第６章

As we approach the preparation tables, I spot Kurapika. His back is towards us, but as I get closer he turns around. He simply nods, and returns to his table.

I mentally groan.

Katsuaki heads over to his table, and I lay my fish down on mine. Kurapika's is next to me, and I don't know if we accidentally planned that or not. He walks past me and whispers something to me.

"We need to talk."

I watch him carry his plate up to Menchi. I look down at what I'm doing, and it's an absolute mess. There is no way I'm passing this.

I think back to my mother's diligent hands, cooking dinner for the family. My uncle used to joke around, saying that that would be me when I was older. (Of course, he knew I was absolutely awful at cooking. Everyone did.) My mother's hair would always be tied back in a bun, with loose strands sticking out.

Sometimes I secretly did wish I would grow up to be my mom. She was well-liked and respected in the village. Kind. Caring. I was always jealous of her amazing smile, that was so warm and welcoming it'd make anyone soften. I wanted to be like that.

Though, by the way things are going, I will never, ever be like my mother.

I slam one of the knives' blade onto the table, chopping off the fish's hideous head. It makes a loud noise, of course, which causes a few people to look, including Kurapika. I heavily sigh, staring at the abomination that keeps getting reborn uglier.

Whatever. I'm going to fail anyways.

I take the plate off of the table with so little energy that it almost slips through my fingers. I'm starting to get that familiar feeling that I had every day after I learned of the massacre.

I'm supposed to be focusing on myself. It doesn't matter at all that Kurapika suddenly showed up alive. Katsuaki doesn't matter at all either. None of these people do.

Though, uh, Kurapika and I are from the same clan. We're the only ones left. Doesn't that mean we're kind of stuck with each other? That it's only us now that everyone else is dead? That we need to look after each other?

But, we have our own individual lives. The burning fact that we are from the same clan doesn't mean anything. Actually, it never did.

I remember the young Kurapika I used to know, my best friend and secret crush, the one I would always follow to the ends of the earth. The one who drove my 10 year old heart crazy, and the way my mother would tease me because I made it obvious. Everyone knew.

Of course, he was the one person who didn't.

...Okay, maybe it means something. He was, after all, my only friend, aside from Pairo. Why am I not excited? I mean, I'm happy, but it's not like what I used to dream about. Is it because of Katsuaki and his stupid 'romantic' acts? Is Kurapika angry with me because I've made a friend, and it was a guy?

Wait.

Why should Kurapika be pissed off about that? This is Kurapika we're talking about. He is absolutely blind to these things. He shouldn't care at all, or even notice, for that matter. So why does he use that suffocating tone of voice when talking to the both of us? And what are those looks? What the heck is that supposed to—

I hit my nose into someone's back, almost dropping my abomination. I look up to see exactly what I do not want to.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

So perfect.

Hisoka.

He stares at me with these eyes that I can't even describe. And here I thought mine were scary.

"I'm terribly sorry," I calmly say, slightly bowing. I think back to the incident while we were waiting in the tunnel, where he totally made some man's arms disintegrate for not apologizing for doing the exact same thing I just did.

I like my arms. I wish to keep them.

I try to calm my breathing. A lot of people are staring, and it's gotten a little quiet. Obviously. Everyone in this room is scared of him. He continues to stare at me, and I know that what I'm looking at is probably death.

Instead of my arms disintegrating, however, he simply smirks, and with a rather seductive lick of his lips, he turns away. I feel shivers running up my spine.

He is certainly what nightmares are made of.

I place my plate rather carelessly in front of Menchi. She takes one look at it and starts griping.

"Did you really think that was edible!?" she yells, sending me away. I wince at the sound of her raised voice.

"I knew I would fail, but was it really that bad?" I mutter, examining one of the knives.

"It's alright. At least she didn't flip yours off of the table right in front of you," Katsuaki says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I flinch a little, and he quickly removes it.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... on edge, or something," I mumble, seeing Kurapika with my peripheral vision.

"I've been meaning to ask something... You know Kurapika, right? How?" Katsuaki asks, making sure to whisper. I glance at Kurapika, and sigh.

"We were childhood friends. You remember how I told you you looked like my best friend? Yeah... That's him," I murmur, placing the knife back into its slot. Katsuaki sucks in his breath.

"...So, you must be pretty excited to see him again."

"...More or less."

"Huh."

I look at Kurapika again, who, this time, returns my gaze. My eyes find the ground, and I turn away so my back is to him.

"It's just... This is going to be a shitty excuse, but it's just complicated," I say, looking up at Katsuaki's face.

"Oh, there's a rice grain on your cheek."

"Really? Can you get it for me?"

I stare at him for a second, but carefully pluck the little grain off and toss it to the ground.

He smiles, "Thanks."

My face starts to get warm, and as I say something, my name is called.

"Setsuna."

I whip around, and, of course, it's Kurapika. His fists are slightly balled.

"May I speak to you? Now?"

I look to Menchi, who is still rejecting dishes.

"We don't really have time—"

"Now."

I pause, nervous by the tone of his voice. It rings in my ears.

"...Alright, then."

I follow him off to the side. Katsuaki, Gon, Killua, Leorio... They're all watching, and probably listening, as well.

"You probably already know what it's about," Kurapika says in a hushed voice. I nod, staring into black eyes that used to be a familiar brown.

"This is just the beginning, isn't it?" I sigh, placing my hands on my hips. Kurapika tilts his head.

"Or do you not know?"

"What do you mean?"

He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath.

"It's about Katsuaki."

終わり

Yo! Sorry for a late update (and a shorter chapter! I know I promised more frequent and longer updates.). Unexpectedly, I'm having some family troubles, so chapter 7 will be a little delayed. I'll try to have it up as soon as possible.

And hey, this fanfic's gotten over 1500 views! Wow! Never thought that'd ever happen. Thank you guys so much!