Battlefield

And Then There Were Four

ok, i technically finished this two weeks ago, but i was so unhappy with it, i just spent so long editing and rewriting, and i'm finally satisfied with it. sort of. but hey, it's the last chapter of world building and now the story itself can finally start. i'm still going through pretty rough times, and i truly appreciate the comments. i know i'm not used to this site and i struggle with it a bit, but your comments make me smile. thank you so much! the support from this community is amazing!

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Chapter 3

And Then There Were Four

Kurapica stared at the man in front of him, uncertain of how to react. He was well aware that contagion was much faster now than it had been in the early years of the pandemic, and that they were only acting with an abundance of caution, keeping him in quarantine. There was a good chance now that the scratches he'd suffered hadn't actually infected him, but he wasn't sure why this Kuroro Lucifer, head of the Spiders, even cared about this.

The man didn't explain further. He extended a hand towards Kurapica, and the blond felt a sudden desire to back away, to draw his knives, to avoid this strange person at all cost. There was a long, drawn-out silence where they stared at each other. Kuroro was calm, placid, patiently waiting for him. Kurapica felt like he was at the top of a tall building and the floor had suddenly disappeared from underneath his feet. The vertigo was as disorientating as it was inexplicable.

He didn't want to touch him.

He didn't want to look at him, to be anywhere near him, and yet, and yet, he found himself slowly raising his arm and pulling back his sleeve. Kuroro's fingers wrapped around his wrist-his hands were cool, the skin surprisingly soft-and the blond had to resist the urge to rip his arm from the loose hold and run out the still open door. He forced himself to stay put, even as the older man inspected his arm. Kurapica also focused on the shallow scratches, trying very hard not to scream. It felt-everything felt-so wrong, so very wrong.

Kuroro slid his fingertips over the faint marks, all the remaining signs of the attack, barely visible now, and Kurapica shivered. The movement stopped, and there was a pause. When Kurapica looked up, the older man's dark eyes were fixed on his face, studying him with an intensity that was making something flare inside of the blond, warm and uncomfortable.

Kuroro finally let go of his arm, took a step back and cocked his head to the side. His eyebrows lowered minutely, giving him a slightly pensive look. He regarded the blond, and Kurapica hastily lowered his sleeve back over his arm and crossed his arms protectively in front of his chest. Then, without another word, Kuroro turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Kurapica could finally breathe again.

Even as he was relieved to find himself alone again, he felt somewhat irritated with the man for giving him this cryptic comment, then leaving without an explanation. He listened to the sound of the lock turning and heard it catch, then to the man's footfall as he stepped away and crossed the hall to leave the building. He walked quietly to the windows and pushed one of the curtains aside to check that Kuroro had indeed left, then he let the drape fall back into place.

He took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and finally did what he he'd been itching to do from the moment the older man had come near his door; he triggered his Scarlet Eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to look at where Kuroro had stood, just inside of the door. He jolted a little, confused and angry in equal measures.

Right where the older man had stopped, Kurapica could see the outline of the man's silhouette, blurry where he'd moved, but otherwise quite crisp. It was a bright vermilion red, one of the brightest he'd seen since leaving his village, years before, to go on his grand adventure. It couldn't be. It made no sense. It wasn't right.