Meeting didn't seem so significant back then. Alfendi knew nothing of friendship until then and really, the thought was amusing to him.

Being friends with Lucy though, was strange. He was usually so wild around others, little Alfendi was, and no adult could contain his rambunctious nature.

When Lucy came along, a day in the spring time, in the class of Mr Barton, things changed. He never talked to anyone in the class unless spoken to, except for Justin, who he oftentimes fought with. Lucy was always with her friends, Florence and Hilda, chatting along, unaware of his presence.

It was on that first day of spring, when Mr Barton had decided the children could go outside and play a game, that Lucy was partnered up with him.

"Hello!"

She was the first to say anything to the dysfunctional, antisocial five year old child of the great Hershel Layton, He kept his red book bag in front of him, to shield off others and keep them away from him, while he read his book. She nudged him, going past his barrier and touching him.

Alfendi almost sprang into the dirt, not expecting anyone to even come near him. His sharp, gold eyes shot daggers at her and he snapped, "What do you want?" He was busy and didn't have time for this girl, whoever she was.

The tone did nothing to deter her, and she kept her smile. 'Mr Barton want you to join us int' game." She put it simply, holding out her hand to bring him along.

He had no choice in this matter.

So they were put together in a game of traitors, which had the class figure out which pair of kids were traitors before the entire class was taken out by them. Alfendi was put with Lucy because of her friends paired with each other. Despite his dislike for being around others in this class, he stayed with Lucy.

"Wot is your name?" Her voice came to his ears in a whisper as they hid behind a tree. She threw a small rock over to the swing set as they were ready to move.

There was an ease in his mind as he replied, "Al-Alfendi. What about you?" He kept his eyes on his backpack, something very special to him inside.

Pulling him to the swings, she jumped onto one of them, her red eyes peering around curiously for any other soul. "I'm Lucy." She swung her legs around as they waited. When she saw his focus on something else, she looked to where he was and moved her head to the side slightly. "Is that your bag? Are you going to get it?"

"There's something important in it." He grabbed the chains of her swing and pulled back. "I just… Want to make sure no one takes it."

"Wot's in it?"

He said nothing, wanting to keep his prized possession a secret. Pushing her forward, he watched as she began swinging higher. Oddly enough, he didn't snap at her like he did Justin. Granted, he hated the boy more than any of the other kids in this class, he'd usually completely avoid and despise people he wasn't used to.

Lucy made him feel weird.

Yet cooties eventually became friendship.

"Come on, Al! Lighten up!"

The lad put his book bag on his lap, in safe arms. These 'friends' were beginning to bug him again.

Sniffer snatched his glasses from Dustin, cleaning them and slipping them back on.

Florence tugged on the zipper of Al's bag, with a curious look. "What's in here that's so important to you anyway? You've always kept your bag close and it's weird."

His eyes narrowed and he was about to respond, when another voice did for him. "It's nowt you need to know about, Flo. Whatever's in there is 'is and he wants to keep it a secret." Now she was protecting him. She didn't need to do that. He could handle things himself, without this odd girl.

Resting on his back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled, a tune that kept him calm, like the weather of this spring.

He'd usually say something. These ten year old fools always acted half their age and Alfendi always had something witty to say. For some reason, this girl always made him shut up, calm and quiet, like a doll.

It was just something about her that made his rage go silent and his heart warm.

That day in spring, he figured out what that feeling really meant. He finally found his voice, all those years later and spoke out the emotion lock in for so long.

"I love you, Lucy."

That spring, eight years after the day they met. He finally felt his heart slow near her.

Slow to a stop.

"Oh." She frowned, a hand curling into a fist, "I'm sorry, Al. I just don't feel t' same way for you. You and I can still be friends, I hope."

Lucy, at eight years old, effectively calmed his wild streak. At eleven, she easily silenced his anger. On the last day they spoke, at the equal age of sixteen, Lucy mercilessly stabbed him in the heart.