Chapter: 8

"Expiation."

There was a rumble of lightning, which seemed to have made the whole room shake, or maybe it was just the little girl's imagination. Her eyes were wide with fear and her breathing had accelerated at an abnormal rate.

"Who are you?" asked the tall figure whose face she could not see because she had her eyes covered by her hands.

Before she knew it, she let out a whimper. She was shaking tremendously. "D—don't hurt me. I—I didn't take anything!" she struggled with the words.

There was a small pause. "Hurt you?" asked the stranger, astonished. Now that she noticed, his voice seemed fairly polite, he didn't sound like Yeti... Or maybe he was just pretending, like the wolf in her Little Red Riding Hood story.

She parted two of her fingers and allowed herself a peek at the man. She was still trembling. He was a man. Just a man. But he had a knife. She slowly removed one of her hands from her face and pointed towards the weapon.

The man's eyebrows arched as he looked in the direction she pointed and his expression became confused as he, himself, did not know he was holding it. "Oh, my," he said guiltily and laughed nervously. "I greatly apologize for frightening you. You see, I was about to have tea and I needed a knife for the butter, I seem to have forgotten that it was still within my grasp," he hesitated. "Would you like to join me?" he asked, smiling politely.

She studied him carefully for a few seconds until she slowly nodded.

The man led her a few paces forward where there was a small coffee table and two chairs. He drew a chair back for her and she tried to seat herself, however it was just an inch higher than her reach.

"May I?" the man asked.

She nodded again and he carefully picked her up and settled her down on the chair. The atmosphere was quiet as the man offered her a cup of tea and some crumpets. She placed her fingers gently around the cup, just as Yui-san had taught her; after all she needed to make a good impression, and took a sip.

"What's your name?" the man asked as he buttered a crumpet.

She blinked twice. "Claire," she said in a small voice. "Who are you?" she asked merely moments after.

"That's a good question," said the man pensively. He had brown hair, and a pair of matching chocolate brown eyes. The girl was too young to notice, but the man looked exactly like her. He had the same thick lashes, dark eyebrows, and creamy skin. "You can call me Ro," he said after a few seconds.

"Ro?" she asked, confused. "Do you live here?" she added.

The man nodded. "Do you?" he asked her in the same tone as she had.

"Yes," she said as she held her head slightly high. "This is my father's house."

"It is?" asked the man, surprised.

She nodded. "Yui-san told me so, do you know him?" she asked tentatively.

The man furrowed his eyebrows. "What is his name?"

The girl blinked and her expression went blank. "Fathers have names?" she asked perplexedly.

The man chuckled. "Do you read?" he asked, distracting her.

"Yes, is this your library?"

The man nodded.

"Why don't you let other people in?" she asked, a bit irritated.

"I don't?" asked the man puzzled.

"Yes, that is why ma'am Ingrid doesn't let me here, is it not? Because you forbid it?"

"Ingrid doesn't let you come here?"

"No!" exclaimed the girl. "She shouts at me, she's not very nice. But I know you told her to do so, because you don't want to share your books!"

The man blinked a few times then smiled. "I'm sorry," he said politely. "I would like to share with you."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

The man nodded.

She carefully jumped off her seat and walked in his direction."Yui-san says, that when you share, you start to care. If you share your books with me, I will share my candy with you," she said holding out hand. "Okay?" she asked.

The man's expression turned from confused to amused and then he beamed at the little girl and shook her hand watching her tenderly.

"Good," she said in her high-pitched voice. "I like you, if you are nice to me, we can be friends, like Jack and Jill," she said, smiling.

There was a small clattering coming from the window as the raindrops made contact with the surface. The drizzle would rush, slow and stop. Somehow it seemed in sync with how the blood was flowing through my veins.

'An assassin is incapable of feeling.' but that wasn't who I was anymore— the restraints were broken.

'The only emotions an assassin is allowed to feel is determination prior and pleasure, satisfaction subsequent to the kill.' but I was feeling beyond that— and it stung.

'You were born only to eliminate, erase, Kill. Any concern or emotion past that is useless; it is to be discarded. Your instinct leads you to terminate, destroy, murder; that is your only priority.' Lies. All lies— I could feel. And maybe that's the problem.

'Anything afar from what you have been trained to be will only lead to disappointment. You will end up killing the ones you thought you loved, your friends. You'll only disappoint them, end them. It is impossible for you to feel.' Stop. Enough.

Blood. Flesh. Screams. Pleads. These were the toys I grew up playing with. Tears. Corpses. Agony. Despair. My childhood memories.

He had always been lost. Searching for even the faintest of lights at the end of the tunnel; it never came. Fears of taking the wrong decisions, learning how to make the tears flow back in, forging walls, shutting everyone out; that was all he had. The three-year-old boy who was worshipped, groomed by his family but envied the ordinary. Coveted a normal childhood. The boy who first held a real toy— a skateboard— when he was twelve.

Broken, forged again. Destroyed, restored from ashes. Hollow, then filled again. And that was how he came to be. Killua Zoldyck, heir to the Zoldyck family of the world's most dangerous assassins, fugitive, liar, player, cheater; finally started to feel like he was on the right path when he oriented himself around the hazel-eyed boy who drooped of optimism, radiated light. For the first time in his life, Killua Zoldyck felt like he belonged. Gon Freecss was the reason behind the only decision he knew he would never look back on and that was when he first felt— compassion. With a promise, from there and on, his pain was his pain and his dream was his dream regardless what the future held.

I pressed unnecessarily hard on the joystick buttons, hoping they would fall out as I absentmindedly played a dumb video game on the flat screen.This is how you're gonna take out your frustration? Shut up. There was no need to feel frustrated. She was a smart girl, she avoided him, she had good senses; her instinct told her better. I clenched my teeth.

I didn't need to look sideways, I could tell he was staring at me, but I pretended to be absorbed in the game.

"What are you doing?" Gon asked in his annoyingly understanding voice. I did not need to be comforted.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I asked, irritated.

"You know what I'm talking about."

I ignored him.

He walked in and went for the TV, turning it off.

"What the hell?" I said dropping the joystick on the sofa. "Damn it, I almost had a high score."

He rolled his eyes. "Sure you did," he said sarcastically. "Don't sidetrack me."

As if I could. I sighed. "What do you want?"

"Why didn't you tell me about her?"

"Who?" I asked, blinking, it wouldn't hurt to keep the act going for as long as I could manage.

He gave me a skeptical look. "Oh, you know. The girl you tried to—"

"Alright, shut up," I murmured. "That was for—"

"And don't you dare lie to me," he interrupted. "I've known you or five years, think that's enough time to figure a person out."

Damn it. I just stared at him.

He sighed. "Since you're gonna keep ignoring all my questions I'm gonna get straight to it, what did you say to her? She looked like she was about to cry."

Great, now you made her cry. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" he pressed.

"Yeah, nothing. That's the problem, I told her nothing and she wants to know everything," I said while staring at the ceiling.

"Seriously?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

I passed a hand through my hair.

"Killua! That's it? I mean, seriously? If all she wants is to know about you, why don't you let her?"

I stood up. "And what exactly am I supposed to let her know about me?" I asked mockingly, glaring at him. "That I belong to a family of murderers? That I killed for a living? Yeah, right. How could I have been so stupid? I should go tell her so next time instead of crying she just jumps off a roof 'cause I'm there. Clever," I said patting him on the back. "Real smart."

He sighed. "Nobody said you had to include that part."

"What is there left if I cross out that part?" I demanded furiously. "That is the only part there is."

"That's not true and you know it," he argued.

"Suppose I do make up stuff Gon, what next, huh? You expect me to play with her while we're here and then when the time's up, I just disappear out of her life just like that?"

"Who says you have to leave if—"

"Alright, let's also consider the impossibility of me staying. What's gonna happen after that? More lies? Let's not fool ourselves into thinking that I'll have a life with her and have a dog and house with those fence thingies."

"You mean gates?"

"Gon, no. I know what gates are."

"You want a dog?"

"No, I think Mike was enough for a lifetime experience."

"He was trained that way!" he accused.

"Well he wasn't exactly a golden retriever by nature, was he?"

"He was a... what species was he?"

I shrugged. "I don't know an over-grown blood hound cross-breeded with Hisoka?"

There was a pause in which we just looked at each other. Hisoka was a sensitive subject; Gon always had creeps when he heard his name.

"That was off topic," I concluded sitting back down.

He turned on the flat screen and plugged in another joystick, and before I knew it, we were both swearing at each other whenever one got ahead of the other.

"Thought we were supposed to tell each other about these things. Girls and stuff you know," he said in a small voice. In my peripheral vision I saw him glance at me. "When you wanna talk I'll be here though," he added.

That was what I liked the most about him. He never pushed me, it was like sometimes he could feel what I felt, maybe read my thoughts even. He had this way of getting to me. "Gon," I said after a while.

"Yeah?" he asked, still staring at the screen.

"Fuck you for being such a good friend."

Claire's P.O.V:-

I stared down at my pen, which apparently had dents on it due to the fact that I was chewing on it at regular intervals. My hands were also sweaty, ignoring the almost freezing weather. Don't look nervous. Like I could help that.

It was calculus, another class which Killua just happened to have with me, and even though he was two seats away from me, I felt like he kept staring at me. Of course, I was too much of a chicken to look up and find out myself so I just kept doodling on my notebook.

The door opened and the class fell silent momentarily. A brown-haired man with green eyes wearing a grey suit walked in. He was the same guy I bumped into yesterday, now that I noticed, he didn't look much like a student.

He cleared his throat and the few whispers that were echoing throughout the room died. "Uh... I know it sounds awkward," he said, scratching his head. "But I'm your new calculus teacher, the name's Katashi Keitomaro by the way and... yeah," he said nervously.

Everybody just stared at him. This wasn't the way most professors talked to us, he must be a rookie.

"What happened to Mr. Hiroshi?" someone asked from the back seats.

"Uh... he had to leave town," the man muttered.

Everyone started whispering again.

He cleared his throat again. "Uh… this isn't going to set such a good impression, and I know you are going to hate me for it but... you are going to have to take a pop quiz," he said guiltily.

There were groans all over the place.

"I know, I know, but... the principal told me I have to check your abilities, it's really not hard at all, really," he said raising his hand to silence everyone.

Then he took a pile of paper sheets from the desk and began to distribute them. "Told you we'd meet again," he said smiling as he handed me one.

"Uh—wha—yeah," I said embarrassed because people were looking at me.

"He's cute, right?" Nora whispered in my ear as he moved away.

"Y-yeah, I guess," I shrugged. I allowed myself one glance at the man and found out that he was currently at Killua's seat, smiling at him, while to my surprise there was an expression of deep loathing on Killua's face with a mixture of surprise which lasted only a moment until he composed his face again. I never believed in hate at first sight before, but after my first encounter with Killua, who was I to brag? Miracles happened.

The pop quiz was very straight-forward and easy; I finished it in about ten minutes and was excused from class. The rest of the day passed real slowly, and contrary to my expectations, Killua didn't even once attempt to talk to me even though we had two classes together after that. Good. I didn't care. You do. Shut up.

Except for the fact that my dad was back, there was nothing really exciting, and the evening was just as dull as the rest of the day. I desperately needed something to do, I needed to get out of the house maybe, and I found the excuse of picking up my mom's sweater from the dry cleaners.

"You don't have to honey, I can pick it up tomorrow morning, really," she said, blinking a few times.

"No, I want to; I wanna go out for a while."

"Is it about—?" she began to ask.

"No," I lied, cutting her off. "I just need some fresh air mom."

"Alright," she sighed.

"What about Keiko?" asked my nonna from the couch. They had been discussing names for the baby since two hours ago and still the best I had heard was 'uhh' and 'what if'.

My mom looked at her pensively. "No, doesn't sound... right," she concluded.

"What if it's a boy?" I asked as I tucked the pickup card in the pocket of my jeans.

"I know it's a girl," said my mom. "I can feel it, what about something that rhymes with Claire?" my mom asked excitedly.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, like chair," I muttered.

My mom frowned.

I waved her goodbye and walked outside. It was quiet and it wasn't even raining. The trip to the dry cleaners took just fifteen minutes, and didn't get my mind off things even a bit. I looked sideways as I was about to cross the street as the nearest car passed by; I walked towards the other sidewalk when another car just missed my right foot by a millimeter maybe. I gasped. My immediate reaction was to glare at the driver, but instead, on seeing who it was, I just blinked.

Killua was smirking from the driver's seat his elbows leaned against the dashboard and his head held on his hands.

I scowled at him and walked to the foot path. I wasn't exactly sure whether I was feeling good or not. I just kept walking forward, and just as I expected, he followed me, he was driving forward with just as much speed at which I was pacing.

"Why did Rambo cross the road?" he asked smirking, one of his hands on the steering wheel, while the other was leaned against the car window.

"To avoid the idiot," I muttered.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna have to offer you a ride."

"I'm gonna have to ask you to get lost," I said, looking forward.

"Get in, we'll talk."

"Get lost, I'll walk."

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" he asked, annoyed.

"Why do you have to be such an idiot?"

"Just get in."

"Sorry, my mom said not to take rides from strangers," I muttered.

"You really want to do this the hard way, don't you?"

I glared at him. "I'm armed," I lied.

"Oh, brother," he said rolling his eyes. "Just get in."

"No," I stated as I considered the possibility of running and not tripping.

"Don't think about running, you know I'll catch you," he said casually.

I glanced at him once. He looked... like the literal meaning of sexy. "I wasn't going to, but thanks for the idea," I lied as I sped forward toward the park, taking the route where the street ended. Once I made it, I didn't stop. I went forward and panted as I looked around. The bench. As quickly as I could manage, I hid behind it. It wasn't a very professional hiding place, but it was dark and that would definitely give me some advantage. I took deep, noiseless breaths, I felt like I had run a mile in mere minutes and my ribs slightly ached. I wouldn't be surprised if I pulled up my shirt right now and saw some abs there on my usually flat stomach.

I kept silent, keeping myself alert for any trace of movement or noise. I felt childish, like a five year old trying to get away from baby food or bedtime or a seventeen year old getting away from Killua, which I was.

"You lost me."

I did. I sighed of relief until I froze and looked at my side. Not to my surprise, Killua was sitting to my right with a casual expression. Damn it.

"Don't act like a kid," he said, irritated as he started the car.

I had my arms crossed around my chest and my lips were fixing into a pout as I was seated in the passenger seat.

"Turn that frown upside down," he joked, looking out the windshield.

"I would like to turn your face upside down," I said in the most threatening voice I could manage.

"Seriously, you're really stubborn."

"Ever met yourself?" I asked furiously, not looking at him.

"Oh, I wish. That is, trust me, the only drawback of being me."

I rolled my eyes. "Ah, the modesty, that's what people love the most about you, I guess."

"Let's not forget the eyes, they all love the eyes."

I bit the inside of my cheek, holding back a smile. "Where are you taking me?" I demanded.

"Well considering the fact that it's freezing outside and that kamikaze mission you just went through, I was thinking of getting you coffee," he said pensively.

"I hate coffee," I said too fast.

"Well, you can get whatever else the hell you want," he said.

The drive was very short and after a few minutes he parked the car in front of a coffee shop.

He got out and pulled my door open, standing right behind me the whole the time, until we got inside. It was cosy inside, not to mention bright, but there was no chance it was gonna boost-up my mood. He got in his chair while I just stood there, arms still crossed around my chest.

"Sit," he said.

"You can't tell me what to do," I objected.

He leaned from his chair. "Just get your ass on that seat," he ordered through gritted teeth, his voice so full of command I found myself sitting even before I could think about it. He got himself a coffee, and since I refused to speak he ordered me a hot chocolate.

"Drink," he said, pointing to the cup in front of me.

This time I did what I was told without arguing and took a sip, it was so good I didn't feel like complaining anymore. "What do you want?" nevertheless I asked him.

He intertwined his fingers and bored his gaze deep into mine. "I thought I made that pretty clear last time," he said casually.

I couldn't understand what I was feeling in that moment. Did all people confess this emotionlessly? "Well, I thought I made myself pretty clear too," I said trying to sound fierce, and of course, failing.

"Why does it even matter?" he asked, still looking deep in my eyes, as if, if he looked hard enough, he would be able to read my thoughts.

"It matters to me," I said firmly and took another sip.

"You know," he said playing with the ends of a napkin on the table. "You're making such a big deal out of nothing; you know the saying: to make a mountain out of a molehill."

I gritted my teeth and stared down at my lap. "Why are we even talking if all you brought me here for was to argue about the same point? We're still where we were yesterday."

"Well, if you didn't notice," he said, in a matter of fact tone. "I was trying to expiate myself."

"Ahh, right. I mean, almost running your car over me, chasing me around the park, then carrying me, against my will, into your car and finally forcing me in here just to argue further is apologising. Right, right," I said apprehensively. "You have a very deranged idea of what expiation means Killua," I informed, giving him a skeptical look.

He opened his mouth to talk when a waitress came to take the bill, as she handed him a leather file. He took it and swiftly slipped the money inside. The waitress was watching him with an expression of pure longing. He kept looking firmly at me all the whole time. "Keep the change," he said and then he turned to her and smiled. An unnecessary smile. Her face became expressionless, she was just staring at him and with a mesmerized expression as she walked away.

My insides were burning up and my blood was boiling. My teeth were gritted hard, and I was so furious I felt like crushing walnuts. Yes walnuts.

"Sit back down," Killua said; informing me of the fact I was standing with my fist clenched tight.

"No," I refused, trying to keep my voice composed. "If all you brought me here for was to show me how many candidates you have waiting in line, well then, thank you, but I think I already had a faint idea." I grabbed my bag. "And don't follow me," I added as I walked out.

Killua's P.O.V:-

I slipped my hands in my pockets and took a few steps back, trying to make out a proper view of the window above of me. For the first time in my life, I thought I understood what people meant when they said, "Girls drive you crazy."

I glanced at my wrist watch. Two hours had passed since she strode out of that coffee shop. Damn it. I thought I was doing it right this time. She was just so... obstinate, she was the first person I had met who just as stubborn as I was.

Good thing I had Gon for advice. "Girls only care about little things, like your birthday, your favourite colour, and things like that and if she asks about your family, you know, just... wing it," he said guiltily. Wing it. I was going to 'wing it.' What else could I do?

I walked towards the small, leafless cherry tree and grabbed the closest branch firmly. I swung upwards, until the window was just a jump away. As noiselessly as possible, I held on to the window pane and peeked inside. It wasn't late, of course, so the lights of her room were on and to my surprise she was also there, standing, frowning beside the bed. I couldn't tell what was going on because all of a sudden, she picked up a hair brush from the side table and threw it to the wall, with which it collapsed and fell down. She just stood there glaring at it; her arms crossed around her chest, until she sighed and dropped her arms limply to her sides and went to pick it up.

"Sorry Eddie," she whispered.

I looked around the room, it was empty. Eddie who? Did she just apologize to a hairbrush? Had she just called that thing by a name? Were they all like that? Or was talking to lifeless object just a code for something? I shook my head, and after giving it a moment's thought, I lightly knocked on the window.

She got startled and looked around for the sound of the noise until her gaze fell on me and her eyes widened.

"Open up."

"Wh-what the hell are you doing here?" she asked, confused.

I gritted my teeth. Apparently, she had no idea how hard it was to remain balanced while you were holding on with just your fingers. "Just open this damned window," I whisper-shouted.

There was a pause for a few seconds, after which she crossed her arms around her chest. "No."

I glared at her and firmly gripped the window pane before pulling it up.

Her jaw dropped.

I folded one leg, placed my chin on it and dropped the other when I climbed in the window side. "Guess it had to be the hard way," I said, shrugging. "I'm not gonna even take ten minutes," I assured her.

She glared at me; she must've realized that her disapproval was certainly not going to stop me.

"What—what do you want now?" she asked, trying to act menacing. Like I had once told her, her fiery-filled acts merely made her resemble an angry kitten.

"July seventh," I said as I jumped inside.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"That's my birthday," I informed her as I walked on and plopped down on her bed. "That would make me... seventeen and two months," I concluded.

"Wait, why—?" she asked puzzled.

"Black," I said interrupting her. "That would be my favourite colour," I said, crossing my arms behind my neck.

She pursed her lips, still looking slightly perplexed. "But—?"

"Chocolate balls, as I'm sure you might have figured out, happen to be my favourite food or as people would say 'snack'," I said as I examined her room carefully. "But all sorts of desserts work though," I added.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I beat her to the chase.

"I hate spicy food," I said, grimacing. "And I'll be honest, I'm not a veggie-loving guy, red peppers are the worst anyhow," I said, moving my hand side-ways.

She didn't attempt to speak this time; she just changed into a sitting position on the floor, leaning on her elbows, her chin on her palms. Like kindergarten kids, when they were told amusing stories.

And so, I didn't stop. I kept telling her every minor detail about myself, even the most meaningless bits, of course, leaving out some unpleasant parts. Okay, all the unpleasant parts, and to my surprise, her eyes were full of what seemed like interest. I talked for what seemed like the longest time I had in my life, and found myself using my hands to properly explain things to her, she nodded where she wanted to indicate me to go on, and even asked questions when she didn't understand or wanted to know more. Also, as I noted, she was smiling. Constantly smiling, a smile that reached her eyes.

"Yeah, that's like the best TV show ever!" she squeaked before she knew it, and to my surprise she didn't stutter or look away embarrassedly, she just kept talking that way; a way I had never before heard her talk. I liked that.

I had to stop myself from staring at her face for too long. It was hard because at times, it seemed like I couldn't remember exactly what was going on. I only allowed myself a three second glance at her every minute; it was ridiculous the way I was behaving. Maybe my guardian angel was drunk; I scoffed inwardly, like I had one.

So, I settled for taking in other details of her, like her hair. She had nice hair. She had really nice hair, a dark brown shade which seemed to lighten a bit at the tips, exactly like her eyes. But I noticed that she always wore it in the same way; held up in a messy bun like thingy. Why didn't she ever let her hair down? Girls let her hair down, didn't they? I wondered how she would look if she ever let it down. I bet she'd look—

"Killua?" she said, waving her hand a bit.

"Yeah?"

"I asked you something," she said, staring directly into my eyes and making my heart feel unsteady.

"Sorry, come again?"

"What's the most insulting thing you've been called?"

"A pine cone," I lied. Because what was I even supposed to say to that?

She raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I think I could serve a better purpose than be a conical vessel for…" I paused as something sank in. "Did you just laugh?" I asked, astonished.

She blinked. "What?"

She laughed. She really laughed, and it was a real laugh, not that sarcastic, eye roll, taunting laugh. She laughed. It was... whoa, it was something else completely. It seemed like the first time she had laughed in a really long time. It felt like there was this whole new person, buried deep inside her, who appeared in the form of quick glimpses. I wanted to know who she was, I wanted to let her out of that shell and set her free. I wanted her to show me who she was.

"Killua," she said softly.

"Yeah?" I asked a bit startled.

"You're staring," she informed me.

I cleared my throat weirdly. "So, as I was saying..." That's it, no more looking at her.

She asked me the most insignificant questions I could have thought possible. Including what colour my toothbrush was... girls.

"And yeah… well, that's pretty much all of it," I said, shrugging after a very long read-aloud of my biography, carefully picked-out parts of my biography.

She got up and walked to the bed sitting herself down on the side and before she could even ask, I already knew her question. "Tell me about your family," she said softly.

I sighed. "Well... I have a father"—I tried to avoid the flashes that made their way to my mind. "And a mother—four brothers"—I prevaricated. "A grandpa and a great-grandpa." I made it brief but it seemed to settle heavily on my chest. The lies I kept telling her and the truth that she was better without.

"Why did you move here?" she asked, not meeting my gaze, apparently she was still scared I might react to that.

I sighed, again. "Actually." More lies. I couldn't look in her eyes so, I went through the drawer on her side table, she didn't seem to notice though. "I moved out and my parents got furious, and so we don't really talk anymore, and, well, I moved here because... I hate big cities," I made up. "I wanted to complete my graduation in a quiet and... normal place," I shrugged. "I didn't know you wore braces," I asked her as I examined an old picture of hers.

Her eyes widened. "Give me that!" she said snatching it out of my hand and tucking it in her pocket. "And your cousin?" she asked getting back to the topic.

"He just... sticks with me," I shrugged, again. "Is that all?" I asked, masking my annoyance.

"Just… one more question," she said in a small voice.

I gave her a sarcastic look. "What?" I asked expecting another question about my family.

"Where did you get that hair colour?" she asked, biting her lip, like it was some private information.

"Oh," I said a bit surprised. I considered it for a moment. "My... dad," I concluded.

She didn't say anything, she just stared at me for one long moment, and I didn't want to be the one to break the silence. Then, pensively, she bit her lip and her gaze fell down on mine for a fraction of a second. Then, very slowly, she started to lean in.

I dropped my arms to my sides, carefully positioning them.

"Killua," she whispered, her lips coming closer. "Thank you for..." but she didn't say anything further, her lips were just a millimeter away.

"I collect action-figures," I whispered.

She stopped and then rolled her eyes.

"What?" I demanded. "You asked for it."

She giggled a bit breathlessly and placed one hand behind my neck. She was coming closer... this was it. That moment could have been an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year, a decade, even a century maybe. She was almost there… almost mine.

The door swung open. "Honey, have you seen my— oh," said her mother surprised.

We both pulled away from each other faster than I could have thought possible. I looked away scratching my head while she started rubbing her face nervously. "Uh—y-yeah mom?" she asked, clearly embarrassed.

Her mother pursed her lips and there was a long pause before she turned to me. "Killua, dear," she added.

"Yes ma'am?" I asked, faking innocence. I was surprised she remembered my name.

"Would you like to come for dinner this weekend?" she asked pleasantly.

There was a brief moment in which I saw the girl move her head sideways.

"That sounds great," I said convincingly.

"Lovely," she said softly, until she got out and shut the door behind her.

The girl covered her face with her hands and groaned.

I opened my mouth to speak.

"Don't," she warned.

A smirk materialized itself on my face. "So, yeah. I'll... see you this weekend."

"You'll see me," she said through gritted teeth. "Tomorrow at school."

"Right. Tomorrow at school," I repeated lightly. "The weather seems nice," I commented, resisting the urge to laugh as I walked to the window.

She followed me with her eyes, glaring.

"Looks like a storm is building up though," I added, as I disguised a chuckle as a cough. "Would you look at that?" I said pretending to be surprised as I looked out the window. "It almost seems as someone's mother invited a guy to dinner," I said chuckling. "Hey, Eddie," I added. "Look out for her will you?" I said in the direction of her hairbrush and hopped out. I could mentally picture the way her eyes widened, even though I didn't see her. I heard her groan behind me. I looked sideways and decided that I felt like jumping instead of climbing back down. It was okay. I could fly tonight.

As I soar in the air, with feelings so pure,

I realize that in times of woe, mere belief is the cure.