Summary; Kurapika is the best student in Leorio's art class. And the teacher couldn't help but feel some sort of attraction to him… LeoPika

Disclaimer; Everything is of the creation of Yoshihiro Togashi-sama. Everything but the plot of course.

Note; Have you read Runaway by bigSEED? (It's a great story by the way.) But the reason I bring this up is because she stated that some the people who have added this story on their Story Alert list don't even bother to review. So if you love me (and maybe want the next chapter), review a lot on this chapter. XD Please, thank you, and enjoy!

- - -

Chapter Three; After School Surprise

Leorio sat on the floor of his living room, his elbow on the coffee table and his hand cradling his chin. His other hand lightly tapped a sketch book that lay on the table.

No, he wasn't thinking of a new drawing. No, the book wasn't even open. And no, the book wasn't even his own sketch book. His was sitting in his suitcase by the door. It was Kurapika's. He had held onto it all day since lunch time, hoping to be able to give it back to the blond boy after school. But it seemed the boy had left quickly after the bell rung.

Sighing, he fingered the corner of the book's front cover.

He wanted to so much look through the pages and admire the pictures. From the looks of the book this morning, the boy was already half way through it. He wanted to see them all, the drawings. He wasn't just satisfied with the pictures Kurapika drew in class.

Leorio was a lover of art. He admired all great pictures and most famous artists were his heroes, his idols.

His hand itched to turn the pages. Now. But, he couldn't. He wanted to, so, so, badly. Wouldn't it be an invasion of privacy?

He sighed again and turned on the television across the room using the remote. Hopefully watching some good, mind-numbing television would get his mind off of the sketches by his favorite student.

- - -

When Kurapika walked in the front door to his home, he didn't even bother to say an, "I'm home." And why was that? Well, the sad truth is that no one was there to tell that he was home to, besides his fish. But it's not like the fish cared.

His parents died four years ago, when he was about twelve or thirteen years old in a car crash on the highway.

He was also in the car crash, but since he was in the backseat, he didn't get it as hard as his parents did. They were on their way to a family member's birthday celebration when they were hit by a criminal running from the police. His parents died almost instantly as the criminal hit the front end, while he was knocked unconscious by the impact and the pain he had felt in his arm and ribs. The police had let out a dispatch for the ambulance quickly.

When the boy had woken up three days after the crash, he was told that he had a few broken ribs alone with his parent's deaths. Legally, he wasn't supposed to live on his own until he was eighteen, so he lived with his aunt and uncle. But seeing as the boy distance himself from them, they asked him if he'd like to live on his own when he entered his second year of high school. He said yes.

So, they let him live in an apartment not too far from them and closer to his high school. They paid the rent, of course. He had insisted that he work for the money to enable him to live in the apartment, but they declined. Not wanting to start a fight with the people who cared for him for two years, he accepted it.

His apartment wasn't really big. It was basically a big square, his living room, dining room, and kitchen squeezed together. The kitchen was divided from the rest of the room an island that turned in a curve for the living room. His fish's bowl sat on top of the island. The dining room wasn't really a dining room, but rather seats lined up along the outer side of the kitchen's island. His living room consisted of a small loveseat couch that pulled out into a bed, a rocking chair, and a small ottoman with a glass panel over it for drinks and the candles and pictures Kurapika put there, a CD rack that was bare of anything except for more pictures, and a television that was rarely used.

There was an attached bedroom and bathroom to complete the living quarters. Kurapika's bedroom was small. It had a small walk-in closet where he put his dresser to save room, his full sized bed, a nightstand and lamp, his desk, and a tiny bookshelf. The room was painted a nice pale blue and his floor was wood. His comforter set was striped navy blue, yellow, and beige. His bookshelf was full of worn-out novels from the second-hand book shop down the street and about few other sketch books he has been filling up since he started middle school. A small candle and a picture of his parents adorned the top of the shelf.

Sighing, Kurapika set his backpack down on the floor by the front door and slipped off his shoes. He went into the kitchen to make a snack. After eating a small sandwich, he began to do his homework. Later, when it was finished, he looked at the time. It was only six forty-five.

He set down his mechanical pencil and went to his backpack. He dug in it to grab his sketch book, but couldn't find it. Where was it?

He began to panic.

Kurapika poured the contents of his backpack onto the floor, but his sketch book wasn't in there. Where was it, where was it, where was it?! That sketch book was his personal item. Instead of a diary, or a journal, he had his sketch book. Instead of writing out his feelings, he drew them in beautiful pictures.

He huffed and ran his hand through his hair. He thought back on what he did that day, clicking "Re-wind" on the remote to his memory. Then it hit him. When he went to the art class room to use the potter's wheel! That's it! Right when he looked at the time, he forgot all about his sketch book and rushed back to class.

But how could he have forgotten it all day? There was so much personal stuff in that book, he hoped no one grabbed it and started looking through it.

- - -

Leorio sat upside down on his couch, staring at the sketch book rather than the television. He stuck out his bottom lip in thought, then chewed on the end of his sunglasses, changed the channel a few times and finally moved to sit up right. It was down right annoying, that sketch book of one of the most talented artists in the school sitting in his living room and he wasn't looking at the drawings.

"Stop mocking me!" he yelled.

The sketch book sat innocently on the coffee table.

"No! I will not look through you!"

Damn, he was going nuts.

After half an hour of muttering to himself and a few times at the quiet sketch book, he gave up and sat back on the floor.

"Okay, one drawing and that's it!" he said and drew a breath.

He turned the front cover and instead of a drawing, there was a pocket. So, it was one of those special ones with pockets to hold extra items, huh? But instead of holding any artistic items like an extra pencil or a small eraser, it held a small three by five inch photo. Curious, Leorio carefully plucked it from the pocket.

In the photo were two young adults that looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties and a small child of about six or seven. The child had blond hair and beautiful blue eyes.

This must be Kurapika as a child. Aw, how cute! He thought and smiled. The boy looked so happy.

On either side of kid Kurapika was who Leorio guessed to be his parents. The woman was beautiful, with long blond hair brushed behind her ears and chocolate brown eyes. The man had black hair and blue eyes. His father was a bit muscular, so Kurapika obviously got most of his features from his mother except for his eyes and maybe his nose. But he was almost an exact replica of his mother, without the breasts of course.

The background of the picture was green and blue, so they must've been at the park. Kurapika had a half-eaten ice cream cone in his small hand as he was licking the top of it. His father looked amused while his mother was trying to wipe some ice cream off the small boys face. It didn't look like the little Kurapika minded at all.

Slowly, he turned it around. On the back of the photo, written in black ink, was "R.I.P. Mother and Father. I will remember and love you forever. –Kurapika"

Just reading that simple line, made tears spring to Leorio's eyes.

Now who would've thought that the beautiful blond, who sat in Leorio's classroom everyday, who looked happy and well okay with life, was living without his parents? Leorio couldn't believe it. Not one bit. But there was even a date at the bottom. It was about four years ago so, Leorio immediately guessed it as their date of death.

He still couldn't believe it.

Leorio completely forgot about the drawings just located on the turn of the pocketed pages and was fully engrossed in the picture and its words.

- - -

(Final Count; 1,537 words)

Please, please review! I'm going to try and write the rest of the forth chapter by the time I leave for my trip to Pennsylvania. If not, I'm gonna drag my writing binder up there and hopefully get to write it. XD So… have high hopes? See you and PLEASE REVIEW!!!

-XK