Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Miyazaki. But this story is mine. In this story, there are two points of view. I, lose-your-voice, will be writing the story from Haku's point of view while my good friend, dumbledoresbumblebee, will will write the story from Chihiro's point of view. To view Chihiro's point of view, you'll have to go to my friend's profile. IF you have any questions, feel free to PM me.

Chapter One: First Impressions

I saw her face: a memory that was out of my reach teased me. But I couldn't remember. Not completely. She seemed strangely familiar, as if I'd dreamed of her before. But I haven't, I was certain of that.

But her face irritated me to no end. The vague remembrance danced above my head, never leaving my mind in peace. Who was she? Why did she seem strangely familiar? I glanced at her again and looked away. She wasn't interesting in any slight way. She was plain, just like every other female here. She wasn't special. Nonetheless, my mind wouldn't rest.

I looked out the window, blocking my thoughts. The dust that was gathering on the edges of the windowpane, the mold that was growing in the corner of the wall against the door was more interesting than this class.

This was a waste of time. I should have stayed at home, being schooled by a package that was mailed every semester. At least with that type of education, I had the challenge of finishing a semester's course in three weeks.

That was more challenging. Of course, mother thought a healthier experience was to be surrounded by peers. She insisted my attendance at a public school, where 70 of children my age are educated. Mother thought it was unhealthy to have a lack of human contact. Who gave her that despicable thought? Who implanted that infuriating idea in her mind? Who poisoned her thoughts with the very essence of human communication?

"Haku."

I turned to face the greasy haired, overweight, idiotic professor. What did he want? He stared at me, of course he knew I wasn't paying attention. He knew this already and he knew I was smarter than anyone gave me credit for. Why was he bothering me if we both knew that I had the knowledge to answer any question he throws without fault?

"Answer number 15," came his voice in an irritated tone.

I looked down and spat out in a clearly effortless tone, "Cellular respiration." And the teacher, satisfied, turned and called out his next victim. He called on one of the plain, simple females that were found in this class. Of course I was correct, when wasn't I? This course had been too easy; it wasn't interesting enough to alert myself to. I stared out as the wind blew the leaves of a far-off tree. The leaves tumbled and fell onto the pavement without a sound. I looked to the farther edge of the window to the still parking lot. Not a soul in sight. Cars of every color were stationed, trapped. The fiery reds, the botanic greens and ivories, the pessimistic browns and black, the loveliest of blues.

I felt trapped inside this classroom.

Then, something caught my attention as the professor was yelling to someone. I turned my head and saw the plain girl, whirling around, like a lunatic. There were tears streaming down her face, making her eyes turn red. She was frantic, searching for something it seemed. The other students shrieked annoyingly comments such as 'rat' and other obnoxious things. I was far from her and I was secretly glad of that. She began to crawl on the floor, searching for her lost possession. I was intrigued, this did not happen everyday.

Idiotically, she bumped into a boy's leg. He said something I could not hear and threw an object at her. With the light, the object glinted in the sun and I squinted at eyes at the reflection. It was gold, solid gold. No one seemed to notice but I found it strange. A middle school girl with an object made of solid gold, how precious was that to her? Why did she have it? Strangely, I think I've seen it before. But I couldn't remember when. A wave of anger boiled up. Why wasn't I able to remember these things? My memory was flawless; my comprehension was higher than 80 of the world's population. So why couldn't I remember a simple object? This angered me, beyond all doubt.

A wash of relief swept through her face as the overweight professor, enraged, pulled her by the shirt and dragged her out the door. The girl didn't seem to understand the fact that she was going to be scolded thoroughly? Like I said, better than 80.

Then his raspy voice came, "Until I get back, Haku will take care of attendance as a way to get to know the class. Oh, and Haku, this right here is Chihiro, make sure not to mark her absent."

Great. I'm forced to communicate with these sniveling, back-stabbing morons. Their sniveling faces turned to me at once; they seemed enthusiastic at a new face and the fact that the teacher was not going to be present. Once the teacher closed the door behind him, there was a mob, yes this was a mob, of my peers at my desk. They were telling me and almost commanding me to not mark them absent or to mark so-and-so absent as a ruse and so on. This was most annoying. I sat up and headed over to the teacher's desk. At his desk, I checked attendance, making sure that no idiotic pre-teen was trying to trick me. After that I simply stood, while their spoke amongst themselves. This was not a great first day.

The minute passed by slowly and I was still standing by the professor's desk. I sighed and grabbed the grotesquely colored yellow pass and I headed for the men's bathroom. On my return from the bathroom, I dropped the pass and reached down to retrieve it.

"Haku?"

I turned, hearing my name. It was that girl, the one that had been crawling on the floor, searching for her possession. I gave her a questioning look and it seemed to make her nervous. I could hear the unevenness of her voice.

"Um, did you come here to find me like you said you would?"

What was this girl rambling about? Finding her like I said I would? I've never spoken to her before; much less tell her that I would some looking for her. Why would she ask such a thing? The stupidity of her question made me only blurt out, in my cold tone,

"What?"

The girl was instantly appalled. The expression depicted on her face showed her pain.

"Don't you remember me?" she asked, almost pleaded.

She was surprising me more by the second. Maybe she was the lunatic that she looked like when she was crawling on the floor of the classroom. I could barely muster a response. How should I carry on a conversation with someone who is obviously delirious?

So I decided to spit out, "What are you talking about? I've never seen you before in my life."

This was the absolute truth.

So, I did not feel remorse when the girl slid down, about to break into tears. I didn't particularly want to watch her; she would probably want to save face. So, I walked away. Thankfully, the girl was a silent crier. My footsteps echoing in the empty hallways were the only noises to be heard.

I was almost thrilled when the bell rang, ending my sentence here. The bell was a long, shrieking sound. Any sane human would crumble into a ball and cover their ears from hearing that sound all day. Apparently, we were all drones. I grabbed my bag and threw it over my left shoulder. Before the rest of the class could react, I was walking down my row and heading out the door. Before I could reach my escape, before I could let out an exhausted breath of carbon dioxide, I bumped into a classmate. She lowered her head to face her feet, a sign of weakness. Her cheeks colored a light shade of rose; she was clearly embarrassed. She muttered something so softly I couldn't hear. Her voice was humble but I walked past her without a second thought.

I walked out into the breeze and sighed. Another day was over, only around two hundred more. Only a handful more years until I was done with this prison. The breeze blew my hair just like it blew the leaves. My hair whipped around, it almost reached my shoulders. The fresh air lightened my mood and I could smile now. Other hundreds of children filed out, heading for their homes.

I walked on, they didn't interest me either. My home was close but not close enough. The trip home always lasted around thirty minutes but it wasn't a total waste. It burned some time from my twenty-four hours.