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The hotel room’s ac clicked off as the night grew to match its setting. Kurapika sat in the dark, face lit up by a laptop screen and the single lamp sitting on the hotel’s desk. His eyes were growing weary as he scrolled clicked through his emails and hunter websites, trying to find leads. There were times when hunting down the eyes was a grim adventure, and others where boredom began to drill into Kurapika’s temples like a screw.
His phone chimed once. Kurapika’s eyes flicked between the cracked screen and his laptop. It had been days since he’d spoken to another person. Still, he knew what the text said without checking it.
Leorio had a habit of reaching out in the middle of the night an innocuous question like “you up?” A year or so ago, Kurapika would have snuck away from Izunabi’s camp to take a call from Leorio, but that felt like another world now. There would be no calls tonight. Instead, Kurapika flipped the screen over so he wouldn’t see any follow up texts, trying not to notice that it was four in the morning.
His stomach grumbled a complaint. He hadn’t eaten dinner, or even lunch, but it was too late now. What was the point of eating this late at night when he would be waking up in a few hours anyways for breakfast? Not that he often ate breakfast. Still, the words on the screen were starting to blur together, and he couldn’t find a good enough reason to skip sleep again.
Kurapika pushed away from the desk and stretched his arms above his head, feeling each vertebrae realign itself. The bed had been remade by the maid a morning or two before, so Kurapika grabbed the edge of the blanket to climb under the covers.
“Are you going to go to bed in that suit?”
Kurapika, startled, spun to face the window and reached for the pistol on his hip. Even exhausted, his body didn’t hesitate before jumping into action, only to realize it was Hisoka smiling at him from the window, holding a brown paper bag with an M on it. Kurapika huffed and holstered his weapon, wondering just how long the clown had been waiting to make his entrance.
“And without dinner?” Hisoka added, moving into the room and sitting at the desk.
The first time Hisoka showed up unannounced to one of Kurapika’s hotel rooms, Kurapika had instinctively attacked unarmed. Once Hisoka soundly disarmed him, it became clear that he didn’t intend to harm him.
What he did intend was beyond Kurapika. Still, there didn’t seem to be any harm in letting Hisoka bring him some fast food once in a blue moon. It was somehow easier to accept this strange ritual than Leorio’s persistent care. Maybe it was because there was no underlying pity.
Hisoka shook the bag one more time, breaking Kurapika’s train of thought. He was tempted to tell him to leave, but his stomach growled loud enough for both of them to hear. Without a word, Kurapika snatched the bag from Hisoka’s hand and moved to sit on the edge of the hotel bed.
“Skipping meals again?” Hisoka asked, amused.
Kurapika sneered around a mouthful of fries. “I don’t understand why you care.”
“I’m just curious,” Hisoka said, feigning hurt.
“Curious enough to feed me,” Kurapika murmured.
“It’s like feeding a stray cat I’ve stumbled upon. I just want to see what you do next,” Hisoka said, his amused smile returning, “Hard to do that if you’ve starved to death or been run over.”
Kurapika decided to ignore him, trying hard not to show any reaction on his face.
“It’s been awhile,” Kurapika said after a bit of silence.
“Oh!” Hisoka seemed pleased that Kurapika showed interest in his life for once. “I’ve been so busy! It’s been a fun few weeks. I have an update or two for you if you’re interested!”
Kurapika raised an eyebrow at Hisoka, and was about to probe further when his phone buzzed on the desk. Dammit, Kurapika thought, mentally kicking himself for not bringing the phone to bed with him. Hisoka picked it up between the thumb and forefinger, mindful of the broken glass. This wasn’t the first time he’d snooped.
“Oooh, a booty call?” Hisoka purred, delighted by what he found on the screen. Kurapika’s cheeks flushed the color of his eyes. There was no use in trying to take the phone back. Any game of keepaway with Hisoka would be far more humiliating than whatever it is Leorio had sent him.
“Hardly,” Kurapika said, trying to keep calm yet clearly bristling.
“Miss you, he says, with a little heart,” Hisoka continued, ignoring him. “How dear.”
Hisoka tossed the phone to Kurapika, who caught it and held it close to his chest.
“Should I leave?” Hisoka asked, eyes sparkling with amusement, “Far be it for me to interrupt.”
“He’s miles away at this point,” Kurapika huffed, shoving the phone into his pants pocket. The contacts were starting to burn his eyes as he avoided locking eyes with the clown.
“You should call him,” Hisoka said coyly, “He misses you. He said so.”
Kurapika gritted his teeth, “Our collaboration ended when I took Chrollo’s nen. I don’t need your help or advice.
Kurapika’s tone was stern and final, but Hisoka gave him a devilish smile in return.
“Of course you don’t, dear.”