Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They had been rowing for five hours now. The sun had set and the Black Whale’s wreckage had long been out of sight.

A small, white rowboat, a tiny stain in the otherwise grey empty sea, carries two men and one child, who clung to its features like their lives depended on it. One of the men, who had blonde hair and was frail in appearance, does not slow in rowing. He squeezes the oar’s handles with more force than necessary, perhaps compensating for the strength he could not release from his flank lest he flings the oars into the sea. He wore a suit, once well-kempt and well-made for the wealthy, now wrinkled from hours of labor. His grip is ever tight as he keeps his eyes locked on the floor of the boat .

The other man, who was much taller and bulkier than the first, huddles in his seat. His gaze is softer than the first, but it is filled with exhaustion nonetheless. His clothes contrast the first just as much; he wore an old long-sleeve sweater under a worn-out hospital shirt. He still towered over the other despite being hunched over. In fact, he curled into himself so tightly, one would think he was crying. But upon closer inspection, his defensive stance was less to hide his face and more to shield his arms. After all, in them he was cradling royalty.

The third character, a baby who could not be older than six months, bore the royal blood of Kakin. Typical for babies like her in their sleep, she clutches tightly onto her cradler’s fingers. She remains unaware of their precarious situation, as the supplies they carried with them wouldn’t last them very long.

Their only hope was rescue, so they move closer to land in an attempt to raise their luck.

“Surely someone on the ship would have sent a distress signal,” the blonde man had said earlier. “The Empire of Kakin would be frantic. It’ll be the most important rescue mission in history.”

It would indeed be the most important rescue mission in history, but it would also be the most difficult. The Black Whale had been sailing for more than two weeks in uncharted waters. With how vast the ocean was and how far they were from civilization, rescuers and survivors alike can only leave their salvation to luck.

As the night grew darker, the air turned cold. The baby wakes in discomfort and cries for warmth.

“Leorio,” the blonde says to his companion. “The Prince?”

Leorio returns to his senses. He quickly hushes the crying baby and rocks her in his arms.

“There, there,” he sings. “Be quiet now.  Are you hungry?”

The baby doesn’t respond. She keeps crying as Leorio reaches under his seat. He takes a red wooden box intricately detailed by golden flowers. The box was uncovered, and in it, contrasting the box’s fancy design, were two plain, pastel-colored baby bottles, one of which was empty, and three diapers encased in velvet. Leorio takes the bottle that isn’t empty and tries to feed the baby.

But in his frantic motions, the bottle manages to slip out of his hand onto his pants. The cap must have been loose, because he feels moisture gather on one spot of his lap. He immediately picks the bottle up, cheeks now pink with embarrassment, and puts it right into the baby’s mouth.

Right, so now that’s over. Hey, no need to cry over spilled milk, right?

And that was when the box full of baby items falls from his seat, contents sprawling into the floor.

“I’ll clean that up later,” Leorio sighs.

It’s quiet again, and perhaps a bit awkward. Normally, his companion would have said something. God, why is the atmosphere so serious?

“So, Kurapika,” he breaks the silence. “How long do you think these supplies are gonna last us?”

Thinking of the worst case scenario, he expects Kurapika to notice his lack of composure and say something, anything. He always says something borderline offensive just to annoy him, Leorio thinks. But he means this in the most endearing way. 

However, Kurapika is out of sorts as well. Leorio’s flushed  mind had forgotten that they were right in the middle of a life-or-death/political/survival/babysitting/moral crisis. Kurapika responds as frankly, “If it were only the two of us, I’d say about three days. Sharing one can of food per day could make it last six. But Prince Woble can’t compromise her diet as much as we can, so that would be a few more days less. As for water, I would say two days. Unless it rains, that’s all we have.”

“Oh.”

Grateful for the distraction but upset with the news, Leorio concentrates on feeding Woble.

She is suckling with less force than what she started with – perhaps her own way of saying that she forgives Leorio. She places both hands on either side of the bottle and looks at him with large, starry eyes.

Leorio smiles at the baby and rubs her cheek with his finger. Kurapika, whose eyes had caught the sight before him, relaxes his grip.

Leorio seems to have noticed. He lifts his head to catch Kurapika’s gaze. To his surprise, he had been smiling.

“What are you smiling at?” Leorio asks him with an annoyed tone, only to hide his happiness in jest.

Kurapika softens his expession, “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

Leorio’s blush quickly makes its return, brighter and redder than ever. He averts his gaze and declares almost stiffly, “Kurapika, I’m glad you feel that way. You know I’m glad you’re here too, right? I mean, I wish we weren’t stranded in the middle of the ocean with Royal Poopypants here.” He smiles upon mentioning her, and he once again speaks softly, “I couldn’t ever forgive myself if I left there without you.”

Kurapika stops rowing when he notices tears forming in Leorio’s eyes.

“I was the one who dragged you into this,” Leorio continues. “After all it took to find you, to see you again… only to lead you to your death? I must be the most selfish person alive.”

“No,” Kurapika quickly objects. He stands up, keeping his weight perfectly balanced on both feet, and walks along the center of the boat to where Leorio sits. Leorio’s tears have fallen to his chin. He doesn’t look at Kurapika.

“Leorio, you’re quite the opposite of what you say you are.” He was now standing right in front of Leorio and looking down at him, posture perfectly balanced that the boat hardly rocks. “You only ever worry about other people. You wanted to be a hunter so you could treat the sick for free. You took advantage of your popularity in the Hunter’s Association to save Gon.  When you were offered one of the most prestigious and powerful positions in the association, you used that power to… to make sure that I was okay.

“Your ‘selfishness’ saves people’s lives. And now?” Crouching in front of Leorio, he holds the now sleeping Woble’s hand. “You saved hers too.”

Leorio’s face was as red as a tomato now, which appeared to also be struck with a terrible cold with how much snot was coming out of his nose. Kurapika sits with his legs crossed in front of him and takes Woble, to let Leorio wipe his own face.

“I am very glad that you asked me to come,” he continues. “And I am very glad that it’s you whom I share this burden with. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Leorio continues to sob, hands covering his face. But he was also smiling, and he really wishes he could hug Kurapika right now, were he not still embarrassed from his unsightly demeanor. Kurapika removes the bottle from Woble’s mouth and hums a Kurta lullaby.

The tune is as haunting as it is soothing. And, as if he were summoning an ocean mist, they were soon covered by a blanket of fog.

Chapter Text

“We’re out of milk.”

Kurapika looks up from his seat and stares for a few seconds. He had already begun drifting to sleep – surrounded by the cold ocean mist, and with the boat as still as a statue. It would have been Leorio’s turn to row tonight, but the sky was completely overcast and they have no way of telling which direction was which.

Rowing aimlessly could cost them an entire day of their journey. But they didn’t need to worry about being carried by a current, because as far as they could tell, there was hardly any current where they were at the moment. There were no waves aside from the ripples that emerge from the boat’s shadow. Leorio had confirmed this with his Nen.

Leorio, who hadn’t been expending as much energy as Kurapika, busies himself by exploring the contents of their lifeboat. Aside from Woble’s fancy baby box, there was another box that held precious cargo. It was filled with a variety of canned food, one gallon of water, a few packs of biscuits, and a can opener. It was hidden beneath the bow of the boat, alongside a flare gun, a quilt, a lighter, and a tarp. It was hardly enough, but there’s not much he could expect from a Tier 5 lifeboat.

He explores each can’s label while he waits for Kurapika’s response. When the blonde returns to his senses, he eyes the food box and reaches for it. Leorio pushes it towards him with his foot, and Kurapika rummages inside.

“Here, use this,” he tosses a can towards Leorio. 

Leorio reads the label. “This isn’t milk.”

“It’s mushroom soup. We don’t exactly have a choice. It’s that or sardines.”

“We also have tomato soup…” Leorio looks at the can somberly, holding it with both hands. He switched glances between the can and the prince, who was fast asleep next to Kurapika, trying to remember if there’s anything unsafe about feeding canned cream of mushroom soup to a baby.

“Well,” he says to himself, “mushrooms do have a lot of protein, but I don’t trust all the preservatives in here.” He briefly glances at Kurapika, who crossed his arms like an alternative to a snappy comeback.  “But we have no choice, so…”

He squeezes the can into Woble’s baby box like he was playing a game of Tetrix. He puts it back under his seat, carefully reaches for the food box in front of Kurapika, and sets it down behind him. Kurapika realizes that he was beginning to doze off again. He takes his jacket off and throws it at Leorio.

“What’s this for?”

“There’s only one blanket. Try to keep yourself warm.” 

Funny, Leorio thinks, as Kurapika doesn’t seem to have any plans of sharing the blanket with Woble. Instead, he wraps her entirely with it. She shifts as if she knew she was the subject of Leorio’s wandering thoughts, before snuggling in its warmth.

“What about you?”

“I can handle myself.”

“Bullshit.” He throws the jacket back at Kurapika. “Take your binder off instead. You’ve been wearing that thing all day.”

A blush creeps to his face when he realizes the possible implications of his words. He could be more or less asking his friend to strip in front of him, something that he had already been accused of in the past in spite of his sincere concern. So he anticipates some good ol’ oar-induced blunt head trauma, already preceded by the jacket being thrown back into his face. He quickly removes it to see how he could block an incoming attack (not that he could anyway), but instead, he sees Kurapika smile slyly at him.

 “Who says I’m wearing a binder?”

Kurapika giggles and Leorio stops. He opens his mouth in disbelief.

“I…”

Leorio beams. He inhales to give a congratulatory shout, but hesitates when he sees Woble fast asleep. Instead, he looks at him, eyes wide in excitement, and opens his arms as if anticipating a hug.

“Kurapika, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you.”

“God, why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“Yeah right. I’m popping bottles as soon as I get my hands on one.”

“That won’t be necessary—“

“Here we go!” Leorio grabs one of Woble’s empty baby bottles and removes the cap with a pop . He wears a goofy grin on his face and awaits Kurapika’s reaction.

Kurapika stops at the silly man’s antics. Gears run in his head before he is able to react, and when he finally gets it, he chortles. Leorio giggles along.

“So,” Leorio says, “what else are you hiding from me? We’re gonna have to squeeze all our celebrations into one, I don’t think we have enough food for more than one party.”

Kurapika calms to catch his breath. “Hmm. I found my other earring.”

“Oh?”

“But I lost it again.”

Leorio snorts. “I told you to keep them in a box!”

“I was about to, but I misplaced it before I could.”

“You’re awfully unlucky.” Leorio throws Kurapika’s jacket back at him. “And a huge slob.”

Kurapika catches the jacket with his hands and is about to throw it back at Leorio as revenge for the insult, but he hesitates and keeps it. It’s true anyway. He couldn’t deny that.

“What about you? I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of milestones.”

Leorio thinks for a few seconds before answering.

“I came out to my biological parents a few months ago. Around the time you stopped picking up.”

“Oh.” Kurapika looks away. “How did it go?”

“You know, they’ve been having their suspicions.”

Kurapika raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah... There’s this... guy I’ve been talking about a lot.”

Kurapika looks away again. “I see.”

“My mom even joked about it once. To her, being gay was something I wouldn’t ever become. Because that’s how it is, right? Your son can’t possibly be one of those people. No, your son is normal .” There is clear contempt in Leorio’s voice.

He continues, “One day, I told them I liked girls. And they looked so relieved. Like they were congratulating me for something I didn’t do. But then I told them I liked guys too.”

“And?”

“And they just looked at me all confused. Like I had three heads or something.”

“I’m sorry.”

Leorio’s downcast eyes drift to meet Kurapika’s, and he smiles. “It’s alright. It’s not like I was expecting much, really. I’m just happy I got it out of the way.”

“How is your relationship with them right now? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“On a surface level? Nothing seems to have changed. Neither of us brought it up ever again.”

His gaze returns to the floor.

“Homophobia aside, it kinda sucks that they’re ignoring a really important part of my identity. But it sucks even more that I let this affect me as much as it did. We may be related but they’re not the ones who raised me. Their opinions shouldn’t matter to me this much.

“Sorry.” Leorio scratches the back of his head. “We’re supposed to be talking about  milestones, aren’t we?”

Kurapika sighs sympathetically. “Leorio, I’m proud of you.”

Leorio blushes again, but instead of looking away he smiles at him.

As a formality, Kurapika stretches for Woble’s baby box and takes a different empty bottle in his hand. He squeezes the cap before removing it with a pop , and he swears he hasn’t seen Leorio smile this way in quite a while. They both giggle, much more heartily than before, albeit still trying their best to suppress their volume.

They continue to exchange stories, from Leorio’s college adventures to Kurapika’s progress in gathering the Eyes. With their newfound tradition of “popping” bottles, the two share a moment of celebration. Consider it making up for lost time.

It’s unfortunate that they couldn’t be as loud and boisterous as they were in their usual reunions, but the night is just as beautiful with how quiet and dark and still everything was. It’s like the universe let them keep this moment to themselves, free from any distraction, so they could cherish the joy that they are now only beginning to share.

And then, when the two finally run out of things to say, they bid each other good night.

Chapter Text

When morning came, the fog disappeared.

It’s Kurapika’s turn to hold Woble. Leorio stretches his arms as he gets ready to man the oars.

He braces himself, and then gently paddles on the right side of the boat until he faced the east. At the very least, they know that they should be heading west. He feels bad for leaving his shades in his now sunken quarters, as they would have been so useful for a good six hours of rowing while facing the sun. He squints.

He never liked sunrises. Blue and yellow? Seriously? The gradient doesn’t even look that good. He’d rather keep his eyes closed for every sunrise that passes him. Waking up at this hour simply isn’t worth the subpar view.

Yet there is something astonishing about this sunrise, however. Kurapika, sitting in front of him, eclipsed the distant sun with his dainty form. With yellow beams emanating from the horizon, he appeared to be an angel with a halo of gold. Nevermind the dirt on his face, nevermind the bags on his eyes, the universe always finds a way to make him look so breathtaking.

Leorio probably doesn’t realize it when he stares, as Kurapika interprets it as a signal to aid him. He takes note of Leorio’s uncomfortable expression and shifts his seat so that his shadow overcast him.

“Is this good?” Kurapika asks. “The sun will move quicker than you think, but this should help your eyes adjust better.”

“Y-yeah. Thanks.”

The morning is filled with the sound of splashing water, which Woble finds amusing. Pushing away her bottle of mushroom cream soup, she turns away from Kurapika, who then adjusts the baby’s position to let her look at the waves beneath her.

She babbles at the deep blue water, “Mama.”

The adults look at her, and then at each other, with a semblance of surprise and sorrow. This is definitely a coincidence, seeing how her royal vocabulary is still made entirely out of repetitions of an incomplete set of syllables. Besides, she couldn’t possibly know about that, could she?

Woble, unrelenting despite the firm hands that wrap her torso, attempts to lean over the boat and reach for the water, as if readying herself for an embrace long overdue. Kurapika has to hold her tighter so she wouldn’t fall into the sea.

“Prince Woble, that’s not your mama,” Kurapika tells her gently. 

Woble doesn’t look at him, but she babbles a “wah” in response. Kurapika smiles and holds her to his face.

“Don’t worry, Prince Woble. Once help arrives we’ll find a way to contact your mother. We promise.”

He waits for the Prince’s affirmation. She puts her mouth in her hand and pulls it out, slobber dripping from her royal fist. With a “guh,” she lifts it in the air and drops of her saliva get on Kurapika’s hair. Kurapika doesn’t seem to mind, playfully shaking her up and down.

This elicits a few giggles from Woble, and Kurapika smiles at her endearingly. He puts her face close to his so their noses would touch, and Kurapika shakes his head to nuzzle her. 

Leorio, witness to the sight before him, feels his heart melt. Sometimes it feels like he couldn’t recognize Kurapika anymore, with the way he just cuts off contact and reappears as someone completely different. And sometimes, during moments like these, Kurapika shows a side of him that he never knew. There’s a huge difference between the two, and he very much prefers the latter.

By noon, it was Kurapika’s turn to row. Leorio hushes Woble as she cries from the heat. He examines the agonized baby, lips chapped and skin dry. Infants like her shouldn’t be exposed to extreme climate conditions, and Woble’s short but pampered upbringing makes adjusting an even bigger challenge. Leorio pulls Kurapika’s jacket over his head and leans forward in his seat, protecting Woble from the sun.

“I think she’s dehydrated,” he says to Kurapika.

“We’re running low on water,” he replies frankly.

Leorio pulls the baby closer to his chest. Her crying rings in his ears.

“We need to make a choice.”

Kurapika feels the atmosphere become heavy. He assumes the heat was getting to Leorio as well, combined with physical exhaustion and psychological strain. He was also beginning to feel hazy himself. The ocean sun is merciless.

“Leorio,” he begins. “Can you tell me what milk is made of?”

Leorio looks at him.

“What do you need it for?”

Kurapika stops rowing. He had been preparing for this moment since the beginning of their voyage, but he couldn’t tell Leorio right away because he hopes that it wouldn’t be necessary. 

He was planning to use Emperor Time to boost his Conjuration abilities in order to create resources out of Nen. Typically, he reserves the use of Emperor Time in his pursuit of his clansmen’s eyes. But such pursuit could not even occur if Kurapika dies in the middle of the ocean. And figuring out how to Conjure them using plain methods would take too much time and energy.

Every second is an hour, he recites like a prayer. But dying now before his mission is complete would be a worse fate than taking a few years off his retirement age. Besides, there are people right now who are relying on him.

He looks at Leorio and Woble, who were both quietly waiting for an answer.

“I figured that once we ran out of food, I could make resources out of my Nen.”

Leorio nods. “Right, Conjurer. But how long would that take you, though? Didn’t you say you had to spend days licking chains before you could make anything out of Nen?”

“I’ll use Emperor Time. That should boost my Conjuration ability to its peak, making it considerably easier for me to Conjure based on memory alone.”

Leorio blinks to process the information. Kurapika wasn’t lying about how much Emperor Time could help him conjure new items. But doubt still lingered in his mind. It shouldn’t be impossible to eat something made out of Nen. But how efficient would it be to expend considerable amounts of energy just to create a source for that energy? Would the effort outweigh the result? But they don’t have the luxury of doubt, Kurapika realizes with a worsening headache. There is only one way to find out, and it could be the difference between dying and living another day.

Leorio doesn’t have the same doubts, fortunately, and instead takes Kurapika’s words for fact. He knew much less about Nen anyway, and Kurapika should be the expert in his own Nen category.

“God, why didn’t you just do that back when we still had milk? Shouldn’t interacting with the physical material turn ‘considerably easier’ into considerably nothing? Besides, even if I knew what chemicals they put in baby formula, I doubt you’d understand what any of them mean. When was the last time you took a chemistry class?”

“Emperor Time isn’t an ability that I can just use at my disposal, Leorio. There are conditions that I must follow, consequences that my body would have to live with.”

“Consequences?” There is concern in Leorio’s voice. Kurapika realizes his mistake and nearly chokes when he swallows. I should be more careful , he thinks. He would like to spare Leorio the worry for his health, and himself the trouble of convincing Leorio to leave him be.

“Fatigue,” he lied.

Leorio narrows his eyes and makes a face at Kurapika.

“Don’t lie to me, Kurapika. You said something about having to live with the consequences, which implies something more permanent. You know, I know you; you like to hide things from us like some kind of cool guy enigma. Confide in me! Tell me what’s wrong!” He makes large gestures with his free arm which rocks the boat unsteadily. He quickly stills to regain balance and pats the baby who had been dozing off on his bosom. When he faces the blonde again, Kurapika grunts. But Leorio is distracted by the looming clouds on the horizon.

“Your demands are too much, not to mention unnecessary,” Kurapika retorts. “There is nothing for you to be concerned about. It’s fine .”

“Yeah, you see, I’m not gonna stop bugging you until you tell me. If it’s fine, then what is there to hide? Kurapika, there’s still so much you haven’t told me.” He looks Kurapika in the eye and begs, “Please let me in on this?”

This was inevitable. He knew that he couldn’t keep it a secret from Leorio forever.

Kurapika’s tendency for recklessness in pursuit of the Eyes, combined with the general unpredictability of his mission, makes it necessary for Kurapika to set up a system of safety nets. Melody should be the first to catch his fall since she works alongside him. But Leorio isn’t supposed to be involved until much later – no, he shouldn’t even be involved at all.

Leorio was his final line of defense from utter hopelessness and doom. Someone whom he trusts with his life and the world. Which is why Leorio cannot be his savior; should Leorio come to his rescue, he will fail to be the hero to everyone that he was meant to be. He can’t pull Leorio down with him. Not yet, and preferably not ever.

But he accepts the reality that what is preferable and ideal is mostly impossible. Looking back to their mission in Yorknew, there was only so much he could do to keep them out of things. He still thinks he was foolish for ever letting his friends help him, but this time it is different. There is no Phantom Troupe, no heartless murderers and dangers hidden beneath every footstep. Their new enemy is much more unforgiving. This makes every other concern of his meek by comparison.

He needs all the help he could get from Leorio, and by help, he means minimum interference. Keeping the true effects of Emperor Time a secret from him will only make Leorio distrust him. He wouldn’t let him use Emperor Time until he is assured of Kurapika’s safety. Coming clean was the only way.

( Address now, worry later , a bad habit Kurapika never seemed to let go of.)

“Okay,” Kurapika sighs. “I’ll tell you, but on one condition.”

“Condition!?” a vein pops in Leorio’s head, along with an unpleasant memory of a certain coin-themed butler.

“You must understand that the decisions I make are not without thought. Any risk involved is necessary, and any attempt at stopping me would be fruitless. In other words, you must trust me that everything will be fine.”

Leorio locks eyes with Kurapika. His brows furrow, but after one long sigh, he finally agrees.

“Okay. I trust you.”

Suddenly, as if on cue, a large cloud obscures the damning sun, paired with a roar of thunder. In the heat of the moment, Kurapika had forgotten that this area’s climate operates at daily extremes – cold mornings imply hot afternoons, and short periods of drought bring upon heavy rains. As the wind moves faster with cold air, Kurapika almost shudders. He’d have to get this over with soon.

Chapter Text

Unlike their first night at sea, Kurapika and Leorio continue to work towards traveling west. They would go about the same way they do during the day, in shifts of six hours each, taking only short breaks at the discernment of the oarsman.

Leorio takes one more break before his shift ends in two hours. Well, not that he’s had any other breaks that night; they had spent the majority of early evening clearing out the rain water that had gathered on their boat. The air was still so cold and humid that the moist wood would gloss in the moonlight.

He bends his trunk backwards with his arms outstretched. A few too many pops and cracks come from all over his spine, but he attributes it to two days of sitting poorly in a small, cramped boat, instead of the years he spent hunched over and slouching in his studies. He grabs onto the edge of the bow with both hands to keep himself from falling, and when he is satisfied, he pulls himself back to his regular sitting position with core strength alone.

Despite being an overworked premed, he never neglects to keep his body conditioned and more-than-fit. Old habits, perhaps, and maybe because he doesn’t want to get left behind while his friends are learning to be the most proficient combatants. He didn’t care to focus too much on fighting though; he only wanted to be there when his friends needed him. (But things are different now.)

Yet, if it weren’t for all of that, he wouldn’t have been able to pull off such a maneuver. He feels kind of upset though that Kurapika wasn’t awake to see it. Not that he wanted to show off, I mean, pfft , c’mon. Kurapika could probably do better. But, like, maybe he would be impressed? Maybe. Just maybe.

He looks at the man in question, who had obnoxiously decided to sleep like a dead man. His back was perfectly straight (as straight as the shape of the hull allowed him to), and he had both hands clasped together on top of his stomach. If he cleaned him up a bit and adorned him with flowers he would indeed look like he belonged in a casket. He would be beautiful, but…

Leorio’s stomach quickly turns and he drops the thought. That’s not funny . Especially not after what he learned that day.

He looks dolefully at Kurapika. He sees his chest go up and down, and for now, he is assured. The image of Kurapika’s corpse slowly leaves his mind, replaced by a tenderer, sleeping image of him only comically positioned that way, with Woble sleeping peacefully by his side.

It was Woble’s turn on Kurapika’s jacket now. They had to triple-fold their only blanket as a thick mat to protect the baby from the still moist wood. Thankfully they managed to hide both the jacket and the blanket under the boat’s hooded compartment in time, along with Woble, before the rain started to pour. Everything else, including their clothes, had been completely soaked. Leorio removed most of his to air dry, but Kurapika so stubbornly kept his dress shirt on that he went to sleep drenched in rainwater. He had to sleep with the tiny tarp between himself and the blanket to keep the water from soaking into Woble’s side.

Kurapika’s foot ends at the small beam that propped the back seat. Woble’s baby box is found under it, bottles now filled to the brim. Without having anything better to do, Leorio reaches for one and lifts it to his face.

There were lumps forming at the bottom of the container. He gives it a quick shake, and they fly around the liquid like a snow globe.

“Guess we should have crushed them better,” he says to himself. 

The sediments of crushed biscuits once again start to suspend at the bottom of the bottle. Leorio thinks they should boil the solution again before feeding it to Woble. It only looked fine earlier because the rain water they used was freshly sterilized – the heat helped with dissolving the biscuits. It was after feeding Woble for the first time with the makeshift formula that they made the rest, and thus explaining their poorer quality.

Leorio wonders how it tastes. Must be gross , he thinks, but the nutrients should be sufficient. And that way, he doesn’t have to make Kurapika use Emperor Time.

Carie Biscuits are cheap and widely-known. They taste milky and not too sweet, soft enough for people of all ages to enjoy. Leorio remembers how the people from the slums he grew up in would feed Carie Biscuits to their teething babies. If they were soft enough to melt in an infant’s mouth without much need for chewing, then it shouldn’t be difficult to dissolve. Leorio hardly considers this a stroke of genius though, since he was so unsure of how effective this plan would be. But Woble had no complaints, and neither did Kurapika. Leorio was just relieved that he didn’t try to be stubborn this time.

“I won’t get in your way,” he had promised. But he wasn’t being wholly honest. In his mind, he was determined to never let Kurapika use Emperor Time ever again. And that’s why now he needs to be stronger, smarter, and more assertive.

He needs to be strong enough to fight for his friends.

He doesn’t realize that he was crying. God, this is embarrassing. If Kurapika saw him now he would be riddled with guilt. He tries to wipe his tears away, but he just sobs harder. He chokes it all in and covers his mouth.

He feels so frustrated with himself, with how passive he is being. All the screaming he did during the storm could never make up for how much he wants to explode right now. Kurapika’s mission is a death wish, much more dangerous than he had thought, and much more dangerous than he believes it should be.

“You sell your life like it’s worth jack shit,” he told him.

But Kurapika’s retort had taken him aback. “I’m not making these decisions on the basis that my life is worth ‘jack shit’, Leorio. My life is worth so much more – all 137 of my clansmen who were robbed of their lives. I’m the only one left. I carry in me their will!”

He would have clobbered the man for his stupidity had it not been for fear. He remembers what he looked like when he said that: his hair was all over his face and his eyes had burnt scarlet. Leorio was so terrified. He wouldn’t ever forgive himself. Does turning his eyes scarlet automatically activate his ability? Did he force him to use Emperor Time because he was agitating him? He trembles at the thought that he had murdered his friend.

That was five seconds, he thinks. Did I take five hours of his life because I was being so stubborn?

So he decided to give up. He told him, “Fine, do whatever you want,” and made his promise. His heart ached the whole time and his soul clawed at his skin. Despite his quick-wittedness in concern for his friend, and his resolve to instead help him from the shadows, he can’t help but feel disgusted by his own cowardice. It shouldn’t have to be this hard, he says to himself. I shouldn’t have given him the chance to keep dying.

His heart still aches but his skin has turned numb. His own blood prickles his limbs from the inside as he struggles to gasp for air. He is now sobbing uncontrollably, only covering his face as a last attempt for dignity, but even the nearby marine life could hear him wail through the water.

Woble, who had been awakened by the noise, joins him in his mourning. Meanwhile, the man who looked like he belonged in a casket did not move an inch, ignoring the tears that were pooling at the sides of his face.

Chapter Text

By the seventh day, they had completely run out of supplies. The adults have resorted to eating leather, while the baby was on her final two bottles of food. It had rained again the other day, but there’s only so much they can do with water.

“Maybe we could try fishing,” Leorio suggests. 

He doesn’t wait for Kurapika to answer, and immediately rips a hanging thread from his undershirt. He cuts it at two meters long. 

“What are you going to use as bait?” Kurapika huffs as he rows the boat against the ocean current.

“Can!” Leorio grins and ties the thread around a hole he made with the can opener. The label reads “Mackerel”. Feeding fish to fish, how cruel.

“This fishy smell won’t wash out that easily, right?”

“I know nothing about fishing in the ocean. For all we know you could be attracting sharks.”

“We are in the wilderness! Those shark movies are just fake propaganda anyway!”

“Propaganda implies it’s political.”

“It’s goddamn political! I challenge the shark president! Bring it!” and he tosses the can into the sea. 

The can makes a loud plop sound when it hits the water, and then it just… stays there.

The can floats.

Leorio stares at the can with what can only be described as a conflicting look of self-humor and self-pity.

“Can we eat the baby instead?” he says, to which Kurapika replies with silence.

Leorio lowers his head and reels the can back in. He pouts like a child at his failed attempt, but then a light bulb goes off in his head, and he straightens his back. He places both hands in front of him, closes his eyes, and breathes. Kurapika sees a cloud of Aura appear around him, before they radiate outwards in spherical pulses. 

Impressive , Kurapika thinks. He doesn’t feel a thing when a pulse of Aura phases through his body. This way, Leorio could check on his patients without exposing the secrets of Nen.

Each pulse has a radius of about 50 meters before they completely disappear. That’s a bigger range than both of their En combined. He wouldn’t have thought Leorio’s Hatsu could be used for longer distances due to the nature of his profession. But he wasn’t around when Leorio was making his plans. He hasn’t been around for… a very long time.

After about a half a minute, Leorio stops scanning their surroundings. He smiles when he opens his eyes. 

“We’re going hunting.”

“What did you find?” Kurapika says as he watches Leorio shuffle through his belongings and take out a knife.

Leorio grins. “Dolphins!”

Kurapika makes a face without realizing it. He quits rowing and lunges at Leorio, which makes the boat rock violently and Woble tumble from sitting.

“Hey, what’s the big idea!?” Leorio yells at him with his wrists locked in Kurapika’s tight grip.

“Don’t do that!”

“Don’t do what!?”

“Waaaaaah!” Woble joins them.

“D-Don’t kill the dolphins, Leorio!” Kurapika begs. “Look, you’re upsetting the Prince with your animal cruelty.”

“Animal crue–! Look, you eat meat too. Don’t suddenly call me a murderer!” A wry grin comes to Leorio’s face. “Looks to me like you’re the only one who’s upset.”

Kurapika crosses his arms. “Look, dolphins are beautiful, harmless creatures that are often taken advantage of for their friendly behavior. I will not allow you to harm the few of them who still live freely in the wild.”

Leorio laughs. “I didn’t know you were a softie for fucking dolphins !” he says right before falling victim to some good ol’ oar-induced blunt head trauma.

He groggily recovers from the impact. “Geez, you’re acting like a child.” He reels from the pain when he touches the side of his head.

“Listen… ouch… I’m gonna let the dolphins go, okay?”

Kurapika relaxes.

“But you have to give me an alternative. We’re starving! If not dolphins, then what?”

Kurapika’s brows furrow. “Did you find anything else in the ocean?”

“Protozoa, if you’re into that.”

“Then it seems we have no choice.”

Leorio stares at Kurapika blankly, unsure of whether he is being serious or not. When he comes to the conclusion that he is, indeed, being totally serious in his suggestion that they consume single-celled organisms like shrimp, a defeated look overtakes him. He slumps his shoulders and sighs.

“I didn’t find anything else in the ocean,” Leorio says before pointing upward, “but I did find something in the sky.”

Kurapika looks upwards at the cue, and directly overhead, he sees the V-formation of a flock of swan-gulls gracefully flying north.

“I wouldn’t know how to catch one of those,” Leorio continues, “but maybe you do.”

An unspoken understanding occurs between them, and Kurapika nods. They’ll have to do this quickly before the flock gets too far away, and somehow the relief from saving the dolphins makes him excited for the hunt.

“Give me a boost.” 

Leorio grins and swiftly obliges. He removes his shirt in case things get messy (or maybe it’s just habit at this point? He’s gonna give himself a sunburn), and lowers himself so Kurapika could sit on his shoulder. Once they are ready, Leorio counts down.

“Three…”

They both shroud themselves in Aura.

“Two…”

A considerable amount of Leorio’s Nen gathers on his legs as he crouches. Kurapika’s chains materialize.

“One!”

Leorio leaps high into the air, with as much force as his own mastery of Enhancement would let him, and once Kurapika feels themselves slow with gravity, he jumps off of Leorio, pushing the taller man straight into the sea, consequently boosting himself upwards.

He doesn’t wait for his ascent to slow down before he throws Dowsing Chain into the unsuspecting birds.

It takes a considerable amount of energy to Conjure more chain links and bring them to that height. But Kurapika gives it his all, and he manages to wrap two of the birds around his chains before his own body hits the ocean.

Kurapika had fallen from a much, much higher location than Leorio, so when he dives into the sea, his body goes straight down. A sense of panic quickly overcomes him as he realizes that he is now descending at a faster rate than he could swim to resurface. For a moment, he almost dispels his Nen, but then realizes that it would result in the failure of their hunt.

He remembers Woble and Leorio, and eases into himself. Leorio. That’s right, he trusts Leorio. Leorio wouldn’t let him drown. Leorio wouldn’t let him go. He shuts his eyes and focuses on holding his breath. It doesn’t take long before he feels someone pull at his chains, halting his descent. He feels his motions reverse until he is enveloped by familiar arms. He opens his eyes to meet his gaze, and they both smile.

When they return to the surface, they gasp for air.

“Thank you, Leorio,” Kurapika huffs.

“Don’t mention it.”

Kurapika retracts his chains to claim their prey. They each take one swan-gull, who had both fallen unconscious after some Leorio Nen Magic, and follow the sound of Woble’s crying.

“Let’s head back now, we need to tend to the Prince.”

“Are you sure you wanna go right away?”

Kurapika looks at Leorio quizzically. Woble wails from the distance and the sun is starting to set, surely Leorio’s head isn’t half-filled with water that he would rather go for a leisurely swim?

“One week at sea, and only now do you decide you want to swim?”

Leorio just smiles at him, which confuses Kurapika even more. But then Leorio points to his right, opposite to where the boat would be, and Kurapika’s eyes widen at what he sees: twelve – no, thirteen – grey figures gallop in the water towards them.

Kurapika’s face lights up in excitement. Now seeing them in person for the first time, as if all the worry he carried with him through the years vanished for only a few seconds, he pointedly yells.

“Dolphins!”

The pod makes its way to Leorio and Kurapika. The first few who arrive encircle them, inspecting the two with smiling eyes. Or at least, that’s what Kurapika imagines, and he can’t help but feel overjoyed.

“They must have thought we were drowning,” Leorio explains. “So they came this way to help us out.”

Kurapika tries his best to suppress his childlike excitement, but it was no use. Leorio has the same ear-to-ear grin as he did, and Kurapika supposes it’s from seeing him all loose and giddy. Yet he keeps smiling despite the embarrassment that was now coloring his face, and perhaps in this moment he could forget about petty pride. He was among his childhood heroes, after all. And quite literally they were being heroes; one of them nudges Kurapika’s hand as if asking him to let it carry them to safety. He’s so goddamn happy he could cry .

Leorio let Kurapika play along, carrying both swan-gulls as he returns to the boat, while Kurapika swims alongside the dolphins. Leorio takes care of both birds and Woble before Kurapika eventually catches up. He decides he’d stay on the water for a little longer, petting the dolphins who also seem excited to play.

By the time the sun was half-swallowed by the horizon, the dolphins decided it was time for them to go. They bid their farewell with a few clicks and whistles, and all three of the humans wave them goodbye. They swim towards the melting sun in a majestic exit, and Kurapika promises to someday paint this scenery down to every last detail.

Finally, the red sky had turned black. Kurapika supposes it’s time they resume their journey. While it was Leorio’s turn on the oars, he would prepare the birds for dinner (his and Leorio’s dinner, that is). But just as he was about to finish the thought, Leorio’s expression catches him by surprise.

Leorio carries a terrified look on his face, mouth agape and eyes wide with worry. Kurapika couldn’t figure out why, until he sees faint gleams of red on Leorio’s eyes reflecting his own.

“Oh, sorry,” Kurapika apologizes, and his eyes quickly return to their brown color.

Leorio’s expression relaxes only a little, eyes still filled with concern. “Did that…?”

“Yes?”

Leorio struggles to find his words.

“I got carried away in the moment,” Kurapika helps him. “I just… I have always wanted to see a dolphin. I’ve read about them ever since I was young, but I never expected the experience to be this… magical. I’m sorry.” He softly chuckles.

“Yeah, but… Hey, does that mean–” Leorio pauses. A heavy silence separates the two, which leaves Kurapika completely lost, before Leorio is able to continue. “Does that mean Emperor Time doesn’t activate when your eyes turn scarlet?” 

Kurapika cocks his head. “Were you under the impression that I was… using Emperor Time? Even though I am only enjoying myself?” He chuckles.

“Hey, it’s not funny! Last week, when you told me about your condition, I–” Leorio sits down, “I thought I killed you.”

He puts his hands on his face, and Kurapika swears he would cry for the third time that week. Realization and guilt wash Kurapika’s uncertainty away and he rushes to comfort Leorio.

“Don’t bother,” Leorio stops him. “I mean, don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about me. I was just… I’m so relieved.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Leorio. You don’t need to soften your words for my sake.” Kurapika places a hand on his shoulder. “I apologize for frightening you. I guarantee, from the bottom of my heart, that there is nothing else for you to worry about. I hide no more secrets about my abilities, or my plans for that matter.”

Leorio looks at him in disbelief. “You mean, you’re finally gonna let me in on things?”

“Maybe not everything.” Kurapika snakes his arm around Leorio’s waist and sits beside him. Leorio fails to hide his blush as Kurapika rests his head on his shoulder. He continues, “The nature of my work makes it dangerous for anyone to even as much as know a name, a date, or a place that could mark them as a potential witness . That is why–“

“Gee, Kurapika, don’t over explain it!” Leorio removes Kurapika’s arm and instead pulls him into a hug. Kurapika barely has any time to react and Leorio just sighs into his hair. “I just don’t want you putting yourself in so much danger when I’m so unsure if you’d even come out of it alive. When I’m so unsure if there was something I could have done to help you. You know I’d do anything for you, right?” He looks him in the eye. “Stop isolating yourself from the people who love you.”

Kurapika looks away, both in embarrassment and in discomfort at the subject. He still doesn’t agree with the idea of getting Leorio involved, but he figures it would be the least he could do to respect Leorio’s choices as his own person. With a heavy heart, Kurapika decides to let him do what he wants. He deserves it.

Kurapika takes a deep breath and smiles. “You’re too selfless for your own good.”

Leorio quickly retracts his arms and turns away from Kurapika, flustered and drenched from Kurapika’s clothes. “Get away from me, you’re still soaking wet.”

“You were the one who hugged me!”

“You did it first!”

“Hmph! Come, Prince Woble, let’s make dinner. We each get a swan-gull to ourselves. Leave none for the shirtless man.”

“Hey! You can’t feed her solid food! A-and what about me!?”

“We’re behind schedule. No dinner breaks for you tonight.” Kurapika takes Woble and carefully crosses the boat to where Leorio kept the swan-gulls. They bicker for the rest of the evening.

Chapter Text

“It’ll just be a quick nap” is never a promise to be trusted, and Kurapika is no exception to this rule. He had been a little more tired than usual, spending a good amount of time swimming, hunting, and processing feelings earlier that day. So when he squeezed himself between Leorio and Woble to rest, he immediately fell asleep.

Woble, on the other hand, was awakened by Kurapika’s sudden intrusion. She now sits awake by the edge of the boat, producing a concerning sight for any sensible adult. And as if that sight wasn’t enough to make one worry, Woble dares herself to move closer to the edge, mesmerized by the moon’s reflection on the black water.

She crawls closer and closer, reaching for the light that entranced her. The boat tips slightly with her weight, a little bit more each time she approaches the surface of the sea. It’s kind of a miracle the other two aren’t stirred by the disturbance. So she keeps at it, hands open and reaching for the silver disk.

Perhaps if someone older were there to see, someone other than the adults who are snuggled up too peacefully to bother, they would say that Woble had been able to touch the moon. However, not with her own hands – it would be as if the moon’s reflection reached for her body in a similar manner, its white halo spreading and engulfing the baby in a faint light. That is, if said theoretical witness knew how to use Gyo.

Suddenly, the boat’s increasing oscillatory movement reaches its peak. The boat rocks to the right, abruptly slowing and halting, and then similarly rocking all the way to the left. It moves this way back and forth, now decreasing in sway.

There is one less person on the boat. If only theoretical witness were here to see.

Woble had closed her eyes as an instinctive reaction to falling, but when she feels herself slow, she opens them again.

She continues to descend in the dark scary sea, but somehow she feels at ease. The faint light that once surrounded her begins to eerily resemble the form of a human. Its warm presence embraces her, and from it a light emanates, illuminating the once pitch-black ocean.

All at once, Woble sees glowing white specks floating all around her. In the distance, a school of fish reflects the light like a swarm of fireflies in some grand migration. Below her, turtles and stingrays traverse the sea with their commanding presence. And as she gets closer to the bottom, rocks and various mollusks populate her vision.

She lands on the sand with a thump , which hurts her only a little, but not enough to make her cry. Somehow the presence that protected her reassured her in a language only she understood, a language she once shared with her mother. The familiar form then picks her up and brushes the sand off her skin. Woble’s wide eyes look at the being’s face as it picks her up and takes her to wherever her heart desires.

They zoom across the ocean floor, passing various objects that have a bioluminescent glow of their own. Woble stops to pick one up and she giggles with glee when it leaves a trace of light in their path. However, easily bored, she throws it away, and commands the being to take her to where the tiny moon is now being obscured by a passing shadow.

They ascend almost instantaneously, soon greeted by an old wrinkled face. It swims past them, uninterested, but Woble follows it as it moves gracefully along the ocean current. A hoard of similar-looking creatures swims behind them.

Woble reaches for the large shell that encased most of the creature’s body, but before she could touch it, the creature speeds up and leaves the Prince behind. She decides not to go after it, letting the rest that followed sweep past her.

She stays afloat for a while, looking for the next thing to play with, before going after it at immeasurable speed. She does that for quite some time, going after a school of fish, a giant squid, a pod of dolphins, and even a lone seahorse. She marvels at the creatures’ novel features, sometimes even touching them, much to the creatures’ distress. The dolphins were very welcoming though, greeting her as if they had met before. Maybe they have, but it’s not like she would remember anyway.

When she finally gets bored of the ocean, she lifts her arms to be carried to the surface, and the glowing Nen Beast takes her in its bosom before they leave for the sky.

They shoot out of the water like the fountains that adorned the Kakin palace gardens. They erupt like a firework of rain, yet Woble is dry as a Carie biscuit. All the water that had stuck to the Prince’s Guardian Spirit Beast drizzles back to the ocean like a grand display fit for nobility.

The Beast finally gives Woble an opening for fresh air, and she shudders. She cries as the cold breeze prickles her skin.

“Shhh,” the Nen Beast hums, and it rocks the Prince in its arms. Woble is immediately calmed, the Beast’s voice entering her system as a rush of warmth.

Woble looks at its face and laughs. Satisfied, they both fly to some direction the Prince spontaneously fancies, unaware that they are moving farther and farther away from her caretakers.

There is nothing to see up here. The ocean is endless and there is not a single cloud in the sky. Woble ascends and tries to reach for the moon again, but it never seems to get any closer. She is getting quite cranky, and also a bit hungry. She readies herself for a tantrum, should the view refuse to change.

Suddenly, she spots a dot of yellow light that was moving across the sea. The Nen Beast follows her heart’s command and takes her there.

The moving object was a bulky metal ship covered by various lights, gadgets, and banners. But Woble doesn’t recognize anything until she gets much closer, levitating directly in front of a flag that bore an all too familiar insignia.

Though her mind only marks it as familiar . It holds no meaning to her whatsoever, and so she backs away, vision now engulfing the entirety of a flagpole that still props the Kakin flag in spite of the wee hour.

As she continues to back away, more objects enter her line of vision – lifesavers, supply crates, large cables, and a crying woman. She recognizes none of these objects still, save for the woman who now looks at her with wide eyes, tears streaming down her face.

This catches Woble’s attention, and she pauses. The baby brings her arms forward to greet the familiar woman, who held the same features as the Nen Beast that allowed her to come here. The woman steps back to beggar belief, but stops. She lifts her shaky arms to touch her, to check reality, to make sure that she isn’t hallucinating. But more importantly, she holds her arms out to pull her daughter into a tight embrace, to amend for her absence, to promise her that she would never let her go again.

But before they could touch, they are interrupted by the creeping presence of something only the Nen Beast could see. In alarm, it takes Woble against her will, yanking her from the tips of Oito’s fingers. They once again zoom across the ocean, but this time to return to where they came.

Oito screams. There is nothing she can do.

It takes less than a minute for Woble to return to Kurapika and Leorio’s lifeboat. Fazed by everything that had just happened, Woble cries. Somehow, something made her feel so frustrated. Whether it was their reunion’s interruption, the speed of her transport, or mere hunger, she would not be able to tell the difference anyway. She wails, now without the comfort of the soothing Guardian Spirit Beast, which wakes Kurapika.

“Prince Woble!”

He immediately realizes his carelessness and removes himself from Leorio’s arms. He picks Woble up and hushes her.

Leorio stirs from the noise, but goes back to sleep right away. The exhausted baby soon joins him. Once Kurapika nestles her in place, he returns to his oarsman’s seat and continues to row the boat.

Kurapika’s frazzled state does not affect his perfect rhythm. He recounts the events that transpired that day, visibly smiling at the image of the sunset in his mind, but soon frowns when he remembers the state of their situation.

They couldn’t rely on hunting forever. Their only hope was rescue, which Kurapika only prayed for until dawn came. Unbeknownst to him, his wish would soon be granted, however a new type of danger awaits them.

Chapter Text

There’s this notion that whoever is born into royalty almost always ends up a spoiled brat. All the pampering, all the power that could let them get away with trouble they cause, is sure to get to their head. But Woble, despite being a prince, doesn’t exactly act like a spoiled brat. Well, it’s not like she could develop the manner at such a young age anyway. But sometimes even infants can have distinct personalities. Woble, for example, wouldn’t throw as much of a tantrum as most infants would. Kurapika describes her as timid.

However, she’s being particularly hostile today. She would try to lean over the edge of the boat, and Kurapika would have to snatch her away. Eventually, Kurapika decides to hold her in his lap, and Woble is not pleased. She kicks and thrashes in Kurapika’s arms. Kurapika himself almost loses his patience, but a nudge from Leorio catches his attention.

“Hey, let me take care of Prince Woble today,” Leorio says to him. “You really need to get some sleep.”

Kurapika agrees, in all honesty, that he was much more exhausted than normal today and getting some shuteye would be tempting. But usually Woble wouldn’t be so difficult, and today is a bad coincidence of unfortunate circumstances. And his exhaustion manifests, as Kurapika takes a good amount of time to produce a response. His mind flies from an imagined scenario of him sleeping peacefully under their shared blanket, to the irritating reality of a baby throwing punches at his stomach, to an even more disappointing image of Leorio patiently waiting for his reaction, as if Kurapika's well-being is more important than all three of them surviving.

Sigh.

They are being... extremely inefficient. Rowing close enough to land was already an impossible feat to begin with, and they both knew they would have to wait for a miracle to survive this. The least they could do is stick to the plan that would increase their chances of being found, no matter how small, but they take too many breaks and there are too many intrusions and disturbances and distractions and -

“Hey, Kurapika!”

Kurapika is brought back to reality by Leorio’s megaphone voice. The volume was very uncalled for, causing aches in his already fatigued head, so he glares at Leorio demanding an explanation. But Leorio doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he points somewhere--at the direction that Woble had been trying to get away to. And in the distance, he sees the silhouette of a ship.

His heart races and his hands go weak. For a moment, Woble could have easily overpowered him. As breath gathers in his chest, strength leaves his limbs to return tenfold.

Kurapika springs to his feet and shouts for help. Leorio sets off the flare gun.

Everything else flies by like a dream. The ship’s humming engine is dulled by the sound of the sea. The voices of its passengers are muffled to a deafening murmur. Leorio may have said one or two words to him, but he doesn’t quite remember. For most of it Leorio seemed to be shocked as well.

They set down a ladder, deployed some to swim, Wobble cried as a stranger took her and it rang in Kurapika’s ears. It was all one swift moment, and all three of them were together again, huddled small and compact like the vessel that carried them, clinging to its features like their lives depended on it. They sit under a mess of towels and aid, and under Leorio’s request they take Woble to the ship’s makeshift infirmary. The two of them should soon follow.

Kurapika tries to make sense of his surroundings. There were about one, two, three, four medics immediately tending to them, giving them water and asking for their needs. A crowd gathers around them, but keeping a fair distance with the rescues, about five lengths of Woble. Curious eyes perch on the marks on their skin, the wear on their faces, and the large H pin on Kurapika’s suit jacket. He decides to not decipher the not-so-whispers filling his ears.

A loud whistle pierces through the commotion. The captain is making non-EMTs return to work. Their interest abandons them and Kurapika starts to feel like a zoo animal. The buzzing in his head makes it difficult for him to process this, so he lies still and defeated, almost dozing off to sleep.

But before everything could settle, someone makes their way through a crowd of volunteers and faces Kurapika with a ghastly expression.

“Queen Oito?” Kurapika’s face is expressionless. He thought she had died.

“Kurapika!” her familiar voice fades into the background. Whispers once again rise from the other people on board and they address her with a light bow. She quickly bows back, attention obviously fixed on Kurapika.

Oito herself seems to be having a moment of disbelief. Her eyes dart around the floor, the EMT's arms, the strange tall man sitting next to Kurapika.

"Kurapika," she begs with desperation in her voice, "where is Woble?"

Before Kurapika could answer, a kind stranger's voice calls her attention. "Lady Oito," she says, gentle and sweet, with a smile on her face and arms stretched towards the superstructure entrance, "we have the Prince in our care. Please follow me."

Oito's fidgeting hands fall on her sides and she follows the volunteer as if on a trance. Last night's nightmare would soon become a sweet dream come true. The last thing Kurapika sees as she disappears through the door is an expression of nervous anticipation. He knows everything went well when the rest of the hour passes quietly.

Out of respect for the 14th Prince's privacy, the ship's health personnel take Kurapika and Leorio's vitals on a shaded area on the deck. One of the nurses tries to make conversation.

“You are so lucky to have made it this far, with the three of you in a small boat like that," they say.

“Come on now, we’re Hunters!” Leorio responds proudly.

The nurse cocks their head. “That’s not even a standard liferaft model... It’s literally a tiny fishing boat! If I didn’t die of starvation, I would’ve gone crazy. You Hunters really are something.”

The nurse now turns to Kurapika and gives him a smile. Things are much less overwhelming now, with the blinding noon sun hidden behind the clouds and the sound of the sea returning to something more familiar. Everyone has either resumed their quiet work in their respective stations or took the lulling atmosphere as an opportunity to nap.

He closes his eyes and feels the clean sheets of the portable patient’s bed beneath him. He almost falls asleep when the same nurse whispers a “Hello” close to his ear, but not too close to be uncomfortable, and he’s reminded that he first needs to get his vitals checked.

“Have you found any other Hunters?” he tries to make conversation.

“I know of another rescue team who found a Hunter two days ago. Said she barely looked like she was stranded for days.”

Kurapika thinks of Melody. “Do you know her name?”

The nurse shakes their head. Kurapika tries to ignore the pain in his chest.

“Oh!” they suddenly exclaim, eyeing the pores on Kurapika’s arms. “It looks like you’re showing early signs of scurvy. We’ll give you some Vitamin C supplements and ask the chef to give you more greens.”

Kurapika grimaces and Leorio throws a fist in the air.

“Hah! I told  you so!”

Kurapika reluctantly reaches for a purse in his pocket and throws a crumpled paper bill at Leorio. Unfortunately, Leorio fails to catch the Nen-infused bill and it smacks him on the nose. He yelps and Kurapika smiles, satisfied. The nurses look at them in bewilderment.

“Alright, that’s enough roughhousing boys,” the captain of the ship approaches them. “So you’re Hunters, eh? Real tough ones.”

Kurapika glances at Leorio, who in turn gives him a “not this again” kind of look. Fortunately, the captain doesn’t force them to share their life goals and motives in boarding the Black Whale. Instead, he urges them to follow him, leaving the nurses behind as they smile and wave.

“This rescue craft was made for Kakin nobility. Good material, good design. From the outside it looks small, but those fancy engineers knew what they were doing, maximizing space and all.”

They enter the ship’s accommodations and the captain shows them their room: a tiny low-ceiling space with two beds. Sleeping is all this place is good for, Kurapika notes.

“This is where you’ll be staying for the rest of the trip home. Hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“Wait, you’ve filled your quota? How many people have you rescued?” Kurapika asks.

“Well, not really quota, but we have a bunch of royalty on board. Crazy coincidence! They get their own rooms and are top priority, so the ship’s pretty much considered full.”

“‘ Top priority’ ?” Leorio says irritated. “What the hell makes their lives matter more than others’?”

“I get how you feel kid but I’m just following protocol. If I don’t, my life will matter less than it already does.” And with that, he shuts the door on Leorio and Kurapika and the sound echoes around the room’s alloy frame.

Leorio snickers. “I hate rich people. Kurapika, you better bodyguard the hell out of that baby so she doesn’t grow up to be an asshole.”

“I’m not her babysitter,” he dismisses him and carefully lays on one of the beds. “Besides, my contract is as good as void. It would take a good amount of time for the Kakin Empire to recover from this tragedy. And by the time King Nasubi decides to throw the Princes into another death match, Queen Oito may have already taken measures and would no longer need my help.”

“I doubt that.” Leorio flops into another bed and his body bounces on the mattress. “You still need the Scarlet Eyes, don’t you? She’s your only way in. You’re never gonna get another chance like that.”

Leorio suddenly regrets what he said, blaming it on fatigue, and now guilt rushes in his chest as he realizes that he may have pushed Kurapika back into danger. But to his surprise, Kurapika makes no expression indicative of it. Instead, he sighs and closes his eyes.

“Next time,” he exhales. “I’ll try again next time.”

Kurapika puts an arm over his eyes and Leorio watches him still into the comfort of his bed. He considers going to sleep too, until Kurapika speaks again.

“I don’t feel safe.”

Leorio looks at him oddly, but Kurapika’s eyes are still hidden under his arm. “Is there anything about this ship that bothers you?”

“No, not the ship. Just. Something the captain said was disconcerting.”

“Was it about heading back too soon because of royals?”

“He said there was ‘ a bunch ’.”

“Yeah, there’s Queen Oito and Prince Woble.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“What do you mean? That there are other queens and princes on board?”

“Yes.”

“So what? You worried about the Succession Contest?”

Kurapika doesn’t respond.

“Didn’t you tell me it ended the moment we left the Black Whale? If the Succession Contest isn’t over yet, Prince Woble should have died.”

“If a prince leaves the perimeters of the Contest, they die.” Kurapika removes his arm from his head and turns to look at Leorio. “But who set those perimeters? If the Seed Urn Ceremony decides who will participate, then there are two possibilities: one, there is another part of the Ceremony, or another ceremony adjacent to it, that sets those additional perimeters, and two, there aren’t any set perimeters, and we misinterpreted the rules of the Contest.”

“Wait, Kurapika, what are you saying? That we made a mistake!?”

Kurapika sighs wearily, and he turns to face the wall. When Leorio doesn’t hear him speak for the following minute, he assumes he’d fallen asleep. He would follow suit, but what Kurapika had said rings too loudly in his mind, and he spends the following moments lying in anxious wait.

Chapter Text

He closes the door quietly, Leorio, as he lets his friend get his well-needed rest. Since he couldn’t get any sleepy anyway, he figures he’d make himself familiar with their surroundings. If it’s true that the Succession Contest is still ongoing, then they need to stay vigilant. There is no room for mistakes.

As he walks down the hall, he passes by seven other cabins, conveniently marked Rescue Accommodations . That makes it easier then, he thinks. He just needs to find out who rests behind those doors. At least one of them should belong to Woble and her mother. There is a maximum of ten other rescues, and a minimum of five.

On each door, a number is etched. His and Kurapika’s cabin is Door 4. He knocks on the closest one, Door 6. No response. Of course, these rooms are so small that anyone inside would only use them for sleeping. It’s midday so a fair percentage must be having lunch in the dining hall. Otherwise, they would be sound asleep, too far away in dreamland to hear him knock.

Just to be sure, he releases steady pulses of Nen through the floor and into all eight rooms. These readings would be more accurate than when he had released them in the open air, as solids tend to be better mediums for sound, which holds the same properties as his own Aura.

Kurapika is still asleep. His breaths are quick, and his heartbeat is rapid. He must be having a nightmare. For a moment Leorio considers returning, just to watch over him, but it’s too much pressure.

All of the other rooms are empty. The room he had knocked on previously is occupied by a tense woman. The knocking must have scared her. A queen? A prince? A lightbulb goes off in his head. Nevermind. He could always just ask.

I’ll come back later , he says to himself, and runs to the poop deck.

When Leorio asks the captain for the names of the other rescues, he outright denies him.

“Sorry kid, gotta respect their privacy.”

Leorio mentally groans. He doesn’t have all day. Maybe it’s time to put his haggling skills to practice.

He clears his throat. “Mr. Captain--”

“Wulack.”

“Mr. Wulack. Don’t you know who I am?”

“Hmph! A Hunter from what I hear. Heard you guys are real assholes too. Think you can manipulate me just because you’re some glorified researcher?”

“Glorified researcher--! Now listen here you...” It quickly occurs to Leorio that what Wulack said is not far from the truth. But he doesn’t care about that, and he has no time to think about this! “I’ve got a really powerful position in  the Hunter Association. I’m not threatening you, I promise, but I do have the power to grant you certain... benefits.”

Wulack laughs loud and heartily. “What kind of benefits?” he entertains him.

Leorio looks around the room for some kind of clue. A photo of his family, a custom birthday mug... Geez this is all so generic.

“Er, protection,” he decides to say. “I hear Kakin’s got you all tied up.” A lie, but not overt. “Whatever damage your higher ups might do to you, your family, or your career, the Hunter Association will take care of it.

“The Kakin Empire may now be part of the V6, but all the other continents aren’t too eager about being buddies with  you guys just yet. And the Hunter Association has ties with the former V5 that go way back.”

He leans in closer to Wulack’s face, who now seems to be considering. “So, whaddaya say, Captain?”

Wulack stays quiet for a brief moment, but then puts a hand up at Leorio’s face. “Pass, that ain’t doing anything to me. Besides, what certification do I have that you’re as influential as you say you are? Now get out of my office, I’m gonna get some lunch.”

And with that, the captain shuts the door on Leorio once more, this time locking it from the opposite side of Leorio, eyeing him all the while, and leaves for the dining hall.

“ Shit! ” 

Leorio kicks the door frame and he reels in pain. He cusses and makes a commotion, but seeing as Wulack never returned to check, he must have been long gone. This is the perfect opportunity. Wulack may have his keys and locks and whatnot, but Leorio has a secret weapon...

Activating Ko, he strikes his Nen-shrouded fist onto the surface of the wall. The impact energy is instantaneously transferred to his Nen as the wall and his fist take no damage. A Nen fist appears straight out of the floor behind the door, reaching more than high enough to unlock the knob. Once it does, Leorio dispels his Nen. He swiftly retrieves the Captain’s journal and leaves, making sure to lock the door behind him.

He makes it quick, hiding the journal under his jacket (by courtesy of ship), and returning to their room. But when he arrives, Kurapika is no longer there.

“Take that back, Leorio!”

The wooden ship tips all the way to the side. Barrels and boxes sweep across the floor, but he and Leorio remain planted in their positions. The storm makes it difficult to see, but he knows where Leorio is, and what he’s doing. This has all happened before, after all.

“I said, take it back.” Kurapika takes the bokken hidden under his suit jacket. Leorio retrieves a knife beneath his scrubs.

He knows what’s going to happen next. Now, he’s going to say,

“ It’s time for you to die.”

Tserriednich lunges at him atop his monstrous Guardian Spirit Beast. Kurapika tries to dodge but he slips on the wet floor. The foul stench of formalin burns his nasal cavity and he starts to cough blood. The Scarlet Eyes, free from their glass encasements, roll off to the sea.

“ No! ” Kurapika screams. He desperately crawls on the floor to reach them, but he is too late. Woble has fallen into the water.

“Queen Oito, it’s me, Kurapika.”

A small voice responds. “Come in.”

When Kurapika opens the door half-way, he sees Oito holding a sleeping Woble, the same way she had when they first met. Only this time, Oito is smiling, perhaps for the first time since they departed from the docks of Kakin.

Her room is very different from Kurapika and Leorio’s. It’s much bigger, with only one queen-sized bed, and some furniture that makes the place look more like a hotel room. Of course, that’s because royals’ accommodations are found elsewhere on the ship, in the lower deck, with three rooms for three possible rescues. The rooms similar to Kurapika’s were for everyone else who isn’t as important, all to be squeezed together like sardines for the rest of the trip home. Kurapika, who unlike Leorio had brought his identity cards with him, simply showed them to Wulack in the dining hall and was given permission to visit the Prince he worked under. Oito gestures to the chair opposite to her, and Kurapika takes a seat.

“I forgot to thank you,” Oito begins. “I know your contract expired as soon as the voyage failed, but you still took care of Woble this whole time.”

“When it became clear that our terms were no longer applicable to my situation, I merely made a choice for myself. I had an infant with me. I think most people would have made the same decision.”

Oito smiles. “You know, it’s funny, because I was expecting you.”

“You were expecting me?”

“Well, not exactly. But I was expecting Woble. I only thought the only way she could have survived for this long was if it was someone as trustworthy as you who was looking after her. You see, ah, I’m going to sound crazy if I said this. But I saw Woble last night.”

“You saw the Prince... last night?”

“I saw her here. Floating towards this ship like some kind of supernatural creature. But it’s my daughter, I know it’s my daughter. I thought I was dreaming, but I never woke up. I’d been told I was hallucinating but I always had a feeling.”

Kurapika makes no comment. There’s no time for this, and still he doesn’t understand what she’s trying to say. He flicks his fingers as urgency wells up in him. Still, Oito continues.

“But just as I was about to touch her, she was taken from me. She disappeared. I was so devastated.” Otio’s voice begins to shake, but she tries to maintain her composure. “I was angry. What kind of joke was that, what kind of mean trick? To have me resign myself to my own death and my baby’s, when I knew someone as small and fragile as her could not have possibly survived that shipwreck, then to save me and have me agonize for what felt like months, and to deceive me! With some kind of magic. The image of my baby girl within my reach, allowing me the greatest and most selfish joy, for who knows if she wasn’t real and I was actually celebrating her death? Who knows if I deserve to be happy?

“But I let myself fall for that trick, and it really was a trick after all, when she disappeared into thin air before I could even touch her! It’s so cruel, it’s so cruel! It’s so cruel and awful that, even then, I still believed. What could fate possibly have had in store for me then? How could the universe keep making things worse?

“But it didn’t. It didn’t get worse. And she’s here now. You brought her to me, and now this is really her, she’s really real, my baby Woble in my arms. I heard her cry and I breastfed her, she’s real and she’s actually here. I am content. I am content.”

And Oito had failed. Tears stream down her eyes in massive amounts, and she’s shaking with her back bent forward, encasing Woble with her whole body. The baby struggles under Oito’s strong grip and cries. Her mother is quick to hush her.

Kurapika feels frozen at the sight though; he is slow to grab the box of tissues that had been resting on the bedside. Oito, however, is quick to calm, and tends to Woble right away with hushes of apologies and a tear-stained smile. Kurapika is now even more unsure with how he should proceed, but his vision starts to dim and he braces himself on his seat. 

“Queen Oito,” he says with a sorry, solemn tone. Fortunately for him, Oito is quick to catch on and she doesn’t give him much trouble. The joy from her face fades and is replaced by the same look of worry that she had always worn ever since they met. It’s less a face of shock, and more a face of resignation.

“I see. That’s why you came here. There’s bad news, isn’t there?”

Kurapika nods.

“I didn’t want to distress you any further, but it’s a matter of safety. I’m very sorry, Queen Oito.”

Leoro looks around the ship for Kurapika. He tries the dining hall, the bathrooms, and several other places that he could have gone to. He considers checking the rescue accommodations again in case he went to visit Oito. Sadly, the Captain’s list doesn’t detail their room assignments. He doesn’t think it’s wise to carelessly ask the crew members about this either, as there’s a possibility that some if not all of them work for the enemy prince. The EMT volunteers, however, whom he knows have been recruited from NGOs, have a higher chance of being completely unaffiliated with the royal family...

“The blonde guy? No, I haven’t seen him,” says the nurse who had previously examined them. “He really shouldn’t be wandering around, and neither should you! Aren’t you guys like, tired!?”

“Ugh, listen, my friend doesn’t know what rest even means and I can’t rest until I’m sure he’s okay. I think he could be with Queen Oito though, he used to work as their bodyguard. Do you know where she is?”

“Of course! Follow me.”

They make their way through the ship’s maze-like interior, but in a direction opposite to the rescue accommodations.

“Hey, are you sure this is the right way?”

“Yeah, special rooms go further inside for security purposes.”

“Wait... special rooms? That doesn’t make any sense! If there are special rooms for the royal family, then there’s no need for the return protocol."

“What return protocol?”

Leorio starts to feel uneasy. “Captain Wulack told us the ship would return once the rescue accommodations are filled.”

“Right, and we hardly have half of you guys.”

“He also told us that members of the royal family get one of those rooms to themselves...”

“Also true...”

“...and somehow made it look like they were staying in a room like ours.”

The nurse stops walking. “Huh? Maybe you just misunderstood.”

“No, he told us you were already heading back to land.”

They put a hand to their chin and hum in thinking. “It’s possible that I just missed it, but I don’t remember any return protocol that allows that. We’re supposed to rescue as many people as we can before we return, since the sea we’d have to search is vast and we don’t have that many vessels assigned for this task. The only exception to this would be a matter of life and death.”

They both mull it over. If it were a matter of life and death, then the health personnel would know. This new confusion irritates Leorio. He pulls on his hair suppressing a scream. The nurse suggests that they continue to Oito’s room.

“If all goes according to plan, we can pass off your disappearance as death from the wreckage, since word from these ships have yet to reach the dock.”

“You have the capability to pull that off?”

“It’s not something you need to worry about.” Kurapika forces a smile. 

She looks at him, still quite unsure. But she extends her hand, the same way she had in the past, only this time it doesn’t take as long for her to decide. They have come to the point of understanding just how much one is willing to go for the other. When their hands meet, they shake once, steady and firm, and their trust is reinforced.

However, the moment is quick to pass. “Kurapika,” Oito says hurriedly, “there’s something you need to know.”

Kurapika frowns. Yet it’s something he had anticipated.

“Woble isn’t the only prince on this ship.”

And it comes to him, flurrying thoughts of how many and who, all which had been waiting to attack from the back of his mind. Flashing images of each prince’s profile, pausing at Tserriednich, then they flash again, pausing at Tserriednich, then they flash again, pausing at Tserriednich, then they flash again...

Images from his dream are thrown into the mix. Fear and anger mix together in one stomach-churning storm.

But “Who?” is all he manages to say.

Oito barely starts to speak when a loud banging comes from the door. She gasps in alarm, and Kurapika scrambles to stand between her and the door.

Suddenly, the door is kicked down, hinges and bolts and splinters flying everywhere. Oito hunches over to protect Woble with her back and Kurapika readies Dowsing Chain.

The intruder is revealed to be none other than Captain Wulack, who enters alongside four other men, all armed with batons. Oito stands up and sternly asks the Captain for an explanation.

“You are under arrest,” Wulack responds, “for plotting to assassinate the Second Prince Camilla!”

Chapter Text

Chaos ensued, and the Black Whale finally met its end. Oito had been running along the halls of Tier 1 to reunite with her daughter. People were dying left and right -- those from the lower tiers who had broken their way in as a desperate attempt to run from Death, and everyone else who was unfortunate enough to get caught in the crossfire.

It started as a rumble and a loud screeching sound, then all of a sudden, the walls and the floor before her opened. She heard someone shout her name, a voice that had been their guiding light in this death-filled journey. But a different light had met her there; the blinding light of the noon sun pierced the ship to its heart, and all Oito could see was the blurry image of her daughter in the arms of that man.

When she woke, it was night time. She had barely made it on top of a floating debris. Her head stopped bleeding but her left arm was still broken. There were still some people around her who, like her, clung to their lives, and in the distance, some who were swarming around a Tier 1 lifeboat like piranhas upon blood. It did not matter to her. Her baby could not have survived this. Her life as a queen, Woble’s mother, is over. Her life is over.

Floating aimlessly at sea is an interesting metaphor for limbo. No purpose, no pleasure, no pain; just the emptiness of waiting for your soul to rot. A void-like state spent in eternity. And it felt like eternity, too, until someone had intervened.

Someone recognized her immediately, a Kakin loyalist perhaps, for no one in their right mind would be so blinded by the promise of monarchs that they’d bow to her in such a lawless place. That they’d pick her, among the several of them scattered around the sea, the several of them who had given in to fate after losing everything.

She did not have the strength to protest, or to argue, or to laugh. They were pulling her in and cared for her as if she was a baby. This is so funny, she thinks. This is so funny.

It’s such a cruel joke. To have let herself become resigned to fate, only to become one of the lucky ones.

Tier 1 lifeboats have a homing device, apparently, and it wasn’t long before they were found by rescuers. Once again, she had become Eighth Queen Oito, but no longer with the purpose that the title entailed.

It was an agonizingly desolate period, even more desolate than the time she had spent in limbo. It would surely last an eternity now, with her dressed in clean robes and fed with good food, life to be spent long and dreaded. Fate has only ever been so cruel to her.

The next day, they found her step-daughter. It was strange, they said, because they found her alone in a Tier 1 lifeboat surrounded by corpses despite their short time at sea. Still, it did not matter. Camilla has never even spoken to her before.

She tried to help the others grieve. The Kakin loyalist lost her whole family. She had an infant baby too, and they bonded by telling stories while helping around the ship. Others thought it strange, how strongly the Queen would insist on doing dirty work. But for Oito, maybe the work reminded her of home. Her real home, when life was simpler and royalty was but a dream. If the people on the ship hadn't known she was a queen, she would blend in perfectly with her calloused hands from a childhood of work.

Oito would still get special treatment, though. When she finished, she was done. Her friend, on the other hand, Meryl was her name, one of the kitchen helpers would bully her into doing more work. Meryl, however, isn't bothered.

And then it happened, one night, the strangest and cruelest thing that had occurred to Oito yet. She saw a baby, her dead baby, descending from the moon like heaven’s gift. She’s a ghost, she’s an angel, but she looked so much alive. Oito had been alone on the upper deck that night, so it couldn't have been a trick. Still, what a beautiful trick it was, to see her daughter levitating there, eyes wide as her own, floating into her open arms.

She got excited. She leaned forward on her tiptoes, and maybe she was even smiling, but she was also crying, that’s for sure, and her heart was beating in and out of her chest. It seemed like the appropriate ending to a pain-filled journey. She has suffered, she has grieved, and now, this is her reward.

She deserves to be happy. Don't we all?

But then, Woble disappeared. Like she’d been snatched right in front of her. She was screaming before she realized it.

“Queen Oito,” Camilla said. It was the first time she ever spoke to her. Oito turned to her with a grimace, but not because of the piercingly painful aura that radiated from the beast tailing the Prince. Camilla did not seem to care. Her gaze was fixed in the distance.

She called Meryl to her bedroom that night. Meryl was equally distressed, if not more. It frustrated Oito. Meryl had no right to be so unsupportive of her. In the back of her mind, she recognized those pain-filled eyes, but she responds to guilt with annoyance. No matter. Meryl was not the right person for this, and at that moment maybe she didn’t need one anymore. Oito was no longer furious with the universe; she was convinced. It felt strange to her, and maybe she was still a little angry albeit only with herself, but she felt convinced and relieved. Somewhere out there, Woble is alive.

When she woke up in the morning, Meryl was no longer with her. There was a commotion outside, but before anyone could alert her, she already knew.

She barely fixed her robe when she fled to the main deck. Along the way she pushed people to the side, not minding anything else. It felt like she was running out of time, and should she be one millisecond short of it she would never forgive herself and anything else ever again.

“Kurapika,” she said to herself upon seeing him. It should be no surprise, but where is her daughter?

It couldn’t be, she thought, that once again she’d been tricked into thinking there was anything to look forward to. She was breathing rapidly. “Kurapika, where is Woble!? ”

“Lady Oito!” a voice from behind. It was one of the cleaning staff, who had her arms extended towards the superstructure entrance. “We have the Prince in our care. Please follow me.”

And she did follow her, inside and through the halls until they made it to the infirmary. And over there, on pristine white sheets, lied the same person who had visited her the night before. Her everything, her Little Prince, who descended from the heavens to bless her life with meaning.

It was an emotional reunion. She ran to her daughter and embraced her, despite the doctor’s warning. Woble was okay though, just a bit weary and in need of some nourishment, but Oito easily resolved it by opening her robe and breastfeeding her there. The others decided to give them some space and left them to their long-awaited reunion.

She hasn’t let go of Woble since. With the doctor’s permission, they were accompanied back to Oito’s quarters to rest. 

But all of her joys have been short-lived. Kurapika, the Harbinger, had come to visit her. In the back of her mind was a growing worry. But still overcome by the presence of her daughter, Oito could not help but get carried away in emotion...

“I am content.”

...Only to be cut off by the agonizing news that confirmed her suspicions: the Succession Contest isn’t over, and Woble is far from safe. Despite their newer freedom in the absence of the other princes, it made no difference to Oito. She held Woble as tightly as she could. Never again. She is now more determined than ever.

Came a temporary surge of determination, and perhaps a tinge of joy, yet even that was short-lived (as fate likes to toy with her). She’s been arrested without warrant, a common case of corruption, but her heart had been shattered and wrung and burnt the moment they took Woble away again.

“I’m not plotting anything. Queen Oito can testify for me,” Kurapika says weakly. His body is about to give and everything is turning out for the worse.

Wulack scoffs. “Lady Oito can’t testify for you. She’s under arrest too.”

Oito gasps and tries to scuffle in terror. Two of the men quickly grab her despite her protests, urging her to push Woble further into her chest. The baby starts to cry.

“This is such a baseless accusation!” Oito says madly. “What evidence do you even have against us?” She tries to struggle again but the men’s grip on her arms is strong. One of them takes Woble from her, aggressive and swift. The baby cries further in pain and Oito wails.

“Stop! Stop! ” she keeps begging. But Woble is already safe, despite her continuous squalling, and Oito had her arms behind her and she could only squirm in agony.

Wulack refuses to address the question. Kurapika, slightly dazed, is also apprehended, and without the strength to resist.

The clicking of heels against the faux wooden floor is what brings his attention back to reality. He looks up, where his gaze is met by icy blue eyes. This isn’t the first time he’s seen Prince Camilla, nor the disgusting Nen Beast that followed her around. But this time she stares him down with a sure sense of victory, a proud gaze of certainty. He gives up his own gaze, defeated, and the men start dragging them outside.

“Wait!” Oito exclaims with bated breath. “What will you do to my baby!?”

Wulack assures her. “Since the Fourteenth Prince cannot be brought into the detaining rooms with her mother, she will be placed under the care of her older sister, Prince Camilla.”

Oito falls with weakened knees. Kurapika could do nothing but faint.

“Lady Oito, you have a visitor.”

“Let me see my baby.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Then I will not be accepting visitors.”

Five hours later, Oito finds herself under the mercy of blunt edges. She remains perfectly still, seated on a wooden bench that doubles as her bed. This is the second time someone spoke to her since her arrest. She has pleaded both times to only be with Woble. And both times she’d been denied.

“This guy is really insistent on seeing you,” the man returns.

He’s a young man, possibly in his late teens, easily intimidated by whatever comes his way. So when Oito’s gaze remains on the wall opposite to her, the man pinches the skin on his elbow. There’s surely no resolving this, so he just brings the visitor in, against Oito’s will, not to satisfy the visitor but to show the Queen that there’s no getting out of this.

“Lady Oito!” the visitor’s voice is loud and deep.

Oito crosses her arms in annoyance. “Didn’t I say I don’t want to see anyone?”

“But I’m a huuuuge fan!”

Oito looks at him in disbelief. It’s the same man who was with Kurapika when they were rescued. He keeps a goofy look on his face, and she has a difficult time telling if he’s lying.

In the strangeness of it all, she allows him to speak.

“I’ve been following your story ever since you won Miss Prako five years ago!” He makes large gestures with his hands. The man is quite a spectacle, given his height as well, that even the guard who had been so unsure keeps his eyes locked on him. So does Oito, but for a different reason.

She plays along with his act until Leorio’s job is finished. In the space between them, a Nen message is formed.

Chapter Text

A bead of sweat drips from Leorio’s forehead. He manages to hide himself and the nurse behind a sofa in a nick of time. He was quick to detect the presence of two strong Nen users, one with an eerie sense of malice and another he couldn’t quite understand. It feels neutral, but somehow more monstrous than the first. He doesn’t have time to explain it to the nurse, but they are luckily very cooperative. He’d have to get their name soon, it’s likely they would become an important ally.

He overhears the loud banging, the breaking of wood, and the pained cries of a woman. Finally, the declaration of arrest, and Leorio knows they were in big trouble.

He should run to Kurapika right now. That guy’s nowhere near the condition to defend himself, not even with his sharp tongue. He could take those men down easily. He’d grab Kurapika, the Prince, and the Queen, and he’d think of what to do from there. But that presence... It’s difficult to ignore. The monstrous Nen had become calmer but he can’t help but think that this is far worse than familiar raging bloodlust.

He comes to a difficult decision. “Let’s go,” he mouths to his new friend. They both run away undetected.

When Kurapika comes to, his body is hot and he can hardly move. He finds himself in a room resembling an infirmary. Six beds including his were lined up against the walls, chatting nurses can be heard from the backroom, and two men sit on either side of him. He recalls what had happened earlier and dread overcomes him. One of the men notices that he’s awake and turns his attention to him.

“How long was I out?” Kurapika asks.

“Eight hours.”

The guard doesn’t sound very intimidating. He probably wasn’t meant to be a guard anyway. Security is much poorer here than it was on the Black Whale, which is no surprise considering the ship’s actual function. But why would a rescue ship use Camilla’s words against them? Have the Princes also bought out the rescue fleet before leaving? No, it’s likely that the Captain’s allegiance to Camilla is very recent. Still, this provides no insight into how they could possibly escape, much less keep Woble safe, when they’re in the middle of the ocean surrounded by enemies.

“I’m sorry,” Kurapika catches himself drifting, “what did you say?”

“Eight hours.”

Eight hours. That’s much too long. Woble is only a baby. How easy is it to take a person’s life? How fast does it take to kill someone as defenseless as a baby?

“Prince Woble, how is she?”

“She’s with a nursing woman somewhere on this ship.”

“Is she well?”

The guard gives him a curious look. He must think Kurapika is too serious about his loyalty to Woble. Kurapika doesn’t care. He has no idea the type of danger she is in.

“Yeah,” the guard responds.

Kurapika closes his eyes when pain worms its way around his head. As much as he hates to admit, he needs to focus on recovering if he were to think of a better plan. Fortunately, chatty voices distract him when with mention of Leorio’s name.

“Leorio’s the tall guy who came with the Fourteenth Prince, right?” a familiar voice says. “He’s been resting in his room all day.”

Kurapika is relieved. At least they didn’t arrest Leorio.

When he opens his eyes, the nurse from yesterday is standing next to his bed.

“Good morning,” they say, before turning to one of the guards. “He has a high fever. I’m gonna give him a sponge bath if that’s okay.”

They nod. But when the nurse doesn’t start, they come to the realization that they’d want the courtains drawn. Hesitantly, they give them space, and the nurse immediately works to hide themselves from sight.

“I can do it on my own, thank you,” Kurapika tries to stop them. But the nurse winks, and makes an “L” with their hand. Kurapika sits back a bit confused and maybe a bit offended, but his mind changes when the nurse stands on their tiptoes and imitates Leorio’s posture. The guards’ silhouette on the curtains catch the periphery of his eye, and he concedes. “Fine,” he says.

He takes off his shirt with his arms feeling heavy, the heat of his body burning the skin on his hands. The nurse offers him help, which Kurapika rejects with a cranky an poorly thought-out jerk. Luckily they take no offense to it.

The nurse gasps. Kurapika braces himself, as he doesn’t always get the best reactions when people see his mastectomy scars. However, the nurse instead says, “Nice tats bro.”

Kurapika is too tired to pretend to laugh, but he is nevertheless relieved. The nurse catches his attention again when they wave a piece of paper in the air with one hand, and a small towel in the other. “Scrub scrub scrub,” they sing nonchalantly.

Once getting Kurapika’s nod of approval, they scrub Kurapika’s left arm with the towel while leaving the piece of paper in his right hand. When he opens the note, he is greeted by Leorio’s familiar scratchy handwriting.

The note reads:

zhang lei’s agents plan to smuggle woble and meet with allies in a ship not far away. Will occur on the next night, but must act fast in order to save wobble’s life.

Woble’s name was misspelled and the capitalization was inconsistent. It put a smile to Kurapika’s face. He mutters his name silently, but the nurse puts a finger to their mouth. That’s right, Leorio is their secret advantage. He shouldn’t endanger him, though he’d prefer not to get him involved at all.

It’s a surprise though that Zhang Lei not only has agents on this ship, but command on others as well. This ship must have originally been loyal to Zhang Lei, then. But the Captain has wavered to Camilla. Zhang Lei must still be missing.

Meryl was tasked to look after Woble. Inside the Second Prince’s quarters, she holds the baby in her arms as she nursed her. She’d look down at her sleeping form, gently stroking her cheek with a finger, cupping her face, running her hands on her soft curls. Her baby did not have such curls. His hair was flat and straight, like Meryl’s. Woble is much bigger, too. In no way did the Prince resemble her son. But she still held her as close as she could.

She hasn’t said a word since Wulack left her with the baby eight hours ago. She was allowed in the room by Prince Camilla herself, though she remains out of sight behind a pink satin curtain, surrounded by four other men who very laxly play cards. The Prince had gone out on some business Meryl couldn’t care about. There isn’t anything she can do. Soon, this baby would be taken away from her, too. Camilla wants her dead.

When the door clicks, she knows Camilla has returned. She tenses involuntarily.

Camilla enters with Wulack, apparently in some heated argument. She attempts to close the door on his face, but he stops it with his foot.

“Youch! B-but Prince Camilla, we have already set our course for East Gorteau! And we do not have the supplies to make such a journey!”

“Captain Wulack, in this case the solution is painfully obvious. Just throw half of the ship’s population overboard.”

Wulack gawks.

“You’re either too soft-hearted or painfully stupid,” Camilla continues. “You could simply lend them a lifeboat or two. Then it would weigh less on your conscience. Are you happy now?”

Camilla walks away again, but Wulack has nothing else to say. He is escorted outside by one of Camilla’s guards. Peace returns to the Prince’s quarters. The remaining guards hastily hide their deck of cards. But Camilla’s attention is turned to Meryl’s, which she pairs with a face of disgust.

“Why is my sister still here?” she directs the question to her guards, who then look at her cluelessly.

“We were waiting for your return, Prince Camilla,” one responds.

“Does Cami have to do everything by herself?”

She frustratedly walks towards Meryl, heels clicking to alert her, and Meryl jolts when Camilla grabs Woble.

“Fine then,” Camilla continues, “I’ll kill her myself. Right now.”

“No!” Meryl shouts and tries to get away. In her frenzied movements, she slaps Camilla by accident. Two of the guards rush towards the commotion, while one yells into a radio.

“Prince Camilla has been assaulted!” he says, right before whispering a second announcement, “Code Red. Alert everyone.”

Elsewhere on the ship, Leorio scrambles from his seat. The radio he was holding almost crashes into the floor.

“Leorio!” a woman shouts. “We need to come up with a strategy first!”

But Leorio is long gone, having left the door to his room, their new base of operations, ajar. The woman sighs in exasperation as she and the two others run to catch up with him.

Chapter Text

How difficult is it to kill a baby? A toothpick to the throat, a small dose of cyanide, the force of a strong hand. It’s unbelievable how incompetent Wulack’s men are. Once again, Camilla takes it upon herself.

Nobody else does it like her. When she was merely Momoze’s age she had the most command of her mother’s private army. By the time she was sixteen, she built her own. She would always get out of her way to ensure her own success. She never needed to manipulate anyone or use her wits to their end, because she knew how to remind people of what was rightfully hers. As the Second Prince of Kakin, and as the only prince who was not distracted by petty things such as strength and hedonism, her will is always realized. Power is her birthright.

She realizes this now, while standing on the edge of the upper deck. It’s something she’s always mused about but never really said to herself with full conviction. Maybe she could indulge in the pleasure of victory, more than she’d normally allow herself to. Even though her fate had already been sealed, the little steps that take her closer to winning this war of succession, they echo along the sound of Marina Diamandis’s voice from her 2012 hit single Primadonna (always a favorite), pumping the blood in her veins with a wave of adrenaline and nostalgia.

It would be another grand moment. Not to celebrate the death of her sister, but to toast to her never-faltering will. Indeed, if she were any regular person, she would have mourned the loss of her greatest weapon yet: her personal military from the Have-Nots of Kakin. Or she would have stressed the sudden change from the Contest’s confined and controlled space to the wild and unpredictable world outside. But she’s always known better than anyone that there is no use mulling over losses. She has not lost her status, and her Nen ability renders her immortal.

In fact, she considers it a blessing. No more bothering with countless safeguards that keep her from going all out. She hates being held back more than anything, and now she can play by her own rules. With her sister in her arms and the cold, suffocating waters below them, it’s almost too easy.

Woble is quiet. She’s not a very loud baby, and hushing her down is a miniscule task. She looks at Camilla with eyes that resemble Oito’s a little too much. Familial ties have never meant anything to Camilla, but she finds it funny how they look nothing alike.

However, Camilla’s musings mustn’t be confused for hesitation. All those thoughts had passed her mind in less than a second. And it takes another thought, again lasting the same duration or less, to throw her baby sister overboard. 

When Leorio arrives, Camilla’s arms are empty.

Kurapika is awakened by a deafening roar. Everyone on the ship is alerted. Some of the crew scrambles towards the upper deck while the clinic personnel gather by the door. Kurapika’s guards were also distracted, so he takes advantage of the commotion.

Bolstering his Ren, Kurapika rushes out the door. He pays no mind to the people who ran after him.

When he arrives outside, everything is in chaos. His eyes gravitate towards a hideous Nen Beast where next to it Camilla and Leorio are caught in a wrestling match. For a moment, Leorio has the Prince pinned to the floor. But the Nen Beast has other ideas.

All of a sudden, Leorio weakens his hold. Camilla throws him off herself and Leorio’s back hits the railing.

“Leorio!”

Camilla’s head turns towards Kurapika. He rushes at her with a clenched fist. But Camilla, as she had just proven, is quite the adept fighter. She dodges Kurapika’s attacks with ease. After an exchange of missed punches and jabs, the annoyed Camilla finishes it with a knee to Kurapika’s stomach. The man is launched backwards several feet away.

Meanwhile, hidden away from the battle royale, one of Zhang Lei’s men, their leader, readies her aim. Once Camilla makes her Nen-infused knee attack, the woman named Damas shoots from her finger.

To Camilla’s surprise, she is once again restrained. She tries to escape from the net that wrapped her body, but her efforts were futile. Damas debuts her Hatsu, an Emitter ability that shoots an unbreakable net at a target, which not only physically restrains the target, but also forces them into a state of Zetsu. All of her life energy is used to strengthen the net, thus whenever it is active, she is also forced into a state of Zetsu. She can disable the net at any time, and only after six hours will her aura return. She calls this ability Tethering Gun: Together in Hell.

Now in a vulnerable state, Damas makes her escape. Meanwhile, Wulack’s men stare at Camilla in confusion. She had become motionless, but conscious, yet it looked like her body was tied by an invisible thread. The remnants of Zhang Lei’s men surround them, armed, and Wulack’s men have no choice but to surrender.

Kurapika, who was unhurt from Camilla’s kick, runs to an unconscious Leorio. “He’s fine,” Kurapika sighs with relief.

However, despite their victory, their allies were in low spirits. Meryl, who had escaped during the battle, cries out, “Prince Woble is dead!”

The growing audience gasps.

Kurapika is utterly shocked. Suddenly, the image of a boat in the midst of a storm rocks his memory to that of a drowning Woble, who was then immersed in blue before the sea had become red. From the child’s sockets, more blood rushes out. If Kurapika had been there right from the start, the child would not have fallen to the abyss. If Kurapika had been there right from the start, Pairo would not have…

How many people did he lose because he wasn’t around to save them? How many more lives has he become accountable for?

Kurapika suddenly falls to his knees. The friendly nurse immediately runs to him, but before they could get there, Kurapika vomits.

The deck is once again put in chaos by the aggravating news. How did the baby prince die? Where is her body even? Was it the work of these rebels?

Little by little, the crowd starts to grow. Not in numbers, but in size, it appears, as they get bolder in their decision to surround Kurapika and the others.

“Release Prince Camilla!” one of them demands. “And Captain Wulack and his men!”

The crowd shouts in chorus with a unanimous “Yeah!”

Kurapika, still in shock from the news he received, could do nothing but look at them with aggravated eyes. He does not realize why the crowd responds with shock, until he is greeted by all-too-familiar expressions.

“Those eyes!”

“It’s the devil!”

“It’s a monster!”

“Beast!”

None would think it was possible to become even more speechless. But Kurapika, at the moment, has nothing to say.

Ever since he was a child, he’d been taught to receive hatred. “Out there, they think we are demons for our eyes. They tell tales of sins they puppeteered us to commit.” The elders were nagging (and oh did he miss them), but it was the most important thing they have ever taught him. “But have they met a Kurta?” young Kurapika would ask. The answer would obviously be no. They’d been bullied into inexistence.

And what be the voice of someone who doesn’t exist? What be the voice of someone who had always been the villain in a children’s book?

It is the voice he has now, silent and uninspiring, for whether he defends himself or not will not matter. Should he speak up (should he still have the heart to), he would be an aggressor. Should he remain quiet, he would be a victim.

To him, it is reasonable to think that this is the end. Like the rest of the Kurta, he will die because of his eyes. His heart aches once again, to think that so many people find their eyes a treasure, yet in the same breath condemn them. The Scarlet Eyes are nothing but a curse, and those who covet them are ignorant, heartless beasts.

“He killed Prince Woble!” was the final straw.

Without a thought, he draws a breath and cries out, “Stop!” Everyone is stunned by the crack in his voice.

Kurapika stands up, wiping spew from his face, his eyes glowing a scarlet hue no other human in the ship has seen before. Leorio, who had returned to consciousness by then, fears for Kurapika. He’s being rash again. “Hey…” he tries to say, but everyone’s attention is turned to Kurapika, including Kurapika himself.

To Leorio’s surprise, Kurapika dons a calm composure. However, his Aura reveals his true feelings as a slow-moving fountain, an explosion of grief. Is he using Emperor Time…?

“This ship is under our control now,” Kurapika says. “We have the Second Prince Camilla and Captain Wulack hostage. If you don’t cooperate, another will die.”

Cooperatively, Zhang Lei’s men point their guns at the others, which makes them fearfully step back. Distrust has brewed between Zhang Lei’s allies and the civilians of the ship, though it may be the better alternative to convincing them that Camilla and Wulack are not as innocent as they seem.

With her net holding the Second Prince in place, Damas makes her escape. Her ability was perfect against Camilla. Unlike Leorio, who restrained her using his own body, Damas’s net is made of Aura completely detached from herself. The net cannot act as her En, and she cannot disable it from a distance. Therefore, it is impervious to the will of Camilla’s Guardian Spirit Beast.

Before the Black Whale sank, they got word of a strange encounter with Camilla. As Nen users, they’ve reinterpreted the story and concluded that her Nen Beast is activated by human contact. However, the range of its power is still unknown.

As discord continued to break out above, Damas scaled the sides of the rescue ship to hide in a room her team had prepared. When she shot her net, she ran to the port as it was closest to where she was hiding. However, the window to the room was all the way on the other side of the ship. The rest of the windows by the left side of the hull were closed, so she carefully trudged towards the starboard.

One would think this activity is unusual, and Damas, as a professional mountain climber, wholeheartedly agrees. But what is even more unusual is the presence of another person hanging by the side of the ship. And in this case, the “hanging” is figurative, for that very person appears to be rolling around in mid-air, waving her hands at the sea beneath her.

And that person is none other than Prince Woble herself, who busies herself in the company of a shape-shifting Nen Beast.