A/N: Um...yeah hi. Remember me? I want to start this note off by saying there is no really good reason I have avoided posting the second chapter of this story up until now. Sure there was school, work, and a multitude of other things I could list. I could even lie to you and claim I have not updated because my computer broke...or something along those lines. But my computer did not break down, and I have always struggled with managing school, work, and my personal life.

To be blunt, I have not updated because I simply lost interest in writing.

I suppose I could attribute it to writer's block but even that does not seem like an attiquate explaination. Events occurred in my life that completely zapped my will to write, and the slow climb it took to posting this chapter is my way of "getting back on the horse." So to speak.

I wanted to take the time to thank the few who reviewed and Favorited/followed, and the very very few people that are still waiting for an update...bless you all, I do not think I would have stayed after a 6-month (has it already been six months?) hiatus. I have no words...sorry, truly I am.

Special thanks to Azile-san, and EsmeGalad for your reviews and critique! EsmeGalad in particular: I appreciate your thoughts and have taken your comment on lessening the use of adjectives to heart. I can absolutely see how such a thing might impede the story, and have attempted to make this chapter less wordy~

I appreciate your use of music theory to explain this to me as well haha, as a musician, it did help drive your point home. I have not idea if you are still reading, but I hope you are! I love helpful-criticism.

Above all however, my gratitude goes to Hellodie-Bunnie:

Your kind PM messages and motivating messages to "not give up" and continue the story are what actually inspired me to come back and update. I might have actually just filed this story under discontinued if it had not been for you. Thank you very much for your kind words and persistence! I need people like you in my life~!

I cannot guarantee that this chapter is any good, I do not feel it is, but I owe you guys something and will do my best to stop being such a perfectionist with my work in order to be able to post. Lord knows I will never finish this story if I keep scrutinizing every word I write...

Disclaimer: Don't own it, and with my lapses in updating my writing, I doubt I would be much better than the actual writer for HunterxHunter.

Kurapika idly flipped through the tome that lay splayed across his lap. It isn't often that he gets the chance to read anymore. Not since he started playing bodyguard for Nostrade's daughter.

And what a taxing job it was….

The Kurta boy was running on his third cup of coffee as it was; he had spent the last couple of days attending to the phone non-stop, salvaging investments, and working with several other of Light Nostrade's employee's to preserve his family's stock. The man seemed virtually incapable of stomaching work ever since he lost his trump card: Neon's psychic abilities. Of course he could care less about Nostrade's wealth that in itself, but it was imperative that Light Nostrade's wealth remain intact so Kurapika could outbid any greedy snob hell-bent on purchasing the eyes of his people.

He discreetly rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the back of his palm; covering his rare show of weariness by flipping a page from a well-worn book he had plucked off the top shelf of the library. Friday mornings were one of the few times Kurapika was not required to work, and he took the time to hang out with his fellow hunters in the Mansion's rather large library even if he did not particularly feel up to the task. Really, he was the leader of the group, and had no obligation to show up every Friday (as had oddly become the unspoken agreement between the hunters).It also was not wise to indulge so freely in such tentative friendship - and in Senritsu's case...some other ties that bound them Kurapika could not readily identify- and his time would really be much better spent working to scour Nostrade's connections for any sign of his clan's scarlet eyes…..yet..

You should take better care of yourself.

Senritsu's words repeated in his mind like a whisper from a breeze

, and not for the first time Kurapika wondered at the control such a small and meek girl had on his actions. It was ridiculous really. He was a Kurta for godsakes. Kurta did not bend their will in favor of pleasing short girls, who just happened to be hunters, and had a rather lovely voice…

Kurapika shook his head from side to side furiously, blond locks bobbing around his paling features. That was the third time this week the music hunter had inhabited his thoughts to distracting proportions.

"Aw Kurapika, come on, the one day you get the day off from running the company, along with setting up security, and you spend it reading?" Said Basho, briefly looking up from his laptop screen to deliver his disappointed glare dutifully.

Kurapika raised one perfectly "manicured" eyebrow (because he so obviously had so much time on his hands to go to a damn salon, Basho you little shit) as he allowed his gaze to lift from the old crinkled pages of his book. How ironic coming from the haiku fanatic.

"I seem to recall finding you reading a collection of Matsuo Basho's works yesterday."

"...Touche." Basho blinked, a hard furrow beginning to form on his face- evidence of his annoyance with Kurapika's obvious dodge. Still, the jibe towards Basho's fascination with his namesake did the trick, and the blacklist hunter's face reddens in embarrassment. Hm. Effective. Kurapika stores that information away for future reference.

However, just as suddenly as the embarrassment had appeared on his face, it was gone in the next second. Basho whipped his head up, with a mischievous glint in his eye, and smirked. "Sure kid, I spend a lot of time reading poetry, but not in my free time! There is a little thing called talking to people we human beings like to do every once in awhile. Really loosens up the nerves, and seems to work wonders on the ladies."

Kurapika bristles at this. It always came down to..

"- funny how just talking to women gives you the best results…..right Kurapika?" The muscled hunter said, shamelessly eyeing the small brunette sitting with her back facing them at the far corner of the library. A book that looked much too large for her small frame was being balanced precariously on her too small right knee as she visibly strained from the weight of the …encyclopedia was it? Kurapika adored literature whenever he could spare the time to indulge himself in the world of knowledge and imaginative splendor, but Senritsu was more inclined towards the musical arts, and an encyclopedia seemed an odd starting point for a music specialist sporting an adorably mussed tangle of chestnut hair-

Kurapika's eyes widened as he quickly shifted his attention away from the music hunter. Attempting a nonchalant approach, the Kurta slyly peeked one grey eye up towards the would-be poet next to him, gauging for a reaction of any kind..

…..Maybe Basho had not seen.

Of course, because lady luck is a hapless bitch (and oh, you can bet Mama Kurta would not approve of her boy's sass towards celestial deities), and Kurapika is the poster child for unlucky boys everywhere, the muscled prick's gaze was squarely pinned on him. Basho was grinning ear to ear at the exchange he had witnessed. There was no doubt in Kurapika's mind he would be hearing about being caught gazing oh so lovingly at the musical Hunter like the "love-sick" teen he was.

"Well would you look at that! Leader's got some interest in the fairer sex after all! I was starting to wonder….how sweet, Leader-boy was staring oh so lovingly (Kurapika freakin' knew it) at a girl. Le gasp, and she is pretty much your age too! Well, maybe a year or so ahead, but I'm sure a cougar is no challenge for dear Kurapika~" said Basho, his brows wiggling suggestively.

Kurapika froze at the implication.

His thoughts had never escalated that far….

"Hahaha, don't look so worried leader, I was just teasing you, she's not really your type, eh?" Basho said after a lapse of time looking at Kurapika flounder (well, as much as the stoic Kurta boy could flounder). His voice was self-assured, honest sounding, as if he had just stated that he color grey was the most beautiful color, only to laugh and state of course that was a lie, and grey isn't really a color anyway. Not his type? Not his type? He isn't sure why, but he feels inexplicably offended at Basho's matter-a-fact tone. The way he stated Kurapika could never possibly be attracted to Senritsu. It….it hurt. Why did it hurt?

Kurapika frowns as he feels an odd acidic feeling begin to grow in his belly, and spread throughout his chest. As if he was the one that had been slighted. And in a way he had, he realizes, as his fingers finally clench and unclench themselves, resurrecting the feeling back into the tiny limbs that had fallen limp on the large book cradled in his lap. Basho had implied Senritsu's unattractiveness as if it were an unequivocal fact .Her value as a woman somehow downgraded in accordance with her lack of the fundamental basis unspokenly demanded of all women. Beauty.

'Melody is my…... colleague'. He tried to rationalize. 'Of course that's why I am…..' But, what was this feeling?

"Hey, are you alright? Your expression just went a bit cold…" Basho said, playful grin slipping into a straight, blank, line. Like a piece of string briefly used as a plaything by a small child only to be dropped to the floor, limp and abandoned, after having lost interest in the game.

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be." Kurapika stated promptly. Years of living on his own had given him his greatest teacher. Loneliness. And from this master, he had learned how to keep people away, how to mask his emotions, and above all else loneliness had taught him to lie reflexively.

"If you say so. You seem kinda mad though."Basho muttered under his breath, brow furrowed in curiosity as he stood up and made his way towards a shelf on the opposite wall. Just as suddenly as those words left Basho's mouth, Kurapika made a mad grab at his right wrist, and dug his nails into his arm to get a semblance of self-control back..to stop himself from hotly responding "NO I'm not!"

The sudden action his body had just performed, and the unwanted thought that had materialized in his mind, startled him with the aggressiveness of it.. His body had acted on its own, without his explicit command to do so, and it had been a long time since Kurapika Kurta had not been completely in control of his own actions.

'Angry? Am I angry?' He thought to himself, now consciously forcing himself to swallow down the warm, ardent, bubbling emotion back into himself. 'Use your head,' he reminded himself, locking his hysterical heart back within himself., 'I am angry. Is that what this is? But

…...this feels different somehow…" Indeed, anger was not a foreign feeling to Kurapika. He waded through the torrent emotion each and everyday, not a word, but a sound, forever crackling within his very soul. The cold, controlled lightning strikes carefully conducted into a purpose: Vengeance. Purposeful anger, crippling hurt like a raging cancer that bullied your internal organs into submission and yet had the audacity to demand tears and heartache as tribute for it's unwanted performance.

He knew indignance like an abusive parent forever peering over your shoulder, incessantly grinding their palm into a gouged out wound in your back, the only present they were ever able to bequeath you. He thought he knew anger completely, but this twinge of rage was puzzling. There was a sliver of sadness in it that lashed out and wounded him…..was it compassion? No...no, that wasn't a foreign emotion….what could it be.

Heartache.

He blinked. His lip twitched in response, and his brow furrowed in discernibly beneath his long bangs, and….he blinked. He reviewed the definition in his mind, and ran the word through his mental servers, processing, processing, processing…...as if he were a machine. The word was present in his mind, but the full analysis and understanding of the word had been lost in translation. It was almost as if his subconscious was trying to help him understand, but was too far away for Kurapika to properly hear.

He drops his conversation with Basho and retreats into himself once more. Had he kept his eyes trained on the Haiku warrior, he would have noticed the scheming grin etched across his face.

_,

Kurapika flips another page from the textbook laying in his lap. He did what he could to keep his mind occupied with the book on the Ming Dynasty he was currently reading rather than the girl sitting a few feet away.

Yawning, Kurapika turns his head to the small clock hanging on the wall on the east side of the room. 11:45 am. He still had the rest of the day ahead of him Kurapika thought to himself…..that was a relief. He was not quite ready to end the day and return to work. Even Avenger Kurta-boys needed breaks from paperwork every once in awhile

.

A slow steady stream of notes flows through the room and Kurapika's head snaps at the melodious sound. His eyes flit towards the short musical hunter perched upon a bench a few paces away from Kurapika and Basho, and when his black-contact clad eyes connect with her amber..he feels odd.

She smiles cutely. Kurapika forgets how to breath.

Basho gives a hearty laugh, "alright Sen! It's about time we got some noise to drown out the silence!" Kurapika can't help but agree. To be honest the silence was getting unnerving…mostly because of the awkward confrontation Basho and he had just left hanging in the air…

"The room had such a lovely rhythm going…..and no one seemed to be offering any words up to play with the beat. I-I thought a nice, soft, tune might match the ambiance well…" Senritsu smiles sweetly as her voice trailed off, face reddening a bit at her comment. She had just pointed out the awkwardness of the everyone's lack of conversation after all.

The blonde blinked and scrutinized his own actions. Other than his conversation with Basho, Kurapika had not been uncomfortable with the silence. But Senritsu's reaction was to be expected; she was a woman of music and sounds after all, even speech sounded like music to her ears, so a stretch of two hours without any noise other that the beats of their hearts….it must have been driving her mad. A drum line with no melody? How torturous. Particularly considering her enhanced hearing.

Kurapika laughs out loud, "Sen if you were so uncomfortable you could have said something sooner, I would not have minded talking to you for awhile."

"Well…yes of course." she laughs knowing that Kurapika must have understood her sudden outburst. "I did rather think a song would be a good idea for the tone though…..just because it's early morning and we all still seem to be waking up" She sing-songed, eyes crinkling with the secret smile that formed on her face. Kurapika blushed. So she had heard his discreet yawning.

Basho eyed the pair curiously, paying particular attention to the blonde hunter as nonchalantly as he could. It would not do to arouse dear leader's suspicions after all.

Senritsu raised the small penny whistle to her lips once more, and adopted a more lively tune this time around. The notes seemed to jump and dance throughout the room, and the eyes of both males widened at the song; they had not heard this one before.

Senritsu jumped down from her place on the bench, somehow avoiding affecting her playing, and steadily made her way to her fellow hunters. Her feet stepped in time with the beat, and if Kurapika did not know any better, he would say she was dancing. He sat mesmerized at the fluid song, and began to feel a sense of unbridled joy surge through him and the room was transformed…..he had no doubt in his mind this was Senritsu's Nen bleeding through the music.

He watched as the young woman's every move fell in sync with the tune she had set. How it was possible to instigate order and beauty so quickly through something as chaotic as music he would never know.

After a time, Senritsu's playing came to an end, and both males sat in their seats, unaware of the penny whistles final note. It had blended back into the silence so perfectly, even the quite seemed like a symphony of high noise now. Blinking rapidly, both men clapped appreciatively, and Senritsu laughed lightly, before giving a deep bow.

"Thank you Thank you~" she teased, her small bit of hair curtaining her peripheral vision.

"I'd never heard that one! It was a cool fast-sounding one…what's it called?" Basho questioned, vestiges of the uncontrollable grin Senritsu's song had caused had Basho deliberately clamping his hand over his lips in an attempt to reign in the nen-induced joy.

"It's name is Morrison's…an old Irish tune I like to play every once in awhile. It inspires happiness after all." Senritsu said, idly twirling a strand of auburn hair.

"Leader definitely deserves some joy after working so hard for all of us, and how better to repay him than to give him some kind of emotional break….with music" Senritsu said, eyes crinkling at the teasing lilt she took on when saying "leader." Kurapika fought down the blush that reddened his cheeks, and Basho chuckled.

Kurapika knows she is attempting to repay him for letting her sleep in a few night's ago. He wants to tell her she doesn't owe him anything, wants to tell her he is just glad she looks well-rested. He knows all this, and yet feels the urge to ask something else of Senritsu.

Maybe it was the music's effect,, but Kurapika felt a sudden joy that encouraged him to say what he did next.

"I really liked this tune…..however if it was for my benefit, and you would really like to pay me back in some way….I think I might enjoy the song more if you sang it…" Kurapika trailed of challengingly, adopting a teasing tone of his own

He counts Senritsu's raging blush as a victory.

"Ohoho~ Leader sure is sneaky~" Basho says, a genuine grin curling the ends of his lips this time.

He isn't sure why he asked this of Senritsu. He has the inexplicable feeling that what he witnessed in the music room a few nights ago had been private, sacred even…...but he still remembers that way she had looked: Forlorn, jaded, and much much more tired than someone of her mere twenty years ought to.

Will you…...sing for me sometime?

Even now, the thought he had so painstakingly erased from the note he had written Senritsu refuses to leave him alone. He can't help it. The sweet lul of her voice has been forever engraved in his mind, and he can't stop himself from asking for her voice once more.

"I…...OK" Senritsu finally says, a hesitant yet…somewhat pleased look enveloping her face.

When she parts her lips and lets the first tune spill forth, Kurapika knows he made the right choice.

It isn't until much later that it occurs to him that Senritsu's sudden playing of the penny whistle had less to do with her discomfort with silence, and more to do with her sensing the tension growing between himself and Basho.

This too he stores away for future reference.

A/N: Thoughts? I differentiated Kura and Sen's 's by making Kurapika straightforward, stark, and a bit of a smart-ass (in short that guy). He is a formal guy, but have you seen that boy? He is so unbelievably sassy I swear...

Anyone want to second the head-cannon that Basho is a closet match-maker and hell bent on teasing Kurapika's "unmanly" physique? At least in comoparison to the bulky mess that stallion is? No? Just me?

R & R if you feel so inclined, ,they inspire me to update faster truly~