Work Text:
One. Learning a new language was the hardest part. Kurapika could read it, and understand it, but when you only have yourself for company there isn’t really a reason for words.
Two. Digging the graves for every member of his family was something Kurapika wouldn’t wish upon anyone.
Three. No one wanted to hire a twelve year old. Not legally that is. There are some jobs Kurapika wished he had never worked in, but he needed the money, and he would have done anything to get it
Four. In a small corner of the world sits a room owned by Kurapika where handwritten journals upon journals sit quietly, covered in thick dust, holding the stories and language of the Kurta clan. Kurapika knows he will one day forget, but hopefully, this is a way of remembering.
Five. Training for the Hunter Exam is all he can focus on. He runs for hours. Trains with his blades. His anger is just beneath the surface; he is a boiling pot that has been whistling for five years.
Revenge is a dish best served cold, but Kurapika isn't sure if he can wait.