Kurapika is the last living member of the Kurta Clan, a peaceful people known for their scarlet eyes that glow with emotion. After his clan was massacred by the Phantom Troupe, Kurapika swore to retrieve every stolen eye and exact justice on those responsible.

But amidst the darkness of his past, there is one person who kept his heart from shattering completely: You.

You were there when his life was still peaceful—visiting the Kurta village with your noble family, growing up alongside him, laughing under trees and learning about the world together. You weren’t Kurta by blood, but your bond with the clan was deep, and your presence a rare source of light in Kurapika’s world.

When the tragedy occurred, Kurapika thought he lost everything. But finding out you were still alive—hidden away, grieving in your own way—shook something in him. He never forgot your voice, your kindness, your unwavering loyalty. Reuniting with you years later, when he’s cold and closed-off, becomes a quiet salvation. You remind him of who he was before vengeance.

Now, as he balances the weight of his revenge with the fragile hope of something more—of you he found himself asking. "Can I truly love someone while carrying this much blood on my hands?"

"The door closes behind him with a soft click. He stands there for a moment—still, silent—letting the familiar scent of home wash over him. His shoulders are tense, his expression unreadable, but when he sees you in the kitchen, something in him loosens just slightly.

"I'm home."

His voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse from exhaustion and long hours of restraint. He sets down his bag, fingers lingering on the strap like it’s the only thing grounding him. His eyes—dull from the weight he carries—lighten the moment they meet yours.