A/N: Seeing as this AU does take place in Tokyo, Japan, I will be using a lot of the suffixes and social distinctions seen in Japanese culture. That means -san, -senpai, -kun, all that glorious stuff will be integrated. I usually don't use them that often since my settings are often outside of Japan itself, but I thought it was appropriate for this AU.
Ages:
Kurapika, Chrollo, most of the PT – 17
Pairo, Gon, Killua – 15
Poppies in Red:
Chapter One
1-14-10 Kiku no Niwa, Chao-Ku, Tokyo 103-8259
The walls of apartment 22 always smelled of mildew, also known as that musty, old book smell, and Kurapika could never quite get rid of it. She tried, of course. Air fresheners, from sea breeze to vanilla bean paste, deep cleaning, she even tried her hand at baking to get rid of it. Eventually, after checking the cost of professional Odor-removers, she gave up. Let the place smell like old books and Victorian-era closets, see if she cared.
It still annoyed her from time to time. Especially in the mornings, when she'd just be waking up to the invasive odor at the cusp of dawn. The view outside her window, however, never ceased to catch her breath, and as she shrugged on her school-issued jacket, she lingered there. Then, as if she hadn't been entranced by the golden ribbons for even a second, the girl walked out the white-washed door.
She knocked three times on Pairo's door, before twisting the doorknob and peering inside. This side of the apartment got less light than hers, and the sky outside still shone with their emerging star. The room was small, and a bit messy, though they tried to keep any sort of chaos to a minimum for Pairo's sake. On the bed, under the thick, cream comforter, lay a boy with soft, pale features and dark hair.
A smile tugged at her petal pink lips as she walked over to his bedside.
"Pairo," she uttered, softly, running a hand through her cousin's hair. Her fingertips brushed over the healing scar on his forehead, and she skillfully ignored the throbbing sensation in her heart. It's your fault. It wasn't. She was through with feeling guilty. Now she needed to be there for him. "Pairo, wake up."
The boy stirred, grumbling a bit, but his eyes slowly opened to reveal two chocolate irises. "Already?"
"Welcome to high school," she chuckled. "Where no one cares about the amount of sleep you get."
"I hate high school," he retorted, burying his face further into his pillow. Kurapika rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but smile more.
The comforter fell out of the boy's grasp, as Kurapika stood and began folding it. "C'mon, education is important."
"Yeah, so is sleep."
"You can sleep in class."
"I can?"
Kurapika pursed her lips, then shook her head, reconsidering. "No. I see kids do it all the time, but as my cousin, you need to set a good example."
Pairo groaned. "I need to set an example now, too?"
"Don't worry, it'll come naturally," Kurapika teased, placing the folded bedding on the edge of the bed. "I'll get your clothes."
She pushed aside the screen door and looked over Pairo's many outfits until she found his uniform. A black blazer, dress shirt, and trousers, perfectly fitted for Pairo. She placed it on the bed.
"I can do it myself," Pairo said, abruptly, taking the uniform.
Kurapika's eyes narrowed in confusion at his insistence but nodded. It was unlike Pairo to raise his voice, but she supposed after weeks of coddling due to his accident he was ready to go back to doing things independently.
"Alright, I'll go make breakfast," she announced, stepping outside.
"Don't burn it this time."
She snorted, "you're never letting me forget that, are you?" He shook his head, and she let the door shut close. The kitchen was compact, like everything else in the apartment, but Kurapika's relentless cleaning had turned it into a gleaming masterpiece. The cabinets and shelves were mostly painted white before she got there, but now any possible stains that had afflicted them had disappeared by the power of some potent dish soap and miraculous upper body strength. The cabinets covered one wall, and in the middle was a polished silver sink, free of any dishes.
Kurapika cracked a few eggs open in a bowl and began to mix like a madman, her eyes wide and focused. A few seconds later, she poured them out into a nonstick skillet and let them sit for a bit. Her spatula went to work, scraping the sides in, but she pursed her lips.
Perhaps she should raise the temperature a bit. They were in a hurry.
Turning the heat up, she continued to repeat the process. Smoke slowly curled up from the pan, but she was certain it was just steam.
A hand reached over the stove and swiveled the temperature knob back to zero.
"They're done."
Kurapika frowned. "Are you sure?" She wouldn't want either of them to wind up in the hospital with food poisoning.
Pairo paused for a second, then said, "yes," and walked to sit at the table.
The girl pouted but placed the rubbery eggs on the table. She sat down and dug into the admittedly less than stellar breakfast. Maybe she should just start buying breakfast at the convenience stores scattered throughout the city.
. . .
The city was alive with spring, basically singing at this point. School started every year on April 15th, and with the cherry blossoms in full bloom, it usually put everyone in a good mood to start the year off.
Pairo could no longer see the cherry blossoms, but he remembered what they looked like vividly. The scent was everywhere, clinging to everything, and he could picture the trees as if they were real. Dark wood haloed with light pink, it was his favorite sight. The reason he loved walking through this street.
And now it was gone.
His cousin squeezed his hand, leading him ahead, and whispering something in his ear that he couldn't make out. He was too busy trying to keep it together.
Kurapika and Pairo went to the same high school, but this would be Pairo's first year there. Understandably, Pairo was a bit nervous. Not only was he going to be spending much of his time in this building, but everyone in the building knew his prodigy cousin: The class president, head of the discipline committee, creator of the discipline committee, the highest-ranking student in the prefecture. Kurapika had many flaws, but none of them showed up on paper. Pairo had a quick mind and an affection for learning, but he was no leader. He had none of Kurapika's ferocity.
"Hey!" There it was.
Pairo knew Kurapika had disappeared from his side at that point. He could make out her yelling at some poor soul and edged away from the scene. Kurapika said they were near his class anyway.
"Are you Pairo?"
Pairo turned in the direction of the voice. He couldn't see anything, but he moved on instinct at this point.
"Y-yes?"
A hand grasped his. "I knew it was you! You look a bit like Kurapika, you know?"
"And you are?" Pairo managed, trying to remain polite. The other boy laughed, nervously.
"Oh, I'm Gon. Kurapika asked me to look after you," he explained. "Did you know we're in the same class? Isn't that cool?"
Pairo averted his eyes, and murmured, "oh . . . yeah."
The hand around his tightened, and he was suddenly being dragged by the boy. He nearly tripped, but quickly regained his balance and broke into a sprint to catch up with Gon. His cousin probably wouldn't panic too much if she realized he was gone. After all, he could still hear her arguing with that student.
. . .
Honestly, how hard was it to follow the proper code of conduct?
Kurapika strut toward the boy in black. From afar, it might seem that the boy was following the rules perfectly, but she wouldn't be fooled. His hair was far too messy, the first few brass buttons of his school-issued uniform were unbuttoned, and worst of all, he was wearing gaudy jewelry completely unfit for a young student.
"Hey!" she called. The boy turned to her with silver eyes. He gave her a curious look, with one finely arched eyebrow raised in inquiry. Pretty, he was, maybe even handsome, but she'd dealt with beautiful men before. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Pardon?"
She reached into her bag to retrieve a black, thin-toothed comb. "Your hair's an absolute mess. And those earrings, don't you know it's against the rules to wear jewelry on school grounds. You're a representative of the school for goodness' sake, show some dignity!"
"I see," he said, glancing down at his attire. "I was not aware that the school's dress code was so strict."
His speech was so formal. Perhaps she wouldn't have to resort to her more drastic methods.
"We take our code of conduct very seriously . . ."
"Chrollo Lucilfer."
"Lucilfer-san."
"Just Chrollo is fine."
Kurapika gave him a stern look. "Remember your place, Lucilfer-san. We are not on such friendly terms that we can begin dropping all formalities."
The boy pouted. "Lucilfer-san is so stiff, though."
"I don't care," Kurapika retorted, sharply, reaching out to take hold of his blazer. She began to button up the last few brass pins. "We are all a part of this community, therefore we must all follow the rules."
"Quite stiff yourself, aren't you," Lucilfer mumbled, peering down at her. Her face turned up to meet his pensive, silver gaze. Too close, far too close to be appropriate. A boy whooped as he walked by, undoubtedly not recognizing her, otherwise he wouldn't have dreamt of doing such a disgraceful thing. She withdrew her hands from Lucilfer's uniform and took a few steps back.
"Please remember to make yourself look presentable in the future," she said, handing him her comb. Then, without another word, she walked away.
. . .
She was quite pretty.
That was the first thing that popped into Chrollo's mind as the young woman stalked over to him. He wasn't sure why. It was a rare occurrence for him to label someone as beautiful or ugly from the start. Chrollo wasn't that type of person. Perhaps that went to show that the girl walking toward him was extraordinarily beautiful. Perhaps it was simply hormones and this girl fit his "type", whatever that was.
The next thing he noticed was that she looked quite angry.
"Hey!"
Scratch that, she was furious.
He never got her name in the duration of her lecture, but by the end, he wasn't really interested in getting to know the girl. Chrollo had seen her type before: Ice Queens, probably tortured by some dark past, sticklers for rules. His personality always clashed with them and he really didn't have time for that.
"Danchou!" Shalnark had found him, strutting forward with his blazer unbuttoned and a large smile on his face. "I knew I'd find you here."
Chrollo glanced to his right, where proud, glass doors showed off an expansive library. This was part of the reason he picked this academy, albeit only a small portion. Tokyo Metropolitan Mokuteki High School, while it appeared much like any other school from the outside, had a gem of a library. Ancient scrolls, perfect copies of various historical accounts, an extensive wealth of knowledge that put others to shame. He could spend years in there and still only scratch the surface. Why this school of all places held such precious literary works, no one knew, but no one seemed in a rush to claim them as their own either.
"Did you find anything, Danchou?"
"Call me Chrollo here, Shalnark. People would get suspicious if you started calling me boss," Chrollo said, walking ahead to his designated classroom. It should be close by.
As the two of them walked side by side, Shalnark continued to chatter on, and Chrollo continued to listen dutifully. "Did you know that girl is the Head of the Discipline Committee, at the top of her class, and the Class Pres. She's pretty well-known. And really pretty, too. She can discipline me any time."
Machi hit him over the head, joining them silently as usual. "Don't be so vulgar, Shal."
"Sorry, Machi," Shal said, laughing nervously. He turned back to Chrollo. "What's she like?"
"Nothing extraordinary," Chrollo replied. They walked into the classroom, and Chrollo's heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell on a pretty young woman dressed in red and black, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail as per school code. It seemed fate kept pushing them together. Well, he never found a reason to fight it before.
Shalnark walked ahead, his blazer now buttoned and his hair freshly combed. With the confidence of a much more experienced lover, he approached her with a genial smile. The girl looked up, dark brown eyes inquisitive. They exchanged a few words, as Shalnark sat down in the seat beside her.
"That idiot," Machi mumbled. "High school relationships are basically another word for heartbreak. Doesn't he know we'll be leaving in a couple months anyway?"
Chrollo chuckled, "don't worry about Shal. He's just fooling around."
"He shouldn't play with a young woman's feelings like that," Machi chided. They took their own seats near the window, never ceasing their conversation. "His thoughtlessness will get him in trouble someday."
"It also happens to be the thing that draws people to him," Chrollo said, gazing out towards the cherry blossoms. He'd seen them so many times that they were almost mundane to look at. It goes to show that overexposure could make anything too sweet.
"How's Paku?" Machi asked, still clearly bitter about Shalnark's attempted fling with Kurapika.
"Working. Her classes don't start until one."
"Must be nice being a college student," Machi grumbled, letting her head fall on the desk.
. End of Chapter .
A/N: Thought this would be a good place to stop. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Remember to always review, favorite, and follow. Thank you! And yes, I did go the route of ShalKura. I really enjoyed reading about it in Nispedana and Sweets Dreamer's fics, so I thought I'd experiment with their relationship in here too. It's not going to be a love triangle, I promise.