Prophecy

Panic

It was taking Kurapika tremendous amount of willpower and self-control to stop himself from pouncing on Kuroro Lucifer now sitting across him to wipe that smug smirk off of his face and punch him until he bled to death.

Okay, maybe the vibes he gave off as he sipped on his coffee so calmly like this was just one sunny morning was another point to take into account. For one: this Kuroro wasn't like that man Kurapika captured months ago, beat to pulp and left stranded helplessly in the middle of nowhere. Twice stronger, more menacing, more confident and if anything, more arrogant. This version of Kuroro Lucifer was far more intimidating, and Kurapika's guts were telling him he shouldn't jump the gun and wreak havoc here.

The place had to be taken into consideration as well. They were in the dining lounge of the VIP decks of Black Whale. There were people around, quite a lot of them, with names and titles amongst the society. One wrong move and it would cost him his post as one of the legit bodyguards of one of the Kakin princes. In fact there were a number of factors that preventing him from letting his anger get into his head more than it already had.

He was having his short coffee break in the lounge when this bastard casually approached his table and asked for the vacant seat. He almost lost it there and then upon seeing the distinct dark eyes and hair with a bandage around his forehead covering a cross-shaped tattoo on it. But when he was about to get on his feet, Lucifer spoke with his deep and brusque voice, eyes sharp and warning, aura ferocious and roiling about, killing intent directed right into him that had Kurapika frozen on the spot, instinctively wary and disbelieving.

Oh, god. This couldn't be.

The Judgment Chain had been lifted...

"Stay still. Sit back and let's talk, if you please," the unnervingly good manners and the smile plastered on his face contrasted the bloodlust he was shooting exclusively to him. Kurapika grew more unsettled but he sensed the eyes around the lounge that began to turn towards their direction, likely because of his sudden movement or they were sensing Kuroro's oozing dark aura.

He sat back down his chair, eyes not leaving Lucifer's that were looking back at him. Kurapika mustered all the discretion he could sap out of himself and breathed in, deep but not visible, to calm himself down.

Question started to flood his mind once he believed he could think straight. How come Lucifer had the chain lifted and he didn't know? What on earth was he doing here? And why the hell did he become so much stronger than he was before?

Silence settled between them as they regarded each other contemplative looks. Kuroro beckoned the waiter and made his order while Kurapika studied him from head to foot with glaring eyes that threatened to shift into scarlet any moment by now. Kuroro spared him a glance that told him that his reactions amused him with a 'you really hate me, don't you' mocking narrowing of his eyes.

The bastard was making fun out of his temper and Kurapika couldn't do anything about it. His sheer existence brought raging wildfire of wrath enough to burn hell to crisp, and that bled on his entire expression. But he had to keep it cool because he couldn't afford to lose it here; not now that he had gone this far, with his opponent twice or even thrice much stronger than him sitting so casually across him. Thanks to growing up and becoming a young boss and a leader to his fellow bodyguards, he learned how to manage his anger and keep his mind in check else he would have chocked Kuroro with his nen chain.

Lucifer's coffee arrived shortly, and that was when Kurapika decided to break the ice.

"What do you want?" His voice was flat yet edgy.

"Relax, boy. I mean no harm," he shot him a piercing stare that sent chills down Kurapika's spine and shit, he really had gone into a whole new level. "There's no need for hostility. I just want to talk, really."