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Piero is born in the spring.
Pregnancy is difficult for a whole myriad of reasons, but even in his lowest moments Kurapika finds wonder in the process. How couldn't he? That doesn't mean he's not glad when it's over, though, and the awe he'd felt for the living being growing within his belly is no match for the astonishment that follows his birth. Cradling him in his arms with his first wails ringing in his ears, he had loved him more than he ever imagined possible, from his tuft of dark hair to his tiny toes.
The question of whether or not he would possess the scarlet eyes was inevitably one Leorio asked long after Kurapika entertained it. Of the one-hundred-and-twenty-eight Kurta clan members only thirty-seven had, thirty-seven who either married within the clan or were the children of those who did. For this reason Kurapika hadn't expected to pass the trait on to his own, and six months later, he's positive that he hasn't. Piero smiled at fourteen weeks, and if the ability had truly been inherited he's positive they would have encountered it by now.
It doesn't matter, not at all. Piero is perfect just as he is.
Six months later summer is also at its peak, and he's exhausted, but it's a worthy exhaustion, the feeling of building a home and taking roost there. In the evening they open the windows to let in the breeze while Leorio readies for sleep, having returned from work and showered off the smell of the hospital. Kurapika sits on their bed with Piero, who is lying on his back and waving his chubby arms and blowing very cute, very messy spit bubbles.
"He had me worried, for a minute," Leorio says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and wiggle a finger at Piero, who tries and fails to grab it. "You know, when we brought him home, he was so serious. I didn't think babies could be so serious!"
(It was true that, among Piero's seemingly endless parade of admirers and well-wishers, he'd spent less time sleeping and more staring off into space with an eerily thoughtful expression for a newborn.
"He's definitely your kid." Izunavi had said.)
"But look at him now," Leorio continues, and coos, "You're a totally regular little guy, ain'tcha?"
Kurapika smiles, and Piero, delighted by Leorio's appearance, shrieks happily.
"It's a shame that you got home so late," Kurapika says, tickling Piero's belly. "He's always thrilled to see you." and now they'll have to get him down while curbing his excitement.
Leorio heaves a sigh, crawling on his knees onto the bed and yawning around his words. "I know, I know," he says, and he lifts Piero with his hands under his arms, beaming. Piero drools and then sneezes, kicking his legs. Kurapika grins, watching Leorio squeeze his eyes shut and make a high-pitched 'Achoo!' sound of his own. Piero looks absolutely dumbfounded, and then...
...and then he smiles, and his eyes brighten to a vibrant red.
Apparently their expressions are just as funny as the sneeze had been, because Piero laughs and Leorio jerks from his baby-induced trance. He makes a strangled sound and carefully lies him back on the bed, reaching behind himself for his phone. "Kurapika--" he hisses, "Where's--"
Kurapika's mouth opens and closes. There's a part of him that remembers auctions and videos uploaded to the deep web and jars and jars of eyes frozen in time and glowing like rubies on dusty shelves, and it goes cold and afraid.
But he hears Leorio sniffling loudly beside him, and he is in the present again.
"No," he says, softly, shaking his head and taking Leorio's wrist. "This is..." a moment that will come again, a moment that will be ordinary and abundant and not archived for fear of losing or forgetting it. Leorio blinks, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, and seems to understand with a wobbly smile. Kurapika returns it, and he moves to lean over Piero and purse his lips to blow a raspberry on his cheek, a tried and true way to make him giggle.
He does, and when Kurapika presses his forehead to his, their eyes reflect each other's: the color of a rose without thorns, of a bitter fruit ripened to sweetness, of kindled embers that warm but don't burn. He grins again, and Piero's little fingers curl against his nose.
There is a brilliant and shining future in Piero's eyes, and it is the color of joy.