Dis Aliter Visum

Chapter 35

The first few days went by in a flash for Kurapica. Zaban wasn't a big town by any stretch of the imagination, and there wasn't all that much to do, certainly not like there had been in York Shin, but it was all right with the four of them. They hadn't seen one another since they had parted in York Shin eight months prior. There was a lot of catching up to do. At first, they had just hung around in their suite and in coffee shops, catching up on what had been going on in their lives. Kurapica spoke little, but he often caught both Killua and Leorio studying him quietly when they thought he couldn't see them.

Thursday afternoon, he was pretty desperate for some private time. He could have just locked himself in his room, but he had finished the book Kuroro had loaned him before he left and he didn't really want the others to come knocking on his door to get him to spend time with them. He loved them all, but he hadn't been able to just leave on his own and do his own thing in months, and he just had enough. He had been holed up in his room all morning, and when he came out, the other three looked up from a board game they had set up on the coffee table.

Leorio noticed he'd put a hoodie on and he asked, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah,” the blond replied. “Feeling a little cramped. I'm just going to try and find a library or something.”

“Geh,” Gon made a face and Kurapica chuckled softly.

“You should bring back a game that doesn't suck,” Killua said.

“Hey,” Gon pouted at him, “I like this game!”

“How can you like this game?!” Killua asked incredulously. “There's no soundtrack, no control, nothing. It uses dice and pieces for f–”

Leorio asked, “Do you want me to come with?”

Kurapica shook his head apologetically. “I haven't been able to just go somewhere on my own in months, Leorio.” He had a little smile. “I'll be back around dinner time, all right?”

The would-be doctor looked a little crestfallen, but he had the grace not to push him. “Okay,” he said and waved, “see ya tonight.”

“Later,” Kurapica said and made his way to the door.

“Kurapica,” Killua called out after him, “bring back a game. A game!”

The Kuruta chuckled and let the door fall shut, muffling the sounds coming from the other three. He breathed slowly in and out, then turned away and made his way to the elevators. The ever helpful clerk downstairs pointed him to the municipal library. He walked briskly, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie. The weather was sunny and spring was on the air. Kurapica took narrow streets that were only open to pedestrian traffic, enjoying the wind on his face and the sudden feeling of freedom he found himself with. He was nearly disappointed when he reached the library.

It was bigger than he had anticipated. He even managed to find a few books that seemed to focus on topics he'd heard of but not previously taken the time to read about. He selected a few that seemed particularly promising, and these he took back to a table so he could peruse them in peace. He opened the one on the top of his little pile and unzipped his hoodie, slipping his arms out of the sleeves as he started on the first paragraph. Two chapters in, he set the book aside. He'd had a long discussion on the subject with Kuroro after their visit to the planetarium and the volume wasn't teaching him anything new. The second book only had one chapter he was interested in and it only took him twenty minutes or so to go through it and skim the rest of the text in case something else caught his interest. He set it aside and picked up the third book in his stack.

He paused.

The Great Painters Of The Second Age was the title. Something he would never had previously read about. The painting used as an illustration on the cover was one he'd seen with Kuroro in Quedlin. He wasn't even sure why he'd decided to pick it up. Things were so, so messed up. He sat back in his chair and went through the book slowly. He wasn't reading. He just looked at each painting, one after the other, letting his thoughts wander back over the past seven weeks. At first, things had been so easy, so black and white. He hated Kuroro then, hated him with all of the rage he'd accumulated in the six years since his clan's massacre.