Chapter Text
This is not something either of them would have anticipated.
The Judgement Chain was conceived to confine rampage and reside as an invisible vigilante; an ever-faithful reminder of the consequence’s of the captive’s actions, felt with every pinprick of a dagger’s point that synchronized with the beat of one’s heart.
That was what Chrollo felt upon the intrusion of the cold, conjured chain into his chest. The metallic rings wrapped snugly around his heart and laid their heavy burden, imbuing his every breath with a small, albeit sharp, pain.
But pain is something to which he is well accustomed, and so an impassive tolerance was quickly built. Walking in the now fog-laden Meteor City; noting as souls escape the bodies that held them to his left and his right; thieving for sustenance absentmindedly, it becomes very easy to forget about the foreign object that made a home for itself around an already benumbed heart.
He wouldn’t truly mind it if he still could use his nen.
A sigh escapes him and he takes a bite from an apple. His teeth hardly sink into the juicy flesh before his eyes widen and he loses cognition on his surroundings.
A sharp, searing jolt seizes his heart, forcing it out of rhythm and stealing his breath. Chrollo clutches his chest and trembles at the vicious attack. The apple has long since tumbled out of his hand and onto the dusty ground, and his knees soon fall alongside it as he heaves and wills the pain away.
When it passes, he remains in stagnant shock, his apt mind processing the unprecedented attack and concocting theories.
Chrollo stands, a frown twisting his face.
His heartbeat regains an even tempo, but there is an unmistakeable heaviness that now burdens every pump of blood. The change is more than disconcerting.
Is it something transient? An indication of a disease? Has death decided to impose itself upon him with a taunting presence, rather than the passive company it has always offered?
His logic points him one way, but his intuition reminds of a conjured chain.
An image of two vehement, scarlet eyes manifests in his mind and ignites his curiosity as he makes his way to a temporary home.
Chrollo tested for a variety of diseases, and the results all turned out negative.
When science and medicine fail to provide him with answers, he turns to his books. He skims through many texts with an index tracing his progress, and when the sun descends down the horizon, he lights candles and continues his dutiful research.
It’s around midnight when he finds what confirms his suspicions, and his finger stills.
Chrollo reads the words under his breath.
“Nen, being a manifestation of a person’s essence, carries with it not only the bearer’s will, but also their feelings, thoughts, and states of being. Should the aura become an occupant of another person, all of the above will be relayed in real time, depending on the intensity of their manifestation.”
His eyes glaze over in consideration and he closes the book, the light ‘thump’ resounding in the eerily quiet premises.
“Hm…”
He lies on his back, a shadow falling onto his face, absently watching his surroundings dance to the faint shimmer of a flickering candle.
“So you and I are connected?” he muses quietly to himself. “Or rather… I’m connected to you.”
He closes his eyes and tries to discern the presence around his heart with this new thought in mind, curious above all else to know what it is like to be linked to another person on such an intimate level; eager to experience what many of the books he read as an adolescent had idealized.
And he tries on his tongue the name he has hitherto never spoken.
“Kurapika…”