[Nanika accepts it graciously and holds it up to her face, sniffing it and rubbing her cheek against it. It's soft and fragrant, smelling woodsy with a floral undertone. She loves it so, so much! She takes the lock and stores it in her heart-shaped pocket.]

Secret.

[Jealousy averted, she gets to thinking. Wouldn't it be great to have MORE of him? She doesn't just want a piece of him, she wants to smell him, touch him, taste him. Nanika scoots closer, her obsessive gaze cutting right through him.]

Killua, gimme some blood next!

[She insists on it with remarkable casualness, as if completely unaware of how absurd her request is.]