It's been a really long while since I last wrote a Hunter X Hunter fanfic. I hope I'm not totally off with the characterization, because I have not actually watched the series in more than a year now.

This is my first shot at yaoi in HxH. I would love to hear from you guys about it.

Disclaimer: I do not own.

He opened his eyes to see fire.

A thick red hue covered his sight, and for a moment he thought it was his eyes. But a few sparks from a nearby house stung his arms, and he realized it wasn’t just his eyes. The world around him was burning.

He looked around frantically, trying to get away from the burning demon. He didn’t want to die. Not here…not yet. He still had things left undone. He still had people to meet. But the fire seemed ignorant to his desire. He was surrounded by a ring of burning things…what seemed to be the remains of houses, carts…people?

So this was how despair felt like. It was like a black stain in his heart that kept spreading, covering all the comforting memories and hopes for the future he may have had. The stain was spreading so fast that he thought it could probably put out the fire. Fire was a bright thing …although it was about to kill him, it was still beautiful… and this stain seemed to exist solely to remove anything bright from the world.

And then he laughed a crackled laugh. How utterly stupid could he be right now?

He realized that this dream awfully resembled the nightmare that had haunted him years ago. The dream where his memories replayed the night when the Kuruta tribe was massacred, to imprint the fear and guilt and vengeance deep in his soul. The dream he saw every single night until he had met three boys at the Hunter Exams.

He thought it had left him long ago, but apparently not.

Or was it? This seemed a little different from that dream. That dream consisted of people’s screaming and cattle’s baying. The fire wasn’t this big (the building in the tribe were hardly half the size of what was burning now), and he himself was a lot younger. His hands were not yet so coarse, and he was not as tall.

Here, everything was quiet except for the crackling of fire. Nothing moved except for the huge, red thing. He was a ragged youth denied the innocence of childhood.

He secretly hoped this wasn’t a dream. If this was actually happening, it would only be a matter of time before he himself burned to ashes. And then he would no longer have to go through all the misery of the world, and everything will be quiet. Nothing would forever be nagging behind his conscience to kill the Spider. Nothing would forever be appealing to him to forget avenging the tribe and lead a peaceful life.

He opened his arms to welcome the death that was to come. He only wished it would have come earlier…but at least now it would all end. He closed his eyes, and retracted his senses.

Then something flew into his arms and embraced him.
“Don’t give up.”
A gentle voice whispered into his ears. He tried to open his eyes again to see what it was, but something kept him from doing so.
“Live.”
The warmth of that something …someone?... was comforting. It shielded him from the burning heat.
“It’s time for you to let go. Live. But don’t forget.”
He tried to embrace that someone back. It was something he knew he shouldn’t let go. It covered him, wrapped him up in tenderness, and made him feel like an innocent boy he was supposed to be. But as soon as his arms touched that warmth, it started slipping away.
“I love you…”
That someone said as he felt himself dropping rapidly into darkness.

xoxox

“Kurapika! Kurapika… Please wake up, I beg you…”
The next voice to invade his mind was one that he knew all to well. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to adjust himself to the sudden light.
“Kurapika! Thank goodness…”
“…Kuroro?”
His voice came out as a raspy whisper, but Kuroro seemed happy to hear it. His ruffled hair and tired eyes showed how long Kuroro must have been at his side, and all he could do was smile cynically in return.

Right. He shielded Kuroro from an explosion caused by a defective mine, and that was the reason why he was hurting all over.

“Why, Kurapika? Why did you do that?”
The raven-haired youth’s reprimanding tone was something he never thought he’d ever hear. This whole situation was not something he could have imagined a few years ago in the first place.
“…I don’t know. I just did.”
“You could have killed yourself. And you know perfectly well I can take care of myself.”
“Right, right. Is that all you have to say?”

It has been a full two years since he joined the Phantom Brigade. Joined may not be exactly right; it has been a full two years since he was forced to join the Brigade. The Brigade that now consisted of only him and Kuroro.

He had succeeded in avenging his tribe, in a way. Through various schemes, he had taken the lives of all the Brigade members with the exception of Kalluto, Hisoca and Kuroro. Kalluto and Hisoca left the Brigade before he could get to them, and besides, they were not part of the Brigade at the time of the massacre, so he did not really care.

Kuroro, however, was a completely different deal. On his last scheme, the one where he had intended to crush the last remainder of the Brigade, he was done in by the cunning leader and was taken as a hostage instead.

And since then, he has lived by the side of the man he swore to kill on the night of the massacre.

“Kurapika, do you realize how much I worried about you for the three days you’ve been asleep?”
Kuroro who, as he confessed some time ago, had fallen in love with him somehow.
“Have I really been sleeping for that long?”
Kuroro who, as much as he hated admitting this, had stolen his heart to in a similar fashion.

The one person who he thought he would never get.

The voice from that dream echoed in his mind again.
“It’s time for you to let go. Live. But don’t forget.”
Could he, really, let go? Would the souls of his departed brothers allow him to do so?

As long as he did not forget their despair they felt that night, could he really?

He decided that since it was his dream, it was for him to interpret it as he wanted.

He also had despaired on that night, when he realized he was the only one to survive. He had suffered for years. He had given up his childhood in the search for his foes. He had killed, losing a part of his own soul in the process, to avenge his tribe. He had fallen for the one person who he shouldn’t have, and although he knew that he was so close to getting what he wanted, he had held back for two years because of the guilt he felt.

It may not equal the amount of suffering his brothers had suffered, but he felt it was enough. He was tired. He needed comfort. Was it a sin to gain the tiny bit of happiness that came within his reach?

“Kurapika, are you even listening to me?”
He smiled a real smile in what felt like an eternity. Kuroro seemed surprised too, but before he could react, Kurapika grabbed his collar and dragged him down.

The light, short kiss marked Kurapika’s release from his past.

“I’m sorry, but I want to let go. Please let me do this…I swear to the gods of the Kuruta that I will not forget.”

“I love you.”
Those three words that Kurapika was kept from since that cursed night tickled his ears, and he felt a teardrop fall from his eye.