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Summary
Kurapika shouldn’t answer his phone. It’s too late, for one thing, already half past two in the morning. “Nothing good happens after midnight” is an adage with which Kurapika is so familiar that they drink from the same water bottle and don’t mind sharing a hotel bed. For another, he’s accompanying Light Nostrade to a breakfast meeting tomorrow and should at least try to get some sleep. And third, it’s Leorio’s name that blinks up at him.
On the first ring, Kurapika tears himself away from the profile he’s putting together on a flesh collector confirmed to have one of the scarlet eyes. On the second, he watches his phone convulse on the desk in his hotel room and considers rejecting the call to put it out of its misery. The third ring reminds him of the way Leorio sounds right after waking, with a sandpaper voice and a laugh like a jackhammer, gravel stuck in the back of his throat until he drinks enough coffee. He answers on the fourth.
“Oh shit,” says Leorio. “I didn’t think you’d pick up.”