Kurapika was hungry.

He supposed he should be after literally travelling back in time, but the why was beside the point. The how was his main concern. How in this lawless wasteland was he supposed to get food. Stealing? His insides recoiled. No-

Huffing, he stood up. Maybe he could get a job? He jogged his mind, trying to piece together all the information he had gathered over the years on this cursed city. The outskirts were entirely covered in trash, freshly-dumped every week-- if not every day. The more he would go towards the centre, the more buildings he would find-- however pitiful.

Scanning his surroundings, he figured he must be somewhere in the outskirts. He could either find a way outside from here or-

A sudden wave of nausea hit him, bringing him to his knees. If he really was ten years back, his clan... it would still be alive? But no. He was accepting this new reality way too quickly. There were other things he needed to focus on right now.

Shaking his head, he straightened back up. He was in Meteor City right now for a reason, whether it was reality or just a dream. He should not leave without investigating the cause. If this was a nen ability, perhaps there was a way out somewhere here. So now... he just needed to get some reliable directions to the centre of the city-- oh, and some food and water would be nice too.

He brushed the dust off his clothes, feeling strangely embarrassed. He supposed--

There was someone. Behind him.

With an animalistic growl, a boy jumped onto him, shoving him to the ground. Without further ado, the boy began rummaging through his pockets, muttering in a foreign language.

Kurapika stared up at him. Black matted locks hanging limply around tanned olive skin. Cheekbones sunken deeper than the hollows of his narrowed gray eyes. Each movement seemed to pain his bones, a serious lack of muscles obvious in his bony frame.

Apparently dissatisfied with the emptiness of his pockets, the boy began to mutter once more-- harsh syllables hinting towards the vileness of the words spoken.

Kurapika blinked. This was the state of many of the residents who lived here. He had in no way lived a sheltered life, however, perhaps due to the long time he had spent surrounded by the nauseating opulence of the black whale, he had forgotten all about the days he himself had spent in such disparity.

"Are you... okay?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could reconsider, his voice softer than it should be.

The boy paused. "Ja-pa-neez?" He tried, stressing out each syllable separately.

Kurapika slowly nodded his head. Finally.

"Mo-nee? Where?"

Kurapika shook his head. "Zero."

The boy frowned. "No. You..." After a moment of hesitation, he pinched his cheek.

Kurapika sighed. Of course nobody would believe that he belonged here. Not when he, so unlike others, looked like a healthy child. "Meteor City's middle? Centre? Where?" He asked, trying to copy his style of speaking.

"Mo-nee... they-ru?"

Kurapika nodded once more, desperate for information.

The boy's eyes widened. "Vee go?"

"Yes." He replied, smiling. An actual native guiding him would definitely be better than him running around with vague directions.

Without another word, the boy got up and began to walk towards the rising sun. East, huh. As Kurapika followed, he struggled to maintain his balance over the piles of trash. At times, his footholds would slip, causing the entire heap to nearly fall on top of him. He had never more been grateful for his quick reflexes. The boy, on the other hand, seemed well acquainted with all the right spaces to walk on, or perhaps he was just good at spotting them.

Despite leading nonchalantly, he'd stop everytime Kurapika would narrowly avoid getting buried in the trash and stare. Frankly, Kurapika found the staring a bit unnerving-- if not outright creepy. Something about him standing there as still as a statue, his face covered in long harsh shadoww as the sun gleamed behind him, made Kurapika feel nervous and judged each time; even though he kept telling himself that the boy was likely only looking out for him.

By the time they had gotten to the end of the trash piles, the sun had reached its peak. When it once gently kissed their backs, it now seemed to release all its fury upon them. Kurapika was sure he had never felt this thirsty in the entirety of his lifetime, not to think about how worse the other boy's condition would be. Yet, he felt his energy renew when he noticed the short skyline of grayish brown buildings in the distance. Finally.

So far, he had only come across various small tents or other odd spots that could possibly pass for a lodging, taking special care not to pay attention to the people around. He had a feeling they wouldn't quite like it.

After a pause, seemingly born out of relief, the boy slid down the pile, landing neatly on his feet. Kurapika followed. He had never been so grateful to have solid ground beneath him.

They walked on for nearly quarter a mile more before they reached their first cluster of concrete structures-- short boxy and barely standing. Once more, Kurapika resisted the urge to peek and continued on forward. His companion, on the other hand, seemed unable to keep his head motionless for even a moment, having steeled his guard upon getting closer to their goal-- wherever exactly that was supposed to be.

A quarter of an hour later, they were finally next to what appeared to be an actual town-- a district, to be more precise. Taller buildings, more diversely shaped and shoved into one another, yet each having the same colour as the other-- as if they had only one tan shade available in paints.

Kurapika gulped. There were more people around too-- to the point that it was impossible to avoid eye contact with some. As they walked through the crowded streets, he found himself categorising them. There were packs of rowdy boys, some of them, on a closer look, appearing to be girls cross-dressing for safety. There were also groups of men dressed in suits, often seen harrasing one poor vendor or another, probably mafia. He could also notice loners in the mass, usually wearing layers of clothing despite the heat, or covering up their face with a scarf at the least. Sometimes, he could not even notice them as they walked by, nearly stumbling into them. Zetsu, his mind supplied. Whether they were actual nen users or not, however, he could not figure out.

The further they got into the district, the more stifling the environment got. Brushing against people regardless of whether he remained stationary or not, dull hum of conversations morphing into a loud buzz-- screaming, yelling, whispering, begging. There was too much noise to keep track of. He was sweaty, hungry, thirsty, hot and just exhausted in general; not to mention the throbbing headache which had been ailing him for the past hour.

Abruptly, Kurapika realised he was the one leading them now-- had been ever since they had entered the area-- mindlessly finding his way from one alley to the next. The heat was certainly getting to him.

The boy too was growing more and more irritable, muttering in his native tongue again.

They were lost.

Kurapika had no idea where to go and what to do next. He could not even remember why he had wanted to come here in the first place. His only concern now was to find a place to rest.

And so, he entered the nearest side-alley, instantly crumbling to his knees in the shadow of the surrounding buildings. He was done. So very done. And soo very ready to wake up from this hellish dream or nen ability or whatever the hell it was.

The boy followed, sulking. "You... cheat?" He was panting, his voice gruff. "Mo-nee... vayer?" With that, he collapsed against the wall, barely able to keep his eyes open.

The two frowned at each other through bleary eyes for a moment, before the boy turned his head away with a huff and stood back up on shaky legs.

Kurapika watched almost emotionlessly as he slowly hobbled back out of the alley, keeping his hand on the scratchy concrete for support. Under normal circumstances, Kurapika would have followed him... as he should.

Fine. Not like he had any other way to find a chance of survival. The more he'd spend lying here the more his body would waste away anyway. With a grunt, he got up and went after him, head dizzy with heat and exertion.

When he reached the end of the alley, he realised it wasn't the one they had entered through. This one led to a small clearing surrounded by more of the same concrete buildings. The sun was getting lower now too, throwing gusts of dusty winds his way, which felt more like slaps in the face than anything. It still wasn't as cool as he'd like, but he was sure that since the city did sort of qualify as a desert, the temperatures would keep getting better into the night.

After some searching, Kurapika finally found the boy huddled up in a corner, facing towards the wall and sinking his teeth into what looked like a blessing from heavens above-- an apple.

Kurapika instantly rushed forward, sitting down beside him. "More? Apples?" He breathed out, throat scratchy from all the inhaled pollution.

The boy glared at him for a moment, before continuing his feast.

Kurapika's eyes widened. Of course, he turned out to be selfish as fuck. He had only taken him here to rob him blind anyway. Putting on his best impression of a friendly smile, Kurapika tried again. "Please?"

Reluctantly, the boy stretched out his hand, presenting a half-eaten apple. Kurapika immediately accepted, relishing each bite... until he noticed the boy was now eating another one. How many did he have?

As he leaned forward to check, he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and thrown back. With a yelp, he landed on the ground, keeping an arm above himself as he stared at his attacker-- a giant afro, a huge muscular build, small eyes and a big nose. Strangely familiar.

Before he could dwell on his identity, the attacker had the boy against the wall with one hand, nearly crushing his throat. "Who the fuck do you think these apples belong to, huh? I bought these, FOR MYSELF!" He screamed the last words in his ear. "And you fucking dare to steal? FROM US?"

Kurapika scrambled backwards as the attacker turned to him, throwing the boy on the ground where he then lay motionless-- suffocated to death? He didn't want to consider what he was going to do to him. He'd seen him eating the apple as well, right? Or maybe he had not...? The look on his face, however, easily suggested the former.

Shitshitshit. Kurapika had to do something. Fast. Gathering his aura, he tried to maintain a Ten... except... it wasn't there. He tried Ren instead... no response. It was then that, with a sinking heart, he realised that...

His nen was gone.

[A/N: Guess who actually surpassed her writing goal (for once). Me :D As I said in my previous note, this concept is absolutely giving me severe brain rot and I literally stayed up past my usual time last night to write it. Anyways, I hope you like it, and if you do, please leave a review. They seriously motivate me to write more. Here's a lil cat in a lil cap for reading this far o(:3]