A/N: Please enjoy Chapter 2!
Some days I feel everything
Others are numbing
Can never find the in between
It's all or nothing
I never never never said that I wanted
I never never never never said I wanted
Never wanted to be here now
One foot in the grave, other on the ground
I can't process what I'm feeling now
This skin I can do without
Song: Half- PVRIS
Kurapika had been on a trip when it happened. He flew out to YorkNew when he was only 13 for a spelling bee. The young boy had been top of his class, and the best speller in his entire school. He begged his parents for weeks to let him go to the biggest competition in the tri-state area; his best friend Pairo even put in a good word with Kurapika's parents to grant permission. The small blonde boy had set up everything from the train ride to the spelling bee accommodation all by himself so that his parents wouldn't have to stress or miss work.
The young adolescent had kissed his parents goodbye and set off to the big city all alone. When he arrived, he loved every second of it, having never seen a real city before. The lights were bright and colorful, the people were cool and fashionable, and the streets were lively and bustling. By the time his stay had ended he had explored, made friends, and even placed first in the spelling bee. He had called his parents' phone number 10 times that night to try to share the great news, only to hear nothing but rings and voicemails. It wasn't until the night before his train ride home that he saw the news on TV.
Lukso Province's Kurta Aboriginal Reservation Burnt to Pieces, Residents Massacred. Over 200 Casualties, No Survivors.
Little Kurapika had lost everything that night, and from that moment on, nothing had been the same. He'd called the police in a panicked sob from his accommodation and they had him explain his situation. The police were kind and understanding and promptly placed Kurapika into YorkNew's foster care system. That night, Kurapika's entire outlook on life had changed. He decided to give up every childhood dream he'd had, knowing that one day he'd join the YNPD. There was no other option in his mind.
Friday 8:15 PM, Thomasburg, Caitlyn, YN
Suit? Check. Wallet? Check. Weapons? Check. Belt Chain? Also Check.
Kurapika was running a mental checklist of all the things he needed for the evening. He'd chosen to wear one of his finer suits, the sleek black of the fabric accentuating his lithe, yet toned body. A thought occurred to him as he finished buttoning the cufflinks: he'd forgotten to put in his contacts. He went to the bathroom and switched on the light.
Standing in front of his bathroom mirror, he saw a pale figure reflected back at him. The eyes looked vacant, like pools of red void. The corners of the mouth turned slightly downward, lips tightly pushing together. The cheeks were ever so slightly sunken inwards, casting a shadow underneath them. He knew he was seeing his own face, yet somehow it had never felt so foreign, so distant.
Was he nervous for tonight? Perhaps, but he'd never thought of facing his enemy, or even killing someone, in terms of his own fear. The concept seemed to exist outside of him, as something larger than the man he'd grown to be. He only knew that it felt like the duty had been thrust upon him to follow through, as long as he could remember.
He put in his left contact, followed by his right, and watched as scarlet irises all but disappeared into brown. If you looked close enough in the right lighting, you'd just be able to see a tiny red ring circling his pupil where the contact ended. This ensured his vision was not hindered when his pupils expand and contract with various levels of light. Kurapika took one last look in the mirror, before switching out the lights and leaving his apartment.
Kurapika put his hand out to wave down the nearest taxi.
"Where ya goin, kid?"
"Take me to the Met, please." Kurapika hopped in the cab and closed the door. Part way through the trip, his phone began buzzing.
Leorio.
Kurapika dismissed the call, and it was soon followed by several shorter buzzes of text messages.
Are you still coming with me to pick up the boys? They get into KFJ at 11 tonight.
A few minutes passed.
…Kurapika?
Pika, I know you're there. It says 'Read'. Is everything okay?
Kurapika put his phone in his pocket, not wanting anymore distractions. He'd catch up with his friends later, but tonight he had more important things to worry about. They were passing over Caitlyn Bridge now, just a few minutes away from their destination.
Friday, 9:45 PM, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 5th Avenue
When they arrived Kurapika wasted no time pushing through the crowds of beautifully dressed people to buy his ticket. It was $800 per person, so only the true elites of YorkNew's upper east side were in attendance tonight. Kurapika coughed up the money without a second thought, for he knew tonight was not the night for frugality.
As he walked up the steps of the Met he brushed past frilly dresses, fancy tuxedos, and even some people he recognized as celebrities. Normally he would have done a double take, as celebrity sightings were rare, but he was far too focused on his goal tonight. He burst through the doors and immediately his senses were filled with the atmosphere of the party. Waitresses donning revealing dresses tried offering him some hors d'oeuvres and cocktails. The party had a live jazz band, and the sounds of saxophones and buzzing conversations filled his ears. Kurapika pushed forward, avoiding anyone that could get in his way. He had to get downstairs. His eyes scanned all corners of the room for access to the galleries, and landed on a spot where elevators to the other levels were located. The area with elevators was sectioned off, with several employees guarding it.
However, there was a marble staircase going downstairs in the left-hand corner of the room. Although it was also sectioned off, there was only one security guard over there, who was already surrounded by party-goers. If he could just wait till the guard was distracted and sneak around the dividers…
Bingo. He was in, quickly running down the steps and out of sight of the security guard.
He made it to the basement, which was actually quite dim. There was only a ring of what Kurapika might call night lights lining where the floor meets the wall. The result was barely light enough to see figures moving around, but not quite enough to make out a person's face from far away. Kurapika immediately picked out where the security cameras were and mapped out a route to avoid their field of vision as much as possible. He had to find room LL1-15, and didn't need security guards after him tonight.
Kurapika laid low as he made his way through the narrow hallway. LL1-10, LL1-11, LL1-12… He turned the corner. This hallway was a bit shorter, and filtered in to a larger room containing several large sculptures, making pillars and divisions throughout the space. He passed room 13, 14, and Kurapika guessed that room 15, chronologically, should exist right where that door was on the other side of the sculpture room. Right as he entered the room his guess was confirmed, because he could hear voices talking from the other end. Kurapika darted behind the cover of a sculpture as fast as he could and sunk to the floor, eavesdropping.
"Boss said to take everything that's got gold in it. Kortopi, switch out all the fakes you brought while Uvo and I get all this stuff to the car. Paku, you keep watch by the stairwell to the party." The voice sounded like a teenage boy. Kurapika dared peek his head around the corner, and just saw the outline of figures before he quickly turned back, eyes wide with shock and adrenaline.
Hisoka had not been bluffing.
The next few moments felt like a crushing eternity as he watched them pass by with their first haul. Kurapika held his breath and curled his body into a ball, hoping that his body was completely obscured by shadow. The first figure to pass must have been the member designated for lookout, as it was a blonde woman with short hair dressed in a pretty convincing security guard outfit. The next one to pass was extremely short with long silverish hair. Some observational part of Kurapika's brain noted that it was interesting that the Troupe had a dwarf member. The dwarf was followed by three guys, all carrying separate gold artifacts.
The footsteps carried down the hall, and Kurapika did not hear any subsequent footsteps. Kurapika dared to look around the sculpture once more to see the room 15 door wide open with no one else in sight. Phew, Kurapika had so far been undetected. He made his move, stalking silently down the hall, with a plan formulating in his head. Since it appeared there were only 5 members of the Troupe, he would capture the woman, taking her as hostage. He followed the retracting sound of footsteps to the same room with the stairs he came in from. Peeking around the corner he saw the dwarf and the three other men disappear into a less public stairwell exit, as the woman went to stand by those fancy tile stairs leading up to the party.
It was time to make his move. The woman was facing away from him, all he had to do was approach her from behind and cover her mouth. He had his gun in his pocket and could have it pointed at her head in seconds. He rounded the corner, ready to pounce, when he heard footsteps approaching from the stairs accompanied by a voice.
"Excuse me ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you some questions." The other security guard's body came into full view as he descended down the last few steps. He must have seen the woman on the cameras in uniform. "I don't remember an Officer Starling working here befo-…" but as soon as his right foot touched the ground, the troupe woman had already plunged a knife through the man's heart, covering his mouth as she did so.
As he watched from the shadows, all sense of clarity in Kurapika's brain was immediately replaced by a muddy flood of pure anger. He acted on instinct, and before he knew it his gun was out and he had fired two bullets directly into the woman's chest.
Boom. The ear-splitting sound of gunshots reverberated off the walls of the room. Kurapika was frozen, eyes widening in realization of what just happened, what he'd just done. The crowd upstairs had heard the commotion and were filing down the steps now, curiosity and fear in their eyes as they saw the woman and man crumpled on the floor.
Kurapika stood there for another moment with the gun still pointed, unable to move.
Fuck. Fuck. This does not look good. Fuck.
Finally, his brain unfroze, comprehending the reality of his actions. It took another second too long for his body to catch up, for his legs to agree that it was time to move. His eyes darted around the room, looking for any escape. There, he thought, eyes finally landing on the red glowing exit sign, that'll have to do. He made a break for it, to that same exit that he had watched the Troupe members disappear to.
At this point, he'd have to pray that he could make it outdoors in time. He'd made it up the first flight, only two more to go. He made it up the second flight as well, only to meet face to face with the big, buff phantom troupe member he'd seen earlier, presumably on his way back down for the second haul. He must have been outside when Kurapika had fired the gun.
"Oi, kid, don't you think you should get back to your party? This stairwell is for emergencies only." The man's voice was loud and threatening. He was easily twice the size of Kurapika and totally ripped.
Well, I guess we're going for two-out-of-five tonight. Kurapika didn't really have time to stop and think here other than that he knew he had to get rid of this guy, and fast to make his escape. He knew he couldn't get around him without taking him down. The Troupe man was bigger than him, yes. However, any person with combat training knows that the problem with big guys is that they're slow. Kurapika was not only faster, but had the element of surprise, as this troupe member wasn't expecting a fight from someone who looked like a party goer in the stairwell.
Kurapika pulled out his pepper spray, using it on the big man. The guy cried out, cursing. Good, that opened up a few seconds for a finishing blow. He used them to pull out his knife, and took the big guy down with an expertly timed stab through the chest.
He bridged the gap between himself and the final flight of stairs in under ten seconds, landing outside and on the ground in less than thirty. His feet were carrying him as fast as they could go. He just needed to make it to the back courtyard exit and he'd be home free.
As he spanned the distance of the rest of the building he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed him out. Kurapika whipped his head back around just in time to see a fist colliding straight with his face, followed by spots and heavy, thick pain, before he slipped into unconsciousness.
"Hey Shal, this little blonde fucker just ran out of our secret pathway, so I knocked him out. What do we do with him?" Feitan held an unconscious Kurapika in his arms the same way someone who hated babies might hold one if they were forced to. "He's got blood on his hands and clothes. Maybe he's a hitman," Feitan guessed. Kortopi stood next to him, holding a golden stolen item that resembled a toilet seat. The item was almost as big as him.
"Go ahead and take the boy and the loot to the van, for now. I'll go see what's taking Paku and Uvo so long," Shalnark replied, as he headed back towards the building's exit.
Feitan and Kortopi made their way over to the getaway van nonchalantly. They'd done this so many times they felt every move was foolproof, perfectly choreographed. They never worried about any details, let alone running into threats. The van was parked in the alleyway just outside the rear courtyard exit. Feitan laid unconscious Kurapika down across the back row of the vehicle as Kortopi finished putting the last of their haul in the trunk.
As Kortopi came around in the van Feitan said with a malicious smile, "Come on, let's see what this kid's got on him. If we like it, we'll take it." Kortopi nodded in agreement, then Feitan began emptying Kurapika's pockets.
Feitan pulled up the bottom of Kurapika's suit jacket to reach up into his pocket. He noticed a thin chain hanging down from Kurapika's belt loop, attached at the front loop and hooked around to the back loop. Attached to it were Kurapika's keys. The chain was just short enough for Kurapika's jacket to conceal it when he was standing. Feitan quickly ripped it off of him to gain better access to his pockets.
The first thing he pulled out was Kurapika's wallet and handed it to Kortopi to hold. He then pulled out handcuffs, a contact case, and a phone. Interesting, he thought. He reached around to Kurapika's other side and found his knife, choke chain, pepper spray, and loaded gun. The knife was nice, high quality, but it still had fresh blood on it.
The men were interrupted by a distressed Shalnark, who was running towards the car with gritted teeth and a torn expression on his face. Feitan and Kortopi opened the side door, to hear Shalnark yelling in a broken voice, "They're dead! Pakunoda and Uvogin. They're dead. Someone killed them. We gotta get out of here, start the car."
Feitan and Kortopi's jaws dropped. Feitan looked back at the boy in their backseat and thought, could it be? Did this kid just take down two of us? A part of him was thrilled at the thought; he loved a good fighter, and was intrigued by the young man passed out in the van. Another more sadistic part of him was ambivalent, and kind of just wanted to see Kurapika's face as life slowly drained from his eyes. The boss might let him use Uvogin's death as an excuse for torture. He climbed up to the driver's seat and slid in, pulling his bandana back up and over his face to hide the smile dancing on his lips that he was sure Shalnark would disapprove of at a time like this. He started the car, heading back to the base. One last look at the Met was another slice of evidence that Kurapika had really stirred things up tonight. People and reporters were now flooding the courtyard, panic and mania clear as daylight on their faces.
"Shal, I think we caught our culprit," he said, hand vaguely gesturing to the back seat. Kortopi's got his things." Shalnark reached back from the passenger's seat to collect Kurapika's items from Kortopi.
"The hell?" Shalnark started as he sifted through Kurapika's things. "Does this guy have some sort of a chain fetish? Oh god… Paku had gunshot wounds and-and Uvo had a stab wound! And he'd been pepper sprayed!" Shalnark's face was twisted up into a ragged frown. Surely, he was more than upset at the loss of his friends. Shalnark turned to look back at where Kurapika lay in the back row as the van moved downtown. "Who the hell is this kid?"
"I dunno," Feitan answered. "Look through his wallet and see what you can find out."
"I kinda just want to kill him," Shalnark whined.
"Me too, but you know the rules. Boss would be pissed if we killed this guy without consulting him."
Shalnark sighed as he opened up Kurapika's wallet, a pout growing on his face. He found Kurapika's driver's license and held it up to get a closer look at it. Kortopi now had his face between their seats, also curious to learn about this crazy chain guy.
"Kurapika K." Shalnark read from the driver's license. "Wait his last name's just the letter 'K'? Hmm… 23 years old, blonde hair, brown eyes, male, 130 pounds," Shalnark turned the card over to looked at his signature. "Well, he's got nice handwriting."
"Keep looking through his wallet, at his other cards," Feitan directed.
"Yeah, maybe he's got a work ID or something," Kortopi added.
"Wait, this is…" Shalnark's jaw dropped as he held up another card. "This is a police ID! Guys, chain boy's a cop!"
Feitan heard Kortopi gasp from the backseat. "Well, he was a cop. He certainly isn't one anymore. You should call the boss and tell him what's going on."
"Okay, I'm on it," Shalnark said, pulling out his stolen uPhone Z.
"Put him on speaker."
"Hello? Shalnark? How's it going over there?" Chrollo's voice was calm through the speaker.
"Hey boss, I uh-well—we uh… we got the loot." Shalnark's voice was wavering now, not wanting to break the news. "But we took a hit tonight boss, and uh… Uvogin and Pakunoda… they… they didn't make it back with us."
"What are you talking about?" Chrollo asked urgently.
Shalnark hesitantly explained the events that happened earlier, getting worked up as he did. His voice was cracking when he said, "and the guy who did it's knocked out in the backseat right now, and I kind of want him dead."
For a minute, the three men in the car heard nothing but silence from the other end of the line.
Then finally, Chrollo seemed to take a deep breath.
"I see. What happened tonight is a true, deep shame, but don't kill the boy just yet. I want to meet him. Bring him back to the base and we'll decide what to do with him." Chrollo's voice was strong and clear, but Feitan picked up on the slightest touch of melancholy behind his boss's calm façade.
Shalnark's eyes hardened as he replied, "yes boss. See you soon."
