said, thinking that it may give him enough time to figure out why there were all these aura trails that should have been Kuruta, yet may not be.
“I’ll show you to the building,” Leorio said. “I think there’s a few apartments empty on the floor below mine.”
Kurapica nodded, hitched up his duffel strap, picked up the new bag he’d had to ask for to carry his new clothes and motioned for the medic to lead the way.
“We don’t live in the Tower,” Gon said. “We live here, but three stories up.”
“He probably figured that out a week ago,” Killua pointed out to his friend.
Kurapica’s smile widened. “I had an inkling that might be the case,” he admitted.
Senritsu took the new bag from his hand and gave him a sweet smile. “I live in the ugly red brick building near the gate,” she told him. “I’m the one who is in charge of that end of the fence, so I live close-by. It’s very convenient.”
“Have you thought of what you want to do while you stay here?” Leorio asked as they walked out behind the building and made their way to the main artery.
Kurapica thought about this for a moment. “I don’t have specific skills,” he admitted. “I’ve trained in martial arts when I was living at home, but this is kind of useless for fighting off the amblers when a simple scratch could kill you.”
“No,” Killua piped up, “but it’s pretty rad for scavenging, and you probably got those skills where you use the environment to fight off attackers. Were you in one of those schools?”
“Sort of,” Kurapica hedged, unwilling to discuss his lost tribe and their martial training just yet. “Why do you ask?”
“Leorio said you brought medicine,” Killua explained. “Means you went to the very back of a shop, where the pills usually are. That takes tons of self-confidence.”
“Killua and me are scavengers,” Gon announced proudly.
“Killua and I,” Senritsu gently corrected. At Kurapica’s amused glance, she smiled. “It’s good to use the proper grammatical structure, even during an apocalypse.”
As they reached the main road and Kurapica stepped out into the sun, he paused, right in the middle of the road. He opened his arms slightly and tilted his head back, upturning his face to the light. He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. It felt so marvellous, being outside again.
“I suppose I may try scavenging,” he agreed, opening his eyes again. The others had formed a semi-circle around him, eyeing him curiously (except for Killua, who had his hands in his pockets and was looking around with a bored expression on his face). “I’ve had to scavenge when travelling alone.”
“You don’t look strong enough to carry much,” Leorio pointed out.
Kurapica bristled. “You don’t look smart enough to study medicine,” he sent back, and he started down the avenue, leaving the others to gape at his back.
“Say that again?!” Leorio challenged.
Kurapica kept walking. Leorio had started this, as far as he was concerned. Kurapica had only been stating the obvious. The tall man did look stupid, with his spiky hair and tiny sunglasses that couldn’t really shield his eyes from any sunlight. Utterly impractical. He knew that he looked more feminine than most guys his age, but that did not mean that he was weak. What did Leorio know anyway?
“You do look pretty dumb, old man,” Killua pointed out, not too far behind the blond, so he must have followed.
“Killua,” Gon whined, also right behind him.
“Now, now,” Senritsu said in her sweet, soothing voice, “we all know that looks can be very deceiving.”
“Whatever,” Leorio grumped. He plodded after the little group, his footfall heavy behind Kurapica.
Suddenly, there was a shout, and they all paused and turned towards the noise. There was some sort of commotion by the fence, somewhere to his right. Senritsu handed Kurapica’s second bag to Killua who shouldered it with a shrug.
“You go get settled,” the petite woman told Kurapica. “I should go see what’s going on.” She trotted towards the noise, and the blond watched her go with some apprehension. He was surprised to find that he was desperately hoping that it was nothing and she’d be alright. It reminded him sharply that any of them could die or turn into one of the undeads at anytime.
The blond hesitated, somewhat remorseful that he’d let his temper flare for something so silly. He turned his head to look at Leorio. “Senritsu’s right,” he said, an apology of sorts, “one cannot judge a book by its cover. You’re probably very intelligent, despite your looks.”
“Whatever,” Leorio said again, sounding less grumpy this time.
They walked down the large street as a group, the silence a little strained, but not as brittle. Kurapica saw a few people rush towards the fence, rifles and shotguns in hand. Their boots stomped the ground as they ran, and Kurapica’s small party walked closer to the buildings on the other side of the street to let the defenders go by unimpeded.
They led Kurapica to a gleaming, modern building, and Leorio opened the door and went in, soon followed by Kurapica and his new friends. They went to the service stairs (“the elevator takes too much juice,” Leorio said. “I’m the only one allowed to use it, for medical emergencies.”) and up a few floors, until the tall man stopped.
“Most of this floor is empty, he said. “Basically, whatever apartment you can break into, you get to keep, is how we manage things. I got a friend to open mine. I’m not really strong or good with pick-locking.”
“You live above?” Kurapica asked him.
“Room 708,” Leorio confirmed.
“Is there anyone living just below you?”
“Nope,” the med student said.
“You don’t stomp, do you?” Kurapica asked him. “I could climb down from your window.”
“You could what?!” Leorio asked. “We’re on the sixth floor!”
“I’m aware,” Kurapica assured him.
Leorio looked from him to their companions, one by one, but Gon said, “If he’s confident he can do it, we should believe in him!”
“If you fall,” Leorio warned, turning on the blond, “I won’t treat you.”
“Leorio,” Gon whined with a childish pout.
The man in question heaved an aggravated sigh and led them up another floor, then down a hallway to his door. “I don’t want to hear crap about the mess,” he grumbled, shoving the key into his lock and twisting it. He opened the door on a very wide, very lived-in space.
Suddenly, a large man came running up the stairs. “Leorio,” he called, “we need you at the fence. Veze’s hurt!”
The tall man swore and grabbed Gon’s hand, upturned it and pressed his keys into it. “I’ll be back,” he promised.
“Can I have a look at your windows?” Kurapica asked and Leorio waved vaguely towards the far wall, then hurried after the stranger.
Kurapica watched him rush to the elevator, then he turned and made his way across the large, open-plan living area. The large bay of windows in the living room didn’t open at all, so Kurapica wandered down the small hallway to a bedroom, then an office, the two young boys trailing behind him. Both of these rooms had windows which could slide open, but the one in the office seemed to be easier to open, even from the outside. He nodded to himself, pushing the window open wide, then glanced back at his friends.
“Watch out for zombies,” Killua warned, letting his bag fall unceremoniously to the floor. “In the other apartments, I mean.”
“See you soon,” Gon added.
Kurapica set his bag down, checked his knives and heaved himself onto the windowsill. He turned so he was facing the room and carefully sought a foothold. Then he slid his other foot a little lower and found a pipe. He tested it gently to see if it would hold him, then he lowered himself. He slowly climbed down the brick wall, using ledges and pipes, as well as his strong and clever fingers to find places to grip. He soon got to the window below, and to his delight, it was already open. He anchored himself firmly onto the this windowsill and shoved the edge of the screen. It fell into the room and Kurapica slid inside, then quickly unsheathed his knives.
He took a moment to listen carefully, trying to hear if anything was coming towards him, drawn in by the noise of the window screen falling to the floor. His own breathing and heartbeat felt too loud to his own ears and he tried to suppress both so he could listen to noises outside of himself. Everything seemed still and silent, so he edged carefully out of the office to explore the rest of the apartment. He peered into the bedroom, the bathroom and the supply closet, then carefully made his way to the living area. Empty. Whomever had lived there had died or turned elsewhere.
There was a side table near the front door and a set of keys had been left in a basket on top of it. He tried them on the entrance. He quietly went out into the hallway and locked the door behind him, then made his way up to knock at Leorio’s door.
Senritsu opened it nearly as soon as he’d lowered his hand again. At his surprised look, she had a soft, tinkling laugh. “I heard you come up,” she explained. “There was a scuffle at the fence, but everything’s in order.”
Kurapica was suitably impressed. She must have excellent hearing to have heard him climb the stairs. “How’s Veze?” he asked, trying out the name he’d heard.
Her gaze grew troubled. “Dead,” she said. “She started turning right away. The infection is getting to be so fast, we can’t keep up. Bashou had to kill her before she turned completely. He’s pretty upset. They’d been friends for some time.” She sighed then waved her hand. “Have you found suitable lodgings?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry about Veze.”
She nodded and gave him a small, sad and tired smile. “It is always sad when we lose people. But I should let you get settled in. Gon and Killua are keeping Leorio company. He’s got a big heart, and he’s always reasonably upset when we lose someone. Here, I have your bags.”
Kurapica took his belongings from her hands and she promised to have someone take him to the cafeteria for dinner. With a last glance at her sad smile, he went down to his new place. He had a lot of cleaning to do to get settled in. He started by washing the bed covers and cleaning most of the accumulated dust in the bedroom, as he wanted to be able to sleep in there that night. He found all the cleaning supplies he needed in the cupboard off of the hallway and spent a good length of time disinfecting as much as he could (just to be safe). He focused on the doorknobs and light switches as well as taps and anywhere he thought he’d end up touching that day. Once the bed sheets were clean, he put the pillows and blanket in the washer and started another cycle, then he proceeded to turn on his Scarlet Eyes, though he didn’t expect much.
The apartment was clear of any trail, as he’d guessed, but as he reached the room he’d broken in from, his gaze was immediately drawn to the window. There was his own trail, of course, red and gold, sharp and fresh, but there were also some going vertically in front of the window. He walked closer and peered outside. He could see trails all over the small compound, connecting, intersecting, meeting and separating again. And they all converged at the foot of the building, and from there, went directly up. He followed them up with his gaze, the trails a jumble of blurry colours, and saw that they went up to the roof.
He was pretty grubby by that point, but he still grabbed his keys and went outside to investigate. Even on the ground, there was no way he could see one could go up, unless whoever left these trails behind (he wasn’t assuming they were Kuruta anymore) had scaled the walls. Back inside, he went up the stairwell, trying to get to the roof, but around the 11th floor, the staircase had been smashed and destroyed, and there was no way for him to go up the last two floors when the walls were smooth and there was no grip anywhere that he could see. Even the rubble had been taken away. Whoever was up there, they didn’t want any surprise visitor.
Kurapica went back to his new apartment and cleaned out spoiled food from the pantry and fridge, and then realized that he didn’t know what people did about garbage disposal. Well, he could ask his friend when he met with them for dinner. He went and took a shower, the most glorious human invention he could think of as he luxuriated under the warm spray. He got out and dried himself quickly, then transferred the pillows and blanket to dryer and started a cycle. Only then did he take a much needed rest with a novel he’d found in one of the well-stocked bookcases in his new home.
Leorio came to collect him for dinner, announcing his presence with a sharp knock. He waved his condolences away with affected disinterest, but he did give him a slightly sad smile a moment later. He led him a few blocks from their buildings, giving Kurapica the guidelines for garbage and laundry, as they had to take turns so as not to overwhelm their slightly fragile grid. Kurapica apologized for doing it out of turn, but Leorio assured him it was fine, since he wasn’t aware of the guidelines just yet. The resources were spread thin, though there were perhaps a little over a hundred people living there. The guidelines were simply there to make sure no one wanted for anything.
Two blocks from their apartment building, Leorio guided him into a school, where the cafeteria had been deemed the perfect place for the small community to get their meals. Kurapica soon found himself seated at a long table with a warm meal before him and his new acquaintances all around him. Quite a few people were eating all around them, and there were many a curious glances sent their way.
Dinner was generally pleasant, but after such a long time spent alone, Kurapica felt slightly overwhelmed. In quarantine, there had been a level of separation between himself and his new acquaintances, but like this, with Leorio quite tactile, clapping his shoulder or poking his arm, it was a little much.
He’d mostly finished his meal, when a hush fell over what had been quite boisterous cafeteria. He lifted his head and followed the gaze of his companions, but at first, he couldn’t find what they were all looking at. He was about to ask what was happening, when movement between the tables finally drew his attention.
There was a very short figure heading their way, dressed in black from head to toe. Kurapica wasn’t very tall himself, but this person seemed to be closer to Killua’s height. It winded between the tables and making its way to where Kurapica was sitting. As it drew closer and closer, apprehension crept up Kurapica’s spine, the same sort of revulsion that had filled him when he’d been in the presence of the Spider Head. Soon, the blond could see that it was a short man with black hair, a handkerchief tied around his neck like an old time highwayman.
“You,” he said, pointing straight at Kurapica, “you’ll come with me.” His speech was clear but oddly lilting with an accent the blond couldn’t place.
“Why are the Spiders interested in Kurapica?” Leorio asked. He looked tense, and his reaction made Kurapica glance at him.
“Dancho wants to see him,” the short man replied, then, to Kurapica, “Come with me.”
The Kuruta slowly got to his feet. He glanced at the people around the table. They all looked tense and uncomfortable. Perhaps they all felt the same discomfort he felt around these people. This was the second Spider he met, and Kurapica couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps all of them gave off this overwhelming feeling of wrongness.
The young man looked Kurapica up and down, then turned away, somewhat dismissively, and started back across the cafeteria. With one last look at his new friends, Kurapica went after him.
Beta-reader: unbeta'ed
Chapter title: Interlude
Chapter 03
Interlude
Kurapica stared at the man in front of him, uncertain of how to react. He was well aware that contagion was much faster now than it had been in the early years of the pandemic, and that there was a good chance now that the scratches he’d suffered hadn’t actually infected him-they were only acting with an abundance of caution, keeping him in quarantine-but he wasn’t sure why this Kuroro Lucifer, head of the Spiders, even cared about this.
The man didn’t explain further. He extended a hand towards Kurapica, and the blond felt a sudden desire to back away, to draw his knives, to avoid this strange person at all cost. There was a long, drawn-out silence where they stared at each other. Kuroro was calm, placid, patiently waiting for him. Kurapica felt like he was at the top of a tall building and the floor had suddenly disappeared from underneath his feet. The vertigo was as disorientating as it was inexplicable.
He didn’t want to touch him.
He didn’t want to look at him, to be anywhere near him, and yet, and yet, he found himself slowly raising his arm and pulling back his sleeve. Kuroro’s fingers wrapped around his wrist-his hands were cool, the skin surprisingly soft-and the blond had to resist the urge to rip his arm from the loose hold and run out the still open door. He forced himself to stay put, even as the older man inspected his arm. Kurapica also focused on his arm, trying very hard not to scream. It felt-everything felt-so wrong, so very wrong.
Kuroro slid his fingertips over the faint marks, barely visible, that was all the remaining signs of the attack, and Kurapica shivered. The movement stopped, and there was a pause. When Kurapica looked up, the older man’s dark eyes were fixed on his face, studying him with an intensity that was making something flare inside of the blond, warm and uncomfortable.
Kuroro finally let go of his arm, took a step back and cocked his head to the side. His eyebrows lowered minutely, giving him a slightly pensive look. He regarded the blond, and Kurapica hastily lowered his sleeve back over his arm and crossed his arms protectively in front of his chest. Then, without another word, Kuroro turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Kurapica could finally breathe again.
Even as he was relieved to find himself alone again, he felt somewhat irritated with the man for giving him this cryptic comment, then leaving without an explanation. He listened to the sound of the lock turning and heard it catch, then to the man’s footfall as he stepped away and crossed the hall to leave the building. He walked quietly to the windows and pushed one of the curtains aside to check that Kuroro had left, then he let the drape fall back into place.
He took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and finally did what he he’d been itching to do from the moment that the older man had come near his door; he triggered his Scarlet Eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to look at where Kuroro had stood, just inside of the door. He jolted a little, confused and angry in equal measures.
Right where the older man had stopped, Kurapica could see the outline of the man’s silhouette, blurry where he’d moved, but otherwise quite crisp. It was a bright vermilion red, one of the brightest he’d seen since leaving his village, years before, to go on his grand adventure. It couldn’t be. It made no sense. It wasn’t right.
Kurapica knew one thing, deep in the very bottom of his soul: Kuroro Lucifer was not a Kuruta. He didn’t know how or why the older man had come to display this aura, which-as far as Kurapica knew-only the Kuruta tribe had ever emitted at a frequency that was perceivable when using his Scarlet Eyes, but he could not deny what his own eyes were showing him. It was a disconcerting sight, and the blond found himself both intrigued and appalled by it. The implications escaped him for the moment, but he had to solve this riddle, he had to. Somehow.
He would have to find everything that he could about this man.
He retreated to his bed and sat beside it on the floor again, and picked up his book. For a few, long minutes, he stared at the door, turning his book over and over between his hands. Try as he might, he could not make sense of any of this, however, and eventually, he opened the tome and found his place in the chapter again. A few hours went by, and the unease lessened. Eventually, there was a soft knock at the door, which startled him quite badly, as he hadn’t heard anyone approach.
“It’s me, Senritsu,” came the pleasantly melodic voice of the young woman. “I’ve brought you clean clothes to change into, if you want to get yourself cleaned up.”
“Yeah,” Kurapica began, voice sounding strange to his own ear. He cleared his throat. “Come in.”
The key turned in the lock again, and Senritsu’s kind face appeared, somewhat hidden behind a pile of clothes and towels. Kurapica climbed to his feet and went to help her. He didn’t want to touch the bundle too much, as only his hands were clean enough to handle fresh clothes, and he hastily set the pile down on one of the beds.
“Thank you,” the diminutive woman said with a friendly smile.
“I should be the one thanking you,” Kurapica protested. “I’ll give the clothes back as soon as mine are washed.”
“Oh, no,” Senritsu said, shaking her head and smiling. “These are yours. Kuroro specifically went out into town to get them. He said they should fit.”
Kurapica blinked, startled. “Why would he do that?” he asked, too surprised to be polite. Why would this man, whom he’d only just met, go out into a city crawling with undead creeps and risk his life, and to bring him what? Clothes. Not food or medication, but mere clothes. The thought was jarring, and Kurapica didn’t quite know what to make of it.
Senritsu shrugged lightly. “I’ve stopped wondering why he does most of the things he does,” she said with a little frown which spoke of a few disagreements that probably didn’t sit very well with her.
“Does he always supply new people in the camp like this?” Kurapica wanted to know, though he had the feeling that he already knew the answer.
“No,” she admitted slowly.
“Only those who were scratched, but did not become infected,” Kurapica quoted.
“Well,” Senritsu said, “You would be the first who reported close contact with an infected weeks before arriving here while showing no sign of illness, and also the first person he’s gone shopping for, so I suppose that it’s entirely possible the two are related.”
Kurapica chewed on that for a moment. Senritsu looked patiently on, letting him analyze this information.
“When I arrived at the gate,” he said after a moment, “you asked me if I had a Spider tattoo. Why did you ask me that? He said-Kuroro said-that he was the head of the Spiders.”
Senritsu was quiet for the space of a few breaths, then shook her head with an apologetic look on her gentle face. “I’m going to have to let him answer that question, if he chooses to,” she said slowly, as if she were carefully choosing her words. “I can tell you that the Spiders are sort of the people who keep this camp safe but they’re not-” She cut herself short and waved a hand. “No, I think I should let you make your own opinion, if you decide to stay.”
Kurapica accepted that quietly. He waited a moment, but they seemed to have run out of things to say for the moment.
“Well,” Senritsu said, having clearly come to the same conclusion, “I should let you get yourself cleaned up and settled. Will you be wanting supper?”
Kurapica pondered on whether or not he trusted these people enough to eat the food they offered, but the truth of the matter was that he should accept whatever was given and keep the supplies he had for when he left again.
“Yeah,” he finally decided, “I’d love to have something to eat.”
She gave him a knowing smile, as if she had followed his mental train of thought and understood the reason for his slight hesitation. “I’ll bring you a plate,” she promised. “Should be a couple of hours until then, so-” Her eye caught on something behind Kurapica’s feet. “Oh! I see you have a book. Good; I was hoping that you wouldn’t get too bored, locked up in here.”
“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Oh, I have my clothes here. I can wash them after I get out of here, but-”
“I’ll take them,” Senritsu said as she picked them up from the floor by the door. “You just rest while you’re in here. The real world can wait for a week or two.”
Kurapica smiled, taken in by her kind nature. She smiled back and let herself out.
Alone again, Kurapica picked up the small but sturdy wooden beam next to the door and slid it through metal holders to block the door from the inside (the original lock seemed to have been forced). Feeling more secure like this, he went back to the bathroom to wash himself properly. The water remained warm for the entirety of his ablution, and that small comfort steadied him. Being entirely clean for the first time in months was a wonderful feeling, one that Kurapica would be wise not to get too attached to. If no actual Kuruta was in this camp, then he would certainly leave again. As soon as he had cracked open this enigma that one Kuroro Lucifer presented.
Kurapica got dressed in the clothes that the man had gotten for him, and was rather flummoxed to find that they fit. They were tighter than he preferred them, but fit him snugly. The jeans were dark, softer than he thought denim was supposed to feel, and looked to be quite good quality. The top he chose to wear also seemed to be higher-end kind of fabric, thin and comfortable. He supposed, since money was worthless and whoever had owned the shops in this town had probably died or turned a long time ago, one might as well get luxurious clothes, but Kurapica thought it would be more practical to shop at a workman shop to get sturdy cargos.
He settled down on his bed this time, finally feeling clean enough to take advantage of this comfortable luxury. He picked up his book to read and spent some time quite focused on the text. It was an interesting topic, and he was more than glad to put one enigmatic man out of his mind for now. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when there was some noise outside of his room again. There was the patter of feet and voices. Young voices. Kurapica stood from his bed and walked to the barred windows so he could push the curtain aside and look out to the hall.
“Gon, wait up,” someone said, and a young boy, presumably Gon, bounced into the hall and turned back towards a stairwell Kurapica remembered noticing on his way in but which was now just out of sight.
“Hurry,” the boy said, “I’m starving!”
He was so young. Well, Kurapica figured he was pretty young himself, but this boy looked he hadn’t even reached puberty yet. His friend-looking to be about the same age-finally appeared. He opened his mouth to say something, but then turned to where the Kuruta was standing. Kurapica froze in surprise, but the first boy turned towards him too.
“Is there someone in there?” he asked.
Seeing how there was no point pretending that he wasn’t there, Kurapica opened his curtain further. The two friends walked over to him.
“Hello,” said the darker of the two boys, pushing a hand between the bars, “I’m Gon and this is my friend Killua. What’s your name?”
Kurapica looked from one to the other, then at the hand. “You shouldn’t touch me,” he told Gon. “I’m in quarantine.”
The boy’s smile slipped a little before coming back full force. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s just polite to shake when you meet someone new.”
Kurapica found himself smiling back at him. “It is,” he agreed, “but dangerous when they’re in here.”
Killua smacked the back of Gon’s head. “You’re an idiot,” he informed him with the exasperated fondness of a close friend.
“So why’re you in there?” Gon asked.
“Obviously, he’s been in contact with the zombies,” Killua scoffed.
“I have,” Kurapica confirmed. “It’s been a few weeks, however. We’re just being careful.”
“Guess you can’t come to dinner then,” Killua said, with the tone of someone who didn’t care either way.
“Senritsu promised to bring something to-ah,” Kurapica spotted the woman in question carrying a tray. “She’d bringing it to me as we speak. You were hungry so you should go eat. I’ll still be here when you’ve had supper.”
“We’ll be back,” Gon promised as his friend pulled him away. Senritsu smiled at them as she crossed their path in the large hall.
“Supper,” she told Kurapica unnecessarily as she reached his confinement area.
He looked at the tray in wonder as she set it down to open the door.
“Home cooked food?” he asked. When had been the last time he’d even had a warm meal?
“We grow the vegetable and herbs ourselves,” Senritsu explained. “We supplement the gardens with canned goods, but we’re trying to be self-sufficient, as supplies are dwindling fast. Are you interested in gardening?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about gardening. Or cooking, for that matter.”
“That’s all right,” she assured him. “If you decide to stay, we’ll find you something to do around the camp.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he nodded and watched her unlock the door. He remembered the wooden bar only when she tugged on the door and it didn’t open. He hurriedly removed it, and she passed him the tray. She left shortly after and Kurapica took his time with the first home cooked meal he had had in a long, long time.
Kuroro didn’t come to see him again. Kurapica spent a week in quarantine, visited daily by Gon and Killua, and occasionally, the med student-Leorio-joined them too. They had pulled a few chairs close to his window and he’d dragged his bed closer to sit on the other side of the bars. He listened more than he talked, but they didn’t seem to mind and he learned a lot about his new acquaintances.
Killua had run away from home. Gon had left his island like Kurapica had, to see the world, unaware of the pandemic that had swept the planet. Leorio had been a student in this very city. He happened to own quite a few books, and was more than happy to loan some to Kurapica.
The week went by like this, so incredibly peaceful that it made Kurapica feel a little unsettled. He wasn’t used to feeling so safe. At the end of the week, Senritsu came to let Kurapica out and when he stepped through the door, he spotted his three friends-in-progress waiting for him out in the hall. A tiny smile pulled at his lips.
“Kurapica!” Gon greeted him cheerfully and came running towards him. He stopped in front of the blond and presented his hand to shake.
Kurapica’s smile widened. He took the proffered hand and squeezed.
“Are you going to stay here?” Leorio asked him, towering above all of them.
Kurapica tilted his head to one side, then shrugged. “For some time. There is something I need to do, but I’m also quite interested by the camp.”
“Kuroro said that you can have one of the apartments in the Tower,” Senritsu said. “In thanks for the medication, I think. It’s the most comfortable, and safest, building in the camp. It used to be a high-end apartment building.”
“I live there,” Leorio said, “being the only medical person in town. Comes with some perks.”
“I’ll probably stay for about a month,” Kurapica said, thinking that it may give him enough time to figure out why there were all these aura trails that should have been Kuruta, yet may not be.
“I’ll show you to the building,” Leorio said. “I think there’s a few apartments empty on the floor below mine.”
Kurapica nodded, hitched up his duffel strap, picked up the new bag he’d had to ask for to carry his new clothes and motioned for the medic to lead the way.
“We don’t live in the Tower,” Gon said. “We live here, but three stories up.”
“He probably figured that out a week ago,” Killua pointed out to his friend.
Kurapica’s smile widened. “I had an inkling that might be the case,” he admitted.
Senritsu took the new bag from his hand and gave him a sweet smile. “I live in the ugly red brick building near the gate,” she told him. “I’m the one who is in charge of that end of the fence, so I live close-by. It’s very convenient.”
“Have you thought of what you want to do while you stay here?” Leorio asked as they walked out behind the building and made their way to the main artery.
Kurapica thought about this for a moment. “I don’t have specific skills,” he admitted. “I’ve trained in martial arts when I was living at home, but this is kind of useless for fighting off the amblers when a simple scratch could kill you.”
“No,” Killua piped up, “but it’s pretty rad for scavenging, and you probably got those skills where you use the environment to fight off attackers. Were you in one of those schools?”
“Sort of,” Kurapica hedged, unwilling to discuss his lost tribe and their martial training just yet. “Why do you ask?”
“Leorio said you brought medicine,” Killua explained. “Means you went to the very back of a shop, where the pills usually are. That takes tons of self-confidence.”
“Killua and me are scavengers,” Gon announced proudly.
“Killua and I,” Senritsu gently corrected. At Kurapica’s amused glance, she smiled. “It’s good to use the proper grammatical structure, even during an apocalypse.”
As they reached the main road and Kurapica stepped out into the sun, he paused, right in the middle of the road. He opened his arms slightly and tilted his head back, upturning his face to the light. He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. It felt so marvellous, being outside again.
“I suppose I may try scavenging,” he agreed, opening his eyes again. The others had formed a semi-circle around him, eyeing him curiously (except for Killua, who had his hands in his pockets and was looking around with a bored expression on his face). “I’ve had to scavenge when travelling alone.”
“You don’t look strong enough to carry much,” Leorio pointed out.
Kurapica bristled. “You don’t look smart enough to study medicine,” he sent back, and he started down the avenue, leaving the others to gape at his back.
“Say that again?!” Leorio challenged.
Kurapica kept walking. Leorio had started this, as far as he was concerned. Kurapica had only been stating the obvious. The tall man did look stupid, with his spiky hair and tiny sunglasses that couldn’t really shield his eyes from any sunlight. Utterly impractical. He knew that he looked more feminine than most guys his age, but that did not mean that he was weak. What did Leorio know anyway?
“You do look pretty dumb, old man,” Killua pointed out, not too far behind the blond, so he must have followed.
“Killua,” Gon whined, also right behind him.
“Now, now,” Senritsu said in her sweet, soothing voice, “we all know that looks can be very deceiving.”
“Whatever,” Leorio grumped. He plodded after the little group, his footfall heavy behind Kurapica.
Suddenly, there was a shout, and they all paused and turned towards the noise. There was some sort of commotion by the fence, somewhere to his right. Senritsu handed Kurapica’s second bag to Killua who shouldered it with a shrug.
“You go get settled,” the petite woman told Kurapica. “I should go see what’s going on.” She trotted towards the noise, and the blond watched her go with some apprehension. He was surprised to find that he was desperately hoping that it was nothing and she’d be alright. It reminded him sharply that any of them could die or turn into one of the undeads at anytime.
The blond hesitated, somewhat remorseful that he’d let his temper flare for something so silly. He turned his head to look at Leorio. “Senritsu’s right,” he said, an apology of sorts, “one cannot judge a book by its cover. You’re probably very intelligent, despite your looks.”
“Whatever,” Leorio said again, sounding less grumpy this time.
They walked down the large street as a group, the silence a little strained, but not as brittle. Kurapica saw a few people rush towards the fence, rifles and shotguns in hand. Their boots stomped the ground as they ran, and Kurapica’s small party walked closer to the buildings on the other side of the street to let the defenders go by unimpeded.
They led Kurapica to a gleaming, modern building, and Leorio opened the door and went in, soon followed by Kurapica and his new friends. They went to the service stairs (“the elevator takes too much juice,” Leorio said. “I’m the only one allowed to use it, for medical emergencies.”) and up a few floors, until the tall man stopped.
“Most of this floor is empty, he said. “Basically, whatever apartment you can break into, you get to keep, is how we manage things. I got a friend to open mine. I’m not really strong or good with pick-locking.”
“You live above?” Kurapica asked him.
“Room 708,” Leorio confirmed.
“Is there anyone living just below you?”
“Nope,” the med student said.
“You don’t stomp, do you?” Kurapica asked him. “I could climb down from your window.”
“You could what?!” Leorio asked. “We’re on the sixth floor!”
“I’m aware,” Kurapica assured him.
Leorio looked from him to their companions, one by one, but Gon said, “If he’s confident he can do it, we should believe in him!”
“If you fall,” Leorio warned, turning on the blond, “I won’t treat you.”
“Leorio,” Gon whined with a childish pout.
The man in question heaved an aggravated sigh and led them up another floor, then down a hallway to his door. “I don’t want to hear crap about the mess,” he grumbled, shoving the key into his lock and twisting it. He opened the door on a very wide, very lived-in space.
Suddenly, a large man came running up the stairs. “Leorio,” he called, “we need you at the fence. Veze’s hurt!”
The tall man swore and grabbed Gon’s hand, upturned it and pressed his keys into it. “I’ll be back,” he promised.
“Can I have a look at your windows?” Kurapica asked and Leorio waved vaguely towards the far wall, then hurried after the stranger.
Kurapica watched him rush to the elevator, then he turned and made his way across the large, open-plan living area. The large bay of windows in the living room didn’t open at all, so Kurapica wandered down the small hallway to a bedroom, then an office, the two young boys trailing behind him. Both of these rooms had windows which could slide open, but the one in the office seemed to be easier to open, even from the outside. He nodded to himself, pushing the window open wide, then glanced back at his friends.
“Watch out for zombies,” Killua warned, letting his bag fall unceremoniously to the floor. “In the other apartments, I mean.”
“See you soon,” Gon added.
Kurapica set his bag down, checked his knives and heaved himself onto the windowsill. He turned so he was facing the room and carefully sought a foothold. Then he slid his other foot a little lower and found a pipe. He tested it gently to see if it would hold him, then he lowered himself. He slowly climbed down the brick wall, using ledges and pipes, as well as his strong and clever fingers to find places to grip. He soon got to the window below, and to his delight, it was already open. He anchored himself firmly onto the this windowsill and shoved the edge of the screen. It fell into the room and Kurapica slid inside, then quickly unsheathed his knives.
He took a moment to listen carefully, trying to hear if anything was coming towards him, drawn in by the noise of the window screen falling to the floor. His own breathing and heartbeat felt too loud to his own ears and he tried to suppress both so he could listen to noises outside of himself. Everything seemed still and silent, so he edged carefully out of the office to explore the rest of the apartment. He peered into the bedroom, the bathroom and the supply closet, then carefully made his way to the living area. Empty. Whomever had lived there had died or turned elsewhere.
There was a side table near the front door and a set of keys had been left in a basket on top of it. He tried them on the entrance. He quietly went out into the hallway and locked the door behind him, then made his way up to knock at Leorio’s door.
Senritsu opened it nearly as soon as he’d lowered his hand again. At his surprised look, she had a soft, tinkling laugh. “I heard you come up,” she explained. “There was a scuffle at the fence, but everything’s in order.”
Kurapica was suitably impressed. She must have excellent hearing to have heard him climb the stairs. “How’s Veze?” he asked, trying out the name he’d heard.
Her gaze grew troubled. “Dead,” she said. “She started turning right away. The infection is getting to be so fast, we can’t keep up. Bashou had to kill her before she turned completely. He’s pretty upset. They’d been friends for some time.” She sighed then waved her hand. “Have you found suitable lodgings?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry about Veze.”
She nodded and gave him a small, sad and tired smile. “It is always sad when we lose people. But I should let you get settled in. Gon and Killua are keeping Leorio company. He’s got a big heart, and he’s always reasonably upset when we lose someone. Here, I have your bags.”
Kurapica took his belongings from her hands and she promised to have someone take him to the cafeteria for dinner. With a last glance at her sad smile, he went down to his new place. He had a lot of cleaning to do to get settled in. He started by washing the bed covers and cleaning most of the accumulated dust in the bedroom, as he wanted to be able to sleep in there that night. He found all the cleaning supplies he needed in the cupboard off of the hallway and spent a good length of time disinfecting as much as he could (just to be safe). He focused on the doorknobs and light switches as well as taps and anywhere he thought he’d end up touching that day. Once the bed sheets were clean, he put the pillows and blanket in the washer and started another cycle, then he proceeded to turn on his Scarlet Eyes, though he didn’t expect much.
The apartment was clear of any trail, as he’d guessed, but as he reached the room he’d broken in from, his gaze was immediately drawn to the window. There was his own trail, of course, red and gold, sharp and fresh, but there were also some going vertically in front of the window. He walked closer and peered outside. He could see trails all over the small compound, connecting, intersecting, meeting and separating again. And they all converged at the foot of the building, and from there, went directly up. He followed them up with his gaze, the trails a jumble of blurry colours, and saw that they went up to the roof.
He was pretty grubby by that point, but he still grabbed his keys and went outside to investigate. Even on the ground, there was no way he could see one could go up, unless whoever left these trails behind (he wasn’t assuming they were Kuruta anymore) had scaled the walls. Back inside, he went up the stairwell, trying to get to the roof, but around the 11th floor, the staircase had been smashed and destroyed, and there was no way for him to go up the last two floors when the walls were smooth and there was no grip anywhere that he could see. Even the rubble had been taken away. Whoever was up there, they didn’t want any surprise visitor.
Kurapica went back to his new apartment and cleaned out spoiled food from the pantry and fridge, and then realized that he didn’t know what people did about garbage disposal. Well, he could ask his friend when he met with them for dinner. He went and took a shower, the most glorious human invention he could think of as he luxuriated under the warm spray. He got out and dried himself quickly, then transferred the pillows and blanket to dryer and started a cycle. Only then did he take a much needed rest with a novel he’d found in one of the well-stocked bookcases in his new home.
Leorio came to collect him for dinner, announcing his presence with a sharp knock. He waved his condolences away with affected disinterest, but he did give him a slightly sad smile a moment later. He led him a few blocks from their buildings, giving Kurapica the guidelines for garbage and laundry, as they had to take turns so as not to overwhelm their slightly fragile grid. Kurapica apologized for doing it out of turn, but Leorio assured him it was fine, since he wasn’t aware of the guidelines just yet. The resources were spread thin, though there were perhaps a little over a hundred people living there. The guidelines were simply there to make sure no one wanted for anything.
Two blocks from their apartment building, Leorio guided him into a school, where the cafeteria had been deemed the perfect place for the small community to get their meals. Kurapica soon found himself seated at a long table with a warm meal before him and his new acquaintances all around him. Quite a few people were eating all around them, and there were many a curious glances sent their way.
Dinner was generally pleasant, but after such a long time spent alone, Kurapica felt slightly overwhelmed. In quarantine, there had been a level of separation between himself and his new acquaintances, but like this, with Leorio quite tactile, clapping his shoulder or poking his arm, it was a little much.
He’d mostly finished his meal, when a hush fell over what had been quite boisterous cafeteria. He lifted his head and followed the gaze of his companions, but at first, he couldn’t find what they were all looking at. He was about to ask what was happening, when movement between the tables finally drew his attention.
There was a very short figure heading their way, dressed in black from head to toe. Kurapica wasn’t very tall himself, but this person seemed to be closer to Killua’s height. It winded between the tables and making its way to where Kurapica was sitting. As it drew closer and closer, apprehension crept up Kurapica’s spine, the same sort of revulsion that had filled him when he’d been in the presence of the Spider Head. Soon, the blond could see that it was a short man with black hair, a handkerchief tied around his neck like an old time highwayman.
“You,” he said, pointing straight at Kurapica, “you’ll come with me.” His speech was clear but oddly lilting with an accent the blond couldn’t place.
“Why are the Spiders interested in Kurapica?” Leorio asked. He looked tense, and his reaction made Kurapica glance at him.
“Dancho wants to see him,” the short man replied, then, to Kurapica, “Come with me.”
The Kuruta slowly got to his feet. He glanced at the people around the table. They all looked tense and uncomfortable. Perhaps they all felt the same discomfort he felt around these people. This was the second Spider he met, and Kurapica couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps all of them gave off this overwhelming feeling of wrongness.
The young man looked Kurapica up and down, then turned away, somewhat dismissively, and started back across the cafeteria. With one last look at his new friends, Kurapica went after him.