A/N: This is not the sequel to "The Series" with my OC Midoya. This is a separate oneshot that I wrote because I am stuck writing the sequel. It's just a collection of 'first meetings' or 'first times' from the perspective of a few characters. The characters were chosen entirely at random, based on whether I am 'inspired' by them or not. You do not need prior knowledge of the 'Midoya' series to understand these short drabbles; all of them are unrelated to the Midoya series anyway. I also may or may not update with more chapters. It really depends on whether I am in the mood or not. Sorry!

I hope you enjoy this story and please leave a review at the end of it!

Hunter X Hunter does not belong to me. I do not own the copyright to it. This is a fanfiction written solely for the purposes of entertainment. Please do not use this story/host it somewhere else without first seeking the author's permission.

A Series of Interesting and Enlightening First Meetings

Kuroro Lucifer

When Kuroro Lucifer got his first good look at the Nen-user who had yanked him from the hotel lobby during the sudden black-out, his first thought was how surprised he was that she was of the species known commonly as the "female teenager". His second thought was that the best strategy to adopt was to seduce the girl.

From years of experience working as Dancho of the Genei Ryodan, Kuroro had realized two things: first, while there is a very thin line between love and hate, there is absolutely no barrier between hate and lust. One was as likely (in fact, more likely) to jump an enemy's bones than a friend's. Second, Kuroro had discovered he was very good at making himself appealing to a certain demographic group: teenage girls. Given that the chain-user was both his enemy and a teenage girl, Kuroro was fairly certain of success. Successfully seducing the girl in this case would bring about many benefits: saving his life, possibly bringing the chain-user into the Genei Ryodan, and regular sex. It was true that in general, Kuroro preferred them older and a little curvier, but he could not think of a better strategy at this stage.

Then Kuroro discovered that the chain-user was in fact not a girl but a boy: a teenage boy. Kuroro Lucifer did not change his strategy. After all, he was only marginally less successful at seducing teenage boys than he was at seducing teenage girls. (Again, he generally preferred them older, but one can hardly afford to be choosy when one is wrapped from head to toe in layers of Nen chains that had already killed one of his best friends.)

With that happy thought in mind, Kuroro Lucifer made his move in the blimp when he was alone with the boy. Many things happened (like horrified screaming and the use of god's name in vain), many things were also thrown (including a chair, a table and a mini-fridge), and by the end of it, Kuroro Lucifer was curled up on the floor hazily admiring through the pain the beautifully-executed kick to the groin that had fell him. There was also a gag in his mouth; an unwashed sock, if he was any judge.

And it was at that moment, with his head spinning and his stomach threatening to expel its contents onto the floor, that Kuroro Lucifer made a discovery.

He really didn't like the taste of dirty socks.

Ubogin

Ubogin was in a very good mood. If anyone happened to walk past him at the moment, they wouldn't have thought he would be in one. He was, after all, paralyzed from the neck down, bleeding from various wounds and had a man covered with hair stuck to his arm. It is such things that put most people in a bad mood, and make people think about why they are on this earth and other thoughts that generally drive people to suicide. However, Ubogin wasn't 'most' people; he was a member of the Genei Ryodan, and he was extremely happy to have found opponents worthy of him.

Ignoring the fat man currently talking about leeches and parasites and whatnot, Ubogin's eyes scanned the other two enemies carefully. He was in a dangerous position (fuck yeah) and could lose his life at any moment (double fuck yeah), but things were not over yet. He could still move his head after all and as long as he can move his head, he can fight. Yes, it's true he wasn't sure how he was going to do that just yet, but he wasn't too worried; Ubogin was, if anything, pretty good at forcing himself to become inspired at the most critical of moments.

The bulbous head coming close to his was pretty darn good inspiration, so Ubogin took a bite out of it. That was one down. Chewing on the horrible gunk in his mouth, he then considered the enemy standing the furthest away. A really tough piece of bone that refused to crunch between his teeth kick-started the flow of creative juices, and Ubogin spat it out as hard as he could. That was the second one down.

Lastly, Ubogin turned to regard the hairy man stuck to his arm. This one was a little more difficult. Surely those irritating hairs that covered the entire body would be able to repel anything Ubogin spat at the enemy (not that he had much left in his mouth other than some chewed up flesh). Damn it, if being able to use hairs from all over the body wasn't cheating… wait. Ubogin blinked. Hairs from all over the body: that meant more than just hair on the head, arms and legs. That meant hair from the underarms, the chest, the happy trail… between the legs, all stuck into Ubogin's arm. Fuck no. The thought was enough to make him scream.

So he did.

Illumi

The first time Illumi met Kuroro Lucifer, the both of them were fifty stories above ground level dangling off the side of the Pan-Eastern Mafia Finances Building.

How things came to this was a rather long story. Two days earlier, Illumi had gotten a request to assassinate the CEO of the Pan-Eastern Mafia Finances Corporation. Given that the method he had chosen to carry out this particular assignment was to abseil down the side of the building, enter the fiftieth story where the CEO was and kill him, he had thus proceeded to jump off the building with a harness attached – only to discover, much to his dismay, that there was already someone else standing on the ledge of the CEO's window.

"Hi, Kuroro Lucifer," the man had said, with a charming smile.

"Hi, Illumi Zoldyck," Illumi had replied, immediately fascinated by the pale skin and black eyes. It was like meeting a doppelganger of himself.

"Oh. Cool. A Zoldyck. I've met one of you before. It was very exciting. Are you here to rob the building?"

"No. I'm here to assassinate the CEO."

"Nice. Our goals are different. There is no reason why we can't cooperate for the purposes of our differing goals, no?" A pale, cold hand was offered to him. "An alliance, I propose."

"Okay," Illumi had agreed, gripping the hand, because it was a reasonable request – wasn't it?

It was only later, while he was pulling pins out of a dead CEO's body that it occurred to Illumi that he had heard the name 'Kuroro Lucifer' before. "Aren't you Dancho of the Genei Ryodan?" he asked the man peering interestedly into the safe in the CEO's office.

"Yup, I am. Oh look, sapphires. How nice. I've always thought sapphires are lovely."

Illumi studied the black-clad figure that was happily admiring the blue gems in his gloved hand, and, strangely enough, felt an inexplicable surge of satisfaction that the man was satisfied. "My father told me I was never to hunt the Genei Ryodan," he told the figure. "And my mother always told me never to hunt residents or ex-residents of Meteor City."

"Is that so?" the figure asked distractedly. "That's very smart of them. Ah, a gold watch. Oh, no, a fake gold watch."

"Yes, that is so," Illumi agreed, watching the mysterious, ethereal face crease into a frown at the offending object. Impulsively, he said, "If you ever need me to kill someone, I can offer you a thirty per cent discount."

Finally, the black-clad figure looked at him straight on, and a faint smile ghosted over the lovely, full lips. "That is very kind of you," the smoky, masculine voice said. "I'll be sure to remember that the next time I need to hire an assassin."

Illumi found himself smiling back. It was at that very moment that Illumi realized he quite liked this enigmatic, charismatic person. It was also the same moment Illumi decided that he was going to kill Kuroro Lucifer one day. Anyone who could earn Illumi's loyalty so easily could not be allowed to live for long. Anyone Illumi liked had to die.

That was the Zoldyck way.

Machi

Machi had been a member of the Genei Ryodan since the beginning, when she was still in her formative years. Hence, her membership with this particular group had always been a large part of her identity. It was unfortunate in many ways, she had mused one day that this particular group which she identified so strongly with was so male-dominated.

Normally, it was not something Machi took much note of. The Ryodan members were raised in a society where the only thing that mattered was power. Without power, one died, and death was, as Dancho liked to say, the great equalizer. Ironically, this awareness made Meteor City one of the freest countries in terms of racial, gender and sexual equality in the world. Who cared if you were a woman or gay or bisexual or, for that matter, what colour your skin was, as long as you were powerful enough to cheat Death? Machi liked that; liked that the other Ryodan members never looked down on her or the other women in the group for being women. If anything, they tended to forget she was a woman. It was a system that worked perfectly for a strong, independent woman like Machi who refused to be defined by some preconceived social perception of how women should behave.

It only became something of a minor irritant, Machi realized, outside of missions. Because Machi, though she was probably the most masculine female in the group, was also the most feminine, and part of that femininity was expressed in a great fondness for makeup. Not that she was obsessed with it, but she did like wearing mascaras and lip glosses, perhaps some eye shadow too, if she had the time to put it on. It wasn't to look pretty for other people. It was just another way for her to express her own unique identity, something Dancho always encouraged. She liked makeup, therefore she wore it; it was really quite simple when broken down like this.

No one else in the group understood it. Nobunaga was always asking her why she was wearing mascara if it was just going to smudge later during the mission when she started to perspire (she usually replied by saying the mission was so simple she wouldn't even breathe harder, much less perspire). Even Shizuku once asked why she liked "putting shiny things on her mouth". It was, oddly enough, Dancho who most understood her fondness for wearing makeup. "It's a way of being different", he had said when she had struggled to explain the reason why wore blush to a thick-headed Ubogin. But even so, Dancho didn't wear makeup and thus could never fully understand the kind of pleasure Machi got from wearing different shades of lip gloss each day (pink if she was in a neutral mood, red if she was feeling like a woman, purple if she was feeling like a man, and orange if she was in the mood to start a fight).

Then Hisoka came. The moment Machi had first lay eyes on his heavily painted face, she had thought he was a god-sent. Finally, someone else in the Ryodan who wears makeup! Finally, someone who could understand the way makeup wasn't just a tool to look 'pretty', but also an art form used to express a unique and special personality!

When she asked him what brand of foundation he used, he had smiled at her, told her 'Dolly Face' and then asked if he could fuck her. Phinx's jaw had dropped, Franklin had turned green (and remained that way ever since) and even Dancho had looked horrified. Machi had looked coolly at the grinning, painted face, smiled grimly and proceeded to break every bone in his face.

Following that, she had fixed his face without charging him. Because she was grateful. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't have remembered what made the Ryodan so special to her in the first place. Better to be misunderstood over something insignificant like fashion-sense than to be treated as a walking womb. She mentioned as much to Phinx.

Phinx asked her what the hell a womb was and why didn't he have one.

Hisoka

Hisoka being Hisoka (always interested in powerful opponents) had known of the Genei Ryodan for at least a year before he finally encountered them. When it happened though, it was purely by accident.

The location was the Modern Music Opera House. Hisoka had been there on a date with a lovely, delicate-looking woman with a penchant for tying him up and doing very decadent and immoral things to him. He had been in a tuxedo, with his hair down. She had been in a black leather dominatrix outfit that made a startling contrast with her heart-shaped face and girlish blonde curls. The voluptuous soprano below was perspiring and straining as she pushed the technically-difficult piece to its climax. Hisoka had been tied to the railings of the stall, his lovely dominatrix pushing him towards a climax of his own.

A dark shape flittered past his vision. Abruptly, his beautiful dominatrix was headless and blood was splattering all over him. Surprised and incredibly disappointed, Hisoka had torn the restraints off his wrists and looked about for someone else to vent his frustrated desires on.

From his elevated position, Hisoka got a good look of the stage and the first floor of the theatre. People were running about, screaming and dying. Other people were firing off guns at a group of powerful Nen-users zipping between people and removing random body parts. A massive hairy man had plucked the soprano off her feet and was carrying the screaming woman out of the theatre. (Hisoka later found out that the Ryodan had been there to steal the soprano. It turns out Kuroro Lucifer is a fan of hers.) What really caught his attention though was the young man standing still on the stage, watching the intruders slaughter the defenseless opera-goers.

Hisoka's eyes ran over the man. Uber pale skin, rose-bud lips, black hair and black eyes; a large coat framed with fur. Then those eyes were looking back at him. Hisoka froze in place. The gaze was so dark, so intense, it compelled Hisoka, ordered him to stare back. But it was more than that; the gaze was cold, it was passionate, it was sated, it was hungry. It caressed his skin, whispered in his ears the things it would make him do, whispered the things it could do for him if he knelt before it.

A whimper escaped Hisoka's lips and the gaze broke. Offering him a faint, enigmatic smile, the man looked away to regard the sandy-haired man next to him. Hisoka inhaled deeply, wetting his lips with his tongue. Then he started to laugh. Still laughing, he stepped over the leather-clad corpse at his feet (she looks familiar; maybe someone he saw at the ticket counter or something?) and exited the theatre.

Finally, he had found a new toy to play with.

Ging

When she first told him that she was pregnant, Ging had run away.

It was, he admitted as threw himself bodily through the window of their two story house, a very cowardly, irresponsible and unmanly thing to do. However, he tried to comfort himself as he landed on the ground and sprinted off with shards of glass still stuck to his pajamas, he was really doing it for her. She wasn't a hunter. She didn't know the kind of things Ging did every day, the kind of things he had seen, the kind of things that he had to forget every night in order to get some sleep. Keeping her existence a secret had been difficult enough; having to keep her existence and a child's existence secret would have been impossible. Children need so much care, they need so much time, they need so much… effort; surely he was doing her a favour by leaving her. She always complained what a difficult man he was to care for, surely without his presence she would have a much easier time raising the child.

Besides, Ging muttered guiltily to himself as he bought the ticket to the next flight out of this wretched town, he had left a substantial amount of money in an account under her name, enough for her and her child to live off for the rest of their lives, and surely that covered his familial responsibilities and duties.

Eight months later, he was back in that wretched town. Turns out his prediction was right; the money was more than enough for her entire life-time, all eight months of it. She had passed away during childbirth. And now, there was a baby in his hands as he stared moodily down at the grave stone that bore her name, a baby that, irony of ironies, bore a startling resemblance to him. What was he to do now? This time, the excuses he had used when he ran away were real… reasons. He couldn't take a baby with him; his lifestyle was too dangerous, too difficult, too taxing on this fragile little thing that needed a parent that wouldn't keep running into assassins and dangerous places.

Mito it was then. Mito would raise the child; keep him… her… it… (was this a boy or a girl? Ging snuck a stealthy peek under the wrappings; right. Boy.). Mito would keep him safe.

Twelve years later, during the Hunter Chairman elections, Ging finally got to meet the boy. He watched the emotions flickering rapidly across the boy's face: guilt, grief, anger, shame. Then the tears. Large, wet, tears and slimy mucous coursing down the child's face; tears that were followed quickly by a brilliant smile. It suddenly occurred to him how much the baby was… like her. Distant memories of similar tears, of similar smiles dredged themselves out from the deep recesses of his mind.

As Ging sent the boy off, an uncharacteristic surge of emotion clenched at his chest. It was an unfamiliar one, but he identified it quickly enough. Regret; like an itch in a place that could not be reached, like a phantom limb that could never be replaced; ungraspable, irreconcilable regret.

He really wished he had been there to say goodbye to her.

Pariston

When Pariston first met Cheadle, he was struck by two things. First, how intelligent she was. Second, how adorable she was.

It was the ears, he mused, as he half-listened to Beans making the welcome speech for the new Vice-Chairman Pariston. He loved dogs. What he loved about dogs was their ears, the way every emotion, every thought dogs had, were expressed by their ears. It made them ridiculously easy to play with – until they bit back. Then it got ridiculously fun.

"… Vice-chairman Pariston?" Pariston blinked. Suddenly, he was aware that there was someone standing in front of him; someone who smelled faintly of dog biscuits (not true, but Pariston liked thinking she would smell of dog biscuits if she could; dog biscuits smelt so cute after all).

"Hello," Pariston said, climbing to his feet and offering his hand to the petite woman in front of him. "You must be Cheadle. I have heard much about you."

The too-serious face looked at him with a slight smile. "Have you, now? I have heard much about you too. What things have you heard, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Very intelligent, very rational, very ah… bitchy." Pariston smiled and pumped her hand enthusiastically. "Pleasure to meet you."

She smiled tightly and shook his hand back. Her ears remained still. "Pleasure to meet you too. I've heard the similar things about you," she said.

"Really? Like what?"

"Very intelligent, very rational, definitely not too be trusted, kind of ratty. Two out of three is not too bad, isn't that right, Pariston?"

Oh. The dog had bite. Pariston's smile widened with sincerity. "Indeed. It isn't bad at all," he acknowledged. Then he dropped her hand and clapped loudly, drawing the attention of all the other Zodiac members in the room. "Greetings fellow hunters," he said, beaming at the faces looking at him. "I am very pleased that so many of you have gathered to celebrate my ascension to this position today. I am very happy to have the opportunity to serve the Hunter's Association and I look forward to working with all the rest of the Zodiac members." Murmurs of approval greeted that statement. A pair of eyes glared suspiciously at him.

Looking over the group of people in front of him like a king surveying his domain, Pariston said, "Today, I would like to assign my first mission as Vice-Chairman of the Hunter's Association. As many of you would know, a new species of wild cats have been located in the mountains of Pisu. Normally, such things would be studied by hunters who have an interest in such things. However, we have received information that diminishing natural habitats have resulted in numerous fatal encounters between the wild cats and humans; fatal for both species that is. This has become an international issue, as some of the humans killed have been from Quanx, which is a tiny nation at the foot of Pisu. The government of Quanx wishes the government of Pisu to eliminate the wild cats. The government of Pisu do not wish to do so, as they are very proud of the fact that these wild cats can only be found in Pisu. Both governments are requesting that the Hunter's Association step in as a neutral party to resolve this issue."

Yet again, murmurs grew from the crowd, this time with discomofrt. Pariston knew why; both Pisu and Quanx were infamous for being nudist colonies. Neither country believed that humans should cover themselves as they believed an omnipotent god had created the human form, and thus humans should not be ashamed of the naked self. In order to show respect for both countries, anyone sent there would have to… do as the locals do.

"I propose sending Cheadle-san there," Pariston said, smiling widely. The room breathed a sigh of relief. The woman next to him erupted with cold fury.

"Why on earth would you send me?" Cheadle demanded, her voice calm but simmering with controlled anger, the ears on her head still and immovable. "I am not a wild-life specialist, nor have I ever been to that region. Someone who has prior knowledge of…"

"Ah, but I have great faith in you, Cheadle-san," Pariston interrupted. "You are the most intelligent of the Zodiacs, one of the calmest and most collected too. Your brains and your personality make you the best candidate for this job." He smiled at the look of shock on her face. "Besides," he concluded, "since there are wild cats involved, I believe you have the… best nose for this job."

The entire room erupted with laughter, the too-serious face flushed red, and the ears went erect and started vibrating with rage. Pariston smiled to himself.

Really too adorable.

Kurapika

Within a short four years of his life, Kurapika experienced many firsts. He saw members of his tribe for the first time with their eyes gorged out, eyeless faces staring accusingly at him for surviving. He met Gon, Killua and Leorio for the first time, and discovered that it was still possible to feel happy even after the death of his tribe. He met mafiaso for the first time, hardened murderers who, surprisingly, still could have hearts of gold. He discovered people who have suffered as much as he had; people who could make him happy, who could care for him. He killed for the first time; a man… a man who had friends, whom he had only met a few times before, a man who was also a cold-blooded murderer.

However, none of these firsts were ever as vexing as the first time Kurapika drove a knee into Kuroro Lucifer's groin.

"What's so funny?" Kurapika hissed, forcing himself to put down the broken bottle that was in his hand before he smashed it over the man's face.

Kuroro Lucifer was flat on the ground. He was flat on the ground, curled around his damaged goods and laughing. Yes, he was breathless with pain, but he was still laughing. "Y… you…" he gasped breathlessly than continued to laugh.

"I asked you, what is so funny!" Kurapika shouted, kicking the shaking figure in the side. Kuroro Lucifer gasped in pain then continued to laugh.

"Kurapika?" The door opened and Leorio came in looking anxious. "What's wrong? Hey! Don't do that!" Kurapika made an undignified sound as Leorio actually picked him up bodily and dragged him screaming and kicking away from the prone figure. "Stop it! Geez! What the hell happened? What did he do to you? What did you do to him?"

"He… he…!" Kurapika shouted, too outraged to be coherent.

"What?" Leorio shouted, sounding really panicked by then. "Damn it! Kuroro Lucifer, what the hell did you do to him?"

Finally the laughter died down. "Nothing," the prone figure said, smiling widely. "That's what's so funny. I didn't do anything to him."

"Liar!" Kurapika shrieked. "Liar! Murderer! Whore!"

"I'm not lying," Kuroro Lucifer said, chuckling. "I haven't done anything to you – yet." Dark, long lashes lowered. "Just to let you know, my offer still stands."

And that was the first time Kurapika ever pulled a sock of Leorio and stuffed it into another man's mouth.

A/N: And that was it. I hope you enjoyed the story. Do leave a review telling me which character's story you liked best. If you have any ideas of other characters, do let me know too, and I'll see if I can actually write them up. In the meantime, as is my style these days, trivial for each short drabble is below. Enjoy and hope to hear from you guys soon!

Trivial

Kuroro Lucifer: The discovery that he did not like the taste of dirty socks is a more startling one than some might realise. Having grown up in Meteor City, Kuroro Lucifer, like most other residents of said city, had been forced to subsist on garbage, rotten food and any other potentially edible things (including poisonous mushrooms to which most residents either developed an immunity to or died from). This had given him a stomach of steel and a tongue of plastic, and the remarkable ability to survive on nothing but cardboard and rain water for two months. That there was actually something out there which taste could make him nauseous was hence a great shame indeed.

Ubogin: Much later, it occurred to Ubo that he had touched worse things than body hair in his life: intestines, kidneys and brain matter, to name just a few. It made him feel much better about the incident and just a little sorry he had screamed at the poor man. Just a little only though; it is still very rude to stick your pubic hair into another man's arm. People these days have no sense of decency at all.

Illumi: When Illumi's mother had told him he was never to fight residents of Meteor City because they were powerful in ways he could only imagine, he hadn't believed her. How powerful could they be after all? Was he not a son of Zoldyck, the most powerful family of assassins in the world? Then he found out that his mother had grown up in Meteor City so he had asked her to demonstrate the power of a Meteor City resident. Lying flat on the ground, dying slowly from loss of blood and arsenic poisoning, six year old Illumi had vowed never to doubt his mother's words ever again.

Machi: When Shalnark joined the Ryodan, all of Machi's makeup troubles were solved. She had finally found someone who will listen patiently to her as she talked about makeup (mostly because if he didn't, she would sew his mouth up). More than that, he helped her buy makeup online and researched the latest beauty trends on her behalf. Their relationship wasn't only to her benefit though. She often patched up his wounds obtained during missions for a much lower price than for other Ryodan members, and she stuck a needle in his thigh every time he started gushing about his newest gadget to the point of social awkwardness. Machi was glad she had finally found a friend who could be bullied into truly understanding her.

Hisoka: It was just as well Hisoka's dominatrix friend died when she did. For the last few days of her relationship with Hisoka, Hisoka had been getting bored of being the one tied up all the time. In fact, it had occurred to him it might be refreshing to be the one tying people up instead. If the dominatrix had survived the Ryodan attack, she might not have enjoyed the switch as much. Hisoka did have so much trouble telling the difference between mild bleeding and arterial spray.

Ging: Common knowledge on Whale Island is that Mito had wrestled Ging's parenting rights away from him by bringing him to court. The truth was, Ging had deliberately bribed the judge and jury into letting him lose. He did it for both the child's and Mito's sake. If Mito didn't at least win something from him, she would probably go insane with rage and tear the whole island up just to vent her frustration. Ging had very little knowledge of how babies are raised, but he assumed a post-apocalyptic world probably isn't the best environment for raising a healthy, well-adjusted child.

Pariston: In the end Cheadle managed to resolve the Quanx/Pisu crisis within a week, and she did it without ever having to take off her clothes. Pariston was extremely disappointed until she turned up at his office, glowing with pride and her ears twitching with glee. Really too adorable.

Kurapika: This wasn't the first time his life Kurapika had been propositioned by a man. His naturally feminine looks and sense of fashion had led to many a misconception about his sex and sexual orientation. Once, to avoid all this unwanted attention, Kurapika had tried cutting his hair shorter and wearing baggier, more masculine clothes. It made him look even younger than he really was, but at least he looked like a boy now. However, that resulted in unwanted attention from an entirely different set of male predators. Eventually Kurapika gave up, grew his hair longer and went back to his tribal clothes. Better to be mistaken as a teenage girl than a pre-teen boy. Men who liked the former group only tried to pick him up. Men who liked the latter group always tried to kidnap him. It was all extremely annoying.