The bell rang to signal the end of lunch. The two boys climbed the stairs until they reached the third floor, and parted to their classrooms. Killua, who was usually the first in the classroom, was disappointed in finding the girl sitting in the corner, gazing out the window. He pulled his chair back roughly and sat down. Class continued in the same mind-numbing fashion.

The clock struck three. The students immediately jumped up and packed up their belongings. They quickly left the class room, except for the two weekly monitors who remains after school and tidies up the classroom.

On his way to meet Gon, Killua he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around wearily. Mizuka held the pen towards him without a word.

The white-hair boy took a moment to consider the pen before he continued his way to the front gates and spoke without looking back, "Keep it."

A girl with short, pink pigtails glared at her, a glare that said 'you don't need any of his stuff'. Her name was Hinari Fujiou, one of the most popular girls in her grade. She, was also considered to have a lucky seat, for she sits right beside her dream boy.

Mizuka stared at the object in her palm, then slipped it in her pocket.

By the school gates, Gon was waiting. When the pair was reunited, they headed down the pathway. The shorter boy glanced behind him as the new student walked in the opposite direction. "Ne, she only carries a book."

"And a pen," his friend added. "For Heaven's sake, stop worrying about her. She's just like any normal student who's settling into a new school. What's wrong with carrying a pen and a book?"

Gon shook his head, "No Killua. What I meant is, she doesn't even carry a bag."

Killua sighed, defeated yet again by his friend's petty arguments. Boy, was Gon growing to be like Kurapica; stating the facts and defending his own opinions. "It's just a bag."

"It's not just because she doesn't have a bag. She doesn't even own a pen, let alone food. She could be suffering from poverty! That's it! She must be so poor, she doesn't even have enough money to buy her stuff." Gon suddenly grabbed his friend's arm and dragged to the direction where the girl walked.

Killua groaned, "Oi! GON! Seriously, if she was that poor, how could she afford the school fees in the first place? GON! ARE YOU LISTENING?!"

Doesn't seem like it. The insistent boy continued heaving his exasperated friend. It was a matter of seconds before they caught up with her. They walked within a distance to avoid being seen.

"This is stupid-"

"Shh!" Gon placed his index finger over his lips. The boys dashed into a nearby bush.

Mizuka approached the door of a grand double-storey house. She reached her hand out and hesitated, as if the golden-dragon door knob was growling threateningly at her. She tightened her hands into a fist and rapped the door.

A young maid welcomed her with a bow, dressed in a black dress and a neat, white apron. A frilly, white head band rested on her dark brown hair. She closed the door firmly.

"Well whadayatellyou…" Killua glared reproachfully at Gon through half-lidded eyes. His friend sweat-dropped and scratched his head uncertainly. They left, twigs and leaves stuck in their hair, not knowing that Killua was far from correct…

0000000000

"Mistress awaits you in the living room," the maid bowed once more before hurrying to the kitchens. Mizuka headed upstairs to drop off her book before taking off to the living room. She stood by the doorway, waiting for the command.

"Come in."

The girl stepped towards the sleek voice. She stopped near the red, velvet couch where her proud aunt was sitting and lighting her cigarette. She directed her gaze at the fire place, the flames reflected on her stony eyes.

With her long manicured fingernails, her aunt grasped the long cigarette holder, and puffed away, "How was school?"

"Nothing special."

The lady fixed her eyes on the girl, searching for anything out of place. She took in another breath of smoke, and blew it on the girl. Mizuka, although trying not to breathe in that dreadful smolder, covered her mouth and coughed.

"You are…dismissed," her aunt sneered.

The girl quickly walked out of the cold atmosphere and hurried to her room, where she softly closed the door with relief. She slumped on her bed; hair splayed over the pillow and rested her arms by her side. She ran her fingers over the soft fabric of her skirt, and came to a stop at something stiff. She took the object out of her pocket, and examined the simplicity of the blue pen. The pens she uses here were gold or intricately carved with striking designs, but her aunt forbids anything to leave the house, even the food.

She twirled the pen in her fingers, thinking of the same question over and over again. Did life had any meaning? Childhood was her favourite time, when mother and father would laugh and play with her, take her to new and interesting places, bought her presents and her favourite food…and she would smile.

But those days were long gone, when both her parents were working as missionaries in a small island, and died of a fatal disease. All the wealth was left for her, but she was not of legal age. The closest relative would be her father's sister; the woman who have long waited for prosperity to reach her grasp. And there she has it, power over the Tayaki wealth.

Things were going as she planned. Her aunt has planned on marrying her before the age of eighteen. Once she was married, her aunt would have full access on the Tayaki heritage, and she would move on with life with her new husband. With the wealth, beauty, and youth, her aunt was certain that the girl would marry sooner, no doubt.

Then how did that life have no meaning? There was no love in it. Her aunt despised her. She despised the fact that her life was so fruitful. She despised her attractive qualities. Her aunt, despised the fact that her grandfather left nothing for her in his will when he died. And in revenge, she would take all that was meant to be her's away from her niece. She did not even adress the girl by her name.

There was no meaning after all, and thus she did not believe in smiling.

Five years have gone by, and she did not smile.

Mizuka sighed and placed the pen on her desk. She closed her eyes, and drifted off to restless sleep.

0000000000

29th March.

Tuesday.

7:30 am.

The next morning was like every other morning. The row of alarm clocks would ring, and in turn Killua would groan and smack them in a steady beat. Then Gon would wake up from the bed on the other side and he would tell the lazy boy how in the world they were going to get all the clocks repaired by the morning after.

In the next thirty minutes they would stand side by side and brush their teeth in a drowsy way. And then they would settle down in the kitchen for some breakfast, slowly spooning their tamagoyaki into their mouths, eyes still drooping with sleep. Picking up their school belongings, they would trudge to school.

After assembly, the students dispersed into their respective classes as the morning bell rang. Mrs. Schmakbaam arrived promptly and wasted no time in starting her lessons. She began with, "Homework…"

Killua slapped his forehead, Damn.

"…will be due by the end of school. By the looks of your faces I can tell some of you didn't do your homework! Such disgrace!" the teacher tutted. "I will give you a chance to finish it at recess or lunch, and I want the finished product at my desk at the end of the day. Otherwise, you would receive detention!"

The class nodded nervously. She clacked on her high heels towards the blackboard and scratched away with the chalk.

Killua was barely concentrating when he felt the same soft tap on his shoulder. He turned around, "Hmm?"

The purple-hair girl reached her arm out, his blue pen in her clutch.

"Don't want it?" the boy asked her.

Hinari beamed, "I'll have it!" She was left ignored.

Mizuka held up another pen in reply, mentally saying that she didn't need it any more.

"Thanks." Killua took the pen and dropped it in his bag, "Next time, talk."

The girl nodded.

The white hair boy peered closer at her cheek, noticing something out of order, "Is that a…cut?"

She nodded again.

"From what?"

The silent girl looked down at her exercise book.

Gon's right, something is wrong. Killua stared at her for a moment while she worked her way, until he felt a sharp tug on his ear. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow OW OW!!"

"Stop flirting around and sit up straight boy! I am not having a disobedient student in my class! DO AS YOU'RE TOLD!!" Mrs. Schmakbaam's voice rang in his ear. He swore his eardrums would burst sooner, and boy would he have loved to charge his teacher the medical bills if he ever goes deaf. The boy grudgingly faced forward and looked down his book. That devil girl I thought she was hiding something, but rather she was avoiding the teacher!

0000000000

The break bell was their saviour. The students rushed out the school like ants and in a matter of seconds, the school grounds were covered. Mrs. Schmakbaam went to get her cup of coffee. On the way out, Killua took the chance to ask the new girl his unanswered question, "Where'd you get that from?"

"It does not concern you."

He paused for a while. "You smell of smoke," he added.

And that was what froze her. "I don't smoke."

"I never said you did. Who smokes in your house?"

A strange feeling crept up Mizuka. Why was this boy asking her these questions? How does he know there was a smoker in her house, and not just any smoker on the streets? How much does he know about her…? She stood there by the doorway, unsure of what to do.

"My…aunt."

"Does she happen to have…long fingernails?" He knew. From all his assassin experiences, he could tell the differences between all types of cuts and wounds. He knew, that this cut was not that of the scissor's blade, not even that of Hisoka's cards, but simply a quick lash of a fingernail.

Mizuka wanted to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere. Was it possible that he has been stalking her? Much to her relief, a spiky-hair boy around her age popped his head by the door way. "Killua, I was looking for you…Ah! Mizuka-chan, nice to meet you!"

The girl stared confusingly at him. How did he know her name?

As if he could read her mind, Gon replied cheerily, "Killua told me all about you!"

The girl looked at the white-hair boy with wary eyes. Killua immediately launched into a stumble of words, "G-Gon! You say it like as though I-I'm…stalking her!"

The sound of clacking high heels echoed through the corridor, the smell of strong coffee wafted under their noses. Mrs. Schmakbaam stopped at the group of three and glared suspiciously at them, her red lips pinched, "Shouldn't you three be outside? Shoo, shoo, SHOO!!"

The woman waved her hands at them as if they were annoying flies and so they hurried out the school building. While pacing quickly towards the school grounds, Killua was sure that Gon's long awaited question would yet again, change his life.

The black-hair boy suddenly piped up, "Mizuka-chan, would you like to be…friends with us?"

Killua flinched slightly. What is he thinking…?!

The girl stared inquisitively at the ecstatic boy. "Friends…?" She took a while to regard the proposal. After a few moments, she slowly nodded, "I guess…"

A wide grin stretched across Gon's face.

Killua sighed. First it was Gon, then it was the blonde, last was the old geezer. He wondered, whether he had enough room for an extra in his small world.

I hope the plot doesn't look too complicated ;p Most of what happened before would be revealed in future chapters, like why there was a cut on her cheek *^*

And thank you to those who read and especially those who reviewed. I really appreciate you guys!! :{D (I felt like adding a moustache...)