"Are any of us actually going to write that paper?" asked Illumi. Hisoka drummed his fingers on the table.

Everyone's head swiveled to Leorio. His jaw fell open. "Why me?"

"Because we'd all say the same thing," replied Kurapika. "Though, I can do it, I—"

"Nah," said Leorio. "I'll do it." He squeezed Kurapika's shoulder.

Kurapika hesitated, and then got back up. "I'll be back."

Hisoka thought about taunting Kurapika since he had a pretty good idea where he was going, but he clamped his mouth shut. His teeth ground into each other.

You want to pretend you'll enjoy something in life before you die. Hisoka scowled. He enjoyed plenty in life. Like the blond girl, or like the man with the largest appendage he'd ever seen. Hisoka hopped to his feet.

"Where are you off to now?" Illumi called.

"Returning Lucilfer's books," Hisoka called, gesturing to the books still strewn across his desk. The taste of Bungee Gum was long gone, but he still chewed it, like he did as a kid. It reminded him he had something in his mouth, his stomach had options, he didn't need taste to imagine it. He grabbed the books and stalked off towards the shelves. He put Les Miserables by Hugo with the D's, Silence by Endo with the Z's, and The Prince by Machiavelli with the Qs. There. A librarian wouldn't have a boring day… some day. Whenever they realized the mix-up.

"Satisfied?" asked Illumi's voice behind him. "Created enough chaos for today?"

Hisoka blinked. It was hella hard to startle him. Well done, Illumi. He turned, slouching against the bookshelves. "Here to return them to order?" He winked.

"No," said Illumi. "I'll let you have your fun."

"Oh, thank you, Your Highness."

"You're welcome."

Illumi didn't seem to react to the sarcasm. Hisoka snorted. "Daddy coming to pick you up?"

"Business trip," Illumi reminded him. "I imagine my grandfather will come. And you?"

"I'll walk… somewhere. A bar, maybe. Find someone to have sex with. And you'll go home and beg your brother to pay you some attention, but he won't care because you're just like your parents to him, treating him like a tool and completely oblivious that he's not the cure for your own loneliness."

"What is the cure, then?" Illumi demanded. His chest heaved. "Going out and getting laid by a stranger?"

Hisoka smirked. He ran his fingers across the wooden shelves. Dust coated the tips. "What makes you assume I'm not the one doing the laying?"

Illumi put his hands on his hips. "I don't really care about your positional preferences."

"Shame." Hisoka tugged at Illumi's hair. "Tell me, then why are you over here except to explore that? Or are you just desperate to talk to someone who doesn't look at you like you're a failure compared to Killua? Because maybe I will flirt with Killua—he's a freshman, a little young, but he's clearly better looking and smarter than you—"

Illumi's eyes sparked. His fist shot out.

Finally, Hisoka thought as Illumi's knuckles smashed into his cheekbone. Blood spurted from his nose. He slung his arms towards Illumi. Illumi jabbed him in the back of the knees. With his foot. Hisoka stumbled. And that was all it took for His head to smash into the bookshelf, two books crashing onto his neck.

Illumi flipped him around. He sat on Hisoka's midsection, hands pressing into Hisoka's shoulder, pinning him down.

"Jealous older brother much?" Hisoka croaked.

"You weren't fighting to your full strength," Illumi accused. His hair fell around his face, a silken onyx curtain.

"I was kinda surprised," Hisoka managed. He spat droplets of blood.

"You could come home with me," Illumi said. "Instead of going to some stranger's bed."

"Huh?" Hisoka's eyes popped.

"That was your aim, wasn't it?" Illumi asked. "Don't worry, I've no interest in your seduction technique."

"Says the man sitting on top of my crotch like he's riding me when he's already got a boner," Hisoka said.

Illumi's face burned.

"To be fair then," panted Hisoka. "You are someone I targeted, right? Not some random—"

"Do you have to phrase it like that?" Illumi cussed. "I noticed you. And you noticed me."

"Huh?" Hisoka blinked.

"You didn't have to do all of this," said Illumi. "You could have just asked."

"Are you going to start making sense sometime soon or are you just going to—"

"You never make sense," Illumi said, staring. His eyes were dark and huge. And then he leaned down.

Hisoka opened his mouth instinctively, but Illumi paused about a centimeter from his lips, studying him. "Oh, for real?" Hisoka complained.

Illumi dove down, pressing his lips against his. Hisoka arched up, opening Illumi's mouth with his. He reached up, digging his hands through Illumi's hair which fell like satin against his fingers. Illumi's teeth clacked against his, like a desperate man.

"You're so goddamn lonely," Hisoka eked out. "It's almost pathetic." And you're bleeding, just like me. He wrapped Illumi's hair around his palm. It felt soft.

"You're so desperate for acknowledgement that you're here," Illumi retorted, pulling back, lips shining and swollen. "So—"

"I don't actually like Killua," said Hisoka. "That was just a comment to piss you off."

Illumi tilted his head back.

"I like you, dimwit," snapped Hisoka. God, why was he making him say it?

"If I hadn't offered to take you home with me—"

"I would fuck you right here and right now, without any place to stay," Hisoka said. "Because you're—interesting."

"Do you have any other way to show affection?" Illumi complained.

"There is another way?"

Illumi rolled his eyes. He sat back, cross-legged.

"I'd talk to you," said Hisoka. "Any time. And tell off your parents."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like how they treat you. You're strong and yet you pretend you're not, around them."

Illumi tilted his head back, hair cascading down his back. "I'm strongest around them. I think."

"You're honest when you're not around them."

"Says a liar." Illumi swallowed.

Hisoka sat up. "Can I try something?"

Illumi glanced back towards where the desks were.

"Not sex," said Hisoka. "Just—something sexy."

Illumi nodded.

Hisoka leaned in, but instead of taking Illumi's lips, he focused on his neck, that marble pillar cloaked in black curtains. His teeth nipped at the soft skin. He took Illumi's skin in his mouth. Illumi's chest rose and fell in pants. He laced his arms around Hisoka.

"We should probably go back," Illumi managed when Hisoka finally drew back.

Hisoka nodded. He grabbed Illumi's hair, tossing it in front of the maroon bruise. "By the way," he said.

"Yeah?" Illumi looked back at him, getting to his feet.

"I noticed you too, is all," Hisoka said, climbing up. He tossed the books that had fallen back onto a random shelf. "Your family is made of idiots. Well, your parents. Killua seems cool, though again, calm down, not like that."

Illumi blinked.

"You don't deserve this," Hisoka translated, yanking up Illumi's sleeve and tapping the three round bruises he saw there, as if someone had grabbed Illumi too hard a day or two ago. But you need to believe it's all for your good. To make it, don't you? Because you're afraid your can't do it on your own. You're weak.

What if you had someone else to remind you?

"You shouldn't be sleeping with random people who are taking advantage of you," Illumi responded. "If you want to feel or be safe or have fun, call me instead."

Hisoka had no idea what it was like to be alive except to be hurt and to hurt.

You're the same.

He also had no idea what it was like to be alive and not be lonely.

"You can stay the night," Illumi said. "In our guest room. They'll behave, if you're there. My grandfather can help you. He's nice. He doesn't hit me. Or any of us."

"But he doesn't help you," Hisoka pointed out. You'd really let me stay for no cost? Does that mean you kissed me because you just wanted to? Because I'm me?

Why would you? Don't pity me.

"You do," Illumi said. "You're strong. You can still laugh."

Strong.

And I don't have to prove it?

He leaned his head down, resting it on Illumi's shoulder, breathing in the scent of his too-expensive cologne. Illumi wrapped his arms around him.

Maybe, right now, I can be weak. Maybe strength and weakness were not two opposites like he'd assumed, but yin and yang, pulling and filling each other.

And you. I'll get you out of there. Somehow. The two of us together... we're strong.

Kurapika slipped through the hallway, pausing outside the door to the closet. He raised his fist as if to knock. Wait, what am I doing? What would be the point in that, besides alerting the human ant of a vice principal?

He shoved the door open to find Chrollo rummaging through the drawers of a random dresser stores in there. Kurapika's eyebrows shot up. "Stealing anything interesting?"

"Mostly just old letters and bank statements," Chrollo responded, pulling back. He rested his arm on his knee. "Surprised to see you here."

"No, you aren't. Don't lie. You're hard to surprise." Kurapika shut the door behind him. His heart pounded. His palms felt slick with sweat. He tilted his head back, blond hair falling over his shoulder.

"You're not wearing the second one," Chrollo pointed out, gesturing. "I mean. Your earring."

Kurapika tugged at the earring in his ear. "Why did you take it, if you knew?"

"I'm a malicious bastard, remember? The devil to your angel? Isn't that how you see it?" Chrollo slouched back. He kicked his legs out in front of him, crossing them.

"I don't believe that." Kurapika dropped down to the concrete floor. He plucked a pebble from the ground and tossed it at Chrollo.

"Ow," Chrollo said flatly.

"Tell me, or I'm not leaving."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does too," said Kurapika.

"I didn't know how important—or that they were dead—I just thought they were your mother's and she'd lent them to you, so—"

"Why only take one when both of them were still in there?" Kurapika narrowed his eyes.

Chrollo's face was flushed. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Making me squirm?"

"You look quite still to me." Kurapika gritted his teeth. "No. I'm not enjoying this. I genuinely don't understand. I have no idea why you would do it and I can't make sense of any of your actions and—"

"I took it planning to give it back to you in—"

"Oh, that's real believable—"

"—because—"

"You don't think I didn't notice you following me after classes or—"

"I—"

"You were always interrupting me in philosophy and that hasn't stopped so—"

"Would you just let me—"

"Why don't you just tell me what it is about—"

"—I thought you were interesting, okay? Until you threw a giant hissy fit when you caught me breaking into your locker. You had good ideas in class."

"Huh?" Kurapika gaped. From his recollection, Chrollo never once raised his hand in their philosophy class.

"I thought you were interesting," Chrollo repeated. "So I looked through your locker. And I planned to give that back to you—"

"Then why did you take it?" Kurapika demanded.

"So I could return it and then have a reason to talk to you—"

"You could have just come up and said hello!"

"I wasn't sure you were interesting or not! And when you threw a fit I found out you definitely—"

"Weren't?" Kurapika said sarcastically.

"On the contrary," Chrollo replied. "You are, but you hate yourself. You cannot fathom the idea that someone might find you interesting, might find anything valuable about you. There are unopened notes at the bottom of your locker that your friends have slipped through the slats. I'd bet good money Leorio was motivated to confront Illumi and get a detention not just for Killua's sake, but because he wanted the chance to talk to you, too."

"That's—that's—pathological!" Kurapika sputtered.

Chrollo craned his neck back. "Why? How? Do you know the definition of the word? There's no lengths your friends wouldn't go to for you. They like you."

"Of course, but—they're—what are you even—" Kurapika curled his fists. He didn't understand. Why wouldn't Leorio just—

Okay, maybe he had ignored a text or two. Or. Five. His shoulders slumped. "If you wanted to tell me I'm a bad friend, why didn't you do it when everyone was skewering each other up there?"

"We weren't skewering each other," said Chrollo. "We were—lancing boils."

Kurapika's nose wrinkled. A snort emerged from his mouth. Chrollo laughed.

Kurapika pinched his earring.

"Has it always been like this?" Chrollo asked. "Or just since—your parents?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it does."

"Why?" Kurapika met his eyes. He knew his must be red again, and he didn't feel the need to disguise them. Chrollo hadn't run away screaming, and he didn't seem like he wanted to kill him as a monster for the genes he had been born with. "Why do you even care? I've been nothing but—"

Chrollo blinked. "You still don't get it?"

"Get what?"

"I—" Chrollo covered his mouth and blew through his fingers. "You really don't. Good grief."

"Stop—"

"I like you," Chrollo blurted out, removing his fingers from his face. "Okay? I like you. I have a crush on you." He screwed up his face as if in pain admitting that.

Kurapika's mouth hung open. He wasn't certain he was breathing. His teeth felt dry. "Wh-what?"

Chrollo frowned. "Do you still not—"

"No, I get it, I just—no. I don't get it. Why would you have a crush on me? After everything?"

"I mean, I considered not after we wound up in detention, but your eyes—and the way you let Hisoka have it back there—I find you intriguing." Chrollo swallowed.

"Oh." He had no way to process this information. Kurapika shook his head. "I'm not."

"Well, you're not God, so you don't get to determine what I do and do not find interesting."

"And you?" Kurapika asked, forcing himself to look at him. He was nothing more than someone who couldn't even keep up with his friends, with dead parents, who was always escaping unscathed from accidents like the one that blinded the cousin he lived with now as a child, the murderers who attacked his parents—there had to be a reason he was still alive, but it shouldn't be a very long life because he didn't deserve it while they—while they— "You—could have just asked—instead of stealing—"

"You're saying you'd have given me the time of day? Knowing what everyone says about me, which is mostly true?"

"Yes," Kurapika said, staring at him. "I would have."

"I don't know how to do that," Chrollo whispered. "I've never—in Meteor City, you take what you can get, or you get nothing at all."

Kurapika lowered his chin to his chest. "I'm sorry."

Chrollo shrugged.

"Don't shrug," said Kurapika. "If something matters to you, why don't you just do something about it? Admit it, go for it? You're mad at hisoka for exposing who you are back there, aren't you? For proving you can't do it on your own? Well, in truth, that made you a lot more interesting to me—and—"

You'd still admit you like me? Even after I—after I—

I'm trash.

"Fair," Chrollo admitted.

Kurapika hesitated. He crouched down next to Chrollo. "Do you have something you want to ask me?" His pulse hammered.

Chrollo stared at him, eyes widening. "I—"

Do you want to ask me out? If so, do it.

Or do you not want to? I wouldn't blame you.

"Can I kiss you?" Chrollo asked.

Kurapika's eyes bulged. He hadn't expected that.

"Sorry," Chrollo said quickly.

"No," said Kurapika, thinking. "I mean, no, it's okay. Yes, you can kiss me." What was he doing? He'd never been kissed before.

"Are you sure?" Chrollo asked.

Kurapika nodded. He met Chrollo's eyes. Chrollo's fingers came towards him, brushing his sockets. "I've never seen eyes so beautiful. Red, or not red. They're not monstrous."

But I am.

Chrollo leaned in, cupping Kurapika's chin. His eyes searched Kurapika's, as if looking for a definitive yes.

You really don't think I am a monster.

Well, I don't think you're worthless either.

Chrollo's lips closed over his, soft. His lip broke through Kurapika's, opening his mouth. Kurapika leaned in. He didn't know if he was using the right amount of tongue, but he knew Chrollo was warm against him. He wrapped an arm around the back of Chrollo's head, fingers combing through his unkempt hair. Chrollo's arms encircled him. He pressed deeper, deeper, and Kurapika pressed back.

Chrollo broke the kiss finally, panting. He rested his head on Kurapika's shoulder.

"Do you want to go on an actual date sometime?" Kurapika mumbled.

Chrollo snorted. He looked up, and his eyes—they were a dark umber, and they were sparkling, like sun-kissed earth after rain. "Yes."

Kurapika hesitated, and then hooked the earring Chrollo had given him back in his ear. "Thank you for giving it back."

"I am truly sorry."

"I believe you." Kurapika squeezed Chrollo's hands. "See you outside?"

Chrollo nodded. Kurapika closed the closet door, scuttling back to the library.

"Well, there's pep in your step," sang Hisoka.

Kurapika shrugged. He smiled at Leorio.

"And your hair is mussed and your lips are—dear God, do you still have that box of condoms? Maybe it was a good thing—"

Kurapika hurled the box at Hisoka. "It's unopened, dirtbag."

"Thank God," said Hisoka, heaving a fake sigh of relief. Kurapika squinted. Was that a hickey on Illumi's neck?

"Well," said Leorio. "What happened?"

"I have a date this week," Kurapika admitted. He covered his smile.

Leorio tugged his hands down. "It's good to see you smiling."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Leorio."

"Welcome."

"Kurapika," called a voice. He turned to see Illumi clasping his hands together. "And Leorio. I will—not interfere with you and Killua anymore. I think—you can be good for him. Just—can you please—not talk too harshly about me?" His shoulders slumped.

"Depends," said Leorio.

"I see no reason to be harsh on you," said Kurapika. If Chrollo wasn't harsh on me, and vice versa.

Illumi's face lit up. He almost looked like Killua for a moment, despite the opposite coloring.

"By the way," asked Hisoka. "Leorio. What'd you write for the essay?"

"That it didn't matter who we thought we were," Leorio said. "We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us—in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain and an athlete, and a clown, a prince, and a criminal."

"I like that," Illumi proclaimed, and he and Leorio exchanged a smile. Kurapika felt hope. Maybe Illumi would work with them to help get his siblings free. They'd all help him, because Killua was their friend. And his hand was clasped with Hisoka's.

"Me too," agreed Hisoka.

Leorio rubbed the back of his neck. He smirked.

And Kurapika understood. Gyro and Pariston were people who had the opportunity to help the bleeding, and locked them up expecting them to tear each other apart. And then there were people like Leorio, who maybe couldn't relate, but allowed all four of them to bleed all over him and found that, in the end, they could be weak and strong and rebellious and controlled, and all those aspects could be knit back together, bandaged, and they all had the tools to do it just because they were breathing and human and looking, looking, looking for that healing. You are a doctor already.

"Oh," said Leorio. "I took some inspiration from Chrollo for the last line."

"Do tell," said Hisoka.

Leorio held it up.

It said, GO FUCK YOURSELF.

"Fits," Kurapika agreed.