revenge alone
Kurapika.
It is the greatest form of solace in his eyes, the supreme retribution for his tribesmen. The cerulean blue has been overcome with the scarlet—pacifism is lost, replaced by wrath. Wave by wave he drank and drowned, until he was full and occupied, until there were no more rooms for anything else.
At first, it is the only thing he has. Until a surrogate comfort, a distraction came with smiles and challenges: with fishing rods and hunter exams.
Gon, Killua, Leorio. Somehow they were all glued together, in disarrayed proportions.
Friendship is like morphine—not to pain, but to the memories, the scarlet.
Alas, it is not the cure. The lost blood of the Kuruta will never be replaced by morsel and laughs.
Revenge alone will suffice. Blood for blood, rage for rage.
Because in the end, it is the only thing Kurapika has left.