Chapter XXVIII

"There it is. Heaven's Arena."

Valtiel stirs from where she is buried under a blanket given to her by a flight attendant. She pulls down the eye mask and yawns, and then blinks sleepily at Hisoka.

They have been on this flight for eight hours. The magician occupied himself with his playing cards and hummed a cheery tune that lulled Valtiel to sleep almost in an instant. She had been exhausted from the raid earlier that morning, and then was completely spent after her confrontation with the Danchou. Her cheeks burn in embarrassment upon remembering that part.

Instead, she decides to humor the magician and looks out of the window, only to see the temple for fighters that is, indeed, Heaven's Arena.

According to the flight attendant's tourist guide, the arena is the fourth tallest building in the world with 251 floors. Craning her neck to get a glimpse of the entire building from top to bottom, Valtiel has to agree. It is the tallest building she has seen so far.

"We can eat lunch before we get in line," Hisoka suggests.

"Line? What line?"

"There's always a line, at least that's what I've been told." He grins and plays a card between his fingers. He whips the black Joker at her face and she flicks it away with her index finger, feeling the card's sharp edge slice through her skin.

The card flies across the cabin and hits a passenger over Hisoka's shoulder, the card embedded deeply into the man's neck. The man goes limp in his seat, oblivious to what hit him.

Valtiel pulls the blanket over her head and shrinks as the flight attendant hustles to the dead passenger.

Hisoka is laughing again. He finds everything amusing that it is hard to strike a nerve in this one. Not like Nobunaga or Phinks: easy to annoy. The magician is all laughs and giggles. Always. Not that she minds.

"I heard there are thousands of fighters every day," he adds. "It'd be a long wait."

Upon disembarking, the pair finds a small fast food restaurant near the airport. Valtiel's eyes are wide with wonder, poring over the restaurant's ambiance and menu at the front. When is the last time she has been in a fast food before? Did she and Chrollo ever eat in one? She couldn't remember, and she could care less now. At almost three in the afternoon, she is hungry and she shuffles to a seat while Hisoka orders some food.

She blinks down at the tray of burgers and fries. She is used to Chrollo's fancy steaks and venison. She watches as the magician eats the food, and then she smiles to herself and follows his lead.

An hour later, they proceed to the arena's base and wait for the long line to finish. It takes them another two hours to register, before being led to the first floor. Valtiel gapes from the top of the staircase, counting sixteen rings, each with different ongoing fights. She follows at Hisoka's heel like a puppy afraid to be lost and sits at his right with nervous hands on her lap.

"You look pale," he observes.

"I have never really fought anyone before," she says. "And the one during the raid does not count," she cuts him off, before he could say anything. "I have only ever practiced with my teacher and sometimes Fei-san." She feels small in this place, surrounded by rigid-faced bulky men.

"You're always so nervous." He laughs again, tapping his heel on the marble ground. "Fidgeting like a little robin. Are you sure you should be here? Not with Danchou and the others?"

"I told you once and I will tell you again. I am not−"

"Numbers 1824 and 5002 to Ring C!"

The blood in her face immediately drains. Hisoka throws his head back and laughs.

She shoots him a little glare before standing and joining her opponent in the said ring.

To her utmost relief, her opponent is not one of those burly men, but rather a lean one, with a mass of curling brown hair and lanky build. Almost like Bono-san. The man assumes his stance, and so she does as well.

Her opponent lunges, quick like a snake, and jabs at her direction. Valtiel blocks each with her fingers curled and her fore-knuckles as deterrents, and strikes back by striking the man's most vulnerable part: his throat.

The man coughs and wraps one hand around his neck. He hisses at her and keeps lunging, to which Valtiel keeps defending herself and striking when the opportunity arises. At the man's last attempt for a butterfly kick, she bends low and grabs him by the knee.

Palms flat over the joint there, she breaks the joint and the man spasms in great pain. He falls to the ground, clutching his left knee now twisted in a strange angle. She looms over him and breaks more joints: his other knee and two elbows. His scream dies down as the referee declares Valtiel as the winner.

"You can advance to the 50th floor," the referee says.

"Oh, can I proceed to the 20th instead?"

The referee raises an eyebrow, but just nods and hands her a paper.

Hisoka is clapping as she goes back to him. "Impressive. What did you do?"

She makes a face, sinking to the seat. "Just broke the joints, made sure he's disabled."

"Joints? Which ones?"

"Here, I'll show you." She turns him around to face her and pinpoints. "Here, the elbows, the knees. Akamu-san always made sure I go for the major ones. It makes sure the opponents stay down." Hisoka nods like a diligent student under her tutoring. She continues: "The joints in the shoulders and hips are also good, but if I want to kill an opponent, I should go for the head."

She cups his cheeks and gently pretends twisting his head off his spine. She leans away, smiling.

Hisoka nods again, thoughtful. "I want to try that next time," he says. "One piece of advice though."

"Yes?"

"Don't tell others your fighting style. You're so gullible, it's very cute."

"Oh, very well." She frowns, though she does not blame him. He does have a point.

"Numbers 865 and 5003 to Ring L!"

"Whoops!" Hisoka stands excitedly. "That's me!"

"Good luck," she calls out after him, wondering how the magician would do against his opponent.

She has watched him fight once, against Omokage, and Hisoka has the speed and the wit in battle to overwhelm his opponents. Omokage stood no chance, though the other Spiders said the puppeteer let himself to be defeated, to get out of the Troupe. She does not understand that part at least. Why would Omokage want to leave? And what is the talk of him completing his puppets? It sounds a bit disconcerting to her, uncertain how his abilities work. According to Danchou, Omokage is a Specialist, and it is only right to fear Specialists with unpredictable abilities.

"Number 5003! Advance to the 190th floor!"

Wait. She squints at Ring C and finds the magician already sauntering back to her. Finished already?

Hisoka waves the paper. "Let's go. Which floor are you on?"

"You're finished?"

"Why, yes."

"But… so quick?"

"Oh, that's one thing I don't hear often."

She blushes at the damned implication.

"What happened to your fight?"

"Like you told me." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. His opponent lies supine on the floor, head twisted and gnarled like a tree root. "Broke the joints in his neck to kill him. Your technique is very useful. So−" He waves the paper at her face again. "Which floor?"

"Oh, I have 20 next."

For the first time, his voice is serious. "You're joking."

She laughs and flashes the paper. "I requested the referee to send me to the 20s. I like to take all the floors, if you don't mind."

He blinks again, uncomprehending and rather unamused. This is the first time she breaks through his cheery demeanor. She has to admit, the feeling of triumph is sweet.

"I'd like to see what it's like fighting on every floor, even if I don't win all matches. Just for the fun of it, I suppose."

"Okay, then." He glances at his paper and slumps. "I have 190th floor."

"You should go to it."

"And leave you behind? Not-so-Eyebrow Man will kill me. What's his name?"

She gurgles with laughter. "Phink-san!"

Hisoka's amber eyes gleam, mischievous. "Yes, him. And then there's Topknot guy, too." He starts ticking off the Spiders in his fingers. "There's Miss Congeniality, Tech-savvy Boy, and Darker than Black emo kid, and of course, Machi. They will kill me in the next mission if they find out I deserted you here."

"So you remembered no one else's name except Machi-san's?"

"Oh, and Danchou, too. Chrollo Lucilfer." He licks his lips.

"You're so bad with groups, are you not?"

"I don't do well in big groups," he agrees. "Though I can work with pairs." He winks.

"But then you will have to meet Uvo-san and the others," she continues, taking his wink in stride.

"You will have to introduce me to them. I'm quite a shy person."

"Says the one who twisted someone's head."

He smiles innocently. "I have my reservations."

In the end, Hisoka skips his 190th floor match and waits for Valtiel as she completes all her matches from the 20th floor to the 100th floor. She would have to return tomorrow morning for her next match, while Hisoka keeps declining his own matches, missing three in a row. It unsettles the Heaven's Arena management and he receives a call that evening.

"It seems they are forcing me on a match tomorrow," he tells her after the call has ended. They are staying in one of the small lobbies on the hundredth floor, intending to spend the night there on the couch. Most of the fighters are sleeping here as well. "Do you think I should accept it?"

"Of course you should. You missed three already. They will ban you from participating ever again if you keep playing around." She yawns and curls up on the couch shared with two other fighters. Hisoka is sitting cross-legged on the floor, entertained by his card pyramid.

"Then I shall fight tomorrow," he decides. "Will you cheer for me?"

"What do you need cheering for?" she mumbles, fighting off sleep to talk to this restless magician. Now that she thinks of it, she has never seen him sleep. His eyes are always open, guard hiked up at the max−befitting the latest Phantom Troupe member.

"I need friends," he says with a little whine. "I need to know someone is out there cheering for me."

"Okay. Whatever." She pulls the blanket over her head and drifts off to sleep. She could feel Hisoka's long claws patting her over the fabric. His movements are slow and soft, as if lulling a kitten to sleep.

"So you will cheer for me?"

"Yes, yes, Hisoka-san. Let me sleep. I have around ten more matches tomorrow."

He hums and keeps patting, trailing sharp claws over her jawline. It tickles her. "Ah, yes, you have matches as well. You can count on me cheering for you, Valtiel."

"I don't doubt it."

Her 180th floor opponent gave her a rather hard time. The man was an exiled knight−or so he told her for the last thirty-seven times during their battle−and battered her with blows on the forearms before she broke the fingers of his both hands, then twisted his shoulders off their sockets. She wondered if Feitan would be proud if she told him how she broke the knight's fingers, always starting with the pinky, just like he always instructed her.

Nevertheless, she is inside an elevator now, on her way to the 190th floor, cradling her aching forearms and standing right next to a cute little boy in a purple hoodie.

She steals glances at him and wonders how someone so young and small could fight in such a violent place. She notes stark silver hair, long and wild, reaching the boy's shoulders. He has his hands inside his hoodie pocket, with his azure eyes looking boredly ahead.

"What are you staring at?" he suddenly snaps at her.

She flinches and tears her gaze away, embarrassed. "Nothing," she mumbles. She glances once more, testing the waters, and the boy still looks bored. "You're very young."

"And you're very obnoxious," he points out.

"I doubt you even know how to spell obnoxious."

The boy jerks and looks up at her. Instead of annoyance, she sees amusement reflected in his azure eyes, made brighter by the light in the elevator. He smirks at her retort and she smiles back, feeling at ease in his presence now.

"What's your name?" she asks. "I'm Valtiel."

"I know," he says, haughty.

"How would you know?"

"I keep tabs on everyone I might fight on my way to the top floor."

The elevator dings and he steps out, with Valtiel following closely behind. The 190th floor signage is large and bright at the lobby.

"But not everyone, though," he adds. "Just the ones with potential, including you and your clown buddy. It's unfair. You guys started yesterday and already here, while it took me two months to get on the 50th."

"Two months? Then how long have you been here?" She leads the way to the waiting room for the fighters.

"Almost two years." He settles on the seat next to her and holds out one hand. "I'm Killua, by the way."

"Then you started very young," she says, still in awe of this little boy.

The way he stares around the burly fighters in complete boredom says something about his confidence. She wishes she has the same level of confidence, but with her battered forearms and purple bruises on the shoulders, she hopes her next opponent would not be as much troublesome. Hisoka is waiting for her somewhere on this floor. After her match, she is supposed to regroup with him so they can register together for the 200th floor.

"You're thinking why someone so young shouldn't be here, huh?" Killua muses.

"Um, yes." She nips at her lip. "When I was your age−" She stops then, painfully reminding herself that her memories are not hers to share, simply for she remembers only half of them. The other half is still in the dark, triggered only by certain names or words. "Never mind," she recovers.

"I wish they'd let us fight."

"I don't." She frowns at the thought of it: losing to a little boy.

"Why not?" Killua grins up at her. "It'd be an interesting fight. You and your clown buddy are probably the most interesting fighters in the last three months. I am not in the same caliber as your friend, but maybe I can take you on and defeat you." Again, he grins, that innocent cheeky grin kids always do. "No offense."

The loudspeaker crackles: "Killua and Ross, please report to the 198th floor, Arena B."

Killua stands and sticks his tongue out. "Pfft. Guess we're not fighting then."

"Good luck!"

"Yeah, I don't need it." He waves a hand and disappears behind a door.

Of course you don't. Valtiel finds one of the large television screens mounted on the wall and waits for Killua's match.

His opponent is already in the ring: a marauder. The crowd cheers when Killua approaches the ring, fixing his larger opponent with the same blank stare, as if he could will himself somewhere else than here. The referee explains the rules and bids the match begin.

Valtiel studies the marauder's movements, light despite his hulking build. Yet Killua is faster, more cunning, and more deadly. The boy sidesteps every blow and rounds towards the marauder's back, hitting the back of his neck with a quick, powerful chop. Killua lands gracefully on the floor, while the referee declares his win as a total knockout. The crowd bursts into loud cheering. Killua's only indication of his triumph is a nod towards the audience.

Again, the loudspeaker crackles: "Harun and Valtiel, to the 198th floor, Arena B, please."

Surprised that she is fighting next, Valtiel scrambles out of the waiting room and rushes across the long bright hallway. She blinks as she notices Killua at the other end, with the boy breaking into a victorious grin at her. She ruffles his silver hair as she passes, hearing something akin to a quiet laugh from the boy.

Her opponent is another large man, roughly the same build as Uvogin. He wears an iron skullcap with cheekpieces and mail neck guard. He sneers beneath his helmet as his slight opponent heaves herself up onto the platform and takes a defensive stance. He cackles at that, amused that she is already on the defensive upon seeing the difference in size.

How am I to defeat that? Valtiel studies the man's entire physique: helmet and neck guard, shirtless, with iron gauntlets and sabatons. Though he is scarcely clothed, his muscles ripple throughout his body, cords of braided iron for arms and legs. She gulps then, not enchanted to meet her early demise to this guy.

I probably cannot meet him head-on, she still ponders. Not in close combat, either. It will be like hurling myself into the eye of a storm. But Akamu-san did not teach me how to fight head-on. I am trained to disable. Joints, bones, maybe even the softer parts.

Harun tightens his fist and slams it into his palm. She gulps again, deaf to the referee's announcement.

I have to disable him somehow.

"Fight begin!"

Harun charges at her like a stampeding bull, all heavy torso and thundering footsteps. He aims for a right hook, which Valtiel dodges at the last moment, and then delivers a stronger uppercut that sends Valtiel flying across the arena. She rolls to the floor in great waves, the stone crushing beneath her weight and Harun's force. When she tries to stand, Harun is above her again, smashing both fists onto her back.

She chokes on blood and spit as Harun steps back a little, no doubt enjoying her moment of weakness. Somewhere behind them, the referee is giving away points. Harun's shadow looms over her head and his fist tightens.

I cannot take that again. He'll crush me.

As his fist descends, she rolls out his the way again, still on the defensive, arms up to shield her face. Harun slaps her so hard she feels her bones cracking. A little defensive aura around herself saves her from suffering a broken neck.

She receives every brunt of his punches with Ren as her defense. Harun is strong and relentless, and she guesses he is one of those fighters whose philosophy is to strike fast and strike often. She studies his movements between her arms.

There, she notes as Harun slaps her again. She falls back on her haunches and keeps her arms up defensively. When he raises his arm for an attack, there is a small gap in his shoulder. I can exploit that, but how?

The armored man gives chase and punches the ground. Flurries of white rocks explode under his fist.

Should I use my ability? She pants and tries to catch her breath. No, I can't. Not in this crowd. It's too early.

Harun trudges towards her. The referee declares the points as 9-0. One more clean hit and Valtiel is out of the challenge. She would have to suffer in the 180th floor again.

As her opponent aims for another right hook, Valtiel pounces out of the way and wraps herself around Harun's muscled right arm. Her legs around his wrist, her hands forcing his boulder-like shoulder into submission, twisting it from its socket with a hard pull. Harun reaches out for her and so she twists again, dangling upside-down around his arm. She makes quick work with her claws, shoving an entire hand into the soft, vulnerable flesh of his armpit.

Blood gushes from the wound, but she is far from finished. With her second hand, her claws dig into the open wound and tears through the flesh. She finds the bone of his shoulder easily and yanks it from its socket. Harun howls like a beast in pain and falls to his knees, his right arm limp and bloody at his side.

Valtiel pants and wipes at her face, smearing herself with his blood. She rounds towards his left, golden eyes locked upon his brown eyes, as she reaches for his other shoulder and gives another pull. The joint cracks beneath his tanned skin. The claws of her right hand shoves once more into the flesh, tearing veins and flesh the way both Akamu and Feitan taught is best.

The match ends with Harun collapsing to the floor. The crowd goes wild and chants her name.

Only then does the enchantment break. She shoots the referee a nervous look. "Is he dead?"

"Yeah. Ruptured insides and some broken bones."

Damn Feitan would have been so proud of that.

The referee gives her a ticket to the 200th floor. "Congratulations."

She thanks him with a meek smile and sighs tiredly. Did Hisoka watch the fight? Well, she would know soon enough. The magician should be waiting for her somewhere. All she needs to do is find him.

At the hallway intersection that leads to the 200th floor, Killua is waiting for her.

"You were great," he says by way of greeting. "And you can use claws? I never knew anyone else who can do the same thing! I thought it was just my brothers and me for our training. Awesome!"

"My training for the claws was not so easy."

Understatement. It was a nightmare with Feitan sneering at her every step of the way. On top of that, she had Akamu's life on the line. She would never forget that harsh moment of her life. She peers down on this boy and knows for sure he couldn't have gone under the same harsh treatment. His face and eyes are bright with the natural wonder of children.

"We should head straight for the next floor," Killua suggests. "More powerful fighters there."

As they turn, they both feel something malicious.

At the end of the hallway, a young man stands. Killua instinctively growls at the sight of him.

Shoulder-length jet-black hair. Black eyes. Pale moon-white skin. He stands to block the elevator that leads to the 200th floor. He studies them both, standing close side-by-side. His blank mask reveals nothing of his thoughts, and he only tips his head to the side, as if inquiring, his black locks falling over one shoulder.

When he speaks, his voice is cold and sharp. "Killu, what did I tell you about making friends?"

"I gotta tell you she's not really my friend," Killua fires back, balling his fists in his sides. "Move, Aniki. You're making us late for our matches."

"If she's not your friend, then certainly you wouldn't mind my disposing of her." He produces needles from behind his back. They gleam under the fluorescent light.

"Leave us alone," Killua keeps growling.

"Us," his brother repeats, as if the word is foreign. Round black eyes stare deeply into Valtiel's terrified expression. He almost chuckles. "Us… I don't like that word when you're with someone else, Killu. How many times do I have to tell you... drill it into you?"

He takes a step closer and Killua freezes on the spot. His brother smiles, devoid of any emotion. "You have no right to make friends."

In a blur of pitch-black, the brother is already upon Valtiel's face. He punches her in the gut, knocking the breath out of her. His force sends her through the ceiling, breaking through several floors. He gives chase and pounces after her, needles at the ready. Below them, Killua is screaming for them to stop.

Valtiel's gaze continues to blur as she coughs more blood. Her latest opponent is faster than any others she has encountered in Heaven's Arena; he cuts her off in mid-air and knees her in the gut again, this time hurling her towards the arena's eastern wing. She slams through ceilings and walls, the electric cables and fluorescent lights destroyed along the way. She surrounds herself with aura and forces herself into a stop, claws digging into the floor as she slows down.

Her entire body spasms from pain, both from Harun's attacks and from Killua's brother. Her platinum-blonde braid comes undone from the onslaught. She watches between the strands as the brother approaches her with cold grace, a predator closing in on his prey.

He kicks her in the stomach, forcing another bout of retching blood. Her vision blurs all the more, as the man picks her up by the neck and holds her high above his own head. He slams her against the wall−once, twice−spreading spidercracks across the stone. Her blood oozes from the gash, staining her hair and dripping to her shoulders.

She gasps when his hand tightens around her neck. She could feel her windpipe giving away from his sheer strength. On instinct, she wraps her hands around his wrist, claws outstretched, digging long red lines across his otherwise unblemished alabaster skin.

The man narrows his eyes, his only indication of pain perhaps. She could not really tell; her vision is blurring and is slowly turning into red.

"Don't you ever come near my brother again," he says in a quiet voice.

Blood gurgles in her mouth. As much as she would like to speak, retort some snide comments, her blood prevents her to do so. Her aura flow is steady and her desperation to get out of his grip both urges her to spit blood onto his nonchalant face. He closes his eyes briefly to ward off the pathetic assault. In that brief moment, Valtiel dispels her aura from her body, creating a crimson sphere around themselves.

Despite her failing vision, she sees how the man stops completely in his tracks. His hold on her neither strengthens nor relaxes; his black eyes do not flicker despite the assault. He is still like a mannequin, but only for a tenth of a second. The sphere disintegrates and the man starts moving again, confused about his momentary lapse.

He shakes his head. Blood drips from his nose, though he is entirely unperturbed. He takes one of his large needles.

"You have lovely eyes," he says and hovers his needle above her left eye. "Pretty red ones. I should like to take that home as a souvenir."

As the needle descends, a card comes flying out of nowhere and flicks the needle out of the man's grasp.

Killua's brother frowns as he pounces backwards from someone else's attacks. The lights flicker overhead, making an enigmatic show as the other person stands over the young woman's limp figure on the floor.

"I would like to ask you to handle her with care," Hisoka drawls. He sensually licks at an Ace of Hearts. "She's very fragile and I was asked to babysit her. My employers will kill me if she is harmed more than she is now."

"Yeah, right." Valtiel coughs blood on the carpet. She writhes on the floor and clutches her aching stomach.

"Oh. I thought you're out cold." Hisoka giggles, amber eyes gleaming down at her, before turning back to their black-haired opponent. He cocks his head to the side, red-purple hair glinting under the light. "You are a very strong fighter. If you'd like to fight me, it'd really be great."

"I am not interesting in fighting you," says the other man. He points at Valtiel with another needle. "I want her life, for overstepping her boundaries in talking to a Zoldyck. I want her head on a platter."

"Medium or well done?"

The dark-haired man blinks, unimpressed.

Hisoka pouts. "You're not fun. You don't get my jokes."

The other man blinks again. "So, can I kill her?"

"Stop, Illumi!" Killua arrives on the scene. His azure eyes dart back and forth: to the destroyed ceilings and furniture, the blood on the wall, to the clown standing over Valtiel writhing on the ground. He snarls, a low rumble deep in his chest, and blocks his brother's pathway. "That's enough, Illumi! You're out of control!"

"You dare lecture me, Killu?" Illumi's voice drops into low snarling. It tenses Killua more. "You lecture me about control when it is you who disobeyed by orders."

"No! She's not my friend in the first place," Killua reiterates. His cheeks are red, his eyes glassy. For all his haughtiness earlier, he is just an eight-year-old boy. He gives his brother a pleading look. "Please… There's no need for this… Let's just go… Let them go."

Illumi stares at the magician again.

Hisoka grins back, wide and cheerful. "You should go," he suggests. "It's probably the best. If you won't let her go, then I will take your brother as hostage and we will have to make a trade so late in the evening. You know I can make that happen."

To cement his point, he surrounds himself with a dark foreboding aura that makes Valtiel flinch and Killua jump behind his brother for protection.

"I understand." Illumi nods. The dark pink aura dissipates from the magician. "I will not risk my brother's safety for that woman." He puts a protective hand over Killua's silver hair. "But if your woman so much as talks to my brother again, I will take her tongue for that."

"Will keep that in mind," Hisoka says as the two brothers retreat. "Oh, and my name is Hisoka, by the way!"

"I don't care," Illumi says dryly.

They are gone after a few moments.

Hisoka giggles to himself, "What a lovely pair," before crouching next to Valtiel and pushing some of her locks away from her face. He whistles, amused. "Wow. Look at yourself, Val. You always look so prim and proper that I think you're incapable of looking like shit." Then he slaps a hand over his mouth. "Oh, no. I didn't mean to say some obscene words. I bet Danchou wouldn't let you hear them. Or does he?"

Valtiel glares at him. "Help me up. If you won't, just be quiet for a moment."

Still giggling, the magician smooths her hair back and scoops her up in his arms. He gazes down on her, glossing over the cuts and bruises on her forehead and cheeks. Her blood still oozes from the gash where Illumi had slammed her on the wall.

But his attention is on her eyes, half-lidded and framed by thick pale lashes. "That's weird," he muses as he carries her out of the destroyed room. "I thought your eyes were yellow, or gold. They're different now."

She nods, exhausted to the core, and rests her head against his shoulder. "I know," she murmurs. "Even I don't know how it happens."

They find a corner on the 200th floor where Valtiel could clear herself of blood and fix her hair, before proceeding to the register. At Hisoka's insistence, he magically produces a handkerchief with which to wipe her blood. He flicks his hands and wrists to and fro, the bloodied kerchief rolling between his fingers. With a gentle blow, the kerchief disappears and the blood turns into small crimson butterflies.

"You are very theatric, are you not?" Valtiel notes on the way to the register.

"But of course." He chuckles. "As always."

"Welcome to the 200s!" A female employee gushes over the counter. She wears the usual bright pink uniform and hat of every employee in the arena. "Please fill out this registration form!"

As Hisoka bends down to his paper, Valtiel blinks at the employee. "Another registration form? Why?"

"Yes, yes! The 200s require another form because this time, Heaven's Arena is not liable for any injuries or deaths you may suffer!"

"I am already injured now," Valtiel points out. "And I am not yet fighting on the 200th floor. Is the management not liable to tend to my injuries?"

"Um, well, no…" The employee's voice quietens in her defeat. Hisoka just snickers at the exchange.

"Well, that rule is very unhelpful, is it not?" Valtiel sighs and proceeds to work on her registration form, while Hisoka has already finished and waves the paper as he waits for her. She eyes every information needed, but halts at a particular one, her pen poised over the line.

He blinks over her head. Last name. He noticed that yesterday she hesitated putting her last name as well. He hums and taps a long nail on the counter. "Can't spell your last name, dear?" he purrs.

The tease and the endearment remind her of someone else. She hides her face from the magician's teasing as she shrugs and passes the form to the employee, leaving her last name blank as she did yesterday.

She turns to face him. "Oh, I must not have mentioned it before," she says. "I had an accident and lost some of my memories−but I remember the most important ones now," she adds quickly. "I only have troubles remembering certain events and people…"

"That would make a very good bedtime story," he drawls, turning towards the hallway behind, "but later, perhaps. We have company."

A man and a woman are standing close together. They are like mirrors to each other: the same dark brown hair, green eyes, and olive skin. The man is wearing a martial artist's garb of white robe and red sash, while the woman wears a red-orange crop top and grass skirt with multi-colored floral belt.

The man levels Hisoka and Valtiel with an even stare. "Good evening. We are called the Mercurial Twins. My name is Cato."

"And I am Arianne," the sister adds.

"Right." Hisoka nods, cheerful as ever. "And they call us the Diabolical Duo. I am a magician called Hisoka−" He jerks a thumb to his companion's direction−"and this is my pretty assistant, Bazooka."

She rolls her eyes and nudges him with her elbow. "I'm Valtiel, and I am not his assistant."

The twins glance at each other, leering.

"We are here to welcome you to the 200s," says Cato. "We have been watching your fights and decided that both of you will be our next opponents."

"We're planning to welcome you through Nen," Arianne adds, licking lush lips, "but it seems both of you are already Nen masters of your own. It should make our fights interesting."

"Do you agree to fight?" A thin sheet of aura surrounds Cato and extends to his sister.

"If we say no, you're still going to force us anyway," Hisoka says with a soft laugh.

"Exactly." Cato's aura evaporates upwards. "If we can agree to a schedule now, you can fight my sister. And I will fight her, your companion."

"I can fight whenever you want me to," Hisoka says.

"Tomorrow then," Arianne rules. "You and I in the arena, magician."

"I'll look forward to it."

"And the day after that." Cato searches for Valtiel's eyes. Green upon gold. "You and I."

"Of course." Valtiel wonders if she could recover that fast. "You and I."

"Then it's settled." Cato and Arianne spare them one last glances before turning to a corner.

The tension in the atmosphere recedes then. The female employee clears her throat and presents them pair with one key. "I am very sorry, but there have been major problems with our rooms tonight. Most of the eastern wing was destroyed by an earlier confrontation between fighters. Right now, we are encouraging fighters to share rooms until we can finish the eastern wing's reconstruction."

Valtiel dips her head. Her and Illumi's fault. "We'll take the room."

"Oh?" Hisoka's lips slowly curl into a smirk. "Sharing a room with me, Val? Is that even safe?"

"If you want to sleep outside, be my guest, Hisoka-san." She receives the key and heads straight to the left, to room 2044. The magician follows at her heels.

Upon opening the room, she gapes at the luxurious interior, from the gleaming chandelier to the velvet carpet, an enormous bed, kitchen, and bathroom. There is an entire window to the left, overlooking the city below and revealing the midnight skies above. She runs a hand over the smooth pillows and gazes out in the horizon. It feels being inside a five-star hotel−exceedingly different from the home she shared with Chrollo, with their small bed and vintage furniture, the swing in the porch. She misses that life, the warmth and simplicity, but then remembers she cannot go back to that time anymore, after her one fatal mistake including someone with dark hair and answers to Danchou.

Hisoka feigns a tired sigh and slides from the wall to the carpet, legs outstretched before him. "If you want, you can take a shower first. You look so haggard, Val. I bet the Spiders won't even recognize you."

She studies her reflection in the window and laughs. Somehow, she looks worse than her training days with Akamu and Feitan. Grabbing a towel and robe from the closet, she locks herself in the bathroom and rids herself of two days' worth of sweat, dust, and blood that mingle together to create an unpleasant smell.

After her, it is the magician's turn. She eases herself onto the gigantic bed and brushes her long hair, working on the tangles. She checks on her phone every now and then, waiting for the Spiders to send her a message. So far, she has received only one−from Shalnark−with a photo attached.

15:38 Shal-san: Touchdown, Ardan Isles! (Open attached file)

The photo reveals Shalnark between Machi and Pakunoda, the three of them posing in front of a white futuristic mausoleum with a domed roof. Shalnark has the biggest, brightest smile, while Paku smiles softly and Machi crosses her arms and smirks.

15:39 Shal-san: Wish you were here, Val!

It warms her to know that someone actually wants her company, unlike someone else she knows, whose name shall not be repeated today. The very mention and thought of this one man−who shall not be named twice−quite puts her mood down. When she had asked for his apology and he accepted, she thought it was the end of the awkward tension. But no, this man never asked her to stay and she would not want to stay with someone who does not want her presence in the first place.

As her mind goes back to the recent events, the magician steps out of the bathroom, naked but for the white towel wrapped loosely about his hips.

Valtiel stares at the exposed body as she brushes her hair. When Hisoka shifts ever so slightly and she realizes that she has been staring, she snorts and turns away.

"You like what you see?" Hisoka teases. He leans on the bathroom's doorframe and folds his arms.

"Don't be so cliché, Hisoka-san." She huffs. "I've seen something like that before."

"Ah. Let me guess. Chrollo?"

Her eyebrow twitches. He whose name shall not be repeated is mentioned again. "It doesn't matter who," she retorts, her little nose up and her eyes closed. "The point is: there is no need to flaunt yourself like so. Get dressed or people might get ideas."

He chuckles while fetching a robe for himself. "I should like to give people ideas," he backfires. "You're beautiful, and I have superhuman good looks, if I do say so myself." He shrugs the robe on and combs his fingers through his damp hair. "I think we will make quite a charming pair. The Diabolical Duo, remember?"

She wrinkles her nose in distaste. "That sounds very awful."

"Does it?" He grins from ear-to-ear. "Couldn't tell."

"You look different with your hair down like that," she murmurs, still combing her own locks.

"You like it?" Hisoka grabs an extra mattress, pillows, and blanket from the closet and prepares his own bed on the floor. His red-purple hair falls over his shoulders. "Or do you like it only because it reminds you of a certain someone?"

"Definitely not." She rolls her eyes, and then blinks. She peers down at him over the bed's edge. "What are you doing on the floor? You do know the bed is large enough to accommodate four people, right?"

"Oh, that would be improper." He stretches and folds his arms beneath his head. "Did you really think we'd share a bed, Val? That's a pretty cute thought−but no. The Spiders will kill me." He scratches his chest, the robe falling open wider, boasting a muscular chest and torso rippling with muscles. "Maybe next time, when we know each other much better. I'd let you sleep next to me." And he winks.

"Forget I ever asked," Valtiel groans and turns off the lamp on the bedside table. She settles herself on the bed, aching limbs stretched as far as they could go. Her eyes are on the chandelier. "I'm so tired."

"You promised to tell me about your memory loss," he murmured in the darkness.

"Do you really want to hear something like that?" she shoots back, exhausted.

"Tell me a story."

In the darkness, she laughs and peeps down at him again. "Shall I tell you the story of my childhood? I am afraid it won't make a great story. I don't remember much of it, and it is always about the Spiders."

Hisoka's amber eyes catch the silver moonlight. They gleam in the shadows. "Tell me about the day you lost your memories," he requests. "Was it in an accident?"

"An accident, yes. But not in a normal accident. I fell from a very high cliff to save a friend."

"Interesting. Tell me more."

"Oh, very well then." Valtiel starts recounting the night of rain and blood. She finds the change of ambiance quiet pleasing. She is used to reading books and sharing her ideas, but tonight she is the storyteller and she has an attentive audience listening to every word.

Going far back, she is used to fancy restaurants and dinner, but since yesterday she eats cheap burgers and fries. She is used to someone else's gaze critically observing her every step, but ever since she left she has never felt someone else's attention on her.

As her story comes to an end, way past midnight, she believes leaving the Phantom Troupe behind is her very best decision.

Author's Notes: *nervous laughter* Okay... I might have forgotten to update my stories for some weeks... My apologies, everyone! Everything's gotten so busy with real life and I didn't even realize that October is upon us! Which means... Halloween costumes! I've been deciding between a hotdog, a dinosaur, or either Alluka, Kikyo, or Kalluto actually. I was leaning towards Alluka or Kalluto because I'm dark-haired, but then I also kinda want to wear a Victorian dress and let's be honest... Kikyo's visor is awesome. So yeah, I'm stressing over my costume. All suggestions would be highly appreciated!

And since it took me forever to update, I'm gifting all my patient *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧FRIENDS *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ this very long chapter to make up for the wait. Hold on, there's more—I have also finally included my all-time favorite Zoldycks (S̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ ̶S̶i̶l̶v̶a̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶Z̶e̶n̶o̶!̶) in this story! It took forever to get Killua and Illumi into this story that it hurts my fangirl heart. But now that they're here, LET THE CHAOS BEGIN!

Also, I'm running short on time to reply to everyone's reviews from the last chapter, but know that I love all of you and I believe in you guys! Whatever you're going through, you can make it! I hope you're all enjoying your weekend!

See you all next chapter!