Chapter Text
Kurapika felt uncomfortable.
He didn't show it, of course, keeping a dazzling smile on his lips at all times, but he knew the uneasiness was there in the darker parts of his mind. It was only normal anyways, something that set in every time that he had an important mission to carry out. His goal was simple enough; the line drawn to it circuitous but easy enough to follow. It was the execution part that was really getting to him. He sighed.
Scanning the crowd, he looked for any sign of his target. At the very edge, loitering at the outskirts of the crowd like a predator that had his sights on his prey, he saw him. Kurapika suppressed the trill of nausea when he found he was the recipient of such a perverted stare from the other man. Kurapika'd been watching him for a while now, gauging his target's interest, and now he was sure that it was time to make his move.
Flicking his gaze to the side, he gave a slight nod to Queen Oito, who gave him an almost imperceptible smile for luck. Sauntering towards him, the other man's smirk widened. Kurapika shuddered before running through his mess of a plan.
He was doing this for Queen Oito, for Prince Woble, and for his people. That vile man had the last pairs of the Scarlet Eyes, and he was loathe to let such an opportunity slip past his fingers. Fighting him was off the table as well, as his nen capabilities were still a mystery to him. There was only one route to take that could possibly work. Yes, he told himself, failure was not an option. And if he was to seduce Tserriednich, Fourth Prince of the Kakin Empire, to achieve his objective, then so be it.
He'd heard of the man's rather... interesting endeavors and tastes from the many rumors that circulated from some of his more gossipy bodyguards, and Kurapika knew that he was the best candidate to complete such an unappealing deception. It was going to be difficult, of course, to keep the sadistic man's attention on him for an extended period of time, but he would manage. He had to.
Weaving through the crowds with careful movements, he had almost reached his victim before another frame blocked his view.
"Excuse me sir," he murmured. Fear heated in the pit of his stomach because he couldn't lose this chance; he wouldn't lose this chance. Still, Kurapika kept a polite smile on his face before attempting to brush past the other person without looking away from the Fourth Prince. The person obstructing his path seemed to have other plans, however. The man seized his wrist, pulling Kurapika back in front of him. Making sure that Tserriednich wouldn't notice his delay, the blond met the stranger's eyes for the first time, accusations ready at his lips.
And then he froze. Kurapika prayed that what he was seeing was just some sort of trick or illusion, and that surely, the leader of the Phantom Troupe wasn't standing right in front of him. Once he realized that he was not, in fact, going mad, and the Spider Head was indeed just a couple inches away from him, Kurapika felt irritation of all things resurface.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed lowly, eyes darting around to make sure that his target hadn't moved from his position.
"I should ask you the same thing," the monster said back, voice chilling as it was companionable. The Kurta shook his head impatiently, surprised that none of the anger and sadness that he had expected to feel had welled up. Lucilfer gave him an calculating once-over, eyes lingering for a moment too long at his face. "And with such an interested choice of dress, too."
Something akin to insane laughter bubbled up in his throat, and Kurapika slapped a hand over his mouth. Kuroro looked stunned, face going comically blank. What an impossible situation he found himself in. He was face-to-face with his worst enemy, aboard a boat of murderous princes, and the only thing that had occurred to the other was the clothes he was wearing. Was the man really so shallow?
Glancing down at his attire, Kurapika understood the other's point of question. The suit he had donned on was just about crossing the line of scandalous. It was form fitting and specifically designed to display his slender yet muscular frame, and it drew every eye, male or female, to him. The cut was very expensive, of course, but the material of his undershirt was so thin that it clung to his body in ways that he deemed immodest. It was a bit over-the-top, if he was being completely honest, but he knew that he needed every ounce of sexual appeal he could get.
"It's none of your concern," Kurapika replied coldly, once he had scrapped together what little composure he had left. "And if you are here to cause trouble, I suggest that you reevaluate your decisions. You are treading on a battlefield here."
"I know that," the dark-haired man said, but he looked like he wanted to say more. Kurapika didn't bother giving him a chance.
"Then, if you will excuse me." This stilted sort of formality between them was growing stale. He made to shoulder past him.
"Wait." The command was quiet but so full of confident authority that he paused.
Kurapika turned back, exasperation clear on his features. "What is it? I don't have time for idle chatter."
"How is it that you are so composed? Last year, the very sight of me would have set you off," Kuroro stated, voice clearly baiting.
Shrugging, the blond removed the hand around his arm. "I made a promise. And I will not break it on a petty whim." Again, he made a move to walk towards his target. Kuroro just watched him thoughtfully, assessing.
"Who are you looking for?"
Clenching his jaw, Kurapika turned back to look him square in the eye. "It's none of your business." Checking around for the prince, he panicked when he saw that he was gone.
"But what if I want to make it my business?" Kuroro stepped forward and Kurapika forced himself not to retreat. He was about to respond with another scathing remark when he felt cold fingers close around his shoulder. He didn't even had to turn around to know who it was behind him. Fear iced cold through his veins.
"Excuse me, but is this man bothering you?" a sickeningly sweet voice said into his ear. Kurapika didn't have to fake the shiver of disgust that ran down his spine. Plastering a brilliant smile on his lips, Kurapika turned to come face-to-face with none of than the Fourth Prince Tserriednich. Lucilfer immediately stiffened, his face flickering with minute confusion at the blond's sudden change of expression.
"Nothing I can't handle," he responded, voice kept low and flirtatious. Shame ran hot through his veins but he ignored it. He pointedly did not remove the hand placed heavily on his shoulder. "But thank you for your concern, your highness."
The man's face brightened at the honorific and another hand found its way around his forearm. Kurapika couldn't suppress the flash of pure revulsion that the prince's touch caused him. By the look of faint alarm in Lucilfer's face, the Spider had noticed as well.
"I was just about to pull you aside to speak with you myself," Tserriednich admitted, breath cold and distinctly wrong against the back of his neck. "Perhaps I could steal you away from your lovely chat to discuss some of those offers you were extending to my dear siblings." It obviously wasn't a question, more of a half-witted demand from a spoiled child. "Under any of your conditions, of course."
"It would be a pleasure," Kurapika agreed, and tried his best not to flinch as he felt a hand come to rest against the small of his back. The Phantom Troupe leader's expression stirred with something dark and strange that Kurapika couldn't identify before the Fourth Prince steered him away to an adjacent hallway.
Once they were completely alone, Tserriednich dropped his arms away from the blond —something that Kurapika was immensely grateful for— in favor of circling him, eyes assessing. Kurapika immediately brought up his guard, mentally preparing himself for whatever the man was going to do. That was the part that irked him the most; the Fourth Prince was just about as predictable as the vicious monsoons that used to ravage his home village. One wrong step and he would be swept away into the chaos. But, if Kurapika had played his cards correctly, the prince would simply be curious and not inclined to kill him. At least, not yet.
"You know, you fascinate me," Tserriednich revealed, moving in closer to inspect the blond's face. "Somehow you've managed to string along my little brothers and sisters with your plans and empty promises; you've beaten this unbeatable succession war to standstill. You must be pleased with yourself, then." An odd little smile flitted across the prince's lips as he tilted his head.
"I do what I must," Kurapika responded carefully, tone still quiet and personable, something that derived what sounded like a satisfied purr to escape the prince's lips. "It all depends on how willing my competitors are to submit." Allowing the last word to curl suggestively in his mouth, Kurapika looked up at the other man.
"Having all those rotten princes eating out of your pretty little hand must be a an invigorating power play, hm?" He inched closer, grasping the blond's chin roughly. "But why work for that helpless Fourteenth Prince when you could serve me?"
Indignation chipped away at his cool facade in response to the slight against his charges, but regardless he felt a thrum of satisfaction as his plan came to fruition. Tserriednich had taken his bait. Now, it was time to reel him in.
"However tempting that sounds, I have already pledged myself to my employer. But, I will always be available if you wish to negotiate an agreement." He let the end of the sentence fall with an unspoken question, just subtle enough to prove intriguing.
Then he spun away, moving so quickly that Tserriednich barely had time to react before he was a good few meters away from him. "I'll be taking my leave... unless you require me for anything else." He counted down the seconds before the prince would call him back.
One.
Two. Uncertainty gripped him. Could he have been wrong?
Three.
A hand jerked him violently back and Kurapika knew that he'd succeeded.
"Please, I insist that you stay with me tonight—"
Kurapika's mind reeled at the implications. The prince's grin widened.
"—so that we may discuss the details of your offer, of course," Tserridnich finished. With a chill, Kurapika realized that he would much rather face down the Phantom Troupe leader for eternity than have to spend one more moment in the prince's presence. At least the sociopath of a spider had been predictable. Tserriednich, on the other hand, was a loose cannon poised to explode at any moment.
Nevertheless, responsibility weighed heavy on his chest and he went pliant under Tserridnich's grasp. He let a hollow shadow of a smile curve upwards on his face. He would play along with his game, for now.
"As you wish." Tserridnich's appraising grin widened.
"I can tell that you're going to be an interesting one," he said slowly, as if savoring his next words. "I'm going to have fun with you."
And so, with his skin crawling at the other's contact, Kurapika let himself be led towards Tserriednich's table in the dining hall like a docile lamb to the slaughter.
Walking back quickly to Queen Oito's quarters, Kurapika tried to shake off the memory of Tserridnich's clammy fingers against the back of his neck, the feel of his wandering hands ghosting down his back. The man had never really tried anything—it was in his nature that he would wait until his victims were long dead before touching them, Kurapika supposed. Still, there was something revolting, perverse, about the man that set off every alarm bell in his body.
At the end of the night, though, Kurapika comforted himself with the fact that he had accomplished his task. He'd spent the past few hours indulging the prince with his knowledge of fine arts and the classics, capturing his attention in a way that Kurapika was certain his previous victims hadn't yet done. In return for meeting him more in the following days, Tserriednich had promised to leave Oito and Woble untouched for the moment.
"Do not see this as a promise, though, my dear," the prince had warned him, eyes unnervingly bright as he looked at him. "It all depends on how long you hold my attention."
He'd punctuated this kind of quasi-truce with a kiss, a flash of cold tongue flickering at Kurapika's cheek. The blond's skin still prickled from the phantom sensation.
It was an unfavorable thought, to have to endure the other's sickening nature for another day, but it was something that he was willing to go through if it meant that his employer would stay protected. Running a hand through his hair, Kurapika started to formulate a proper plan for the upcoming encounter. He hadn't expected that his operation would really prove to be so effective.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't register the the man in the corridor adjacent to him until said man had grasped his coat and tugged him into a darkened entryway.
"What the hell are you doing?" Kurapika hissed, yanking back his sleeve from the other's grip. He glared up at his assailant, all pretenses of politeness gone. Lucilfer stared right back. The Spider tilted his head.
"You're going to get yourself killed," Kuroro told him.
"Do you really think that I don't know that?" He scoffed. "Anyone with half of a brain could say the same." He was about to turn away when two hands clamped down on his shoulders, holding him in place. The man's breath was warm against his skin as he leaned in closer.
"Let me clarify; if you die, you'll mess up my plans," Kuroro said succinctly.
"If I don't carry out this plan, I'm going to die either way."
The Phantom Troupe exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh. "Always so do-or-die with you, Kurapika."
Irritation flared at the use of his name. "Do not fool yourself into thinking that you know me," he spat. "I am doing what is in the best interests of my employer and myself, no matter how misguided my methods may be," Kurapika informed him levelly, "so I advise you to abandon whatever heist you're trying to carry out. You and your comrades should stay away from this battle while you still can."
"They're not with me."
Kurapika's eyes snapped back to the other man in shock. The Phantom Troupe leader was always accompanied with one or two of his members. Why was he not now, heading into an unknown and uncharted land? Earnestness was painted clearly, almost too clearly, on the man's features.
"What do you mean? You always have a few trailing after you," Kurapika accused.
"I've told them to go their separate ways until I contacted them further," Kuroro revealed, much to Kurapika's surprise.
"You're about to enter the Dark Continent and you left your little entourage behind? That's quite illogical," he remarked.
"A few might have followed me, but that is against my explicit orders," Kuroro admitted truthfully, something that the Kurta found very confusing. Why was Kuroro telling him this? To the man that had once sworn to kill him, no less?
"Why are you telling me this?" Kurapika asked warily.
"Because I want you to trust me," the other responded honestly.
At his words, Kurapika immediately tensed. "What do you want?" he questioned, voice dangerously quiet.
A smile formed at Kuroro's lips. "Perceptive as ever. What I want is not much of consequence to you, but what I require from you is something you'll have to find out."
"Then have fun trying to gain my so-called 'trust'," Kurapika quipped, stepping out from under Lucilfer's hold. Slipping back into the hallway, he cast a hand behind him. "May our paths never cross again, Lucilfer."
The dark-haired man blinked. "Ah, but sometimes you don't get your way," he muttered to the empty hallway. And then he continued to stroll through the halls, mind still fixated on a certain blond's face.
Until tomorrow, then.
To be Continued...