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It’s easier to sleep on Whale Island.
Leorio’s a city boy, born and raised, and he’s had to teach himself to relax without the constant cars and crowds, without the chatter and the clamoring. Here, it’s all wind in the trees and waves crashing on every side. It’s chickadees chirping, and gulls honking, and the damn dog barking at everything ‘cause he thinks he’s tough. It’s a new kind of chatter, a green and organic one, rising straight out of the Earth.
It’s the way Kurapika mumbles in their sleep.
It’s the way the dog snores .
It’s the way the twins gurgle and coo in their cots in the middle of the night, not screaming to be fed, but just requesting a little snuggle time.
That’s what wakes him up this morning, when the sun drips like melted butter through the curtains.
He’s sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before the babies so much as whimper, stretching his arms and giving a yawn. His movement does nothing to wake the hundred pound dog sleeping on his legs, but it does make Kurapika stir a little. Leorio cringes, tries to stay still with bated breath, until Kurapika simply rolls over, buries their face into their pillow and goes back to sleep. The breath leaves Leorio in a whoosh . The last thing he wants to do is wake up his husband on the one day he got them to agree to sleep in.
Leorio slips out of bed carefully and tiptoes around the bed to Kurapika’s side. Their house is big--big enough to accommodate the two of them, the dog, their babies, and four teenagers (Nanika makes five)--but it’s nice to share a room with the twins for now. Kurapika insisted on it, citing cultural traditions and a need for reassurance concerning their safety. It makes everything easier, and Leorio likes having them close too.
There’s no better way to wake up in the morning than to see your entire universe condensed into one eyeful.
Leorio kneels down in front of the twins’ bassinet (they refuse to sleep in separate cribs, even now when they’re big enough to roll around in the middle of the night and bump into each other) and a slow, lovestruck smile dances across his face. This is his life now. He gets to wake up like this every day .
Pairo always wakes up first, because she’s a bundle of boundless energy. Her little face scrunches as she wiggles awake, her tufts of dark hair sticking out in all directions. Leorio reaches into the bassinet and walks two of his fingers across her tummy before tickling her neck. She gurgles happily and opens her eyes, immediately kicking her feet and reaching for him.
Her eyes, wide and delighted, bleed from a warm brown to a deep, searing scarlet. They glow like glittering rubies, or iridescent beetle wings, and people really aren’t kidding when they say it’s the most beautiful color in the world.
“Good morning,” he whispers, mindful not to wake Kurapika as he wiggles his hands underneath Pairo and lifts her out of the bassinet. Holding her at eye-level, Leorio leans in and presses a scruffy-jawed kiss to each of her fat little cheeks. “Hello...!” he coos again, catching her little hand as she excitedly swings it a little too close to his nose. He kisses her palm, and then all of her fat, tiny fingers. “Yeah, good morning, baby girl…! I think it’s time to wake up your brother, huh?”
Leorio kisses Pairo’s chubby cheeks again before setting her down in the bassinet and grabbing the hand woven sling wrap from the bedside table.
Kurapika made it themselves, spending long hours in front of the loom, surrounded by mountains and foothills of rainbow yarn and only stopping when their back started hurting. It’s a sacred, special thing, and there’s even a few stripes that look wobbly and not quite as precise from when Leorio tried to help. He’d fumbled with the yarn, tangling it up around his fingers until he couldn’t tell where the thread even started--apologizing profusely because he thought it would be as easy as the stitches he gives his patients every day. Kurapika just laughed and kissed his hand as they helped untangle the yarn from around his wrist.
They’d had to teach him how to tie it too, but after two months of practice and six months of doing it with actual babies , Leorio likes to think he’s a natural. He unfurls the wrap horizontally and makes sure it’s straight before wrapping it around his torso. After crossing the two ends behind his back, he lifts the ends and fans out the wrap over his shoulders. He lifts Pairo again, and kisses her small, soft head before tucking her into the makeshift belt around his chest. She snuggles up to him and coos, resting her cheek against his chest and waving her little arms around with excitement.
She’s definitely a morning baby.
Pietro? Not so much.
Once he secures her legs and makes sure she’s comfortably tied in, Leorio takes on the task of waking up her twin brother.
It’s not that he puts up a fight, it’s just that he’s usually so sleepy for the first few hours that he just flops around uselessly. During meals, he’ll latch on, get a little milk, and then fall asleep again. It takes ages to get him to finish a bottle since they keep having to wake him up.
Leorio leans over the side of the bassinet again. Pietro looks just like Kurapika when he sleeps--soft blonde hair curled against his forehead, lying perfectly still. Leorio gently rubs his soft, chubby cheek a few times with his thumb until Pietro’s dark eyes suddenly flutter open. He sees Leorio and wiggles happily, eyes immediately going red.
“Hey, little guy…Good morning…!” Leorio scoops him up and kisses his cheeks. However, the scruff on his jaw and chin makes Pietro wiggle and squirm. “Aw, sorry, kid…” He rubs a soothing finger over Pietro’s little face. “I forgot how much you hate Daddy’s scruff in the morning.” He tucks Pietro into the sling next to Pairo, grinning when the two of them immediately join their little hands across his chest. “I bet you two want some breakfast, huh? But we have to be very quiet, because it’s Papa’s birthday and we want ‘em to get lots of sleep…”
Leorio tiptoes through the bedroom very mindfully, grimacing and freezing in place when his foot lands on a creaky floorboard. He loves his house, but it’s old and therefore not the best for sneaking around early in the morning.
However, it only wakes the dog, who lifts his fluffy white head and turns to Leorio and the babies. His heavy jowls lift in a smile, and he immediately begins flopping his tail against the mattress. Shit.
“Aw, Charlie, no, don’t do that…!” He moves a little closer to try and calm him down, because when Charles wags his tail he wags his entire body . Leorio gives him a pat, and Charlie flops onto his belly with a whump! “ Noooooo ….Why don’t you ever listen to me, buddy?” All Kurapika has to do is narrow their eyes and say Charles in a soft, strict tone to get him to behave, but Leorio just can’t seem to exert the same aura of authority.
But of course, he has to be the one to chase Charlie all over the island when he gets a little too playful and decides to run off to Lord only knows where.
Leorio tries to glare at him, but ends up caving and giving Charlie a belly rub so good that his back paw starts thumping. “You gotta stay here with Kurapika, okay?” he asks, patting his head, “I know you wanna come downstairs, but just snuggle up to them and keep them company for a little while longer while they sleep.”
Charlie gives a happy little snuffle and rolls onto his side, resting his face against Kurapika’s legs. If any of this woke them up, they’re not showing it; they continue to sleep like a rock, the blankets pulled up to their cheeks.
Seeing Kurapika sleep is always a relief--it reminds Leorio that there was a time when they used to go days, maybe even weeks without taking care of themselves. It reminds Leorio that things are better now, that Kurapika is safe , and home , and can rest easy. They don’t need to worry about the Troupe, or the eyes, or revenge . That fire, those roaring flames of anger and guilt, have willingly contained themselves in a hearth to bring warmth and comfort instead of destruction.
Life is good now.
Leorio carries the babies down to the kitchen, strolling through the quiet hallways. It’s still early, the sun just barely peeking over the rolling green hills to give them a good morning kiss.
He retrieves two bottles of milk from the fridge and heats them up in a pot of warm water as he gets everything together for breakfast. He gets the griddle plugged in, prepares the mixing bowl and spoon, and starts to measure out the dry ingredients. Most Kurta recipes are relatively simple, since they rarely went into town and only ate what they could farm, hunt, and gather.
Kurapika always said this one was their favorite.
Once the milk is warm, Leorio sits down on the kitchen table, a bottle in each hand, and feeds the twins.
Pairo, impulsive and excitable, sucks the milk down eagerly, only pausing to catch her breath before diving back in. She drinks like it’s her last meal, and then promptly spits up onto the towel resting on Leorio’s shoulder. Her brother drinks slowly, predictably falling asleep after a few sips.
“Come on, sleepyhead…” Leorio rubs Pietro’s cheeks to wake him up, grinning when a sliver of red peeks out from between his baby’s long eyelashes. “There you are...come on. You gotta finish your breakfast, and then you can nap all you want.”
After the twins have drank and spit up to their hearts’ content, Leorio can get started on breakfast.
He beats together a bottle of milk and a few eggs, having memorized the proportions for a batch of blueberry pancakes to feed seven very hungry people. If someone asked him to cook for just himself, he’s not sure if he’d actually know how to do it.
He’s just begun blending the wet and dry ingredients when Kalluto slips into the kitchen, hair brushed and already dressed for the day. They don’t feel the need to move silently anymore, or scurry around with their head down. Sure, Kalluto’s a quiet kid, and they like their time alone, but they don’t sneak around the house like an elusive little ghost. They even give a little swish of their sundress to make themselves known before they sit down at the table.
“Morning, Kalluto,” Leorio greets, grinning at the fourteen year-old over his shoulder as he stirs the batter, “Did you sleep well?”
Kalluto nods, and glances to the ingredients on the table. They pick up a blueberry and examine it. “They’re fresher than the ones we had last month,” they observe, eyes tracking the blueberry as they roll it around in their hand.
“Yeah--the folks at the market said that this is the first new batch of the season.” Leorio sets down his spoon and pushes up one sleeve, and then the other. “You can try one if you want.”
It hasn’t been easy for Kalluto to unlearn the bullshit pounded into their head by the Zoldycks, so sometimes they need a gentle nudge, a reminder that they can do what they want now. Kalluto nods, and pops the blueberry into their mouth, chewing it and smiling.
“Good, huh?” Leorio asks, picking up the spoon again. “Why don’t you bring those over here? I’m just getting ready to mix them in.”
Kalluto brings the bowl over and hops up onto the countertop with a grace and silence that only a former assassin can achieve. They sit down and cross their legs, feet dangling over the edge of the counter, holding the bowl of blueberries in their lap. “Did you know that apple seeds contain trace amounts of cyanide?” they ask thoughtfully, “Every time you eat an apple seed, you release amygdalin from the seeds, and that produces cyanide.”
Some things, you just can’t unlearn.
“Wow,” Leorio replies as he reaches over for the first handful of blueberries, “Great.” He sprinkles the berries into the bowl of batter and begins to stir. “Good thing we’re not using apples, huh?”
“It wouldn’t matter if you did.” Kalluto bounces their foot as they hold the bowl out to Leorio so he can take more berries. “The body can detoxify small amounts.” Leorio knows this, because he’s a doctor, but he doesn’t interrupt. Kalluto’s a clever kid, and they deserve to feel like the smartest person in the room sometimes. “It would take all the seeds from a bushel of apples, ground into a fine powder, to actually poison someone.”
Leorio dumps more blueberries into the mixing bowl and continues to stir. Pietro watches him, eyes wide, attentive, and chocolate brown. Pairo, on the other hand, glances all over the kitchen. She observes the bowl of fruit on the counter, and the worn mahogany cabinets. Her eyes linger on the boxes of tea lined up next to the kettle, and the potted herbs on the windowsill. She’s gotta see it all. He kisses both of them on the head as he keeps preparing the batter for the griddle.
He’s almost done loading in the blueberries when the pitter patter of a new set of feet travels down the hallway.
Woble wanders into the kitchen and makes a beeline for Leorio. She wraps his arms against his legs and squeezes him tightly before tugging at his sleep shirt. “I wanna say good morning to the babies!” she orders in true royal fashion, grinning widely. She recently lost her first tooth, so she smiles every chance she gets to show off her gap. But most of all, she’s just a smiley little girl.
Leorio grins and kneels down in front of her. “Morning, your highness!” He drops a hand onto the top of her head, ruffling her soft, tight curls.
“Morning!” She stands on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek before leaning down and devoting all of her attention to the babies. “Good morning, babies!” She touches their heads, and gives them both kisses. Oito frequently lets her come to the island to stay, usually for a week in the spring and three weeks in the summer, so long as she keeps up with her studies.
“Wanna help me make breakfast?” he asks, and she nods with an affirming hum. Leorio grabs her by the waist and hoists her up onto his shoulders. He’s so tall that her head nearly brushes the ceiling, and she immediately rests her cheek on the top of his head. “How’s the weather up there?”
Woble nudges his ribcage gently with her little foot. “It’s the same, silly!” Her legs tighten around him. “Are we having pancakes?”
“Yep.” Leorio grabs a blueberry and holds it above his head, offering it to Woble. She takes it and he returns to stirring. “It’s Kurapika’s favorite, so we’re making it for their birthday, and then we’re gonna bring it to them in bed.”
“And then we’re going to the lake?” she asks, playing with Leorio’s hair distractedly. “Can we swim?”
“It might be a little too cold for swimming,” he replies, “But we’ll see when we get there.” Yorknew got cold in the fall, freezing in the winter, and chilly in the spring--but life on Whale Island is warm and lazy. The temperature spikes in the summer and dips around November, but otherwise it’s pretty mild. It’s the perfect place to raise a family--sunny and green, with lots to do outside. And boy, do they have a family .
Gon and Killua roll into the kitchen next--no doubt beckoned by the smell of fresh pancakes--yawning and stretching as they sit down at the table.
“Tell me someone made coffee,” Killua mumbles in true dramatic nineteen year-old fashion, dragging a hand down his face.
“I got it!” Gon springs up from the table and brushes Killua’s white hair out of his face. He leans down to kiss Killua on the forehead. “No cream and six sugar cubes, right?”
Nodding tiredly, Killua leans forward to catch Gon’s lips. “Uh-huh...Thanks.”
“ Six sugar cubes?” Leorio asks, scoffing as he flips a pancake, “It’s a miracle that you still have teeth.” He catches Killua giving him the stink eye over his shoulder and grins.
“Morning, Leorio!” Gon slips past Leorio to grab the coffee press and bag of grounds from the cupboard. On his way back around, he leans down to take each of the twins’ hands. “Morning, babies!” He kisses them both on the head and continues on his way, humming to himself.
The kitchen is now abuzz with activity, folks chatting amongst themselves as Leorio loads pancake after pancake onto a serving platter big enough to feed everyone. He sets aside two plates, one of them adorned with daisies in a tiny glass vase. Killua gets his coffee and starts to perk up, and Alluka stumbles in wearing her nightgown and mismatched socks, sleepily explaining that Nanika said five more minutes . He finishes the last batch and finishes loading up the plates.
On the one with the daisies, he adds a smear of jam, a dollop of sweet cream, and a few more berries. It’s the Kurta way to prepare it.
“Try not to set anything on fire while I’m gone,” he warns the teens and Woble as he picks up both plates, “And pack whatever you want to bring to the lake, because once we’re there, I’m not gonna walk all the way back.” Gon gives him a little wave, and Killua mumbles something incomprehensible into his coffee.
Leorio makes his way to the bedroom and nudges the door open carefully. Kurapika hasn’t moved since he left--they’re still cocooned in the blankets, fast asleep. He grins, setting the two plates down on the bedside table. Charlie lifts his head, snuffling and gazing longingly at the pancakes.
“Not for you,” Leorio whispers, pointing to the door, “Go to the kitchen, they’ll feed you.” Smug, he smiles as he watches Charlie hop off the bed and wander down the hall.
Kurapika rolls onto their back, squinting against the sunlight. They attempt to say something articulate, but it just comes out as “ Mm’orio ?” and they shouldn’t be this cute when they’re just waking up.
“Morning, sunshine.” Leorio sits down next to them on the bed and begins untying the sling. “Brought you breakfast. But most importantly…” He pulls Pairo free and gently sets her down on Kurapika’s chest. “I brought you this.” Then, he untucks Pietro and sets him next to her. “And this.”
Kurapika smiles, a lazy, happy thing, like a cat who just woke up from a nap in the sun. They wrap their arms around both babies and cradle their heads. Softly, they mumble something to the babies in a language that Leorio’s still learning to understand. Their eyes glow like a lit fireplace.
Leorio feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.
He huffs out a little laugh and lies down on the mattress, stretching his legs behind him and resting his cheek against Kurapika’s neck. He looks up at them and smacks a kiss to their cheek. “Oh, and I brought that.” His fingers splay across their jaw, and he carefully pulls them in to kiss them again. “And that. Oh, and also this.” When Kurapika least expects it, Leorio props himself onto his elbows and starts attacking their face with scruffy morning kisses. “But wait! There’s more! I also brought you these !” Once he’s satisfied with the firestorm, he rolls onto his side and lays his hand over theirs. “Happy birthday, honey.”
Kurapika carefully cranes their neck forward to kiss him again. “Thank you,” they mumble against his lips, “I hope that’s all you brought me.”
God, they say that every time, but then, if Leorio doesn’t actually get them something, the world will implode and they’ll sulk for weeks. They just like to pretend that there’s nothing else that they could possibly want, but who doesn’t like presents?
“Not a chance,” he replies, as both a threat and a promise, “But presents can wait.”
“Mm…” They kiss each baby on the head, staring down at them with this look on their face. It’s like they’re holding treasure. “These are the best presents you could’ve brought me.”
“Oh, cool, so I guess I’ll just throw out everything else I got you, then,” Leorio teases, grimacing playfully when Kurapika head-butts them gently. “Ow! You’re a real jerk, y’know that?”
“Is that so? Then why did you marry me?” They sit up a little more and turn, setting the twins down on the bed next to them. Pairo wiggles, grunting happily and reaching for Kurapika with grabby hands. They lower their face down to hers, smiling when she reaches for their hair and gives it a tug. “Now, that’s just rude,” they reprimand softly, tickling her stomach. She releases their hair and flaps her arms instead, squealing happily. Kurapika then turns their attention to Pietro, rubbing his cheek gently with his thumb and mumbling a soft hello.
Leorio could stare at them for hours. He could just waste away, watching Kurapika play with and coo over their babies. Sometimes he catches them like this, soft and warm, and asks himself is this the guy? Is this that chain user who’s killed Phantom Troupe members in cold blood? Is this that mafia kingpin who used to sit in an empty church and ignore everyone’s calls? Is this the same scarlet-eyed spitfire who threatened Leorio’s life mere hours after meeting him?
Yes, this is them--still fiery, still fierce, but softer around the edges. This is who they’ve always been, hidden under that distant exterior, locked up behind all that pain, all that righteous fury. This is them now that they’re free.
Leorio comes out of his thoughts to find three pairs of scarlet eyes staring at him lovingly.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing the plates, “Let’s eat.”
…
Breakfast is delicious, and Kurapika can never get over how close it tastes to their mother’s recipe. She used to make this for them on their birthday and carry them to the breakfast table on her back. Between then and now, they’ve spent one too many birthdays without blueberry pancakes.
Kurapika spends some quality time with the twins while Leorio showers and shaves, lying down beside them on the bed and watching them squirm.
Every day of the past six months has been bliss. Sure, they’ve had their moments--nobody said that raising a family was easy--but even when it’s hard, it’s perfect. It’s good . Even on nights when neither twin would sleep, waking one another up with their constant crying, it was still perfect. Even on nights when Kurapika woke up with a scream caught in their throat, haunted by another nightmare of a swarm of spiders stealing their babies away, it was still perfect.
“I’m going to protect you,” they promise, not for the first or last time, as they lift both babies into their arms, “I’ll never let any harm come to you.” Pairo giggles and wiggles in their arms, and Pietro just stares at them with observant, careful eyes. “You two don’t understand what I’m saying, do you?” They pitch up their voice a little and lean down to give the twins a kiss each. “Do you?” they coo, “Of course you don’t, because you’re very small, and you’re just starting to grasp language, aren’t you? Yes…!”
“Did you just use baby talk?” Leorio asks from the doorway, towel tied around his waist. “Were you, Kurapika, avenger of the Kurta Clan, mafia kingpin, using baby talk ?”
“Were you spying on me?” Kurapika turns their head with a flustered scowl. Still, a smile nudges at the corners of their mouth.
Leorio snorts and heads for the closet. “What, can a guy not gaze lovingly at the loves of his life?”
To be honest, Kurapika loves the attention. They’ll turn their head, and squirm, and pout as much as they want, but it doesn’t change the fact that allowing themselves to be loved is thrilling and exciting. They should be used to it by now, but there’s something about knowing that they’re the love of Leorio’s life (well, one of them) takes their breath away.
They watch Leorio as he gets dressed, looking away coquettishly whenever he notices, just because it’s amusing to be a tease. He wears traditional Kurta clothes sometimes, ones that Kurapika sewed by hand. He’d been awkward the first time he wore them, tugging at the edges and straightening out the folds.
( “Are you sure I can wear these? I mean...I don’t want to be offensive.”
“Who would you be offending? Me? I made them for you.”
“Yeah, but it’s not my culture--I mean, it’s yours, and it’s gonna be the babies’ culture, so like...I want to participate, but I don’t want to cross any boundaries.”
“There are no boundaries for you to cross. You’re Kurta. This is your culture now.” )
Now, Leorio wears his tunics and tabards proudly, showing off their family’s culture. Kurapika isn’t the only Kurta anymore. They no longer have to carry that burden. It feels new. It feels...it feels good.
Plus, they think he looks very handsome in traditional clothes.
Kurapika dresses too, slipping into a matching tunic and trousers, and toeing into their flats. Leorio ties the sling wrap around their torso, not because he doubts their ability to tie it themselves, but likely so he has an excuse to kiss their neck as he pushes their hair out of the way. Once the twins are tied in and secured, Kurapika grabs Leorio’s collar and pulls him down to eye level.
“Hi.” Leorio leans forward and presses a kiss to their nose. “Love you.”
Kurapika smiles, their hand trailing from Leorio’s collar to his clean-shaven jaw. “I love you too.” They’ll never tire of saying it, and they’ll never tire of hearing it. “Come on. I’m sure everyone must be eager to get to the lake.”
The moment they leave the bedroom, Kurapika finds themselves bombarded with hugs and kisses from all the kids. Charlie bounces excitedly around them, barking and wagging his tail. They’re never alone in this house, and they couldn’t be happier.
“Good morning, everyone.” It feels good to have people to greet every morning. Having a big family gives Kurapika a sense of purpose and familiarity. This family is a small little clan, huddled together by choice on an island where nothing bad can reach them.
Kalluto steps forward with a reserved smile and looks up at Kurapika. “I hope you have a successful birthday,” they offer, always so sage and polite.
“I’m sure I will,” Kurapika promises, “Every day I spend with all of you is a success.”
Alluka slips between them and Kalluto, arms open. “Kurapika!” she requests happily, “Happy birthday! Give me a hug!”
Kurapika wraps their arms around her tightly, patting her head.
Over the past few years, Alluka’s requests have grown more and more mild. She no longer asks for anyone’s fingernails or liver, and she never wants anything that someone would be afraid to give her. Then again, Nanika hasn’t been asked to grant any big wishes--just little things, like fixing a broken plate. No one exploits her power here. She and Alluka are safe, and now have the freedom to be carefree teenage girls.
“Thank you, Alluka.” Kurapika gives a nod. Even now, they still find themselves overwhelmed by the sheer amount of love in this home. At any given time, there are at least three people nearby willing to give them a hug.
Woble rushes forward and wraps her arms around their knees. “Happy Birthday, ‘Pika!” She nuzzles their waist affectionately. It wasn’t so long ago that she was the twins’ age, reaching for Kurapika, trusting them. The first time they held her--that was when they realized that having a family might be a possibility.
Kurapika kneels down and sets their hands on her shoulders before leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Thank you very much, your majesty.” She wrinkles her nose, showing off her missing tooth as she smiles. Kurapika doesn’t need to use the formalities, but they like making her feel like the prince she is. “Did you enjoy your breakfast?”
“Mmhm!” Woble’s bushy hair bounces as she nods eagerly. “I’m still hungry, though! Charlie had some of my pancakes!” No doubt she snuck him little bites under the table. Is that why he’s always begging?
Charlie wags his tail at Kurapika, plopping down next to Woble and lifting his chin in a request for scratches.
Kurapika clicks their tongue and pets Charlie’s ears. “Charles, is that true?” Charlie lowers his head with a whine, but perks back up when Kurapika kisses his head. They’re only halfway through standing up when Gon and Killua attack them from both sides, sandwiching them in a double hug.
“Happy birthday, Kurapika!” Gon smacks a kiss to their cheek. “Can you believe you’re twenty five ?”
Killua jostles their shoulder playfully. “Yeah, you’re almost as old as Leorio!”
“Seriously?!” Leorio whines, picnic basket in hand, “Say that again, and we’re leaving without you.”
Killua sticks his tongue out. “Try me, old man!”
As everyone files out the door, Kurapika bumps Leorio’s shoulder with their own. “You look good for your age,” they promise, laughing when he shoves at them and mumbles to himself about only being twenty seven .
The walk to the lake is short and sunny, and even though it’s still too chilly to swim comfortably, Woble insists on taking her shoes off and running along the water’s edge as soon as they get there.
“Look at me, Kurapika!” She grins, hair bouncing as she does a cartwheel along the shoreline.
Charlie chases after her, unable to resist the water. If he sees mud, he’ll roll in it, and if he sees water, he’ll dive in. It’s just how he is. He launches headfirst into an oncoming wave, sending drops of water splattering onto Gon and Killua.
Killua immediately charges after Charlie, shouting something about a big, dumb furball . Gon laughs and follows, and the two of them end up just racing each other along the beach. Alluka and Kalluto, arm in arm, begin to stroll along the shoreline, likely in search of shells.
“Excellent job, Woble!” Kurapika calls back from the grassy hill as they unfurl the picnic blanket.
“Be careful in there!” Leorio warns, watching warily as Woble does another cartwheel, “If you get too cold, come back up here! Your mother will have us beheaded if we let you catch a cold.”
Woble laughs shaking her head. “No she won’t!”
Leorio kneels down in the grass and helps Kurapika spread out the blanket, weighing it down with the picnic basket so it doesn’t blow away. “Yeah, well, let’s not wait to find out, okay?” He lies down, shimmying his shoulders as he gets comfortable. Then, he lifts his hands in Kurapika’s direction. “Gimme a kid.”
Kurapika smiles and lifts Pairo out of the sling. She immediately starts to wiggle, making grabby hands for Leorio’s shirt. “Incoming,” they warn as they deposit her onto his stomach. Pairo gurgles happily, flopping over Leorio and kicking her feet. Kurapika sits down, legs crossed, and takes Pietro out of the sling as well. He’s still learning to sit up, so Kurapika has to support him with a hand on his back as he leans over Leorio, resting his arms against his forehead and resting his cheek on top of them.
“Hi.” Leorio reaches up, gazing at Kurapika with something that they’re no longer afraid to name (it’s love, it’s devotion, it’s adoration ), and touches their face gently.
Smiling down at him, Kurapika takes his hand and holds it to their cheek. “Hello.” When did they become so open to accepting touch again? When did they start asking for it? A surge of happiness ripples through their heart and shivers through their entire body, filling them up with bubbles and soft clouds.
Their eyes, likely scarlet with happiness, watch the beach. Gon and Killua run barefoot through the sand after the dog, shouting and laughing. Alluka and Kalluto walk tucked together along the shoreline, occasionally bending down to pick up a nice shell or a rock. Woble, a bundle of energy, does cartwheels through the sand.
They never thought they’d get to have this again--a lively and active home, a big family...It used to seem like a distant memory and an unattainable dream. Sometimes Kurapika gets taken aback by how good their life is now. Everyone that matters to them is safe and within reach. There’s no more danger, no more spiders that scuttle across the ceiling at night and rob Kurapika of the ones they love. There are only warm spring days and soft breezes, blooming gardens and babies that wiggle and coo. That’s what drives their life now.
Leorio seems to notice that they’re thinking too hard, and pats their cheek. “Good birthday, ‘Pika?” he asks. The lazy, content smile on their face tells them that he already knows the answer.
Turning their head, Kurapika presses a kiss to Leorio’s palm. “The best.”