A/N: Moving on from shamelessly drawing KiruGon, my lifeless brain led me back to writing about Kurapika. This was supposed to be posted on Kura-chan's birthday but hey, better late than never, right? Right? A birthday shit for our revenge-driven angel. I was kinda messed up during my day too, so...
Please leave a review. I really need those right now. Thank you, you awesome people who read my stories. You are all amazing, lemme hug you ^^
Here's a KurapikaXGon-ish unadulterated pureness for everyone (because KuraGon took my heart first before KiruGon stole all of my feels uwu)
DISCLAIMER: Togashi's characters.
BREAKEVEN
Silence.
A cold dead silence filled the dark, insipid room inside a ruined mansion. Not a thing can be seen inside the dusk-enclosed world–nothing, but a pair of scarlet eyes turning its gaze up the uncovered black sky with its never changing hue of bright passionate red.
Silence, Kurapika thought–his pale blank face void of any emotion. Finally. He closed his eyes and reminded himself to breathe. Finally…
The crisp, dry breeze of the midnight wind that howled all over the city let itself in and danced gracefully in a circling motion over the silhouettes on the floor–tickling every living human's system with the scattered fumes of gore and death.
"Kurapika."
"Yep?"
"Remember, when bad people come at us, you have to run and protect yourself, alright?"
"What? Mom, you're weird. What's with you all of a sudden?"
"Promise me."
"I definitely won't!"
"Eh? No, honey, you should!"
"I will protect you and father and this village first. I'm not gonna run. Running away is for losers!"
"Oh? Haha~ Is that so? Alright then, but you have to live, ne, Kurapika. No matter what happens, you have to live…"
What a pointlessly pathetic promise. Kurapika flicked his eyelids open–irises illuminating the dark room with its scarlet gaze, still. He felt nothing–not even a single drop of blood splashing on his bare skin when his enemies gushed the pure crimson liquid out of their throats, nor a single tingle of fear or rush of excitement when he discovered them infiltrating the mansion, nor a slight sting of pain from the hits he willingly took. All he felt was the rage and fury he felt seven years ago–even greater. And it blinded him–his mind, heart, and body–with the colour that matches his emotions.
But nonetheless… He blinked. The brightness that filled his scarlet pupils disappeared. His irises resembled no life. They suddenly became empty and drained and dead. Kurapika turned his limping gaze ahead. I destroyed them. That counts, right? He took a step forward and the sound of rustling chains echoed loud inside the walled ruin with the sound of a body dropping brutally on a pool of mud. Kurapika's left eye twitched when he felt his broken body crash to the flooded floor. He held on to his stomach and tried sitting up, realizing that his physical brawn was not as numb as his soul. He was somehow glad about this fact; being able to feel physical pain just to confirm his living existence. But pain, pain seemed to have invaded his system. His ribs were shattered, his left arm was broken, and his throat was slashed. He did not feel all of those not until he finished his task. Kurapika let out a silent cry of pain, desperately instructing his throat to not release any sound.
"No matter what happens, you have to live."
Kurapika winced as he forced his shaking legs and cracked body to stand up. "Mother…" he exhaled roughly. He looked at the starless infinity once again, his scarlet eyes bathing in liquid. "What's there to live for now?" Kurapika whispered, closing his eyes.
A few seconds of pure silence passed and a familiar sound filled the room. Kurapika opened his eyes slowly and hoisted something from his pocket with his bloodstained hands, pressing the answer button voluntarily and pushing the object to his left ear without a single care in the world.
"Kurapika!"
And just as instantly, Kurapika's colourless face was tinted with paint; with the feeling of guilt and shame running against his skin. But as strangely atypical as his own being at that time, he also felt a slight tingle of faith in his hopeless existence. G–
"Hello, Kurapika! Are you there?"
The excited tone of the voice from the other line somehow eased Kurapika's tainted soul. But he also wondered why he did not want the involvement of such people at this certain hour of his life. "Yes." He swallowed hard. "Gon."
"Did something happen? Why do you sound so tired? Oh! Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry!"
Yet despite the self-utterance, Kurapika's eyebrows creased, alarmed as to why Gon was calling him in the middle of the night. Did…? "Gon, why did you call? Are you alright?"
"What? You don't remember?"
And everything shifted to a different spot. What…?
"Happy birthday, Kurapika!"
Kurapika blinked. What…? Then looked up. Birthday…?
"No matter what happens, you have to live."
"Mom, why are you saying that all of a sudden? It's weird. Cut it out."
"Nothing I just thought I tell you this because you're twelve now and soon father and I would not be able to carry you to safety when something bad happens so you have to–"
"Of course, mom! And when I get older, I'm gonna go fight the bad guys myself!"
"Alright, alright! Happy birthday, my Kurapika…"
"Kurapika… Kurapika!"
The scarlet hue of earlier disappeared into gray irises as Kurapika continued to blink the thought into reality.
"Kurapikaaaa. Did you fall asleep?"
His answer was abrupt but silent. "No…"
"Then, I wish you collect all of the scarlet eyes this year!"
A voluntary convex curve formed on the corner of Kurapika's lips. He smiled wholeheartedly and painfully.
"And… Ah! I hope we could get to see each other again soon, Kurapika!"
Hah… He looked down where no one could see his face. "Thank you, Gon. We should see each other again soon," he breathed out in a whisper.
"Oh! And stay in touch, ne, Kurapika! Happy birthday again! Sorry if I disturbed you in your sleep."
A slight sting cut through the blonde's chest a little. He looked around and traced the flood of blood with his melancholy gaze. "No, I was out… for work anyway."
"Great!"
A wounded smile. "Is there anything else?"
"Ano… I was hoping I could talk to you more. But," a deep yawn was heard from the other line, "you must be tired now. Goodnight, Kurapika! Happy birthday again!"
"Goodnight, Gon."
"Night!"
Kurapika lowered his arm, right hand gripped tightly on his phone. Oh.
A small tad of hope and colour fought its way back into the Kuruta's tainted soul. He looked up with a slight smile plastered on his ever so blank face and blinked. Is that what you mean, mom? The wind howled again. He closed his eyes and felt the breeze touch his scathed, scratched, and bruised face.
Then I'll surely live… to see them again.
