Only the Names Change (HunterxHunter/Naruto, shortfic)
Fic: Only the Names Change
Author: aishuu
Fandom: HunterxHunter/Naruto
Character(s): Kurapika
Wordcount: 525
Rating: PG
Notes: Day 7 of 40 Days, theme: Not known, because not looked for from killthwight
Summary: History repeats itself. A thousand years after the Age of Legends, a young man walks the same path as his ancestor.
History had a way of repeating itself. Humanity forgot the lessons learned from history, and somehow the past would be recycled into the present, and people would walk through the same lives as their ancestors, tracing a well-trod path.
Kurapika, although well-schooled by the standards of many, did not realize that his ancestor had already suffered the same fate as he. This was not his fault, because there was no way he could have known.
Humanity had lost most of the records from the Age of Legends. There were still whispered tales that might have been based on the truth, but the apocalypse that had ushered in the current age didn't leave much room for the truth. No living man knew exactly what had happened to rearrange the face of the earth, but that left plenty of room for speculation and invention.
Kurapika had enjoyed those stories in his youth, just like any child might have. The idea of ninja was just plain cool, although the feats attributed to them were impossible. A human couldn't walk upon water, much less cause a nuclear holocaust by summoning the element of fire itself.
His tribe claimed to descend from those legendary shinobi. Part of their creation myth focused on how their red eyes were a reminder of that hard time, that once their eyes had been used in battle and given the tribe near immortality. No man had been able to stand against the red eyes.
It was a fanciful story, but Kurapika guessed it was excusable. Every family wanted to be seen as "special."
Maybe his life might have been easier, if he'd realized his clan's true history. If somehow, somewhere, he'd discovered the true origins of his people, maybe he might have felt less alone, and less hopeless.
A thousand years before, his family had borne a different name and lived in a different country. Back then, the use of what would become known as "nen" to the Hunters was much more common. Back then, entire villages formed around those special individuals, and thus was born the profession of shinobi.
His ancestors were among the best, ruthless and skilled. Their "chakra" abilities were focused around the use of their eyes, and they were both revered and feared. At the time, everyone knew of them - the Uchiha were legendary.
And then they were massacred, leaving only one survivor. But eventually he'd thrived, starting his own family, and somehow survived the apocalypse that had wiped out almost all of the shinobi.
His descendants had evolved into the Kurata, and they'd thrived until one night, when almost all of them had been wiped out save for one male child.
The Kurata massacre was never far from the forefront of Kurapika's mind. He was haunted by the images of his people lying dead, their eyes stolen from their bodies because of their extraordinary beauty. It was his driving force, his desire to get revenge on those who had perpetrated the atrocity, and reclaim what had been stolen from him.
Humanity did not learn from the past. In a thousand years, nothing changed except the names of those involved.
Author: aishuu
Fandom: HunterxHunter/Naruto
Character(s): Kurapika
Wordcount: 525
Rating: PG
Notes: Day 7 of 40 Days, theme: Not known, because not looked for from killthwight
Summary: History repeats itself. A thousand years after the Age of Legends, a young man walks the same path as his ancestor.
History had a way of repeating itself. Humanity forgot the lessons learned from history, and somehow the past would be recycled into the present, and people would walk through the same lives as their ancestors, tracing a well-trod path.
Kurapika, although well-schooled by the standards of many, did not realize that his ancestor had already suffered the same fate as he. This was not his fault, because there was no way he could have known.
Humanity had lost most of the records from the Age of Legends. There were still whispered tales that might have been based on the truth, but the apocalypse that had ushered in the current age didn't leave much room for the truth. No living man knew exactly what had happened to rearrange the face of the earth, but that left plenty of room for speculation and invention.
Kurapika had enjoyed those stories in his youth, just like any child might have. The idea of ninja was just plain cool, although the feats attributed to them were impossible. A human couldn't walk upon water, much less cause a nuclear holocaust by summoning the element of fire itself.
His tribe claimed to descend from those legendary shinobi. Part of their creation myth focused on how their red eyes were a reminder of that hard time, that once their eyes had been used in battle and given the tribe near immortality. No man had been able to stand against the red eyes.
It was a fanciful story, but Kurapika guessed it was excusable. Every family wanted to be seen as "special."
Maybe his life might have been easier, if he'd realized his clan's true history. If somehow, somewhere, he'd discovered the true origins of his people, maybe he might have felt less alone, and less hopeless.
A thousand years before, his family had borne a different name and lived in a different country. Back then, the use of what would become known as "nen" to the Hunters was much more common. Back then, entire villages formed around those special individuals, and thus was born the profession of shinobi.
His ancestors were among the best, ruthless and skilled. Their "chakra" abilities were focused around the use of their eyes, and they were both revered and feared. At the time, everyone knew of them - the Uchiha were legendary.
And then they were massacred, leaving only one survivor. But eventually he'd thrived, starting his own family, and somehow survived the apocalypse that had wiped out almost all of the shinobi.
His descendants had evolved into the Kurata, and they'd thrived until one night, when almost all of them had been wiped out save for one male child.
The Kurata massacre was never far from the forefront of Kurapika's mind. He was haunted by the images of his people lying dead, their eyes stolen from their bodies because of their extraordinary beauty. It was his driving force, his desire to get revenge on those who had perpetrated the atrocity, and reclaim what had been stolen from him.
Humanity did not learn from the past. In a thousand years, nothing changed except the names of those involved.