Killua stepped forward into the ring.

The first thing that hit his senses was the noise and clamor of the crowd. It rang almost painfully in his training-enhanced hearing, and he consciously adjusted to it—not ignoring it, but setting it at a lower priority than other sounds. He didn't need people to cheer for him to know what he was capable of, and it was bad practice to listen carefully to anything that could be distracting in the fight.

The second aspect of the arena he noticed was the light. Multiple spotlights shone directly onto the arena, illuminating it fully.

The third, of course, was the new face standing across from him, the opposing force for his match.

His opponent for the day was a complete stranger, an unimportant stranger. The man was someone the white-haired boy would forget as soon as he stepped out of the ring, victorious. He knew he was being arrogant, but he was tired of always having to be pessimistic, tired of training against his family. Today he would win. What else could be the result when the foe was barely worthy of the title he was given?

"Begin!" the referee shouted.

His opponent rushed towards him, yelling an unintelligible war cry.

Killua raised an eyebrow, less then amused, and stepped off line, hitting the man in the back with his palm. He was thrown into the arena wall on the opposite side.

"K.O.!" the referee shouted. Knocked out.

Killua gazed straight ahead as he walked out of the ring. Idiot. Can't you tell he's dead?

He barely heard someone telling him to report to the 180th floor.

Killua gazed down at the money card in his hand, feeling strangely detached. If he'd had money during the Hunter Exam, he would've spent it all on chocolate.

He went up to his room and found boxes and boxes of chocolate. Killua didn't even remember ordering them, but somehow it didn't surprise him that they were there. He opened a box and nibbled on a Chocolate Robot antenna. The antenna was as delicious as ever, though the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach did not abate.

I guess some things never change.

The 200th floor. Milluki said he was better than me. I'll show him.

As soon as the doors of the elevator opened, Killua could feel it. An oppressive pressure all around him that might, had he been less trained, have forced him to turn back to the lower floors.

There were no signs of other people, but a sixth sense warned of immediate danger. He paused for a fraction of a second to center himself more firmly in his knowledge of his own capabilities and continued walking.

As he started down the final hallway, walking became physically difficult, like he was pushing through layers and layers of thickening mud as he walked. This is how it feels, sometimes, when we're training and Illumi thinks I'm getting overconfident. He says I'm not ready to learn, but I wish he'd taught me to counter it; at least I wouldn't be in this situation, with someone who might want to kill me using it against me.

Looking down at his feet as though trying to persuade them to take another step, Killua saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he instantly recognized Hisoka, who had been eyeing Gon for much of the Hunter Exam. The pressure in the air thickened to the point where it forced him back several steps. Killua struggled to keep his feet as he was pushed away from Hisoka as if by strong wind.

And then, suddenly, it was gone, replaced by another strong aura. But this wasn't as disagreeable to his senses, and wasn't directed at him. He didn't need to look; he could recognize Illumi's presence anywhere, and now it was behind him, and all around him.

Illumi held him upright, not unlike helping a toddler take his first steps. Killua relaxed into his supporting arms, completely exhausted, as the pressure around him dulled and vanished.

"What have you done to my brother?" Illumi's voice was perfectly calm as it always was, and Killua scrambled to his feet to get behind him. He did not want to be between those two if they decided to settle their differences with force.

Illumi evidently thought the same. "Killu... go."

As Killua ran for the elevator, Illumi gazed fixedly at Hisoka's eyes. Outwardly, his regard was calm, but any Nen user would have noticed at once that his aura seethed with barely restrained anger. "I told you once before. If you hurt my brother, I will kill you."

Surprisingly, a card did not materialize in Hisoka's hand. So he wants to talk."He's still fine, ne? You never said I couldn't have fun with him..."

"You would do well to find another plaything, Hisoka." If you ever want to hire me again, for one of your special favors...

"But we were just getting started, really. And besides, he provokes such interesting responses."

"Responses?"

Hisoka chose not to answer his question, instead saying, "You followed him here."

This was, Illumi realized, a relatively straightforward answer.

"I could kill you." It wasn't a threat, more of a mutual acknowledgement. You know that I could kill you, but you also know that this is not a provocation that will force me to do so.

"Then we will fight?" Hisoka licked his lips, drawing a card from thin air.

He saw Hisoka shift the card from drawing position to throwing position. "How about right here?"

The three of spades.

The third child. Danger.

Killua could already be seriously hurt. Nen wounds didn't always show.

"I don't give my targets warning, Hisoka."

"It wouldn't be much fun if you did."

"Until next time, then."

Already turning away, Illumi heard Hisoka repeat the words. "Until next time."

He didn't want to think about the other meaning of the three of spades. The three of swords, as it was once known.

Betrayal.