Kuroro caught his breath as the Chain User shoved all his weight off his back leg and launched himself at him. He was fast...much faster. There was no flaw in his movement.
They met in air, Kuroro with a blade conjured from his black book, Kurapika with his chains. The Kurata gasped in surprise as the blade bent in mid air to avoid the chain he shot at his opponent, and then curved back around to aim itself at him. Furthermore, he noticed that it was growing and shrinking at its master's will. He jumped to the side just in time to avoid the edge. It sliced harmlessly through part of his pants. As it snaked its way back to him, he jumped up and, without warning, landed right on the tip of the blade. As he had expected, the movement stopped with a quiver. He launched his Dowsing chain at Kuroro's hand; it twisted around the hilt and wrested it from the man's grasp, the blade disappearing into thin air as he did so.
All in the blink of an eye. Kurapika's breathing had not even escalated with the effort.
The two men regarded each other for a minute. "Well," said Kuroro with an even, undisturbed tone, "so much for the warmup."
He pulled out his book, jumping out of the way without even a glance as Kurapika flung his hooked chain at him. Kurapika hadn't really expected it to work, of course. He was just keeping his opponent on his feet. Opportunities would come later.
"Hmm, what about this one?" Kuroro pondered, and out of thin air, a silvery-blue light appeared, slender as a flower and about the length of his hand. Kuroro lifted a single finger and pointed toward Kurapika.
The light charged at an incredible speed toward the younger man. He stood his ground until the last minute, and then pushed a concentrated amount of Kou towards it just before it almost pierced his body. The light bounded off of the Kou and flew back to Kuroro, who dodged it with ease. It hit the wall behind and disappeared. A semi-second later, the wall became bright-hot and shattered into molten pieces.
Neither man moved a muscle, moving Kou as necessary to guard from the slivers. The moonlight filled the room with creepy blue light; Kuroro framed in black against the bright sky.
Both had already set up parries. Kurapika attacked first, shooting his Judgement Chain and Chain Jail simulaneously at Kuroro. Kuroro dodged them, but lost his footing and fell backwards down the building, where he landed on his feet, catlike, at the bottom. Kurapika threw his Dowsing Chain at the tree branch immediately outside and swung down to meet the other man.
They grappled instantly upon contact, using Nen for strength of blows and counterattacks, not bothering to pull out their weapons. When it was clear that the Kurata had the upper hand, Kuroro shoved him away with superhuman strength and pulled out his book, avoiding the obligatory attack.
Kurapika instantly put himself on guard. Thus, when the air around Kuroro began to bubble and distort in a wave-pattern, he did not feel surprised at the very low, dull drone of sound that surrounded him, bursting the air like the split effect of lightening.
He was expecting the enormous thunder clap before it happened. Using his emission techniques inherent in the "Emperor Time" ability he had mastered, he pushed the Nen cloud away just as it forced the air back together with an enormous clap.
The tree he was standing next to disintegrated into bits of bark and leaves, caught in full by the attack. Kurapika dodged back as the top of the tree, left standing on its own in midair, crashed to the ground.
The moonlight, no longer obstructed by the branches, shone out painfully bright, as a sheet of snow on all surfaces.
"You know," said Kuroro casually, as if they were having tea together instead locked in a death-battle, "there's a very beautiful moon out tonight."
"I noticed," said Kurapika, not releasing his guard for even an instant. Kuroro sighed.
"Just look at it," he said. "I won't attack you."
"Like I could trust a Spider," said the other, but looked up, anyway, aware that even if Kuroro did attack, he could parry him instantly. It was certainly a very nice moon, the yellow core surrounded by thin, ephemeral blue which, even as he watched, quavered and faded, leaving only the cold white around it.
"They say when the moon becomes pure white, its life is fading," said Kuroro quietly.
"Are you finished making conversation so we can continue, or would you like to extrapolate," Kurapika snarled.
Kuroro passed over him a thin smile and glance. "Well," he said, "the moon is already waning. May as well."
Instantly, he pulled out his book, and before Kurapika could react, pulled out a thin spear, the color of molten gold. "Taiyou no ryu," he whispered, and threw the spear at his opponent.
It transformed to an enormous, firey dragon even as Kurapika watched. The ground, a full two meters below, sizzled as dry tufts of grass instantly ignited, curled, and burned themselves out. He jumped back a further couple of meters as the tree top separating him from Kuroro burst out into hot, hot flame. And still the dragon advanced. He narrowed his eyes at it, attempting to find any weaknesses. For once, he couldn't find so much as a crack in the technique. With a sigh, he did the best thing he could; he closed his eyes and stood completely still.
The dragon passed through him without so much as singeing his hair. He cracked his eyes open into slits, hearing the continuation of fire behind him before it hit the watery halls of the building and fizzled out.
"Oldest trick in the book," he said. "Something that only burns the natural aura of living things."
"And so you cut off your aura flow altogether," Kuroro said, covering his mouth in a thinking gesture. "I would have expected someone far beyond your years of fighting experience to figure that one out."
Kurapika only smirked.
Indeed, he was a gem of a fighter. It pained Kuroro that he had never had the chance to have that kind of power by his side. At the same time, it thrilled him to be fighting such a magnificent speciman. A thrill, unmatched by any other fight he had had before, coiled itself and shot through his spine.