Work Text:
He was always so tense at these auctions no matter how often he attended them or how much time he puts into planning. There where always a few factors he couldn't be sure of.
First one was the fear that there would be an attack like in York Shin and he would lose sight of the pair of eyes. But he always made sure that the security was high and strict. As a bodyguard of the Nostrades it was easy to get those information.
Second; and that was his worst fear, that somewhere along the line Neon would lose interest. That she would get bored and leave the auction or find something else to buy. He noticed more and more that she was fed up on the eyes, now that she owned quite a few of them.
A third factor was himself. That he would be found out by the way he talked or acted. By the way his face darkened with misery and greed whenever they announced the next object.
That never happened thought. Besides Senritsu nobody gave him a warning look, or a gentle touch to remind him where he was and what he was suppose to do.
The fourth factor was something he never actually considered, or it was something his brain just refused to think about.
The Kurta eyes were announced and his attention focused on the big flatscreen which would show the item to the whole crowd. His hands tightened and he took a deep breath to prepare himself as the screen flashed and the cover was lifted.
The crowed cheered a little and his boss Neon leaned forward in her seat, actually clapping her hands.
Kurapika didn't hear that.
Sound didn't seem to exist anymore as he stared into the scarlet eyes, a bit covered by blonde bangs who floated a little in the liquid the head was conserved in. There was a cut on the cheek of the woman that had long stopped bleeding and never healed up.
It would certainly decrease the price.
The eyes of his mother had no life in them anymore but they burned with a red dullness that let people raise their hands to bid on it. To display it in a cold, dust free room somewhere.
There was a movement in the corner of his eyes and he turned around, watching confused as Senritsu fell to her knees, covering her ears. She seemed to be in pain.
Was it some sort of noise? Kurapika still didn't hear a single thing, even thought there were so many people around him. The coldness in his bones dulled it.
Still he wanted to kneel down and hold the woman. Asking what was causing her this pain, asking how to get rid of the pain. Wanting to make the pain stop.
He couldn't.
Senritsu let out a lonely cry and with that the sound came rushing back. People phoning, other yelling large numbers. Neon even leaving her seat, raising her slender hand, as happy as ever.
He followed her gaze, getting mesmerized by the screen again.
That was his mother. The woman which voice he couldn’t remember. He also didn't remember her face until just now. She was warm, he remembered that. And she loved to sing and take his hand to try to make him dance. She would laugh and laugh and make terrible jokes and cook his favorite meal if he fell down. And she would scold him for not cleaning up his room.
Now she was dead and her head seemed to float before him. Maybe because he was underwater, he seemed to see everything blurry and couldn't breath.
Maybe he was drowning.
Taking a shaking step back he could feel the door on his back. He needed to get out.
Senritsu looked up, still a pained expression on her face. She was crying, looking so pitiful at him.
He couldn't.
Shaking his head he fled from the VIP-lounge he was in, passing Basho who was guarding the staircase, not minding to reply as the man called after him.
Dashing through the oh so loud crowd in the main hall, he finally found the outside, taking a deep breath. His chest rose, then it seemed to contract itself, crushing his inside.
It hurt badly.
Tugging desperately at his tie he gasped for more air but it felt like he made it even tighter each time.
There was a officer standing before him, moving his mouth but Kurapika didn’t quite understand the words, so he slapped the hand from his shoulder and ran passed the man, not thinking about the strange looks he got from all around him.
He needed to be alone, just for a moment. To collect his thoughts. He seemed to have lost them somewhere.
But as the picture of his mother flashed in his empty head once again his knees bugged and just gave out. He collapsed on the ground, somewhere in a dark alley.
These eyes. These damned eyes. He wanted to rip them out. To go back in time and rip them out so that they could be together again.
The eyes of his mother never were that empty, it must have been a lie.
They flashed before his own, over and over again until he covered them with his fists, feeling the cold chains against his heated skin.
His brain wondered if they brushed her hair to make her look all pretty before putting her in that glass box. Or if they considered just gouging her eyes out anyway and sell them like that, because of that damn scratch on her cheek.
His brain wondered how heavy her head was and if they were gentle while cutting it off to not damage it any further. Did they rip some of her golden hair out while doing that?
He threw up, then screamed and threw up again before blacking out.
Opening his eyes again he looked right at the sky, the light of the city illuminating the darkness. His expensive suit was dirty and nasty while he gasped for more air. There was never enough to fill his chest it seems.
Looking for his pocket he pulled out his cellphone. 27 missed calls, 19 unread messages.
The last two calls where from Senritsu and he lingered over her name to call her back, just to skip to the next name. With a shaking hand he pressed the phone against his ear, listening to the dialing sound.
He still felt sick. Sick and cold and lonely. So terrible lonely. And he didn't want to think or to remember.
The sky above him got blurry and he put his arm over his eyes.
It was scary. His inside was scary.
“What do you want?”
The voice was sharp and he didn't consider that. It cut right into him and he wondered what exactly it was that he wanted. Opening his mouth he remained silent, listening to the familiar breathing in his ear.
A sob ripped from his throat and floated between them, explaining more than words could.
It grew quiet again until there was a click and his phone went dead. Leorio had hung up on him.
Letting his phone slip from his hand he curled up, shaking and crying and wanting to die.
Die, die, die, die and float with his mother.
He wanted to touch her skin and caress her hair and hold her close and protect her. Protect and whisper and talk. Telling her it was alright, everything was okay, nobody would hurt her.
And hear her back, remembering the actual color of her eyes and the color of her voice and what his favorite meal was.
“Stand up. You'll get all dirty.” Opening his eyes he looked up to Leorio standing above him. “Come on now.” He offered him a hand and Kurapika stared at it. “How?”, he asked. His voice was rusty and dry and he was thirsty all of the sudden.
“I wrote you that I was around but I guess you don't read my messages anymore. So Senritsu called me after she found you here and I came over. Now stand up.”
Not moving at all the Kurta still only stared at that hand, not believing that could be true. Not believing that this flat voice belonged to his friend. Not believing that he deserved that happening to him.
He wanted to lay back down and suffer.
“She told me what happened.” Leorios voice was quiet and soft as he withdrew his hand and sat on the floor. “I am sorry.”
The Kurta sat up before he realized it and was wailing against his chest, his hands desperately trying to hold onto something.
Wrapping his arm around the shaking boy he caressed the golden hair, letting his chin rest on top of his head.
“I am so sorry Kurapika.” Sobs racked through the fragile body and Leorio held him even closer, feeling him tremble against his chest. His eyes locked with those of Senritsu. She was covering her ears upon hearing the breaking of hearts and souls, not daring to move a single step closer over the pain of that sound.
She was tearing up while Leorio whispered this sweet empty words over and over again.
Telling him that it was alright.
Telling him everything was okay.