Hiya kids! thanks for the reviews they made my day XD...yes well moving thank you to sister-person (mystery-chld) tiki-chan and jo-chan for beta reading. This chappie is for you guys squezzes them to a sad death . I'm sorry guysI love youuuuuuu!

Sister-person: NEWAYZ...same disclaimer applies, the poor soul has nothing to give you and since she doesn't even own Van I guess you can't sue...ah well.

Chapter 2-Part I: Misfits

Misfits; a term loosely used to describe a person who's

Not like everybody else.

If we were all the same person,

Who would we be?

Anonymous

Hitomi drank in the familiar smell and nearly coughed up a lung. "Jeez, does nearly every teenager have to smoke. I swear there won't be a future generation if they keep this up, we'll all die of emphysema!" she grumbled.

"Oh stop being so melodramatic Hitomi, you should be used to it by now," retorted Celena running her hands through her nearly white hair. She pulled her turquoise sweater further down over her arms and zipped it up. Even though the sun was blindingly bright it was still a bit chilly.

As the duo entered the large facility called a school (a.k.a hell hole) a barrage of students rushed past them, practically knocking them. "They also have no sense of direction, is it so hard to walk around someone?" griped Hitomi.

"What's got you in such a bad mood, all you've done is complain, complain, complain… I thought you liked school."

"I do, I just don't like most of the people that inhabit it," she explained matter-of-factly. "Hey Celena my locker is on the top so I'll see you later okay," finished Hitomi as took a glance at her schedule. If her locker was upstairs why were most of her classes downstairs? Secretaries and guidance counselors needed more common sense.

Trudging angrily up the set of steps, Hitomi's thoughts wandered to what had set her off in the first place: She had woken up once again to her parent's arguments, something utterly small and insignificant; then again they found a way to argue about everything. "Jesus Ira just leave it alone. I came home late last night, I wasn't sleeping around! I was just doing my job. Look I know it was a holiday but I was needed. I was making the money that supports this family, you should be thankful that I'm a hard worker you wouldn't have as many luxuries as you do now if I didn't work as hard as I do."

"I support this family too, even if it isn't as high paying as yours. And I would be a lot happier even without those luxuries. We don't need money David we need to talk."

"Talk? Talk about what? About how you don't trust me, about how all you ever do is nag, nag, nag? About how I try to do nice things for you and you don't appreciate it? I don't get it Ira what the hell do you want to talk about? What do you want?"

"David, whenever you're ready to actually communicate with me in a decent manner, let me know. But right now I'm going to my job, which according to you doesn't really count for anything," her mother hissed and left her enraged father standing in the hall staring at the door which was slammed shut. Her dad had been in an aggravating mood after that, leaving her and her brother with a hasty goodbye and a strained smile.

Homeroom class English: Creative Writing, not bad at least it wasn't Math or Biology, she really couldn't take anything hardcore on a morning like this, anything that allowed her to express herself was always therapeutic. Unexpectedly someone slammed their locker shut to the left of hers and she jumped. Some guy that stood an inch and a half taller than her five foot eight and a half stick figure, with a black hooded sweater and faded Levi denim jeans, his hair looked combed but it raged around his sharp features like he had just been sticking his head out his car window while doing a hundred mph. It overshadowed his eyes, and she thought idly that he could almost be one of those dogs whose hair touched their noses, but he was much too thin for that. His look was completed by bright red Chuck Taylors, and a black leather biker glove on his right hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he apologized his serious tenor voice ringing in her ears.

"It's okay," she assured him then asked, "You're new aren't you?"

"Yeah," he nodded adjusting the weight of his back pack. That was the benefit of living in a small town with only one public high school; you notice every new face that you see. However, before Hitomi could catch his name, the first bell rang and they headed off in different directions.

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"Alright ladies and gentlemen, we are going to have the announcements and an assembly in the gym in a few minutes so let me take this time to introduce you to a new student Millerna Ashton," the portly female teacher presented. Upon hearing her name a teenage girl stepped through the door. When Celena actually decided to look up at the person who was being introduced (she was doodling in her notebook), she had a case of déjà vu. This girl, whoever she was, was dressed in a pink t-shirt with some words black printed on it, but Celena was too lazy to read them. She had on a blue and black plaid skirt, which was a couple inches short of being a scarf, and onyx pumps. This girl looked like she should be the spokesperson for Loreal or Revlon, because her sallow coloured hair almost shone as bright as the gleaming sun outside, her lips were plastered with prismatic bubblegum pink lip gloss, and a figure that would leave Paris Hilton (or Mischa Barton) crying because they had been replaced with someone more extravagantly beautiful. But the thing that had got to Celena most was her face, she looked so familiar it was like seeing a carbon copy of a person you couldn't remember. How frustrating.

When the teacher placed her beside Celena she went a little insane and started playing with all the rings that decorated her face; her nose ring, the one on her eyebrow, her labret (AN: thank you to aoi-hitom's story Rebel Girl for telling me what it's called. Hilarious story by the way, go read it ppls!), and her earrings. The two even held an actual conversation, in which Celena asked if they new eachother and Millerna replied if they did she couldn't remember. And so the day passed in the uneventful series it always did class after class lunch more classes and then the long or short walk home.

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It was Friday, the first week of school was going to end that afternoon and the teenagers who had been contained all those (soon to be) four days were going to be finally released. But this first Friday was going to a bit dreary considering that it was not raining— that was definitely not the word to describe what was going on outside— it was pouring. And this wasn't your regular downpour in which you could, if you really wanted to, dance in or even walk in. Nope, whatever was happening outside could only be described as a waterfall of rain crashing down to earth. The unlucky habitants of outside would have to face the clouds as they fell on them, with an angry vengeance. Van one of a few unlucky habitants of outside would swear he had never seen so much rain fall at once in his life. He was actually a bit nervous that by the time he and Merle (who he was walking with) had to go home, there wouldn't be a home to go to. And his mind already started to wander back to Fanelia…

"Darling Van, are you alright? You look a little pale and faint," questioned Merle, concern lacing her voice. Merle was always worried about him, always thinking something was wrong. Our dear Merle was right of course, because Van always looked like he was about to pass out or fall asleep. Which he probably was because Van got around two or three hours of sleep that night and had a late night snack, then as usual threw it all up. In the back of his mind he knew he should see a doctor, but Van was exceedingly stubborn and decided that he could fix his own damn problems.

"I'm fine, I just haven't seen so much rain before," he replied as they neared the beige brick building. He shoved his wet, cold hands in his pockets, because even though they were under an enormous umbrella (thanks to Merle) the rain was still dripping through. There was a group of students sitting on the steps under the extended entrance, and as they passed some who had nothing better to do called out cruel catcalls, while others just said "hi" to the two of them. Merle shook her head at the group and Van who was sort of used to it just ignored it.

Merle left Van to go find her friends and Van went to his locker, because he honestly didn't have any friends in this "dump". He took his hand out his pocket and looked at his watch, he had fifteen minutes till the bell rang, so he took out his CD player, leaned his head back on his locker and tried to relax. If relaxation was ever possible for him. Which we all know it wasn't. So when Hitomi stumbled across him lying against her locker, and that sick pained expression on his face, she was going to touch him to see if he was alright, however his leather gloved right hand whipped out and caught hers before she could touch him. He had to thank his deceased father for his lightning fast reflexes when he got the chance.

"You're sitting against my locker," she told him her wet hair beginning to drip on his clothes.

"Sorry," he apologized yet again then moved over to his side, he peaked at his watch, again. Five minutes. Just enough time to listen to one last song or get up and get his books and head to class and attempt to make friends. He laughed at that thought, make friends, yeah right. Okay so at least go to class, the only problem was he didn't want to get up because he felt sick, and sleepy. It was almost like he had the flu but without the extra symptoms. He banged his head lightly on his locker, decisions, decisions, decisions. It's not like it was life changing or anything, he just felt so tired that the task of actually lifting himself off the floor seemed difficult.

"Are you alright?" inquired Hitomi, her brilliant verdure eyes scrutinizing him. He looked really ill, and she personally didn't think all that head banging was going to help him. Maybe she should offer to take him to the nurses, possibly get him some Tylenol…

"I'm fine," Van assured her as he got up. A wave of dizziness struck him, 'Careful there buddy wouldn't want Miss Nosy Locker Girl worrying about you,' he commented to himself as he steadied his stance.

"Are you sure," she pestered still not convinced.

"I said I was fine," he insisted his voice was cold. He hated it when people worried or fussed over him, all he really wanted was to be left alone. He wasn't a porcelain doll. Van opened his locker with his left hand then pulled out his backpack (that he placed in there when he reached his locker) with his right, black, biker leather covered hand.

"Can I ask you something," Hitomi started trying to be a friendly conversationalist as she tucked a strand of short, honey golden hair behind her ear. He ignored her, which even though it wasn't a yes wasn't a no either. So she took advantage of his unusual silence. "What's with the glove are you a biker or something?" He turned to face her and for the first time she noticed his eyes. They were like chocolate dusted with cinnamon, serious, and chilly. She unintentionally shivered.

"It's none of your business," he muttered almost sneering at her. Jeez, this guy whoever he was, was mean. Van shut his locker and ignored the curious girl with the biggest green eyes he had ever seen.

"Well sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," she retorted. "But if you don't mind can you at least tell me your name so I have something to call you other you."

Didn't this girl ever give up? (This was one other thing about Hitomi that I forgot to mention she can be incredibly irritating without even trying.) "I don't care what I call you, so why should you care about what you call me?" he told her walking away from her. Did I ever tell what a humanitarian Van was?

"Fine from now own I'll just call you a bastard," she informed glaring at him, as she began to walk next to him. Someone called her from behind, and she turned to wave at them. By the time she had turned back to Van or "bastard" (whatever floats your boat kids), he had already made his way to the end of the corridor, and for a moment in Hitomi's mind he looked so lonely, so forlorn that she was genuinely concerned about him. Then she snapped back to reality, if he was lonely it was his own stupid fault.

She walked over to the person who shouted out to her when she was arguing with that guy. "Hey Hitomi," greeted Celena, "meet Millerna Ashton, the richest bad girl weirdo you'll ever meet."

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"Merle! Hello…Merle!" someone yelled at the girl who was in a striped rainbow coloured top, loose fitting jean capri's, striped rainbow leotards, and her classic black Converse All Stars. To finish off her crazy look she stuffed her fluffy, red and pink hair into two ponytails and added a denim baseball hat. Merle turned to look at whoever was calling her, "You look like a walking spectrum. I swear I could spot you from ten miles away." His blonde hair touched his eyebrows as he spoke and his royal blue eyes sparkled behind glasses. Chid tugged at his pine green Adidas sweater, and stared at his friends colourful wardrobe. "It's making me dizzy just to look at you," he joked, shaking his head in a cartoonish (not a word) fashion.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Chid," she answered back in a relaxed tone, smirking at his cute, child like face. "What do you want?" she questioned her smile growing bigger, as she adjusted her cap and sat in the cafeteria seat next to his.

"I was thinking, you should take this Van person, who you haven't stopped talking about for the entire week, to the club. Or even sightseeing just so he could learn his way around," he recommended to her as he took a bite of his huge, homemade, hamburger filled with the works.

"A capital idea darling, if you don't me saying so," she exclaimed, happy to find a way to get Van out of the house. For the whole week she had been contemplating on how to kind of go out with her while making it seem like an outing in which he could be social and make friends. Merle submerged her fry in a load ketchup, so that when she was done the ketchup dripped off of it and the weight of it almost broke the fry. A horrible, disgusting habit that she had and was never going to try to break.

"That's nasty," proclaimed Chid obviously disgusted, and turned his lip up to show it.

"I know dear, but it's an addicting a habit, besides it tastes better when it's drowning in delicious, thick, blood coloured ketchup," she informed him carrying on with her task, dragging and enunciating the last few words of her speech.

"Merle, I'm eating, and you should stop reading so many old books and watching so many old movies. They seem to be affecting you," Chid reflected good-naturedly at her.

"The media affects and dictates many things we do in life. After all we teenagers are so impressionable. Thank you, by the way darling for the wonderful suggestion and if you do decide to come as well please save a dance for me."

"I will as always," he promised her taking another big bite of his gigantic hamburger. The two ate in a comfortable, friendly silence afterward. Leaving Merle to go back three times to ketchup pump to get a refill, and leaving Chid to add in his two cent comments.

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Van stared out through the foggy window, to the very wet outdoors. He was bored out of his mind and his teacher was blabbing on and on about something he really didn't care about. Why had he let Merle talk him into taking a philosophy class? Oh yeah, that's right he liked Merle, and she could basically talk him into anything she wanted him to do, as long as he knew it would make her happy. He had tried ways of ignoring his feelings, distancing himself from her, but she wanted to "bring him out of his shell" (according to her), and so she was always around him, and he always felt compelled to make her smile. 'You are obsessed,' his mind notified him, and Van sighed.

He looked back at the old man who was asking stupid questions that were supposed to make you "ponder and wonder about the world around you". Well Van was wondering how a man who looked he was alive when the earth's crust was just cooling, and who spit boulders bigger than his head could still be allowed to teach. He was so bored.

'Well you can always do something; you're only bored if you want to be,' his father's voice barged into his mind and instructed him. Even when his dad was dead he could still give good advice. Actually he always said that to Van whenever he complained that he had nothing to do. It was the reason why Van was so active, why he would box, why he would run, why he would draw, or listen to music, or sing and dance around with his mother (even if he was embarrassed to do so). Or perhaps he would play video games till he got blisters, or watched T.V till three in the morning, or read a book. His father was the reason for it all. And his mother well his mother always told him that it would be the best thing in life if his wife, or any woman in his life could come home, to somewhere clean and good food was already prepared. He was Spanish and so his mother had taught him how to cook every traditional Spanish and Venezuelan dish (where she lived for four years) she could. She also taught him how to cook food that almost every Gaean woman knew how to. She taught him how to sew (he wouldn't be sharing that aspect with anyone), she taught him how to survive on his own. He was even grateful for his brother's advice but he was dead too, and so there would be no trips to his college, which was where he was going, no seeing him when the holidays rolled around. He couldn't even stop by his brother's grave because no one actually knows he's really dead. So in hopes that he would return his mother would lay a forget-me-not on his bed every month.

Van realized then how alone he was, there was not a person that he could actually call a relative. His mother was an orphan and his father was an only child. His grandparents were dead, and he didn't even have an old and graying aunt or uncle he could call his own. No one to talk about good times with, no one who new his fears, his dreams, what he hated, what he liked, no one who remembers what his parents were like when they first met eachother, no one who knew him. No one who saw him grow up to be the seventeen year old he was now. He had no one. And that thought was chilling. He was lost in a world that only looked out for themselves, he was a number to some, and to others he didn't exist. For example how many people knew he was sitting in the back of this class? He probably guess one and that was that old teacher, and he looked like he couldn't see past the first row. Yet he could notice and knew everyone, for instance that girl with the bright strawberry blonde hair and really bad acne, her name was Patricia, she apparently loved philosophy considering how many questions she's answered already, and how the teacher kept talking to her. The guy in the middle row to the right, the desk before the one next to the shelf, he was Quinton he had an accent that sounded like he was Irish or possibly Scottish. He had unconsciously memorized every single person in his class, yet—even when the teacher called out his name for the attendance—they didn't know he was alive. Lost somewhere between Heather and Daniel.

He wasn't complaining because being alone was one of his favourite past times. Friends according to him, got in your way, so Van just had acquaintances. The only thing was the thought that he was the only one out there by himself that was related to Gaou Fanel and Varie Fanel was scary. And Van hated to be afraid.

He took in a deep breath. All these thoughts about the past had to stop, or else he would be extremely sick. That was another thing he hated, all this vomiting. It was becoming a habit, alright it already was a habit, one that had started the day his parents died, he just turned to the side of the stretcher and barfed. He blamed it on smoke inhalation, because it probably was, but what about now? He wasn't sick because it wasn't "flu season" yet, and it wasn't a bug because if you throw up that often for that long it would be gone by now. 'Stop analyzing every little problem, you sound like a girl. 'Oh no, I think I have bulimia,' 'oh no I think I have ulcers' 'he mocked himself. Then again…oh who gives a damn what he has, his freakin' stomach will figure itself out.

He glanced at his watch with a bored expression. Twenty more minutes till class was over, so he had to find something to keep his mind off of his dead family members. He decided that listening to music and doodling would have to do. A Spanish song blared through the headphones as he began to doodle. He changed the song. His mother loved that song. His mother. 'Just breathe Van'…

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"You're thinking of joining the Floresta dance school?" asked Hitomi as she bent down to tie her blue Wal-Mart 725 sneakers. Hitomi personally didn't care where she bought her clothes or shoes as long as she liked what she bought.

"Yup, I used to go back when I lived here. But that was seven years ago―"

"Aha! That's where I know you from!" interrupted Celena. "You used to go to Palas Private School in Asturia then you moved to Liberty Elementary school," she continued.

"Yeah…but how do you know that?" Millerna wondered.

"Well, I also used to go to Palas then the year after you left, I left too. I was new to the elementary school the same year you were leaving. Me and you sort of became enemy friends always fighting for attention and telling eachother silly little girl secrets," she explained.

Millerna's eyes lit up as she remembered, "Oh yeah, that's why you and me had that strange déjà vu thing going on. You used to be so shy and nice and I was always loud and happy. Small world isn't it?"

"Indeed it is, but back to our original conversation. You were saying…"

"I decided with my dad last night. Plus it would give me something to do, other than sit around and get fat and run up my credit cards," she proceeded in telling them, smiling her charming smile. The trio exited the school, and into the soaking surroundings. Despite the heavy shower just a few hours before the sun was shining, it's rays cutting through the thick fog that was lifting. The sun was also starting to dry up any puddles that the rain had left in its stead, and it was fairly hot out. This town definitely experienced a fast change of weather. It was while Hitomi was observing all this that she noticed a girl in bright rainbow patterned clothes, and a guy who had a familiar glove on his right hand. "Hey Locker Boy," she called out to him, while her friends gave her weird looks. Usually Hitomi was a nice quiet person, so it was a bit odd when she started shouting at random people.

Van immediately knew who the voice belonged to but he chose to ignore it. It was that girl Hitomi, the one who didn't know how to leave him alone and let him enjoy his own peaceful and wonderful company, or Merle's company. She was everywhere. He couldn't even walk home and enjoy the sunshine without her turning up.

He was ignoring her, and Hitomi didn't like to be ignored, she liked if and when she started a conversation to have them answer back, so she ran up to him and the bouncy red headed girl with him. "I said hello Locker Boy," she pestered him.

"What do you want Hitomi?" he groaned not even bothering to look at her. Hitomi didn't bother to ask how he knew her name. Ah well.

"All I ever wanted was your name and then you'll forever be rid of me with the exception of when you see me beside your locker."

"Do you know how annoying you are?" Van inquired of her, but then before he could even go on or before Hitomi could cut in, Merle asked him to tell the young lady—politely— what his name was. He would do anything for Merle. "My name is Van."

Sorry about the quick ending and the utter crappiness of this chapter. But, meh. Next chapter will come faster...and it has a slightly different writing style since it was typed more recently. Anyways as always read and review. JA NE!