Six

"So where is the second to last place you were at?" Senritsu said, once the awkward tension in the air around them had finally cleared. They were, several uncomfortable minutes of silence later, still sitting on her living room couch drinking lukewarm tea. Well, not really drinking just periodically lifting the near-empty the cup to her mouth and pretending to take a sip.

"No idea," he said. "Barring any where obvious like a car."

"Funny." But she wasn't grinning. "I wish I could get a second look at that letter or at least I should've been smart enough take a picture of it. I don't know if we're supposed to be looking at this literally, figuratively...or…somewhere in between." The letter hadn't really made much sense either. Did Tomin really write that letter? How did she know Kurapika lost his memory?

She sat her cup on the coffee table and folded her hands onto her lap. She tugged on the end of her long-sleeved sweater over her wrists. "There's something a bit ironic about asking a guy with amnesia to visit the last eleven places he's been at…but the chapel must be connected somehow. I think maybe you went there with Tomin."

"It's thirteen." He scratched the side of his head. "Probably. I don't know."

She nodded, but why is the air so stale? Like it was suffocating suddenly and she was struggling to catch her breath. Kurapika seemed to feel it to, for his heart rate was steadily increasing. Maybe I'm just imagining things. But lately she had been feeling unwell in general. And it was hard to pinpoint what exactly she was feeling or why.

"Do you have any theories? Even if it's a wild one," she said. Nothing was coming to her mind.

"Not…really."

She inhaled sharply. "Do you want to take a nap? You seem pretty tired."

The look her gave her said what. He was still probably suspicious of her, and had only come this far with her maybe out of some subconscious remembrance of their relationship together.

"Hold on one second." She got up and retrieved her phone from the kitchen, which had been charging. They didn't really have many any pictures together, and the ones they did have together were usually taken by mistake when she had been trying to take a picture of something else. But she did have one picture of him, which she presented as proof that they really had known each other. It was one where they'd been at the cafe, after they'd found a pair of the Eyes together. Kurapika had been in a good mood and she'd wanted to document the occasion, so she'd snap a picture while he was looking out the window. He had a slight smile on his face and he'd been wearing a suit then too.

"I know you probably don't trust me, and yes my behavior is pretty strange, but it's only because we were very good friends," she said. "We worked together for a long time. And you can ask me anything about yourself and I can probably answer it."

A thoughtful expression crossed his face for a second, and he leaned back into the couch pillows. "Strangely enough, I'm not really curious about anything. I believe you when you say you know me."

She sat back on the couch. Thank Goodness for she had no idea how she would actually answer anything about him. A few cliché platitudes came to mind, but that would hardly do him any good.

"You're a perpetually stressed out young man with ties to the mafia and a troubled past," she replied. "If that jogs your memory."

He wrinkled his nose. "Sounds a bit cliché," he replied evenly.

"Well, your life is a bit cliché frankly, but so is mine."

"Fair enough."

"So, a nap? Hear me out, you are smart and you can figure this out, but you look like Frankenstein's monster right now and you're just talking weirdly, so I think a nap will do your mind some good," she said. And she did believe those words.

"I don't think I can fall asleep right now," he replied.

Giving him a grin, she produced her flute from underneath her shirt. When she had been disfigured, she always wore coats which concealed the object. But now that she had taken to wearing normal pants, shirts that fit, and sometimes even less clothing. She usually hid her flute in under baggy sweaters in a small, pocket or beneath fluffy shirts. Bust mostly baggy sweaters. "Lay down. I'll put you to sleep." She hopped to her feet, went to her bedroom and got a blanket. Tossing it on over his head before he could protest, she turned the lights off, then sat on the loveseat across from the couch and played.

Only once had she ever used her flute to put Kurapika to sleep and it worked only because he's actually wanted to fall asleep. Now, with no Nen to guard him, his eyelids drooped after a few minutes and soon he was sound asleep. Tucking him under the covers, she figured he would be out for a couple of hours, which gave her enough time to do what really needed to be done.

One thing that had sort of crossed her mind already was how useless Kurapika was going to be without his Nen if they got into any trouble. And that thought had come to her in the nicest way possible, but it was true nonetheless. Thus far, she hadn't even caught site of his chain anywhere on him.

And that was a problem, because Senritsu mostly relied on him to do everything requiring brute strength, being not necessarily more skilled than her, but having Nen abilities that were more practical and readily available in most situations. He also had far more fighting experience than she did, which had come in handy several times in the past.

Now, she stood in front of the chapel. The police had clearly been here and swept through most of the place. There was yellow tape around it, but there were no cop cars around, no people, nothing.

I wonder if Father Ariale had any family…or friends...

The doors to the chapel were locked tightly, so she kicked them down. Likely, her DNA was already here being that she had visited when she first found Kurapika and again when she found everyone dead, so she wasn't worried about concealing her tracks. Still, she pulled a second glove over her good hand as an extra safety precaution.

With Kurapika, she couldn't fully explore what she wanted in the chapel without having him slow her down. But alone, in the darkness, she could move quickly and return without him every noticing she was gone.

First, the basement. The blood had been cleaned up off the walls and using Gyo revealed nothing out of the ordinary, so she carefully went through the hallways, studying the walls as she walked, and into the sanctuary. The chapel was rather small, containing a single hall that led from the front doors to the sanctuary and basement. The rows of pews still stood there, this time empty. The altar had an array of plants decorating it, and while she hadn't gotten a good look at it the first time, now she was able to see what was hidden behind them.

Kurapika has been busy then…a frown crossed her face as she moved a pot of mint or something to the floor. Wonder why the police didn't move any of this stuff? Did they not see it was here?

About five pairs of the Scarlet Eyes sat on a shelf behind the plants, neatly lined up and encased in glass jars.