Author's Notes:
RELATIONSHIPS: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
RATING: Mature
Chapter 3: Diversion, or the games played by those who disappear
It's a fine summer's day. The sun is beaming. The clouds drifting by are puffy and white. Everywhere on the beach, a brine-scented breeze pervades.
Kurapika settles on one of the chairs scattered in intervals over the cerulean sand. In the shade of an umbrella, he opens a novel he brought with him. In no time at all, he's immersed in a wondrous world far removed from the present. He doesn't so much as glance up when a voice addresses him by name.
"Kurapika? Aren't you going to join us in the water?"
It's Leorio, standing beside him with his fists parked on his hips. In contrast to Kurapika's plain white button-down, Leorio is dressed in a floral-print shirt, fully unbuttoned to expose his muscular torso underneath.
Kurapika's gaze stays steady on his current page. "Wasn't planning on it. Books take up about half the space in my bag, and I'm committed to finishing them all before this trip is over. This particular novel is one of my favorites to reread."
"Seems like a waste to me. You can read anywhere, anytime. But it's not every day when you can frolic on the beach, you know?"
"To each their own. You don't tell me what to do with my books, and I won't attempt to control all the ways you'll frolic in this resort."
At this point, Kurapika raises his novel so that it conceals his face from Leorio. Implicitly, he's signaling the closure of their conversation. Leorio studies him for a moment longer in the hopes of spotting an opening, but none appears forthcoming.
Leorio drags a beach chair from some distance away so that it's close to Kurapika's. He strips down to his swimming trunks and deposits his clothes on the seat. Second-guessing himself, he spreads the fabric of his shirt over the expanse of the chair, then lays his towel on top of it.
There. That should make his dibs on this seat more obvious.
Satisfied, he sprints over the blue sand and plunges himself into the sea. The water is just the right temperature for a leisurely swim. He paddles toward the area where he can see Killua's and Gon's heads bobbing over the waves, though they're facing opposite directions.
With both his palms, Leorio swats the water at his younger friends by way of greeting. Of course, Killua turns toward him just in time to get splashed with a faceful of stinging, salty water.
Killua splutters as the saltwater enters his nostrils. After shaking his head like a wet dog for a few seconds, he snarls, "I'm gonna get you for that one, old man!"
Leorio tries to swim away, but Killua catches him in no time at all. Killua grabs him by the hair and dunks his head into the water.
"Truce! Truce!" Leorio hollers once he resurfaces. "I still have tons to do on this vacation! I can't die by water torture on the very first day!"
Killua cackles. "You call this torture? I should invite you over for dinner in my family's mansion. My folks really know how to welcome their guests. Poison for the appetizer, for the entrée, for dessert."
Leorio shudders at the mental image of a Zoldyck butler pouring him a goblet of cyanide for an aperitif. "No more roughhousing! For God's sake, let's just toss around a ball or something!"
A finger taps Leorio's shoulder from behind. He whirls around, expecting to see Gon. Instead, it's a tall, auburn-haired woman he's never met before.
With a fetching smile, she holds out a multicolored beach ball. "You guys want to borrow this?"
"Thanks," he says, taking the ball from her. "You sure you won't be needing this anytime soon?"
"Don't worry about it. My friends and I are just sunbathing over the waves, admiring the picturesque view." At this point, her eyes leave Leorio's face and wander downward.
Oh, when she's referring to the view, she means Leorio, doesn't she? He now looks around and notices that the redhead isn't the only head in the vicinity turned toward him. Multiple pairs of eyes are raking over his bulging biceps, his prominent pecs, his chiseled abdomen.
Finally, his rigorous exercise regimen is bearing fruit. In the weeks leading up to the trip, he pushed his body to new limits at the gym for a very particular purpose.
From behind gold-framed sunglasses, Leorio gazes toward the beach, where Kurapika is still lounging on a chair and flipping through the pages of a novel. Leorio stares intently in that direction. He waits for the book to lower from Kurapika's face and reveal eyes lit up in appreciation for his impeccably-toned physique.
However, this never happens.
Gon has rejoined their group now. Leorio decides that the three of them should position themselves at an equal distance from each other so that they can toss around the borrowed beach ball.
Leorio, of course, keeps getting beaned by the ball, chiefly due to the frequency of his glances toward the shore. If this continues, he's in danger of not only breaking his glasses but also giving himself a neck cramp.
When Gon announces his intention to hunt for a good vantage point for fishing, Leorio says he wants to get out of the water as well. Leorio returns the ball to the redhead then accompanies Gon back to shore. Killua has elected to stay behind so that he can swim toward a buoy in the distance.
Upon reaching the beach, Gon picks up his fishing rod and skips toward the jagged rocks on the resort's western side, while Leorio reclaims the chair next to Kurapika's.
As Leorio towel-dries his hair, he wonders how to commence another conversation. The last one was virtually dead on arrival.
For the first time today, Kurapika has taken off his circular sunglasses and has tucked them onto his collar. His eyes — brown like an ancient photograph and summoning that same mingled sense of mystery and nostalgia — are darting from side to side as he speed-reads. He's already blown past the hundredth-page mark.
Leorio clears his throat. "Hey."
Kurapika doesn't stop reading, but he hums to signify he's listening.
"Killua's bound to get thirsty after all that swimming. Gon too, once he climbs down from those rocks and showcases his catch for the day. Why don't we go get drinks for everyone?"
"I can do that," Kurapika replies. "Just let me finish this chapter first."
Leorio nods then stretches over his chair. Since the shade of the umbrella doesn't reach where he lies, he stares at the cumulus clouds coasting above them. The azure sky is strewn with squawking seagulls.
"Go back and enjoy the waves," Kurapika says after a minute. "You don't have to come along."
Leorio sits up. "I want to."
At long last, Kurapika raises his eyes from the book to Leorio's face.
Even though Leorio has been waiting for this to happen — has been doing everything in his power to trigger it, in fact — he isn't prepared for the intensity of its impact on him. There's a strangling sort of feeling in his chest, as if a seagull is trapped inside and is flapping wildly around in a desperate bid for freedom.
Leorio enunciates his next words as if he's in a dream, as if he's floating alongside the clouds overhead. "It was my idea so I have to assist you, right? It would be an asshole move if I didn't."
Kurapika's response is soft. "If this helps you feel better in some small way, then I don't have any reason to refuse."
Leorio is still struggling to manage the flip-flopping of his heart within his rib cage when Killua appears out of nowhere. With his wet silver hair pointing in dozens of different directions, Killua snatches Kurapika by the arm and yanks him upward. The novel tumbles from Kurapika's hands to his chair.
Killua's voice is petulant. "I'm more parched than the inhabitants of hell themselves! I've been craving something refreshing to drink since, like, yesterday. Come on."
Kurapika attempts to retrieve his fallen book, but Killua is already hauling him off.
Just like that, Killua has once again stolen Kurapika away before Leorio can utter a word of complaint. Leorio has always been the worst runner among his friends. Though his strength is nothing to scoff at, he lags behind them in terms of both speed and endurance. He certainly has no chance of ever catching up to Killua once he, of all damn people, has decided to go somewhere — anywhere — in the world.
Sighing, Leorio picks up Kurapika's novel and opens it to a random page. He strokes the sheets of paper with something like reverence. Just seconds before, Kurapika's fingers were all over these pages. His enigmatic brown eyes were caressing every angle and curl and line of this printed font. This book has been on his shelf and in his bag. It might've been slipped beneath his pillow once or twice before he slept at night. He did mention it was one of his favorites.
Leorio is dwelling deep in thoughts like these when a familiar voice calls him back to earth.
Gon has returned. He's flanked on either side with a woman significantly taller than he is. "I met these two as I was climbing down from my fishing spot! They've invited us both to join their friends for a bonfire. I said we should spit-roast the fish I caught. We can all have dinner while admiring the sunset."
Behind the three beaming faces, the sky is indeed lit up in shades of marigold and coral and lavender. It's that time already? Just how long has Leorio been lost in his head?
One of the women with Gon is the redhead who lent them the beach ball. She flutters her eyelashes at Leorio. "We've got a cooler of beer. You guys can't say no to that, can you?"
"Hey, if alcohol is involved, I can never say no." Leorio gets up and looks around for his shirt. In his distracted state, he didn't even notice it had fluttered down. As he's brushing off blue sand from the fabric, he glances at Gon. "What about Kurapika and Killua? They were supposed to pick up some drinks. Have you seen them since?"
Gon shakes his head. "I have no idea where they are right now or if they're even planning to return. I've tried calling Kurapika, but he's not picking up. In any case, they can join our party when they get back, right?"
"How many times did you call?" Leorio asks him.
"Maybe four times."
There's a sinking feeling in Leorio's stomach as unnecessarily explicit imagery of what could be keeping the two of them busy — busy enough to neglect calls from their most universally beloved friend — begins to bounce around his skull.
Leorio forces a grin despite his unshakable sense of unease. "Being on the beach is all about seizing the moment and forgetting tomorrow's troubles. So let's do this! Let's party!"
On their way back from the vending machines, Killua calls Kurapika's attention to the mouth of what appears to be a cave.
Killua's tone is challenging. "So what do you say? Shall we go exploring? You think we'll find any creepy Spiders crawling inside there? You've already caught most of them. It's high time you collect them all."
Kurapika, who's clasping a bottle of green tea in each hand, glares at him. "You're not funny."
"But how can you know for sure until you check? How dare you shirk your duties as the association's most decorated Blacklist Hunter!"
Before Kurapika can stop him, Killua races right into the cave. He's howling like a wolf as he goes. Kurapika has no choice but to chase after him.
Just a few yards past the opening of the cave, the darkness inside becomes almost absolute. However, the farther in Kurapika wanders, the more he notices a faint bluish glow in the air. It brightens by increments with every step he takes.
Are Killua's Nen abilities the source of this strange illumination? Is he generating sparks of electricity from his fingertips or doing something of the sort?
When Kurapika turns a corner, he sees that he's arrived at a small lake within the cave. The lake is glimmering a preternaturally neon blue, owing to some unknown property in the water. Is this peculiar color caused by the same sort of chemical composition that makes the sand at the beach cerulean?
Kurapika stares, entranced, until an earsplitting scream from right behind him causes him to spin around in sheer panic.
"Scared you!" Killua cries out. "You should see your —"
Just then, however, Kurapika slips on the wet limestone on the lake's edge and pitches backward. His right hand — already poised to dispatch the appropriate chain for whatever threat might materialize — springs forward instinctively to grasp at whatever can help him maintain his balance. He winds up gripping Killua's shoulder and dragging him down along with him.
They both fall into the lake. Fortunately, it's little more than a shallow pool at its edge. Kurapika, who gets a mouthful of the mysterious blue water upon impact, sprays it out as Killua topples painfully over his body. They wrestle in the water for a moment — with Killua attempting to pull Kurapika back to safety and with Kurapika doing his best to push Killua's weight away from his body. Though he's grown to be only a few inches taller than Kurapika, Killua's body is so packed with lean muscle that Kurapika feels as if he's shoving a boulder up a hill.
When they finally succeed in rolling back to dry land, Killua busts out laughing right away. Kurapika tries to glower as he's wringing water from his clothes, but it's impossible to act angry when Killua is laughing his head off like a hyena. Kurapika can't help cracking a rueful smile at the sight.
But this smile fades the moment Kurapika extracts his damp phone from his pocket. "Shit. My phone's a goner. How did yours fare?"
Killua checks his own phone. "It's not turning on either. Now we can't communicate with anybody. Poor Alluka. Her hair's going to turn as white as mine with worry once she notices that her favorite brother has suddenly stopped taking her calls or replying to her messages. Look, I'm not going to fault you for having a clumsy moment here and there — it happens to the best of us — but why'd you have to drag me down with you? You're so clingy."
"You startled me! You only have yourself to blame for sinking us into this communication dead zone!"
They continue sniping at each other — with neither of them placing any real weight behind their insults — all the way back to their hotel room. Killua only needs to change his shorts, but Kurapika, who was drenched down to his underwear in the neon blue water, decides to take a shower.
When Kurapika steps out of the bathroom, he's dressed in a fresh button-down and cream trousers. Rubbing his blond hair with a towel, he observes as Killua fiddles with a fancy camera he's just taken out of his bag.
"What did you do to our phones?" Kurapika asks.
"I left them out on the balcony to dry. That might help them regain some functionality. Unless the weather chooses to be a bitch and curse us with a downpour, of course."
"They'll probably be fine. The sky hasn't shown even a hint of rain today. Listen, we should head down to the beach. The other two will be wondering where we are."
"I doubt that," Killua says snidely. "In all likelihood, they're thanking their lucky stars that we've fucked off to God knows where. How much do you want to bet they're celebrating our absence at this very moment?"