*HxH Disclaimer*
Author's note: The fic's dominant timeline is almost two months after the York Shin auction and the Genei Ryodan Arc. Woo-hoo. Yet another of those fics that tackle Kurapika vs. himself vs. Genei Ryodan vs. past. Hooray, hope ye chaps don't get sick of it! =P
Anyways, off we go!
The Bridge to Being
by: DW-chan
Two: The Brook-Child
The date marked on a calendar that hung somewhere on one of the rich walls of a study in the Nostrad Mansion marked the second day of November. It was said in a more religious than supernatural scale that on that particular date the souls of the dearly departed instituted momentary visitations to remind the living of their once subsistent presence in the physical world.
A boy of no more than seventeen years of age was settled in one of the mansion's rooms, in the bodyguards' quarters. The mediating hour between midnight and dawn had commenced, and the spirits had begun their allotted journey to check on the living. There was a number of translucent children that hung by the bedside of the said slumbering youth, and their tiny blue faces mirrored immense sadness and estrangement from all spheres of worldly reason. Later on they were discovered to be the ghosts of young Kuruta tribespeople, keeping attached vigil upon their young and living relative. They stayed because their sudden departure from the earthly plane had harshly disoriented them, and until now they did not know where else to go, or if there was such as concept of heaven or any spiritual place fabled to console souls such as theirs. Their only guide to recognize who they still were (or had been) was this young boy, and there were moments in their visits when the temptation to take him with them had been great enough for them to attempt ventures such as touching his face with their cold fingers until a deadly chill would overcome the warmth of his body; or instances when they would try to insecure his footing when he walked in the steep and the slippery so he could eventually lose his balance and fall, and hit his head. But no, the children loved him, for five years ago he was their cousin, their brother, their playmate, their comrade, their fellow countryman. They valued the fact that he still had not joined them, so they clung to him; and he, unconsciously, in every waking moment of his life, clung to them.
The elders had moved on, but the children stayed.
Before the clock struck the first hour of dawn, the child-spirits knew that their hour of departure was at hand; it did not mean that they finally realized that there was indeed another level of spiritual existence where they may proceed after their earthly torments. They will continue to stay; only their opportunities for manifestation will be very limited. It had been decided among them that before they would leave their dear relative's bedside they would proclaim their exit by a declaration poltergeistic in nature.
As morning broke, the little ghosts beheld the sleeping boy's bedroom door, and with a burst of energy, gave the door three, heavy knocks. It was time to say goodbye, for now.
The knocks echoed across the bodyguard's quarters and reverberated more evidently in the ears of the young boy. Upon the third knock, Kurapica burst into abrupt wakefulness.
There was a distinct bleakness in his room that had little to do with the passage of air from an open crevice, but it had left as soon as he had sensed it. Kurapica sat up, short of breath, and drenched in sweat. In his sleep he saw the familiar faces of children. In waking, he witnessed the gray brightness of the first sun's rays that flew from the windows and adorn the room's interior. He trembled a bit from the past chill, and like someone dumbstruck, cast a lasting glance around the room like an open-mouthed simpleton.
It was in that moment when a very precipitous yet very heavy depression washed over him.
The rest of the household were still deep in the recesses of their beds but Kurapica had resorted to step out of his room and walk into the woods that lined the outskirts of the Nostrad mansion. In the woods, he found solace in the sight and sound of a brook which resided there. And that was where he stayed until Senritsu found him.
"You're fond of this place, aren't you?" Senritsu's warm and kind voice gently penetrated the droning comfort which the sounds of the woods emitted. There was a whispering smile that floated with her words and when Kurapica heard them, he lightly acknowledged her presence by turning towards her a few degrees' worth. But he did not say anything. He dipped his fingers into the cool water and stared at the flowing crystalline liquid. Senritsu sighed. The boy had once more built about himself defensive barriers which took special labors to step into.
"You're up early. I happen to have heard you well when you left your room." Her little faithful soul tenderly refused to give in to the boy's aloofness, whether this aloofness was deliberate or not. At least let him know that he was not alone: that was one of the most important aspects of bringing small life to his pallid cheeks, or a miniscule gleam in his tired cerulean eyes.
There were the sounds of chirping birds and scampering rodents: it was autumn and the trees were bursting with the different shades of red and gold. An acorn would spill near the boy's feet once in a while; seven or eight acorns had fallen and he still had not stirred. Senritsu listened to the drumming of her friend's heartbeat and felt as though it beat in her own chest. There was a certain octave in that set of heartbeats that conveyed a very potent sadness, and in a chance of empathy Senritsu felt inclined to submit to it as well. But she dare did not, for the sake of her young friend. Had Senritsu been a less steadfast person she would have fallen into tears, there and then, with that much weight of tribulation that throbbed in the boy's soul. This was the very first time she had felt loneliness in that kind of intensity, particularly Kurapica's. Oftentimes she listened to hatred and vindictiveness in his heartbeat but very seldom, disconsolation. In fact, it was the small but notable amount of disconsolation which surrounded the boy that had drawn her attention to him in the first place, when she had initially encountered him in a train headed to this state not long ago.
What the heartbeat revealed the face did not. Kurapica's expression was blank, as though he looked through everything and anything that came into plain sight. It was as though he were looking beyond the essences of things and his sense of sight took him to voyages in his head, which eventually reached a dead end. He would blink only in intervals of several minutes.
There was little activity in the Nostrad mansion within the day's duration. Mr. Nostrad spent entire hours in his study. Neon had decided to oversleep and when she awoke she did not feel like shopping for the weather was too unbearable "for my complexion," as she had lamely exclaimed; but she primarily had a slight cough which she did not want to worsen by exposing herself to the harmful elements and was generally displeased with it. So she sulked in her chambers, accompanied by her maids, where they played cards for the rest of the afternoon until dinner.
No one really noticed Kurapica's disappearance, for when he re-issued himself into the bounds of the mansion at seven o' clock in the eveningi, the rest of the household did not skip a routine and only greeted him with their automatic good evening, sir's out of sheer habit. Senritsu followed suit with a heavy heart, having not succeeded in her efforts to attain any more responses from him, other than the almost hopeful instant when he had turned to her in the slightest. The boy's desolation was rather very infectious that after dinner, Senritsu had situated herself in front of the piano and played an array of tunes to break even the most composed of hearts (when she felt that she should be doing the exact opposite, which was to play a cheerful piece or two). The night closed without a remnant of a good sob elicited from most of the members of the Nostrad household. Even Neon, in her seemingly unconventional manner of ignoring dampening emotions, orchestrated a bawl.
The next morning, in the same hour, Kurapica was found by the brook then, the day after that. There was a certain gravity the brook held towards the boy which Senritsu could not decipher. So far she still had been the only one who observed her friend's lapses and strange behavior. Even the pattern was uncertain, for on the second day, he returned to the mansion earlier, about five o' clock, checked matters with Bashou and the rest of the remaining bodyguards in a most quiet approach possible, and secluded himself in his room till the next morning, when he left for the woods again. On the third day, he failed to appear in the mansion till about ten o' clock late in the evening, and the weather had been at its worst. It was only to Kurapica's advantage that in those days Neon had not called for attention and shopping sprees for she was preoccupied with her cough and her new wardrobe. What disturbed Senritsu most, however, was that he neglected his meals, so she arranged for a servant to bring the meals to him. In her soft, conceding voice she admonished that particular servant not to inform the rest of the household about Kurapica's condition (who would not suspect, having to bring meals outdoors three days in a row?). Even then, he refused to eat. The food had been laid there for the small beasts to consume. When the servant returned for the empty plates, he only silently questioned the odd relation of an empty plate with a lean, pale, generally unhealthy-looking boy. Senritsu feared a kind of sorcery about, and withheld the remedy of playing on the flute for as long as she suspected it. His heartbeat had been a steady drone from the second day onwards, containing no octaves of emotion at all.
She resulted to call Leorio if on the fourth day Kurapica would take off again. Meeting that agreement, she did give Leorio a call.
"I would have told you sooner, but I was afraid he'd not consent to it," were Senritsu's first words when Leorio had acknowledged her call. "But I can't bear it any longer. He's on it again, and I don't know else what to do about it..."
"Senritsu, is that you? What happened? Why? What do you mean?" Handing Kurapica over to Senritsu's care had been a mutual pact done when Leorio saw her and Kuripica off for their flight back to the Nostrad's from York Shin. Considering the circumstances, it was not surprising at all that Senritsu would call this soon. He was only perturbed on how she sounded. In the calmest voice possible, Senritsu related everything.
"I know three days isn't suspicious enough for most people, but I know what I heard by the sound of his heartbeat, and I didn't like it. I'm suspecting some preternatural cause," Senritsu added, conveying her insights further. "Either that, or it's some kind of psychosis. I don't want to believe either, but there you go, he's out of himself."
"Psychosis?" Leorio was startled by that conclusion, but he had paid attention to the symptoms so he promptly fetched a medical encyclopedia. After a brief silence, he talked again, finding an answer.
"Melancholia. That's what it is! Intense depression of long duration. Causes are usually either when the a patient had suffered a great loss, like a death of a loved one, or any form of abandonment; or when the patient is suffering natural, biological processes, like old age. Well, since I'm pretty sure it possibly can't be the second, I say it's the first. And I say it's pretty damn obvious too, don't you think, Senritsu?"
"Yes; I just don't understand why he had to undergo such depression now. He's a strong person. I've seen it, but I'm only sorry that I haven't known him long enough to support any of my present impressions."
"Well, I could almost say that it's a good sign. Finally, he broke down, let go; do you know what I'm saying? He's been repressing a lot, Senritsu. Putting on that tough demeanor for the sake of sanity. But then again, I'm not a psychiatrist. I haven't even gone through a fourth of my medical proper..."
"A good sign?" Senritsu was a bit more taken aback by the doctor-to-be's perception of the matter. "No, Leorio, I believe it is not a good sign. I'm afraid all it would take is for you to confront him now, to justify my anxiety."
Leorio at once sympathized with the maternal streak which might be present in every young woman and apologized right away. "I'm mighty sorry! You see, I'm a guy, so I may have confronted him in a different way, you know. Like shake him-no, pound him-to his senses. But no, wait, that's too violent; look, I'm sorry again, all right? Okay, here goes, the book advices some treatment-"
"Shock therapy." Senritsu's voice lost its resolution, and suddenly she felt very tired.
"Eh-what's that? Shock therapy?" Leorio had trouble focusing on what to do first: on handling the phone or the number of medical volumes spread before him.
"That's how melancholia is cured, sometimes, if I remember correctly. I've read about people who needed such therapy when they continually remain outside the real world-but am I not correct?" Her voice dispatched the opposite-she hoped she was wrong.
"Ah-yeah! How'd you know? It says right here. Yeah, shock therapy. Oh well, you know, there are other options, like psychotherapy, psychoanalysis, insulin coma shots... uh, yeah, psychotherapy sounds good!" Leorio hoped it was not too late for him to realize that the practice he was striving for involved some prescriptive and even antiquated animosity sometimes. Judging the list of treatments that were mentioned a while ago, he also hoped Kurapica would be the last, difficult challenge.
"I'm terribly worried, Leorio." The affliction in Senritsu's tone could no longer be suppressed.
Moved by Senritsu's unwavering concern, he tried to hearten her with small pieces of friendly comfort, trusting that she felt the weary yet sincere smile on his lips as he spoke. "Talk to him, Senritsu. You're doing fine. He'll snap out of it, you'll see. You may be the only one who can help him do that. I trusted him entirely to your care, and I still do." He also wished to manage to thank her for her compliments back at the York Shin airport, before she and Kurapica took leave.
"Yes, all right. I'll try again today. Tomorrow, if this still goes on-"
"It won't. Now you two take care."
"Thank you, Leorio-kun."
"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. You're welcome."
On her way out, Senritsu encountered a well-groomed Neon Nostrad; the timing was far from impeccable, for the girl had finally decided to seize the day and go shopping once again. Her cough had left her and her complexion was fine. Her employed position compelled Senritsu to momentarily abort her mission and regard her mistress with all the patience she can muster.
"Hello there," Neon brightly spouted when she caught sight of her only female bodyguard. "Say, I'd like to go out today. So where're the other bodyguards? Where's the captain? What's his name-Kurapica, is it? Yah, where is he?"
Senritsu was quite unprepared for this confrontation but she tried her best, nonetheless. "I'm afraid we may have to leave without him, even for today. He-he isn't well, miss."
"What? He's sick?" Senritsu was rather affected by the genuine concern the girl conveyed. "Really? Are you sure? That's okay, we have a family physician. I'll have him called-"
"No, miss! Please-" Senritsu interposed. As much as possible, the option of calling for the physical presence of a physician should be avoided. She placed into mind the inconceivable treatments which may bring Kurapica more harm than help; that is, if the diagnosis of this certain physician matched those of Leorio's. Shock therapy or an insulin coma shot was the last thing the boy needed. No; this will not do.
"No? Why not? Well, personally I don't like seeing doctors too, but if Kurapica doesn't get well soon enough, he's in big trouble, cuz I might as well have Papa get someone else to be in charge." This was one of those throat-constricting instances when the pampered rich man's daughter tried to exercise her authority over her subordinates. Though Senritsu knew that the girl was not wholly serious about that consideration, she understood that her mistress was not at all compliant with the situation.
"Yes, I know. If you would allow him at least another day-"
"Another day? If I call the doctor right now, Kurapica can maybe make it for two o' clock! Two o' clock! I want new pairs of shoes! I need new pairs of shoes!"
It was Eliza, one of her maids, who spoke for Senritsu. "I'm afraid, Miss Neon, that it isn't at all easy to get well. After all, pardon me for saying so, miss, you needed three days to heal your cough."
"Well, does he have a cough too? Well, does he?" Neon demanded of her encumbered bodyguard.
"No, miss Neon, but he-"
"It doesn't matter. All right, I'll give him another day. If he doesn't get well by then, I'll call the doctor, and no one can stop me, and I'll have Papa go talk to him and everything. Okay?"
"Yes, miss."
There was a hint of disgust that tainted Neon's moods after. "Now I don't feel like going out again. It's that ugly weather. Look! It's getting all frosty again. Why doesn't it just snow while it's at it? I'm going to bed."
Relieved of her post, the troubled Music Hunter's soul slowly made its way to the woods and to the brook.
Senritsu approached slowly, as though she were careful not to frighten a tiny animal which she wanted to befriend. She was only equipped with the flute which was as good a spoonful of medicine as it was an instrument. The autumn cold ravaged the smallness of the woods but the boy gave no move to shield his own self from it. He was standing now, and not bending over the brook as he did in the past days. Senritsu sensed something different now in his heartbeat; it was something like clouded reverie. This gave her some comfort-her friend had calmed down a bit.
She now discerned no harm in playing a tune, so she did, and it contested the very sweetness of a songbird's trill. It was a young tune, suited for young ears, and lifted troubled hearts. With a moderate wave of Emission, she let her aura flow to the golden richness around them. The tune, just as it had done before, projected a vision: an endless grassland, where one can run free, unhindered, in blinding, joyful speed if he wanted to. She had begun to concentrate on the second form of her skill when a ghost of a voice tugged at her, irresistibly, but very gently.
"I hope you don't think I'm mad, Senritsu."
These were the first words she heard from the boy after quite some time, and as she ceased her playing, she felt the wholeness of gratitude and warmth spread to her chest. She was overwhelmed that she took her time before she gave discretion to reply. "I-I had thought you were… I'm sorry..."
"I don't blame you. I thought it was madness too at first, but then I realized that..." When he spoke, he had not turned to her. The brook was still the aim of his vision. "...that... I was only thinking, in a way I've never thought of doing for a long time."
"You are lonely." Those words came in their own volition, but Senritsu had been so accustomed to the truth that she had not deemed to hide it from anyone, most especially this troubled youth.
"Yes, I am." His voice sounded like a stain of a once beautiful and vibrant color. It was light and expressive and had an extraordinary poignancy that if a dying man would hear it, he would remember it even as he had gone to the clutches of death and passed to the next life.
Senritsu attempted more conversation with only the faintest hesitation. "What bothers you, Kurapica? This is something which you've not made known to me. Are you willing to talk about it?"
For a moment, the boy neither moved nor responded. It was as though he had stopped breathing altogether, and was now only made of stone. Senritsu sheathed her hearing to that echoing heartbeat, making sure that it had not left him, as though she were warming her frozen hands to a fire. She bade him time, even as she knew that she only had but this day to try and cure him.
"It was their fault that they died, you know." Kurapica professed this like a little child blaming a playmate who had cheated him of a trivial game. "It was their fault. The elders-how they lured us children to the consequences of their pride. That was five years ago, in a morning like this." He turned his head about a bit, and talked matter-of-factly, like someone stating a fact known to all humankind. "I was with the other children, when we discovered that the river was drying up. It was an enormous, angry river, Senritsu; it was. It protected our village from the outside. That created within the tribe an expression of 'us' and 'them'; that the 'them' where those of the outside world, and 'us' were in the inside. But the river was drying up, so we were not safe anymore. Anyone would be brave enough now to cross the receding waters. We children, we knew about this, so we informed the elders at once. But of course, we were children and they were elders-'us' and 'them'-don't you see? I love my nation; that is true, very true, but its society? Sometimes I loathed it. They thought that we were only playing, that's what I remembered. It was summer and it was sometimes natural for water levels to lower a little. There was drought that year as well. I thought we were being punished for something I did not know, only to realize that a greater punishment arrived not long after-"
And then, another lapse of the boy's blankness, of his distant stare and expressionless face. The brook glimmered with its own tune, but its tranquility was a stark contrast to the turmoil in the boy's heartbeat, that she thought the sound of the brook was ghastly.
"It was their fault. And we children paid for it." And he said no more.
An hour passed, then another; a meal had been brought and taken away, but still Senritsu persevered, she, a faithful soul, and waited if an event the boy would still choose to cast away the weight from his heart some more. What he said after four long hours seemed to be worth the wait. It was all that was needed to be known. It was more than just a piece to fill the puzzle-it was in itself an entire, solved puzzle.
"I want to go home, Senritsu. Finally, I want to return again. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm going home."
End of Chapter 2
Reviews, please? (holds up hand as though begging for pennies on the street)
And do be so kind also as to point out some mistakes... I'm always in trouble of doing those... .
Cheers!
DW-chan:-)
