A/N: So...how are my precious readers fairing? Do you hate me now? Do you?! Well I accept all you complaints and hatred with open arms. School started a month ago and a lot of work was assigned, especially with English class. But then Hunter x Hunter 2011 got super exciting and I just had to had to write again! Anyway, at this point of the story, I confused myself and so I felt like I should remind you readers too.

Kuroro is a heartless bastard that loves nobody! Not even himself (I think). But that's why fangirls love him so much. With that being said, there's not much going on in this chapter.

And for the first time, a shout out to the reviewers because I can and I should! Thank you to Verona. Gu, Lazy Gaga, MARYLOVER, Shizuka03 for making me smile and encouraging me!

EDIT: April 24, 2013

GLITCHED: Fickle by Right

The sky was gloomy behind showering clouds. This was the first rainfall of the summer and coincidentally, this weather correctly depicted my current mood.

My state of melancholy began from a phone call that was at first the bringing of good news, but became something not befitting the adjective with the announcement of a certain name. One that I was not entirely fond of.

~x~

"Hello?" I monotonously answered.

"Hey, Danchou. It's me. I found the box you were looking for," the usual calm and collected voice of my trusted subordinate reported with righteous confidence.

I nodded with a half-smile at her unerring work efficiency. "Good work, Machi. Then to bring it over—"

"Actually, Danchou, he said he will take it over since he has business there," Machi cut me the slack of my musing with her calm interjection.

I stared steadily down at my hand, batting my eyes at the brow-raise worthy statement. Firmly, I repeated, "He?"

There was a quiet grunt of apprehensive agreement before she restated with words, "Hisoka will."

She tasted the unreliable feel to that name and quickly added, "Should I stop him?"

I remained silent for a well thought out second and weighed the name beside the box and its content. With a stiff quietness to my voice, I approved. "It's fine. Let him."

~x~

I had come to the epiphany that Hisoka was a rebel of the norm after working in an environment with his abnormal work habits and disturbing personal characteristics for one too many months. He had always been a rather wavy character—a stark contrast of a common straight man. Even his hobbies that he so proudly exhibited were without a doubt kissing the boundaries of criminal. But I ignored his extreme ways of lifestyle with a mask of ignorance as long as he worked efficiently—and one would be surprised to know of Hisoka's immense network. A bit of white lies and under the table business did not bother me. If anything, that would be my forte. But I must clearly point out that I was intelligently more discreet about it than Hisoka. And I think that mattered a lot.

I leaned into the chipped wooden bench and dropped the hardcover novel down on my lap. It was close to noon, the promised time of his arrival and the ship was barely on the tangent of the horizon. My erratic attention attached itself to the slowly docking humble-sized ship that carried with it a few regular vacationists.

As the meek looking little ship safely finished docking at the harbour at the east end of the Mineral Beach, the single-digit passengers marched out onto the planks of the port. I spotted the eccentric man of my interest clad in his equally eccentric outfit. Unexpected though, was the lanky man with opaque deadpan eyes that stalked behind him with an even light pace. Notable by his long black flowing hair, I was soon able to identify the man as the oldest son of the blacksmith family, Illumi Zoldyck.

Such a combination was both unexpected yet strangely fitting. My impression of the oldest Zoldyck son was a man that was more than eager to manipulate people for his own personal benefits, and so because of this speculation I kept my distance. But even to expand his intellectual network, to be willingly associated with Hisoka in such public premises meant this son must be quite the enigmatic figure himself. I however, was in no position to be making such assumptions, albeit accurate, considering my current position.

But putting that aside, I stood up and waited as Hisoka approached me with a smug expression on his face.

"Hey," he greeted me after throwing one of his Joker cards that was aimed at my eye with impeccable precision. Naturally, I managed to catch it before it made contact.

I nodded in response and immediately glanced at the box he held in his hand so carelessly. That irked me. This was another reason why I did not want Hisoka put for this job.

"Oh. You wanted this," he said with a coy tone of voice. His eyes as always were in their squinted form, observing me.

"Yes." I took the box from his offering hand and inspected the contents in a business-like fashion. Nodding in approval, I said with my business voice retained, "Good work."

Then from behind Hisoka, the Zoldyck grunted a languid goodbye and turned to head back into town as Hisoka waved and chirped, "Thanks for the help as always."

While I watched their short exchange, I was suddenly curious about Hisoka's business here. And even if it was unlike me, I chose to ask for it somewhat worried me. "What is your business here, Hisoka?"

He grinned at me with his usual taunting eyes, and knowing exactly where I was coming from, he assured, "It's not business involved, really. Just something personal this time. I discovered a very promising new fruit. However this time he's not ripe enough to relish yet."

That answer had me at a loss for words in a way that made my hollow stare that penetrated his questioning gaze more meaningful than it held merit for. That last sentence that came out of his mouth implicated a crime that would cause mothers endless grief.

Hisoka produced a soft chuckle and leaned closer toward me, swaying his hips ever so disturbingly. "Don't worry. It's not the kid you bother with. Even though stealing the ripening fruits from other people's palms taste exceptionally better, I think this time I'll have fun nurturing one myself."

I hummed without a hint of emotion as I wondered to myself just how old this "fruit" of his was. Not that I particularly wanted a vocal answer for that thought.

With my lack of reply, Hisoka chose to instead wander his eyes along my figure with an evil kind of lust melting from his gaze. I pretended not to notice his pinpoint scrutiny and without further ado, dismissed him. "You are dismissed."

~x~

I took the wooden box that I received from Hisoka into the back of my storage room and found a clean spot for it to fit snug in between rows of other valuables. I pried open the top of the enclosed box with a screwdriver and proceeded to take out the antique ceramic vase that felt velvet to the touch. I took a moment to admire the ivory blue hues of the eastern ceramic before I transferred it into a padded glass case on the second shelf. Taking a step back, I sighed in content, happy with my newest collection. Although it was for certain that I would end up selling the vase for triple its market price when I had marvelled enough and become bored.

The analog clock that ticked away in a corner of the storage room read an early afternoon time. Glancing around the room, I noted that there was not much to do, considering the rainy weather would prevent any customers from coming. Ergo, on rainy days, I usually closed the store and spent it as a day off.

Dusting my hands off, I exited the storage and locked the door before I rounded the corner and walked back to the counter. Retrieving my bag from under the counter, I pulled it over my shoulder and climbed up the winding stairs just to the left of the storage room up to my living quarters on the second floor.

Walking on the mahogany parquet that extended across the moderately sized living room which also played the role of my bedroom, I hung my bag on the coat hanger to my left and marched over to the faintly faded charcoal leather couch. There was no bed in this so called bedroom, except one long sofa and a smaller, rounder couch. I felt more comfortable sleeping on a couch than lying down on a bed. Besides, the worn dark grey colour of the couch held a special kind of cozy feeling that enchanted me every time.

I reclined into the cool leather surface and breathed a breath of satisfaction. Darting my attention up to the empty white ceiling above me, I felt like I could see myself as a soul that floated outside my body, burning the vivid image of my calm marble face that expressed nothing and my unclouded black eyes that looked at the ceiling with a distant interest into my retina.

But my real interest was in what Hisoka said this morning. No, actually, it wasn't exactly in what he said that interested me, but rather how his words twisted in my head and made an uncanny similarity to another topic. I liked to think of myself as a man who had absolute control in himself and issues that involved him. That alone should put me apart from Hisoka who walked around with an impulsive lust. But even still, the weird thought that I was something much like Hisoka nagged at the back of my mind. My one-sided dedication to invade and overthrow Kurapika's mindset had just a slight similarity in intention to Hisoka's. Of course, in reality I wasn't doing anything close to the extents Hisoka would go to release his sexual frustrations. The fact that what I was doing was still legal proved a lot for my case. And I had an inkling that Hisoka's victim was barely in his tens.

Not to mention I was doing this with the pure motive of easing my frequent boredom, and I would only go as far as mental infestation. I was not even thinking of being in physical contact with him in any way more than a teasing graze. That was a point I wanted to make clear, in case anyone was misunderstanding me.

I did not do romantic relationships. Attachments were a hassle and jealousy was annoying.

And as one could tell with my commitment toward my antique collections, I was fickle. Very fickle.

The tip of my pale lips crawled up into a foreshowing of my mastermind plans. I tapped my finger against the armrest of my favourite couch and closed my eyes as I freed my mind of its nagging.

Fine, I'll admit. In a way, I was crueler than the jester that was a walking world hazard. Still, I knew I wouldn't get bored of Kurapika until a long while, because the objective to invade his mind and infest it with myself was a game near impossible to beat. That was what intrigued me to begin with.

There was nothing I couldn't do if I wanted to, and this statement lived true in my twenty-four years of life.

Okay, so with the ending, we all know that this will 90% be angst. ;D I must say, writing angst is much more fun, and even though I suppose I suck at it, I will choose to do so. I don't even know if I can write fluff, because I haven't tried for ages.

Thank you for reading and reviews are appreciated~