Rise From The Ashes:
Chapter IV:
In Which Kurapika Is Dead To The World
October 30th, XX21 : Age 20 : Under the huge oak tree in the courtyard
"C'mon, Kurapika. It's not that bad," Pairo reassured for the umpteenth time, rubbing the blond's back as a sign of comfort. Kurapika was currently curled up by Pairo's side, face blank and his arms wrapped around the other man.
The blond grunted noncommittally. "Easy for you to say."
"So, you got a B on the last test. It's because you were tired. You almost fell asleep in Econ that day. Your grade isn't as perfect as usual because you're pushing yourself too far . . . are you okay?"
Kurapika had let himself fall to the ground, coiled up into a fetal position on the grassy carpet. "Just let me die here."
The blond could practically hear Pairo's eyes rolling in their sockets. He clearly didn't see what this meant to him.
A hand reached out for his shoulder, and Kurapika made no move to slap it away.
"Kura," he called, softly, beckoning him to jump out of his stupor. "I know academics are important to you, but you can't be so afraid of faltering every now and then. Failure is healthy in moderation."
Kurapika didn't respond. Mostly because deep down he knew Pairo was right.
The other man's phone rang.
Pairo sighed, before placing a kiss on his boyfriend's cheek. "I'll see you soon, Kura. How about I bring you some of those chocolates you like so much. That'll cheer you up."
"I suppose," Kurapika muttered, getting up and wrapping his arms around the brunet. "You should probably go. I wouldn't want you to be late because of me."
Pairo chuckled, running a hand through his honey-colored hair, "trying to get rid of me already? Alright, take a nap or something. You look terrible."
And with that, the man got up and walked away.
Once Kurapika was sure there was no way Pairo could still be able to see him, he turned to glare at the tree, or rather, at the person behind it.
"You can come out now. He's gone."
The man sat down beside him. "Is there a reason you're so afraid of failing to reach perfection?"
Kurapika played with the blades of grass beside him. "Not really. I'm just . . . used to being perfect."
"How boring," Chrollo commented. "What's life without the lows. It's a simple, straight line. You really need to loosen up."
Kurapika grimaced, sending him one irritated glare.
"Or not. Well, since you'll be dying within the confines of the next two to three months, I suppose the least I can do is let you live your life the way you wish to live it," Chrollo said, resigned to Kurapika's fate.
"For the last time, I'm not going to die unless it means taking them with me!" Kurapika said, exasperated.
Chrollo gave him a strange look. Was it pity? "You're really so willing to throw your life away to get your revenge?"
"It's justice," Kurapika murmured, pushing his knees up to his chest and placing his chin on them.
"You have an odd perception of justice," Chrollo replied. "Let me warn you, though. Killing someone is a far cry from considering it."
"I thought you didn't kill people," Kurapika snapped. So, he was in the presence of a murderer and a thief? Bloody hell, why hadn't he called the police yet? Or had someone else call them? It wasn't like Chrollo was continuously looking over his shoulder. As an aspiring detective, catching a criminal mastermind like him was the right thing to do. And yet, he couldn't seem to do it.
Eh, it was probably because he needed Chrollo's help catching a bigger fish.
Chrollo took a while to answer him, as if weighing his words. "Well, not anymore. But, there were times when I couldn't seem to see any other option. I grew up in a slum, you see. Killing was part of the daily routine. It really made human lives look insignificant."
"And you stopped because . . ." It couldn't be a sudden revelation that lives were actually worth something.
Chrollo shrugged. "It became too much of a bother. Pulling off an elaborate heist without anyone knowing is more satisfying."
"Oh. Should we really be talking about this in a public place?"
"Worried about me, Kurta?"
Kurapika scoffed, "not in the slightest, but withholding information is a punishable offense. You know that family you robbed is still looking for you guys. I don't want to be caught up in your web of crime."
"How cruel," Chrollo teased. "Here I thought we were starting to bond over our tragic pasts."
Kurapika turned away from him haughtily. "It's gonna take more than that to gain my sympathy."
"We shall see."
. . .
October 30th, XX21 : Age 20 : Restaurant of Killua's Choice
"Man, the food here is pricy!" Leorio complained, putting down the menu. "Couldn't we just go to McDonald's or something?"
"If you want to stuff your face with empty calories and heart problems, be my guest," Kurapika sighed. All of Leorio's complaining had already set of a stabbing pain in his brain.
Leorio nearly set off a string of expletives, but then he looked around them, eyes darting around the store. Kurapika smirked. There were kids here. If he let even the slightest hint of a curse word leave his lips, he'd have both Pairo and Kurapika on his back.
"Alright, fine," Leorio grumbled, burying his face in the menu, probably scanning to see what the cheapest food they served was.
Pairo sighed, "you're so mean when you're around him. Where's the man I fell in love with when Leorio is here?"
"On break." And it was called tough love. Sure, Leorio drove him mad and made him want to hit his stupid face over and over again, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be the first one to beat up whoever tried to get him down. Beat them verbally, of course. Kurapika was a pacifist for the most part. He had decided a long time ago that his karate lessons would only come into play when he met his family's murderer.
"Gon~!" a sly, lilting voice exclaimed, a bit too excitedly. The tone sent shivers down all their backs. They turned to see a man with bright, red hair standing above them. He wore casual clothes and, save for the odd-colored eyes and tattoos on his cheeks, he looked completely ordinary. "What luck! I was just looking for you."
The man sat down next to Gon, their shoulders touching and faces far too close together. Kurapika felt the urge to shove him away from the boy, but Killua beat him to it.
"What are you doing here, Hisoka?" Killua asked, voice on edge. He pulled Gon towards him, looking much like a bodyguard.
The man smiled, "I just wanted to have a chat with your blond friend."
It was Pairo's turn to glare, but Kurapika felt that this might be worth listening to.
"Talk about what?" he asked. "I have no time for idle chat."
"What a shame," Hisoka purred, leaning his chin on his hand. "I happen to love idle chat. You look absolutely radiant tonight, by the way. The lighting suits you."
Kurapika stared at him, unimpressed. Pairo looked like he was stuck between agreeing with him and pummeling his face into the ground. Leorio was still wondering what food to buy.
The red-haired clown of a man sighed, despondent, "why is it that all the good ones are taken? And all the good ones who aren't taken are always running away?"
"What was it you wanted to talk about?" Kurapika asked, impatiently.
Hisoka smirked. "Not here. Join me outside?"
With that, the man slid out of his seat on the leather couch and headed for the door. Kurapika got up to follow him, only to have a hand wrap around his slim wrist.
"Are you sure about this?" Pairo asked, concerned. "It's Hisoka."
Kurapika slipped his wrist of his grip and intertwined their fingers. He gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine."
"I hope so," he whispered, but finally let him go, albeit reluctantly.
The blond smiled one last time. "Make sure Leorio doesn't eat my food."
"Will do."
He walked out into the cold, shivering slightly as an autumn breeze collided with him. Why couldn't he be like Pairo, and be immune to the elements? No, his body for some reason decided he was either going to be really hot or really cold. No comfort for Kurapika.
"Alright, Hisoka," he said as he spotted the man at one of the wooden benches a little ways away from the restaurant. "What do you want?"
"Oh, I didn't drag you out here to talk about me. We're here to talk about you ~!" he said, cheerfully, clapping his hands. "Or rather, your new best friend, Lucilfer."
"I don't know any Lucifer, and I'm certainly not into that sort of thing."
"Not, Lucifer," Hisoka waved the notion away with one hand. Kurapika noticed his nails were painted a rather garish shade of glittery pink. "Lucilfer. Chrollo Lucilfer. Y'know, the man who seemingly can't help but follow you around everywhere, even though he keeps running away from the person who truly loves him."
" You're in love with Chrollo?" Kurapika asked, incredulously.
Hisoka pouted, "he never lets me call him by his first name! Tell me, what's your secret?"
"Secret?"
"It's probably because you're always pushing him away. Didn't think he'd fall for the type that's always in denial."
"Denial?!"
"Hmm, this may actually turn out to be quite fun," Hisoka said, mostly to himself.
"Fun?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head," Hisoka cooed, petting his golden crown lovingly. "I'm just talking to myself."
Kurapika rolled his eyes and slapped his hand away. "If that's all, I'll be heading-"
"Oh, but that's not all," Hisoka interrupted. "Tell me, did you know the people who killed your family were also a part of Chrollo's team?"
"Yes, and that he threw them out."
"Is that what he told you?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Well, I suppose it wasn't a complete lie, but did you ask him when he threw them out?" Hisoka asked.
No. He hadn't. Why hadn't he? The fact that he had come ever so slightly closer to his family's murderers had completely overshadowed the importance of Chrollo's status as their ex-leader.
"It was a mere three months after they burned your home to the ground," Hisoka revealed, probably relishing in whatever expression had made its home on his face. "Chrollo was still their leader when they killed your family."
. . .
November 1st, XX21 : Age 20 : On a random street
He really had waited too long. Perhaps, because he was worried Hisoka was telling the truth for once. Or, maybe, because Hisoka lied so often he had initially believed it to automatically be a lie. Whatever the case, he had waited too long to ask him to either verify or disprove Hisoka's words.
"Chrollo," he started, hating how wary his voice sounded, "when exactly did you kick the twins off the team?"
Chrollo, who was currently walking beside him and looked perfect as usual, sighed, "I was wondering when you'd finally come around and ask that. To be honest, I expected you to take a little longer. You keep surprising me."
"Answer the question."
"Hisoka was telling the truth."
Kurapika suddenly turned on him, eyes ablaze, not caring that they were in public. "You bas-"
"They went off on their own," Chrollo cut him off. "I had no part in them killing your family. I had stolen an heirloom of sorts from you a few weeks before. It set the twins off. In a way, I suppose I did inadvertently cause that fire."
Was that guilt he detected?
Kurapika's anger was doused. "So, you didn't plan the whole thing out?"
"No, of course not," Chrollo answered, surprise tinting his voice.
There goes the worst case scenario. This was rather mild compared to what Kurapika expected. Just another case of bad circumstances and psychopaths. On another note, something could possibly have been saved from the fire.
"So, that heirloom you took . . ." Kurapika started. He didn't need to finish.
"I sold it. No idea where it could be," Chrollo responded, almost immediately. Upon seeing Kurapika's slightly disappointed face, he seemed to reconsider. "But . . . I suppose I could dig into it if you want."
"Really?"
"But I don't offer my services for free," he sang.
Kurapika frowned, annoyed. "What do you want in return?"
Chrollo shrugged. "Dunno yet. I'll cash in the favor later."
Kurapika's hands clenched into fists and then loosened back to fall limp at his sides. He couldn't punch him in front of all these people on the streets.
"Fine," he grumbled.
"By the way, we're being followed," Chrollo informed, casually.
Kurapika almost looked over his shoulder, but Chrollo subtly beckoned him to keep his eyes on the road.
"Is it them?" he asked, quietly.
"Don't whisper. It looks suspicious," Chrollo advised. "They're taking their time because you don't know they're there yet. If you suddenly revealed that you did then they'd instantly spring into action."
"So, they're just going to follow me the entire time?"
"Presumably, until they catch you alone."
"And then?"
"They'll kill you."
Of course. Things were moving faster than he'd expected. He wondered how long he had before they struck.
. end of chapter .