Author's Notes:
PAIRINGS: Leorio/Kurapika (Leopika); Hisoka/Kurapika (Hisopika); Hisoka/Illumi (HisoIllu); Hisoka/Illumi/Pariston/Kurapika
RATING: Mature
NOTE: To read this story's missing scenes with sexual content, check the uncensored version on Archive of Our Own (AO3 username: lemonpika).
CONTENT WARNINGS: None.
Chapter 13: Ignition and initiation
The new school year has started. Over the first week, Leorio fields numerous invites from Pietro, Palm, Knuckle, and Shoot for drinks and distractions at Mobius Bar in the evenings. He declines each one.
Fortunately, he befriended a bunch of fellow pre-med students during orientation week. He eats lunch with this group and shares nearly every class in his schedule with one or two among them.
Whenever classes are done for the day, he heads straight to the library to hit the books, usually accompanied by a few of the other pre-med students. He enlists their help when something in his readings confuses him, which is often. He's careful, though, not to ask too many questions lest they realize just how much he's struggling to measure up to Zaban University's stringent academic standards.
He only ever abandons his textbooks when he spots Kurapika in the library. Leorio can't help but puff out his chest whenever he goes over to say hello — his easy familiarity with the elusive top scorer of the entrance exam never fails to amaze his new acquaintances.
Kurapika sometimes walks in with a small, skinny freshman with black hair and eyes and a meek countenance. More often, though, Kurapika enters alone. On these occasions, Leorio tries bringing up the night of the party at Dolle Residence Hall.
But every time he broaches this topic, Kurapika shuts down the conversation with a dismissive wave of his right hand. Checkered red band-aids are haphazardly affixed to his knuckles.
What happened there? Leorio wishes he could ask, but he doesn't.
Is there a point to questioning Kurapika about anything when he never sticks around long enough to exchange more than a sentence or two with Leorio? When he always departs from and returns to their dorm room at ungodly hours when Leorio is fast asleep?
On Wednesday, Leorio arrives early at the lecture hall reserved for Introduction to Yorbian Literature. This core subject is the only slot in his schedule that he shares with none of his pre-med acquaintances.
He watches intently as students file in and gradually fill up the lecture hall. He's desperately hoping to see at least one familiar face in the throng.
Pietro has playfully referred to Leorio as clingy in the past. Leorio never bothers to deny this designation. It's true that Leorio hates feeling left out and lonely, but so does Pietro.
At one minute to nine A.M., Leorio sees Kurapika walk in alone and claim a chair on the back row. Leorio beams and waves at him from his middle-row seat, but Kurapika doesn't appear to notice these attempts to snare his attention.
Leorio stands up, intending to switch to the seat beside Kurapika's, but the professor arrives just then and orders everybody to settle down.
Leorio sinks back onto his chair with a groan.
He does his best to focus on the lesson and take notes, but as the three-hour class drones on, his attention inevitably begins to wander. He silently implores the hour hand on the clock to crawl faster toward twelve.
He should take this shared class as an opportunity to invite Kurapika to have lunch with him. He can introduce Kurapika to the rest of his group. There's no way those guys can say no to the prospect of sitting with the hottest campus celebrity in the cafeteria where everybody can witness them.
As soon as Professor Satotz dismisses the class, Leorio whirls around to wave again at the back row.
But Kurapika is nowhere to be found.
On Thursday, as Leorio is hurrying toward his last class for the day, he bumps into Pietro in the hallway.
"You've been avoiding me, haven't you?" Pietro accuses. "The Milsy gang said they saw you at dinner last night. Why wasn't I part of that equation? This is no way to treat your best bud!"
Leorio extracts himself from Pietro's customary noogie. "Hey, it's not my fault you don't reside in Milsy Hall like the rest of us. Besides, I've been busy. You know I gotta burn the midnight oil if I wanna continue attending the same uni as you. With brains like mine, I've got no other choice."
"But you need to take breaks too! You don't want your skull to implode from information overload, do you?"
"Yeah, yeah. I promise to hang out with y'all over the weekend. Happy?"
"I'll hold you to that." As Pietro combs back his wavy brown locks with his fingers, a thoughtful expression crosses his face. "It's Thursday today, isn't it? The first Thursday of the academic year?"
"Yeah. So?"
"So it's that time of the year again for the dormitories." Pietro's brilliant blue eyes are twinkling. "Listen, when you go to bed tonight, keep on all your clothes. Or at least wear your good underwear."
"What makes you think I don't wear my best underwear to bed?"
"I'm just saying. Lay off the pink boxers or anything printed with polka dots or hearts or fruits, just for one night. Trust me."
Past midnight, Leorio wakes to the beam of a flashlight on his face. A scrawny guy in a ski mask is standing over his bed and commanding him to get up.
Blinking blearily, Leorio sits up. His first thought is thank God he heeded Pietro's advice and changed into plain black boxers before he slept.
On the opposite bed, Kurapika is cowering against the wall as a stocky dude in a second ski mask yanks at his blanket and yells at him to cooperate.
This sight jerks Leorio out of his lethargy as effectively a bucket of icy water to the face. He swings his long legs over the edge of his mattress at once. "Hey! Leave Kurapika alone!"
The scrawny guy sighs. "Look, as long as you obey us, things won't get ugly. We upperclassmen won't have to drag you anywhere. So just get up, you two. We're heading to the rec room."
Leorio jumps to his feet. He glares at the stocky dude to make sure he doesn't attempt to lay hands on Kurapika again. Thankfully, he doesn't.
Leorio and Kurapika follow the two upperclassmen out the room and toward the corridor, illuminated by nothing but flashlight beams. There, they encounter their fellow freshmen being herded by Milsy Hall's older residents, all donning ski masks.
The other first-years look just as drowsy and disoriented as Leorio felt a minute ago. But even though some of the freshmen are wearing only their briefs or their bras and panties, none of them appear half as disturbed as Kurapika, who's barely showing any skin.
The night's unexpected development has Kurapika pressing his palm firmly against his mouth and nose. His shoulders are shaking with the sped-up rhythm of panic-induced hyperventilation.
Craning his neck, Leorio tries to find Palm, Knuckle, or Shoot through the hubbub of ski masks and half-naked bodies in the corridors. He might be able to persuade those three to go easy on Kurapika and him.
But Leorio's friends at Milsy are nowhere to be found.
In an attempt to ground Kurapika, Leorio quietly informs him that this must be part of the initiation rites for new residents. "When I spoke to my buddy Pietro earlier, he implied this was a yearly thing all the university dorms do."
Through shallow breaths, Kurapika manages to enunciate his words. "What — what are they planning to do to us?"
"Try to humiliate us, I'm guessing."
"Humiliate us?"
"You know. Strip us naked, maybe. Make us get down on our hands and knees and bark like dogs. That sorta demeaning stuff. This bullshit probably makes them feel superior since they're our upperclassmen."
"No way."
Kurapika's eyes are as wide as saucers now. He flinches as the stocky upperclassman screams at him to shut up even though he's barely been speaking above a whisper.
Kurapika has been undergoing some sort of personal crisis lately, hasn't he? It's been apparent since the night of the Dolle Hall party and maybe even before then, but it's especially obvious at this moment. Leorio might not relish the idea of incurring the ire of their upperclassmen, but he'll do what it takes to get Kurapika out of this.
When the stocky upperclassman turns away to shush a sniffling freshman in off-white boxers, Leorio tugs on the hem of Kurapika's long-sleeved shirt and mouths, "Follow me."
Leorio takes a sharp left and leads Kurapika into a dark, deserted stockroom. As Kurapika reaches for the light switch, Leorio stops his roommate's hand with his own.
"Don't," Leorio says. "We don't want the upperclassmen to find us."
Kurapika draws back his hand sharply. "What is this place? Why did you bring me here?"
It's just like Kurapika to be suspicious of even somebody who's trying to save him. For some reason, he's clearly been conditioned to expect ulterior motives from everyone around him.
Leorio parts his mouth to explain himself. But he switches gears once he hears a flurry of activity outside.
Instinctively, he shoves Kurapika into the nearest closet then jumps in after him. Just as he pulls the closet door shut, the stockroom door opens.
There's the sound of footsteps venturing in. An upperclassman is probably checking various nooks and crannies of the dormitory for any stray freshmen who might've hidden.
Leorio looks at Kurapika and presses his index finger against his own lips. But this signal hardly seems necessary — Kurapika appears to have stopped breathing altogether as he stands stock-still with his back against the wood.
Leorio realizes just then how closely their bodies are wedged together in this cramped closet. If Kurapika tilts his head sideward even slightly, his lips will be kissing the seam between Leorio's pecs. And if Leorio moves his waist even a millimeter forward, he'll practically be humping Kurapika's hip.
Is Leorio the only one who can taste the sexual tension crackling in the air, hot and hypnotic within the closet's stuffy confines? Is it only his skin that's thrumming with electricity on every point of contact between their bodies?
If nothing else, Leorio can feel Kurapika's heart hammering against his own torso. Leorio's own heartbeat is so obscenely loud it seems impossible that Kurapika can't hear its crashing roar like ocean waves against his ears.
Leorio forces himself to stop staring at Kurapika's lips, which look as sumptuous and moist as the most sinful of pastries. Instead, Leorio trains his eyes on a first aid kit on an upper shelf.
He waits for his overheated head to cool down. Of course, it's far too late for him to restrain the feverish excitement of his other head. He can only hope that Kurapika attributes the hardness jutting against his hip to the mobile phone inserted into the pocket of Leorio's sweatpants.
Mercifully, the upperclassman who entered the stockroom doesn't linger long. Soon enough, there's the sound of a door swinging shut, then the muffled sounds of footsteps growing increasingly distant.
Now that they're alone again, they both step out of the closet. Leorio turns on the light since it's already silent outside.
Leorio wastes no time in apologizing for cornering Kurapika in the stockroom and shoving him without warning into the closet. "If you think I've been acting shady, I can't blame you. But I was just worried about you. I felt like it would be best to ditch the upperclassmen since you were freaking out back there."
"I smelled cherry chapstick beneath the ski mask," Kurapika mumbles, staring downward. "Once I got a whiff of that scent, I felt like crawling out of my skin."
"Huh?"
Kurapika shakes his head as if attempting to clear it. He then raises his gaze from his own slippered feet to the area above Leorio's left shoulder. "So is this the reason why you led me here? Because you were concerned about my psychological state? You truly had no other motives?"
"Yup. That's it."
"Hisoka didn't put you up to this?"
"Who?"
Kurapika locks eyes with Leorio now. Unaccustomed to prolonged eye contact with his roommate, Leorio holds his breath.
When Kurapika nods, apparently satisfied, Leorio exhales and inhales deeply, oxygen and relief rushing in. "I just want you to be okay, Kurapika. Honest."
"I'm okay. Or I will be, eventually." Kurapika pauses, seeming to simmer briefly over his next words. "Leorio, I can't thank you enough for tonight. You discerned that I was in a distressed state and acted swiftly to extract me from that situation. No, I'm grateful to you for more than tonight. From the first day we met, you've been consistently considerate and kind. I apologize for always being difficult when you're doing the best you can. You certainly don't deserve such appalling treatment."
Leorio scratches his nape out of embarrassment. "No need to say sorry! I'm just doing what a friend would do. . . ." He trails off, feeling foolish now as he recalls Kurapika explicitly telling him before he wasn't interested in friendship.
But Kurapika surprises Leorio by holding out his right hand. "You've been a wonderful friend to me, Leorio. I hope to return the favor soon."
Leorio, whose proffered handshake was previously snubbed, finally gets to shake Kurapika's hand. Leorio's palm is tingling all over even after Kurapika releases it.
"Oh, that's right," Leorio pipes up. "I've been wanting to do something with you for a few days now."
"Something with me?"
Leorio reaches for the first aid kid in the closet. "I noticed you injured your knuckles. Not to knock whichever doctor patched you up, but I feel like I could do a much better job even if I'm still a pre-med student. Mind giving me your hand again?"
After a moment's hesitation, Kurapika extends his right hand toward Leorio, who takes it with both of his own.
Gently, Leorio peels away the band-aids so that he can clean and disinfect the wounds beneath.
"I stuck those band-aids myself," Kurapika admits. "In case you've been revising your favorable view of the medical profession, you should know I bear the brunt of the blame."
"I guessed as much. You're right-handed, aren't you? Applying band-aids would be tough for anyone to do with their non-dominant hand. You should've asked somebody else to patch you up."
"Perhaps I should have."
"For future reference, I'm always available."
Leorio flashes a broad smile. Silence then follows as he concentrates on laying down fresh band-aids over Kurapika's knuckles.
"All done!" Leorio announces.
"Thank you." Kurapika runs the fingertips of his left hand over the band-aids. Each one is so smoothly applied that its surface hardly shows any grooves. He looks Leorio in the eye again. "So you mentioned earlier that your friend Pietro warned you about tonight's initiation rites?"
"Sorta," Leorio replies. "Pietro kept his wording vague, but if I was just using my brain like I was supposed to, I would've put two and two together and realized what he meant."
"Still, it was decent of him to tip you off."
"Yeah! Pietro's the most stand-up dude you'll ever meet! I've been wanting to introduce you to him, actually."
Kurapika pauses for a few seconds before responding. "Yes, judiciously expanding my social circle might not be the worst idea in the world. If this Pietro is anything like you, he'll be somebody worth knowing."
Leorio goes beet-red at the implied praise. He starts babbling, as he tends to do whenever he's flustered. "Pietro's one-hundred-percent the guy you want in your corner! I've been bosom buddies with him since we were both in diapers so I know what I'm saying."
"I find it admirable that you two have succeeded in sustaining your connection over the course of so many years. Often, even the most solid friendships fizzle out. People change and grow apart."
Leorio nods. "True. When I was growing up, there were kids from my neighborhood whom I could've sworn I'd keep in my life forever. Now I barely ever speak to them, let alone think about them. But the usual ending of childhood friendships isn't in the cards for Pietro and me, I suppose."
"And why do you think that is? What makes your relationship so special?"
Leorio stares. Kurapika is asking him incredibly personal questions about himself, isn't he? And Kurapika doesn't seem like the type to make such inquiries merely to be polite or to pass the time. Genuine curiosity is kindling those soulful sepia eyes.
And so Leorio divulges everything without reservation.
Leorio was born and raised in an impoverished informal settlement on the outskirts of a thriving business center. Living on a mainland bordered by the sea, he often looked longingly at distant green islands dotting the horizon.
One day, when Leorio was twelve, his closest friend collapsed all of a sudden as the youth in their neighborhood were holding a casual football match over dusty streets.
An enigmatic ailment left Pietro bedridden for weeks. Nobody in their neighborhood or in the nearest public hospital could figure out what was the matter with him. His family lacked the finances to score a check-up with a fancy city doctor.
Leorio swallowed his pride and begged his own gambling, good-for-nothing parents to surrender any jenny they might've set aside for his future, only to be told that there was none. His mother drunkenly hollered at him to sit back and wait for heavenly providence to smile down upon him, or at least for the more prosperous side of their family on Whale Island to grant him alms out of pity.
Leorio returned empty-handed to the shanty where Pietro's family lived. There, the local naturopath assessed his friend's vital signs and predicted he'd die within the day.
Sitting by Pietro's cot as the boy's parents left to scrounge up enough jenny for rudimentary funeral arrangements, Leorio cried and blamed their families' and community's lack of financial resources for Pietro's terrible predicament.
Leorio swore to Pietro that — someday, somehow — he'd reinvent himself into a big-shot doctor who could prevent a tragedy like this from ever transpiring again. He'd concentrate initially on treating wealthy clients and accumulating funds. After a few years, he'd then devote those earnings to his true calling — serving as a pro bono doctor who could address the ailments of the poorest of the poor.
The next morning, Pietro suddenly rose from his cot. He was fully restored to health, with no explanation for what had originally made him sick or what had cured him. It was both a mystery and a miracle.
Pietro revealed to Leorio that, as he was lying immobile, he could hear everything spoken to him at his bedside. Pietro thus bound Leorio, who'd previously expressed no discernible ambition, to his promise of commencing the education and training needed to become a doctor.
The two of them also agreed to attend the same college. Pietro, who'd always been the most promising among the neighborhood youth, secured a scholarship to Zaban University easily enough.
As for Leorio, he failed the admission test twice. Despite these setbacks, his childhood covenant with Pietro kept him from settling or giving up. For two whole years, he worked tirelessly during the day and studied incessantly at night.
Then the day came when he passed the exam that would be his first official step toward achieving his dreams. Pietro, of course, welcomed him to Zaban U with open arms.
When Leorio finishes telling this story, Kurapika thanks him for his honesty.
Leorio laughs at this. "I should be the one thanking you for listening to the entire saga! I know it was long and boring. I should've been less honest and embellished here and there to keep it spicy."
"I wasn't bored at all, truth be told. Although I've teased you before, deep down I've never found it tedious to listen to your nightly chattering, Leorio."
"Now I know you're just saying that to be nice!"
Kurapika shakes his head. "I'm not nice. Nor have I ever claimed to be. So I wouldn't be saying these things simply to project a persona that I'm not."
"Point taken." When Kurapika's eyes drift toward the door, Leorio prompts him with a question. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Are you hearing what I'm hearing?"
They both fall silent and listen intently. Outside, there's the trudging of multiple pairs of feet. The freshmen are likely returning to their rooms after the hazing in the rec room.
Leorio confirms this theory by peering at the corridor through a crack at the door. Upon his signal that it's safe, Kurapika follows him outside.
They fall into the line of freshmen and pretend they've been there the entire time.
They return to their dorm room without any trouble. Though they say nothing as they clamber onto their respective beds, the silence that settles between them is companionable for once.