So this is a collab fic from Chocoholic221B and me. It's for Kurapika's birthday (but work got in the way for me to post it on time.) Anyways, I hope ya all enjoy reading it!
The Great Thawing of Kurapika Kurta
When was the last time he had felt this lonely?
Kurapika's hands clutched the silver drop earring, the cold chain digging into his palm. Sometimes, it felt almost suffocating to wear it all the time. Others, he worried it would slip off and shatter on the floor, his only tie to his parents other than their legacy torn to shreds. Memories. So many memories were reflected in that gleaming metal.
"Kurapika, you did it! You did it! YOU DID IT!" his mother cheered from the stands as her son waved to the roaring crowds. Ice skating had been his passion since a young age. The sound of his blades on ice, the wind streaking through his golden hair: he could only describe those feelings as complete and utter bliss. He'd smile until his cheeks hurt and his lips grew numb from being pulled up at the corners. His mother would mirror his grin, jumping up and down in the bleachers with her hands in the air. His father would just give him a small smile and a proud little nod.
It had been a present after his first competition: The proud heirloom of the Kurta clan. He remembered seeing it dangle off his mother's ear and wondering when it would be his turn to wear it. What a fool he'd been, wanting to carry the weight of someone else's legacy.
Bringing the single ruby adorned in silver to his petal-pink lips, Kurapika's eyes burned into the ceiling above him. His neighbours were 'partying' again. Also known as being total assholes with no respect for other people's sleeping schedules. Kurapika pulled the blanket over his head, trying to block out the noise, the loneliness. Blocking things out had become his only coping mechanism after his parents passed away. From the small crack in his blanket, he saw bright light filter in and mottle the walls and floor with a wide array of colours. His room was on the fourteenth floor of an apartment in central Zwaldani: One of the most prosperous cities in the world. Only the richest of the rich could possibly dream of living here. Kurapika had been forced to. He'd prefer the quiet atmosphere of the suburbs, somewhere near a forest. But that hadn't been in the cards for him.
On the nightstand, his phone lit up. A message from his chief advisor, the man who had known his parents even better than Kurapika. Mizaistom was one of the few people Kurapika still tolerated in this world. He was the current CEO of his parents' company, as Kurapika couldn't inherit it until he turned twenty one. If he could, he'd make sure that time never came.
He left the phone untouched, and turned away from it, guilt closing in on him. Then, the heir closed his eyes, disappointed with himself for even wanting to run away.
XXX
Rain pounded on the windows outside. What a way to start the day. With clouds looming ominously in the sky, as if to tell him today would be even worse than yesterday so he shouldn't get his hopes up. Kurapika snorted. No worries, god, there was no chance of that happening.
It was a struggle to keep his eyes open when the weather was just right for staying under a blanket, curled up in bed with a good book and a mug of coffee. But alas, he was not in bed and his attention was currently needed elsewhere. He absentmindedly wrote down the notes as written on the board, his mind occupied by the text Mizaistom had sent last night.
Impromptu meeting at five - M
Impromptu meetings were never good, and Kurapika couldn't keep his anxiety at bay. There were a million different things that could go wrong. He hated not knowing exactly what. He liked having control, and being clueless was the opposite.
His hand froze, suddenly, the lead still touching the page.
What if the company was going under? He'd heard their supply prices had gone up again. What if his inheritance had been contradicted by some overlooked part of his parents' will? What if Mizaistom is terminally ill and needs him to take over sooner? What if they need him to drop out of school?
The pencil tip snapped and fell to the floor somewhere, simultaneously breaking him out of his panic attack. Professor Yorkshire gave him a concerned side glance, before returning to her work as if nothing happened.
Kurapika tried to focus on the words scrawled across the board. His hand shook slightly, making his writing ever-so-slightly messier than usual. The words Professor Yorkshire spoke barely registered. Lucky for him, biology is mostly reliant on memorizing things. His grades wouldn't be hurt from a small attention relapse in the middle of one class.
What is he saying, that had been at least five minutes. Five minutes equal three hundred seconds.
He sat up straighter, hoping it would somehow grant him the ability to focus on this riveting lecture about . . . enterokinase, was it?
"So class, can anyone explain to me how trypsin functions?"
A few seconds passed, and his peers let their eyes expectantly wander to him, waiting for their good ol' friend Kurapika to bail them out of this one. His hand began to rise, as he deliberated why it had taken him so long to respond. But before Professor Yorkshire could call on him, somebody else took the opportunity to answer, "it catalyses the hydrolysis of peptide bonds."
Well, Mister Velvety Voice, Kurapika would have you know that in his school you do not interrupt the people that had been patiently waiting their turn. Troublemakers. The worst kind of makers.
"Very good. And why does it help in breaking down peptide bonds?"
"Breaking peptide bonds breaks the protein into smaller forms which can be easily absorbed by the blood stream."
"That is correct, thank you, Mr Lucilfer." Professor Yorkshire acknowledged the rest of the class. "As Mister Lucilfer said, trypsin catalyses the hydrolysis, it does not cause the hydrolysis. Claiming it causes hydrolysis in your paper will lead to no marks."
As they all took notes, Kurapika sneaked a glance at the devilishly (no pun intended) handsome Lucilfer. What a strange name that was. His parents must've been quite the interesting pair. Unlike the others, he wasn't taking notes, choosing to look at the clock above the board. Kurapika followed his gaze. Ten more minutes.
XXX
"Kurapika."
Whirling around, Kurapika caught sight of his caller. He stood about three feet away from him in the corridor, clutching his bag to his side. Kurapika turned around to face him, saying nothing. The raven-haired boy smiled at this lack of reaction and took a step towards him. One thing Kurapika would never understand about this boy was his insistence to call people by their first names. Or his persistence in stepping into people's personal space. He didn't step back though. Somewhere in the farthest corner of his brain he could hear his father's quiet voice.
'Stepping back is a sign of intimidation. That's one of the best ways you can lose a deal.'
"Yes, Lucilfer?"
The other boy's smile widened. "You can call me by my first name, you know."
Kurapika simply stared back into Lucilfer's grey eyes. It was like staring into an abyss. There was nothing there, save for a small spark of amusement. Kurapika bristled. He didn't trust that look.
"Anyhoo, I wanted to get a headstart on that group project. We are meeting at my house at 7. You'll come, right?"
It took Kurapika just under five seconds to find a vacant time slot in his busy schedule. He wasn't going to say no to getting a project work done as soon as possible. With Chrollo, Machi, Shalnark, and him, they could get it done in two days tops.
"I'll be there." Now, leave.
Noticing that Kurapika wasn't going to say a word more, the other boy took the responsibility to keep the conversation going.
"It'll be just the three of us I am afraid. Shalnark won't be able to come."
Kurapika shrugged. He preferred smaller groups, and frankly, he was a bit relieved. Shalnark might have been intelligent but he had never seemed reliable to Kurapika. Machi was just as serious as him.
"Ok." Now, leave.
His raven-haired classmate seemed to deflate a bit at his harsh, cutting tone. Kurapika didn't care. As long as it got him to leave, let him deflate. "Alright. See you soon, Kurapika."
XXX
Phinks was right about Kurapika being an outright annoying prat.
But he was a gorgeous, attractive, incredibly sophisticated, witty, annoying prat. What fun it would be to claim him as his own. To see him gradually let down all those walls and let Chrollo slither inside that cold heart of his. The thrill of the chase had never been so apparent. And what a prize Kurapika would be. The famed Ice King. What would it take to thaw him? If for nothing else other than to win that silly bet Phinks had forced him into.
Chrollo smiled to himself.
That blond, brown-eyed beauty was as good as his.
As soon as he reached the mansion again, he called Machi up. As soon as he heard his pink-haired friend's distinctively monotonous greeting, he replied, "Tell the others that I'm busy after seven. You're supposed to be here as well, technically. Tell anybody who asks that you had caught a terrible cold. That should silence them. Okay?"
"Yes."
It scared Chrollo sometimes that entire conversations with this girl involved him talking most of the time and getting only a "yes" for straining his vocal cords.
"Ok. Thanks, Machi. I'll see you later."
"Yes."
XXX
Kurapika was at his front door at seven sharp, not a second too early, not even a spill into the 'too late' category.
"Hey," Chrollo smiled his most charming smile, drinking in the sight before him. Perfectly windswept blond hair fell just a few centimeters above his shoulders, framing his pale face. His cherry blossom pink lips, probably soft to the touch, though Chrollo didn't dare test his theory out just yet. Brown eyes peered out at him, emotionlessly. No matter. He'd turn that gaze into one of love in no time. He wore a red jacket paired with dark jeans and a light grey shirt. It was a nice change to see him not wearing a uniform. It made him look less stressed.
Gorgeous. He was absolutely stunning.
Chrollo gestured at the mansion's interior and said, "come on in."
"Is Machi here?" Kurapika asked, in lieu of a greeting. "I want to begin as soon as possible."
Chrollo simply closed the door behind him and pointed to the staircase. "My room's on the second floor, we should go there." He noticed that Kurapika's face pulled into a adorable little frown when the dark-haired boy swerved around his question. Still, he didn't comment on it and followed Chrollo up the stairs.
As soon as Kurapika sat down on the couch in his room, Chrollo broke the news to him. "I called Machi as soon as I got home. She said that she was feeling a little poorly after she reached her home. She is sorry that she can't come today."
His beautiful classmate sighed, almost sounding disappointed now. "So, it's just the two of us now."
Yes, just you and me. Here. Alone.
He needed to concentrate. As much as he found Kurapika an attractive young fellow, he wasn't after that side of the equation. It was the boy's heart he was targeting. That arctic, icy heart.
"Yeah, good thing we don't have to choose the topic. Or else they would have made us do all the work." Chrollo said with a smile.
Kurapika did not smile back. It was time to change tactics.
"So where do we start from? I got a book from the library which I think can help."
Kurapika simply stretched out an arm without a word. Chrollo handed him the said book as he sat down beside him. For a few minutes, Kurapika flipped through the book while Chrollo gazed at him, both of them lost in their own respective worlds.
"I'm flattered," Kurapika suddenly spoke, "but I would really prefer not having to analyze this passage with a pair of eyes burning into my skull."
Chrollo chuckled. Goodness, what a prick. "My apologies. I just never noticed that earring you're wearing. Is it new? I never thought you the type to accessorize."
"It was a gift. Can we move on?"
So, there was a story behind it. Chrollo zeroed in on the earring once more. It was just a simple crystal gem hanging from a silver chain. Nothing special as far as he could tell. And yet, he somehow felt it was the key to the lock that held Kurapika's walls together. It was the first step. He needed to find out about the earring.
"So where should we start?" the blond asked, his eyes flicking back to meet his. Chrollo smiled as he gazed back, not caring that he might make Kurapika uncomfortable. He needed to let the blond know that he was interested in him without outrightly stating it.
"Yes" he replied. "I was thinking we should get started on the themes, seeing as that's pretty much our work, Kurapika."
"Working with only the themes won't make the project stand out. We can include how Shakespearian characters were different from the other available plays of that time, highlight which emotion is the trademark of each character and lead up to the themes. The apparent and the underlying ones."
"Okay Kurapika."
His voice ended the last syllable in a caress, his gaze fixed on Kurapika's face. Kurapika gave him a look that could only be defined as an intermediate between perplexed and disbelieving. The expression lasted for a good few seconds while he stared at Chrollo, whose obstinate little smile never faded for even a second. It felt nice, Chrollo thought, It felt nice to get under his skin.
"Chrollo are you alright?"
"I am fine." This time, there was a definite purr as he drew out the 'i'.
"Really? It looks to me as if you are high on something."
Chrollo couldn't tell if Kurapika was teasing him but knowing the blond's no nonsense attitude, it was a safe bet that he definitely did not mean it as a joke. He immediately sat up straighter and shrugged.
"I am just glad we are on this together. I have never worked with you in a group before."
"Right," muttered Kurapika. Glancing at the book once more, he said, "So which theme would you like to work on the most?"
Chrollo smiled. "Definitely love."
It was heartbreaking to see Kurapika simply turn to another page. "Then I choose deception."
XXX
Kurapika was getting annoyed with each passing second.
Two people can never ever get much work done for a project assigned to four people. Though they could discuss some of the finer points without any interruption, they were moving at an incredibly slow pace. For the past hour, they had managed to make mincemeat of only Hero's character. Kurapika checked their notes. Six more characters plus a multitude of themes to go. On top of that, the recent meeting with Mizai had left him rather disturbed. One of their executive officers almost dying due to peanut allergy was not the kind of news he wanted to hear.
"You okay?"
And not to mention a partner who deemed asking him banal questions every couple minutes as if his life depended on it.
This was the one hundred and eighth time he had heard that question in the past one hour, and Kurapika simply snapped.
"I am fine. Can you stop asking me that?"
"Alright, Kurapika."
Chrollo did not look upset or taken aback in the slightest. Instead, he looked even more complacent. That, if possible, made him feel even worse.
"Hey," his voice came out as a whisper, and Kurapika immediately hated himself for it. To himself, he sounded weak and resigned.
"Yes, Pika?"
And his fury returned with the burning strength of a thousand fiery stars.
"Don't ever call me that. Please."
"Ok," his classmate answered. Kurapika did not say anything further, but he certainly did not like the vile smile on Chrollo's face. Chrollo seemed to smile a lot though, his brain thought, especially when he was around. "What did you want to talk about?"
"This part about Claudio," he showed him the book, pointing to the paragraph with his index finger. "It does not highlight his remorse after he heard the news of Hero's death. I think it's quite important."
Chrollo's eyebrows raised once more. "Allow me." He gently took the book from the blond's arms. For some reason, the simple action made the blond's anger bristle once more. He felt as if Chrollo was treating him like a precious doll of his, as if a little pressure would make him crumble to tiny unfixable pieces.
Like an artifact.
The scowl on his face deepened and his fingers curled. He needed to relax. He needed to get out of here.
All Kurapika's mind knew was that it was tired of the anger and pain bubbling like lava under its surface. They always wanted an out, and when they did find an exit, he hardly felt better about it.
"You are going to get wrinkles, you know. And cross-eyed too, if you keep staring at stuff like that."
His eyes widened and Kurapika felt his anger die down a bit, replaced by some heavy self-deprecation regarding his slip-up. "It's nothing. Just stressed, that's all."
"Trouble in the company?" Chrollo asked, and for a second, Kurapika forgot to be suspicious.
"How do you know about the compa -"
"My dear classmate, everyone knows about the company. The media follows you everywhere. I heard one of your executives had a near-death experience."
"Then, you already know more than you should. Shall we move on to Claudio and his guilt trip?" He huffed, the forever present anger now a mere shadow replaced by the cloud of suspicion. He was sure that the news about the executive had yet to reach the media's ears.
"Relax. A friend of mine is an intern at your company. He lives with me here. He told me about it during breakfast."
"Your friend? Is he a family friend of your parents?"
Chrollo stared at him. "I am an orphan. A few of my friends fund my schooling."
"Oh" Kurapika had hated hearing the same statement coming from the mouths of strangers, distant relatives, Mizai and those executives-who-couldn't-care-less-but-had-to-for-the-cameras at the funeral but he still said it to Chrollo because really, what else could he say? "I am sorry."
"Don't say that," Chrollo chided him. "I hardly knew them."
"Oh," he said again. The 3 seconds of silence that followed between them was infinitely more awkward for Kurapika, especially because Chrollo was still smiling. "Right."
"So, Claudio?" Chrollo asked and Kurapika gladly jumped at the out. He was thankful really, that Chrollo had not pried more about his parents.
For Kurapika, time never slowed down when he was studying. So when his phone five minutes before 9, Kurapika was in a daze, wishing uselessly that nobody interrupt them when he was on a roll and his partner had actually taken important notes. As soon as he saw the caller ID though, he checked the time and gasped. Chrollo looked up at him from his book and simply asked, "Your guardian?"
"Yeah," drawled Kurapika as he received the call.
"Kurapika? Are you still at your friend's house?"
"Yes Mizai-san."
"I am sending the car to pick you up. It's getting late. Don't leave the house until Squala calls you. Now, please give the phone to your friend."
Kurapika was surprised at the command, nevertheless he passed his cell to Chrollo, who was still looking at him, but now he looked surprised as he took the phone from the blond's hand with that annoying gentleness Kurapika was starting to hate.
Chrollo listened to the phone intently, responding with an occasional "Yes, Sirs." Though he had no way of knowing what Mizaistom was saying, he still gazed at Chrollo as if he could.
After a last "Yes, Sir," Chrollo handed him back his cell, a small smile on his face. Kurapika raised an eyebrow at him.
"He told me not to keep you with me for so long. Apparently you show the symptoms of early workaholism and wants me to help you avoid it for as long as possible."
"He did not say that."
The chuckle that followed this statement made Kurapika narrow his eyes even more.
"Okay maybe he didn't say anything about the workaholism part," Chrollo conceded, "But it doesn't take a genius to know that you are addicted."
"Chrollo."
"He just asked me to keep you here until your car pulls over. And that I shouldn't keep you with me for so long simply to discuss a group project." Chrollo raised his arms at the suspicious look on Kurapika's face. "I swear that's all he said."
The blond raised an eyebrow.
"So how long do we have? I'll help you pack your things."
Kurapika checked his watch. "Squala should be here in 20 minutes. We can still continue with our work."
Chrollo gave him a disbelieving look. "Seriously? Aren't you going to give Machi and Shal a chance to work at this? They need to learn stuff too you know." Kurapika smiled.
"Well, I guess I could leave it at here for now." Picking up the book, he stood up. "Here."
"Place it on the table," the raven head said while arranging their notes. When the room was back to its relatively clean self, Kurapika looked at the bookcase that covered the span of an entire wall. He moved towards it to observe the titles more closely. Paperbacks and hardbacks and textbooks and scientific journals, all alphabetized and free of dust, their spines gleaming with cleanliness. Chrollo stayed put on his bed, silently observing the blond.
"You have a nice collection," the blond complimented, his fingers touching the spine of a Livingstone book. "I didn't take you for one who reads explorer stories."
"I read anything that piques my interest. Be it a romance novel or a book on astrophysics. I don't really have any preference." Just then Kurapika's phone rang. "And it looks like our time together is up."
It made Chrollo ridiculously happy that Kurapika did look a little crestfallen by the statement.
"Shame. And I thought we were making good progress."
Chrollo stood, gesturing for him to follow with that same smile on his face. "Come on, I'll walk you to the door."
Squala had parked right in front of the palatial establishment's door. He had even opened the door to the backseat, grinning at him. Kurapika gave him a smile back, while Chrollo stood beside him, the ever-present smile still on his face. The blond turned once more to face his classmate.
"It was nice working with you Chrollo," he gave a curt bow, "see you tomorrow."
To his surprise the raven head boy laughed and pulled him into a hug.
"Stop being so formal," his breath on the back of Kurapika's neck made the blond shiver with all sorts of feelings running through him. "See you tomorrow, too," he said, releasing the other boy, who stood shell-shocked for a second.
Kurapika wanted to punch him for this major breach of his personal space but Squala was looking and really, his brain reasoned, it's just a friendly hug. Gon and Leorio hugged him all the time. It's not like his classmate had pushed him up against the wall and kissed him.
He did not know why his brain came up with that reasoning, but now he had the mental image and his mental recycling bin was refusing to tear it to shreds. Lovely. His brain failed him when he most needed it.
On the way back home, when Squala asked him if they were good friends, the blond found himself answering, "Yes."
So the idea for this fic is Choco-san's (whose works you should totally check out) and if you felt that it was a good read, well, Chocoholic221B takes the credit too for grammar and syntax correction (Ntm characterisation too.)
As always reviews are our food and oxygen. We both would love to know what you think of this!