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Chapter Text

Kurapika picked his way over the bodies of unconscious passengers and bandits alike, bokken held loosely at his side. He could hear faint sounds of fighting and shouting from the other cars, proof that at least some of the other hunter exam hopefuls were holding their own. How many of the others, he wondered, had noticed that these so called “bandits” were only using blunt weapons, and hadn’t taken any valuables from the passengers? Or, for that matter, that the only passengers aboard this train seemed to be hunter applicants?

In hindsight, it was obvious that the Hunter Association would have to cull the applicants before they reached the test proper. Even with the Association’s near limitless resources, sorting through three to five million people a year was a tall order. Preliminary tests like these would bring that down to a reasonable number, and force those too weak out of the running before they got hurt. Well, too badly hurt, he amended, stepping gingerly over a pool of blood.

An unexpected noise broke through Kurapika’s musings, and he ducked behind a seat, readying himself for the worst. He could hear the door open, then close, before a pair of footsteps began to draw near. Only one set, but by now the bandits must have the remaining passengers outnumbered, and would be sweeping for survivors. Kurapika would have to take this one out before they called for help; there were only so many people Kurapika could fight off at once before being overwhelmed.

Once the footsteps came close enough, Kurapika lunged, knocking the bandit to the ground. Before he could knock the man out, the bandit twisted, and kicked out at him with enough force to send Kurapika stumbling back down the aisle. He raised his bokken, preparing to charge, then paused. Instead of the furs and clubs the bandits had, the man — no, the boy, Kurapika realized, barely even a teen — scrambling to his feet was dressed in a brightly colored costume, emblazoned back and front with an exclamation point, and held no weapon, only what looked to be a playing card. This must be another passenger, heading to Zaban to take the exam.

Kurapika sheathed his bokken, then dodged as the playing card sliced through the air towards him. “My apologies.” He said hurriedly as another two cards appeared in the boy’s hand. “I mistook you for one of our assailants.” The boy narrowed his eyes, but didn’t attack. “I was hoping to hold this car against the bandits until we reached Zaban City. You’re welcome to join—”

Two cards whirled past his ear, and he whirled around in time to see them both sink into the chest of a bandit coming through the door. “Hmm. Apology accepted. But these bandits seem rather determined to clear the train; I overheard them talking about getting a bonus for knocking out every single passenger on board.” Far from worried, the boy actually looked rather amused by that, tapping a painted nail against his arm. Kurapika frowned, considering. It seemed these pre-trials were going to be more thorough than he had anticipated, and two people could only hold this car from the full force of the bandits for so long. If that were the case-

“All right then,” Kurapika decided. “Help me get this window open.”

On the roof of the train, Kurapika found another surprise waiting. Another child, even younger than the first, sat cross legged on the roof, fiddling with his phone. A curtain of black hair hid his face from view, until he turned to look at them. “Oh.” He said, tipping his head to the side. “It’s you again.”

“Ah!” Kurapika glanced over as the boy with the playing cards made a pleased noise. “Illumi, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

“We didn’t get the chance to speak on the ship. I’m Hisoka.”

“I didn’t ask, but OK.”

“And this is…” The boy, Hisoka, gave Kurapika an expectant look. He ignored it, instead addressing the younger boy directly.

“We’re going to head to the conductor’s car to see if we can hide from the bandits until we reach the city. If you can hold your own in a fight, you’re welcome to join us.”

Illumi cocked his head to the side, sweeping his hair back over his shoulder. “Bandits? Sorry, I haven’t noticed anything like that.”

Hisoka raised an eyebrow. “Really? Have you been up here this whole time?”

“Yup. I forgot to buy a ticket. But sure, I’ll come with you two.” He hopped to his feet, zipping up his purple jacket.

That was good enough for Kurapika. Turning, he started off towards the front of the train, half crouching to keep his balance. Behind him, the two boys seemed to have no trouble with the swaying of the train or the rushing of the wind, chattering away as they followed him.

“So, Illumi, how did you get off the ship? Weren’t you still sleeping in the hold when I left?”

“Oh, yes. I didn’t wake up until we started sinking.”

“Then how…”

“I swam.”

There was a long pause before Hisoka spoke again. “You… swam.”

“Mhm.”

“Out of a maelstrom that sunk our thousand ton ship.”

“Haha yeah.”

They were only a few carriages away from the conductor’s car when a shout came up from behind them. “I think they’ve seen us.” Hisoka said, popping a square of gum in his mouth. He’d never fought anyone on top of a moving train before. Maybe this was his lucky day.

The blond man grimaced. “I noticed.” He squinted at the distant figures behind them. “Tsk. I can’t tell how many of them there are.”

“Four running towards us. One of them’s talking into a radio. Hey, can I have one?” Illumi didn’t wait for an answer, plucking the package of bungee gum from Hisoka’s hand and popping one into his mouth.

“So much for hiding from the bandits.” Hisoka grinned, grabbing his candy back. “Now what?”

“Right now?” The blond turned back towards the front of the train, drawing his weapons. “We run.”

The three of them broke into a sprint, leaping from carriage to carriage as behind them, more bandits climbed onto the roof to give chase.  By the time they reached the conductors car, there were maybe one, two dozen men and women in pursuit, and more still inside the train, judging from the sound of footsteps beneath them. The blond wasted no time, dropping down between the cars and kicking open the door. There was a squawk from inside, and some complaint or another that Hisoka ignored.

“Both of you, get behind me.” The blond ordered. “Hisoka, use your cards to keep them away. I’ll deal with any that get close. Illumi, make sure that none of them try to come in through the windows. It’s going to take about half an hour to get to Zaban City, so —”

There was an unholy screeching noise, and the train gave a jolt. Hisoka and the blond stumbled as they began to accelerate, and the conductor fell out of his seat. Only Illumi, crouched down at the edge of the car, seemed unaffected.

“What…” The conductor croaked out. Illumi stood, holding out his hand, and Hisoka couldn’t stop an incredulous laugh from escaping. Illumi was tiny; he barely came up to Hisoka’s shoulder, and if he was older than twelve, Hisoka would eat his entire deck of cards. And he’d just ripped the entire coupling mechanism from the train; link, pin and all. Through the doorway, Hisoka could see the rest of the train falling away, slowly sliding to a stop without the engine to pull it.

“This seemed easier.” Illumi told them.

Some time later, after the conductor shakily took down all of their names and Kurapika, as he’d finally told them, had settled down in a corner to read, Hisoka hopped out of the window, pulling himself up onto the roof of the now single carriage train. Illumi was already there, legs folded under him as he stared off into the distance.

Hisoka studied the younger boy, settling down beside him. Illumi showed no sign that he’d even noticed, but Hisoka knew better than to think he’d gotten the drop on him. The boy didn’t look like much; between his petite frame and absentminded expression, there was very little to indicate that he was anyone worth noticing. But it was starting to seem like Hisoka had finally found someone who could match his own preternatural strength and senses. Perhaps…

He flicked his finger, sending a strand of bungee gum at Illumi’s head. For a moment, it seemed like Hisoka was to be disappointed, that Illumi couldn’t see his nen, or hadn’t noticed his attack. Then he shifted his weight, leaning just far back enough that the strand sailed harmlessly past his ear. Illumi turned to face him, lips twitching into a smile.

“Did you know there’s an important artery under your collarbone?” There wasn’t a trace of malice on Illumi’s face, but Hisoka felt his skin start to crawl all the same. “It’s called the subclavian artery. Brings blood to your arms.” Hisoka’s hand flew to his collar, where he found something unfamiliar there. A small round object, flush to his skin. A pin? When had- Hisoka hadn’t even noticed him move. “It’s a nasty place to get cut. You can’t compress it with your ribs in the way, and it usually takes, oh, about a minute for someone to fall unconscious. Then it takes another five, maybe ten to bleed to death, and there’s really nothing you can do about it without a doctor immediately on hand.” The threat hung in the air between them for a beat, as Hisoka stared, wide eyed, at him, heart fluttering in his chest. Then, the boy leaned in close, and, before Hisoka could even think about moving, plucked the pin out from between his fingers. A spot of blood stained his shirt, but nothing else. “Luckily for you,” Illumi told him, tucking the pin into a pocket, “it’s about an inch to the right.”

Oh, Hisoka thought as Illumi hopped to his feet, and ducked back inside the carriage. Here it was again: the familiar feeling of being faced with overwhelming strength; the thrill of watching, learning and growing; the anticipation of eventually getting to crush someone worthy of it. He’d come here to chase down one runaway toy, only to find another all ready for him. And he was so young, too. If Illumi were this strong now, what would he be like in five year? Ten?

Hisoka had no idea. But he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to find out.

“Wow. I never realized medical school was that expensive.” Gon twirled his fishing pole thoughtfully, managing not to hit any of the other applicants packed around them.

“Well, you know how the world works.” Leorio grumbled. “Money makes everything happen.” Seeming to realize he had just spilled all his hopes and dreams out to a stranger, he flushed, turning away from Gon to rub the back of his neck. “W-what about you, huh? Why are you taking the exam?”

Gon shrugged. “I don’t really need to.” He admitted sheepishly. “The Hunter’s Association already knows me, and I work with them sometimes. But my boyfriend is taking the exam this year, so I figured it’d be fun for us to do it together.” Although Killua had yet to make an appearance, weirdly enough. He would have texted Gon if he’d changed his mind, and he was usually pretty punctual. Well, no use worrying about it. This was Killua he was talking about, so it’d all work out in the end.

“Fun? The hardest and deadliest exam in the world? Are you crazy?” Leorio’s jaw had dropped, and Gon couldn’t suppress his laugh. Even though Leorio wasn’t the kind of person that Gon was searching for, it was refreshing to talk to someone unconnected to the world of violence and power that Gon had inhabited since he was a child. He decided, then and there, that he’d do what he could to help Leorio achieve his goal. Killua would complain, but Gon knew the assassin had a soft spot for those who healed instead of hurt. Alluka and Nanika’s influence, maybe, or just a natural part of what made Killua Killua. He smiled softly at the thought. “So where’s your boyfriend, anyways?” Leorio continued, still shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t see-”

Gon’s head snapped up, a fraction of a second before a shriek cut through the air. There were murmurs, and then the applicants in front of Gon started to back off, leaving two figures in the newly empty space. One was a child, picking himself up off the floor. The other, a grown man in a purple cape, dropped to his knees as the crowd watched. “My… m-m-my…” He stuttered, his face contorting in pain and horror.

“Oh dear.” The boy dusted himself off as he spoke. Even from this distance, Gon could make out the smirk on his face, the laughter in his amber eyes. More importantly, Gon could make out his Ten, powerful despite its sloppiness. “His arms are gone. I wonder how that happened?” The boy mused loudly, as the man finally fainted, blood gushing from the stumps of his arms. There were murmurs as the other applicants started backing up even further. “Christ.” Leorio mumbled besides him, as the boy melted away into the crowd.

“I didn’t even see what… how…” Leorio swallowed, then stepped forwards. “Sorry Gon, I should go help before he bleeds to death.”

Gon waved him off, then glanced around, searching for any signs of… there. There, almost hidden among the pipes, were a pair of severed arms, pressed to the roof of the tunnel in defiance of gravity. Definitely some sort of nen ability, maybe manipulation. Gon grinned to himself, scanning the crowd for the boy’s vibrant red hair.

Ging had once described the feeling of finding a new goal or quest to go on as being ‘like watching all the world’s possibilities unfolding at once’, and Gon was inclined to agree. The boy was young, and ill trained if his uneven Ten was any indication, but he had a hatsu already, one he could use so fast Gon had almost missed it. With time and discipline, who knew what sort of fighter he’d become?  

“Did you really have to do that?” Illumi sighed as Hisoka rejoined them. Already, they were getting nervous looks from the applicants around them, and it was making him a little antsy. Too much attention from too many people could be dangerous, in his line of work. Well, it wasn’t like he was on a job right now, so he supposed it didn’t really matter. “You scared off… whatever his name was.”

“Tonpa.” Kurapika muttered, leveling a frown at Hisoka.

“Hmmm. Yes, well,” Hisoka grinned, baring more teeth than Illumi thought strictly necessary, “I don’t deal well with people threatening me.”

“Antagonizing you.” Illumi corrected him. “He wasn’t strong enough to be a threat.”

“I don’t like that either. Either ways, he was being very rude.”

“And that warrants taking his arm off?” Kurapika asked sharply.

“In Meteor City, it does.”

Kurapika’s mouth snapped shut, and he turned away, looking vaguely like he’d bitten into a lemon. A curious reaction, Illumi thought. One Hisoka had evidently noticed as well, given the gleam in his eyes. “You don’t look like you’re from Meteor City.” Illumi interjected, trying to head off whatever mischief Hisoka had planned. The last thing he needed here was another commotion.

“And you don’t look like you could rip a piece of a train off, yet here we are.”

Illumi frowned. “It was just a small piece.”

“It was at least a couple centimeters of solid steel.”

“Right, a small piece.”

“You know, most people would disagree with that.”

“Strange, you didn’t strike me as the type who cares what most people think.” Kurapika said. Whatever it was Hisoka’s comment had drawn from him earlier was gone now, it seemed. Meteor City… Now that he said it, Illumi could see it in Hisoka; the brutal escalation of a tense situation was almost a calling card of the junkyard city. But Kurapika, aloof and even tempered, didn’t seem the sort to have anything to do with a place like that. Although, he supposed, at first glance, neither did his mother, or any of their butlers; you could never really tell what was in a person’s heart until you tortured them.

“Hmm. You have me there.” Hisoka spread his hands, a deck of cards riffling between them. He fanned the cards out, and held them out to Kurapika. “Choose -” He was cut off by a shrill noise, and the grinding of the far wall rising into the ceiling. “Oh?” He folded the cards back into the deck. “Seems like the exam has finally started.”

“I see.” Kurapika mused after Satoz’s explanation. “So it’s to be a test of endurance, and psychological resillience.” Hisoka chuckled beside him as the applicants ahead of them began to speed up.

“How many do you think will drop out in this phase?” Hisoka asked, settling into a comfortable jog.

“I’d prefer not to speculate baselessly. And talking uses up energy.”

“Boring.” Hisoka sighed. “Illumi?”

Illumi hummed thoughtfully, glancing around. For the most part, the applicants looked fit and determined. There were a few weak links, but none that stood out as particularly likely to fail the exam just because of a short run. On the other hand, quite a few had come equipped for a fight, not a marathon. “One or two for the first 100 km.” He predicted. “Maybe five or six every 10 km after that. A lot more after the 200 km mark.”

“Hmm. That’s not nearly as many as I would expect. They have over four hundred applicants to sort through; I would expect the first phase to be more brutal than this.” Hisoka sounded almost disappointed.

“Ah, well, that’s assuming we stay in this tunnel for all of the first phase. There’s probably another part we don’t know about yet.”

“Oh?”

“Illumi’s right.” Kurapika said, stripping off his outer robe as he ran. He was careful with it, almost reverent; that was an anomaly too; he wouldn’t have pegged Kurapika as the type to care for worldly possessions. “There’s only one way to go in this tunnel. But Satoz didn’t say we have to make it to the end of the tunnel before a certain time, he said we have to follow him to our next destination. It’s reasonable to assume that that means there will be a part of this exam where it’s possible for us to get lost.”

Hisoka grinned. “How about a little bet then?”

“On how many make to phase two?” Illumi asked.

Kurapika frowned. “Did you not hear what I just said? We don’t know what the next part of this phase is going to be.”

“I know. And that,“ Hisoka produced the ace of spades from thin air, and gestured at Kurapika with it, “is what makes it interesting.”

Hmm. Well, if nothing else, it would liven up what looked like it was going to be a pretty boring phase. “230, I think. Everyone here made it through the pre-trials, and Tonpa mentioned that there were quite a few veterans.”  

“There we go! But you’re definitely overestimating the other applicants. 150. The first phase is the perfect time for those very veterans to sabotage the others. At least, that’s what I would do.”

They both turned to look expectantly at Kurapika. “Fine.” He relented. “I’d expect the exam to try and eliminate a little over half the applicants in each phase, so lets say 190. Now can we stop talking and just run?”

They managed to be silent for almost an entire minute before something occurred to Illumi. “Hisoka.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not allowed to kill anyone to win this bet.”

“Hisoka?” Kurapika asked as calmly as he could, ducking around a patch of claymore mushrooms.

“Hmm?”

“Where’s Illumi?”

Hisoka’s head snapped up, and Kurapika’s heart sank. So he hadn’t noticed either until just now.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Hisoka said, slowing to a halt. “It seems we have our own troubles to deal with.” He grinned widely.

Glancing around, Kurapika cursed. “We’ve lost sight of the main group.”

“Oh, that too. But I was actually refering to them.” A card appeared between Hisoka’s fingers as he gestured around them. At first, Kurapika could barely make out faint figures in the fog. Within moments, they solidified into clear silhouettes, then into almost a dozen other applicants, all armed, closing in on them. Numbers 66 to 75 wore the same uniform, Kurapika noted, while #76 wore a lighter colour. Safest to assume they were a well coordinated team. Dropping his bag to the ground, he pulled out his bokken as the group began to surround them, turning so he was back to back with Hisoka. He still hadn’t seen Hisoka fight at close range yet, but at a distance, the boy was deadly with those cards. Eleven people should be managable.

He heard one of them, presumably #76, step forwards. “I thought I recognized you. ” The man growled. Kurapika didn’t dare turn to watch, but the enemies he could see were all looking past him. They were likely here for Hisoka, then. He raised his weapons a little higher. “You’re that boy, aren’t you?” #76 continued. “The juggler from the Moritonio troupe.”

Kurapika was utterly unsurprised to hear that Hisoka was, in fact, a circus performer. He was more taken aback by the fact that the name rang a faint bell in his mind. Moritonio… he’d read something about that, very recently. He felt Hisoka shrug behind him. “Guilty as charged.” He sang.

“The one who killed Moritonio in Glam Gas Land two weeks ago. Hundred Face John Doe.” #76 proclaimed, and Kurapika felt his heart stop. Hundred Face John Doe: the victim crushing serial killer who had terrorized the Yorbian Continent for- Wait, no, that couldn’t possibly be correct.

“Wrong and wrong.” Hisoka laughed contemptuously. “John Doe started his killing spree thirteen years ago.” That was right. Hisoka was dangerous, certainly, but he also couldn’t be more than fourteen. Although after that stunt he’d pulled just before the exam started, Kurapika supposed he couldn’t really blame anyone for suspecting Hisoka of being a serial killer.

“His apprentice, then. Doesn’t matter.” He felt Hisoka shift his weight, and prepared to spring into battle as well. “We’ll rid the world of your menace. Right here, right now.” The group lunged forwards in perfect synchronization, a well oiled machine.

Kurapika was faster. Ducking under #68’s nunchuku, he slammed an elbow into his nose, then turned to block an attack from #72. Snapping his pole in half, he raised his bokken to knock #72 out when a card sprouted from the man’s throat, spraying blood all over Kurapika. He grimaced, suddenly very glad he’d removed his Kurta robes, but quickly recomposed himself. Two solid hits had #67 and #75 unconscious, and Kurapika whirled around to defend from any remaining foes.

There were none. Four other corpses lay on the ground, cards sprouting from their broken bodies, and two of the other fighters were struggling with… something, clawing at their faces. Before Kurapika could make sense of the situation, Hisoka mimed grabbing something, and made a pulling motion. There was a loud, solid thunk as the two enemies went flying towards each other, face first, and cracked their heads open together.

Kurapika’s eyes widened, his mind running through the scene to try and figure out what had just happened.

#76, lying on the ground some distance away, seemed just as shocked, staring wide eyed at his still companions as Hisoka drew a card, and began to stalk towards him.

The boy raised his hand, and Kurapika moved without thinking, catching him by the wrist. “Hmm?” Hisoka glanced at him, the faintest hint of irritation on his face.

“Don’t bother.” Kurapika told him, ignoring the way his skin prickled in unease. “He’s failed the exam, and lost his students. He’s irrelevant.”

It was a weak excuse to spare the man, and they both knew it. All the same, Hisoka simply shrugged, and vanished the card from his hand. Coming to his senses, #76 scrambled away into the swamp.

“What exactly was that?” Kurapika asked once the sound of sobbing and cursing faded. “That-” he gestured at the bodies leaking brains into the swamp “- technique?”

“Well, it’s not really a technique in the way you think.” Kurapika started in surprise, dropping into a battle stance as another voice sounded from the mist behind them. “It’s nen. A transmutation hatsu, am I right?” Kurapika backed away slowly, keeping his bokken in front of him as a man stepped into view. To his side, he saw Hisoka straighten up, an unsettlingly wide grin splitting across the boy’s face.

“Oh, sorry.” The man nodded at Kurapika. “That’s probably not making much sense to you.” The man slowly approaching them was in his mid twenties, a little taller than Kurapika and lean with muscle, with stiff spikes of dark hair and a fishing pole in his hand. His smile was kind, but Kurapika stayed on guard all the same.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but we don’t want any trouble.” Kurapika told him, fingers tightening on his weapons. “We should all just back away, and try to finish the first stage.”

The man held up his hands placatingly. “I’m not here to cause trouble for you.” He took another step forward, and Kurapika gasped as an immense mental pressure washed over him, gone as quickly as it came. “I’m just here to fight.”

He moved with the implacable confidence of a glacier, unthreatening, but unstoppable. There was no doubt about it; they were far, far out of their depths here. Kurapika took a step back, calculating the time it would take to snatch his bag and run. Only instead of following his lead, Hisoka was stepping forwards to meet this new challenger. “Hisoka, don’t!” Kurapika hissed. “We have to run!” They both ignored him.

“Hisoka, is it? Nice to meet you. My name’s Gon.”

Cards appeared between Hisoka’s fingers. “A pleasure.” He leaped forward. So did Gon.

Grabbing his bag, Kurapika dove for cover behind a tree just as the two collided, sending shockwaves across the forest. He peeked out just in time to see Gon fling Hisoka towards a tree. The boy managed to catch his leg on on a branch, dangling upside down from it like an acrobat. Gon looked down at his chest, grinning broadly. “Nice move. You’re pretty quick with that ability.”

“Thanks.” Hisoka responded, swinging himself up into the tree.

Then Gon jerked forwards, and Hisoka was hurtling through the air towards him. Kurapika’s head spun trying to keep up with what was happening. Had Hisoka jumped? No, one moment he’d been perfectly still, and in the next he was in motion, flying towards Gon. No, flying past him. Gon had dodged, so quickly Kurapika had missed it. He caught a glimpse of Hisoka’s startled face, a moment before Gon’s arm came down in a blur.

Kurapika winced as the butt of the fishing rod slammed into Hisoka’s midsection, and the boy was flung to the ground, practically bouncing from the force of the blow. He managed to roll away to his feet, but even from a distance, Kurapika could see his teeth were stained with blood. “So, what exactly is this anyways?” Gon prodded at himself, finger stopping an quarter inch from his chest.

Hisoka was practically vibrating with excitement now, despite not having struck a single blow against Gon so far that Kurapika could see. “My aura has the properties of both rubber and gum. I call it Elastic Love: Bungee Gum.”

Kurapika’s eye twitched, despite the gravity of the situation. Gon simply nodded.

“This is pretty sturdy stuff. But-” Gon wrapped his hand around thin air, and seemed to pull something away from his chest. Successfully, judging from Hisoka’s shocked expression. “With enough strength, you can break anything. Even someone else’s aura.” He shifted into a defensive stance, and gestured for Hisoka to come at him, smiling broadly. Kurapika dodged behind another tree as Hisoka leaped, trying to decide whether to stay or run.

“GON!”

Every muscle in Kurapika’s body locked up as an oppressive pressure washed over him, buzzing, crackling over his skin. Red— his eyes went red as every inch of exposed skin grew icy with sweat. He couldn’t… couldn’t even turn to look. Couldn’t see, couldn’t run. There was pounding. In his ears, in his throat, behind his eyes. His heartbeat, louder than a drum. But not loud enough. Not loud enough to drown out the approaching footsteps. One, two sets of them, drawing nearer and nearer, and still, he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. All he could do was stare straight ahead, where the fight had stopped. Hisoka dangled by the wrist from Gon’s grasp, eyes wide as he stared at something over Kurapika’s shoulder, looking torn between delight and terror. Only Gon seemed unaffected, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin. “OK, OK.” He said, dropping Hisoka on the ground. “I’m done.”

The feeling vanished at that, and Kurapika gasped for air, finally realizing he had been holding his breath. Panting, he turned just in time to see another man emerge from the mist. About the same age as Gon, this figure was taller, and quite a bit broader than he was, short white hair casting a shadow over a chilling expression. He strode past Kurapika without so much as glancing at him, and trailing behind him-

“Illumi?” The boy stopped beside Kurapika, shoulders hunched and hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Yo.” The boy mumbled, scowling at the scene in front of them.

“Time to go.” The newcomer said. His eyes flickered to Hisoka for a moment before returning to Gon. “They’re nearly at the second phase.”

“Right, right. Sorry, I just got caught up, that’s all. Hey Killua, Hisoka’s a transmuter like you!”

The man, Killua, elbowed Gon in the side. “Don’t tell strangers my nen type, idiot. Let’s go. Illu, you coming with us?” Illumi shook his head slowly, eyeing Gon with a strangely blank expression. Killua sighed. “Suit yourself. See you at the second phase.” He strode off into the mist, disappearing within moments.

Gon grinned, and patted Hisoka on the head. “Try focusing your nen on different parts of your body like you do with Gyo next time.” Gon advised, turning to head in the same direction as Killua. “That way you can hit harder and defend against stronger blows. Good fight!” And then he was gone as well, leaving the three of them alone in the fog.

“Phew.” Hisoka flopped onto his back as Illumi and Kurapika came closer. Turning his head, he spat out a mouthful of blood. “Ahh, he broke my gum like it was nothing. He didn’t even use any special abilities. And he figured out I was a transmuter right away. Hey, Illumi, who was that?”

“Gon Freecss. My brother’s… partner.” Illumi scowled, face turning down to the ground. “I should have spotted him and realized Aniki was here.”

“That was your brother? Really?” Hisoka raised an eyebrow, getting to his feet. That his ribs had to be at least bruised didn’t seem to bother him a bit. “Not that I’d know, but aren’t relatives supposed to look alike?” Illumi’s face darkened as Hisoka continued. “And you didn’t know he was here?”

“Killu-nii is very good at keeping hidden.”

“Why would he hide from you?”

Illumi folded his arms, eyes narrowing in warning.

“Alright, alright.” Hisoka laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Be like that.”

A thousand questions ran rapid fire through Kurapika’s mind as he sorted through the events of the past few minutes, but there was one insistent question that kept pushing its way to the forefront of his mind.

“You really named your ability… technique… whatever that was, Bungee Gum?”  

Illumi raised an eyebrow as Hisoka beamed. “Naturally.”

The puzzlement on Illumi’s face slowly morphed into dawning horror as he looked between the two of them. “No.”

Hisoka made an offended noise. “It’s a good name.”

“You can’t be serious. Of all the undignified-”

“Dignity is just another word for unimaginative.”

“A proper hatsu name should be descriptive. Evocative. Like Dragon Lance, or Speed of Lightning.”

“Are those the names of your abilities?”

There was a flicker of menace from Hisoka, a vague sense of something sickly sweet and sour in the air, and Kurapika shuddered. It was nothing compared to that oppressive awfulness he’d just experienced, but the feel of something similar had him trembling all the same. Kurapika bit his lip, barely managing to force his eyes to stay grey even as his hands shook uncontrollably.

Illumi flicked something metallic at Hisoka. “Stop that.”

Kurapika squeezed his eyes shut as the feeling faded, breathing in deeply to centre himself. Once he had himself under control again, he opened his eyes, and looked between his two companions. “What- “ Kurapika’s voice cracked, and he flushed, shaking his head to clear it. “What was that? You were all talking about nen and hatsu; I don’t know what any of that is.”

“Mm. I don’t really want to explain the whole thing right here,” Illumi nodded at the swamp and corpses around them, “but basically everyone here just now except for you is a nen user. That is, someone who can use their aura, life energy, to do-” he gestured vaguely, “things that aren’t normally possible. Exactly what depends on the person.”

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. “So Hisoka…”

Hisoka smirked. “You can’t see it, but-” He made a flicking motion towards Kurapika, then curled his finger. As he did, Kurapika felt some unseen force tugging at his hand, pulling him towards Hisoka.

Kurapika’s head spun, trying to process this new information. The power he’d felt from those two men; if he could learn this, if he could gain this power…

“Ah, not to interrupt the reshaping of your entire worldview, but Killu-nii did say everyone else is nearly at the second phase. We should figure out how to find Satoz.”

“Not to worry, dear Illumi.” Hisoka purred, tumbling backwards into a one handed handstand. Illumi looked disproportionately impressed.

“Sure, that works.” Kurapika frowned, confused, and Illumi gestured at Hisoka’s foot. “Looks like Hisoka attached a strand of aura to Satoz, so we can just follow that to find him.”

“That’s right.” Hisoka shifted his weight onto three fingers. “My Bungee Gum- ”

“- Is still badly named.” Illumi concluded, shoving Hisoka over. “Come on, let’s go.” He told Kurapika as Hisoka yelped, collapsing to the ground. “I’ll explain nen to you along the way.”

By the time they reached the second phase, Kurapika’s mind was swimming with possibilities. He’d thought- he’d agonized, over the years, over how to gain the power he needed. And he’d known, without any doubt, that he would need it, against a group strong enough to slaughter every member of his clan. And now, he knew. His goal of enacting his vengance, making things right; it could be real. He would make it real. For Pairo. No matter how long it took, or what he had to do. He would learn nen, and destroy the Phantom Troupe.

And the first step towards his goal was passing the hunter exam. The three of them slowed to a walk as they came out to a small clearing right before a giant gate, where what seemed to be about two hundred other applicants were were waiting in various states of exhaustion. The examiner, Satoz, waited for them on the edge of the clearing. “Number 302.” He said as they approached. He gave Hisoka a stern look, and the boy grinned, waggling his fingers. Kurapika could see nothing, but Satoz seemed satisfied. “First of all, while I applaud your ingenuity, if you use your hatsu on another examiner, you will be reported for attacking them and disqualified from the exam. That applies to you too, 301.” He looked sternly at Illumi.

“‘Kay.”

“And second, while we do not disqualify applicants for having or using nen,” Satoz leaned in closer, lowering his voice a little, “the Hunter’s Association has good reason to keep it from public knowledge. There’s no harm in one or two of the applicants learning, but please, do try to be discrete.”

Hisoka smirked, and mimed zipping his lips shut. Illumi nodded as well.

Glancing at the surviving applicants, Kurapika found his memory jogged. “Can I ask, how many of the applicants made it?”

“Counting the three of you? 185.”

Only five off from his prediction. Despite himself, Kurapika grinned with the rush of vindication, even as Hisoka’s face fell. For a moment, he wondered what it said about him that he was celebrating 200 odd people failing or dying for the sake of a stupid bet, before something occured to him.

“Wait. We never actually talked about what the winner would get.”

Chapter Text

“Anyways Kite just texted me back, and he thinks — by the way, Killu, Alluka says she’s learning to bake, so tell her what sort of cake you want — he thinks someone should keep an eye on Swindler’s Swamp for a couple months, just to be safe; he’s worried that too many corpses at once might mess up the local ecosystem, since the food’s unevenly distributed. I don’t think it’s going to be that big a deal though, two hundred corpses should be more than managable.” The hum of the propellers was mostly muffled by the airship walls, but Gon could feel the vibrations through the metal below - uh, above his feet. Bracing himself in a corner of the ceiling, he continued to talk as he waited for an opportunity to strike. “Honestly, I can’t believe half of them made it through that first phase. Ging told me only a fifth of the applicants survived to the second phase when he took the exam.” There was a blur of movement below, and Gon shifted his weight, eyes fixed on his prize.

“Ho ho, I suppose Ging’s experience was a bit unusual, since the first phase was a free for all that he completely dominated.” Netero lept back, narrowly dodging a swipe from Killua that would have sliced his belly open, and twisted in midair, kicking at Gon as the younger man lunged for the ball in his hand. “But this is an unusually strong batch, too. I’ve been told—”Netero’s face split into a sly smile as he retreated to the other side of the room—“that we have some strong rookies this year.”

Gon lit up at that, stretching in preparation for another go. Killua’s expression was cool as always, but he was taking off his sweater, a clear sign he was going to start taking this game seriously.

Maybe this year, they’d actually get to touch the ball Netero was holding on to.

“Oh, yeah! Satoz told you about that kid, right, number 302? He’s a scrapper alright; doesn’t look like he’s had a lot of training, but he’s got a nice hatsu, and a lot of raw talent. I’m thinking, hmm, maybe five, six years before he really hits his stride?” In the link of an eye, Gon was nearly nose to nose with Netero, blocking his way as Killua’s claws sliced towards his neck.

“What happens then?” Netero lept up in the air, though not quite fast enough to avoid Gon’s hand wrapping around his ankle.

“Huh? I dunno.” Gon dragged him back down, fast enough that the ball slipped momentarily from his grasp. “If it wasn’t for Killua I wouldn’t know what I’m doing tomorrow, I don’t know what’s gonna happen five years from now.”

“Call it curiosity.” The old man headbutted the ball out of Killua’s reach, even as he bounced off the floor hard enough to leave a dent. “Ging doesn’t look for strong people like this; why do you?”

Gon made a face. “Ging and I are similar, not the same, you know.” He grumbled. “I guess…. I guess it’s the same reason you made Pariston vice president. And why we’ve been playing this game for all these years. I don’t really care about mentoring people or exploring the way Ging does.”

Netero raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, even as he dodged blow after blow from the both of them. The ball had yet to come down from wherever he’d headbutted it.

“I just like competing with people as strong as me.” Gon continued. “Or stronger, even. It’s all just about, you know. Having fun with my life.” The three of them sprang apart, all breathing heavily as they stared at the ball firmly embedded in the ceiling. “That’s why Killua and I work so well together, because we’re so evenly matched.” he concluded, planting a kiss on Killua’s cheek before collapsing backwards onto the floor. “Phew, I’m beat.”

Netero stretched his hands over his head, before leaping up to retrieve his ball. “Well, Satoz told me that the rookie's teamed up with another nen user. I'm surprised you haven't said anything about him."

Uh oh.

On the other side of the room, Killua’s expression went from cool to glacial, bloodlust curling dark and dangerous behind blue eyes, like the shadow of an orca under the ice. "Illumi is off limits. To the both of you.”

Nerero’s own eyes gleamed with interest at this new nugget of information. ”Illumi? Zoldyck? My, my, my. Now that's interesting. I'm surprised Silva has allowed his new heir to leave the estate, nevermind take the Hunter Exam.”

Killua made an irritated noise. “You really shouldn't know so much about Zoldyck family politics; do you and grandfather just spend all your time gossiping with each other?"

Netero cackled, then tossed the ball at him, hard enough that catching it had Killua sliding across the floor. "What can I say, I like to keep up with the business of a family as important as yours. Maha's quite excited to see a non-transmuter in the role of head in his lifetime, you know. I think he was resigning himself to being the last.” His eyes took on a familiar, mischievous cast. “I wonder..."

Gon reached out to touch Killua's shoulder in warning, but was brushed away. "Hey, old man.” Killua dropped his Zetsu then, filling the room with his Ren, so deeply malicious that Gon had to use Ken to protect himself from it. Netero, of course, barely seemed to notice. "Don't even think about it. You and Gon can mess around with the rest of the applicants all you want, but leave my brother alone." With that, he turned on his heel, and strode out of the room, tossing the ball behind him as he went.

Gon grimaced, but let him go. "C'mon, don't poke at him like that." He whined at Netero. “Killu gets very serious about his family."

"Zoldycks often do, ho ho.” Netero passed the ball idly between his hands, fixing Gon with an amused look. “You certain you know what you're doing, marrying into that family?"

"More like Killua is marying into my family, and bringing Alluka with him.” Gon retorted, sharper than he'd intended. He'd met Killua's parents once, and the thought of being in any way attached to them gave him shivers. The only reason Killua spent any time with them was because he was such a protective brother, and once his siblings were all grown, he’d never have to go back to that household.

“Is that so?” Gon didn’t like the knowing look in Netero’s eyes. “Well, I’m sure that will be something to see. However well it goes.”