Author's Notes:

PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika). Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika). Leorio/Cheadle.

RATING: Mature. Rough sexual content.

SPOILERS? Yes, until chapter 390 of the Hunter x Hunter manga by Yoshihiro Togashi. You may want to click off until you've caught up with the Succession War Arc, or have decided that you don't care. I do attempt to explain the context for the uninitiated.


Chapter 37: Heights of hedonistic splendor

Midnight in the living room. On her flute, Melody plays a soft lullaby, designed to transmit the sweetest dreams to 14th Prince Woble, who is dozing in her stroller. Accustomed as she is to navigating the tensions and aggressions of the inflated male egos always clashing around her, Melody possesses a particular affinity for fostering insulated pockets of peace.

Swathed safely in her present pocket, and having long since perfected this tune of tranquility, Melody listens in on the different conversations occurring at various locations within the 14th Prince's quarters.

In the queen's bedroom, Queen Oito and Shimano, both novice Nen users, alternately fling out random and occasionally impish questions to the feline beast lounging over the silken sheets. They clutch at each other, gasping and giggling over the Nen beast's responses — a nod for yes, a shake of the head for no.

Unable to see these answers, Melody almost wants to join the queen and Shimano in their fun, but decides to stay where she is. She does allow herself a smile, deriving a simple pleasure from the knowledge that her fellow women living in the 14th Prince's quarters are in such high spirits. They're so close to the end of this voyage, a mere hair's breadth away from the conclusion of the Succession War. While the war's ending may very well be a bad one, any levity at this late stage is warmly welcomed.

In the employees' bedroom, Bill and Basho are lying on separate beds, with neither of them attempting to sleep. Basho is bending Bill's ear about all the sights and sounds of the Dark Continent that he can't wait to experience.

"Here's how I picture life over there," Basho is telling Bill. "I'm lighting up a fat blaze — getting a good start to the day — and riding my motorbike at breakneck speed. I'm tasting fruits, soaking in colors that ain't no one's ever eaten or witnessed before."

"Wow, you took your motorbike with you?" Bill says.

"Do I look like a guy with that kinda baggage to you? Not me! I can easily Conjure anything I need with my Nen ability! Hell, I'll even Conjure another bike for you! We can ride together! This is gonna be a blast!"

Bill only laughs, perhaps a touch nervously.

Kurapika and Cheadle, on the other hand, are conferring alone in the kitchen. While the Chairperson of the Hunter Association came all this way to give him a checkup, Kurapika is staunchly insisting that there's not a blessed thing wrong with him.

"You wouldn't consider fever, vomiting, tinnitus, and double vision serious symptoms?" Cheadle asks him.

Stainless steel on ceramic. Kurapika seems to be poking a fork at the dinner that Shimano set aside for him earlier. "Where in the world did you hear that? Whoever said that was grossly exaggerating. Yes, my head was aching somewhat, but I threw up a couple of times and felt better right away. My condition is entirely psychosomatic, I assure you. It's just a mild case of a body being too melodramatic for its own good."

"Then you don't want anyone from my medical team to check on you?"

"Hang on, you brought a team with you?" Footsteps, then the kitchen door swings open. Kurapika pokes his head out the doorway to see who's there, but aside from Melody and Prince Woble, there are only strangers idling about the living room. With furrowed brows, he withdraws and closes the kitchen door.

A muted scuffing as Kurapika returns to the kitchen table and pushes away his plate, which will most likely be barely touched, given his worrisome track record with food nowadays.

"You look disappointed," Cheadle comments.

Kurapika chooses to ignore this. "Anyway, Chairman, on to more important matters. . . ." He now launches into the specifics of what should happen when they all gather together to rush the king's quarters in a day's time. "The priority is ensuring that Queen Oito, who will be carrying Prince Woble in her arms, can safely reach the Seed Urn. Once that happens — once the 14th Prince's Nen beast successfully accomplishes its task — everything else is background noise. Whatever else occurs is merely extraneous. The camps of the 13th and the 14th Princes have already been specially assigned to escort Queen Oito and Prince Woble."

"Will that include you and Hisoka, then?"

"No, Hisoka and I will be taking care of 4th Prince Tserriednich. It's necessary that the two of us perform this task on our own. According to the intelligence that we received from 2nd Queen Duazul, the 4th Prince possesses a uniquely dangerous power, which may exceed even the 9th Prince's considerable capabilities, and which promises a swift death to anyone who dares to face him whilst unprepared. Hisoka and I have already strategized in depth about the best way to defeat the 4th Prince, and we're both prepared to die fighting him, if necessary. As for the rest of you — the Zodiacs, the Pro Hunters, the Provisional Hunters, and the alliance of princes and their camps — I can trust you all to dispatch everyone else stationed in the king's quarters. Unless otherwise stated, we can presume that every person there is hostile to our cause. Fortunately for us, the vast majority of the Kakin mafia has already been obliterated in the course of its private dealings with the Phantom Troupe, although a few key members of the Heil-Ly family — including Morena, Heil-Ly's boss — have survived to fight on behalf of their benefactor, the 4th Prince. With regard to King Nasubi, if he has survived despite the 4th Prince's invasion, we are under strict orders to leave him alone. The 9th Prince, backed by his loyal army of personal guards, wishes to face his father without outside interference."

"Understood," Cheadle replies.

"Chairman Yorkshire, I have to ask . . . did all the Zodiacs agree to participate in this mission? From what I can remember, a few of them tacitly expressed their reservations during the last meeting."

"You will have practically the full force of the Zodiacs behind your plan. Every member, with the obvious exception of Saiyu, will be present."

"Thank you, Chairman," Kurapika says. "It's an enormous weight off my chest, knowing that I have the support of the Zodiacs."

"It's no trouble at all. But in return, might I make a small request of you?"

"What is it?" Kurapika asks.

"Please don't interact with Leorio any more than is absolutely necessary. I'm well aware that the two of you share a complicated relationship. If Leorio becomes entangled in whatever secretive business that you and Hisoka obviously have with the 4th Prince, I fear that he may get distracted and accidentally hurt himself."

A pause, and Kurapika's heartbeat takes on the curiously cacophonous rhythm that only ever comes out whenever he talks to or about Leorio — a sound that only grows more pronounced with each day that passes. "Of course. I care deeply about Leorio, and I could never bear for him to be hurt. If the Chairman feels that this is the best way for me to protect him, then —"

"Kurapika, you may care about Leorio in your own way, but speaking as someone who has always had his best interests at heart, I can confidently say that your way is the worst way to care about him. Leorio may not have a medical history fraught with fractures, internal hemorrhages, and psychosomatic fevers, but he's still suffering silently. It hurts me to watch him hurt like this. If you — the person that Leorio calls his best friend in the world — can't love him and look out for him, then I have no choice but to take your place."

There's a heavy scraping as Kurapika shoves his chair backward. "Is this everything that you wanted to say to me? I've just remembered that there's something I need to do, so if there's nothing else. . . ."

"Yes, I think we're done here. I'll see you tomorrow, Kurapika."

A thunderous bang as Kurapika bursts out of the kitchen again. His black contacts are tinged dangerously scarlet as he accosts Melody. "Where the hell is Hisoka?" he demands.

"He still hasn't returned since the two of you went out together earlier this evening," Melody tells him quietly.

With his heartbeat tempestuous now, Kurapika spins around and stomps toward the exit. Alarmed, Melody hastily shifts the lullaby to a harmony aiming to stop Kurapika in his tracks, but before she can even get to the first note, he's already vanished beyond the doorway.

Cheadle just then comes out of the kitchen. "Is Kurapika always this dramatic when ending a conversation?" she asks Melody.

"Not always," Melody says. "You caught him at a bad time. He's been gravely ill these past two days."

Cheadle raises an eyebrow and parts her mouth, clearly about to say something else, when another bang causes both women to jump. It hasn't even been a minute and Kurapika is already back in the 14th Prince's quarters, with Hisoka in tow.

Hisoka is smiling ecstatically even as Kurapika drags him along by the collar of his shirt. "Did you hear what I said? Our beloved Danchou finally agreed to meet me! Tomorrow's the special day! Ah, I can't wait any longer! Two delectable dinners, one after the other. . . ."

Instead of responding, Kurapika throws open the door to the employees' bedroom. He rudely interrupts Bill's and Basho's lively conversation on safety measures for riding pillion on motorcycles to cast them both out of the bedroom. Considering that Kurapika's contacts are off all of a sudden — his eyes drilling so deeply red that he seems to dust the air around him crimson — Melody isn't surprised to see Bill and Basho shuffling out with nary a word of complaint.

Hisoka is still gushing nonstop about his upcoming sumptuous meals when Kurapika slams the door shut. Behind the door, inaudible to everybody except Melody now, there's a squeak of bedsprings, a rattle of chains, then a hissed expletive from Hisoka. As the all too familiar animalistic noises follow suit, Melody turns resolutely away from the bedroom to face the others standing around the living room.

"Basho, will you kindly escort Chairman Yorkshire and her medical team to the guard post?" Melody says. "I have to get back to this lullaby for Prince Woble."

Without awaiting Basho's reply, Melody commences playing a song of boundless serenity. She means for this music to foster peace not only over the prince's fitful dreams, but also over her own troubled thoughts.


"Do you want to break my wrists?" Hisoka asks his boyfriend. "Come on, I need them for combat."

Hisoka takes a ragged breath as the chain wrenches around his wrists even more tightly.

Kurapika's voice is all impatience. "Don't pretend to be so fragile. I know everything about your body. You can withstand much more than this, can't you? Consider this your training. If you can take me on, you can take on anything."

Kurapika doubles down on the force. The bed wobbles — once, twice — then jolts hard, finally cracking beneath them.

"Perhaps it's a sign?" Hisoka suggests.

"I'm just shocked that I only broke the bed now."

Without bothering to pull out, Kurapika relocates them to the next bed and carries on.

"The last time you fucked me this hard," Hisoka reminisces out loud, "I was limping for an entire day afterward."

"Must not be fucking you hard enough, if you're still refusing to shut up."

"Okay, okay. Can you just — just turn me around. Hard to breathe in this position."

Kurapika withdraws the Dowsing Chain to flip Hisoka over to his back. He examines the welts on Hisoka's wrists before wrapping the chain again, more loosely this time. "Better?"

"Much better."

As Kurapika begins thrusting again, Hisoka carefully watches his face. They've been going at it for over an hour, so why are Kurapika's eyes still the same color? Kurapika seems to be mellowing down now, stabilizing after his apparently infuriating interaction with the Chairman. The scarlet, however, doesn't waver. Not even once.


Staring at scarlet, the 4th Prince is enraptured by dreams close enough to swallow whole. Devotion. Domination. The heights of hedonistic splendor.

Indeed, the violet velvet of the king's throne becomes his matchless majesty. For such a superior life-form — royal by birth and divinely blessed by the Seed Urn, that historic heirloom — nothing less than an entire nation's ceaseless worship will ever suffice.

He's already won, hasn't he? Halkenburg is soft on him, and his younger half-siblings are but cockroaches that he can crush with the slightest stamp of a silk slipper.

As for the last peasant who ventured to defy him — that noisy woman who, emboldened by her temporary knowledge-based advantage over him, dared to aim a firearm at his head — he has finally gotten rid of her unpalatable presence.

"My dear, you are the only company I will ever need," the prince declares.

The face nestled between his bare thighs agrees with a fiery gleam of its eyes.