WARNING - graphic mentions of blood and violence. read at your own caution. slight senritsu x basho pairing if you squint, as well as merumugi and platonic allugon.
his home is found in grasslands and forests and mud walls as the years wear on. as they become frayed and torn like the memories of his old life. but suddenly, that life is something he yearns for when tragedy strikes - but now, he does not have to mourn alone. royalty au.
When he spears his first fish, Kurapika throws up in a bush a few feet away.
The second time, he only manages a whimper.
He does not wish to kill for his lunch - his hands are more inclined to fragile book's bodies, carefully cradling the curves of their spines as he swallows their words, the stories they bleed. They are more attuned to the strings of harpsichord's and violin teeth. He does not kill for his food; but that was a lifetime ago and here, the rivers run free with fish for this small village to eat. Here, he is no prince.
Once, Nemo nudges him, and for all her brittle annoyance at the young once-royal, she smiles apologetically. I don't like this either. "Hey," and she lowers herself beside him, and he wonders how she moves like a piece of music in a quiet forest as she takes his hand and folds it properly over the spine of the spear, "you need to do this to guarantee Netero-sama's trust. "
Netero-sama. The name turns Kurapika's mouth slightly dry with worry. The man is old, but made of sharp things - viper tongue and poisonous blood that reminds him more of a rose's thorns that anything human. He is the only elder that wears no mask of an animal, but a small golden pendant of a crying lady with a hundred arms swings from his throat, disappearing into the numerous (stolen) robes he wears. His hair is long, scrambled into a single white puff of a ponytail at the crown of his head with thick eyebrows that hang down the sides of his face like pendulum's, with a long, curving beard to match. He seems frail, old and weak by age, but beneath his numerous robes is toned muscle.
And there's something. Something not quite of this world that surrounds him, that makes him seem even more dangerous, like he lives in a candle and will never be burnt.
When he'd first met Netero-sama, he'd almost been cast out. On his knees, the elder man had stood over him, spat words such as "weak," "small" and "what use do we have of a would've-been royal, butterfly?"
And Kurapika says nothing, only presses his head further into the dirt of the mud-hut, the smell of dandelions growing in his throat. But, suddenly, there's a sound. Nemo stands, the butterfly in a room of predators called the Zodiac, and squares her shoulders. It's something he hadn't expected, as rebellion curled frost in her mouth, fighting for the Kurta's stay. And at the end, when her voice becomes ellipsis, Netero promises the blond's stay only on the guarantee he prove himself. To learn the way of hunters and then, eventually, become one.
Being of royal blood and of hands that always gave without restrictions, he finds anger in his veins. This was not what he wanted - he wanted castle walls, the laughter of his people, his mother's hands. Not to live between the tree's teeth, the animals howling to the bloated moon ringing in his ears each night.
However, before he could fight, Netero seemed to zero in on his shaking form, and consequently, pressed his foot into the splayed knuckles, crushing the bones slightly, saying, "do you wish to live, boy?"
Now, he flexes his bandaged hand and continues fishing, with Nemo's pleased smile as he continues the stance she'd helped him create. Gon arrives, food in a basket and shares it all willingly with Alluka & Nanika threading flowers into chains behind him. Their small fingers, chubby from age, expertly weave orchids and cherry blossom into a crown that Kurapika would think fit for a king. The child crawls into Nemo's lap, depositing the flower crown over the arched ridges of her butterfly mask and giggles happily when the elder tickles her.
And he feels more than grateful, when Alluka & Nanika places one on his own head as well. He finds he enjoys this crown far more than his previous, though the weight remains the same. Expectancy, molded in either metal or plant, still weighs the same.
Over the years, he begins to integrate into this life of the hunters. He still does not gain Netero-sama's trust, but he finds it in others. In Senritsu, the mask of a mouse and voice that searches for something to sing in the midnight celebrations. In Basho, a man with a bear mask and hair to match the density of the fur on his chest, who sweeps up Senritsu like the stars have aligned in his eyes for her. He finds it in others too, others he wouldn't have met if he'd been a prince - in Zushi, Bisky, a child called Woble, a disgraced Chimera ant, a blind girl called Komugi with a kind penchant for fallen kings. He often finds the latter with Meruem, another fallen king, who tries not to smile when she winds her arms around him and offers yet another match of Gungi to fill their compatible silence.
The hunters nights are filled with laughter, of dancing around the crackling tongue of fire and more often than not, he's been swept up into this ritual of thrumming bodies, of lives undisturbed by fear and anger. It makes him realize - he had thought his kingdom was pure, was full of hope, but now he has truly seen pure.
He see's it when Gon grasps Alluka & Nanika's hands and teaches them to dance on his toes, when Killua lets Bisky throw him around the bonfire and laughs when they trip. When Leorio bangs a drum out of time and no one scolds him. When Nemo grabs his hand and tugs him into the dance, saying he belongs to the shadows with them all. Her voice feels like a tidal wave, something that pushes him closer to home than he's felt like in years.
It is a feeling he falls in love with, long before he falls in love with the butterfly.
There are nights he cherishes with her, the girl who'd brought him into this world of family. When she points out stars on their breaks from training him, when she teaches him of the best ways to heal a wound. How she prays and thanks the animals for their gift of life when she hunts. She tends the earth back into itself for everything she does, and he can only stare in amazement at this constellation of good things. To Kurapika, a prince that always had the best of everything, the butterfly seems like something he should not hold in his hands, should not be allowed too because she is far too good.
Of course, if he ever voiced this concern, she'd smack him.
But this feeling cannot last.
It is five years from the Kurta clan's massacre when it happens, and he is different. He no longer wears his robes, but pieces of the forest. Grass in his hair, mud scraped across his chest, he can feel his eyes burn when he looks into the man's eyes as he holds a child by their throat, as their legs begin to dangle motionlessly. His grip tightens on the chains he has grown to use to protect those he loves.
The magician clicks his tongue. "A kurta?"
"The last. Let the child live. I will be your opponent, magician."
His smile turns wicked. "Such potential." And when Kurapika returns, a bloodied arm and bruised face with chains rusted and half broken, child cradled in his arms, he finds that the rest of the village had not been spared. The magician - Hisoka, his name had been - had been part of the same troupe his family had been slain by. And he collapses, weary and hurt and wakes to find Nemo winding a bandage around his arm and his chest bare with ragged cuts over the torso. Her face, finally without the butterfly mask on, is streaked with red, and immediately, the butterfly throws herself at his chest.
"I thought you dead, Kurapika!"
"Then it is a good surprise I am not, correct?"
"I know you're smiling and it's not funny, you little rat," and he laughs at the purple-haired woman, and watches her eyes. How they turn a pale blue in the sunlight and freckles touch over her nose, looking like stars in a bursting constellation in the sky. She smiles slightly, still red-eyed, still scared he's not actually there and he brushes her hair back, fingers lingering far too long for this to be considered friendship any longer.
He's still looking at her when Leorio bursts through the hut door, and laughs loudly at the scene, turning both teenagers red. And he gets to work, gentle hands around the Kurta's wrist as he surveys the damage the clown had wrought. And by the end of his analysis, he delivers a message. "Netero-sama wishes to see you."
And he's suddenly breathless.
When he is in Netero-sama's presence - the whole village is watching, hands clasped, eyes horrified from the brutality of the nights before. And Netero explains, that the troupe was here because of him, looking for the final pair of eyes to place on a pedestal. He concludes that because of this, because he is a fallen prince, their small village is in constant danger.
But Kurapika; he has learnt. He has grown between vines and mud and has learnt how to grow things in them. He prays for animals when they give their lives for his meals, threads dandelions and weaves them through the ebony tendrils of Alluka & Nanika's hair, lets Killua spar him and win. He knows the ways of hunters because he has become one.
So he stands, squares his shoulders and looks Netero-sama in the eye. But his interest is not the elder of the Hunter's, but the hunter's themselves. He turns, and sounds more like his father than he ever thought he would without a crown on his head.
"I apologize," he says immediately, and spreads his arms, a white flag once again but this time, it is not just to the butterfly, "that my presence has harmed your existence. I thought them to think all my clansmen dead, including myself. But unfortunately, you learnt that my way of thinking was wrong. And it was in the worst way possible, so again, I apologize."
He breaths, becomes a king in his own right. Finally.
"But, they have wronged you. And I believe that vengeance, for the fallen, for the wounded and hurt, should be taken. You are gentle, but I have seen you hard. And when you are like this, none can stop you. So please, I ask of you all," and his head lifts, something like the wind in his mouth as he speaks and locks his eyes to Nemo's whose hands are clasped beneath her mouth, "will you mourn in silence, or will you mourn in victory?"
A resounding roar reaches the would-be prince, and Gon topples him over in a hug, followed by Killua and Alluka & Nanika, and Leorio scoops all four into his arms with a booming laugh. Senritsu grins from where she holds Basho's hand, Komugi squeaks from where Meruem cradles her and Zushi tugs excitedly on Wing-san's shirt, itching to test out his new moves. When he is put down, Nemo barrels into his chest, butterfly mask hanging around her neck as she laughs into his throat.
At the chorus of agreeing voices, the Kurta turns to Netero, still paused on his knees before he exchanges a look with the Zodiacs. Reaches behind him and grasps something long, with pointed ears and a long snout. Beady eyes stare at him from the mask face.
"If you had let me finish, boy," he says, and immediately, Kurapika can feel his ears turn red, "because you are a fallen prince, our village is in constant danger. But you protected one of our own, with nothing but the chains you had not yet learnt to use and a bravery I have not seen often. We are in constant danger, because you are not yet one of us. But with that, I am glad and proud to say - welcome home, Rat of the Zodiac."
He supposes it is either a playful joke from the whimsical Elder, or that the only space they had left was the one from Ging, but still, he accepts the mask, slips it on his features and even with wounds scored across his body, throws his hands up high when the villagers of the Hunter's descend into happy screeching for a new comrade. Nemo's arms wind around him and he spins her, finally part of their home.
And then, they go to war. They stalk towards the Lucilfer Dynasty's castle - Castle of the Kurta, home of his childhood - and tear through, rip this world of black spiders to shreds. It reminds him far too much of the years before all this, how he'd watched Pairo's life leave his eyes, his father's hand stop twitching. But this - this is for an entirely different reason.
And when he meets the head of the wretched spider's, he does not remove his mask. Does not give him the gratification of seeing the face, the red eyes, that steals his own comrade's lives, his twelve generals (Uvogin, then Pakunoda. Shalnark and Kortopi fall by the magician's hand however), that steals his own nen even when he produces his famous book. He does not kill him; he knows his mother and father would be disappointed and he does not have time to pray in thanks for the giving of this creatures life. But he wounds him, exponentially. A scar here. A lost arm there. And when they are finished, when the Kurtan home falls silent and Chrollo stares up from the ground, fingers curled into a bloody boulder and clothes shredded from the nen and fists that had been displayed, he smiles.
He spits blood. "I remember you, little one."
No you don't, he wants to say, but he sighs. Lets loose some rage as he throws his foot into his jaw, hears the crack of teeth against each other in the silence. As Chrollo spins, and stops, he says, "I am not so little anymore. Leave my home."
The spider does, heads towards the east among canyons and doesn't ask for his comrade's last words in this lifetime. And Kurapika collapses between his parent's old thrones, swipes the dust from them and remembers this is where he'd sit at ball times when he was tired. His mother would pat his head and his father would watch her with a smile on his mouth.
He leans against one, and sleeps, remembering the feel of piano fingers in his hair.
When he wakes, they clean. Rids his - their - home of dust and dirt and blood and the spider's remnants. He guides his new clan, his family of blood-not-his to the tombstones where he'd buried them after the spiders had discarded their bodies. Around them, grow weeds. He has not been home for a long time.
And it is with realization, as he watches Leorio scrub the blood from the grounds, as Gon jumps high into the rafters to rid it of hidden treasure, as Killua powers the castle with something he calls 'electricity' and Alluka & Nanika grow wildflowers in his old garden; he is a king again. It is with realization, as the Hunter's build their homes around his old one, as Netero teaches young children to fight, as Melody blows into a flute at midnight celebrations, as Bisky talks of Islands full of Greed long ago, as Woble learns to walk on his family's homeland with his mother finally laughing again, that he will enjoy this life more than the previous.
Again, and this time startling, as he watches Nemo clip away the weeds from around his parent's tombstones with gentle hands, he realizes that the Court of Hunters would not go much longer without a Queen.