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The pain in his chest was unbearable, the water that used to give him life now nothing but a threat. The surface felt miles away as his arms did most of the work, his new legs feeling almost useless. And even as the surface broke, and the air filled his lungs in a way he'd never felt before, he couldn't stop moving.
The sea had already lost its meaning as his home, but never had it been so vast and terrifying before. But what had he expected really? That the Witch would drop him off right at the coast? He had been far too naive.
But there had been no place for logical thinking in Kurapika's mind. For six months he had hunted down that witch, swam through every last bit of the ocean to find her, swearing to himself he wouldn't stop until he'd found revenge. Revenge against the violent humans, the twisted two-legged land creatures that had robbed him of his whole world – simply for the colour of his people's eyes.
He could still recall it so well. Their bodies sinking slowly into the depths of the ocean, some of them more whole than others, but every single eye socket empty and dark. What else could he do, other than seek revenge and retrieve their eyes. He had to return them home. He was sure, that those exact eyes would provide him with the same strength and power they did in the sea even on land. He just needed to reach that land and find the humans responsible.
But as he desperately kicked and waved, trying to stay afloat, the extent of his naivety made itself clear. All power was draining from his muscles, he felt cold, colder than he ever had before. Was this really as far he'd get? He couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it. He needed to stay alive, if only long enough to avenge his people.
He wasn't sure when he had found some drifting wood to cling to, nor when a ship had come by, but there were loud voices, shouting sounds he couldn't understand as someone threw down a rope. His arms ached as he held onto it, clinging to it with every little bit of energy he had left.
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He was warm and dry. It would have been uncomfortable only a little while ago – but now it felt good. He shifted under the scratchy fabric that was covering him, surprised by the way his legs slid over each other. Two legs. He rolled his ankles, wiggled his toes – testing how it felt.
A soft voice spoke next to him suddenly, and he shot up. Next to him, almost close enough to touch if he reached out, a man was sitting, watching him. The human's hair and clothes were dark, but his skin was pale like the pearls his mother had worn around her neck.
The man spoke again, and the words didn't make any sense this time either. How would they? He'd never really heard humans speak close to him. All he knew now was that they were distasteful creatures with no sense of morality. How else could they have slaughtered his people?
More words came out, and Kurapika started to realise just how impossible his plan might really be. How would he ever be able to complete it within the time he'd been given if he was unable to even communicate? He backed up against the wall, trying to get as far away from the voice and the two-legged monster as possible, but the man was leaning forward, far too close for comfort and Kurapika wanted nothing more than to jump straight back into the sea.
But he couldn't. He never would again. The only thing waiting for him in his future was revenge – or death. That was his contract with the Witch, and there was no going back. To find the guilty ones, as well as the stolen eyes, he would need information from humans. He realised that, so he stayed still.
The man was waving his hand, saying something and then pointing at Kurapika now. It took a couple of more times to catch the word. "Chrollo." His name? It must be, his face clearly signalled a question as he pointed at Kurapika.
Kurapika opened his mouth, to try to voice his name above the water, but nothing came out. A stone settled in his stomach. He hadn't believed the Witch, what use would she have for it after all? But his voice was indeed gone. No matter how much he tried not a sound would come out. Not even when he tried screaming. Tears welled up in his eyes, but even his sobs were barely audible. The man's hands tried to touch him, but he swatted them off, pushing further back into the corner and letting the fabric become a shield between him and whatever world he was lost in.
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He wasn't sure how much time had passed – how did time even work above the water? But the man had left whatever room he was in and left Kurapika alone with his thoughts. He appreciated that, once he'd calmed down. Now the heavy door opened, the sound loud in the silence. The man came in, carrying something in his hands and speaking again. Again, Kurapika was almost surprised by how soft his voice was, making whatever he was saying sound gentle.
Still, he shied away when the man came closer and sat down on the bunk. The man only held out the bowl he was holding, again saying something. He repeated the same word a few times again and Kurapika understood he must be referring to what was on that plate. Food. He made sure to remember it.
He carefully reached out from behind the fabric and took the bowl. The man smiled at him. It didn't reach his eyes – they were still just as large and intense as always – but he… he looked nice. It confused Kurapika. All his life he had been fascinated by humans, interested in their world. But then their deeds had shown their true colours – what they were capable of – and filled Kurapika with hate.
But this man was being nice to him, and he was well aware his chances would already be over, was it not for this ship. So he accepted the kindness, even from a human.
The small amount of food in the bowl was all very dry, but the taste wasn't bad. It was far from anything like the fresh sea weed and even fish he was used to, but eating it made him realise just how starved he was. The man got up as he ate, and Kurapika watched him move inside the small room while chewing.
He leaned down and opened a chest, not unlike the one Kurapika had dragged home to his cave to store the things he found at the bottom of the sea. It was very similar, in fact. Out of it, Chrollo pulled more fabric, shaped for wearing, and returned to place them next to Kurapika. Were they for him?
Next he was suddenly given a cup of water, and it tasted sweet. Sweet water, that ran down his throat and made him feel physically better almost right away. So humans were as dependent on water as he had been? Then why did they destroy the beauty of the sea?
The man spoke again, and took the empty cup back. Kurapika really wished he could understand. Wished he'd picked up more words on his many hours watching humans from behind rocks. He took the pieces of fabric as they were held out again, unfolded them and looked at them. He could figure this out.
In the end it took some help, and the man had laughed this time. Kurapika wasn't sure if he should feel hurt, but it had sounded nice. He'd smiled back. And now his body was covered with more than just a scratchy blanket.
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The ship he'd been pulled aboard wasn't large. He'd seen much bigger ones sail above their home many times. Excluding him, there were a total of thirteen humans on board, and they all seemed very busy most of the time. The man who had been taking care of him seemed to be their leader, and he'd taken him around, telling him all of their names one by one. He managed to remember a few, but he knew he would never be able to say them out loud.
The man, Chrollo, showed him things to do, how to do them, and told him what they were called. He did the same with food and things around them. Even some of the crew made a habit of it, and over the next few days Kurapika memorised quite a lot of words. There was one man on the crew, with brightly coloured hair, as bright as coral, or the fish behind that one sunken ship, who never spoke to him. But Kurapika could feel him watching. When he'd look up, the man would only grin. It was rather unnerving, but he tried to ignore it.
He had been allowed to sleep in the same place he'd first been placed when they picked him up, though he had long since understood it must be Chrollo's bed. For two nights now, the man had rested in the chair not far away from the bed – though it wasn't clear if he actually slept. Either way, Kurapika had ended up feeling bad for imposing on him, on all of them. They might be humans, but they were being nothing but nice.
He knew they had tried to ask him questions, even if he didn't understand the words – but he'd been unable to give them anything. He was also unable to find out how long they would be sailing, how much of the little time he had to complete his revenge would pass before he even reached land. Where were they going, and why? Did he even stand a chance?
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It might have been on the fifth day that Chrollo came to get him from where he was scrubbing the deck. He gestured for Kurapika to follow him, and disappeared back into what he now knew was the 'Captain's cabin'. With Kurapika sitting on the edge of the bunk, the wood cutting into his legs, Chrollo placed himself in his usual chair, rummaging around on the table.
"I have an idea," he said, and Kurapika understood the first half. But he was listening just as intently as watching. Chrollo opened a small black bottle, and dipped what looked like a feather into it. Then he used it to paint something on a white sheet.
"Aah," he said, holding it up. On the paper there was a symbol, and pointing at it, he repeated the same sound. Then he wrote another symbol, repeating another sound. And then Kurapika understood. The man was trying to help him communicate without sound! A smile spread over his face and he sat up straighter, ready to take it all in.
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For the next two nights he had tried to take up as little space as possible, but the man hadn't moved from his chair. They spent the days practicing what he know knew was called 'writing', and somehow he'd barely worried about his revenge at all. He still knew nothing about these people, other than that the crew did anything the captain said. They all had their own quirks, but they were treating him well. How could some humans be this kind if others slaughtered innocent creatures like they were nothing?
The captain, Chrollo, liked the symbols he'd been teaching Kurapika a lot. He had countless 'books' with thousands of symbols in them. 'Stories', he'd said, and Kurapika had tried to read them. Even if he almost knew all the symbols now, most of the words made no sense.
But already he was able to communicate a little. He carried a few small pieces of 'paper' with him, together with a black stick that would let him write. It made it possible for him to write something when a nod or other gestures weren't enough. He kept learning new words, but sometimes it was quite hard to know what symbols to use. Often he thought about what symbols he would use to describe his own name, the names of his people, or their story. He wasn't sure. But he could try.
He started slowly writing symbols, one by one, testing them in his mouth without a sound coming out. He still had trouble remembering some, but after a little while he was quite sure it was correct enough. With it in hand he went to pull on the captain's sleeve.
"Kurapika?," he said, reading it out. Kurapika nodded, happy with how right it had sounded, and pointed at himself. "You're Kurapika?," he asked, and again Kurapika nodded. Again, the hurt and anger was far away, and he only found himself smiling.
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Again Chrollo stayed in the chair. It bothered Kurapika, he felt guilty. The captain had already stopped reading, turned off the small light and said 'good night' when Kurapika got up. He nudged the man, and when Chrollo said his name in a questioning tone he took the opportunity to pull on his arm. Somehow, it felt oddly embarrassing, but he stayed persistent. Chrollo expressed a few more wondering thoughts, said his name another time, but then he let himself be pulled out of the chair.
Kurapika moved as close to the wall as possible again, giving the captain all the space he could. Somehow, it was nice to feel the man's weight settle next to him, and even though he made himself as small as possible there was only the blanket around Kurapika separating them. Somehow, that didn't feel fair either, so he untucked it and placed half of it over Chrollo. The man was warm against him, and listening to his breaths was far more interesting than sleeping.
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After another few days, Kurapika was given a different view of the humans that shared their ship with him. There had been shouting, and rushing, and a large piece of fabric with a spider with twelve legs on it had been pulled up to the top of the mast. Then there was shooting and fighting.
He couldn't see, only hear, as there were no windows, and Chrollo had told him – ordered him – not to come out of the cabin. But the sounds were loud, and the screams terrifying. He knew what humans could do. He'd seen it, seen the bodies of his family. He knew he could possibly be of help, but none of the crew knew about his strength. Somehow it just felt safer to keep it secret – together with where he came from.
So he sat, back completely straight, on the bunk and just waited. Sometimes the sounds were louder, large booms and crashes, and sometimes it was almost quiet for seconds. Then finally the sounds stopped. Was it over?
A few minutes later the door finally pushed open, and Kurapika found himself rushing towards the captain. He threw his arms around the man's neck as he entered and pressed his face into his shoulder. "It's okay," Chrollo said, and Kurapika nodded without letting go. Soon, he felt warm arms around his back.
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His days passed with cleaning, helping with preparing the little food they had, or sometimes even playing games with the crew members. He noticed now that they all seemed to have the same spider symbol somewhere on their body. He still hadn't seen one on the captain however, only the cross on his forehead, usually hidden by fabric.
When not kept busy by this he practiced reading and writing. There were a lot of books in the captain's cabin, and most of them were far too hard for him to understand. But somehow, he felt like there would be information tthat could be important for him in them, so he kept trying. He asked for help with words, and the captain, who often spent even more time than Kurapika reading, didn't seem to mind helping him at all. More so, he seemed to enjoy it.
Sometimes Kurapika found himself forgetting to read, and watching the captain instead. Watching the way his grey eyes moved over the lines with a speed Kurapika could only dream of. The way the light from the lamp flickered on his face, and how he never seemed too cold to keep his coat open. He found himself wishing he would succeed in his revenge, not only for the sake of his family, but for a chance to see more of this man.
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He sometimes woke with an arm swung over him, and it quickly became his favourite kind of morning. The kind when he woke up alone was much less pleasant.
The weather had been much warmer lately, and he'd slept without a shirt. Pulling it back on he exited the small cabin, only to almost crash into the captain.
"Kurapika," he said, and Kurapika looked up. "Shalnark said we'll reach land in a few more days." Yet again Kurapika was smiling, hope spreading inside him as he understood what most of the words meant. Reaching land was only the first step, but it was a big one.
He hoped he had learned enough, he hoped his plans were even possible. He hoped he would survive. He hoped he could one day tell Chrollo the truth.
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There were only a couple of days left, and somehow Kurapika found it impossible to concentrate only on preparing for his revenge. Well, there was a lot of things to do, so he was kept busy either way, but instead of planning, thinking of possibilities and chances, he found himself thinking only of the Captain.
So was it really odd that he was openly staring instead of reading? So odd that the captain had to stare back?
Chrollo closed his book on the table, and moved over to sit next to him. Kurapika's eyes followed him the whole way, and he didn't move, even as Chrollo sat down so close to him that their sides were touching.
"Do you know what a 'kiss' is?," he asked, and Kurapika only shook his head. "Do you want to know?" He nodded.
And Chrollo's hand tilted his face and his face came so close and ––oh, so that's what that word meant, he thought as the man's lips moved over his. He knew kisses, never like this, but merpeople kissed too. He knew what it meant, and a warmth spread inside him.
His hands grasped Chrollo's coat, pulling him closer, to make sure that the man knew not to end it. That he knew just how much Kurapika wanted it.
His breath quickened fast, the air around them becoming hotter. Chrollo's lips moved, kissing his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. The tunic was pulled over his head and their lips met again, Chrollo's hands sliding up his chest. He pushed and pulled on Chrollo's coat, and the man laughed against his lips. As soon as the coat was gone Kurapika found himself pushed down, the warmth of the other man so much stronger on top of him than next to him. It was hard to breathe evenly, but he never wanted to let go.
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And so land was sighted, still hours away, but Kurapika knew he was about to leave. 'I need do something', he'd written. 'Come back when done'. He knew the ship might have sailed a long time ago when that day came, but he wanted to hope. Wanted to hope that he'd see Chrollo again.
Chrollo had nodded, held him and kissed him. Then he'd packed a bag, with more clothes, some dried food they still had left and an empty book together with a piece of coal. Kurapika nodded and smiled, kissing the man thank you. The coast felt all too close.
The ship docked, the crew went off, and Kurapika finally let go of the captain. Gave him one last kiss.
"Wait outside, Kurapika," Chrollo said, standing up and heading to the chest. Kurapika nodded and exited, leaning against the railing just outside. The sky was blue and the sun was shining, and the town they had arrived at was bustling with life. He was sure he would be able to find something here. There had been so many pairs taken, someone had to know something. Things looked quite promising. He would be back. And then he'd tell Chrollo everything. Somehow, asking this crew had never been an option. He didn't want to involve them in his problem, they were too kind to have to deal with it. But he would tell them, when everything was over.
"I have something for you," Chrollo said as he came out. "It's half of the most beautiful thing I own," he continued, and Kurapika had to think to process the complicated words. He wasn't sure he understood, but he nodded, he wanted to hear more.
"I had more, but I sold the rest. I hope this gives you luck in whatever it is you need to do."
Kurapika nodded, confused, but curious.
And then Chrollo held out his hand, letting the contents dangle from his fingers in front of Kurapika.
And every single hair on his body rose on edge, his blood running cold and his breath stopping at once. Within an instant he felt the burning sensation and wave of power as his eyes turned red as the blood his teeth brought forth on his lips.
Red as the single scarlet eyeball, contained in a small glass bottle, that was dangling from his beloved captain's hand.
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