Disclaimers:
Standard disclaimers apply. Hunter X Hunter is a manga
made by the great Yoshihiro Togashi, my eternal mentor. No money is
made in the creation of this fanfic.
Notes: Now I lack updates. I don't know how my schedule goes, but hell,
it's annoying, isn't it? Sorry for the late update. I partially fulfilled my
promise to the SD fans and worked on their share of my fanfics, but now I seem
to have neglected this one this time *apologetic bow* I promise to work on this
one again.
Chapter 6 - Walls of the Past
The dim light of the small blue diamond earring sparkled in the darkness of dawn. The ethereal glow matched the grace that the thin curtains danced from right in front of him. The windows were open, accommodating enough sunlight to dimly light up the majestic room. He had opened them last night, when he found that the evening air in the height from which the mansion was placed was unbelievably soothing, and that the blankets were thick enough to keep him warm when it gets too cold anyway.
A small sigh escaped him, arms and legs limp. He sat cross-legged in his bed after he woke up, not finding it in himself to walk out the door to check on everybody else. He knew it was still too early, judging from the small rays of the sun that peeked inside his room. Maybe the others were still asleep, and he did not want to bother them.
That was when he found himself unconsciously reaching out to hold the small earring between two fingers, toying with it, as if trying to memorize its shape. A few moments passed and he realized that he had pulled it off his ear, as it now lay unmoving in his palms.
He felt the sharp sting of upcoming tears just looking at it. Memories of his past, all his barriers, all the walls that he had put around himself that kept him from falling all crumbled to the ground, leaving him defenseless. For once, behind the curtains of the four-poster bed, he entrusted his whole being, his dignity.
He let the tears fall.
For his family. His friends. Everybody.
He did not trust anybody to understand his pain. Not everybody knew how close his clan was, how tight their bond. Nobody knew about their fears, their tragedies, nor did anybody know about how much they had suffered from those who sought them out. Nobody can understand, because everybody did not give them a second glance, only seeing them as priceless jewels who held eyes that were gold placed in glass jars.
He opened his eyes despite how much he tried to hide the tears. He glanced back at the small diamond earring, finding his own small reflection in the metal clasp that held it. The metal itself glowed the intense fire of crimson, mirroring his own eyes. For minutes, he found himself engaged in a staring game, him against himself that was engraved in the smooth surface of the metal clasp.
Those eyes. Those scarlet eyes that glowed what supposed to be one of the most beautiful colors in the world. They were the reason why he had lost everything.
Bursting into a silent rage, he shut his eyes closed again, refusing to look at them in their scarlet state. He closed his hand into a fist, not caring if the sharpness of the small gem pierced through his skin like a knife. To him, the pain was actually soothing, making him forget the other pain that tried to suffocate him inside his chest; the pain that trapped his heart.
He found himself falling back on the bed, with the chains attached in his other hand jingling against each other. Tears were flowing uncontrollably now, the sound of the chains just intensifying his rage.
Why was he crying, one might ask? Because it was painful. Because he was angry. Because he was hurting, and he felt as if he was alone. No. He knew, in his heart, he was alone. Despite everything, despite his friends' kindness, they did not know who he was.
Why was he alive to begin with? Was this a way for the gods to mock him? Why did those bastards who killed everybody leave him out? Why didn't he just die with everyone else? Maybe if he did, he'll still be with them in a much more better place than the world that considered them not as humans but as priceless jewels.
Another tear. And another. He lost count.
"Why?"
* * * * *
Leorio found himself outside the doors of what was supposed to be Kurapika's room. Why he was there at such an ungodly early hour, he did not know. All he knew was that he wasn't able to sleep last night. He supposed the mention of the younger boy's name would be unnecessary, he knew fully well who occupied his mind ever since they decided to leave for Killua's house anyway.
He sighed. He knew he shouldn't be doing this. It was too early, and the sun had barely risen. He knew Kurapika did not want to be disturbed, more than anything else. But he also knew that he had to reassure himself of something, something he still could not quite grab what. He thought that maybe if he could just see him, even just for a second, the feeling would subside and he'll be given enough peace to help him sleep.
"Just a small peek, and I'll leave," he said, to try and explain himself to no one in particular.
Thus being settled, he took a deep breath and held the knob. Part of him knew this was a grave sin, to disturb Kurapika at so early in the morning, and he almost wished that Kurapika had remembered to lock the door.
But the boy did not, and Leorio knew he can't go back now that he took the first step. Bracing himself, he pushed open the almost heavy door, eyes darting quickly to scan for the bed. Finding what he was looking for, and seeing the small silhouette of Kurapika's frame dancing in the shadows, he knew he had seen enough and that he must go back. But just before he could turn back, a small sound betrayed the silence.
He stopped.
It was a sob.
Confused and disbelieving what he had just heard, he turned back to check the room again. It took him quite a few moments to notice the small movements that the shadow emitted behind the thin curtains of the bed.
Is he awake? he asked himself, taking an uneasy step inside. More importantly, is he all right?
Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Kurapika would not appreciate him meddling into his businesses. Because surely, the young boy didn't want anybody to know his problems, least of all to try and seek someone else's help. He was always like that.
But it was too late to think of that now. He was now standing a few inches away from the bed, close enough for him to make out Kurapika's form. The young man had his back to him, and his shoulders shook violently. He was crying, that he was sure of now. Though why Kurapika, of all people, was doing so remained to him a mystery.
Reaching out to take a hold of the curtain to part it, he could only pray that Kurapika would let him in. Even just this once.
* * * * *
Tearful eyes opened slowly, the sobs subsiding for now. He felt small movements behind him, and as reflex, he turned back to see who it was.
His eyes widened.
"L-Leorio?"
The older man nodded once, eyes cast down, as if he couldn't find it in himself to look at him.
His momentary shock was now replaced by rage. Thin eyebrows furrowed into a glare, his eyes shining through the darkness of the room. His right hand came up to wipe the tears away, now pulling himself up to catch the other's eyes. "What are you doing here!?" he asked, sitting up to push Leorio away from his bed. He had not meant to be so forceful when he did it, but the anger and frustration from a while ago, with the discomfort and shame he now felt for being seen the way he was, all added up to make him feel so violent.
Leorio found himself off balanced for a while. After finding his footing though, he was thrown off again by an enraged Kurapika, his eyes reflecting anger. But what caught him the most was those eyes of fiery red were now tearing up yet again, and even amidst the painful words that Kurapika was giving him, the young boy was crying.
Not knowing what else to do, he held up both hands to catch Kurapika's to at least stop his outburst. He was definitely stronger than the other when it comes to physical strength, and he was easily able to hold Kurapika still. The young man struggled for him to let go, hissing under his breath, yet was forced back to sit on the bed by the strong arms that held him.
"Kurapika, calm down!" shouted Leorio, breaking through the other boy's voice of protests. The older man's hand came up to the other's shoulders, trying to shake him awake.
The youth's words died down in his lips, and the hands that tried to hit the doctor earlier fell limp on the other's wrists. His head fell down, shoulder shaking uncontrollably from the new tears. Much as he tried to stop, much as he tried to put up the exterior he was supposed to have, he could not stop the tears. No matter how much he cursed them away, they still came back to the river that now flowed down his cheeks.
Brown eyes softened as they gazed down at his friend. One hand came up to cup the other's cheek, vainly wiping away the tears that stained their warmth. "What's wrong?" he asked, bending down to catch the boy's eyes. But he refused to look back, eyes tightly shut, tears after new tears coming down.
"It hurts," was all the young one said, his head shaking as if he refused to say anything more.
What was wrong with him? Kurapika was never like this. Despite how young he was, he was the most mature among all four of them. In fact, he was more mature than any other person he knew. To see the young one cry like this was most probably the last thing Leorio would ever imagine. But it was happening despite his attempts to deny what he was seeing. Kurapika, the one so strong, the one who's seen almost always quiet and detached, was breaking down.
"What's wrong? What hurts?" he asked, almost desperately.
Not finding the answers to his questions, nor the things he tried to seek out, Leorio came up to pull Kurapika to him despite how much his mind debated against it. Least to say, he wouldn't be surprised if Kurapika would struggle away and throw him out of his room.
But none of those came about. Instead, the young boy's sobs increased, and the violence from which he shook under his arms was gravely disturbing the doctor. He felt his own hands shaking. He was afraid. The strongest person he had ever come to know was now in his arms, crying like a small child, holding unto him as if he'd get lost if he let go.
Knowing that he won't get any response from the other boy, he decided to just stay and keep quiet. He was afraid to break the moment, afraid that if Kurapika would wake up to be himself again, he'll reject him. Like he always does.
Laying his head on the other boy's own, he closed his eyes, pushing away the sounds of the other's sobs. He sought him for comfort, like he wont to do when things get too complicated, and pretended as if he did not hear anything. The pain of his concern for the young Kuruta was obviously too much, already to a fault. He had nothing else to do but to hold him, whispering words of comfort he doubted would even reach the other's ears.
Minutes passed and the sobs died down. Leorio felt Kurapika grow limp, the signs of steady breathing evident. He was asleep.
Leorio watched in silence as the boy slept, head resting on his chest. A hand unconsciously came up to wipe away the tears that blemished the boy's cheeks, then moved to fix the hair that clung to face. His working hand then came down to fix the collar of Kurapika's night clothes, putting back the button that somehow came undone and dusted off the creases of his sleeves. But while doing so, his eyes ran across a stain that gravely caught his attention.
Blood.
Looking around, there already was enough sunlight to aid his sight. True enough, the red stains that were scattered across the bed, and both his and Kurapika's clothes, were blood. Confused as to where they could have come from, he looked down at the young boy, his eyes scanning his sleeping form, stopping momentarily at the closed fist of his left hand.
His free hand came down to hold the other's fist, opening them gently. He frowned. Deep cuts wounded the delicate flesh, blood still flowing from some of them. And amidst all these, a small, and very familiar gem met his gaze. The blood clothed it enough to make it almost red itself, making it lose its sparkle. Leorio picked it up between two fingers, staring at it before placing the cursed object inside his pocket. Using his sleeves, thankful now that they were longer than needed, he clothed Kurapika's bleeding hand in his own.
Slipping out of the curtained bed, he stood up, the small frame of the young boy cradled in his arms. The bed was too stained for Kurapika to sleep in, and he decided to just give him his room. His insomnia just became worse anyway, and he did not feel like sleeping.
Stopping first to take a new set of clothes for Kurapika to wear when he wakes up--knowing that the other won't appreciate him doing it himself--he opened the door carefully lest he drop his precious load. He slipped outside, making his way towards his own room, reminding himself to call in any awake servant to clean up Kurapika's.
Outside the curtained windows, the sun has already risen. The sky was clear of any clouds, and the birds have started to sing their daily songs. But all remained ignored as the worried doctor watched over his best friend, rolling the bandage between the younger one's delicate fingers.
Silently, oblivious to everything else, the young Kuruta slept. Peace reigned his dreams, from a touch alien yet comforting, his slumber unmarred by nightmares for the first time in years.
End of Chapter 6
A/N:
Whew! Took longer than I thought! About Kurapika-sama's earring, I don't know if
it has any significance at all, but oh well, this is a fanfic anyway, ne? ^_^
- Cherrie (http://www.geocities.com/kurapikasama)