Killua glanced at the clock.

1:55 pm.

He sighed. Lunch had ended fifteen minutes ago, but to him, fifteen minutes seemed like eternity. The white hair boy tapped his finger impatiently on the table, eager to escape the dreary classroom. He eyes lingered out the window as his ears switched off and tune out…

0000000000

SLAM!

The boy snapped out of his déjà vu and stared blankly at the teacher; her fierce look penetrated his skin, her fingers splayed over a piece of paper on his desk.

"Did you hear what I said?!" she seethed, lifting her hand from the desk. Killua nodded casually, picked up the paper and pretended to inspect it, turning it this way and that. Mrs. Schmakbaam shook her head in irritation and continued handing out notes.

The school bell rung, just as the teacher was heading back to her desk. "Remember, hand it in by tomorrow at the latest!" she shouted before the whole class vanished.

Killua stared anxiously at the paper in his grasp. It wasn't the words Easter Show that concerned him, but rather the words Signed by guardian/parent. Walking alongside Mizuka he met up with Gon at his usual spot by the front gates. He was greeted by a similar expression on his friend's face.

"Ne, how do you think…?"

Killua shrugged.

"What about you Mizuka-chan? Do you think your parents will let you go?"

The white hair boy detected a slight flinch in the girl. She shook her head, "They're not here."

"Are they working somewhere else or overseas?" Gon asked out of curiosity.

Killua tugged his friend's ear close to his mouth and hissed, "Idiot! She means they're dead."

"Oh." Gon's shoulders drooped at the sudden news.

The girl nodded and looked up blankly, "They used to, but now, they're up there…"

Gon smiled encouragingly, "My mum's up there too! Someday we'll be able to see them again, hey, won't we?"

Mizuka turned around to hide of what Killua thought was a twitch on the corner of her mouth. She walked away without another word.

"Tch, not even a word of 'goodbye'."

"Can't blame her." Gon turned around in the direction of their apartment. Killua abruptly grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait."

The white hair boy gestured to his friend to follow him as they paced at a fair distant behind Mizuka. He instructed Gon to analyse the girl with his Gyo.

Fortunately the girl did not even turn around to look behind her, thus the two boys made little attempt to hide. They crept up behind a rose bush, as she drew near the dragon door knob.

And waited.

Once she was inside, they sneaked up to a colossal window that was slightly ajar and peered through.

0000000000

"Come in."

The silent girl entered, a piece of paper in her clutch.

"What do you have there?"

Mizuka handed over the note. The woman scanned over the tedious squiggles and stared at the girl as if she missed the point. "And what do you suppose I'm to do with it?"

"You sign it."

Her aunt stood up to her full height and lowered her head until her eyes were at the same level as Mizuka's. With the paper in her grasp, she slowly crumbled it into a small ball of nothingness. "And did I grant you permission…?" she hissed, spit rocketing from her lips.

Although the two boys could not hear much of the conversation, Gon could not understand how three words from the girl could anger the elderly woman. His white hair friend glared at the crumbled piece of junk.

The woman hurled the ball near the door then eased herself in her favourite couch, "Pick it up and dispose it. You do not deserve the privileges of other students. I will write a note to your teacher and ask her to provide you with some other work to do. Go. No, one more thing."

Mizuka would've liked it to be no more than a lecture, but, she was far from correct.

"I have arranged an engagement between you and your new fiancé. In fact, that was a week ago, but I decided to give you a little surprise," her aunt smirked with an air of devilish delight. "He comes from a wealthy family, such a young and fine gentleman. Tonight, he and his family are arriving here from France. I expect your behaviour to be faultless. And remember your manners. Address them as Sir and Madam Ryuuoh."

Fiance…? Killua snorted. Is this some kind of a joke?

He looked sideways at his friend, an expression of concern plastered on Gon's face. Realising that this was no tell-tale, his features darkened.

With no thoughts of rushing, the girl picked up the ball of paper and dropped it in the nearest wastepaper basket. She ventured into her bedroom. It was a ritual that applied everyday after she returned from school.

Gon turned to look at Killua, whose fists and teeth were clenched in vehemence. He felt a pang of sympathy for both his friends. Both lived a wealthy life, and yet, why must they suffer? Why did he live in an old ship entwined in the roots of an ancient tree, and yet, lived a content life despite the absence of his parents? Why must fate choose it to be that way?

Both teenagers crept away, leaving a rustling sound. The woman shot her eyes out the window, thinking that she caught wisps of black and white. But on second thoughts, thought she was hallucinating and coughed on the smoke. I am of old age…

0000000000

7:00 pm.

"Let GO of me!" Killua shouted angrily.

"Uh uh!" Gon smiled threateningly at his friend. To him right now, Killua is no more than a potato sack that needs to be hauled to the next destination. Not surprisingly, Killua didn't mind at all. These days he had always been equivalent to a potato sack. Gon did not even break a sweat as he towed his heavier friend.

"I said, LET GO!"

The smile on the jet-hair boy stretched wider and waggled his index finger teasingly. Killua shrank back at Gon's sudden ability to act intimidating. "C'mmon, it'll only take like…ten minutes! We'll just have a peek at this 'fiancé' then we'll leave!"

"Just for the sake of that?" the white-hair boy gave his friend his best puppy-eyes. It took him four years to master those eyes. According to Gon, it'll come in handy.

"Haha, I'll never fall for those eyes."

"Tch."

They headed towards the huge mansion, which at this point, were lit with lights making the mansion look so luxurious. They took their place behind a rose bush and peered through the gaps between the leaves.

0000000000

Dressed in her best Sundays, Mizuka strolled downstairs to meet her husband-to-be. As she passed the corridor, the maid gave her hair one last brush before she made her appearance in the guest room. Her aunt was engaged in a conversation with three guests who were seated in a silken, cream-coloured couch.

"Is that fine lady there your niece?" The Japanese man nodded over to Mizuka.

"Ahh! Tu es tres belle! (You are beautiful)! Don't you think, Tristan?" A lady with cascading blonde hair clucked over the purple-hair girl, pinching her cheeks and stroking her hair. Her "r's" flourished in perfect French.

The younger male, of which the woman called him Tristan, stood up from his seat and lowered his head slightly in a bow. He was a typical blonde with deep azure eyes, with the exception of tanned skin that he inherited from his father. 'Cross-breeds' as they say, are one of a kind. Mizuka returned his bow with a courtesy.

"And so is your son," the girl's aunt smiled a little bit too much that the witty ones would consider it fake. "It was such a delight to hear that my niece will make an ideal bride."

"It is also my pleasure." The older man held up his glass of red wine, and so did the other two women. "Cheers to the future generations!"

The girl and her fiancé stood silently as they watched the three wine glasses clinked against each other. Little do the adults know that their opinions were far from agreeable.

The young man threw a scrutinizing glance at the girl. He sighed inwardly. At least, she was not like those girls who practically drooled over him back at France.

Dinner arrived rather quickly. The musicians brought their instruments and thrived into being. They were soon seated around a long table laid with towers of rich food that could feed a table of twenty (Apparently even the leftovers were too much for the people of lower-status of the household). Poor Tristan would struggle to keep his actions and manners at the utmost point of precision. He was not born naturally to perfection. Thank goodness his petty mistakes were dismissed with hearty laughs, although it was only a drop of spilt juice on his napkin, or something quite insignificant.

He was fairly social. He talked about his interests, future plans, and all those sweet-talk which enticed the adults. And when he had the chance to excuse himself to the bathroom, he would loosen his bow tie, stare at the mirror and sighed at his reflection. His inner thoughts and feelings were far from the fake role that he had just played.

And Mizuka, felt fine being forgotten for most of the evening.

Outside the two-storey building, Gon frowned half-heartedly at what unfolded before him. Killua on the other hand, can see right through what the people in the house were thinking, from his own experience.

He patted Gon's shoulder, "Time's up. Let's go. You're acting weird lately; nosing around her personal matters."

Gon pouted and lumbered after his friend as they returned to their apartment.

Ah well, can't be helped. Gon's just being him, Killua shrugged.

Trains of thoughts and unanswered questions were whirling around Killua's head. Although, there was one thing that he had learnt. From now on, things were starting to become…let's say…

Interesting.

The boy grinned as he crossed his arms behind his head.


Sorry for the late update ^^'

I had an operation on my teeth for the past week so I was pretty much lazing around the house doing nothing. I know that a petty teeth operation can't stop me from writing fanfiction but I was enjoying school holidays too much. I kind of updated the other chapters but don't worry, I've just added dates and times to make things more clearer. See you next chapter! *evil smirk*