A/N: Here it slowly becomes evident of the darkness that Kurapika harbors deep within his heart. Having dealt with so many debilitating blows has taken a far greater toll on his mentality where fantasy and reality begin to slowly bleed. Losing sight of the one thing most important to him ends up being Kurapika's greatest fear. Gon and friends worry about their friend's mental stability and debate on going after him.
Summary: Here it slowly becomes evident of the darkness that Kurapika harbors deep within his heart. Having dealt with so many debilitating blows has taken a far greater toll on his mentality where fantasy and reality begin to slowly bleed. Losing sight of the one thing most important to him ends up being Kurapika's greatest fear. Gon and friends worry about their friend's mental stability and debate on going after him.
Chapter revamped on 6/1/19.
The early morning wind whipped his golden locks around and rumpled his clothing as he stood on the platform clutching his ticket. Kurapika lifted a hand to shield half-lidded blue eyes from the blinding light that had shone brightly with its warm illumination, highlighting the many airships that dotted the horizon. It had been a few hours since he left his home on the outskirts of Yorknew, following the vague direction towards his destination, towards where his quarry would be. Earlier that day, Kurapika had consulted his Dowsing Chain; its prominence had that indicated his search would lead him out of the province and towards the northeast just a few scant hours away. From his observation and knowledge of the surrounding country, he would be heading into the Gordeau Desert.
Why there of all places remained a mystery. The desert had very little to offer with its treacherous and dangerous terrain, fierce winds and daily storms that anyone not diverse with handling the unpredictable conditions would most like either suffer being led astray by its mystifying mirages or even worse, never to return alive. Only the longtime locals who resided within the city of Ti'alma were bold enough to venture across its desolate sands and brave its harsh conditions.
Kurapika had, indeed, come prepared. One thing for him was the blond had long since been conditioned to handle rough terrain and unforgivable weather conditions. For so long, he had traversed many different lands and crossed through so many countries and cities. He was even used to living it rough. In reality, it would only be a test towards his physical integrity and stability, which Kurapika was confident it wouldn't be a problem. Though dealing with the constant shifting sands and the high-velocity winds was something the blond wasn't looking forward to.
Mentally. Kurapika ground himself. If he wanted to ascertain the answers he sought and put to cessation his plaguing nightmares, then he had to do regardless of the awaiting dangers.
Sighing resolutely, Kurapika checked the time and noted he had a few hours before departure and settled on getting something to eat as a late breakfast. After settling down at a local café with a much-needed cup of coffee and a warm plate of food, the Kurta began running over his course of action for when he would finally encounter the head of the Genei Ryodan.
One thing was certain; even now, his Judgment Chain remained active and unabated. At that very moment, he could sense that its conditions had been preserved and unaltered.
That would mean the man wouldn't be as hefty a threat like before his capture and binding. Still, that didn't mean there wasn't a warrant for caution. It was a delicate situation that required a precise way of addressing it. Being rash and brazen definitely wouldn't be a proper recourse. Even with the prospect of the entire thing being a trap.
Kurapika shook his head and took a long draw from his mug, welcoming the caffeine into his veins. The entire scenario was becoming more or less convoluted. Kurapika knew what he wanted to do. Or at least he had an idea. The seething choler that wrestled within his gut was always there, and the threat of it pushed on a desire just to deliver swift justice and end it all within one blow. Seeing his longtime adversary lying defeated on the ground, felled and broken, prepared for deliverance in comeuppance for every wrong, every atrocity, and every painful hand Kurapika was delivered was nearly enough to pull him into a maniacal state of mind. The very idealism made Kurapika want just to toss aside any hints of warning and practically choke the man once he saw him until he turned blue. It was the very least he deserved, at least to Kurapika.
For all the hellish nightmares and damnation of which he had suffered, and his clan had suffered, the remembrance of their broken and battered bodies, eyes gouged and long gone, their final resting place desecrated by the very evils that still roamed the earth, it brought more turmoil to the young man than any other. One thing Kurapika couldn't ever suppress, even in his dreams was the perpetual wails, the tormented screams of those he had lost while in the throes of their final moments.
He stifled a sob as his shoulders trembled, and Kurapika managed to choke down the last of his drink, having lost his appetite while struggling to regain his composure. He couldn't continue on like this. It was too much. Just the burden alone, the trials of carrying such weight, and the toll it took on his mentality along with the void it left, Kurapika wasn't even sure anymore where he gathered the strength to carry on. Granted, he had wonderful friends who were always supportive and caring, but even then, it wasn't enough to entirely quell the rage that burned deep. Oh, so deep. The fine line he walked, continually teetering on the razor's edge, it wasn't something that anyone could ever save him from. Kurapika had his own demons to battle, and it was something he had to do alone.
Bearing the weight of being the last of his clan, of the Kurtas wasn't an easy one to carry.
He wasn't even sure when it happened, or how it did, but the next thing Kurapika knew was he had found himself within a bathroom staring into a mirror, the vision looking back at him was filled with utter grief and sorrow, the edges of pure ceruleans had become tainted by crimson. Kurapika's body trembled, and shivers rolled down over his lithe frame as he was vaguely aware of the white-knuckled vice-like grip he had upon the porcelain basin. His heart palpitated roughly in his chest, thudding against his rib cage as every emotion, every feeling, all his pent up frustrations finally ambled to the surface.
"No more. Just… No more." He murmured to no one in particular, crystalline white droplets had lined the corners of his lids, rolling in thin rivulets down his flushed cheeks to pool on the porcelain surface beneath. Kurapika stifled another sob; every ounce of strength was gathered in an attempt to push back the welling force, not wanting to break down. Not here, not now. "I won't… I can't give in. Not this time. I will see it through. I won't be swayed."
With silent resolution, Kurapika straightened his back and faced his reflection once more; ferocity replacing the once gripping dolor that had lined stricken features, and suddenly a flash brought him back to his senses as he caught a twinkle of bright red, the ruby from his earring was swinging from its long, elongated chain. Gingerly, Kurapika's fingers came to rest against it, and he smiled affectionately at the memory of the day when he had received it. The small amount of comfort it gave him, it was enough to fortify his stature. He would press forth and absolve his current predicament.
Exiting the bathroom, Kurapika breathed in sharply and decidedly made his way back to the airport, knowing it was time to prepare and face his choices while facing his destiny.
The storm had finally died down as sand and debris littered the streets, cobblestoned pathways sat cluttered and disrupted, making it was easy to tell that the desert had recently assaulted the city. Though navigating its strewn paths wasn't all that difficult for the tall man who swept along them with graceful ease, his long, ebony coat swaying behind him in the gentle breeze. Aimless he trudged, delving further into the heart of the city, surveying everything that occurred around him while mapping it out despite nothing of great interest captivated his attention. For the place had been unfortunately a border town, mostly dealing in basic necessities and the wares were limited. It made him disgruntled that he was forced to reside in such a drab place, but the current circumstances decreed otherwise.
It was unbelievable. The days brought about endless droves of locals going about their usual routines while milling about or hurrying on in an unaided rush to whatever destination they had. For Chrollo, it was merely an ample luxury – or what one could call luxury amiss a city surrounded by desert and terrible storms. Such a ridiculous idea; he snorted at the thought. This wasn't exactly something he would consider a getaway point. Only someone not in their right mind would have ever thought the place was a point of potential prospect – wait, was he really that crazy to be there himself?
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather-bound trench, Chrollo descended towards the main promenade, the Arabian style motif that nearly outfitted everything in something grandiose was almost outlandish, through the intricacies such displayed was amicable for the type of city that Ti'alma was. In truth, it could have been seen as gaudy despite its charming appeal.
As he passed by the countless stalls in the marketplace, Chrollo simply observed the hawkers with mild interest. So many of them tried fruitlessly to garner his attention as he swept along the crowd, though very little could pique his interests with particular tastes such as his. Most he considered were either useless or unprofitable. There was simply not much there for a master thief to designate a reaction for. It was pretty much a waste of his time.
"What the fuck am I still doing here?" He inwardly chided himself, still irritated with the fact that the entire farce he had to conglomerate with while sitting there waiting for his comrades to locate a Nen exorcist was becoming quite distressing. Of course, maintaining a regal air while being level-headed was something that generally came with ease as it was a trait he possessed from early on. But now, that very same patience was starting to wane. Living without Nen while being left with half of what he used to be – nay, more like an empty shell of his former self, was beginning to take its toll. Living like a normal human being, or what could be considered normal, it was something he was far from used to.
Chrollo felt everything and was sensitive to everything which quite frankly left him a victim of his surroundings. Even the elements had wracked their fury upon him. It was downright despicable. One could also say the comparison was quitelaughable. Here he was, someone who had done rather atrocious, rueful things and was scathing about being a victim, one that was ultimately done by his own hand.
It was downright hypocritical, even ludicrous, and yet, the end result still remained the same.
Foolish, indeed. A mistake Chrollo would not make a second time. It was a reticent dictum, contrived and unleashed. Next time he came across that man, the Chain User, things would be different.
Much, much different.
Almost instinctively, one of his hands lashed out, quickly, and viperously to snatch an apple off the cart of a fruit vendor he casually went past, the spindly man barely aware he had been stolen from. Bringing the sweet fruit to his lips, Chrollo paused, and its gleaming surface brought a sudden cognizance - red. It was gleaming while covered in condensation despite the dry air and lush with a tantalizing sweetness that tickled his senses, yet the entirety of it beheld a different meaning. Just the color alone brought about a separate analysis altogether. It only served as a reminder, and he carefully studied it.
Such a vibrant hue, it was almost like a ruby. The word flitted across his mind, and Chrollo grinned. The contrast was nearly striking, and he wavered, finding himself musing over one thing that seemed to occupy his thoughts as of late, drawing him, even if it was considered unhealthy to near obsession. Turning the apple over in his hand, Chrollo licked the seam of his lips, moistening them almost idly. Yes, that is what it reminded him of. Rubies. Yet, it was not of the inanimate kind, but the living kind, the very same which was held by a very special blond.
This time, his thoughts seemed to take an entirely different turn.
For a brief moment, Chrollo was perturbed, having almost forgotten the apple that he held and found himself staring forward, grey eyes nearly falling into a blank expression before returning to their dark, haunting, and fathomless glamour. Sadistic, perverse ideas began to edge at the corners of his mind, taking over the once maniacal, diabolical plans he had initially laid out. Those lips upturned into more of a conniving smile – oh yes, things have definitely changed now, the concept was just too perfect, the opportunity too great to even consider passing up.
Taking a bite out of the momentarily abandoned fruit, he savored the delectable flavor, the juices rolling down his tongue, just as the honeyed visions of a beautiful, tapered creature standing before him, broken and subdued, forcing away every last ounce of will and becoming attached to him permanently crept into his mind.
As the idealism sunk further into his thoughts, Chrollo grew eager, waiting to drink in every aspect, every sinewy of perfection, golden locks framing an unblemished countenance that beheld the most captivating thing which still held a burning, seething hatred. It was the very same thing of which shone brighter than anything else he had ever seen, even against the very those of which he and his Spiders had mercilessly slaughtered to obtain. To have a living specimen, a practical a relic of the past would be so much better than the dull, lifeless orbs that floated within the preservation fluid they were kept in as they hung within their glass canisters. Yes, he wouldn't kill the blond now. Doing so would be such an enormous waste. The boy was too pretty, too valuable, and capable of having falter by the wayside. Chrollo would tame the wild beast, make him heal, and eternally bind him.
He took a few more bites off the apple, finishing it and discarding the remains, becoming so complacent within his own thoughts that he practically ignored the flow of life around him. Those translucent images which ran through his mind only seemed to draw Chrollo in deeper as more devious, lecherous intentions began to form.
Such lustrous sensations and feelings, of his fingers trailing down along milky white skin that was satiny and oh so soft, just the very notion caused Chrollo to shiver amply. Slowly, he began exploring the darker corners of his mind. Images of how that lithe, yet redefined body would look beneath him as his hands trailed along the plains of each muscle, each cord while inciting gasps from every sweep over those shoulders and neck, then down the young man's back while the look of humiliation flowed beneath succulent, flaring rubies made Chrollo smile.
It was a beautiful, delectable vision, and Chrollo couldn't get enough. How he had never thought of something so enticing, so tempting and provocative was utterly elusive to him. But one thing remained for certain; he now had even more reason to reel the blond in. Chrollo would do more now than just forcibly bind the young man to him. More and more, it became evident that his little prize held more value above the surface level, garnering an even deeper meaning. He would make full use of the blond's abilities, but not just so, he also wanted to consecrate and defile him, exacerbate that repose then completely shatter his will. Eventually, the young man would submit everything to him, all of him and without contest.
Disappearing nearly elusive into the thickening crowd, Chrollo patiently decided to wait for the now fated meeting he was sure would transpire. Once he managed to lift the current restraints, he would be sure to seek out the blond first, and from there, everything would fall conveniently into place, wherein the tides would finally shift and tip in his favor. Now it was just a matter of time.
"I will make you mine, Kurapika." The utterance flowed along with the wind like a nondescript pledge, certain and prophetic, "That is a promise."
The air was hot and stifling as it nearly knocked the wind from his lungs the moment he stepped off the airship platform. With the lack of humidity, dry and practically desiccant, it was plain to see why only certain people ever chose to live in a location like this. There was no way he wouldn't ever be able to commit or adapt to such an exhausting type of lifestyle. However, the choice was non-existent as it was where his tracking had led him to. A place where very little traveled to. It was a perfect place to lay low and avoid detection on a mass scale. At least, if you considered such a city as T'alma the last place to look for someone in.
After he exited through the arrival gate and got through security, Kurapika swept a hand through his bangs, pushing the stray ends from his eyes as he departed through the entrance to the airport and into the blinding sunlight. His eyes narrowed, and he lifted a hand to shield them from the abnormal brightness before deciding to find a secluded place; he needed to consult his Dowsing Chain once again.
Once he found sanctuary beneath one of the very few trees that were scattered throughout the barren landscape, Kurapika exhaled slowly as a long an elongated trail of silver dropped from his ring finger, snaking and twisting, the small metallic ball at the end moving like a pendulum before rising and pointing almost directly forward in front of him. "North." It was a simplistic, and practically impassive response to slip past his lips. The blond resigned and gathered up what meager belongings he had decided to bring along and began his intrepid crossing through the imposing desert.
The gates to Ti'alma were ornate, almost gilded with their elegant stone archways; the mason work clearly showed that a lot of delicate and intricate thought went into their construct. It was awe inspiring for such a minor city that sat practically in the middle of a vast desert. It was the last location of civilization for miles, cast so far that supply runs were virtually limited, even the weather conditions played a significant part on the city's functionality. All considering, however, the place seemed to flourish, which was in stark contrast to so many other sites.
Letting the magnificent sight pass over his head, Kurapika slipped into the bustle within the streets, watching as so many people pushed and wove through the promenade and around each other, like a vast sea moving with purpose, with unity. The low rumbling of the din was a proclamation of hawkers with their wares, while storefronts sat open while awaiting customers. It was almost unbelievable how lively and harmonious the atmosphere seemed to ring all around him; the concept was nearly lost to his mind, and yet, he still remained genuinely amazed. Gathering his remaining moxie, Kurapika pushed through the milling crowd, finally ready to face the one reason for venturing to such a remote location.
A beep indicated the ending of a call as the LED screen faded to black, the object being slipped haphazardly into a pants pocket. Straightening, the tall man squared his jaw as dark eyes fell over his two younger companions, though a slight frown adorned his lips. "Well. He arrived safely. Said he was en route towards the city of Ti'alma, though had to double check his Dowsing Chain to be sure."
"At least that is a plus." The flat response came, though stormy blue eyes betrayed any overt proclamation of confidence. One thing that Killua was always sure on was his instincts. This was no exception. "Now we can be certain he isn't dead at least."
"Killua!" The snap came, and Leorio practically bolted out of the chair he had been sitting upon, fists clenched. "You damn well know Kurapika wouldn't allow himself to be so easily killed! We should have more faith in him than that."
"You don't think I do old man? I am simply stating that at least we know for certain he's alive." The young boy shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders slumping, "Though I will still admit I am not entirely pleased with this scenario – I just get a bad feeling about the whole thing."
Silence descended between, the tension building to almost a clear boiling point, neither of them sure how they wished to proceed in handling their current predicament although they knew Kurapika had instructed explicitly that none of them were to interfere regardless of circumstance or outcome.
Leorio hated it and was confident it was the same for Gon and Killua. The younger boys were twitching to do something, clearly wanting to go after their friend, but they knew it would simply be going against the blond's wishes. Plus it would be an affirmation that they didn't believe in Kurapika's skills or abilities, something else they wished not to invoke wrath over. The older man ground his teeth – it was inconceivable that Kurapika would want to do something so dangerous, so incorrigible on his own, especially knowing who exactly his target was. It was so damned difficult holding resistance against ultimately saying fuck it and going after the blond, but in reality, such just wasn't the case, nor was it in their right to do so.
Grunting, he reclined back in his chair with reluctance, hands clasping each other on his lap. "As much as I know we want to go after him, we need to have faith. It's the most we can do for now."
Gon looked down at his own hands which seemed to slightly tremble on his own lap, as much as the boy had always kept positive and optimistic, he couldn't help but feel a slight semblance of uselessness. Sitting there doing nothing while they all thought their friend was practically walking into a viper's den, was almost too much to handle. "Do… Do you really think he will be okay?"
It was one of those rare moments where the young, spiky-haired boy had his doubts, all the conflicting emotions embroiling within his mind and causing him to have trouble placing that faith. Despite all the numerous times where Kurapika had easily proven he was capable, it was still inexplicable that the current situation was anything but. Especially knowing how delicate and fragile his mentality was, more so when it came down to the Genei Ryodan, specifically Chrollo Lucifer.
Would Kurapika really be able to handle himself without actually breaking?
"I know it's difficult, but it's about as much as we can expect. At this point, we just have to believe that Kurapika knows what he is doing and can handle himself." Leorio closed his eyes, inhaling, through the breath was sharp, sending a pang down into his chest. As much as he refused to admit, he was worried, scared, fretting beneath all those layers of calm that the worst was going to happen. But he wished not to show that kind of emotion in front of the two boys. The last thing he wanted to do was heighten their already budding concerns. "Man, I really, really hate this." He thought.
"As much as I don't want to admit it, I think you're right. But if there is any inkling at any time that things are taking a turn for the worst, then that promise becomes nullified." Killua interjected, voice low and steady.
"I agree, if it looks like at any time Kurapika is in serious danger, then we will go after him, whether he likes it or not." Leorio conceded fist clutched and drawing through the air, "If he thinks we will abandon him in a time of need, he has another thing coming."
"You guys are right; I think we are worrying too much. We should at least believe in Kurapika and that he can handle the situation on his own. If things get too bad, then we will be there to help him." The cheery tone had returned to Gon's voice, a smile crossing his young, tender face. Never for too long was the boy able to keep his usually jovial nature suppressed. He had been wrong and should have placed more faith then he did in their friend. Kurapika was far from weak – he could take care of himself and didn't need them to hold his hand through everything. "I think it will all work out."
"Yeah, you just may be right, Gon." In an attempt to share the other boy's enthusiasm, the young Zoldyck's expression changed from annoyance to confidence, his stature becoming less stiff in the process, "For now, we need to wait and see what happens, or for any indication from Kurapika that he is in trouble."
In aphonic conclusion, it was decided they wouldn't interfere, not now at least, lest their efforts could turn out disastrous or adverse. The last thing any of them wished to do was cause more trouble or make anything more problematic for their friend, even if the decision was less than inadmissible. It was all they could do aside from that was sit back and just wait.
Kurapika would prevail. He wouldn't break and would come out on top.
It was around midday, and the heat was slowly becoming less temperate, the air seemed stifling as the dust carried along the currents was growing thicker, more prominent, which nearly choked the wind right from his lungs. Kurapika raised a scarf to wind around his nose and mouth, the protective barrier between him and the sand was a welcomed sensation. Inwardly he was glad he had worn his Tribal clothing – it was something he concluded would be the best garb to handle the type of weather conditions the city was plagued with almost daily, praising how it guarded him against the continuous onslaught.
However, he had managed to obtain something called a cloak – the fabric was airy yet silken with a dull array of browns and tans and efficiently helped ward off the elements. He situated the new article along his shoulders which was in stark contrast to the color of his current attire as another gust surged through the narrow alleyway and whipped his golden hair wildly around his head while he pressed his way forward. Grunting, he pulled the cloak tighter around him and continued following the trajectory of which his Dowsing Chain had pointed in.
For hours he had been tracking down his mark, and so far there was no sign of him. With his Nen sealed, locking onto his signature was proving to be difficult, on top of the fact that it seemed the other was on the move. How utterly infuriating it was trying to locate the one person who was the last thing he wanted to see, but doing so while threading through an endless sea of people, it was proving to be stressful. Not only that but relying solely on his chains which could only pinpoint to a certain extent wasn't exactly helping, either. Since the Spider's leader was not exuding a constant flow of aura or potentially had left behind any residue to follow, it was becoming increasingly difficult to track the man down. Kurapika could only hope that Lady Luck would smile upon him.
Exiting the alleyway he pushed into the main concourse, falling into the very heart of the city. At the center there was a marble statue surrounded by a ring, the structure looked to be of horses with mermaid tails twining upwards, streams of water flowing from their open muzzles and down into the basin. His eyes wandered over the delicate surface, taking in each and every detail, admiring the grandeur of such a thing which sat amid such a dull place. It was magnificent, just the chisel work alone – Hippocampus he thought as he remembered reading something about them in mythology textbooks, but seeing something replicated, it was marvelous. Kurapika had always appreciated things that were done with great effort.
Tearing his eyes away from the great statue, he resumed scanning the crowd, watching each passerby with intense scrutiny, his lips had tipped into a frown. Surely his objective wasn't becoming tedious, was it? He was having a rather arduous time considering his current situation but was presently mulling over taking a break for the time being in favor of scrounging up some lunch when a flash of movement suddenly caught his attention.
Pulling the hood of the cloak up over his head, he threaded through the moving crowd towards the source of the disruption. At the edge of an adjacent alleyway across the concourse, he spotted that unmistakably obsidian coat with its ivory fur lining, and a head full of raven-hued hair. Kurapika clenched his teeth and balled his fists, the chains tinkling somberly in mimic of his mood.
Wasting no time, he shrouded himself within a cloud of In and completely concealing his presence before slowly stalking forth, his movement becoming precise and calculating, moving with almost feline-like grace. Slowly he closed the gap, though only retaining enough distance to keep from getting too close but also to keep the other man clearly within his sights, not wanting to lose him within the horde. Anxiety began to swell within his gut, the intensity boding only caused him to resist wanting to rush after the Spider head and pummel him right then and there. But he couldn't. He wouldn't. Time was of the essence, and he had to handle the matter fastidiously; being bullheaded and not following his plan inevitably would cause this entire escapade to unravel and fall apart.
But damn it was difficult.
Conceding, Kurapika pulled out his cell phone and quickly typed, 'I found him' before hitting the send button and placing the phone away once more.
For the time being, he would keep tabs on the older man; watch his every move, his every action and figure out what he was up to. Granted, Kurapika wanted answers as he had many questions but now was not the time. He had a distinct feeling the Spider's leader was up to something, and he intended to find out what exactly.
Quickly he dipped behind a stack of crates next to an unmanned stall just as the raven-haired man rounded a corner and slipped out of the main promenade. The blond stiffened and followed, staying only within the other's shadow. No, he would not fail, not this time.
"You will not get away from me, not again. I will be sure of that."
Chrollo hated large gatherings of people. Something about the congestion, the constant daunting buzz of voices and combined noises tended to get to him, even give him a headache at times. It wasn't hard to decipher the conversations between people, but without his Nen to aid him, the cacophony was only an uneven reverberating of noises, and the dissonance only aggravated him. Such proved to be the case when he swept into the vast barrio where the density of people only thickened, making it harder to traverse. He attempted to tune out as much of the clamor as possible, shouldering his way through without much care of consideration. Swiftly he passed by a rather elegant looking statue – a fountain he surmised, though barely paying much attention to it despite the rather impressive art and opting to cross through the heart of the city as expeditiously as possible. The wail of the daily activities was enough to drive him into near madness.
As he neared a line of stalls that sat at the far corner of the barrio, he felt a rather strange twinge crawl over his skin, like the sensation that he was being watched. His head tilted slightly, inconspicuously gazing over his shoulder, dark, unblinking eyes running over the sea of bodies and looking for anything out of place, out of the ordinary. It wasn't until he funneled into a nearby alley that his attention was finally perked. At first, he thought it was a mere illusion, or what they call in the desert, a mirage. But he saw it in his peripheral vision a figure that appeared clad in rugged, dark colors, though the face was hooded, and something about the figure spoke it was no mirage. The movements were too concise, todeliberate.
He was being followed, no doubt about it.
Chrollo relaxed, keeping the tension out of his shoulders. The last thing he wanted to do was alert the person that he was aware of them tailing him.
So he kept on his current trek, rounding the corner and into another thoroughfare, this time much narrower and harboring fewer people. Shoveling his hands casually into the pockets of his trench, he kept up his farce, reminding himself that sooner or later his pursuer would eventually slip up and their identity would be revealed. It was only a matter of time.
For hours it seemed that his stalker continued to relentlessly follow him, staying just far away enough that Chrollo couldn't get a good look at their face beneath the hood, but just close enough to mirror his steps move for move.
Though, it wasn't until he found himself driving into another large area of the city that his diligence finally paid off. Just when he was about to stop to perfidiously admire a stall keeper's assortment of old appearing artifacts did a rather unexpected burst of wind cascade through the area, sand whisking riotously over everything and instantaneously caught his pursuer off guard. The momentary lapse in focus caused the rim of the other's hood to be swept back, even if for a split second and Chrollo caught a glimpse of golden strands of hair along with the shimmer of a garnet like-gem swinging from the tip of an earring before the hood was quickly replaced.
It was in that moment Chrollo's lips formed into a sardonic grin.
Everything became so much easier, so much more convenient, and how fate had so cruelly, so derisively; yet so favorably bore her fortune upon him. Not only was he able to now nix the need to track down his quarry, but the blond had also come seeking him out. It was just too perfect an opportunity to pass up. Whatever the young man's reasoning was for tracking him down was something he didn't quite know or understand, but at that point, it wasn't something he found necessary to facilitate. In all due time would he find out, but he decided to let this particular situation play out. For now, he would allow the young man to follow him. The pretense behind it only furthered to solidify his decision. If Kurapika wanted to play this little game of cat and mouse, Chrollo saw no reason to not give the blond what he wanted, though they would play by his terms and by his rules. However, he would not allow his guard to slip and give Kurapika the upper hand a second time.
Satisfied with his ploy, he resumed his aimless excursion, a smile never wavering from his lips as the blond dutifully and expectantly mirrored his every move.
After Thoughts: The emotions in this chapter I know brood a bit strong since its clear that Kurapika is really caught into a mental displacement with his continuously growing negative situation. But again, he really thinks that he has a full grip on his situation when he really doesn't. Writing this up was interesting as I got to toy with how Chrollo feels and slowly the change of watching the blond affecting his decisions on how to handle it.