It took her a moment to recollect her memories, but suddenly: "Ah." Rein wrapped her arms around her knees. "You noticed?"

"How could I not? After all," he reasoned, "you and I were the only ones there who knew that gun was empty. I'd unloaded it as a precaution."

"Why were you carrying around an empty gun anyway? It'd be practically useless for you with your even faster chains, so..." She took a moment here to pause, and her eyes narrowed at him against her will. "A trap? Bait?"

There was a brief but stiffening silence before he answered, and the hand of his injured arm twitched upon the soft green moss, with a dull sheen almost too bright for his eyes as he tried not to look elsewhere. "It wasn't a trap, I think," he said, disclosing the rare sight of uncertainty on his face. "I wouldn't have held a firearm in the first place had it not been a requirement for the job. It was a part of the suit as a uniform, a set, and the only other set of clothes I possess are tribal wear my mother made for me in advance, before my departure from the Clan." Here, he gazed upon the blue cloth draping across his lap. "You are already rejecting your past. I simply didn't need you associating this outfit with any more negative things. So I wore my work uniform, including the gun within the holster."

"...I expected something better."

"B-better!?"

"N-not better, but, I mean...!" There was heat lighting her face aflame, and she told herself this was stupid because her words hadn't been that embarrassing. Annoyed at herself, she make a small "tch", and instantly feeling a tad more stable, turned her face and continued. "Something along the lines of having done it for my own safety, to win me over. A crafted story that would have put yourself in a better light."

"So lying would have improved my image?" he inquired, his tone hypothetical.

"There were tons of excuses you could have made. I already hate you, so you should have gotten on my good side as to why your already meaningless gun was emptied." Her hands unsure of how to neatly fold on her lap, she gave up and leaned back upon the thick moss, appearing to observe the sky above but with a glassy gaze. "You should have lied," Rein said. "It would have helped your case."

There was another pause. These silences seemed reoccurring, Kurapika noted, but somehow it was different. Before it had been agonizing to talk to each other, and for her he was sure it must have been difficult to even look at him, at the one responsible for the majority of her suffering. He knew he would respond the same way if confronted with the one responsible for orchestrating the horrific extermination of the Kurta. He, at least, wouldn't be able to stay sane like she was right now. So before, mere moments before, everything had been difficult, awkward, and stifling.

But this time, the silence was secure. It wasn't a comfort, but he did understand the air was clear now, without harbored feelings of hatred. In this quiet, they knew they could stop talking, and things would still be okay. And it was a mutual understanding, a mutual silence where they both knew it was what they needed. It would be fine.

They weren't great, but in that moment, they were feeling just fine.

His head tipped forward; a prodding question.

She clasped her hands together, and with an accumulating concentration of Nen in her palms, she gave her answer.

Taking away her top hand, Rein revealed a molded lump of lead. "I can make bullets. Usually it's the type you put in a slingshot, but with a gun already at hand, conjuring the slingshot after would have been a waste of time. I can't conjure that fast, not yet. It's still a rough Hatsu."

He waited for her permission before taking the crafted bullet from her hand, and shaded it to get a better look. "It looks a little different," Kurapika remarked. "This one is closer to what my employer supplied me with, but the bullet I drew out from my wound when I treated it was," he paused for wording, but when he couldn't find a suitable alternative, he settled with, "impure. The material was mixed, more of an actual slingshot stone than a bullet."

"I, uh, rocks just come easier to me. Shooting I usually did with a snap of the wrist, but actually using something to propel it forward enhanced its power." Her voice quieted. "Not that it matters."

With a patient cocked head that he deduced would make her feel more comfortable given their height difference, he waited.

"I... I can't kill any more. At least, I don't think I can."

"Don't think?"

"I wasn't in the best state for a while. My Specialist ability was the cause of that, but that's gone now, so... it's just that during that time I killed someone, but it was self defense. I protected people and killed others to do it, so it's fine... it's fine." She drew into herself. "But there's kind of a crunch, you know? And then they fall and then there's blood everywhere and it's all just kind of over for them. They're just lying there but... they're so still."

He knew that feeling.

"They're so still."

He knew it well.

"I was fine with it before." That wasn't true, not fully. The scenes left behind by the Troupe had disgusted her at first, but it had slowly developed into a sickening fascination. If she hadn't seen Uvogin subjected to the same fate at the time she did, by now, she might have even enjoyed it. "Thanks to you, that's different."

There was clear bitterness in her voice, creeping toward hatred, but a trace amount of relief lingered within it, as if she wasn't sure if she could accept this feeling.

"I..." I don't kill because I am comfortable with it, he wanted to say, but decided against it. With as little emphasis on the 'you' as he could say while still getting his point across, he said, "And for whatever pain I've caused you, understand that I do regret it."

"You're the first person I've said this too." In an attempt to lighten the mood, she forced a grin. "Appreciate it."

"Do the Spiders not know?"

"It's their way of life." (Their, she noticed after the words left her mouth. She had said their.) "They could never understand."

He found the urge to reassure that they would, simply out of general politeness, but he knew it would be a lie. It was a cold lie, and if he said such they would both know it. "What about Lucky?" Kurapika found himself asking instead.

"He's never killed anyone. And the others, it's just not the same. They can't understand, and even if I could get them to, I wouldn't do that to them." Rein drew in a deep breath, and made an expression as if she hadn't had one in a very long time. Her next words were almost a reassurance. "It's weird. I can kill; I have killed. I wanted to kill you. But everything after," her voice wavered here, "it's everything after I can't deal with."

He wondered whether it would be presumptuous of him to claim he understood when she was sure no one else could, but with a melancholy confidence he could say: "I get where you're coming from."

*     *     *

"I would like to ask for you to accept your past," Kurapika brought up after a while. It was direct, but he couldn't think of any alternative way to phrase it. Now that it was in the open, he almost wished he could take it back, snatch it from the air and neatly fold it up to keep its contents hidden; think of another way to say it. Another way that would increase his chances.

"I don't..." It wasn't a rejection, but as expected her answer was not one easily leading to a happy conclusion. "I don't remember anything. I want to... maybe." Her words came strained in her last sentence, as if she was forcing it out.

Rein didn't want to know her past?

No. Judging from her expression and hesitation, she must've. She must have, but within her feelings lay a net of conflict, entrapping her the more she struggled against it and leaving her unable to escape. Because of what she did remember, she couldn't devote herself to people she didn't. Everything she knew had been bridged around a lie, and her life was still hanging by loose threads without a pillar. If that last little bit she knew came crumbling down as well...

If it were him he wasn't sure whether he would be able to handle it.

Her words came slow. "I know they kill people. I know. I know they killed the Kurta Clan. I like the Troupe. I really love the Troupe. But they killed people that I would have loved too."

Kurapika unconsciously brought a hand up to his head and rolled the small shard of red gemstone on his earring around his fingers, and the sun passing through it left a scarlet glow on his pale hair. "You did love them."

"I know, I know, but...!"

He stopped and gave her time to slow her heavy breathing. The Phantom Troupe had killed their family, and in retaliation he had killed hers. It was mostly due to situation, yes, and he still believed his actions were justified, but with a logical mind he could tell it was because of him that it was so difficult for her to draw out of the lie she'd lived in. A lie, yes, but one she had been content with.

They both knew she would have to accept it eventually; otherwise, why would she even try so hard right now? Yet as predicted, it was an awkward transition. Even he had difficulty acknowledging the fact that Rein, a Kurta and one of him, was close to the group responsible for their near genocide.

(More than difficult. It hurt.)

For now it seemed they could only take small steps. Small, inching steps, but steps forward. And that was a start.

"Your brother was a friend of mine."

Rein hung her head slowly, blocking the world and shutting off her senses so the only thing she could perceive was his voice. She gave a faint nod to indicate he could continue.

"Brown hair, darker than yours. And there was this big gnarly tree around the village—we lived in the forest, but this tree stood out. A very ugly tree. You used to fall from it all the time. And when-"

"Wait." She cut him off and with languid movement she took something out of her pocket and gave it to him. "Strings from Lucky. There's a few color options to choose from, so braid them together or just play around with them... or whatever. Do it while you're talking. It helps... or whatever?" Having exhausted her vocabulary, Rein lowered her head again.

Kurapika felt the threads in his hand and immediately felt drawn to the red. Picking it free, he selected a few more and resumed. "And when mushroom season came around you'd always try to come along even though you would probably poison yourself if anyone let you go." And so Kurapika spoke. He didn't about anything big, in fact he never mentioned any names of the clansmen although he remembered them all. He spoke of little things. A rotting wooden beam in one part of his house, a berry bush hidden behind a waterfall, small things that wouldn't overwhelm her. And that had been the plan. His strategy was to introduce Rein to her past, introduce her to Aira little by little in amounts she could tolerate.

That had been the plan.

When a warm drop of water fell onto his knuckles, he didn't know what to do.

When he lifted his head in surprise to try and see where it had come from, only more tears spilled from his still eyes and fell to his lap.

When he looked to the strings he'd been braiding together, he realized they only consisted of red and gold. And when the image of Pairo suddenly came from it, he was alarmed at the lump in his throat and the hotness of his eyes.

His gaze whipped up to Rein in confusion, in panic, but he was met with her calm face, the most understanding he'd seen her.

"It kind of hurts, right? Your throat and your eyes and your chest area and everything?" Her eyes watered as she attempted to give a wobbly smile. "It all just hurts."

*     *     *

Rein didn't think she'd ever experienced this feeling before. It wasn't happiness, it wasn't sadness or the anger she'd expected to feel. If it had been a mere month before, she would have felt triumph at seeing the Chain User break, but it was unthinkable now. Her insides ached both looking at him and remembering her own times of pain, but there was a reassurance within it.

Kurapika had tried to talk of events in the Kurta Clan to attempt to connect her to it, but she suspected this was the first he had done such a thing with anyone. He'd opened the memories he'd sealed; not the ones of who had been in his clan and what had happened to them, but the softer delicate memories, the small details that stirred up the deepest of his locked-up emotions.

For what seemed the first time in a long time, Kurapika shed tears.

The Chain User was human too.

The chain user was human too.

What an interesting observation, Rein mentally snickered to herself, clearing the ache in her own throat as she sat next to Kurapika and kept him company as he wrapped up his little episode, composing himself. When his hand came away from brushing at the corners of his eyes, his knuckles were damp, and though tinted pink from rubbing, there was no trace of scarlet in his warm gray eyes. He drew in a rickety breath. Somehow, he seemed more full of life now than anytime he'd fought her.

Suddenly, he stood to face the trees, the lines in his face hardening. He took a fighting stance, raising his fist so the metal rings of his chains glinted in the light. A split second later, she felt it too, a shuddering feeling creeping up her spine. Rein leapt up to join him to face the foe coming through the forest, and it was only after Kurapika ordered, "Come out" that she recognized who it was.

Without knowing it she gripped Kurapika's wrist, holding him back.

The figure slipped out from the shadows, his dark coat dappled with the light shining through the gaps between the leaves as he stepped forward, and the white fur lining his collar tickling his chin as he tilted his head to look at them. "You've caught me," said Chrollo.

Kurapika glowered, jaw tightening, but he didn't lunge forward. He got to the point. "It is because of one person's convoluted past that nothing is happening to you now."

"I could say the same for you," Chrollo answered. "As you can likely tell, Kurapika, the chain restriction on my heart has been lifted. I am now free to meet with the other members of the Spiders at any time, and they have nothing stopping them from attacking you wholeheartedly now."

"Acting all merciful-!" Kurapika nearly lost his cool at this, but Rein stepped forward.

She came between them, a firm grasp on Kurapika's wrist behind her and her other hand out in front, toward Chrollo. "Chrollo, really. Stop."

"Rein, I see you've gotten taller. Twelve now, if I wasn't mistaken?" It wasn't a question, for he knew he was never wrong. "You must be at ease to know there's no direct danger to my life, and that you are not one, correct?"

"Yes, but really stop. I mean it." Behind all his polite, smooth talk, she knew Chrollo was purposely attempting to rile up Kurapika. And she would hate to see him succeed.

He let out a sigh and complied with her wishes. "Then I suppose," he asked in all seriousness, and yet again it wasn't really a question, "you know the full truth behind your past?"

"No," she replied after a moment, surprising them both before realizing that if Rein was going to know at all, she was planning on knowing everything. "I'll leave a few of these to the others, but one..." Rein looked to Chrollo. "You're the only person I can't figure out. I know I was only an experiment at first and not even one of the actual Troupe, but at any point, did you ever really..." It was difficult to speak. "Did you ever really care for me?"

He didn't answer immediately, as was Chrollo's way, but it still hurt her a bit. "Eventually, you became one closely affiliated with the Phantom Troupe, more so than any other outsider has ever been. As the head of the Spider, I must answer that at one point I looked back and understood you had become more than just a simple experiment."

It was Chrollo's way; it had been ever since she'd woken up with her memories erased. He would dodge questions and always say more than he had to while saying too little at the same time. His answers were concocted, clever, made for the benefit of himself and to please all around him, or to rile them up. It would have satisfied her before, but now, all she could understand was that he hadn't said no, but he also hadn't said yes. And that was Chrollo. This was his honest answer, and though it stung a bit, she supposed it was more of a yes than anything.

It was the response he'd given, and she accepted it with a dull smile.

"Okay."

"I am happy both of you have come to terms and decided to go on with your lives." Neither of them could tell whether there was hidden meaning behind his words or not, and Chrollo revealed little to prove it. "I simply came this time to see how you were doing. Kurapika, Rein, may you both find peace." He'd started to turn around when he was stopped.

"One more question!" Rein shouted, afraid he would vanish into thin air. "Lucky said Feitan was keeping him around as another possible experiment and waiting for you to come back. Could you let him go?" When a reply didn't come, she kept on talking. "He wants to go to college. His aura isn't what it was before and a lot of it is gone now, so there's no use in trying to train him with what he doesn't have. He should be able to have a life apart from the Spiders if he wants. Could you free him?"

Head lowered, Chrollo didn't look at her when he answered. "If that's what it takes for you to find peace, then by all means he is freed." His coat rippled in the wind, and in a mere moment he was gone.

Rein's brow furrowed. "That was strange." He'd been strange.

"It may sound absurd coming from me, and I may be twisting things to suit my own views," Kurapika spoke up, "But it seemed as if he'd prepared himself on the belief that you were on my side."

"Oh. Well... I'm not."

"Whose side are you on?"

It took her a while. "I'm not sure. But I'll tell him sometime. There's no restriction on him now, so meeting him will become easier. I still have a few questions too."

"That reminds me." Kurapika readied his chains, and though surprised, Rein didn't panic. "There was still a chain restriction on your heart, right?" He took her nod as the cue to draw it back, and the chain links clinked together as they slipped out of her chest and back toward him, the tip of the blade glinting in farewell.

Her breath shuddered as she exhaled, testing her freedom. "All good." Finally, the chain was gone. It had left a few bruises in her heart, but when it was all over she felt strange without it. However, she didn't miss it.

Kurapika opened his fist to extend his hand toward her, not realizing he'd still been clutching the red and gold braid. Once loose, a gust of wind blew it out of his grasp, into the trees where Chrollo had disappeared. The scarlet gem on his earring mixed with his hair as his eyes traced where it was going. They stared as the braid settled itself in the top branches of a gnarled tree, taunting them both as it waved hopelessly out of reach.

"I can get it," she said, and started to make her way toward it. He followed after her saying he could manage without it, but she interjected; "I'm light, or at least lighter than you are. I'll be fine, I can get it."

And so Rein settled her fingers in the crevices of the bark, and found a sturdy foothold before tilting her head back and planning her ascendance. The braid was within her sights, and locking on, she started to climb. It came to her almost naturally. She could see where it was safe to shift her weight and where it wasn't with such accuracy that she felt like she'd done it before. It was different from the time she'd climbed to the ceiling with Killua during the Hunter Exam. There had been a metal lattice to rely upon back then, now there was only raw nature and her instinct. She climbed higher and higher and made the mistake of looking down at the halfway mark, the top of Kurapika's head and the ground alarmingly far away.

("Come down!")

Snapped out of her daze, Rein forced herself to face up and keep going. And she became mesmerized with the way she was able to maneuver this high up. Her hand shook a little, but slowly she got used to it again and fell into rhythm. When she brushed the thick foliage aside, the high wind met her cheek with a cold gust. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited until it had died down to crack them open once more.

Her breath left her lungs.

Rein gazed out across the treetops, and suddenly the fear of being up so high started to dissipate. She could see for miles. The green trees faded out into blue mountains in the distance, and there was such a distance between land and the clouds, a larger gap than she'd seen before. There were birds and native griffins nesting only a few trees away from her, and the sheen of their feathers in the sun shone beautifully into her eyes. Everything was different, thrilling and calming and simply amazing. A breeze came through and played with her hair, and it no longer felt cold, a stranger.

What was it that Chrollo would quote?

"Kissed by the wind."

"Are you stuck?" Kurapika suddenly called, and though it surprised her, it felt familiar.

She set her sights on the braid again, which thankfully was still snagged on a thin branch. She made her way toward it and slowly inched forward, careful not to loose her grip and praying the branch wouldn't give under her weight. Her hands circling the wood, she managed to move forward. In a swift movement, she plucked the braid from it and gave a relieved sigh when it was in her hands.

And then she was overcome.

("Aira, come down!")

("If you fall, what am I going to tell your mother?")

By the time she was brought back to her senses, her hands had slipped from the branch, and Rein was falling.

She released a burst of aura just in time, softening the blow and also the ground in the process. On the dirt she groaned, aching but otherwise unscathed.

"Rein, are you-?!" Kurapika called out in concern before a snicker left his lips. "I'm sorry I-" Another snicker came from him, and he had to cover his mouth and turn away as he attempted to calm himself. "Sorry, I don't know what's come over-!" He couldn't hold it in anymore and laughed. "Just, just like-!"  He gave in to his laughter. Perhaps it was a relieving of his pent up stress, but whatever tension had been left between them, if any, fully melted away. "Rein, are you okay?" Kurapika finally asked when he was able to speak in coherent sentences.

"Kurapika, you..." she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes, I apologize and I really don't know what came over-"

"You never gave me back that ruby I found in the woods."

"...what?" he breathed.

"That ruby, at least I think it was." She brought a hand to her chin, trying to remember. "It was red, right?"

His expression softened, and slowly, he tilted his head. His blond locks swept across his forehead and fell down in a cascade, surrounding the red gemstone in a golden nest.

"Yes. It was."

Hey guys, my hand is feeling a lot better now! (Wow that injury really put me off my writing track) Thank you for all your support in between chapters, it always makes me super happy!!

Q: Is this chapter sad or happy?
A: sappy
Q: you can't just combine the two words and get something that means the same thing—
A: IT IS A VERY HAD CHAPTER
Q: that doesn't even—
A: happad
Q: please stop.

Thank you to the book Flipped for telling me how great climbing trees is. "Kissed by the wind" is a reference to this book, which I totally recommend.

Here, have art from Pinterest (I wish I knew who the artist was):

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