A/N So this summer I have become a huge fan of Togashi's other manga: Hunter x Hunter. This is my first piece for this fandom, and if you like it, hit me up with a review, and I'll write the next chapter for which I have a tentative plan. As always, views and reviews are much appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

"Can't sleep?"

The blond craned his head to get a better look at the younger boy who reclined on his makeshift bed, still very much awake despite the supposed late hour. It was hard to tell in a room with no windows if it was really late or not.

Killua shook his head. "No, it isn't that. I can keep myself awake for three or four days straight, no problem."

Kurapika blinked at this information. It turned out this young boy was just full of frightful surprises. Well, Kurapika thought wryly, being able to go many days without sleep will certainly be useful in this situation. For the five of them were currently trapped in a small room deep within Trick Tower for fifty hours as a penalty for Leorio's gambling shortcomings.

"The training you went through must have been both intense and extraneous to imbue you with such strength." He was thinking not only of his ability to stave off sleep deprivation but of his surgical precision in the removing of his opponent's heart not ten hours ago.

Killua merely laughed that statement off. The casual way he regarded his skill and the tortures he must have suffered to hone it was unnerving to the blond Kurata. "I bet you could use skills like these for your revenge plot."

Kurapika licked his dry lips nervously at this. "What do you know of the Spiders?"

Kurapika could just barely make out the form of Killua shrugging in the darkness. "Honestly, not much. You probably already know everything I could tell you. Though…my father received a contract to kill one of their numbers once…I remember all he did was complain about it. Apparently, it was one of the most difficult hit's he'd ever received…and my dad is the best assassin out there. Even other assassins hire him for jobs they're not sure than can complete. Don't take this personally, but I've seen you fight, and you're strong and all, but…"

"…But not strong enough." Kurapika finished for him. He knew as much. He'd hoped to become a blacklist hunter and catch some petty criminals at first then work his way up to the A class bounties. Though, even if he did that, if he were being honest with himself, he did not intend to live through this struggle. The old adage says that he who seeks revenge should dig two graves. In his case, he would be digging fourteen…one for each of the thirteen Spiders, and one for himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he barely saw his form as Killua sat up and leveled a searching gaze upon him as if he were sizing him up, assessing his abilities. The stare was oddly invasive, and Kurapika felt the juvenile impulse to blush.

"Do you think you are up to it?" Killua whispered after a thorough evaluation of Kurapika's reclining form.

"Up to it?" the Kurata asked, though he knew exactly what the youth had meant.

"You said yourself you've never killed before. What you're talking about doing is mass murder. Thirteen murders to be exact. That's a pretty ambitious goal for someone whose hands are clean of blood…"

Kurapika looked away from the young Zoldyck. It was an ethical conflict that he had been struggling with for years now. It was not a question of wavering conviction but of a nagging conscious. He was no less devoted to his vengeance, yet the thirst for revenge alone could not drown his moral fiber.

"It isn't about whether or not I can do this…I must. For the sake of my clan, I must…"

Killua regarded him in the darkness with strangely reflective eyes. They were cat-like eyes, sharp and unnerving.

"You don't have a choice?" There was a note of some indistinguishable emotion in his voice that Kurapika could not identify.

Kurapika pondered his companion's words. Do I have a choice? With a pang, he remembered is father's words, so long ago. Everyone always has a choice, Kurapika. It's those choices that define who we are…Was this his choice? No, this was necessity. His people cried out for vengeance. Their souls could not rest in peace until their eyes were collected, their whole bodies laid to rest, and their deaths avenged. As the last surviving member of the Kurata clan it was his duty…his sole purpose of existence to give their soul's peace.

"No. So long as I can hear my clansmen crying out in my head for justice, I must seek retribution for their needless massacre."

"I don't think it's justice you're after…"

Kurapika blinked rapidly at the silver haired boy. It wasn't as if the thought had never occurred to him, but to have it sprung on him like that…There was a fine line between justice and vengeance. Surely it was better these murderous thieves rot in a cell than hurt anyone ever again. A noble cause like that was justice, was it not?

"They are thieves…criminals…murderers; they do not deserve to walk free."

"Who are you to act as judge, jury, and…executioner?"

Again, the young Kurata found himself speechless in the face of such insightful inquiries. But he did have that right! They had taken everything away from him his people, his family, his friends, his best friend…

"No one else is brave enough to stop them; it falls to me. No one will ever again suffer as I have by their hands …"

Killua snorted skeptically at this pronouncement. "Well, you're right about one thing: you will suffer…"

Kurapika narrowed his eyes at the smug assassin. "You do not know what you are talking about, Killua."

No one understood his plight. He was driven to do this, must do this, not for himself, but for his people.

As if the young Zoldyck had read his mind, he replied, "Looks like we both are trapped by our family…"

Kurapika looked away from the white haired boy and frowned. Was what he said true? Was this not what he desired? Was he simply doing this for his brethren? Would it be better for him to give this quest up? Live the life his clansmen could not?

Before he could continue his inner monologue of self examination, Killua continued. "You know this quest for revenge deal…may end up killing you."

I do not fear death. I fear only that over time my rage will fade away…

His own words echoed in his head like a macabre mantra. If this ordeal claimed the life of the last Kurata tribesman then so be it. It would be a fitting end.

"My death is the least of my concerns…"

"The Phantom Troupe murdered all of your people but you. Are you trying to help them finish the job?"

Kurapika gave the blunt boy his best glare. "And that is none of your concern."

"Well, I thought you'd say that." His reply had a hint of snideness in it, but then he looked the Kurata boy straight in the eyes, unafraid, as he said the rest. "I don't know if this ever occurred to you, but…if you kill them all you'll be no better than they are. I don't think you are a murderer. That's something you're born into and you just…weren't."

Leorio's words to him suddenly resounded in his head in this time. I thought that was exactly the type of hunter you despise the most…? You're ready to sell your soul and lose your dignity?

His reply had been: What is my dignity…in comparison with the pain of my companions?

"That doesn't matter. All that matters is that the Phantom Troupe is caged"

"Or dead."

Kurapika nodded solemnly, steel in his eyes. He would do what needed to be done. Whatever that may be…