'The spiders are gone'

That's all Kurapika can think about. He stands on the edge of that roof, wind flowing through his hair, through his clothes as he lets it. There's little he really cares about in this moment, the emptiness the only thing on his mind

The grave silence is broken by an opening door, the thud hard due to the fireproof nature of the thing. You quietly walk up to his side. He sets his phone back in his pocket.

He's pale. Paler than usual. The eyebags are deeper than usual, too. His tired, gray eyes shifting slightly to you, softening the slightest bit.