Archive of Our Own

Kurapika was sitting by the lake, staring at the ripples in the water as he threw the stones in, one after another and another. He looked at the map in his hand, looked up at the trees, and back again.

He was most definitely lost.

Evankhell Forest, the map had said. The road was supposed to have ended hours ago, and yet he was still in the middle of nowhere.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Threw another stone.

Fuck this.

He got up, stashed the map in his bag, and continued walking. He’d walk until sundown—If he couldn’t get out of the forest, the only way forward was through.

Something shifted behind him. He stopped in his tracks.

“Hey,” he said. “You’ve been following me for hours. I think you can come out now.”

A bush slightly ruffled. Kurapika clenched his fist.

“If you don’t show yourself,” he said slowly, “I’ll make you.”

There wasn’t a single noise. Kurapika sighed, and continued walking.

If this was going to be an ambush, so be it. If this person had made it that obvious that they were following him, they probably weren’t going to be that big of a deal, power-wise.

“Kurapika,” a familiar voice whispered.

His head whipped around. There was no one behind him. This wasn’t the first time something of its kind had happened.

This forest… Kurapika suppressed a shiver. There was something strange going on here.

He hadn’t seen or heard any birds or insects for hours. Just raw, intense silence, the suffocating presence of the trees, and the thick, nauseating air that weighed down on his lungs. The forest’s darkness was encroaching on him, pressing all around and squeezing, little by little.

Soon it would be sunfall, and Kurapika wasn’t sure how he was going to continue, then. It was almost comforting to know that there was someone following him—if he’d been all alone, he probably would’ve been slightly more afraid.

Kurapika had reached the end of the road. There were no paths in sight. The sun was slowly approaching the horizon—the light was quickly running out. He was definitely stuck now.

He slowly turned back around, and met with a familiar figure standing right in front of him. He’d almost thought he was hallucinating.

“You’re the one who’s been following me?”

Machi raised a steely eyebrow. “I can’t believe you’ve been walking one straight path the entire way through.”

Kurapika frowned. “I haven’t. There’s been forks in the path that I’ve taken.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t once gotten off. What hope did you have of getting out, if you were never gonna go off the trail?”

“Then why were you following me, anyway?” He looked her up and down. “I doubt you were planning to ambush me.”

“Satchell Forest is bordering the outskirts of Meteor City,” Machi said. “I was confused when I saw you coming here, so I followed you all the way to see what you were up to. This place is notorious for eating unknowing travellers up—only Meteor City inhabitants are able to navigate Satchell.”

Satchell Forest. His suspicions were correct—he’d entered a completely different forest, somehow. “So you were going back to visit your home?”

Machi frowned. “Not exactly. I just happened to be here.”

As if.

“Well, I need to get out of here,” Kurapika said. “I was supposed to go to a different forest, and I entered this one by mistake.”

Machi tilted her head. “Who said I was gonna help you?”

“Who said that was a request? I could easily make you do it.”

Machi eyed the chains on his hand. “Well, I’m not that cruel. Of course I’ll help you, but on one condition.”

Kurapika’s eye twitched. “Excuse me?” She had some nerve.

“Tell me one of your abilities,” Machi said. “One for each finger, right? I’ll let you pick the one you wish to reveal.”

Kurapika rolled his eyes, immediately turning on his heel. “I’ll find my own way out.”

“It’s impossible.”

“Then I guess I’ll just never leave this place.”

“You’ll be left for dead.” Behind him, Machi took a step forward. “You felt it, didn’t you? This forest isn’t normal.”

Kurapika stopped in his tracks. “Then why don’t you tell me what you’re really here for?”

“I was genuinely just curious about what you were doing here.”

“Do you really think I’m falling for that?” The Dowsing Chain on Kurapika’s hand, outstretched in front of him, shifted a little—a sign of half-truth.

Machi fell silent for a moment, then sighed.

“There’s a place in Satchell Forest that I came to visit,” she said, her voice taking on a slightly anguished tone that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Kurapika. “I visit it regularly every year. As a matter of fact, we’re pretty close to it right now. So you can rest assured that I’m not going for your head.”

The Dowsing Chain didn’t move. Kurapika clenched his fist.

“I need to get out of here,” he repeated. “I’m not going to reveal my ability to you, but I’ll need your help, regardless.”

Machi let out a light scoff. “You think you can just earn it for free?”

“It’s already taking everything in me not to just kill you right now,” Kurapika said slowly. “Please don’t test my patience.”

Machi’s aura spiked slightly. “As if you had the ability to.”

Kurapika swallowed, struggling to get his bloodlust under control. He refused to take the bait—she’s just trying to provoke you.

“I’ll let you decide on a different condition,” he said. “I’ll fulfill it in exchange for your help.”

“Nice try,” Machi said coldly. “Tell me one of your abilities, or you’re never getting out of here. I already know about Judgement Chain, so you’ll have to choose something else.”

Kurapika clenched his jaw.

“If I tell you,” he said icily, “you’ll tell the other members, won’t you?”

“Who knows?”

It seemed there was no other way, then.

“Okay,” Kurapika said. “I’ll do it.”

Kurapika didn’t spare a single second. He turned around and wrapped his chains around her with Chain Jail, instantly imposing Zetsu on her.

Machi looked like she’d expected it, and calmly stared at him.

“This is Chain Jail,” Kurapika said. “It imposes Zetsu on anyone imprisoned within it.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Kurapika tightened his chains, relishing in Machi’s slight wince.

“Are you going to help me get out of this forest, or not?” Kurapika said, scarlet eyes burning behind his contacts. “If your answer is ‘no’, I’ll kill you right now.”

“Relax,” Machi said. “I’ll help. You already know neither of us will actually kill each other, since I didn’t bother defending myself against your attack at all. And you clearly need my help to get out of here.” She let out a light huff of laughter. “I’m willingly letting you impose Zetsu on me. Isn’t that proof enough that I’ll help you?”

Kurapika glared at her, and those piercing blue eyes stared right back at him, completely unshaken.

“I killed two of the Troupe,” he said.

“And I’ll never forgive you for it.”

“You shouldn’t be willing to help me at all.”

Machi looked a little annoyed now. “I don’t ever go back on my word. Even if you’re someone that I’ll hate to the end of time.”

There was a long moment where the two of them said nothing, and just stared at each other in the silence of the forest.

Kurapika slowly released his Chain Jail. Machi looked a little surprised when he did it.

“I made a contract to only use Chain Jail against members of the Troupe,” he said. “If I use it against anyone else, I’ll die.”

Machi smoothed out the wrinkles in her shirt, and looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“Follow me,” she said. “I have something to do first, but we’ll get out of the forest soon after.”

They’d been off the trail for what felt like hours now. The sky was getting darker and darker, and Kurapika was starting to see the first few pinpricks of starlight.

“I sure hope you’re not kidnapping me somewhere,” Kurapika said, watching Machi’s back carefully.

Machi didn’t sound amused. “Kidnappings really did happen all the time here. Meteor City children would come here to play, and human traffickers would pick them off like flies one by one.”

Kurapika shouldn’t have made that comment.

“This forest is sacred to us,” she continued. “But those bastards soiled this place for years with their inhuman deeds. The kidnappings don’t happen anymore, but no one ever comes here now, either. No one ever will. Meteor City has abandoned Satchell Forest.”

The sound of their footsteps crunching on fallen leaves punctuated the subsequent silence between them. The forest was almost becoming pitch-black.

“You said the place you wanted to visit was close to where we were before,” Kurapika said, “but we’ve been walking for hours now.”

Machi clicked her tongue. “A couple of hours is close. You have no idea how big this forest is.” She paused. “Why? Are you scared, chain user?”

Kurapika glared at her back, hoping she could feel it. “I’m just confused—how are we going to continue walking in the night? It’s almost completely dark now.”

“We’re not,” Machi said. “I’m leading you to a clearing in the forest. We’ll rest there until sunrise, then continue our journey from there.”

Kurapika couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. “I thought we would be getting out of the forest on the same day.”

“Well, I’m helping you, aren’t I? Your complaining isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

Machi’s footsteps abruptly slowed, and Kurapika nearly crashed into her back.

“Kurapika,” Machi said, using his name for the first time. “There’s someone up ahead.”

Kurapika’s blood ran cold. He hadn’t sensed an aura at all. It was impossible to see anything ahead, too.

“How can you tell?”

“Just a hunch.” Machi paused. “The clearing’s just a few minutes away. Whoever is ahead is probably waiting for us there.”

“You seem pretty calm about this.”

Machi shrugged. “They’re probably from Meteor City, too, if they had the ability to come all the way here. I’ll never be scared of another one of us.”

“Then how do you know that they’re waiting for us?”

Machi looked back at him. “Just a hunch.” She poked her needle through Kurapika’s sleeve, attaching a thread of her Nen string. “This will help make sure you don’t get lost—it’ll get hard to see even within a few inches in front of you soon. The clearing will have some moonlight there, so it won’t be completely dark throughout the night.”

She cracked a small smile when Kurapika didn’t respond. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Kurapika frowned. He couldn’t deal with darkness very well—never had ever since he was a kid—but Machi didn’t have to know that. “Just keep walking.”

“You can hold onto me if you’d like.”

“Just keep walking.”

Kurapika could hear the smirk in her voice. “Okay, okay, I won’t tease you anymore.”

Kurapika sulked as they continued walking through the dark, positioning himself slightly closer to Machi than before. This day was turning out to be more and more embarrassing. How did he even end up in this situation? First, walking into a completely different forest; and second, having to rely on help from a Spider, who now knows one of his abilities and the fact that he’s a little scared of the dark?

Slowly, the path in front of him started to become more and more clear. Before he knew it, they arrived at the clearing Machi had mentioned, silvery moonlight filtering through the trees and a small river streaming through the middle.

Someone else stepped out of the shadows, and Kurapika couldn’t stop the curse that slipped out of his mouth.

Hisoka smiled at the two of them, twirling a card between his fingers.

“Why wasn’t I invited to this lovely hangout?” he said, yellow eyes gliding slimily between the two of them. “In such a fun place, too.”

“Hisoka,” Machi said, vaguely in disgust. “What the hell are you doing here?”

A wave of nausea rolled over Kurapika when he realised something, then. Machi’s eyes widened slightly, as she realised the same thing.

“You’re the one who’s been following me since I entered this forest,” Kurapika said. “You’ve been following us both.”

Hisoka hummed. “I couldn’t help it. I absolutely loved the moment when Machi finally revealed herself… it was almost orgasmic.”

Machi’s lip curled in a grimace. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Hm? I’m not up to much.” Hisoka pocketed his card. “I spotted dear Kurapika entering this forest with Machi following soon after, and thought it would be worthwhile to go in with you guys.” His eyes glimmered in unfiltered delight. “Mind if I tag along on your little trip?”

Machi folded her arms. “I don’t want you going anywhere near where I plan to visit. I don’t want you anywhere near me right now, in fact.”

Hisoka tilted his head, his expression morphing into the calculative one he always wears before he’s about to intentionally provoke someone. “I’m completely harmless, Machi. Kurapika, on the other hand, has killed your two precious friends.” ‘Why’s he allowed to tag along with you?’ went unspoken.

Machi didn’t seem fazed. “We’ve made a deal with each other. You, on the other hand, have absolutely nothing to offer me.”

Hisoka pouted a little. “What a shame. And here I thought I’d be able to kill some time before my fight with Chrollo.”

Machi visibly tensed, then.

“Your fight?” she said quietly. “When?”

Hisoka’s eyes widened somewhat, his lips twitching up. “You mean he didn’t tell you?”

“Your fight,” she repeated. “When?”

Hisoka smiled. “Chrollo told me you guys knew about it already,” he said, his grin widening when Machi bristled. “I guess he lied… or maybe he didn’t tell you specifically.”

Machi looked like she was seconds away from beating the living daylights out of the man in front of her.

“Well,” Hisoka said, “I’ll tell you if you let me join you two.”

Machi shot a sharp look at Kurapika, who startled a little. “Chain user,” she said. “You know about this, don’t you?”

Kurapika looked at Hisoka. He was still looking happily at Machi.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “I do.”

Machi now shifted all her previous bloodlust right onto Kurapika, Hisoka jerking up in excitement when her aura substantially spiked.

“Tell me everything,” she said through gritted teeth, “or I’ll leave you for dead in this forest. And that’s a promise.”

Hisoka finally looked at Kurapika now, his expression shifting a little. It was obvious Hisoka had wanted something like this to happen, from the way he was practically brimming with pleasure. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with the intense look Hisoka was casting his way—did he actually expect him to keep quiet about what he knew?

“It’ll be at Heaven’s Arena, if I remembered correctly,” Kurapika said, Hisoka visibly deflating as he did so. “November 25th.”

“Heaven’s Arena?” Machi frowned. “Who picked the venue?”

“It was Chrollo,” Hisoka said, looking a little bored now. “He decided everything—the date, the venue, the time, whatever. I went along with everything he said.”

Machi’s bottom lip caught between her teeth. “When was all this discussed?”

“Mm… about a month ago?” Hisoka said, pleased by Machi’s visible disappointment. “He said he was taking the time from then until November 25th to prepare for our fight. I assume it means that he’s going around collecting abilities.”

“No wonder he’s been uncontactable,” Machi said.

“Look,” Kurapika cut in, “I could care less about all this. I’m going to get ready to sleep.” He put his bag down and laid out his sleeping bag, ignoring the chill that was slowly penetrating his bones from the cold night air. “If you two are going to continue this conversation, I suggest you take it elsewhere.”

Hisoka laughed. “Oh, Kurapika,” he said, “there’s no way that little sleeping bag can warm you up enough throughout the night. It gets really cold all the way out here.”

Machi hummed in agreement. “He’s right,” she said. “It won’t help at all.”

“What do you suggest I do, then?”

Machi took her needle out from Kurapika’s shirt and started weaving. It took her just slightly less than fifteen seconds to make an entirely new hammock, hanging it between two trees. “My Nen stitches are warmer than your bag,” she said. “You can sleep in here for the night.”

Kurapika eyed it doubtfully. “What about you?” he said. “You can only make one, since the threads will break once they leave your fingers.”

Machi shrugged. “I’ll just sleep on the ground. I’m from Meteor City—I’ve lived in worse conditions.”

Kurapika’s stomach twisted. She wasn’t supposed to be going the extra mile for him. She shouldn’t.

“No,” Kurapika said. “You can sleep in your own hammock. At least I have my sleeping bag.”

“I could sleep in your bag instead of the ground, if you’re feeling guilty about it,” Machi offered.

“No, I’ll be fine. Seriously.”

Machi raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never experienced Satchell nights. They’re really brutal, you know.”

“I’ll survive.”

Hisoka let out a light chuckle. “How cute,” he said. “You don’t want to bother her.”

Kurapika glared at him. “And you’re just going to freeze on the ground, too?”

“It’s sweet that you’re worried about me, Kurapika, but I can handle the cold just fine. You’re the most vulnerable one here.”

He didn’t like the way he’d phrased it at all. He laid down on his sleeping bag stubbornly, shutting his eyes. “Whatever,” he mumbled, already shivering. “I’m sleeping.”

“Goodnight, Kurapika~”

There was rustling as Machi wordlessly got into her own hammock. Sleep took Kurapika soon after.

Kurapika woke up in the middle of the night, the full moon hanging right over him. It was eerily quiet, save for Machi’s quiet, even breathing. Hisoka, asleep, was sitting straight up and leaning against the trunk of the tree, looking completely comfortable in that absurd position.

Kurapika had woken up for only one reason—he was fucking freezing.

His toes were shivering violently, and it felt like his blood had turned to ice. His heart was pumping absurdly fast, but not even the blood in his body could warm him up, freezing over before they could even make it to his fingertips.

He slowly sat up, and instantly regretted it. The moment the blanket slipped off of him, he was immediately subject to the biting air of the cruel forest, eating into him and digging under his skin, and it hurt so much that he could think about nothing else. He’d almost lost all feeling in his limbs.

The hammock swayed a little. Machi had woken up, sitting upright and squinting at him in the darkness.

Wordlessly, she shifted to the side a little. Kurapika didn’t think—he couldn’t. He quickly slid into the hammock, sighing in relief at how good the heat emanating from her Nen threads were.

“I told you it was going to be cold,” she murmured.

Kurapika buried his face in the hammock, squirming around so that all parts of his body were in contact with it, relishing in the heat. “You were right.”

Machi let out a soft hum in response.

Kurapika looked up, and found Hisoka across from them, still sleeping in that ridiculous position. “How does he do that?” he said.

“Maybe his aura warms him up enough,” Machi mused. “Or it could be because he’s from Meteor City, too. We’re too used to the cold.”

Kurapika stiffened. He’d had his suspicions, given how Machi had said only Meteor City inhabitants could navigate this place, but… “I didn’t know that.”

“Yup. I’ve known him for a while now. He’s said before that he sleeps the best when he’s sitting up.”

He turned back around.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What’s your relationship with him?”

Machi eyed him suspiciously. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

Kurapika tensed. “What do you mean?”

Did she—no way—

Machi blinked. “You’ve had sex with him, haven’t you?”

Kurapika wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Taking too long to respond had basically confirmed it for her. Machi laughed softly. “It’s obvious, you know,” she said. “That time I saw you guys at the basement of that hotel, and now with the painfully obvious tension—”

“Please stop talking,” Kurapika said, heat creeping up his neck. “It won’t happen again.”

“Maybe,” Machi said, clearly unconvinced.

“What about you?”

“You’re asking me if I’ve had sex with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously?” Machi said plainly. “Of course not. I’m a virgin.”

Kurapika’s mouth dried. “Oh.”

“What’s with that reaction? Are you shocked?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” Kurapika said, shifting uncomfortably. “I guess.”

Machi’s face was a little too close to his now. “Why?”

“I always thought you and Hisoka were…”

“He tries. But it never works on me.” She paused, like she was searching for something in Kurapika’s expression. “So. You’re into men?”

Kurapika recoiled reflexively. He’d never imagined having a late-night conversation about his sex life with one of the Spiders before. “Not specifically. I’m okay with anyone.”

“Hm.” Machi shifted on her side, such that she was resting her head on her hand, elbow digging into the hammock as she looked down at Kurapika. “I can move over to your sleeping bag, if there's not enough space here.”

The abrupt change in subject did nothing to help his nerves. “There’s more than enough space. And I'd feel bad about it,” he said. “Just stay.”

Machi sighed. “You're really such a prideful man, you know.”

Her arm brushed against Kurapika’s as she laid back down, staring up at the sky.

“I don't want Chrollo to fight that clown,” she said.

“Why not?”

“There’s a very real chance he'll die.” Machi frowned. “And he knows that. I don't get why he's going out of his way to amuse this twisted man.”

Kurapika snuck a glance towards Hisoka, who was still peacefully sleeping. Or he could be awake by now, and was simply just pretending otherwise.

“From what I know,” Kurapika said, “Hisoka helped to exorcise Chrollo. Maybe he's agreeing to the fight to thank him for the favour.”

Machi looked like that statement ticked her off even more. “Yeah, of course I know that. But he acts like the rest of the Troupe hadn't been fervently helping him, either,” she grumbled. “Why does Hisoka get special treatment?”

Kurapika made an extremely astute observation, then: “You're jealous.”

“Of course I am.” Machi didn't even try to deny it. “He's always gone out of his way to make concessions for that stupid clown. It's getting almost ridiculous, at this point.” She shifted frustratedly, the hammock swinging wildly as she did so. Her anger was seeping into her Nen threads and making them hotter—Kurapika was internally grateful for her emotional state right now. The feeling was finally starting to come back to his limbs. “All of this could've been easily avoided if Chrollo had just refused to let Hisoka into the Troupe from the start. He was always different from the rest of us—it doesn't take a smart person to figure out that he spells bad news.”

If Hisoka hadn't joined the Troupe, Kurapika likely wouldn't have been able to accomplish as much as he did back in Yorknew. But, in an exercise of tact, he chose to keep quiet about that.

The threads were getting hotter and hotter, to the point where it was almost burning through Kurapika’s skin now. “I can't believe he didn't even tell me about the fight,” Machi continued. “I bet some of the others already know by now. He's always not telling me things.” Her eyes turned a little sad, then. “If Paku were here, she'd tell me about it instantly. Uvo, too.”

Kurapika froze a little. Machi looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“I really will never forgive you,” she said quietly.

Kurapika, enraged, sat straight up in the hammock, glaring down at her. “You guys murdered my entire clan.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’ll never forgive you for killing my friends.”

Kurapika tried getting out of the hammock, but instantly regretted it when his feet touched the freezing cold ground. Machi pulled him back inside. He squirmed to get away, but her arms were wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t be stupid,” she hissed. “You’ll freeze to death if you go back out.”

“I’d rather die than be anywhere near you.”

Machi’s grip instantly loosened, cold hair hitting Kurapika’s waist as he broke out of her grasp.

“Fine,” she murmured, turning on her side so that her back was facing him. Her voice took on an icy, detached tone. “Suit yourself. I’ve been too nice to you the entire time, anyway.”

Kurapika scoffed as he swung out of the hammock, ignoring the icy cold air that he was instantly exposed to. “You act like you’re not just going to expose my ability to the rest of the Troupe once I’m out of the forest.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Machi said, and Kurapika chose to ignore her painfully sincere tone as he crawled back into his sleeping bag, trembling like a leaf.

“Stop talking,” he said, his quivering voice making him sound a lot less threatening. “You make me sick.”

Machi went quiet for a while. Kurapika swallowed hard and closed his eyes, but the lump in his throat refused to go away.

“Hisoka,” Machi said, “you can stop pretending you’re asleep now.”

Kurapika’s eyes snapped open, and Hisoka had somehow materialised near him, crouching right beside his form. He was staring at Machi. “I only woke up a minute ago. Imagine my surprise when I saw the two of you sleeping side by side. How cute.” Hisoka’s eyes slid over to Kurapika. “Why don’t you go back to Machi? This sleeping bag is hardly adequate.”

“Shut up.” Kurapika turned away, back facing Hisoka. “I don’t want to be anywhere near either of you.”

“Hm…” Hisoka stood up. “Now that I’m awake, it’ll be hard for me to fall back asleep. Why don’t we play a little game?”

“No,” Machi deadpanned.

“Aw,” Hisoka said, “you’re no fun, Machi. What about you, Kurapika?”

“No,” Kurapika deadpanned.

“You’re both so boring. ♥︎”

“Just go back to sleep,” Machi said. “I’m tired.”

“But you two are arguing, aren’t you?” Hisoka looked between the two of them, amused. “We could easily resolve this little conflict with the game I have in mind.”

Kurapika’s eyes narrowed. “How much did you hear?”

“Starting from the part where you’re talking about Chrollo giving me special treatment,” Hisoka said, his grin widening when Machi visibly tensed. “Come on, Machi. Kurapika. I doubt either of you are going to get much sleep, anyway.”

Kurapika slid further into his blanket, keeping silent. If he ignored Hisoka long enough, he would eventually give up.

Kurapika almost couldn’t believe his ears when Machi clicked her tongue. “Fine,” she said. “What’s it about?”

Hisoka laughed lightly. “Never have I ever.”

“Ever what?”

“It’s the name of the game, Machi.”

“Oh. What’s it about?”

Kurapika and Hisoka both stared at Machi incredulously, who blinked slowly back at them. “What?” she said, a little flustered. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Well,” Hisoka said, “the game starts with everyone raising ten fingers. We go around in a circle with each person sharing one thing they’ve never done. If someone else has done that thing, they must put down a finger.”

Machi was sitting up in her hammock now. “So what’s the point of this game?”

“To get to know each other better,” Hisoka said seriously.

Kurapika almost laughed. Machi, on the other hand, looked as serious as Hisoka did right now.

“What does the winner get?” she asked.

Seriously?

“Hmm.” Hisoka looked thoughtful. “The losers will have to do one thing the winner tells them to do.”

Kurapika was about to protest, but Machi agreed almost immediately. “Okay.”

That shut Kurapika up.

She raised ten fingers. “You go first,” she said to Hisoka. “I’ve never played this before.”

Were they seriously doing this right now? Kurapika sat up reluctantly and raised his ten fingers, trying to hide the fact that they were trembling from the cold.

“Okay.” Hisoka smiled, sitting cross-legged on the bare ground. How the hell was he not freezing to death? “Never have I ever eaten in the past twenty-four hours.”

Kurapika put a finger down. Machi gawked at both of them.

“Aren’t you guys starving?” she said.

Hisoka shrugged. “I don’t feel very hungry.”

“Me, too,” Kurapika agreed.

“One of you’s got to be lying.”

Machi and Kurapika glanced at each other, both unsure if they should go first, but quickly looked away awkwardly. Hisoka, smiling in amusement, tilted his head at Kurapika. “You can go next,” he said.

“Never have I ever been in the Phantom Troupe.”

Hisoka and Machi both put their fingers down. “That’s dirty,” Hisoka said.

“Yeah,” Machi agreed, eyes flashing. “Well, never have I ever had sex with anyone here.”

Kurapika was going to fucking kill her. Hisoka laughed and put his finger down.

Kurapika reluctantly brought his down, too, staring intently at the ground. This game was so stupid.

“Never have I ever been allergic to peanut butter,” Hisoka said.

Kurapika’s head snapped up. Hisoka was staring at him with a shit-eating grin on his face as Kurapika brought his finger down, a wave of nausea rolling over him.

Surprisingly, Machi put her finger down. “Why do you look like you’re about to kill him for bringing peanut butter up?” she asked Kurapika.

He ignored her. “Never have I ever fought in Heaven’s Arena before.”

Hisoka looked bored when he put his finger down. “You guys really need to give more interesting prompts.”

Machi put her finger down, too, and Hisoka perked up at that. “Really?” he said. “When?”

“I needed some money when I was younger.”

“What floor did you make it up to?”

“I’m a Floor Master, but I haven’t been back in years.”

Hisoka’s eyes widened. “I’ve never once seen a ‘Machi Komacine’ anywhere on the list.”

“Because I’m under an alias, obviously.”

“Which one?”

“Not telling.”

Kurapika raised an eyebrow at Hisoka. “So much for my uninteresting prompt.”

“You’re right. Sorry, Kurapika. ♥︎”

“Never have I ever painted my nails before,” Machi said.

Kurapika and Hisoka both put their fingers down.

“That was an uninteresting prompt,” Hisoka remarked.

She shot him a glare. “I’m here to win, okay?”

Kurapika made a mental note of the number of fingers they all had left. He and Hisoka both had six fingers, while Machi had seven. They were all pretty even right now.

“Never have I ever done the water divination test,” Hisoka said.

Kurapika was the only one who put his finger down, and stared at the other two in shock. “Seriously?”

“I thought it was obvious that I was a Transmuter,” Machi said. “I never felt the need to do it.”

Hisoka nodded. “Same here.”

“Actually,” Machi said, “what is your Nen type? Chain user.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Hisoka twirled a card between his fingers. “He’s a Conjurer.”

Kurapika stared at Machi. “Yeah.”

Hisoka was intentionally misleading Machi—he clearly knew that Kurapika was a Specialist when his eyes burned red—but the other woman wasn’t going to fall for it so easily. Sure enough, she was looking right at Kurapika with narrowed eyes.

“If I win this game,” she said, “you’re telling me your real Nen type.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Kurapika said calmly. “Never have I ever seen snow.”

Machi and Hisoka both put their fingers down.

“That’s kind of sad,” Hisoka said. “No wonder you can’t handle the cold.”

“I’ve lived in a tropical region almost my entire life.”

“Never have I ever…” Machi frowned. “Uh… been in love.”

Hisoka blinked. Kurapika stared at her.

“What?” she said.

“You’re not in love with Chrollo?” Hisoka said.

Machi’s entire face flushed. “What?” she hissed. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I always thought you had something for him. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“You are,” Machi said, looking vaguely disgusted. “Don’t project yourself onto me.”

Hisoka’s lips curved up. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s not like I’m in love with him.”

“But you’re attracted to him.”

Hisoka laughed. “I’m attracted to both of you, too. It doesn’t really mean anything.”

Machi looked like she was going to puke. Kurapika wanted to leave this place very, very badly.

“Hey,” Machi said through gritted teeth, “neither of you have put your fingers down.”

“Isn’t it obvious for me?” Hisoka said. “I’m surprised about Kurapika, though.”

Kurapika looked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just seem like the kind of person who’s been in love before.” Hisoka tilted his head. “Or maybe I’m wrong again.”

“You are,” Kurapika said, suppressing a shiver. What the hell?

“Hm. It’s rare that I’m wrong twice in a row.” Hisoka looked up, contemplative. “Never have I ever… had siblings.”

Kurapika’s fingers remained up. One of Machi’s went down.

“Oh,” Hisoka said. “They’re not still alive, are they?”

“My younger siblings died of various illnesses when I was four or five.” She twirled a strand of pink hair between her fingers. “The price of living in Meteor City.”

“I thought Meteor City natives didn't know who their biological parents were.”

“I still remember who they were, because they abandoned us there,” Machi said. "I'm not exactly a true native."

“How many did you have?”

“A three-year-old brother and two-year-old sister.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kurapika said.

“It’s alright,” Machi said, and sounded like she’d really meant it.

“How fun,” Hisoka said. “Aren’t you guys enjoying yourselves right now?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Your turn, Kurapika.”

They all had exactly five fingers remaining now. This game was turning out to be closer than he’d expected.

“Never have I ever been to Meteor City before.”

Machi rolled her eyes. Hisoka looked slightly annoyed. They were both at four now.

“Boring again,” Hisoka said.

“Never have I ever had a piercing,” Machi said.

Kurapika begrudgingly put his finger down. Hisoka laughed as one of his went down, too.

“You’re revealing yourself to be more and more of a prude than I thought,” Hisoka said.

Machi sulked. “I’m not a prude,” she said, without much conviction.

“Okay,” Hisoka said. “Never have I ever been caught lying.”

Machi scoffed. “That’s just not true.”

“Name me one instance where you’ve caught me lying in the moment.”

Kurapika frowned. The slightly frightening thing was that Hisoka could actually be telling the truth here. “What’s your definition of ‘being caught lying’?”

“If someone points out that I’m lying, they have adequate justification for it, and I’m unable to defend myself well enough,” Hisoka said. “It has to be done in the moment—it can’t be a hindsight thing. If they successfully convince everyone else that I’m lying, too, it’s a bonus.”

Machi and Kurapika exchanged looks, and both put their fingers down. They were at three each now. The ironic thing was that even if Hisoka was lying right now, they wouldn’t have the ‘adequate justification’ for it, anyway.

“Never have I ever gotten a tattoo,” Kurapika said.

Machi put her finger down. Two left.

“What’s there to think about?” Machi told Hisoka. “Put yours down, too.”

He smiled. “Mine wasn’t a real tattoo. I used Texture Surprise.”

An expression of unfiltered anger flitted across her eyes, but it quickly shuttered. Hisoka had his signature grin on.

“Never have I ever pet a cat before,” Machi said.

Both Kurapika and Hisoka put their fingers down, and had two each left now.

“How sad,” Hisoka said. “Is it because you’re scared of them?”

Machi grumbled, almost endearingly, “Kinda.”

Hisoka laughed. “Never have I ever played hopscotch before.”

Kurapika and Machi were both at one. “That’s even more sad,” Machi said. “Is it because you had no friends?”

Hisoka shrugged. “Hopscotch wasn’t a very popular game back when I was a child. We had this thing called ‘Kill the Apple’, instead.”

Machi stared at him blankly. “Kill the what?”

“The Apple.”

“Why did children want to kill the Apple?”

“You can choose any object to be the Apple,” Hisoka said. “A book, a water bottle, an actual apple, whatever. Your main objective is to hide it from the others so that they won’t be able to destroy it. If they find the object, you’ll have to defend it with everything you’ve got.” Hisoka lifted the hem of his shirt, showing a small scar across his stomach. “Our village was well known for making knives, so the children usually used them in these games. I got this from one of the rougher times we played ‘Kill the Apple’.”

His village? Maybe he was originally from a different place before he’d arrived at Meteor City. Either way, Hisoka likely didn’t know that Machi had told Kurapika about the fact that they knew each other from Meteor City.

“You’re probably completely talking out of your ass right now, aren't you?” Kurapika said. He didn’t need to use the Dowsing Chain to know that.

“Why did they call it ‘Kill the Apple’, if they weren’t actually going to use apples in the game?” Machi questioned. Her seriousness was kind of amusing.

“There was a serial killer who called himself ‘The Apple’,” Hisoka said. “He went around terrorising the village for a few years, kidnapping children and dismembering them, but then mysteriously disappeared. He caused quite a bit of trauma, so the elders always warned us about him in stories. The children then naturally called their own game ‘Kill the Apple’—it reflects the village’s strong desire to see that man dead.”

Machi got up from her hammock and sat across from Hisoka beside Kurapika’s sleeping bag, eyeing his scar intently. “You didn't feel the need to use Texture Surprise to cover that up?” she said.

“Why would I need to?” Hisoka smiled. “I loved playing ‘Kill the Apple’. Those were fun times.”

Machi reached out, fingers ghosting the surface of his scar. “It’s not Texture Surprise itself, either.”

“Of course. It’s completely real.”

Curious, Kurapika lightly touched it, too. He’d already seen the same scar that night, anyway—the scar itself was likely real, but the story behind it was not.

“As much as I’m enjoying both of you touching me,” Hisoka said, “your fingers are really cold, Kurapika.”

Machi’s fingers brushed against Kurapika’s, and her eyes widened. “Okay,” Machi said with a tone of finality, “that’s it.”

Her Nen hammock disappeared behind her, and she immediately got to work weaving a completely new quilt within a few seconds. She draped it over Kurapika’s shoulders despite his look of protest, staring hardly at him.

“Take it,” she said. “I don’t care if you don’t want it.”

Kurapika had to admit, the quilt was doing wonders for him. Pleasant warmth soaked into his bones, and all the tension seeped out of his muscles.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Seriously,” Machi said, “you’re one of the most stubborn people I know.”

Depending on what Kurapika chose to say next, he could make Machi lose this game.

“Never have I ever…”

Kurapika looked between the two of them.

Been a Transmuter? That would be kind of lame to say.

“Make it good, Kurapika,” Hisoka said.

Been a Floor Master at Heaven’s Arena? He’d already mentioned Heaven’s Arena previously—that wouldn’t be very nice, either.

He thought about it.

“Hurry up,” Machi grumbled.

This was going to be a toss-up—a 50-50 on whether Machi would put her finger down. Well, it was worth a try, anyway.

“Never have I ever been attracted to Chrollo.”

Machi stiffened, all the colour draining out of her face. Hisoka threw his head back and laughed.

“You lost, Machi.”

She glared at him. “It was in the past, okay? Just a small crush when I was younger.” Her hands clapped down to her lap in frustration. “Whatever. Just don’t let Hisoka win, chain user.”

“It’s not up to me,” Kurapika said, meeting Hisoka’s steely gaze. “I think he’s already won, depending on what he says next.”

Hisoka hummed. “Hm… I’m deciding between either making you really embarrassed, or really angry.”

“Yeah, he’s already won.” Kurapika sulked. “Please choose the one that’ll make me angry.”

“Never have I ever…” Hisoka smiled. “...been a Specialist.”

Machi frowned. “Is that really your Nen type?”

Kurapika looked at her out of the corner of her eye, silently thanking every God that Hisoka had chosen something completely normal to say. “What he said is true. That’s all I can say.”

“Hm.”

“Okay,” Kurapika said. “You won, Hisoka.”

Machi grimaced. “If you make us do anything weird, I’m leaving this place immediately.”

“Me, too.”

Hisoka smiled. “Since we’re all feeling cold, why don’t we sleep on the ground together? Machi can make a bigger blanket to fit all of us.”

Kurapika balked. Machi looked like she was about to gag.

“I’m not sleeping anywhere near you,” Machi said.

“Kurapika can sleep in between us. He’s feeling the most cold, anyway.”

“No,” Kurapika said, inching away from Hisoka. “I’m not doing that.”

“I’ll give myself an additional handicap in my fight with Chrollo if we do it,” Hisoka said.

Oh, God. Machi looked like she was seriously considering it now.

“Depending on what the handicap is.” Fuck.

“How about not using Texture Surprise during the fight at all?”

Machi wrinkled her nose. “What kind of a handicap is that?”

“True. How about this? I won’t use Bungee Gum for the first twenty seconds of the fight.”

“Make it thirty.”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Kurapika blanched as Machi got into his sleeping bag beside him, getting to work on weaving a bigger blanket. She’d seriously accepted Hisoka’s proposal that easily? Kurapika had absolutely no say in this at all.

He stiffened as Hisoka laid down on Kurapika’s other side, on the ground since his sleeping bag had no more room. Machi was done pretty quickly, draping the new blanket over the three of them.

“I have one more request, Machi,” he said.

Kurapika felt absolutely suffocated in between the two of them.

“What is it?”

“I’ll pay you accordingly, so can you stitch up the injuries of my corpse after the fight with Chrollo? If I die, of course, which will be unlikely.”

Machi’s breath hitched in her throat. “‘Unlikely’? You’re already laying out your own grave by agreeing to the fight, in the first place.”

“Will you do it, or not?”

Beside Kurapika, Machi was clenching her fist. “Of course not. I'm not accepting money when you're going to be fighting Chrollo.”

“Hm… that's a shame.” Hisoka shifted onto his back, facing the night sky. “I'll deposit 500 million Jenny into your account on the day of the fight, anyway.”

Machi didn't say anything in response, her eyebrows scrunched together as her eyes screwed shut.

Silence finally settled upon them. Kurapika’s eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. He hated to admit it, but the warmth of their bodies were helping him feel better, somewhat.

“You’ve never seen snow before, have you, chain user?” Machi piped up.

“I haven’t.”

“I know a good spot. Once we’re out of Satchell, there are some snowy mountains pretty close by.”

“I don’t have time for that,” Kurapika murmured.

“It’s only a one-hour walk away. And also really beautiful.”

“I don’t think I—”

“Where were you supposed to go originally, Kurapika?” Hisoka asked.

“Um,” Kurapika said. “Evankhell Forest.”

“That’s convenient. The mountains are on the way there.”

“That’s perfect,” Machi agreed.

Kurapika didn’t want to spend any more time than he had to with these people, but…

The past hour had been nice, somewhat.

“Fine,” Kurapika reluctantly said, surprising himself as the words slipped out of his mouth. “But I can’t spend too much time there.”

“We won’t stay for long,” Machi said, her voice sounding nearer as she turned on her side to face him now. Kurapika, despite his closed eyes, could feel her staring into the side of his face. “I think you’ll like it.”

Kurapika swallowed. “Okay.”

Machi sidled a little closer to him, arm brushing against his. “You’re finally a little warmer now.”

When he realised who exactly the person was beside him, he jerked his arm away, opting to fold his arms across his chest, instead. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Your blanket’s pretty good.”

Machi was too close. Her entire body was almost flush against his side right now. Instinctively, he turned, and his face knocked right into a surface he recognised to be Hisoka’s chest.

“Are you still cold, Kurapika?” Hisoka said. “You’re fidgeting an awful lot.”

Kurapika opened his eyes to find Hisoka smirking right down at him.

“I’m not,” he protested.

Hisoka’s arm found its way around Kurapika’s waist and tugged his entire body flush against his, and Kurapika nearly gasped at just how warm he was. If he slept in this position the entire night, even without Machi’s blanket, he would probably be completely fine. Was he a living sauna, or something?

“I didn’t agree to this just for you two to act all lovey-dovey,” Machi said bitterly.

“You’re just jealous, Machi. ♥︎”

Kurapika tried slipping out of Hisoka’s grasp, but he was way too strong.

“You’re struggling so much, Kurapika,” Hisoka said. “If Machi weren’t here, you’d probably be completely okay with this.”

“Ugh,” Machi groaned emphatically, and she turned her back to them. “You guys are disgusting.”

Kurapika glared up at the grinning Hisoka. “Fuck off.”

“How sad.” Hisoka blinked innocently. “Would you be treating me differently if I had my glasses on?”

Kurapika was going to kill him.

Machi groaned again, louder this time. “Please don’t fuck while I’m here.”

“Let me go,” Kurapika hissed.

Hisoka complied, rather easily. Kurapika almost wished he hadn’t—the cold had thoroughly enveloped his body again.

“You can hug Machi, instead, if you’d like,” he teased, and Kurapika flushed.

“What the hell,” Kurapika said, flustered, “shut up.”

Machi still had her back turned to them. “So you’d rather hug that clown, instead?”

“What?” Kurapika sputtered. Hisoka laughed loudly.

“Whatever,” Machi mumbled. “I’m going to sleep. You guys can make out, for all I care.”

“You really do sound jealous, Machi,” Hisoka said.

“Am not.”

“You are.”

“I’ll go into Zetsu and leave both of you to freeze to death without my Nen if this keeps up,” Machi deadpanned.

“Hm, that won’t be good,” Hisoka said. “Kurapika really will die.”

“Yeah? Better shut up, then.”

At that moment, Kurapika’s stomach let out a huge grumble. No one said anything for a few seconds.

“Oh, God,” Machi said, finally turning over to face Kurapika with wide eyes. “You weren’t kidding in that game, were you? You really haven’t eaten in the past 24 hours.”

Kurapika’s face was very warm. He said nothing.

“For the past two days, actually,” Hisoka supplied.

“Shut up,” Machi said. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Machi sat up and dug through her haversack, taking out a box of sandwiches and opening them up. Kurapika sat up, too, salivating almost instantly.

“Have as much as you want,” Machi said. “I have more food in my bag for tomorrow, anyway.”

Kurapika mumbled a soft prayer, then picked up a sandwich and bit into it. The flavour of ham and cheese burst onto his tongue, and it almost felt like heaven to him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Hisoka leaned in and rested his head on Kurapika’s shoulder, who was too busy enjoying the sandwich and the warmth from Hisoka’s body to shrug him off. “Can I have one, too, Machi?”

“You can have whatever’s left. Let the chain user have his portion first.”

Kurapika could practically see Hisoka pouting behind him. “I haven’t eaten, too, you know.”

“I know.”

Hisoka hummed. “How cruel.”

“This is really good,” Kurapika said.

“Yup,” Machi agreed. “I always pack these before I go on long trips. It does well to stave off hunger.”

Kurapika was halfway into his second sandwich when he caught Machi’s displeased stare at the area where Hisoka’s chin connected with the dip of his shoulder. When Machi realised that Kurapika was staring back, she quickly looked away, bottom lip jutting out in a subtle pout.

“I don’t get what you see in this clown,” she muttered.

“I don’t see anything,” Kurapika replied bluntly, and suppressed a shiver when Hisoka let out a light huff of laughter, the puff of hot air ghosting over his bare neck.

“You two are amounting to be more fun than I’d imagined,” Hisoka said.

“‘Fun’, ‘fun’, ‘fun’,” Machi mocked, lips curling into a grimace. “When will you stop going on about that?”

“Probably never.”

“I sure hope you’re not tagging along all the way until the mountains.”

“I was considering it, but there’s a possibility you two may have gotten boring, by then.” Hisoka looked up at Kurapika, and he seemed almost painfully desperate, then. “Can I have a bite of your sandwich, please? From one starving person to another.”

“Only if you get off my shoulder,” Kurapika said. “You can finish it, actually.”

“You’re so kind, Kurapika.” Hisoka lifted his chin from Kurapika’s shoulder and opened his mouth. Kurapika placed the half-eaten sandwich between his teeth. “Kinder than Machi,” he said through muffled bites.

Machi folded her arms indignantly. “I’m not about to give you additional sustenance before your fight with Chrollo.”

Hisoka chuckled. “It’s still a long time away.”

“It doesn’t matter. You can drop dead before then, for all I care.”

Kurapika picked up a third sandwich.

“Kurapika,” Hisoka said. “I’m curious. Do you have a preference on who survives?”

“You mean between you and Chrollo?”

“Yup.”

Kurapika chewed on the sandwich slowly, feeling Machi’s burning gaze on him. She would probably kill him if he told the truth.

“Not particularly,” Kurapika said. “Who lives or dies is of no relevance to me. The best outcome would be if neither of you came out alive.”

Hisoka smiled. “Liar.”

Kurapika looked at him, ticked off.

“You have a preference who survives, don't you?” Hisoka ate his second sandwich in two big bites. “You know, you have a certain tell whenever you're lying.”

Kurapika’s entire appetite was ruined now. “Excuse me?”

“Do you know what I'm talking about, Machi?”

Machi looked between him and Kurapika. “I can't say I do.”

“You have to watch his nose. It scrunches a little whenever he tells a lie, or a half-truth.”

Kurapika didn’t even know that.

“I figured it out when he was trying to hide his Nen type from you during the game,” Hisoka said. “It's almost cute how someone with the ability to accurately spot lies can't even lie very well themselves.”

Kurapika frowned. “I can lie,” he said indignantly.

“Does you becoming a Specialist have something to do with your eyes turning scarlet?” Hisoka asked.

“Huh? Why would it?”

Was he trying to reveal everything about Kurapika’s ability to Machi right now?

“See?” Hisoka laughed. “It's his nose.”

“Yeah,” Machi said, “I think you're right.”

“That was a horrible example,” Kurapika protested, heat creeping up his neck. “You can't just ask a question as direct as that, especially when you already know the answer.”

He was more annoyed at the fact that Machi now knew almost every important facet of Kurapika’s ability at this point—Judgement Chain, Chain Jail, gaining the ability of a Specialist when his eyes turned scarlet… What the hell would he have to unwillingly reveal next?

“If you were able to lie, you would've dodged that pretty easily,” Hisoka said.

“Then what would you have said in response?”

“I would've said they're not related at all—becoming a Specialist only occurs when I use a specific ability on one of my chains,” Hisoka mused, “and I only realised my Nen type changed when my aura expanded while using that specific ability.”

“That doesn't even make any sense,” Kurapika said. “Nen doesn't work like that.”

“Who cares if it actually makes sense, or not? It wouldn’t matter if you're convincing enough about it.”

“It's true,” Machi said begrudgingly. “The best lies are told when you come up with a sufficiently convincing alternative that you want the other person to believe in. The more oddly specific details you add, the more convincing it'll be.”

“Easy for you to say, Machi,” Hisoka said, smirking. “You're a remarkably bad liar yourself.”

“Huh?”

“You know, when I first met you, I couldn't believe you were a Transmuter. You were so blatantly honest and transparent that I was genuinely shocked when I found out you were one.”

Machi rolled her eyes. “Your aura personality thing doesn't even make any sense, anyway. You can't just generalise an entire Nen category into a few overly broad character traits.”

“Maybe,” Hisoka said. “But it’s fun when I’m right. And I’m right most of the time, which means there’s some truth to it.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter if I can’t lie—what’s more important is that I’m always able to tell when I’m lied to.”

Hisoka moved to pick up another sandwich, and Machi slapped his hand away. “Nope,” she said. “Two is more than enough.”

“I technically only ate one and a quarter.”

Hisoka looked hungrily as Kurapika picked up the last sandwich.

“I can break this in half,” Kurapika offered.

“No.” Machi folded her arms. “We’re going through rough terrain tomorrow. You’ll need all the energy you can get.”

“You’re so unfair, Machi,” Hisoka said.

“It’s okay. I feel a little bad.” Kurapika broke the sandwich up, anyway, and placed the smaller half into Hisoka’s mouth, because he didn’t feel that bad.

Once they were both done eating, Machi placed the empty sandwich box in her bag and crawled under the sleeping bag covers. Kurapika and Hisoka both laid back down.

“Thanks for the food,” Kurapika said.

Machi sighed. “It’s nothing. You should really pack some food next time.”

“Goodnight, everyone,” Hisoka said.

“It would’ve been one if you weren’t here.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Machi. I know you secretly enjoyed today.” Kurapika could hear Hisoka’s grin. “Aren’t you two glad I introduced you guys to each other?”

“You didn’t introduce us. We met up before you even arrived,” Machi said.

“But you wouldn’t have been on speaking terms for very long,” Hisoka said. “Remember that little fight you guys had before the game? Look at how well you’ve reconciled now, all thanks to my silly icebreaker idea.”

Machi and Kurapika said nothing to that.

Eventually, Kurapika’s breathing slowed, eyelids growing heavier and heavier. As he was finally drifting off to sleep, he caught the last remnants of their conversation:

“Well?” It sounded like Hisoka. “Do you still feel like killing him?”

“I was never planning to.”

“But you were tempted. I think you would’ve tried, before I’d intervened.”

There was a pause.

“It’s not feasible. His post-mortem Nen could give us problems.”

“I could only imagine.”

“Honestly, I see why you’ve taken a liking to him.”

Hisoka lightly laughed. “Pray tell.”

“He has that pig-headed stubbornness about him. I think you like that in people.”

“Hm. You two have that in common, you know.”

Machi clicked her tongue. “I am not pig-headed. And I’m not nearly as prideful and frustrating as he is.”

“But you like him, anyway.”

“What?”

“It’s obvious.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You were treating him so much better than me. I’m kind of jealous.”

“I would treat anyone better than you.”

“Really? But you rushed over to that hotel so quickly when you found out I was dying.”

Machi went silent for a moment.

“It’s only because I thought the chain user was the one who inflicted those injuries on you. I didn’t think you were working together.”

“Seriously?” Hisoka laughed. “Why would Kurapika bother calling you if he was the one who fought me?”

“I didn’t know, alright? I thought it was going to be some sort of ambush. I didn’t expect him to already be busy healing you when I got there.”

“That’s cute… you thought I was a hostage. You really do care about me, after all.”

“Stop twisting my words.” Machi sighed. “I seriously hope Chrollo kills you for good.”

“Will you be in the stands on that day?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”

“I’m curious,” Hisoka said. “Have you ever used your ability on him before?”

Machi hesitated. “Only once, when he was in pretty critical condition. He hasn’t requested it since.”

“Do you want to use your ability on him?”

“Of course I do. I’d do anything to heal one of us. But he doesn’t ever want my help.”

“Why?”

“Who knows? I don’t know what he’s thinking anymore. I never really have.”

When Kurapika awoke the next morning, both sides of the sleeping bag were empty.

He sat up in a daze, wondering if the previous night had all been a dream. Then he felt Machi’s Nen blanket draped over him, and heard splashes coming from the river.

He looked behind, and saw Machi washing her face with the water. She turned around the moment he did, water clinging to her eyelashes and dripping down her neck.

“Good morning,” she said.

Kurapika rubbed his eyes. “Where’s Hisoka?”

“He was already gone when I woke up.”

Kurapika slowly stood up, stretching and popping his bones. Satchell Forest was much warmer in the daytime—he was extremely thankful for it.

“The place I need to visit is just an hour’s walk from here,” Machi said. “Once I’m done, we’ll immediately head for Evankhell Forest.”

“Okay.”

“Did you sleep well?”

Kurapika couldn’t believe it, but he was seriously mourning Hisoka’s absence. When he was around, he could at least count on him to provide some sort of lubrication for the interactions between him and Machi. Now, all he was left with was strange friction and jolted, spiky exchanges that could never truly feel natural—whatever they opened their mouths to say never really fit together. Perhaps it never will.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was warm last night.”

“That’s good.” Machi stood up and picked up her bag. “Start packing up, chain user. We’ll head off soon.”

They walked for an hour through the forest in complete silence, until they stopped right in front of a normal-looking tree. Machi bent down and took a bouquet of flowers out of her bag, placing it down by the sprawling roots. Beside her flowers were other small trinkets—a beaded necklace, a flower crown, and a few handwritten cards. There were several closed boxes beside the trinkets, visibly rusted through and likely containing similar gifts from many years back.

Someone had probably died here.

Machi stared at the gifts for a while. She reached for the cards and flipped them over, presumably checking through the names of the people who’d written them. Kurapika spotted some of them—Phinks. Nobu. Shal. She placed them back, visibly annoyed by something Kurapika wasn’t privy to.

Machi sat cross-legged for a while, breathing steadily with her eyes closed. Kurapika remained standing, watching her.

After a few minutes, she got back up and hauled her bag over her shoulder.

“Let’s go. Evankhell Forest is just up ahead.”

When Kurapika caught a glimpse of the snow-capped mountains in the distance through a gap in the trees, he couldn’t help himself from lightly gasping in awe. They were more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen.

When they stepped out of the forest and onto a grassy field, it began to snow. His fingertips were ticklish and wet. White slowly replaced green on the ground, and the field quickly became a blanket of snow, the mountains in the background painting an image straight out of a fairytale landscape, the kind he'd only been able to read about in books back in his village.

Kurapika couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to witness something like this. Machi had already been staring at him when he turned to look at her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.

“Yeah.” Kurapika didn’t even care that he was already starting to feel cold again. Just the sight of snow made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Almost a little reminiscent of happiness. “I can’t believe this is real.”

He held out his hands, the snowflakes melting across his palms. He looked up at the sky, blinking rapidly in amazement.

Something warm draped itself over his neck. Kurapika looked down, and realised that Machi had stitched a scarf from her Nen and wrapped it around him.

She pointed to the woods in the distance. “That’s Evankhell Forest. I don’t know what you’re planning to do there, but it’s pretty small, so it’ll be difficult to get lost.”

“Thank you,” Kurapika said earnestly. “Thank you for all your help, Machi.”

“I’m going to head back now,” Machi said. “The scarf will last for at most one hour without me holding onto it, but it’ll be enough time to keep you warm before you enter Evankhell.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Machi looked at him for a long moment.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “for what I said last night.”

Kurapika didn’t know what to say to that. He looked at the ground.

“I’ll be taking my leave, then,” he said.

Machi took a step forward, hesitating a little. “Close your eyes.”

“Huh?” He complied, eyes sliding shut. “Why?”

He felt a soft pressure at his shoulder as Machi pressed a light kiss to it. “Stay safe, Kurapika,” she murmured.

His eyes snapped wide open.

The scarf around his neck felt a little colder. She’d already gone.

He looked back out at the snow, and continued walking.