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Being a Zodiac was exhausting. Leorio had assumed as much when he took the position, but it was really starting to wear him down. He could feel the knots forming in his back from hours of pouring over documents, trying to account for every hitch in their Black Whale plan. That was another thing. Being a Zodiac was boring. Insufferably boring. Part of Leorio wanted to get to his hotel room and go straight to bed, but there was a temptation to turn on the TV and find something on pay-per-view. Hell, it wasn’t his money. He might as well.
That was the plan until he spotted a manilla bubble envelope sitting outside his hotel room. He scowled at it for a moment before bending down to pick it up, thinking a second too late that it might have been a bad idea to pick up a strange package. The package had ‘WATCH ME’ written in broad, rectangular strokes, like one of those big, chisel edged sharpies. Considering he hadn’t been blown up, he turned the package over in his hand and shook it next to his ear. It didn’t sound dangerous, he decided as he brought it into his hotel room.
Leorio considered calling Cheadle, or maybe Kurapika, but his curiosity outweighed his caution. He tore open the sealed edge of the package and peered into it, unsurprised to find a black video tape. Well, he thought, he was going to watch a movie tonight anyway, and the hotel room had a VHS player. He set the tape at the mouth for a moment, hesitation continuing to needle him.
There could be anything on his tape, he realized. He grimaced, but he felt like he’d already gone too far. What would Cheadle say if he called her now and it was nothing? Leorio huffed, set the tape down, and went to write down the time he found the tape. It could be important if he needed to find out who dropped it off, and it was the least he could do.
With that finished, he popped the tape in and sat down on the bed with the remote in his hand. Leorio pressed the play button and white noise faded to a black screen. He stared at his own reflection for a long moment, wondering if maybe the tape had nothing on it. Just as he was about to stop the tape, a disembodied voice rang clear in the hotel room.
“This is a message for Kurapika of the Kurta clan.” The voice tickled his memory like a song from his childhood, but Leorio couldn’t place it, as if he’d forgotten the memory of the memory. His mouth tightened to a line. It was probably nothing. It only ended up in his room as a mistake, after all. Kurapika lived an entirely different life now, and there was no way Leorio would recognize something from it, he decided with some bitterness.
No, this was only at his door because someone had been watching Kurapika and saw him slip in and out of Leorio’s room in the middle of the night. Leorio wondered if Kurapika ever went to his own room. He often used Leorio’s shower, but did he go to his own room to sleep? The irritation continued to dig at him. Kurapika hid so much from him, and as much as Leorio wanted to be let in on the secret, this wasn’t how he wanted to do it. He pressed pause on the remote.
“The story you knew about your clan is nothing but a fabrication,” the voice continued. Leorio pressed the pause button again to no avail. It must be out of batteries, he decided, panic beginning to set in. He couldn’t listen to whatever this tape said before Kurapika. He couldn’t bear the burden of that information, whether it was true or not. He stood, approaching the VHS machine, and pressing the eject button repeatedly.
The screen wasn’t black anymore, Leorio realized with a glance. Instead, crime scene photos showed like a clip show. Disturbing images of headless bodies and bodiless heads flashed across the screens. People in Kurta garb, twisted painfully and staring with empty sockets. Leorio felt as if he were going to throw up. The machine didn’t respond to his panic.
“Your clan was slaughtered and had their eyes harvested for sale on the black market,” said the voice. Leorio knew this, and now he had seen it for himself. What was the point of this? His mouth felt dry.
“The Phantom Troupe is only guilty for one of these crimes.” Leorio’s mind raced, trying to figure out a way to shut it off. It was a lie. Maybe. He needed to get rid of it, or at least strip the visuals. Kurapika didn’t need to see this. “The village near your encampment in the Lukso Province burned the remains of your clansmen, but not to stave off disease or simply out of disrespect. They did it to hide the evidence of their crimes.”
Leorio spotted the RYW cord connecting the TV to the VCR and yanked hard, pulling the cord loose.
“They decapitated the bodies of your clansmen and scooped their eyes into fancy glass jars and sold them to collectors.” Still, the voice continued. Now, with gyo activated, Leorio could see why his efforts were fruitless. The tape was infused with nen, or maybe conjured. This was someone’s hatsu, and it had hit Leorio by mistake. He stood there helplessly, watching as the screen faded back to black.
“This does not absolve the Spider, but heaven forbid your task goes unfinished,” the voice finished, before the screen gave way to white noise. The tape ends, and is ejected with a click. He moved back to the edge of the bed and stared into space, unsure how to proceed. He would tell Kurapika, he decided. What other choice did he have? He took the hotel phone off the hook and held it to his ear.
“Leorio?” came Mizaistom’s voice on the other side of the line.
“Is Kurapika with you?” Leorio asked, voice hoarse. He was, thank God. The stubborn bastard never would have answered the phone. Kurapika, through Mizaistom, agreed to meet him in his hotel room, and all Leorio had to do was wait twenty minutes for the knock at the door. Leorio guided Kurapika in and sat him on the bed before slipping the tape back into the machine. He reached for Kurapika’s hand as he sat beside him, preparing for the worst, but Kurapika pulled away.
The white noise gave way to an opening theme. It was some kids cartoon from nearly thirty years ago. The characters flashed on the screen as the music played, and Leorio watched in horror as he realized that whatever evidence he had was gone. Erased by nen, probably.
“Leorio,” came Kurapika’s voice, confused but level, “What is the meaning of this?”
“I-” Leorio opened his mouth to speak, “I just wanted to show you this guy. Kind of looks like Gon, huh?”
The red character did strike a striking resemblance. He gives Kurapika a nervous smile, and Kurapika narrows his eyes for a moment, before letting his face relax. Kurapika even gave Leorio a small smile.
“I miss him too, but Mizai and I are very busy,” Kurapika said plainly, moving to stand. Leorio tampered down the offense he took. As if he hadn’t been busy with Cheadle.
“Yeah,” Leorio said, voice still tight, “Sorry.”
What was he supposed to say? What could he tell him? Kurapika was already headed for the door.
“I’ll come by later, okay?” Kurapika said, as he slipped out.
“Okay,” Leorio said weakly, with a forced smile and Kurapika disappeared with a click. Leorio’s face fell. He needed to find new evidence. Kurapika had to know. Maybe if he was careful, he could tell him some other way.