Midnight Resolve [Kurapika x Kurta!Reader]

[13] Cobalt Perceptions

When it had gotten later, Hanzo had bid your group goodbye so he could go back to his own hotel. The plan was to meet at a restaurant at ten in the morning, but for now, everybody needed rest. Leorio had, once again, gotten a hotel room with an adjoining room for Gon and Killua, but with you added back into the mix, it left sleeping arrangements to be decided.

"Why does [Y/n] get the other room?! I don't want to deal with your snoring!" Killua snapped at Leorio, clearly irked. You could see the vein in his forehead, but it was nothing compared to Leorio's own irritation.

"Because she's a girl, you brat!"

Stepping in, you raised your hands placatingly. "Let Gon and Killua take the other room. I'll take the sofa, and you can have the bed."

This got them to stop arguing, Killua victorious, and Leorio concerned. Knowing he would argue with you, you butt in quickly, already having an excuse.

"Look, if I have another nightmare again and set my hatsu off, I'd rather disintegrate a couch than a bed."

It was logical, and perhaps that's why Leorio backed down grumbling, not happy with the new sleeping arrangements. You'd be able to handle it — anything was better than that motel bed, after all.

Once Killua and Gon had settled into their own room, and you had changed into pajamas, you had pulled out your journal to continue reading. Leorio, ever the nosy person, couldn't help but look over your shoulder, only to give a confused hum at written language. Not surprising; the Kurta had been a very secluded clan, and only members knew how to write and speak it.

The learning of Kurtan had died the day the Phantom Troupe attacked.

Glancing up and over your shoulder to meet Leorio's confused gaze, you offered an amused smile. "It's Kurtan. When I went back to my village, I found this diary — my diary."

Walking around the sofa, Leorio sat next to you. "Anything interesting that child [Y/n] wrote about?"

Snorting, you leaned back against the couch — you almost showed Leorio the page you were on, before remembering that he wouldn't be able to read it. "Actually, yes," you admitted with furrowed eyebrows. "I knew Kurapika. He was a friend of a friend, and is mentioned here, but I don't really remember him. And he obviously doesn't remember me."

"Wait, really?!" Leorio's exclamation had you reeling to the side with a wince at the volume. Swiftly apologizing, Leorio shook his head. "To think you two had already met . . . That's really something."

"It really is."

Looking back down at the journal, you ran a finger absentmindedly down the page, lips twisting into a frown. "There's another thing that's been bothering me . . . I mentioned an outsider who I apparently had helped, and he pops up a couple times, but isn't mentioned by name so far......"

His own eyebrows scrunching up, Leorio glanced at the book as if he'd be able to magically understand it. "How did you help him?"

Ah. That was certainly a story within itself, but you had the time. Closing the book, you angled yourself so you could face Leorio better. The frown on your face was quickly replaced with the ghost of a somewhat mischievous smile.

"When I was younger, I had my aura nodes forcefully opened in an accident. I think I was around five? I had gotten caught in the crossfire of a villager fighting some outsider, and got hit with a nen attack."

"What?!"

"Mhm," you nodded, rolling your head to the side as you tried to remember it all. With small bits of your memory returning each day, there were still a few holes that you just couldn't remember — thankfully, this was a story that you could remember for the most part. "When the village elders found out what happened, they had immediately placed me into a special training so I didn't accidentally hurt anybody. To know nen at a young age.... It was a big responsibility that had been placed on my shoulders. I had to learn how to control it, and had to keep knowledge of it a secret from others my age." You looked down at your hands, a bitter smile on your face. "I felt . . . More alone than you could imagine. Not even my family could know."