AN: Thanks to anyone who left a review! Also, I am sorry for not updating more regularly lol. I've been super sick Also, let me just apologize now for the grammar errors.


Twenty-Nine

Kurapika stared at the chain, trying to will it to fall off with his mind. It also gave him something to focus on for the time being…why are we still stuck together? While he couldn't remember exactly what the riddler had said about separating, he was certain Kuroro's memories returning meant the chains should fall off.

"Do you remember all of your memories?" Kurapika asked, still staring at his wrist. Fall off…fall off. Come on, damn it. "If that makes any sense."

"Sort of," Kuroro replied. "I know who I am, I know who you are, but I don't know how I lost my memories. And I'm not sure where my memories begin."

"What does that mean?" Kurapika said, still unable to lift up his gaze.

"I don't know," Kuroro replied. "Maybe I don't know who I am."

"What?" Kurapika wrinkled his nose and risked a glance up at him. However, the Spider wasn't looking at him, but towards the small window across the room.

"Nothing."

His attention back on his wrist, he spent a minute swallowing air. Something like awkwardness crept into the room. Slowly at first, but it grew stronger with each passing second.

It had been bearable, and at times even pleasant if Kurapika were being fully honest with himself, to be with a Kuroro who was both oblivious to what he was and to their history with one another. And now that he wasn't, it seemed there was no way to ignore how uncomfortable Kurapika felt around him. Almost more disconcerting, Kurapika couldn't gauge Kuroro's feelings any longer, because is face was a mask. If the man was feeling any discomfort, it wasn't showing.

"Why are we still stuck together?" Kuroro said.

"I'm guessing you have to remember why you lost your memory," Kurapika said. He blew air out of his mouth and looked down at the bedding. "…We're still going to Meteor City then." Great. Just great.

"There some reason you're not looking at me?"

Kurapika peered up at him, locking eyes with Kuroro's dark gaze. "No."

"You sure?"

"Stop staring at me," Kurapika said, scooting to the edge of the bed. "This doesn't change anything between us."

"I'm not the one acting odd." Excuse me?"

"Forget it. Are you still hungry?"

"Why?"

"Stop being paranoid," he replied, pointing to the fallen bag of food. "I'm hungry and you were about to make ramen."

"Oh...right." He retrieved the bag of food and extracted the ramen, swinging his legs over the bed. He peeled the top partially off the ramen and went over to the microwave, opening the door.

"Are you going to put water in that?" Kuroro said just over his shoulder.

Sink. To his right was the sink. He turned on the faucet.

Kuroro sighed behind him.

"What?" Kurapika filled the container up with water up to the line and then turned the sink off. "Where else am I supposed to get water?"

"I didn't say anything," Kuroro said.

He pulled the microwave door open with more force than was necessary. He placed the food inside and shut the door, jerking the chain towards him. The chain jingled annoyingly.

Kuroro pulled the chain back, making it taut between them. Kurapika went to pull back but Kuroro grabbed his wrist.

"Look," Kuroro said, leaning towards him. "You hate me and with good reason. Consequently, I'm going to act as much like the person you've gotten to know over the last few weeks as humanly possible. But you have got to relax. Because we are still stuck together and we are going to be stuck together until we die, unless we work together to get these off."

Kurapika ground his teeth together, leaning back until his head hit the wall by the microwave. "I'm relaxed." He pulled away, but Kuroro's grip tightened slightly. "Okay, fine. Let go of me before I knock you out."

Kuroro dropped his wrist and stepped back.

Kurapika hit the four on the microwave. "I don't hate you. I just…strongly dislike you." Which was more or less true, even if he was still somewhat in denial about it. Then he unbuttoned the top buttons off his suit. "It's really hot in here."

"You're going to have to cut it off," Kuroro said, motioning to the shirt.

"It's a suit," Kurapika said. "And this wasn't cheap. Can't you pull the threads out?"

"I hope you're kidding," Kuroro replied, shooting him a look. He opened up a random drawer in the kitchenette and produced a pair of scissors. "Or shower in your clothes."

"I don't mind showering in my clothes. I've done it plenty of times already." But this was a suit, not jeans and a , somewhat bregrudgingly Kurapika took off the jacket, sliding it to the chain. Kuroro cut it and let it fall to the floor. Kurapika flinched.

"I'll get you another one," Kuroro said. "Unbutton your shirt."

The microwave beeped as Kurapika finished unbuttoning his shirt. He slid it to the cuffs and Kuroro cut that off at well. He gathered up the clothes and tossed them in a small waste bin nearby. Then he opened the microwave.

"Stop staring at me."

"Alright." Kuroro set the scissors on the counter. He already had the other package of ramen, which he ripped open and filled with water before putting it into the microwave.

"How are you going to buy me another suit?" Kurapika said, folding his arms over his chest. Do I have a shirt I can put on? How would I even get it on at this point.

"I'm the leader of the Ryodan," Kuroro said, flashing him a toothy grin. "I'm rich."

"With stolen money."

"I don't steal money. I steal things and sell them…normally," Kuroro said. "Sometimes, I obtain them through legal means as well."

Kurapika scoffed.

"I will buy you a suit," Kuroro said, shaking his head. "You can take it, or leave it."

"How about you buy me some chopsticks first?" Kurapika said, staring at his ramen. He'd forgotten to get utensils. "And a shirt."

"I'll buy you a shirt, but I don't know how you're going to get it on."


"I can drive," Kuroro said. He was standing by the passenger's seat of the truck, which we stole, wearing a slight scowl.

"But do you have your license?" Kurapika asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Get in the truck." Kuroro opened up the door and pointed.

Kurapika shot him a look, but decided against arguing any further. It wasn't as easy to do so, now that this is actually Kuroro Lucilfer. He climbed into the passenger's side and sat down, absentmindedly rubbing his wrist. The chain seemed to have increased in length, resembling how it was when they had first come together, which he took to be a good sign.

Kuroro sat in the driver's seat and started the engine, backing out of the motel's parking lot.

"So we're going to Meteor City," Kurapika said. He was still shirtless, though Kuroro had given him a jacket to drape over his shoulders. And the two of them made a sight, considering Kuroro's own shirt had been ripped off to stop his bleeding.

"Looks like it," he said. "The riddler will probably follow us wherever we go."

"You think that guy on the plane was him?"

"I do…but..." Kuroro dark eyebrows came together as he gripped the steering wheel.

Yeah. Kurapika felt the same way. Not that he had been under the assumption the riddler was human, but still it's strange. The chain didn't seem to hold any strong Nen, or any at all really, and should have been broken by a decent pair of pliers. Nor had he sensed anything from that man. Yet, here they were. Still together.

He sunk down into his seat and pressed his face against the window, letting the cool glass ease his tension.

"Are you going to put your seat belt on?" Kuroro asked.

"Seriously?" Kurapika said.

"You would yelled at me for not wearing mine."

Kurapika reached over and snapped his on. "I need a shirt."

"Alright. I'll stop somewhere and you can get one. But I'm not kidding. I'm not going to sew anything onto you."

Kurapika blew air out of his mouth.

Kuroro slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. Cars whizzed by them as the taller man turned towards him.

"Things are awkward between us now, because we're too familiar with the other to maintain the feelings we formerly had for one another, even if they were one-sided," Kuroro said. "I've watched you pee. Not even friends can boast that level of intimacy."

Kurapika grimaced.

"But you have got to relax, because I'm seriously contemplating ways to drug you until we get to Meteor City. And that would piss you off. And it would also piss me off, because I'd have to carry you around everywhere and explain to everyone why I'm carrying you around." Kuroro put his hands on the steering wheel and faced the front. "So take a deep breath, close your eyes, and take a nap or something."

"I'm not tired," he lied. Actually, he was exhausted.

"Just stop bickering and take a nap."

He sighed, but then he did close his eyes. The truck hummed and vibrated, lulling him to a more relaxed state of mind. And his mind began to wander. Not to anything in particular. Sleeping next to his worst enemy should've put him on edge, and while he didn't feel comfortable, that wasn't because of Kuroro, but himself. It unsettled him that Kuroro didn't actually make him feel that uncomfortable.

Get it together, Kurapika.

What would he do when the chains were finally off? The likely answer is nothing. I will probably do nothing. But the thought itself was exhausting him. So he let himself drift off to sleep for a while, awakening when the truck came to a stop at a light. He did feel considerably better, even if he still didn't have a shirt. And outside the sky was dark. His stomach growled as he tried to think of something to talk about.

"So you remember that book Jasper had," Kurapika said. "I think his name was Jasper at least."

"My Skill Hunter book?"

"That was fake, right?"

"Yeah." Kuroro conjured up the real one and set it on the dashboard. "Still can't figure out why someone made it. A fake is pretty much useless."

"That is weird." I can't believe he really brought that thing out. Kurapika peered at it curiously. I wonder what exactly his Nen ability is...he probably wouldn't tell me even if I asked.

"However, I can teleport us places now." Kuroro turned to him and grinned. "No having to break in or sneak around."

"Yeah." But he frowned as something else came to mind. "What did you mean by one-sided earlier?"

"What?" Kuroro glanced over at him, before returning his attention to the road.

"Something about our former feelings being one-sided." He turned and gazed out the window. They were pulling into a parking lot, in front of a small store.

"I know you hated me, or still hate me, but I never hated you."

His frowned deepened. He reached over and turned the air on low. "How is that?"

Kuroro shrugged. "For a while I was hoping you would join the Spider."

"I'd rather die."

"I'm well aware."

His frown deepened. He balled his hand into a fist and began tapping his thigh. "How did you not hate me though? I killed two of your…friends or whatever they were."

"They were friends," Kuroro said, his face a blank canvas. His fingers hung lazily over the edges of the steering wheel. "And I really don't know. I just never did. I find...feelings like that unproductive."

Well that doesn't make sense. But he didn't get the impression Kuroro was lying. And he didn't want to think about it anyway. Or talk about it. "So are we driving to Meteor City or walking?" he asked.

"We're flying," he said. "But not commercial. I'm going to get money, get a phone, then call someone who can take us there."

The store outside was brightly lit up. "Where are we?"

"The Convenience Store." Kuroro pulled up closer to the front of the building, where a sign at the top said The Convenience Store. "Come on."

"I don't have a shirt," Kurapika said.

"You have my coat?"

Kurapika turned his head away from him

"I'm not being sarcastic," Kuroro said. "I don't have a shirt either."

"Just shut-up."

Kuroro took the keys out of the ignition. "Of the two of us, you look infinitely better without a shirt. Relax."

Kurapika gave him a look. "Not really." He climbed over the driver's sea, his feet hitting the ground. Pulling the coat over his shoulders, he tried to swallow his growing ire. Really, there was no reason to be annoyed. He'd be more annoyed still trapped in the suit, hot and sweaty.

They went into the convenience store where Kuroro located an ATM. Kurapika considered asking how, with no identification or anything, he was going to get money out, but after hitting some buttons, the machine produced a stack of cash, which the taller man pocketed in his jeans.

"Are you still hungry?" Kuroro asked.

He shrugged. "Are you?"

"Kind of. I want coffee, but I don't want to be rude and not get you anything."

"You drink coffee?" Kurapika blinked. He couldn't think of a single instance where Kuroro had requested coffee, or even drunk it.

"I do," he replied. They shuffled over to the coffee machine. Kurapika noted the cashier's eyes staring at him suspiciously, what a sight we make. His face started to warm.

"So…coffee? Because once we get in the car, we're not stopping."

"No, I don't drink coffee," he said.

"Tea?"

"Yes, but I don't want anything except a shirt."

"Alright."

They went over and paid, getting heading back outside. Kurapika went into the passenger's seat. Kuroro borrowed his phone and made a few phone calls, before announcing that a friend of his would meet them in a city called Gabun about three hours away at a small airstrip and fly them out to Meteor City.

"Here." Kuroro threw a white t-shirt onto his lap.

Kurapika held it in front of his face. "Where did you get this from?"

Kuroro shrugged. He handed him a Styrofoam coffee cup. It was green tea.

Did he steal that while I wasn't paying attention? "Well, there's no way I can put this on in the car," Kurapika said, looking at the shirt. He placed the tea in the cup holder.

Kuroro just shook his head, but a slight smile started to creep on his lips. "You… really are something else," he said. "Fine. One we get to Meteor City, I will sew you shirt on for you on one condition."

"Which is?"

"You've got to relax."