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Kurapika knows that they need to feed.
They’ve been neglecting their needs as it is, but that was natural, considering their current circumstances. Though the Kurtas were commonly known to have red eyes, a lesser-known fact was that they were also a self-sustaining, vampiric society. Most of the time, they fed on woodland animals- draining the blood from their catches before butchering the meat into a fresh meal for the small amount of humans and half-breeds that lived amongst them.
However, eventually, the Kurtas do need human blood.
Animal blood can sate a Kurta for quite some time, but there was something about human blood that was extremely nutritious; there were certain components of it that they needed to consume in order to survive, and should they deprive themselves of such nutrition, it was severely detrimental for their health. Thus, once in a while, select Kurtans would venture out into nearby towns and drain blood from multiple citizens in town- not to the point of death, though.
The Kurtas prided themselves on being a non-killing clan of vampires. Though they fed on humans, they did so humanely, and they had rules.
- Don’t take too much blood from a human that it would be life threatening.
- Knock the human out before collecting blood.
- After collecting blood, make sure to place the human in a safe area where they can wake up later.
- Only go out feeding once a month.
The system they had in place was fluid, concise, and didn’t endanger them. Though there were a few cases of people falling unconscious each month, it was spread out enough in the area that the townspeople of the Lukso Province brushed it off as a sickness, or people overworking themselves. The blood was enough to hold their tiny clan over for an entire month if they rationed their reapings correctly, and the humans remained unaware of their existence.
That is, until Kurapika had ventured out as a child and exposed them.
The tragic end of their clan aside, (they’d rather not mull over it at the moment— no, they have other things to worry about), Kurapika then had to learn how to feed from humans on their own. As a child, they took into account the tactics their clan used and applied them to the outside world.
Once a week, they would target a human, knock them out, feed, and then bring them to a safe location to wake up. Rinse and repeat. All other days, animal blood was enough to sate their hunger, and it was a very effective way of living for the 5 years they were on their own.
This current situation, however, is an issue.
Four days.
That was the amount of time they’d gone without eating anything. At first, the hunger pangs were bearable; Kurtas could go a couple days without feeding in dire situations, and their bodies would adjust accordingly. It’s a necessity, given their biology and lifestyle.
Kurapika has been… frugal, in the amount they’ve been feeding within the hunter exam, however.
They hadn’t eaten anything for the three days they ran in the tunnel with Leorio, Gon, and Killua; when they had arrived at the swamp, they’d acted in desperation and had momentarily separated from Leorio to feed from the closest swamp animal they could find. (The blood of those creatures tasted horrendous, but it was still food, nonetheless). When everyone had entered the second test, they had sneakily sucked a fish or two dry of their blood alongside a morsel from those ridiculously large pigs.
Trick Tower, however, had nothing.
No animals. No wildlife. The only source of food they had at their disposal were their friends, and they refuse to treat the people they care about as blood bags. (Tonpa was an option, too, but Kurapika has some standards).
Thus, when they were placed within confinement as they waited out their penalty, Kurapika grew restless.
And then they grew weak and sluggish.
And then, the others noticed.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Kurapika?” Gon had asked, a noticeably worried pout to his lips as he held out a can of juice to his friend. “You’ve barely been eating!”
Feeling queasy at the thought of human food and drink, Kurapika gently pushed the can away with an open palm. “Thank you, but I’m fine. My stomach just hasn’t felt well.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. If it were possible, Kurapika would think that their stomach was turning inside out with hunger. They could eat human food (they have in their time here, actually, if only to quell the others’ concerns), but it provides no nutritional value. It may taste nice, but they might as well be eating hard candies, for all the good it does them.
Popping a lolly out of his mouth, Killua then waved the sucker in Kurapika’s direction. “Liiiiar,” he intoned, drawing out the syllables. “You’re pretty much starving yourself.”
“I’m not.” They are.
From the bathroom, the toilet flushed and the faucet ran, and within moments the creak of the bathroom door rang throughout the room, revealing Leorio crudely adjusting his belt and walking into the room with a yawn. “We talking about Kurapika treating their body like shit?”
Throwing their hands up in the air, Kurapika punched out a sharp sigh. “I’m fine! Worry about yourselves instead of fretting over me. Other than my upset stomach—“ (Ah, hm. That was an unintentional joke if Kurapika ever heard one), “— there’s nothing wrong with me.”
Gon frowned, Leorio muttered something crude under his breath whilst plodding over to the couch, and Killua squinted at them. He scrutinized Kurapika with feline eyes and pursed lips.
Then, the expression dropped, and Killua merely shrugged. “Whatever— just don’t complain when you pass out or something.”
Kurapika scoffed, offended at the accusation. Pass out? They would never let their body get to such a pitiful state.
The very notion of it is ridiculous.
—————
Kurapika may pass out.
It was their last night within their punishment room- their friends all tucked away on couches or on the floor and fast asleep- but they may very well keel over from the pain of hunger before they complete this test. With each passing second, their vision swirled in front of them as they became faint, and their limbs felt like beams of lead nailed to the floor. Each movement was a struggle, as though they were wading through a thick stream of molasses, and they could almost physically imagine what little energy they had leaking from their limp muscles and joints.
Kurapika knows they look a mess right now, too; their skin is paler than usual, (if it could even be any paler), with their usually bright eyes sunken, and bags drooping heavily underneath the lids; their lips were chapped with thirst, bitten sore and tender within their fits of anxiety; they couldn’t even keep their eyes open most of these last few hours, lids heavy, and lashes seemingly weighing a ton. Perhaps, upon first glance, one might assume they had just been freshly wheeled out of a hospital, for how pitiful they appeared.
They can’t go on like this.
But what can they do?
Human food does nothing. There were no animals. They refuse to feed from their friends (or Tonpa. Disgusting). They couldn’t forfeit to get out of this godforsaken tower, either- not when so much is at stake and how far they’ve come.
Not seeing any easy way out, Kurapika gave an airy, barely audible groan, and came to a wobbly stand, bones creaking and breath coming out in harsh puffs. If they couldn’t remedy this situation in any way, then the least they could do is stay in the bathroom so the others didn’t have to see them this way; they were a sorry sight, right now.
Slowly, they inched towards the bathroom, step by feeble step and a hand trailing along the wall as the ground swayed treacherously beneath them. The vertigo of it all made them want to clench their eyes shut in dizziness— perhaps it could have even made them nauseous if they actually had any food in their stomach.
Then, inches from the door, their foot caught the carpet, and they cut off a startled yelp as they toppled to the floor. Kurapika landed with a muffled thud, wincing from the faint noise and the disturbance they may have caused to the others’ slumber.
Cautiously, they glanced over their shoulder at the sleeping forms of Gon and Killua, relieved to find them still sound asleep. If either of those two had awoken, Kurapika wouldn’t have been able to explain away their current state- not with the way they can’t even stand without their head thudding in pain. Luck seems to be on their side however, for once.
“‘My stomach just hurts’ my ass,” a voice grunted. Kurapika felt a lump rise to their throat, whipping their head to the source of the words- a bad idea, if the hiss of pain they left out afterwards was any indication.
There Leorio lay, still sprawled out on one of the couches, but head tilted their way upon his pillow, eyes bright and very much awake. If Kurapika’s heart-rate didn’t strictly remain at a measly 20 beats per minute, it would surely be racing right about now.
“How long have you been awake?” they asked, wincing at the way their voice has been reduced to a mere rasp. Apparently, that was enough for Leorio’s brow to scrunch in concern, and in one swift movement, he pushed off the couch and slowly approached, crouching down next to Kurapika.
Immediately, he attempted to feel Kurapika’s sweat-beaded forehead with the back of his hand, but they swiftly swatted his touch away. Leorio frowned at this, but didn’t push it, instead sighing in annoyance. “I wasn’t asleep in the first place; I’ve been keeping an eye on you rolling around on the ground in pain.”
Ah— that’s not good. Kurapika’s eyes fluttered shut, and though it expended what little precious energy they had left, they pushed theirself up into a kneeling position, leaning heavily against the wall and biting back an exhausted grunt. “I’m not in pain,” they protested. Another lie.
Leorio let out an indignant feh! “Bullshit,” he muttered sourly. Kurapika didn’t have the energy in them to recoil as he leaned in closer, brown eyes roving over their face. “You look like you got run over by a truck. Lemme feel your forehead and see if you’ve got a temperature.”
“I didn’t think you cared,” Kurapika replied, voice reduced to a whisper.
Face scrunching up as if he’d just took a bite out of a lemon, Leorio appeared affronted. “Hey, you’re a brat sometimes, but we’re buddies, you know!” he pressed the back of his hand to Kurapika’s forehead before the other could shoo the touch away. “I’m not just—“ he paused, eyebrows shooting up sky-high as his gaze firmly locked onto where his hand rested.
Leorio opened his mouth and closed it, flabbergasted, and he slowly but gently patted different parts of Kurapika’s face, the skin undoubtedly the chilled and clammy temperature of a cadaver collecting dust. A quiet dread built in Kurapika’s chest, but they were too tired to do anything- too uncaring anymore- to stop Leorio from touching their cold skin.
“Uh,” Leorio stammered, looking at a loss for words. Then, he collected himself, a mask of professional composure falling over his face. “Your body temp, it’s... it’s way too low.” Though he tried to hide it, Kurapika could detect the faint panic underlying Leorio’s seemingly calm tone- matching the same hysteria the other felt- and they slowly raised an arm to grasp at the hand Leorio still patted around their face. Leorio paused- focused on the cold clamminess of Kurapika’s skin- before he carefully shifted a returned grip, his thumb pressing firmly onto the pulse point of the other’s wrist.
Leorio waited, and waited; with each passing moment of no heartbeat from Kurapika, his eyes grew wider and wider, absolutely astonished at the sluggishness of their pulse. “Shit,” Leorio hissed. “We gotta-- we gotta get you to a hospital or something.” He went to stand, but Kurapika tightened their grip, mustering whatever strength they had left to send the other a glare.
“You will do no such thing, Leorio,” they grit out, voice grainy but still firm in resolve. Then, they sagged, knocking the back of their head against the wall. “I promise you that I’m not dying; bring me to the bathroom, and I’ll explain.”
Somehow, Leorio lacked the tact to not crack a joke. “What, you gotta take a leak?” The humor was an obvious but horribly failed attempt to lighten the mood and hide his growing hysteria. Kurapika simultaneously appreciated it whilst also detesting it.
“I can’t let the others hear what I’m going to tell you. It’s private, and could put me in danger— but, I have no choice.” Kurapika’s options were to either fill Leorio in on their condition, or to have the other cart him to a hospital and have the entire hunter world discover the truth of their race. Frankly, they much preferred the former option.
Leorio glanced to the two sleeping children on the other couch, but blessedly said nothing when his gaze returned to Kurapika. He nodded once, and then carefully hoisted the other into his arms, muttering something under his breath about how little Kurapika weighed.
He was warm, however- Leorio, that is. Kurapika never let anyone make contact with their cold skin, and thus they often forget how hot humans run in comparison to theirself. It’s a reminder of all the fresh blood that runs smoothly beneath mortal skin, just a prick away from being released into outside air and a vampire’s awaiting lips.
Kurapika shuddered, partially excited at the thought, but mostly disgusted for imagining such a thing when their friend is helping them. No, they told theirself, limp in Leorio’s arms as the door to the bathroom opened and then closed behind them. I can’t think about such a thing. Never. These are my friends, and I won’t treat them like free meals, even if it’s just a passing, involuntary thought.
The world lurched as Kurapika was deposited onto the bathroom floor, and they groaned, head lolling upon their shoulder and stomach clenching in hunger whilst Leorio once again kneeled in front of them. Though Kurapika’s vision was blurry at best, they could still see the concern etched onto the other’s face- an expression not often seen on Leorio.
Though they hesitated for a moment, Kurapika ultimately decided that ripping off the bandage was the best way to handle this situation. Beating around the bush would only cause their friend more anxiety with each unnecessary word. No matter the manner in which Leorio would respond, it was an explanation that can now no longer be avoided.
With no other preamble, Kurapika took the plunge. “The Kurta Clan was special for two reasons, not simply for our scarlet eyes.” They explained, voice much weaker and weary than they would have preferred. “Our scarlet eyes were the asset of us that the public simply knew about, whilst the other reason for our uniqueness remained obscure and unknown, my ancestors taking it to their graves. It’s a well-guarded secret we’ve kept for centuries that ensured our safety, and a way of life that we couldn’t completely control. However, we did our best to not harm others, live in complete peace, and remain hidden from the outside world.”
Leorio pursed his lips. “Okay, I got it, but can you get to the point so I know what the hell’s going on with you?” He muttered something under his breath that included the phrase ‘freaking out,’ and Kurapika couldn’t fault him for his impatience.
Kurapika sagged further into the bathroom wall, giving a sharp sigh. “Do you believe in vampires, Leorio?” Despite the trepidation they felt, their voice was as strong and sure as it could be in their current state, bouncing upon the bathroom walls and reverberating against the two’s attuned ears.
There was a beat of silence.
For a moment, Leorio said nothing- stunned into shock- before his expression turned stern and annoyed. “Don’t screw around, Kurapika. This is serious.”
Kurapika resisted the urge to sigh again, knowing that their friend’s reaction was completely natural and expected. Vampires are thought to be extinct, after all- eradicated in ancient times and now believed to be a mere myth, despite the fantastical world they lived in.
Though, they supposed that as soon as they theirself die, they truly will be extinct.
A demonstration is required, then. Seeing is believing, after all. Showing physical proof is the best way Kurapika can get their point across.
When was the last time they showed their fangs to someone else, though? Within the deep recesses of their fuzzy memories, they blearily remember Pairo and theirself laughing and playfully poking at each other’s teeth, but there are no other cases, as far as they know. It’s not as though they can walk around showcasing their vampiric characteristics; they’d be impaled on the spot.
Regardless, Kurapika slowly opened their mouth, and with a short pause, sighed as their retracting fangs unsheathed within a millisecond from the pockets inside their gums- a noiseless action, contrary to the infamous shing! of flashing teeth often seen in movies.
For a moment, Leorio stared, seemingly uncomprehending, and perhaps even intrigued. Perhaps it was the fact that the other was a doctor and he was trying to come up with a logical explanation for the display in front of him, filing through the extensive list of medical conditions he could have had stored in his skull.
Then, his brain seemingly caught up to him, and with a surprised squawk, Leorio toppled backwards onto his ass and skittered backwards across the room, face gone ashy in what Kurapika couldn’t discern as either shock or terror.
“YOU’RE—!?“ He paused, and hesitated with a quick glance to the door and then back at the other, no doubt taking into account their sleeping friends just outside the door. His voice lowered to frantic whisper. “You’re a fucking vampire!?” His body was pressed up against the porcelain outside of the bathtub, palms splayed flat across the surface as though he were trying and failing to retreat into the solid object.
Kurapika was afraid of this reaction, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise. “Yes, I’m a ‘fucking vampire,’ and before you ask, no, I’ve never once thought about ‘eating’ you, and I don’t plan on it. We’re not ravenous animals.” Contrary to human mythos, vampires didn’t go into frenzied and uncontrollable states when they were hungry. It was essentially the same as human hunger— they became uncomfortable, weaker, etc, but they didn’t lose common sense and viciously attack the nearest consumable organism.
Vampires- especially the Kurtas- have self-control.
“I would rather die than feed from you, Gon, or Killua.” They added this with a barely-audible whisper.
There was a beat of silence, and Kurapika glanced up (when had their gaze drifted?)- perhaps a bit too quickly, if their blurred vision was any indication- to be met with Leorio’s careful gaze. He still looked apprehensive- pointedly sitting as far away from Kurapika as he could- but was noticeably calmer. Perhaps it was because of Kurapika’s weakened state, or perhaps he’s now realized that Kurapika is still Kurapika .
Still, he was weary, and he hesitated before his next inquiry. “You do eat humans, though,” he asked, more of a statement than a question.
Kurapika sighed, but pushed down the irritation they felt; it was a blessing as it was that Leorio didn’t immediately try to drive a stake through their heart. “‘Eat’ is a crude word; my clan never killed humans, and I certainly don’t, either. We do need to feed from humans occasionally, but I never take any more blood than what’s necessary, and I make sure the unconscious human wakes up in a safe place afterwards, too.” They pursed their lips, letting their head loll upon their shoulders as a bead of cold sweat trickled down their temple. “Before you ask, I haven’t fed on anyone since the hunter exam started, either. It’d put the other examinees in too much danger.”
Slowly, Leorio’s posture relaxed, and he leaned more casually against the bathtub. There was still a perplexed scrunch to his brow, but he was no longer acting as though Kurapika would latch onto his neck at any given moment, so it was an improvement. “So, you haven’t bitten anyone since the exam started? It’s been like, two weeks, though.”
“I’ve been drinking from animals when alone,” they pointed out, before Leorio could even finish his thought.
Leorio squinted, appearing mildly suspicious. “Wait, so if you can eat animals, why do you gotta feed on humans?”
Ah. Kurapika let their eyes flutter shut, trying to remain conscious during this conversation despite their vertigo and exhaustion. Shaking theirself, they blinked harshly a few times to clear the fog from their head. “Human blood… has certain nutrients we need to survive,” they elaborated, drowsily. “We can go around two to three weeks without human nutrients, and approximately four days without any blood at all- human or animal.”
A beat of silence. Kurapika heard the shuffling of Leorio’s suit grow closer. “And what happens if you don’t get enough blood, Kurapika?” His voice sounded oddly accusational in tone.
For some odd reason, they feel as though they’ve done something horribly wrong and idiotic.
“We grow weak,” they replied, licking their chapped lips. “At first, it’s just simple hunger and discomfort, but if we go for too long without blood, our bodies grow more and more fragile until we’re immobilized from fatigue and famine, and then we die. Not unlike a human, really.”
“Bastard,” Leorio suddenly growled. Kurapika twitched, and when their eyes slid back open, Leorio was knelt right in front of them, eyes burning furiously and mouth set into a snarl. “You have been starving yourself!”
Kurapika gave a slow, bleary blink, letting the other’s words register in their mind. “Not intentionally,” they corrected, voice slightly slurring. “It’s this tower— I was able to get food in the swamp to hold me over for a few days, but there’s nothing at my disposal in here except for you guys, and... I don’t want to do that to you- to my friends.”
“So, what? You’re just gonna sit here and suffer for another day until we can get outta here?” For some odd reason, Leorio looked furious. “That’s bullshit, Kurapika. You should’ve told us.”
If they weren’t so exhausted, Kurapika would have laughed in Leorio’s face. “Yes, because you reacted to my vampirism very well.”
Leorio gave a guilty wince in response, averting his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, yeah— I freaked out a little, but can you blame me?” He muttered, eyes darting around, searching for a place other than Kurapika’s face to rest. “I thought vampires were a myth, but you’re one, and--” he shook his head, looking conflicted as he stared resolutely at the bathroom floor.
Then, his uncertainty dissipated, and he straightened, eyes adopting a determined steadiness as he locked gazes with Kurapika. “Honestly, I’m still kind of freaking out,” he said, voice a bit uncertain, “but... you’re literally starving yourself to death! And I think that takes priority.” He steeled himself, and then pointedly, he jabbed a thumb into his chest. “Let me help!”
Giving a slow, heavy blink, Kurapika sluggishly shook their head. “I appreciate it, Leorio, but there’s no way to help me until we all get out of this tower.”
If Kurapika wasn’t delirious at the moment, they would have been absolutely certain they could hear Leorio’s teeth grind in frustration. “Yeah, if you’re not dead by then.”
A deep frown pulled at Kurapika’s lips. “I’m not at that point yet. Perhaps I will be in two or three days, but no, I’m not dying at the moment.” And that was the truth. Yes, Kurapika was currently suffering rather badly right now, but they wouldn’t let theirself die out of sheer stubbornness alone… Probably.
Leorio scowled at them. “But you are in pain and feel like you’re gonna pass out at any second.”
Their response was to avert their hazy eyes to the floor, to which Leorio gave a small tsk. “How much does a vampire bite hurt?” He then asked.
Kurapika glanced back up at him sharply, already knowing the direction this was going. “No,” they grit firmly, although the stern tone they forced out pained their parched throat.
Ever the stubborn jerk, however, Leorio merely crossed his arms defiantly, using his height to tower over Kurapika’s slouched over form, even whilst sitting. “Doesn’t answer my question. How much does it hurt? Does it feel like a shot? Like you’re being stabbed? Like nothing?”
“I am not feeding from you, Leorio,” Kurapika growled, attempting to muster as much intimidation into their voice as they could despite the fogginess in their head; it came out as a harsh rasp, but it still sent their message across.
Leorio flippantly waved a limp hand, dismissive towards Kurapika’s insistence. “Yeah, yeah- you’ve got your fancy morals and stuff, but those morals don’t mean shit if you’re too weak to even walk properly.” His eyes hardened, and he poked a finger against Kurapika’s forehead repeatedly and firmly, the latter’s face scrunching with each tap. “If you can’t function properly now, then how do you expect to make it out of this tower with us, huh? Crawling? Having Gon lug you to the finish line?”
Momentarily blanching at the mental image, Kurapika settled their expression into a defiant glare. “I’ll manage.”
“Maybe,” Leorio sniffed, “but you will be suffering the entire time, and I don’t wanna see you go through that shit. If I’m the one offering, I don’t see the big deal in you drinking my blood.”
“The big deal—!” Kurapika began, voice raising louder than they should probably have let it, “— is that it’s dehumanizing! You, Gon, and Killua are not a food source for me. You’re not random woodland creatures or strangers in the city I knock out cold. You’re my companions, and I don’t intend to use you for my own benefit!!”
Leorio’s brows furrowed, and for a moment, he was quiet, crossing his arms in thought. As they waited for a response, Kurapika’s head swam and their limbs shook from the energy of yelling. What was so hard for Leorio to grasp about this situation? About not wanting to treat their friends in such a way? Did he not understand? Or was he being willfully ignorant?
Then, after a moment of pause, Leorio’s eyes sharpened.
“What if it was Gon?” he asked, voice a firm rumble.
Kurapika stared at him as though he had grown another head.
“If Gon was the vampire, and he was on death’s damn doorstep refusing to drink any blood,” he elaborated slowly, sensing Kurapika’s confusion, “would you let him bite you?”
They both already knew the answer to this, and the hurt that flashed through Kurapika’s eyes as well as the conflict wrinkling their face was very telling. “That’s different,” they still tried to weakly volley back.
Giving an exasperated, drawn out sigh, Leorio shook his head in dismay. “Sure it is,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words. Then, his eyes locking with theirs, he leaned forward slightly, bringing his eyes to their level. “Listen, Kurapika,” his voice was markedly softer- placating and logical, “all of us hate seeing you like this. Just let one of us help.”
Kurapika wrinkled their nose. “I don’t want any charity.”
Sputtering, Leorio appeared absolutely befuddled. “Charity--!? Do you really think I’d do anything I don’t want to?”
Unbidden, an amused huff escaped their lips after a moment of pause. “That would be akin to pulling teeth— of course not.” Leorio glowered at them and turned up his nose petulantly, but he seemed satisfied nonetheless.
However, he dropped the act, and sighed. “Then you know I’m not forcing myself to do anything out of pity, right?” Emboldened, he clasped a heavy, but firm and solid hand onto Kurapika’s shoulder, earning him a startled twitch. Their eyes darted to his touch, then to his neck, before shaking their head and meeting his eyes once more.
They decidedly ignored how their mouth was salivating- what they didn’t know was nausea induced hunger, or hunger itself.
“I could seriously hurt you,” they tried once more, their resolve quickly thinning the more and more Leorio insisted. “Feeding a starved vampire- surely you must know the risks, or are you that dense?”
Leorio squawked, scowling back at them. “You’re a brat even when you’re starving. First of all, you wish you could kill me; I’m too handsome to kick the bucket. This face was crafted by the gods themselves, you know!!”
Kurapika blankly stared back, and Leorio made a decidedly aggravated noise that could be easily interpreted as inhuman. “Don’t stare at me like I’m not making any sense! You know damn well I’m attractive!” He growled.
“Your point, Leorio.”
“You little--!!“ Pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, Leorio gave a frustrated sigh. “Anyways, second of all, you’ve got a temper sometimes, and you’re a sassy little shit, but you’ve got self-control. Didn’t you say something about the Kurtas not being ‘ravenous animals’? Why’re you suddenly changing your story, huh?” Pursing his lips, Leorio retracted his hand and crossed his arms in indignation. “If you were really that susceptible to your… Vampire extincts- or whatever you wanna call it- you would’ve bitten one of us by now.”
Against their better judgement, a tired smile twitched at Kurapika’s lips, perhaps looking all the more pathetic due to the bags that no doubt sagged beneath their eyes. “I must admit,” they murmured, “it’s a bit surprising to see you of all people using facts and logic. Perhaps I’ve begun hallucinating from hunger.” It was a painfully obvious jab to try and divert Leorio’s attention, but Kurapika was beginning to grow a bit desperate the more the other continued to refute their protests.
Surprisingly enough though, Leorio didn’t take the bait. His expression was still stern and firm, strong brow scrunched into a furrow. “Stop changing the subject, Kurapika.”
A complete failure at distraction, then. They don’t like it one bit, but they may as well admit defeat. Both them and Leorio were infuriatingly stubborn, but Leorio may just have them beat in that particular department, at least when it comes to helping the people he cares about.
Finally relenting, Kurapika averted their eyes to the floor, uncharacteristic in contrast to their usual quiet confidence. “The humans in our clan describe it as feeling like two needles driven into your skin- a bit painful, obviously.” They saw Leorio grimace at this description from the corner of their vision- rubbing his neck whilst no doubt imagining the sensation- but Kurapika continued nonetheless. “However,” they said, “our fangs secrete a numbing agent that quickly nullifies the pain. On top of that, our saliva has a healing agent, and can close small wounds. Thus, not only will the bite only hurt for a mere moment, but the puncture wounds left behind can immediately be sealed.”
Leorio blinked, and leaned forward in interest. “Healing and numbing agents? Really?” Kurapika noticed the intrigued sparkle in his eye, and a bit of fondness raised the corners of their lips into a weary smile.
“Interested because you’re a doctor, are you?” They asked, coy.
An embarrassed blush colored Leorio’s cheeks and he waved his hand dismissively. “Cut that out. I’m no doctor yet— not even close,” he mumbled. It was an odd trait of his, but one that Kurapika rather liked: despite his posturing and constant yelling, Leorio was humble at heart. He rubbed the back of his neck, the red of his face marginally subsiding. “Yeah, though— I’m interested. That could help a lot of people, you know?”
Then, Leorio frowned, reaching forward to brush aside Kurapika’s bangs in an oddly intimate gesture. “Forget that for now, though. You need to eat something.”
Kurapika’s eyes fluttered, heaving a sigh as their vision swam in a painful reminder of their current predicament. “I know you’ll keep insisting until I give in.”
“Damn right I will.”
They would laugh at that if they had the energy, but talking at such length has considerably tired them out. Instead, they let their weary smile linger, a tinge of bitterness teasing at the expression. “With that said, I’ll admit defeat. If you’re truly okay with it, and you can promise me that this won’t affect our friendship in any way, then I’ll accept your offer on one condition.”
Leorio rested his chin in his hands, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Lay it on me.”
Still so casual in such a dire situation. Kurapika gave a slow, exhausted blink before continuing. “You can’t... let me drink too much from you; if you start feeling dizzy or uncomfortable at any point- besides the initial pain from the bite- tap my arm. If I don’t respond and keep drinking, throw me off of you. I don’t believe it will come to that point, but I don’t want to hurt you in any way, shape, or form.”
“Sounds good to me,” Leorio immediately responded. With absolutely no hesitation, he undid the top buttons of his white, collared shirt, pushing aside the fabric to better expose his neck. Kurapika’s mouth watered at the sight, and then immediately became disgusted at theirself with their fixation on his supple, delicate skin, and the strong chords of his neck. They don’t see Leorio as food- never- but it’s been so long since they’ve eaten anything.
“I need some help,” they admitted, struggling to properly sit up. Their limbs shook pathetically, cold sweat beading at their forehead. Leorio’s eyes flashed in sympathy, and he immediately leaned forward to rest a hand on Kurapika’s back, supporting their weak body with a surprising amount of gentleness. Slowly, he helped Kurapika settle into a comfortable kneeling position; though slouched whilst their hands bunched into Leorio’s shirt to abide the tremoring of their fingers, they were stable.
There was a problem, though.
Kurapika frowned, feeling their cheeks warm. “You’re too tall,” they said matter-of-factly. They were fully aware that they only reached Leorio’s chest in height, but it never bothered them before— it never mattered. Now, in this context, however, was it an actual issue.
Pursing his lips, Leorio seemed to think for a moment- gaze downcast to his lap as he mulled over this issue- before his eyes widened and he sputtered, coughing into his fist and decidedly not looking at Kurapika.
“What?” They asked, confused at his sudden outburst.
“Uh,” he said, eloquently. His ears and the back of his neck were steadily flushing red. “So, you’re too weak to… stand up while you bite me , so me sitting while you stand is out, but. Uh. I’m too tall when we’re both sitting. So…” Kurapika raised an eyebrow, and Leorio poked his index fingers together like a blushing schoolgirl. “It’s kind of. You know. It’s not weird or anything unless one of us… makes it.”
“Like you are, right now.” Kurapika interjected.
Leorio scowled. “Shut it! Just--!” He patted his thigh forcefully with one hand. “SIT ON MY LAP, YOU BASTARD!!” He shouted, far too loud.
Silence.
Kurapika stared at him, and Leorio stared back. His face was akin to someone who had just eaten an entire lemon, scrunched up as though the words he spat out caused him physical pain.
“If Gon and Killua woke up to hear you say that of all things, with absolutely no context,” Kurapika said slowly- deliberately, “I will quite literally never forgive you.”
Leorio made a noise that was what could only be described as a chicken being tossed into a wood chipper, before crossing his arms like the absolute child he was. “Sure— fine! Whatever keeps you from starving to death!” He huffed, and then gently nudged Kurapika to settle upon his thighs, resting a hand on the back of their head to guide their lips to his neck. Throughout this entire motion, his gaze was pointedly turned away.
His ears were flushed an embarrassed red.
Parting their lips, Kurapika’s breath fanned across the other’s neck as they located a safe yet optimal place to bite. Weakly, they gripped at the sleeve of Leorio’s white button-up, fingers twining in the starchy fabric.
“Try not to move around too much,” they rasped, mind fogging with hunger. Their lips brushed against his neck with each syllable. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than necessary.”
Leorio let out a sharp sigh. “Just make it quick.”
Shakily, Kurapika nodded, and with a moment of pause and a slight graze of their teeth against Leorio’s goose-pimpled skin, they sunk their fangs into his supple vein.
Immediately, Leorio stiffened and quietly swore, but Kurapika paid no attention; they were too busy trying not to groan in relief as the blood spilling into their mouth quenched the unbearable dryness of their mouth they had endured. It lapped over their tongue in a steady stream, and they shivered as they salivated and swallowed down their first gulp. It went down smoothly, like a fine syrupy wine that they could easily get drunk off of.
Mentally shaking theirself, they reminded their psyche once more that they must be careful; they cannot hurt their friend in this process.
However, perhaps it was just the fact that Kurapika was famished, but Leorio’s blood was heavenly. Of course, blood tasted like blood, but all blood was still different nonetheless; some blood was greasy, some was salty, and others tasted very crisp and refreshing. Leorio’s fell under the last category, possibly because- as a doctor- he took very good care of himself, his fitness, and his diet.
Whatever the reasoning, Kurapika certainly appreciated it as they gulped down two more mouthfuls. Distantly, they made sure to keep an eye on the other’s body language, carefully looking for any signs of intense pain or discomfort. If they saw too much for their liking, they would immediately cease their meal, for Leorio’s sake.
Much to their relief, however, Leorio’s shoulders relaxed; the death grip that had fisted in Kurapika’s locks on instinct had relaxed, and he gently smoothed out the mess he had made of the other’s hair. His hand had a slight tremble to it, but otherwise, he was fine, and the small motions cleared Kurapika’s mind of a fair amount of anxiety. Leorio is fine, they told theirself, sucking languidly at his neck. He trusts you. You trust him. You’ll both be fine.
“Go slow,” Leorio said, voice even and steady. “Not just ‘cause of me; if you eat too fast, you can make yourself sick.”
Kurapika hummed in acknowledgement, and Leorio tensed for a brief moment at the feeling of their lips vibrating against his skin. Slowly, deliberately, they smoothed out the rumpled fabric of Leorio’s shirt, and took another gulp, indulging in the sweet relief it brought their fatigued limbs and famished stomach. It would be an exaggeration to say they felt fully rejuvenated, but they no longer felt as though they were about to black out, so it was a definite improvement.
Perhaps, if they continued to show caution, Leorio would be willing to offer such a service once more.
… No. They frowned against the skin of his neck. This cannot be a repeated event; they would not take advantage of Leorio’s kindness. They can’t make a ritual out of treating their friend like some type of blood donor. Not only would such a thing be a blow to their pride as a Kurta, but Leorio doesn’t deserve such treatment, no matter how charitable he may be.
With one final noise of contentment, they carefully took two more gulps- slower this time- before gingerly retracting their fangs with a sigh of relief. The puncture wounds oozed a bit, and Leorio cringed at the spillage that dripped down into the dip of his collarbone. Humming, Kurapika laved their tongue over the small marks, and within seconds, the blood stemmed and clotted.
Leorio, though, yelped, and pulled back slightly to smack his palm against his neck. “Did you just lick me!?”
Kurapika gaped at him, flabbergasted, and now much more energetic and in the mood to argue. “You idiot,” they sighed, crossing their arms. Distantly, they noted that they were still seated snugly on their friend’s lap. “I told you: our saliva has healing properties, specifically clotting and regeneration.” They paused, bringing a hand to their chin. “I did forget to mention the latter part, though. Still, would you rather I have spat on you?”
Sputtering, the other’s face flared crimson. “Hell no! Honestly, just warn a guy next time.” He muttered the last part, glancing away for a moment, only for his eyes to trail back and rest on Kurapika’s mouth.
He swallowed.
“Uh,” Leorio said, looking a mix of embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable. “You’ve got a little…” He trailed off, but motioned to the corner of his own mouth.
Confused, they touched the spot of their mouth directed, and their fingers came back wet, sticky, and red, the dark wine stark in color against their pale skin.
Right. They were probably a bit messy with this bite, weren’t they? They couldn’t blame Leorio for being a bit aghast at seeing his own blood decorating his friend’s lips- it must be quite jarring. It would be best to do something about it.
Promptly, Kurapika wiped a thumb at the corner of their mouth, and studied the blood they scooped up for a moment before popping it into their mouth. They released a pleased hum at the taste.
Leorio made an aborted noise. “Hey!”
They slipped their thumb from their mouth with a loud pop. “What?” they replied innocently. Casually, they slid off the other’s lap to once again rest against the bathroom wall with a sigh. They already felt a bit better; for the most part, their headache has subsided as well as the vertigo, and they aforementionedly no longer felt as though they would black out at any given moment. Still, they don’t trust their body to immediately run a marathon or anything of the such, so it would be best to remain seated.
Sputtering once more, Leorio raised his index finger pointedly in the air- no doubt about to spew something ridiculous and nonsensical- before sighing sharply; he dropped his hand to instead scratch at the back of his head. “I’ll have to get used to this,” he grumbled.
Kurapika grimaced, and they let their gaze drop to the floor. “To be fair, you’re taking it rather well.” Really, they’re surprised; they expected Leorio to be much more dramatic about their vampirism.
Well, he was dramatic about it, but that’s a given, all things considered. However, he still immediately accepted it as soon as his moment of shock had passed, and he readily listened to what Kurapika had to say.
Above all else, Leorio was kind. That was an indisputable fact.
“I guess,” he huffed. Shuffling forward on his knees, (a bit of a humorous image, given his height and build), he settled down next to Kurapika, both of them staring at the empty air.
“I really am grateful, though,” Kurapika said quietly, after a moment of pause. “I’m very… Hesitant to accept help from others.”
Leorio snorted. “No kidding. You were about to let yourself starve to death before asking for help. Stubborn bastard.” He tapped his fingers rhythmically against his knee, an unfamiliar but catchy beat that flitted against Kurapika’s ears. Then, his flow stuttered, and he hunched over, bashful. “It’s not a big deal, though. I only helped you out ‘cause we need you to win!!”
This time, it was Kurapika’s turn to make a noise of affront, scoffing in disbelief. What a blatant lie. “Yes, I’m sure that was your reasoning,” they said, deadpan. Always posturing and pretending he doesn’t care- Leorio’s reasons for painting himself as a greedy bastard was far beyond Kurapika’s understanding.
“Damn right it was! Just helping out my teammate- my teammate who… happens to be a vampire.” He paused, and then groaned, smacking a hand atop his face. “God, you’re a vampire.”
A smile curled at Kurapika’s lips, swirling their tongue in their mouth and savoring in the aftertaste of blood left behind. “I believe we’ve established this.”
“You do know you’ll probably have to explain this to Gon and Killua tomorrow, right?” He then said, pointedly peeking at them from between his fingers.
Kurapika’s face fell. “Why?” If possible, Kurapika wanted to keep this incident and the truth of their race solely between them and Leorio. If Gon and Killua were added to the mix, it would only become more complicated.
Leorio looked very unimpressed, and quite frankly, it was insulting. “Those brats have the ears of an elephant. You think they didn’t hear any of that?”
Ah. Right. That… may have slipped Kurapika’s mind, what with their previous fatigue and their haze of hunger. “... You have a point, unfortunately,” they admitted. Don’t be fooled, Kurapika knew both of them would be accepting, especially Gon. Gon could befriend the Devil himself if it came down to that, and he would probably find Kurapika’s vampirism cool rather than alarming. As for Killua, he was an assassin; he’s most likely run into more fantastical happenstances.
Still, Kurapika considered theirself a private person. This is only one more vulnerability they must share with others against their will, and it was incredibly vexing.
“Hey.” Leorio gently bumped his knee against Kurapika’s, coaxing them out of their thoughts. “Don’t be an idiot and overthink it. You know they’ll take it well; they’re a couple of kids- one a weirdo raised in the woods, and the other a literal assassin. They won’t bat a damn eye at you being a vampire.”
Something tight but not unpleasant squeezed in Kurapika’s chest, and slowly, they turned their head to meet Leorio’s gaze. His eyes were earnest, trusting, and grounding in a way Kurapika never knew they could experience once more.
“When it counts, you always know what to say, Leorio,” they said softly in reply.
He grinned, and did not look away even though the slightest blush teased at his cheeks. “All of us have got your back, alright?” He punctuated this by patting his hand upon their head, ruffling their blonde locks affectionately.
Kurapika gazed up at him through their bangs, a soft smile gracing their lips.
“Okay.”