Hello everybody! My, it's been a while, hasn't it? I am so, so sorry for taking so long to post this story, which is a sequel to A Series of Romantic Burning Buildings, of course. My greatest apologies. As I've explained to those who have kindly asked after me (hi Fio682 and TheParadoxicalOtaku!), I got a job middle of last year and a whole slew of adult responsibilities, so I don't really have time to write as much as I would love to. I am still writing though, regularly, but perhaps only once a week. That means, I would rather prefer having the entire story down first before posting. This is to avoid readers having to wait too long between chapters (I take about a week or so to edit each chapter). So sorry and all that.

At any rate, more about this story: It takes place immediately after A Series of Romantic Burning Buildings (the day after). It's not about the Dark Continents since Togashi has disappeared off the face of the earth. It is also quite a different type of story, as I was experimenting with a different style of setting/narrative etc. This is a much darker story and there are scary images in it, so if you have a rather low tolerance for gore/horror etc, you might want to bow out now. If you are willing to stick around, thank you very much. I hope you enjoy the story. It was an absolute terror to write (had to re-write it several times in fact). Please leave a review to let me know if you like it!

Disclaimer: Hunter X Hunter, Logic of Sense, and any other books/movies/songs etc referenced in this story (other than The Inaccessible Unconscious) do not belong to me.

A Series of Unexpected and Highly Dangerous Meetings

The rising sun was exceptionally beautiful that morning. Soft and orange, it spread over the sprawling metropolis that was York Shin, casting it in a warm glow that gave the corrupt city an unusually friendly and welcoming demeanour. A light breeze, delicious cool, swept across the city, taking with it the usual stench of city life and replacing it with something a little cleaner, a little sweeter. Birds, those that had not been wiped out by the city's overly zealous pest control, filled the city with gentle coos. It was as much a paradise as York Shin, a city run by the mafia, could get.

Kuroro Lucifer opened his eyes, took one look at this beautiful setting, grouchily muttered "Stupid sun" and tried to go back to sleep.

Despite the long night before, he found himself incapable of returning to the sweet land of dreams. Broken bones and torn flesh ached, tugging at his consciousness and reminding him that he was in as many pieces as a human body could be without actually falling apart. The bed seemed overly warm, making his scars itch. The stupid wind coming in through Midoya's window kept flapping the sheets into his face. It was hell on earth and it was interrupting his sleep. Kuroro sighed in resignation, opened his eyes again and stared at the plain, white ceiling above him, adorned only by a throwing knife that had been split in half by another of its kind. Glancing to his side, he caught sight of Midoya, Two Star Blacklist Hunter and his lover (most days), snoring peacefully away.

Just yesterday, the two of them had managed to stop an assassination on her by the Zoldycks, acting under the orders of mafia don Richard Temple, who was now dead. Many things had happened, and as was normally the case when he worked with Midoya, the both of them had ended up with multiple bone fractures, large gaping wounds and horrendous burns. Even the forgiving half-light of dawn couldn't soften the purple bruises on Midoya's face or hide the unsightly knots on her arm where her bones had shattered under the attack of the powerful Zeno Zoldyck.

Kuroro supposed he didn't look much better since he had been standing right next to Midoya when the attack came down on her. At least he didn't have to worry about looking like he just got beaten up. He was Dancho of the Genei Ryodan, infamous A class criminals born from the shit-hole that is Meteor City; getting roughed up by a bunch of deadly assassins was pretty much all in a day's work. Midoya on the other hand was also June Kito, honourary mafia, rich heiress and calculative capitalist. June, being the type of person to send people to do her fighting instead of doing it herself, was not supposed to look like she had run into the wrong kind of crowd in the nasty part of town where the poor people live. It was probably a good thing then that Midoya was as good with make-up and disguises as she was with Nen. A better chameleon, Kuroro had never met, than his Midoya.

Lying back and feeling his wounds ache, it occurred to Kuroro how unfair it was that he wasn't able to get more rest while Midoya could, so he deliberately poked her in the calf with his toe. That snapped her back to wakefulness and her eyes opened immediately.

"Ah, you are awake. Good morning," Kuroro said innocently, turning over to give her a kiss.

"Good morning," Midoya mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. Her eyes roved around and he knew she was trying to figure out what had woken her. He didn't bother to enlighten her. The key to a healthy relationship, he had discovered, is the withholding of painful truths at the appropriate times. After a while, she gave up. Yawning, she turned around to snuggle against him. "What time is it?" she asked sleepily into his chest.

"The best I can tell you is that it is dawn," Kuroro told her wryly. "You don't have a clock in here, Midoya dear. You really need to get your new penthouse furnished." He glanced around the room, taking in the bed (the sole piece of furniture in the entire house) and the piles of book spilling all over the floor. Prior to this, Midoya had been living in a different penthouse in the same building. She had moved to this one to escape him because she had thought he was trying to kill her. It was a horrible misunderstanding that had taken a few explosions, near death, and awesome sex to resolve. Just a few more of the key ingredients essential for a healthy and normal relationship.

"Mmm," Midoya murmured, and pressed her face against his neck. "We can do it today. I don't have anything on till the evening when I have to meet Sally Temple." She smiled. "I put aside most of three days to deal with the problem that is you, my violent, fearsome Kuroro."

"I am flattered," Kuroro told her. He paused for a while then questioned, "We? I'm helping you move?"

"Since you are the reason I moved, yes, 'we'," Midoya replied, and he could feel her smiling against his skin. "It shouldn't take too long. It's just a matter of moving the furniture over from my old place. Lucy will be happy to help."

"Why don't you just move back to your old place?" Kuroro suggested. "It would save you a lot of trouble."

"It will cause more trouble, you mean, since I've already sold it to another powerful and rich Hunter named Nicole. She is very possessive and obsessive, and quite paranoid about most things. Having to buy the apartment back from her will just result in a lot of… fires. Again. Just like when I sold her the apartment. I thought it would be funny if you tried going there and ran up into her instead. She's… well… odd. Unusual. Quite a sweet young lady when she isn't busy being an arsonist." Midoya yawned. "Besides, I like my new place. The piping is less faulty."

"Alright," Kuroro said with a shrug. "I'll help you. But you'll owe me a favour."

"Petty, petty," Midoya scolded, though her smile told him she was only teasing. "We should get up, huh?"

"Sometime in the future, that would be a good idea, yes," Kuroro agreed, pulling her closer to him and burying his nose in her hair. "But I'm feeling lazy so we should put that off till later."

"Mmm," Midoya hummed and relaxed in his embrace. "What do you think, by the way, about what Pariston said?"

"Ah." Kuroro thought back to the night before when Pariston had interrupted them during sex with his proposal: to bring Midoya to the Dark Continents, the forbidden lands beyond the world that was theirs. Though Pariston hadn't stayed long, what he had said had distracted Midoya enough that she hadn't been in the mood for sex after. That was just plain disappointing given how she had willingly donned a collar for him that night. Since that was all Pariston's fault, Kuroro felt no qualms in declaring, "I don't trust him."

"But of course, dear. Neither do I."

"Though I must admit the prospect of exploring the Dark Continent is… alluring."

"It'll either be a great adventure or a massive disappointment, as exploring new worlds tend to be." He felt Midoya shift slightly, probably to take pressure off broken bones. "And there's Netero's son." She paused. "I never knew he had a son, which doesn't say much since Netero knows me well and thus knows to keep anyone he has any fondness for away from me. Still, it is weird I've never even heard of his existence before. I wonder if the man is truly who he says he is."

"Why wouldn't he be?" Kuroro asked curiously.

"Well, I can't imagine Netero having sex. He's too… too spiritual for that. Presumably sex is necessary for babies to be made. Of course it is possible to clone himself, I suppose, but Netero is fairly old-school when it comes to things like this."

"Oh." Though Kuroro had never met the man in person before, he had seen him in a video addressed to Midoya and the Zodiacs, and his impression was that of a charismatic, powerful, and bat-shit crazy leader. Not someone necessarily particularly spiritual in the way most people would understand the word, but… transcendental, he supposed. Someone who had moved to a stage beyond the physical body. "I suppose you are right." He regarded the top of Midoya's head thoughtfully. "You seem more interested in this 'son' than the Dark Continent."

Midoya chuckled but didn't reply. "Let's get up," she said instead, sitting up and stretching carefully to avoid breaking Machi's Nen threads which were holding her bones together. "Pariston can wait for an answer from me. On the other hand, I have about a ton of books lying on my floor and I believe they will do better sitting on shelves."

"They will," Kuroro agreed, since he didn't like dog-ears in his books as much as Midoya seemed to given the abhorrent way she treats them. "A quick shower and breakfast seems in place. Do you have anything edible here?"

"Just some instant noodles, canned tuna and a few bars of chocolate."

"I said 'edible', Midoya." Kuroro mock-frowned at her and she laughed. "I'll get some groceries after we shower and make us something that actually contains more nutritional value than a plastic bag."

"Picky," Midoya said fondly. "But, since you have the unique ability to make healthy food taste delicious, I shall go along with it. Shall we take a shower then?"

"Together?"

"It saves water."

"And you will wear the collar?" Kuroro asked hopefully.

Midoya gave him a look. "You wouldn't stop asking till I do, will you?"

"Of course I will," Kuroro said cheerfully. "I just wouldn't make breakfast for you." He smiled faintly. "I'm planning on making chicken pie. You know I make a very good chicken pie."

"You make a very good everything dear." Midoya's smile turned seductive as she slinked towards the bathroom. "Alright. Just for today, I shall give in to your not entirely unreasonable whims. But you're the one washing up after we're done."

So it was that after a pleasant shower which took slightly longer than usual thanks to Kuroro's sudden and probably unhealthy obsession with what she was wearing, Midoya found herself standing in her old penthouse, looking around at her old furniture and wondering how the hell she had managed to accumulate so much rubbish in the years she lived there. It wasn't like she bought a lot of things; with her lifestyle as it was, her possessions tended to get destroyed more often than not. Yet here she was, looking at the pile of things that were her belongings and trying to remember why on earth she had bought that many copies of Logic of Sense in the first place.

"Well, this is going to take longer than expected," Midoya mused resignedly. "Never knew my house was that big or contained that many things."

But then, despite her natural tendency towards messiness, she did run half the red-light district in York Shin, and surely clearing up her old apartment couldn't be more difficult than that? All she needed to do was divide her belongings into what she wanted to keep and what she wanted to toss, right? That should be easy. There was some space in her bedroom since her bed was no longer in it. So, things she wanted to keep will go into the left side of the room and things she wanted to toss should go into the right. Easy.

Half an hour later found her utterly wrong.

Standing at the entrance of her old bedroom, Midoya glanced around it and knew immediately that she was doing something wrong. Even though all she had done was go through her remaining DVD collection and her books (which were the items most of her money went into), the left side of her room was stacked from wall to ceiling while there was nothing on the right side.

"I may have eight copies of Logic of Sense but they're all different. Surely I can't toss all of them away," she had thought. Evidently that was a mentality that was highly detrimental to the process of housekeeping, so she had to start all over again.

Frowning severely at the offending copies, Midoya picked them up, sat them on the floor before her, and tried to decide which copy she wanted to keep. It wasn't that easy. This copy had a commentary by the editor, quite a bright mind himself though not quite as well-known, but this other copy had another commentary by a different editor who was equally intelligent and perhaps funnier. And this copy didn't have a commentary, but it had a picture of a cat on it, and what a sweet darling that cat was. Ah, so that was how she ended up with eight copies of the exact same book.

Finally, Midoya decided to just close her eyes and grabbed a book at random. Unfortunately, when she shut her eyes, she realised that she had unintentionally memorised exactly where each book lay. Having a photographic memory was not really all it was made out to be.

Evidently the books were going to require a second opinion from Kuroro. With his cold, practical personality, she knew she could depend on him to destroy the books that she shouldn't be keeping. Either that, or she could just give him the books she didn't want. She had a sneaky feeling that somewhere in Meteor City was a large, large building stocked with Kuroro's books. He did steal a lot of them and he hardly ever sold any. It might be fun trying to get him to bring her to that place… but that could wait. As for now… Midoya whipped out her phone and dialled his number.

"Kuroro."

"Dear," Midoya said fondly as she shuffled the books in front of her idly, "I can't decide which copy of Logic of Sense to throw."

"Which are the ones you have?"

"Every single edition in print."

"That can't be, dear. That's eight editions."

"Exactly."

"Really? Why do you have… never mind, I'm sure I wouldn't understand. Keep the third edition."

"Why?"

"Because I wrote the introduction to that edition so I know it is a lot more coherent and intelligent than the introductions to all the other editions."

"Oh." Midoya blinked and looked at the book in question (intelligent but not well-known). "You're Stephen Edison? Why that name?"

"It's taken from Stephen Hawking and Thomas Edison of course."

"Yes, I realised. But why use those two names for a book called Logic of Sense."

"Because it isn't logical or sensible to do so."

"Ah. Funny."

"Is there anything else? I'm still shoplifting at the grocery store, and it's generally easier to do that when I'm not talking to you on the phone."

"Well." Midoya glanced at her pile of books. "I have another two hundred or so titles to go through."

"And how many books in total?"

"Oh… not that many. About… five hundred and fifty-six books."

"Goodness, Midoya, I can't help you sort out the disastrous results of your idiosyncrasies now. If I do it now, by the time I get back, it'll be lunch time."

"Alright, alright. I'll leave it till after breakfast. Go back to enjoying yourself."

"Yes. Later."

"Later."

On to her clothes then. That should be easier. Most of her clothes barely survived a month before getting torn, bloodied and basically made un-wearable. Surely she wouldn't be too attached to her clothes?

Ten minutes later, Midoya looked at the barren right side of her room and muttered, "But I do need five black slacks. I wear them all the time; they're acceptable in most situations, comfortable and bloodstains don't show on them. And I don't always get to do the laundry so I need more than one pair. And… ah screw it." With a ruthlessness more befitting of June than Midoya, she tossed two of the oldest pairs into the right side of the room. Then she swapped one pair for a newer but less comfortable one. Because she didn't like to think of herself as an ageist person. Ageism is a terrible thing. Terrible.

There. Progress. That perked her up considerably, and once she started, it was easier to just let go. "This goes, this goes and this goes," Midoya said with great satisfaction as she simply started tossing items she hadn't touched in more than a month into the Throw-Away Corner. "I am the paragon of self-control," she declared triumphantly when the pile was finally neatly sorted.

Pleased with herself, Midoya next ventured into the living room and examined the emptied shelves. Her initial plan had been to just move everything over to her new place, but on closer inspection, some of the shelves seemed rather worn and on the verge of breaking. That might be because she had a tendency to overload her shelves with heavy items – like guns. Very heavy, those. Especially when the guns were rocket launchers. Or canons. Or missiles. Was that her missing nuclear bomb at the back of that shelf? Nope. It was just a standard incendiary bomb. Pity. Where on earth did that missile go to anyway?

Either way, it probably would be nice to get some new shelves. Maybe she could drag Kuroro along since he was always complaining about the clashing colours of her old room. Goodness, why was she dragging Kuroro into everything? She was normally not this clingy. Evidently his sweet and tear-wrenchingly romantic gesture of blowing up her brothel had inspired a great deal of domestic bliss in her. She probably needed to correct that by doing something immoral and decadent to Kuroro tonight – something with handcuffs perhaps or blindfolds. There were some positive sides to having extra sensitive senses…

A sudden presence flaring up behind her took her entirely by surprise. It wasn't because she hadn't realised there was someone behind her. She was surprised because though she had caught the sound of someone in Zetsu climbing up the side of her building for a while now, she had honestly not thought it would be him.

"Hello," she said, smiling warmly at the young man in a suit, "it's good to see you again, Kurapika."

She looked surprised, which just a year back would have made Kurapika feel pleased and probably just a little smug. But that was before a year of working as the bodyguard of a mafia boss had turned him into what she saw now: a young man with neatly-styled blonde hair and cold, black eyes in a dark, ill-fitting suit. Now, seeing her look surprised just made him think of how that was a sign of weakness. One can never afford to be taken by surprise in this harsh world.

Now her eyes were roving over him, and he saw her abstract information from his appearance and log it into her mental database. It was, in hindsight, something she had done when they'd first met, but he hadn't noticed it then. He, in turn, took her in. She was wearing a black bathrobe and no makeup at all. The acne on her face looked just as bad as he remembered, and she looked older, tired. Something about the fine lines around her eyes that hadn't been there the last time he saw her. By the state of the house, it seemed like she was moving. That was good; he had just caught her in time.

For though Kurapika had known she was living here since not long after they first met, this was the first time he had felt compelled to find her. Well, not the first time. That was when he had found out she was dating Kuroro Lucifer. The news had been all over the Hunter website shortly after Netero's death. That moment had been one of shock and utter betrayal. She had lied about everything. She had lied about not knowing Kuroro Lucifer, about capturing him, about everything. He knew now that she must have been the one who helped Kuroro Lucifer escape the HA building, though he couldn't even begin to fathom why she had arrested him in the first place. Kurapika had been furious. He had wanted to find her and kill her (or at least yell angrily at her). But that wouldn't do because he had also found out that she was June Kito, honourary mafia, and killing her (or yelling at her) would destabilise the position he had fought so hard to get.

Then just a few months later, things changed. Accessing the file labelled 'Hall of Shame' had shown Kuroro Lucifer's fake corpse face at the end of a long line of dead boyfriends. Kurapika had been told that they hadn't been able to find a more updated picture of the Spider; besides, since all the other pictures of Midoya's boyfriends were post-mortem, the Zodiacs had thought they might as well do the same for Kuroro Lucifer. Either way, he discovered she was no longer together with the Spider. That turned her into a potential information source. If he now knew for sure that she was no longer dating Kuroro Lucifer, he could come to her for information. It was obvious she knew him a lot more intimately than she had admitted, and that meant she knew his secrets, his powers, things that would help bring the Spider to complete annihilation.

But first, there was one thing he had to confirm.

"Are you a Spider?" he asked, bringing his hand up to show the chains there. A subtle threat and – the chains started to vibrate – a not so subtle threat.

She met his eyes calmly. "No dear, of course not," she said simply, and he was tempted to trust her, but he couldn't. Not after he had discovered what a good liar she was.

"Prove it," he said, his eyes glowing red behind his contacts.

Her eyebrow went up and her lips quirked in an ironic smile. "You have grown in the last couple of months," she noted. "Quite frankly, I'm not sure I like the direction you've grown in."

Neither did he, but that was beside the point. "Prove it," he repeated, letting his chains float to life.

She didn't even bother to look threatened. "No," she replied calmly. "I will not strip for you, boy. I don't see any reason why I need to prove anything to you either." Her eyes fixed on him, firm but not aggressive. "You're in my house. Well, it will be mine at least for today, and if you're in my house, you are my guest. If you want me to treat you as one then act the part. For your information, I strongly recommend you remain in my good books. The window is right behind you and I assure you, I can kick you out of it before you can even begin to unleash your chains on me."

For a moment, Kurapika hesitated. But the truth was, he had asked, not to prove her credentials, but to know for sure if he could use Chain Jail on her. Apparently, he would have to err on the side of caution and assume she wasn't a Spider.

Slowly, Kurapika lowered his hand until it hung by his side. The smile, warm and inviting, returned to her face. "Thank you, dear," she said and started to walk towards him.

Kurapika jerked in alarm. "Stay ba…" he started to say, but her arms wrapped around him and muffled his protest.

"Hello dear!" she beamed. "Oh, it is so good to see you again. Let me take a look at you. Oh! You look almost the same as the last time I saw you, just with a little more dark circles there. Have you been sleeping well? Ah, I expect not. Working for the Nostrad family is an absolute bitch, isn't it?" Smiling brightly, she ruffled his hair. "But, you're still as cute as a button. I'm so jealous of you!"

"Wha…?" Kurapika gaped, blinking confusedly at her and trying to smooth his hair back down at the same time. "What?"

Her eyes twinkled. "Take a sit," she said, manoeuvring him expertly onto a hideous orange couch. "Would you like some water?"

"Uh… yes please," Kurapika replied automatically then blinked again. "Wait a minute!" He shot to his feet as she disappeared into the kitchen. "I have questions for you!"

"Of course you do, dear, of course you do," she said indulgently, appearing with a glass of water. "I can certainly imagine why you're here. Oh, the suit looks… good on you, I suppose, since you have the benefit of boyish good looks on your side. You do look the proper mafia thug, though I must said you could have chosen a much better cut. The straight cut just makes you look like a little boy wearing his father's clothes. On the other hand, I can't imagine you wearing those skinny-cut suits that are so popular these days. Hmm… come to think of it, I am definitely of the opinion that you ethnic outfits looked better. They bring out your natural colouring more."

Frustration and confusion fought their way over Kurapika's mind, a chaos of deep hatred for the Spiders and their allies, the respect and admiration he had for Midoya when she had saved the Hunter Association HQ from Raven, and a mash-up of half-listened fashion advice forced onto him by Neon Nostrad. He had so many things he wanted to say and no idea where to begin. So he decided to go with his primary grudge with this woman. "You lied to me," he snapped sharply.

"About the suit?"

"Forget the stupid suit!" Kurapika shouted, firmer in his declaration now that he had a direction to go in. "You lied about Kuroro Lucifer! About the Spider! Your entire story about… arresting him… was bullshit!" Breathing hard, he lifted his chin defiantly and glared at her, half-willing her to deny it so he could continue being outraged by her actions.

Now it was her turn to blink. Frowning, she tapped a finger against her chin as she thought. "Oh yes, I did," she said, her expression brightening up with remembrance. "Oh, of course! It was the day we fought that poor man with the strange… something about explosives at any rate… oh, what was his name again? Some kind of bird… Magpie? Bluebird? Passer domesticus? Something of that sort. Anyway, you know who I mean. Yes, of course I lied about Kuroro and the Spider."

Desire thwarted, Kurapika could only stare in disbelief at her, his face flushing with rage. "Aren't you feeling the least bit guilty about it?" he demanded furiously. "You lied to me. You misled me. You made me think you are better than you truly are. Don't you feel just the slightest bit bad about it?"

"What a question." Her head tilted at him. "No dear, I don't." She smiled disarmingly. "It was necessary of course. You can understand why I wouldn't want to tell the boy who managed to kill one of the infamous Ryodan members that I'm dating their Dancho. That would just be putting my own life in danger, which is plain silly. Which idiot would tell the truth in a situation like that?"

"Th…" Kurapika's voice died off in his throat as he struggled not to scream at her. "That is…"

"Entirely rational," she pointed out, eyebrow raised, as she sipped water from a glass of her own. "Don't be unreasonable, dear. It's unbecoming of you. You do have such a smart and logical brain after all. But enough about the past; it's all so boring, the past. Anything that can't be changed tends to be so. Why are you here now? From your greeting, I assume this isn't a social visit. Well, if you had been someone else, I would have assumed it was, but since it is you, I presume asking me to strip has very little to do with how much you have missed me."

"No. It's not…" Kurapika shook his head, shoving his frustration and anger at her aside. "Like I said, I have questions for you."

She smiled. "Go ahead."

"Tell me about Kuroro Lucifer and the Spider," Kurapika said fiercely. "Tell me all their secrets, all their powers."

Her lips pursed. "And why would I do that?" she asked, bemused. "You know how I stand with Kuroro now."

"So I can kill them," Kurapika told her bluntly. "And don't bother pretending. I know you broke up with him; I heard stories that you betrayed them, sold them out to the mafia. Why, I do not know. What I do know is this: they're going to come for you, and their revenge wouldn't be pretty. You've seen it; you've seen what they did to the auctions the last time they were in town. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain if I kill them before they come for you. It is to your advantage to let me know everything you know about them."

"Oh." Her eyes regarded him, and there was a strange look on her face that Kurapika didn't like. Her phone rang. She picked it up and glanced at it, but Kurapika refused to let her distract him.

"Tell me," he said insistently, leaning towards her, forcing her to look at him instead of her phone. "Tell me. Midoya. Tell me. Please. If there's still anything good left in your soul. Tell me"

Her face was still, but he thought he saw the briefest flicker of hesitation in her eyes so he reached over and grabbed her hand roughly.

"Tell me," he half-pleaded. "You owe it to me. Please."

"Kurapika," she said finally. "Putting your question aside first, there is something that I should probably tell you. Damn my new policy of honest dishonesty."

"What?" Kurapika asked, his nerves thrumming with tension. "What is it?"

"Well, that I am…" she started to say. "How should I put it?"

His nerve broke. "Damn it! Just tell me!" he shouted, leaping to his feet agitatedly.

And at that exact same moment, Kuroro Lucifer walked in through the window wearing a pink, frilly apron.

Explosions are fun. Killing people is fun. Rampaging through black market auctions is very fun. Kuroro Lucifer knew all that because he did those and more on a monthly basis (sometimes weekly if he was bored). Even after years of scheming devious, intricate plans or simply blowing things up, he was still very much attracted to his career choice. That being said, Kuroro was still pleased to know that his childhood hobby of shoplifting hadn't lost its thrill for him.

Striding down the aisles of the upscale grocery Midoya normally shopped at and slipping whatever he wanted into Fun Fun Cloth was surprisingly pleasant. Not, perhaps, in the same way as successfully killing the Ten Godfathers. It was more the pleasure of a daily ritual than anything else.

Besides, when you don't have to think about cost, shopping is downright enjoyable.

After stealing enough food to last them the entire day, Kuroro made sure to semi-flirt with the shop-owner (so she wouldn't kick him out even though he always appeared to buy nothing from her shop) and then left for Midoya's new penthouse.

Upon arriving there, he wasn't surprised to find she wasn't in. He was aware that she knew how long he would take to get the ingredients for breakfast and thus would have probably set off to do something else that required her attention. That, given her phone call to him about her inability to not buy books just because they have a pretty cover or a different editor, was most likely her old penthouse, where she was, in all probability, at the present, trying to sort out the logistics of moving over.

Well, no matter; it would probably take him some time close to half an hour to prepare the ingredients and another half an hour to actually bake the thing. He could just call her once he was done. With that thought in mind, Kuroro then settled down to actually making the pie.

As he started preparing the chicken, it occurred to him that at the moment, he only had one set of clothes (the ones he was wearing) and that baking a pie is a messy job. Rooting around in the kitchen cabinets produced a pink apron covered in white frills, frolicking cartoon puppies and bright yellow flowers. As he stared into the distance, trying and failing to envision Midoya in it, it occurred to him that the apron was new, unworn but not newly bought. In fact, judging from the receipt still stuffed in its packaging, she had bought it months ago, way before they had broken up and when he was still the primary user of her kitchen. Ergo, she had bought apron for him. And then she had made it a point to bring it over to her new penthouse from her old one because she knew he would eventually ask to use her kitchen.

Rolling his eyes at her incomprehensible sense of humour, Kuroro unabashedly donned the silly thing and set about making breakfast. It wasn't like anyone here hadn't seen him in a worse state before. Besides, he wasn't the slightest bit insecure in his masculinity at all. Being able to bash in a world champion heavy-weight boxer's skull with one's aura does a lot for one's self-confidence.

So, half an hour later found Kuroro standing in Midoya's kitchen in aforementioned apron, with flour on his fingers and cheeks, and a satisfied look on his face. The pie was now sitting in the oven and they still had forty minutes to wait – enough for another round of morning sex. Flipping open his phone, he dialled Midoya's number and waited. To his surprise, she didn't pick up. There couldn't be anything that distracting in her flat that she would ignore his call. Moreover, she was one of the most talented multi-tasker Kuroro had ever met. It didn't make sense that she wouldn't be able to reorganise her books, catalogue her furniture, paint her nails and talk to him on the phone at the same time.

With no small degree of discomfort, Kuroro remembered that the last time he hadn't been able to reach Midoya immediately was when she was avoiding him. But that shouldn't be the case now. All misunderstandings have been cleared, all doubts put to rest, and Kuroro knew Midoya wasn't the kind to leave people hanging. If she was leaving him again, she would have told him. Something else was distracting her then.

No matter. Her old penthouse was just in the next wing. It would only take him a few seconds to pop by and get her. Easy.

At least that was what he thought until he climbed in through the window and found the chain-user sitting on his couch.

For a moment, the two of them stared in utter disbelief at each other across the span of Midoya's penthouse. The exact same questions flittered across their minds at the exact same instance: What is he doing here? How did he get here? Why he is wearing that?

Then, they decided at the exact same instance that these questions were really not that important. The both of them leapt into action, Kuroro whipping out his book and Kurapika summoning his chains.

"Spider!" the young blonde swore, his eyes visibly blazing red even behind his dark contacts.

"Chain-user," Kuroro replied coldly, his eyes narrowed.

The chain-user snarled a wordless sound of pure fury and leapt off the couch, drawing his arm back to whip the chain around Kuroro. At the same instance, Kuroro materialised his poisonous katana and took two quick steps forward, ready to dodge under the chain and make the bastard rot.

Midoya unexpectedly appeared between the two of them, her Nen just a thin barrier of calmness against her skin. "Stop," she said calmly, and the pure authority in her voice made the both of them jerk back like dogs on a leash.

"What is he doing here?" the both of them shouted at the same time and Midoya sighed.

"I can explain, but first, hush," she said gently and Kuroro saw the chain-user's mouth clamp shut around what would have been a spew of angry and probably rude words – that uncultured bastard. "Kurapika, what I was trying to tell you before this was that Kuroro and I have just gotten back together… less than twelve hours ago, and since he is my lover again, I would appreciate you not using your chain on him. It was a real trial getting rid of it the last time. Kuroro, Kurapika is my guest, so put your sword away, please. It's not polite to make my guest's body rot away."

"Why is he your guest?" Kuroro demanded before the chain-user could speak up. "He killed Ubogin and Pakunoda. He's my enemy."

"Well yes…"

"And since I'm your lover, my enemy is your enemy. You're supposed to help me kill him."

"Darling, you know we've never ever had a policy like that between us."

"No better time to start than the present."

"That is impossible. You know that if I treat all your enemies as my enemies, I would have to kill nine out of ten of my business associates. Don't be childish here."

"I'm not being…"

Evidently, the chain-user wasn't used to being ignored, because he interrupted them rudely. "You are back together with him again?" he growled, his voice low and furious. "Are you insane? Have you no taste or decency? That man is a criminal!"

"As am I. Well, sometimes at least," Midoya said patiently. "Please, Kurapika…"

"You are a Blacklist Hunter! You should be arresting him!"

Kuroro looked down his nose at the young man who was shaking with rage. "If you think you can order Midoya about, you are going to be sorely disappointed," he said coldly. "Midoya, isn't he being a little rude for a guest? Don't you feel the slightest urge to end his life? It really wouldn't hurt to kill him or maim him. I can finish him off for you if you prefer it that way."

"Kuroro, please don't make things worse here. I'm…"

"Wouldn't hurt to kill me?" the chain-user fixed Kuroro with a red-hot glare. "Well your death will benefit the world, murderer!"

"Kurapika, no name-calling…"

"I would say the same back to you, murderer."

"Oh dear, I should probably just wait in the kitchen until the bloodshed is over."

"I am not a murderer!" Red light flashed through the eyes and Kuroro sneered openly at him.

"You murdered my Spiders, bound them to your will and forced them to betray my Ryodan or die a horrible and gruesome death," he said sharply. "Don't pretend you're superior to me."

"Why you…!"

Violence would have been the consequence of that if Midoya's Nen hadn't flashed like a warning flare. "Hush," Midoya repeated. "The both of you, hush. Now."

"Midoya..." the both of them said at the same time but Midoya held up a hand. There was something in her manner that made Kuroro cease immediately.

"What is it?" Kuroro asked, letting the sword droop slightly. He saw the chain-user shift, probably to take advantage of his lowering of his guard, so he raised the sword again and fixed the younger man with a stern glare. "Midoya?" Slowly, he moved until he was standing next to her. Because she was his. Just because she was being nice to the chain-user didn't mean she was on his side.

"Do you feel that?" Midoya asked, her forehead crinkling with concentration. "There's something… odd in this room."

"You mean him?" Kuroro and Kurapika said at the same time then glared at each other.

"Be serious," Midoya scolded, and she didn't sound like she was joking at all. "There's something wrong here. And why does it feel so familiar? It feels almost like…"

But they never found out what she felt, because in the next instant, the entire world turned white and all three of them fell to the ground with heavy thuds. Face down, Kuroro stared at Midoya's floor in shock. What had just happened? For a moment, it had felt like all the energy in his body had been drained out of him, like he had been close to fainting. His mind had blacked out entirely for perhaps all of two seconds, so perhaps he had fainted. But now he felt perfectly fine – not that he trusted himself to know if that was really the case. Over the years, he had grown so accustomed to pain that he didn't always feel it when it's there.

Cautiously, Kuroro lifted his head and looked around. The first thing he noticed was that the chain-user was gone. There were two explanations for that, neither of which Kuroro liked. Either way, there seemed to be no immediate threat, so Kuroro got onto his knees, still looking around warily. To his surprise, a thick, dense fog seemed to have rolled into the penthouse. It wasn't entirely impenetrable. He could see clearly up to ten feet, but anything further than that became increasingly blurry and faded. As far as he could tell, the fog seemed to be genuine, harmless fog, smelling more of damp and mildew than any potentially harmful chemicals. But then how did it get up here in the first place? York Shin was inclined to rain but not fog. Besides, they were fifty stories up. Did fog even go that high? "Midoya, are you seeing what I'm seeing? Something's gone wrong. Did you see what happened?" he asked the pile of black robes on the floor. There was no response. "Midoya?"

Frowning, Kuroro reached over to touch her arm – and grabbed onto an empty sleeve. Startled, he started patting the robe until he felt something warm and soft beneath.

"Midoya," he muttered, shaking her. "Midoya, wake up. What's wrong with you?"

A soft voice murmured something back at him - a voice that didn't sound the slightest bit like Midoya's. It was pitched too high, for one, and the quality was… different. Midoya always sounded confident, poised and articulate. This voice held hesitation and just the slightest edge of uncertainty. "Who is it?' the voice said so softly Kuroro had to strain to hear it (and he had super-sensitive hearing).

"That should be my question," Kuroro replied coldly, gripping what felt like am arm and dragging the person up. "Who the hell are…" The question died on his lips when he found himself holding a little girl, probably only four or five years old, wearing a hospital gown. She was tiny, skinny and as cold as ice.

And she looked exactly like Midoya.

"Have you ever seen an MRI scan of the human brain? It's quite unlike actually seeing the brain nestled in an opened skull. The actual brain, the real, physical brain, has such a presence. You look at it and you see it in its singularity. Its 'one-ness' makes it so easy to define: pink, folded, divided into left and right. The brain seen through the machine though is different. All one sees are shapes and colours, darks and lights, patches and spaces – almost as if our skulls are empty places filled with fog."

–"The Inaccessible Unconscious" –

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter so far! As I was writing it, I was painfully aware that I was introducing a lot of clichés into this chapter (a character who turns into a child etc), but I promise that my story will not be clichéd. Double, triple promise. Also, I'm substituting those quotes above for the Trivial section. This is due to the more serious nature of this story. The Trivials started sounding almost frivolous with the story being as serious as it is, so quotes we will have instead.

Please leave a review if you have time! Till next week!