A/N: From here, we get to see the gradual develop of relationship - albeit with negativity early on, but it only picks up from here.
Summery: In the middle of the night, Chrollo decides to exit the desert city to instigate another chase between he and the blond. Kurapika is still attempting to contend with his wayward feelings as he realizes that his quarry has escaped and has to track him down again.
A gentle stream of light poured through the slightly parted curtains that resided against the window as its warm rays washed over the small room and across the face of the sleeping figure that remained bundled beneath the blankets of the bed that sat at the very center. Softly the figure groaned and shifted, hand coming up to shield eyes that were being assaulted by the offending sun. After a few minutes, the blankets were pushed back to reveal a crop of golden hair and the figure sat up, attempting to stifle a yawn.
Kurapika felt as if he had been in a collision with a train; his head was pounding and a heavy wave of grogginess along with a bout of nausea hit, causing him to clutch his head in a desperate attempt to steady himself. Bile rose within his throat, the taste bitter and vile as he felt like he was close to disgorging, the rolling in his tormented gut only a profession of his indisposed state. The upended Kurta remained there; completely ectopic as he tried to recollect himself, body revolting as his thoughts were plagued by harrowing memories as the previous night's events was still fresh in his mind. Even sleep had not brought about any sense of relief – what he endured continued to remain a product of his distress, his situation only becoming more and more troubled.
When the simmering ebullition finally began to seep away, releasing the seize it had upon his stomach, Kurapika managed to force himself out from the sanctity of the bed and made his way wobbly over into the bathroom to relieve himself.
He was still stricken; unable to process or discern exactly what had transpired the night before, every part of it was still a blur, and had came in a rush, making it excessively onerous and nerve wracking.
Again he found himself at the mirror, just as he had once prior and as his own eyes looked back at him, it was almost impossible to tell that the reflection was of his own – somehow those virile blues had become dull, lackluster, faltering into an overcast with grey tingeing their edges. It was almost as if he didn't even recognize the person staring back and the image on the other side was a completely different person. It was nonplusing and it perturbed the blond to the point of any recognition.
Silence descended and Kurapika stilled as if he had become completely frozen, paralyzed, and unable to move while the anomalous reflection seemed to watch him with intense scrutiny. He flinched sensing the heat swell and amplify with deep, vehement red glowing back almost apathetic and the sudden realization jolted him from his temporary entrance. The shock luxated down to the very core, his breathing coming in strained and laborious. For unrequited moments, where confusion and disparaging thoughts bled into his unfortunate reality, it was all Kurapika could do to keep for nearly loosing every stable part of his mind, incapable of coming to grips with the recent odium he felt. Just the notion was beyond fathomable, inconceivable, and it left him in complete disgust with himself. The fact in lieu only burned into the very essence of his being, leaving him hollow.
A few stray tears managed to sneak from their barriers and down almost pallid cheeks as he tore his gaze from the calculating and weighing stare that only wanted to burn him alive and eat him whole, managing to draw away from the small room and into the kitchenette, arm snaking across his face to oust the offending tears adorning his skin. He needed a drink. Alcohol would have been sufficient if it wasn't so early and he didn't relish the idea of getting inebriated before he even had a chance to begin the day. Settling before the small coffee maker, he decided on a cup of hot java to get him through this rather trying time.
Waiting for the brew to finalize its completion, he settled on attempting to enshroud his conflictions over his poignant situation and tried to replace it with a new sense of vigor and determination – if anything, the blond's own resentment revitalized his enmity. He would make Chrollo Lucifer pay for sure for whatever spell was cast upon him and remove at least one pawn from the board if it meant getting back some form of his dignity, or at the very least, a simple peace of mind.
No, he would not let go of something so arduous, so heinous and pernicious. It was a huge injustice to him and such he couldn't just simply ignore. In due time, he would dish out multiple counts of retribution for every dastardly act that had been bestowed upon him.
Enough was definitely enough and after how much those wicked, cruel and malignant criminals had gouged and ripped away from him it was time to put an end to it. Kurapika was being turned into a mockery, a plaything at the behest of the one who was harbinger behind it all. Darker intentions, more sinister and impudent wandered into his thoughts as he grabbed the full cup of heated liquid and after sweetening it minutely, took a long swig from its contents before letting his mind wander back to his furtive ideas, finding that his psyche had gone from intrepid and accusatory to perverse and nefarious. But beneath the surface, just underneath the layers of tumult emotions pricked something more primal, more venereal that remained almost completely ignored though its creeping persistence was still there. Always there. However, Kurapika was unaware of its significance, even as he waged war with himself.
One thing that was apparent; he was going to confront Chrollo Lucifer when the time was right, at the exact moment when conditions were favorable and force the answers out of the man even if it meant Kurapika would have to practically pummel him to do so. Whatever it took, he would see to it that he would get the results he was so determined to receive.
Draining the last bits of the coffee, he figured today would be the day he would find the man and take it a step further. Kurapika needed to raise the stakes, increase his chances and take some risks. Granted, it wasn't the exact idea he had in mind, but with the sudden and new change in events, it was becoming unavoidable. The longer he did nothing, the worse the situation would become. If he was to find any ease or solace in life, if he was to ever move on, he had to tie up these few loose ends before doing so. Leaving it unattended would only allow it to fester.
Quickly he got dressed, grabbed his cloak, placing it around his shoulders and exited the room and leaving the inn, finding himself back in the desert city's streets once more. With newfound vigor, he set off to find the leader of the incorrigible Geniroydan leader.
§§§§§§§
It was unbelievable; the trail had practically gone cold. Faint traces lingered, but the main presence had long since faded, leaving behind only a vague direction of where it had gone. Kurapika stood nearly aghast as he watched the conjectural direction his Dowsing Chain was pointing in. It fluctuated, shifting in unstable motion although it did seem to gravitate towards one destination in general. The blond's eyes narrowed – how the man could have so easily have fled the city in such an ignoble way only irked him further. Such an egregious inconvenience; now he was going to have to go through the painstaking trouble of tracking him down again. Why did he feel as if this was done intentionally?
The Kurta sighed in exasperation; if that bastard was indeed trying to run him on a wild goose chase he would be sure to make him suffer for that one as well. Just what else was the incogitable head of the Spider going to do to him, now?
For a fleeting moment his knew his eyes flashed scarlet before he willed them back to their normal state, right hand steadying itself and settling on following his chains for now. Losing control would not bode well, even considering everything he had been so erroneously put through.
Straightening the cloak around him, and replacing its hood, he followed the direction his Dowsing Chain was pulling him in, making his way through the winding flows of people and streets before finding himself back at the platform leading towards the Airport. Great, just great. So not only did the insufferable man's trail practically dissolve into nothing, leaving Kurapika nearly second guessing as to where he went, the fucker up and practically left the city altogether. He seethed. It just couldn't get any better as the entire scenario was only dragging him further into loathing. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind when he had made the decision to seek the Geneiryodan leader out and he had practically hoped for a swift end to the entire escapade, but at the current rate things were going, Kurapika realized that unfortunately, such wasn't going to end up being the case.
Trying to get a better pinpoint from the direction his acute chain was shivering in as its general direction seemed to focus north with no predetermined destination, Kurapika expelled a heavily laden breath and settled on the fact that he was just going to have to meander his way practically blind if he had any hopes of locating his quarry. Though this time, he vowed that he wouldn't let the damnable man escape his grasp a second time.
Squaring his shoulders, lips pursed into a rather fine line, Kurapika amassed himself, mentally steeling in preparation for his long and laborious journey, though albeit his second one, and returned back to the inn to gather his belongings before returning to purchase his ticket and leave the city of Ti'alma behind.
§§§§§§§
He hated to do it; just the very aspect that he deviated from his plans to start anew, even if the prospect would more than likely garner a much different much more opulent outcome, it was still a difficult decision he had to conclude in doing. In the middle of the night he left, ever so prudently, taking special, deliberate care to ensure that no trail, no warning, no evidence was left behind as he wanted to set the gambit much higher and give his shadow a much needed task in finding him. Surely it was a game he was prospecting using subterfuge, but the end results would bring about something so much bigger, more auspicious which to him, was something too good to really pass up.
The change in pace and creating a little strife along the way, he was confident in his abilities and in his snap decisions.
Chrollo was never one for keeping things in the exact same context as always, thoroughly reveling in the aspect of the thrill, as living on the edge was an ever present thing he was used to in his precarious life. To which, such could be said not only about him, but the entire Geniroydan.
Every day was a constant fight, living on the streets, endeavoring to survive, toiling away through whatever meager things they could scrounge or steal, never really indulging in the lavish unless it was a heist worth putting the effort in for, there was nothing grand about the lives each and everyone one of them chose.
The leader of their little maundering organization was no different.
It was something Chrollo had long since come to accept. One he did accept with graciously open arms.
He was a merciless criminal, pilfering and extorting anything he could get his hands on, glorifying with ease how tactile he was with his abilities, yet never hiding that he was comfortable with his chosen path, making it wildly known of the strength and sovereignty that they held, and that the very name of the Spider would always be a prevalent whisper on the wind.
So many sacrifices, so much had he elicited by unsavory, abominable means and then there were those that had to be done just in the sake of ensuring their survival, preserving the Spider as a whole, even at the expense of one.
Everything had always gone as on normal, or what one could designate as normal for a group of maniacal, impious and aberrant wolves clandestine in sheep's clothing. For Chrollo, it was an impeccable prelude to any anarchic situation. Sowing calamity and ruination was something that they propagated, while everything else they never held any regard or remorse for.
Or so he had thought. For Chrollo was unaware that things in what he always thought was his foreordained life would eventually come to a head and change.
For hours he sat within his room that he rented at a rather luxurious hotel trying to engross himself with one of the many books he happened to carry with him. Skill Hunter had always come in handy, especially one of the many skills he managed to procure over his time traveling the world and collecting anything he deemed worth of interest or having. There were quite a few Hatsu techniques that he eagerly and impenitently took, never paying a second thought to those he so ruthlessly stole from. Whenever Chrollo Lucifer saw something he wanted, he inexorably took it, irregardless of the damage done.
This wasn't going to be any different. At least, in the bigger scheme of things that he had planned out. Still, those wavering doubts caused Chrollo to question his own affairs when it came down to his involvement with a certain temperamental bond Kurta that he seemed to have generated a recent obsession with, still trying to understand the salacious feelings he had been having towards the young man.
Now it was like every thought no matter how minute it was, came laced with debauched visions of the blond standing exposed before him, submissive expression upon his crippled and defeated visage with those blue eyes transfixed on his own as Chrollo would let his fingers trail possessively over each and every muscle and cord that lined the Kurta's lithe, yet powerful body, slowly drawing them over those shoulders, down the boy's sides and along those girlish like hips. The very idea caused him to shiver and the way it made him feel, the stirring it gave, those very reasons were making it definitely hard to ignore. Understanding the basis behind these strange notions was nearly unexplainable, but the more Chrollo sat and thought on it, the longer he dwelled on every possible aspect of it, the greater he felt the allure. Curiosity started to prove it was a more dominate part of his raging indecision and for him, he was beginning to like this new sensation.
Down to his core, Chrollo was a thief and he took whatever it was he desired. Kurapika would be no exception.
The only question remained was the fact of exactly the depth of his feelings. He began to ruminate again over the prospect of turning the beautiful Kurta into viable lover, even if the boy was unwilling, Chrollo would ensure that there was no other way and compel the blond into it. One way or another.
A hubristic grin crossed his lips and it was then the finalization to his plans had been set into stone. He was indeed more than interested in the blond then before and whether or not they were for his own selfish, twisted ways, the end result stayed the same. He wanted Kurapika and with a passion that seemed to burn brighter then the sun itself. However, it was a delicate process and would take time to concoct. Getting the blond to come to him willfully, if by choice or not was his preferred method for addressing the situation. The last thing Chrollo wanted to do was cause Kurapika to run off and then he would have to hunt the boy down again and by that point things could be far worse than when he started. Earning the blond's trust was at the forefront of his mind. He was too valuable for Chrollo to allow slip away, so keeping the precious Kurta close was top priority.
Picking his book back up, Chrollo reopened it to resume his reading, succumbing back to its calming pages as all he could was wait now for the predisposed blond to find him.
§§§§§§§
Kurapika stretched his legs, every muscle was relatively stiff, unfortunately having spent the better part of six hours cooped up and confined in the inadequate seat he had to remain in for the duration of his trip to the Arukan Convenient, which was an absurdly long distance from Ti'alma. Exiting the landing pad and gathering his belongings , the blond heaved a pent up sigh – these trips were becoming rather tedious and he wasn't sure exactly how much his patience would hold out if Chrollo Lucifer really thought he was going to continue to impel him on this ridiculous chase.
Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly tapped up a message that was primed to be sent to Leorio, and sending it before wandering off into a secluded corner, taking a moment to collect himself and finally breathe.
"So where the in the hell are you now, damn bastard?" He questioned spitefully, though he expected no answer as he materialized his chains once again, relying on their ability to establish a feasible direction that he could consequently work with and locate his elusive target. Dowsing Chain this time had a better read on which way Kurapika should proceed in as the length of silver with its metallic ball on the end held a steady position that pointed in the direction of east, which was where the city of Patalor resided, the one that from what memory he had of it, was a place renowned in its vast array of trade and high class civilization. Truly, if that was where the man had gone off to, Kurapika wasn't surprised. Just like someone who gasconades everything they proffered through unjust means and then embellish on it. The man really was preposterous and the blond just could not get his brain around it, no matter the presentation.
Shaking his head, he started towards the bustling lot where people were arriving and departing to hail a cab, knowing that the distance between here and Patalor was longer then he cared to walk and after duration of time he spent pent up on that airship, he did not relish the idea of placing more stress on his legs the need be. Kurapika was really beginning to execrate the entire circumstance.
It was a rather warm summer afternoon, especially for a city that resided so close to the tropical region of the map and the humidity Kurapika surmised was already elevated for the early time of the day. Brushing his hand deftly over his forehead he removed the sweat that was beginning to bloom upon his brow and flagged down a nearby cab, and after sliding into the back seat, he spent pretty much the entire trip in silence.
His thoughts aberrated, falling back over the distressing plight of his current situation, especially the abstract interests that his body seemed to be having towards his inimical enemy, which Kurapika could still not even begin to fathom why he'd be having. He hated being conflicted and unsure, hated the fact that he was being torn from nearly the inside out and that the unpleasantries were only stemming his further confusion. Slowly it was defining him, trying to controvert against his own morals and ideals, corralling him into swaggering to a completely different point of view. It was an incessant stream of frivolities raging like a tempest within his mind and the longer such continued to happen, the more and more Kurapika was finding it difficult to contend. The knots in his shoulders had returned and the tension that assaulted his body only served to prove that the inward struggle was very real. His fingers came up to rub attentively at his temples; the minute respite granted him a temporary moment to at least complete the taxi ride without wanting to practically rip his head off.
Once he reached the downtown area of Patalor, he kindly thanked the driver and paid the man before returning his focus to the imposing sights of the flashy and glamorous city. There was so much activity, easily triple to the populace of Ti'alma and the flowing throng of people moved with definitive purpose. Kurapika tightened the cloak around his effeminate form – he had grown rather found of the velvety piece of fabric which had made him feel so secure aside the sentimentality of his tribal clothing, and continued his trek in the direction his chains were once again, guiding him towards, using In once more to veil his presence.
Hours ticked by, the light of the day had began its descent into that of late afternoon and it seemed like he was not getting any closer to finding the man amiss such a enormous place that was filled with long, streamlined buildings which stretched into the vast and rapacious sky. There was so much area to cover and only so many hours left in the day; the Kurta was beginning to grow weary. If his situation did not alter, the chance of locating his target while it was still light out was becoming slim to nil. Close to resigning, he trudged through the winding streets which were filled with the low humming tenor generated by the hustle of city life; even the lights accentuated the majesty that Patalor certainly held. There was nothing insipid about the place; quite to the contrary, it was quite boisterous, flamboyant and ostentatious as he expected as such. Even the people that milled through the streets made no attempt to even conceal that fact. Kurapika was sure he stood out in stark contrast to the attire that most of the locals wore.
The sound of low rumbling snapped his partially dazed attention and he realized that he had not eaten in hours – to be frank, not since before he boarded the airship to leave Ti'alma. Groaning irascibility, he settled on trying to assuage his growing hunger and started searching for an interesting place to grab a meal. Kurapika didn't even know where to begin and just settled into an aimless canter until he ran across something that came off as eye appealing. It didn't take long before a quaint little curbside café came into view and relinquished into entering the place, taking in the soothing and relaxing atmosphere that it at least offered. Finding a table relatively far enough to place a comfortable distance between himself and the other patrons, the blond lowered the hood of his cloak and picked up the menu which rested on top of a red tablecloth.
He was just about to look over its contents when a familiar voice captivated his attention, the tenor and depth of it held way more familiarity then it should and he glanced over to his immediate left, catching the sight of a dark, raven-haired man sitting just a few feet away with his back towards him, an upside golden cross adorning the back of his midnight hued coat.
Instantly the blond Kurta hissed between his teeth and jerked up the hood of his cloak, hoping that he hadn't been noticed.
Unconsciously his hands curled into fists, the chains upon his right hand tinkled in acrimony, his blood starting to boil.
It took every ounce of self-control and determination not to practically leap up from his seat and assail the man. Kurapika closed his eyes in regret, but he could tell that the immediate fluctuation in his emotions instigated the change their color and the last thing he needed was for that to give him away. Calm, he had to remain calm and taper his emotions; enacting now would only instill adverse repercussions that he simply did not need.
Being so close to the older man and the ignominy he generated only provoked at his restrained anguish, and the one thing that affrighted Kurapika down to the center of his very being was losing his hatred and animosity. Which the lack there of in its usual intensity worried him. Grated, he still harbored languish over wanting to extract his insatiable revenge against the other, but the height of its fervency wasn't really there like it was.
It was a realization that petrified him. Never had he ever envisioned slacking on bringing about desistance of the very thing that had haunted him for most of his life.
What in the hell is happening to me?
Kurapika stiffened and maintained his focus on retaining hold on In; one slipup and his entire cover up could be blown.
Quietly he sat and observed the man with intense scrutiny, the menu had returned to his hands as he tried to deviate his focus enough to scan its contents while trying to feign the appearance he was just any other regular patron and to secure the chances of not being detected, Kurapika pulled the hood over his face a little more, making sure a good portion of his face was shrouded.
Such an attempt was futile, however. Just as the blond was about to resume his browsing of the list of food choices, the sensation of being observed washed over him and Kurapika lifted his gaze to come nearly head on with unblinking, dark and mesmerizing eyes, the abyssal pull they instantly had caused the Kurta's breath to hitch in his throat and suddenly his heart went to palpitating in his chest. Without any warning, a squall of heat rode its way through his abdomen and the hue of his skin turned to a defining shade of pink.
Kurapika swiftly averted his eyes, having noticed that the Spider's leader was staring over his shoulder back at him, the weight in those eyes was judging and calculating, drawing and beckoning and Kurapika was finding it almost impossible to sever the hold it was having. He began to breathe rapidly, lungs straining and chest constricting as his entire world obfuscated like it was caving in on him.
Whatever was happening to him it was dragging him down into a besetting storm, like a raging sea engulfing him and pulling him under which left Kurapika feeling like he was drowning. Every part of him twisted and harried the longer he remained close to the bewitching man. The very thought of those eyes watching over him, burning into him, eating him alive and the humiliation he was suffering from his own emotions bidding towards the allure and enticement of those eyes only made he feel like he was losing a part of himself. This wasn't right, nothing about it was, and yet, something kept nagging at the back of Kurapika's mind to walk over to the dark-haired man, grab him by the shoulders and as opposed to delivering a series of laden punches to that gorgeous face, instead, capture those ample lips with his own and draw the other into a passionate kiss.
All the fury, the paroxysm and the despondency he had been carrying for the majority of his life coalesced into one flooding rush of emotions and Kurapika just couldn't take it anymore. For so long he had endured, and endured and endured just to end up like this? Clutching his head in a poor attempt to steady himself he bit back the welling tears, knowing that he was on the verge of complete and utter, collapse.
Why was he being continuously tortured like this?
§§§§§§§
Patalor held a vast promise that could nearly be offered to anyone, but its greater semblance of prospect were held towards those of vast wealth, though wasn't such to say that the less fortunate couldn't find their niche within the grand city.
But for someone like Chrollo, it was abundant with riches and treasures beyond comprehension. One of the landmarks he had planned on eventually visiting during his group's many places to rapine was Patalor, itself. For a city filled with so much glamour and so glorified, it was hard to resist the temptation of descending chaos and despoil upon the magnificent city. Such wasn't the case, now. The Geneiryodan leader had other plans, other prospects and invoking a raid upon the land of fame and gold would have to come later; for now, Chrollo had set his sights elsewhere.
The tall, encapsulating man found himself seated at a rather eccentric café, though the furnishings weren't gaudy as they were quite lavish for such a city as Patalor, but oddly enough, the ambient music and atmosphere that arouse from around the building was enough to importune a sense of relaxation and calm. Even the low resound of the chatter around him wasn't enough of a distraction to procure him away from his involvement with the cup of tea – Chrollo usually never wavered from his daily habitual activities, but the difference in pace was actually nice for a change. The herbal blend of rose and honey added to the smooth taste and aroma that the tea held. It certainly was different from coffee, but the deliverance of caffeine wasn't completely absent from the brew, so he indulged in the luxuriant sensation the liquid had to offer.
Everything around the city slowly started to come even more alive as the sun had begun to lower in the horizon, falling into late afternoon. People rushed about their own daily routines without hesitation, flowing almost concurrently like ants moving through a hive and it was amazing to watch as the cogs in the machine continued to turn and tenaciously. Chrollo also had simplistic tastes as well; watching people and observing their habits was not unusual.
Fingers clasped around the handle of the tea cup and he brought the rim to his lips when a intermittent flux in pressure captivated his attention and he gazed back over his shoulder to catch sight of someone sitting at a table behind him, that same dusty colored cloak he so remembered a certain blond was wearing back in Ti'alma had miraculously – and finally made his way to Patalor. Now Chrollo was thoroughly amused. The man was beginning to have his doubts after the third day had passed uneventfully but as luck beholden, there was the very person whom had been dogging him for weeks now. He could sense the young blond's eyes upon him despite he was attempting conceal his presence – inadequately at that, even though Chrollo felt no aura emanating off of him. Apparently, which made sense, the witty Kurta was veiling his presence behind In, the same he did back in Ti'alma as well. Difference was; Chrollo was already aware of Kurapika's propinquity just by his sheer disguise alone which he was sure the boy hadn't realized was blown back in the desert city. The other reason was due to the Kurta being excessively obvious.
How the boy really had concluded that he wasn't drawing any attention was not only bewildering but highly gratifying.
It wasn't long before Kurapika's avaricious curiosity got to the better of him and for eternal moments, their eyes locked and Chrollo could instantly see the inner turmoil the pretty Kurta was wallowing through.
Every barrier that his advantageous and studious blond thought he had carefully enacted was slowly starting to deteriorate. He could clearly see that the young hunter was gravely conflicted, torn and haunted by his own emotions, and the beginnings of his own requiem was starting to form.
Adamantly, Chrollo surveyed the war torn blond, even as the indisposed hunter tried to temperate the desperation that flickered over his beautiful face. It was the very same he could tell was clutching the boy so tightly, so mercilessly, even amiss the faint recognition of desire and need, such wasn't annulled from the Kurta's eyes as Chrollo saw the flash of prurience beneath those captivating blues before the boy unfortunately averted his eyes.
How intriguing it was. Indeed, the tides were turning and Chrollo could see that his precious blond was beginning to feel the same pull of attraction that he himself had already begin to experience. Oddly enough, it was like the two of them were connected, intertwined and perhaps fate was playing some rather cruel and perplexing game with them. Not that the notorious criminal minded, quite to the contrary.
Things were going over rather well, despite it was still quandary. He would have to continue to extract caution if he wished to keep nurturing and goading the blond into the exact situation he wanted him in. Chrollo was sure the Kurta was still going to blatantly keep following him no matter the circumstance as such has already been proven due to the boy's continuous persistence, which the reason for the initiation he still had yet to learn. But considering the recent outcome of events, Chrollo figured the time to find out was getting close.
Indeed it appeared as if everything was ready to advance it again to the next level. For everything was efficiently coming together, practically all wrapped up in a neat little package. Such a delicious endeavor and Chrollo had complete and total control. It was titillating, and the thrill of being oh so close to ensnaring that unique and prodigious butterfly didn't seem to satiate his growing appetite. In fact, it only encouraged it.
Just a little bit longer and the overzealous Kurta would fall easily and willingly right into his open arms, leaving the blond so malleable in changing that quixotic nature of his Chrollo could almost taste it. All he had to do was quench that derisive and burning hate the blond clutched so ferociously to if he was to make complete progress. So long as that remained, it would eventually end at an impasse. Something Chrollo wasn't going to allow.
Kurapika just need a little more nudging and once he started to see that his current ways were only eliciting more grief then not, everything else Chrollo noted, should fall readily into place. Consequently it was just merely a matter of time before he would reach the desired outcome with his Kurta.
Aferthoughts: Expect to see the changes in Chrollo's personality to actually manifest a little sooner then Kurapika's, but the changes will happen in relative close proximity of one another. It was a bit difficult writing this chapter due to the perception changes I had to write for Kurapika. Though I have a few ideas in the running for the next installment.
From here, I hope to be releasing one chapter per week, pertaining I don't run into real life hitchups. Chapter six should be loaded soon.