Hello people! I am back and just as annoying. SO, you're probably wondering why I'm updating so early, well the thing is that you know I skipped last month and this was the chapter I was supposed to post this month, this was the chapter I wanted to leave you people with. Once again thank you for your reviews, you guys rock. Now, there is a lot of fluff in this chapter but there's also a cliffhanger at the end (don't hate me after that, and if you do, that makes two of us). A quick thanks to my amazing beta readers, awesome people, don't know where I would be without them. Let me know what you think and dig in!

Chapter: 13

"Evanescent."

"I don't get you two," complained the old man from the other side of the line. "You've spent the past five years looking for this ghost of a man, you get the slightest of hints, you chase them; and in the end it's always nothing. And this time, you're after something that is completely theoretical."

I leveled my glasses to the bridge of my nose as I flipped through the pages of the irksome history book. Listening to that ancient man's ranting along with the task of working on a shit of an assignment, someway to spend the weekend. "So what do you want us to do?" I retorted, holding my phone between my ear and shoulder. "We have to take our chances, it's peculiar how Gon's father is so well known, but nobody has a single clue where he is; it's like he's erasing his steps."

"You're assuming he's hiding from something?"

"Or someone," I proposed. "It's quite impossible that he's playing hide and seek with his own son; that's too lunacy, even for Ging Freecss."

"Isn't that what he wants? For Gon to come after him? Isn't this sort of a challenge?"

"You don't understand," I explained. "There's no pattern, no single trace of where he goes and what he does. It's like he's only running blindly with the sole purpose of not being found."

"Beats me." He sighed. "If you ask me, I've always found that man a bit too 'gaga'," he emphasized. "Not that I know him really, and no offense; the son's a bit loco too, in a good way though."

I rolled my eyes as I scribbled on the sheet of paper. "Nevertheless, we have to do what we can."

"Take a break," he advised. "Why don't you join us here? The auction is fairly entertaining."

"How's that workaholic?" I asked, ignoring his invitation. "Still getting on everyone's nerves?"

"You know Kurapika, he wants perfection," he lamented. "He's arranging top security for the auction's last days. It's been five years since the spider's attacked, there are no threats, everything's going smoothly, but you know how he rolls."

"Well, you can never be too cautious," I approved.

There was a short pause. "So, you still haven't found anything? Not a single clue?"

"We're taking it slow. The man's worked for the JCI, so he's not clueless. If anything's slightly out of order, we'll be among the suspects since we're the new entries. I wanna give it some time, maybe we'll just observe for a few months. One step at a time, the fewer traces we leave behind, the better. Best to avoid being reckless."

"Speaking of reckless, I've heard you've been going a little too loose on drinking and I'm assuming you're letting the tobacco have its fair share as well? Go a bit easy, that's not how you deal with stress."

I scoffed. "I'm seventeen, I can do whatever the hell I want and, by the way, you can stop keeping checks on our bank account, we're not involved in anything illegal."

"So Zepile told me," he informed. "You boys sure know how to deal with money, eh?"

"It's all about tactic," I assured. "Hold on a minute, I have someone on the other line," I said as I swapped on the screen. "You can't go a day without me, can you?" I demanded, smirking.

"I hate you," she stated. "And I'm not forgiving you, ever."

"That's exactly what you said last time," I reminded. "We know how this ends."

"Shut up, you asshole. I can't believe you and my mom would trick me like that! And to think you had it all planned out, the bet, the—the stupid excuse for getting a dress—what are you, huh? Plotting stuff in that evil brain of yours. And if you think—"

"Are you done?" I asked, bored.

"—NO!" she shot back. "Call my mom right now and tell her that you're busy, your dog died or something," she ordered.

"No," I answered simply.

"Excuse me?" she demanded in disbelief.

"I said no."

"I seriously—" she began.

"We had a bet didn't we?"

"Yeah, but that was—"

"We had a bet and you lost it, now it's up to you to face the consequences. Doesn't matter if it was all planned or a conspiracy of the county's government. You lost, end of story."

"Well, I won't—"

"You never break your word, that's what you said," I recalled. "Are you planning on doing that now? Or were you lying from the start?"

"—I never lie! And no—"

"Well, then. That's all cleared up," I interrupted. "I'll come pick you up in a few hours."

"Killua, please," she begged. "This isn't even about me not able to go in crowded places anymore, dancing—it's not possible—please."

"Chill," I convinced her. "It's gonna be fine."

I heard a long desperate sigh. "You're not even listening to me."

"Haven't I told I won't have you doing anything you're uncomfortable with? Trust me."

"What's the use of all this technology if I can't even punch you through the screen right now?" she asked, frustrated as she hung up.

I snorted and shut the book on my lap. She really was something.

"Was that a girl?" I heard the old man's voice, full of devilish intent.

My eyes widened. I couldn't believe I forgot to send him on hold, he was listening the whole time.

"It was! I'm thinking I know now why you're taking it slow for a few months, all the excuses—" he rattled.

"Shut up," I said through gritted teeth as I hung up. I took off the glasses and threw the phone on the bed, I was thinking of how I needed to keep check on Gon's conversations with that perverted man from now on.

Claire's POV:-

I had put so much effort in keeping my face straight, that it had literally started hurting. You'll get to break his face. That was what I kept chanting in my head as I sat in my mom's huge bathroom, in front of her large-sized mirror as she pampered me. It was making me sick: the heat of the iron, the tight, stinging bobby pins and the makeup she was applying on my face. Moreover, the process required complete stillness. "Look up." or "Keep your head straight." were the lines she had been repeating over and over when I bent over to take a look at my phone or tried to give my muscles some movement to avoid being eternally handicapped.

"Mom," I said, mustering some courage.

"Yeah?" she answered almost in the same instant. But that wasn't what surprised me. It was the tone of her voice and I was rendered speechless when I actually saw the expressions on her face. She looked happy, mesmerized, in pure bliss. I didn't have it in me. I couldn't break her heart. I faked a one-sided smile. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"Oh, honey, you're welcome!" she shrieked as she caught me in a hug so tight that I could have died if she kept me like that for even a second more due to the lack of air.

I caught my breath and sighed. It was just then when another huge wave of guilt hit me straight in the gut, just like the one I had felt yesterday when I was in the car with my dad. I was being unfair to my mom, this wasn't how it ought to be. I should be the daughter who'd go shopping with her, gossip on nonsense and give her manicures. I didn't do any of that; hell, I never even spared a little time to just talk to her. I never asked her how she was doing these days. In other words, I was a jerk. "Mom," I muttered again.

"Yes?" she asked as she applied some mascara on my eyelashes.

"How are you?" I asked in a small voice.

She paused and took a look at me.

I met her expression with a blank face.

"Are you okay honey?" she asked, concerned.

I nodded. "I'm fine. I was just thinking how we haven't talked in a while and I feel bad that I've been ignoring you guys because of all the time I've been spending with Killua. I'm sorry."

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "Honey, we're glad you're spending time with him."

"But dad was disappointed, and he was right."

She smiled. "Hachiro can't help his natural fatherly instincts. Isn't every father is slightly too possessive about his daughter?"

"I know." I shrugged. "You want me to associate with someone my age, but it's still not fair—"

"Claire," she said softly. "This isn't about you hanging out or trying to be social."

"It's not?" I asked, confused.

She shook her head. "Honey, look at you."

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You've changed more in the past month than you have since these seven years," she clarified.

"What?"

"You don't stutter anymore," she enlightened.

I pursed my lips. "And you think that's because of Killua?"

"Honey," she said, placing a hand on my cheek. "That boy has influenced you in an amazing way. All the time he looks at you, I wish you could see what I see. How you two are with each other."

I looked down, this was so embarrassing.

"You know it's one in a million, the chance of finding someone like that. Try looking in his eyes sometimes, I think you'll be surprised," she said as she resumed her task.

"Mom, can you stop embarrassing me," I mumbled.

"I'm your mom; that's my job and, by the way, I'm done. Now go change," she said as she ushered me out.

The dress didn't look so pretty when you realized what crap you had to go through to put it on without messing the hair my mom had just spent two hours making. I vainly tried to reach the zipper, to the point my hand started hurting. After nearly fracturing my fingers, I managed to pull it up. It seemed to me that the hard part was over until I saw the pair of heels that was placed near my bed. I nearly fainted. What the hell was my mom thinking? Walking and breathing at the same time was already one hell of a task for me and while wearing those...

I strapped up the heels and took two calm steps forward until I decided to glance myself at least once in the mirror. I froze for a second, because, in the literal sense of the meaning, I couldn't recognize the figure staring back at me. I blinked twice and the girl in the mirror did the same. The one thing that kept me from believing that that was me, was that she was beautiful—and I knew I wasn't.

The door knocked, startling me. "Yeah?"

"He's here," my mom informed briefly, she didn't even open the door.

I held my breath and glanced at the window, even at the last second I was kind of hoping he'd hop in from there.

He was standing right by the last stair, looking up. I didn't dare meet his eyes, I just took a second to examine him. Hot guy in a suit? My breath was hitching already. From a normal teenage girl, everyone would expect a grand entry, a great display of grace. From me? Well, since the audience consisted of my mom, my nonna, and Killua, since they knew me so well, they didn't even expect me to make it without tripping and sadly they were right. As soon as I got past the first stair, the heels displayed their first miracle and sent me almost flying straight down.

"I got you," Killua whispered as he had one hand behind my waist and one on my shoulder. I blinked when our gazes met. He then swiftly caught my hand and pulled me up until I was standing upright.

"I hope you enjoyed the grand opening," I mumbled, trying to mask my tension.

He smirked. "I'm looking forward to the night already."

I blinked as something flashed right in my eyes. We both looked forward and I saw the camera in my mom's hand.

"Cheese?" she squeaked, gesturing with her hand.

I forced a smile on my face and there was another flash.

"Now look at each other!" my mom nearly shouted.

I felt like digging a hole and burying myself into it. This was so embarrassing. I slowly raised my gaze and found him already staring.

"Don't worry," he assured. "I don't think I can shoot lasers out of my eyes, not yet at least."

I tried to keep a serious expression, but the camera flashed just as soon as a smile crept on my face.

After that, there was a whole episode of my mom sobbing and crying about how I was all grown up now and my nonna almost blocked my windpipe by squashing us both together in a bone crunching hug, and that was saying something since she was in her sixties.

Al last, as we were both seated in his car and driving forward, I took a deep breath. My hands were sweating as I nervously twiddled with my thumbs.

"I think I owe you a compliment," Killua said, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

I looked up. "Really?"

"I'm not that big of a jerk. Why so surprised?"

"No, it's just—okay." I nodded.

"You're exceptionally beautiful," he said, boring his gaze into mine.

I think I slightly gaped. If I could blush, I'd be on fire. "Thank you," I breathed. "You look really—you know—" I mumbled. Breathtaking.

"I'm hoping that sentence is going to end with something good."

"Really good—you look really good."

He didn't answer, he just steered the wheel and took the next turn. I was a bit surprised, he wasn't acting like the smug idiot he usually was.

I leaned my elbow against the door and just looked outside, it was completely dark now. Just thinking about the Homecoming dance made me want to throw up.

"Killua?" I said, surprised as I noticed he didn't take the turn for the road to the college. "Where are we going?" I straightened up, suddenly very alert.

He kept staring at the windshield. "Somewhere."

I blinked. "Where?"

He spared me a glance. "Be patient, it's a surprise."

I had no idea why I was freaking out all of a sudden. I gulped. I eyed him, my breathing went slightly out of control when he unbuttoned the first button of the white shirt he was wearing under his black blazer and pulled at his tie; he could still drive in perfect balance with only one hand.

"Killua," I said firmly, taking a deep breath. I had to be straight-forward here, we could misunderstand each other.

"Hm?" he asked casually.

"Does this have something to do with shattering my virginity?" I said, my voice slightly hysterical.

There was a pause for an instant in which his face went completely blank until he howled with laughter as he stopped the car.

I bit the inside of my cheek, my face was feeling really hot. "What?" I whisper-shouted in embarrassment. It felt like the racket he made was echoing through the whole city at this time. "Shut up!"

He put a hand of his forehead and exploded with laughter again.

I gritted my teeth, I didn't know what was dominating more; anger or embarrassment.

After what seemed a century, the roars leveled down to small chuckles.

"Shut your mouth already," I muttered.

He cleared his throat. "Don't mind my asking, but why is this the first thing that comes in your mind in this situation?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

I clenched my fists. My novels were definitely getting to my head.

"Since you're refusing to answer this, let me rephrase my question," he suggested. "Do you really think of me as such a person?"

I dropped my gaze to my shoes. I really wanted to die. "No," I mumbled.

"Humour me, but have I ever touched you or even looked at you in a wrong, inappropriate way? Or have I ever done anything that made you feel uncomfortable with yourself or I?" he demanded.

"No," I repeated. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not saying this to make you apologize," he clarified. "I was simply curious."

"No, really; I'm sorry. I just—I—say stuff without thinking sometimes."

"What do you want me to do? Should I take you to school or do you want me to proceed?"

I bit my lip. "Please, go on."

He nodded as he restarted the car and accelerated forward. "What you're worried about; it's not gonna happen."

I couldn't understand exactly what those words meant, where was he leading me? Did he really mean that?

"Anytime soon," he added when he saw the surprised look on my face.

I decided to keep my mouth shut the rest of the way. I couldn't tell where he was taking me, but I don't think we were in town anymore. The silence was so awkward he turned on the radio, to my surprise he started singing along with the song after a while. After about fifteen minutes, he stopped the car.

He got out and opened my door for me, then he opened the door to the back seat and pulled something out. I looked around, I had no idea where we were, it was way too dark to make out anything clearly.

"Come on." He gestured with his hand for me to follow him.

"Killua?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you hold my hand, please?" I requested as I pulled up the hems of my dress. "I can't walk in these heels."

"It's at least a five minute walk," he informed me. "And it's not exactly a straight path, hop on." He gestured with his arms.

Somehow, I was incredibly pleased by his offer.

He placed a hand behind my back and one under my legs and pulled me up. he was carrying something else on his arm, something with a strap or handle maybe, I couldn't clearly see.

I held on to his shoulders. I could tell that these shoes would either kill me or I'd dispose of them as soon as I got home; only one would live.

He walked so steadily, like I weighed 9 pounds instead of 90. I glanced at his face and then at his hair, for a moment I had the urge to touch it, remembering how incredibly soft it was.

"What do you put on your hair?" I blurted out.

"Huh?" he asked surprised.

"I mean—you know it's—really—I mean it looks like it's a lot of work."

"It is," he admitted. "It's a real drag sometimes, especially when it gets wet, gets in my eyes. But, um, I don't really do anything special with it, just wash it I guess."

"Does it go down if you over-grow it?" I kept blabbering.

"I don't know, I've never really tried."

"Do you brush it thoroughly in the morning, have you tried combing it to a side?"

"No—I just pass a hand through it from time to time," he said awkwardly.

"Do you use gel?"

Finally, he raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me, but your sudden interest in my hair is kind of creeping me out, you know."

"Well, I've always found it kind of interesting, I mean look at the colour. I'd make up an excuse on how I was doing this for a project on cultures, but that would be a worse excuse than crap and I'm not really making sense right now, but I'm really nervous and I'm awkward, even when I'm not nervous."

"Nervous?" he asked surprised. "What are you nervous about?"

"It's not specifically something. But you're being so calm and formal and kind of decent, it's freaking me out okay?"

"I'm being formal?"

"Well, yeah. I mean you used words like 'proceed' and 'pardon' and I don't know, I didn't know you were supposed to act like this when you went out with someone, if I did I would have practiced a British accent or something."

He started at me. "I'm gonna put you down now since we're here."

I nodded and tried to catch my balance as soon as he placed me down. "I can't deal with these anymore," I complained as I hurriedly took off the annoying heels. When my feet touched the ground, I realized how soft and crumbly it was. "Is this—" I asked grabbing the crumpled dirt. "—sand?" I looked up and my brain percepted the slow and calming noises of the water. "The beach?" I asked in disbelief. I looked around, but Killua was gone.

I jerked my head to a side when I saw a movement in my peripheral vision, there was a soft glow coming from near. I walked towards it, shoes in hand, supporting the hem of my dress with the other.

"Oh my God." I gasped as I saw the fine picnic cloth spread out on the sand, a picnic basket on one side and Killua lighting up candles, which were placed at every corner.

I just stood there like an idiot unable to do anything except breathing and gaping.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" he asked as he started taking things out of the basket. "Because this took an awful lot of effort to prepare."

I strolled over like a ghost, too emotional to walk properly. "You made this?"

He shrugged. "Most of it; are you hungry?" he asked, offering me a sandwich.

I just stared at his face as he handed it to me. I needed to say something, not just sit there and be sentimentally consumed. "This is amazing," I said choked out in a thick voice.

His eyes widened. "You're not about to cry are you?"

I shook my head and covered my face with my free hand. I attempted to calm myself and took a bite of the sandwich.

"Is it that awful?" he asked as he passed me a soda can.

"It's so good," I mumbled. I couldn't remember the last time anyone other than my parents had done something this thoughtful for me.

"Don't praise too much," he muttered awkwardly, scratching his head.

"Really—this—everything is just so great."

He gave me a sarcastic look. "Are you feeling okay?"

I nodded and rubbed my forehead. "Alright, stop acting indifferent and not meeting my gaze."

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You do not do something so huge for a girl and not even look her in the eyes."

He bored his gaze into mine. "Content?"

"Yes, okay, you know what? We have the beach here, the very relaxing sound of the waves, candles, a very starry night and it sounds pretty romantic and all I can think about is how bad I want to kiss you right now."

His expression became surprised. "You—really?" he stuttered, then composed his face and cleared his throat. "I thought about bringing you flowers," he admitted. "But I thought, they'd just wither in the end." He took my hand. "I was thinking—something that would last." He straightened up a bit and looked at me straight in the eyes. "You know how you said I imposed my decisions on you?"

I blinked. "You actually listen to me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Always," he emphasized. "I don't want to do that anymore. Sure, you have a screw loose." He shrugged. "But it's your life, so, follow your heart, but take your brain with you," he suggested. "That's why I'll be along the ride; only if you want me to be," he added. "All your choice, if you wanna take a chance." He leaned down and softly kissed my palm and placed a small black velvet box on it.

I lightly pressed the lid until it opened. I couldn't help the gasp that followed. I ran my fingers lovingly on the silver bracelet as I lifted it and the glittering "K" that hung with it sparkled in the moonlight.

"What do you say?" he demanded while he smiled at me. "Can I make you mine?"

I bit my lip and laughed a short-breathed laugh as I held out my wrist and handed him the bracelet. "I don't know; I say, why don't you try?" I challenged.

He fastened it around my wrist and we both examined it. "It looks perfect," he mused. He stood up and offered his hand to me. "Dance with me."

"There's no music," I mumbled.

He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and tapped a few times on the screen. "Anything else?" he asked as a track started playing.

I rolled my eyes and took his hand. "A disco ball?"

"I think the moon will suffice," he said as he helped me up.

"I can't dance," I admitted as I stood barefoot on the sand.

"Don't worry, it's all in the lead and luckily, I happened to be a good dancer." He placed a hand behind my back and took one of mine with the other. Very slowly and very gently he swayed us to a side then raised out intertwined hands and spun me around once and pressed me against his chest.

"Killua, thank you," I whispered, leaning my forehead against his.

"For what?" he asked.

"For bumping into me in the supermarket that day," I confessed. "And then again in the library, I know, maybe it was a mere coincidence, but up until that moment I never thought life held any chance of improvement. Thank you, for dragging me out of that monotone; you make me a better me."

He looked at me for one long moment until he tilted my chin up with his finger, only then it struck me how tall he was, I had never noticed. Very tenderly he pressed his lips against mine and all I could think of in that instant was how lucky I was to know him, touch him, be with him, have him. I closed my eyes and tried to suppress the feeling that this was all evanescent.

Killua's P.O.V:-

"Congratulations," she said as she scrolled through her cell phone, nibbling on a candy bar. "You won Homecoming King." Her elbow was leaned against the car door, the bracelet hanging from her wrist as we drove back.

I rolled my eyes. "My life's goal has been achieved, I feel complete," I said sarcastically.

"Aren't you gonna ask who won Queen?"

"Is the excitement all over my face?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's Naomi, just so you know. I'm betting she's pretty devastated right now, not seeing you around. Have you seen the way she looks at you?" she mused.

I shrugged.

"Hey, did my mom know you weren't taking me to the Homecoming dance?"

"Actually, no."

"Okay," she said pensively. "I thought you were both in this together, like two plotting master-minds, I can't believe you betrayed her," she joked.

I rolled my eyes. "Actually, there was no master planning, you were just way too naive to figure things out and you can tell Hana everything, it wasn't a secret or something."

Her eyes widened. "Ha, no. I'm gonna stick to lying, a bit exaggeration will do about how I loved the Homecoming dance; I should ask though, why go through all the trouble of making up plans? You could've just asked me."

"Excuse me? Are you not familiar with yourself?"

"Alright, alright." she raised her hands in surrender.

"About exaggerating, I highly recommend you not to, your mom as well as anybody who was ever a teenager knows that these stupid dances are just an excuse to fuck in the bathrooms in fancy clothing."

She gave me a suspicious look. "Okay, I have one more question."

"You're gonna ask it even if I say no, so go on," I invited.

"Why the beach? You like it there?"

"Well, I do but it didn't have to do anything with my preference, to be honest. You called me in such a desperate tone this morning, I decided to make a change in the plans."

She took my free hand and intertwined our fingers.

I stopped the car in front of her house. "We're here."

She grabbed the shoes she had thrown near her feet and got out. As she reached the pavement, she bent near my window.

"Barefoot?" I observed. "Really?"

She shrugged. "Well, I do feel very Cinderella-like right now." She grinned.

I checked my wrist-watch. "Call it a coincidence, two minutes to midnight."

"Okay, so before today ends, I wanna say it once more; thank you."

"For bumping into you at the supermarket and then again in the library?" I tested.

She chuckled. "For tonight; for everything."

"Well," I processed. "Then you're very welcome. Gestures to show your gratitude are also very welcome," I teased.

"In that case, hand me that," she said, gesturing towards the end of my tie.

"You're not going to strangle me, are you?" I said as I obeyed.

"I could," she admitted as she fiddled with it. "But I was planning on doing this—" she pulled it until our faces were inches apart then crashed her lips with mine.

My hand automatically moved to press against her cheek.

"Acceptable?" she demanded as she broke off after a minute.

"Absolutely," I breathed. "Now in," I ordered, gesturing towards her house with my head. "You'll catch a cold."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she walked lazily towards her door.

"Is that an invitation?" I played.

"No, it's an order."

She drunkenly walked to her door step, barefoot with her shoes in her hand, with the other she held the hems of the mesmerizing blue dress that softly hugged all her curves. Her curls bounced gently on her shoulders as she turned to look at me. "Have you ever thought of dyeing your hair?" she mumbled.

I shot her a look.

"Alright, alright." She opened the door and got in, giving me a small wave as she went.

I sat there for a moment glancing pensively at her window as I thought of the mess I had just gotten both of us into.

He drummed his fingers on the dashboard as he sat there in the dark, a stripe of a faint street light, revealing only a part of his face. He leaned his head against the car seat and glanced at her window. He smiled—that was when he decided; he couldn't live without her, he couldn't lose her. He would do it—he would tell her everything, he would. He'd do it the next time he saw her, and God knows how much he was already impatient for it, he would tell her. If what she felt for him was even close to what he felt, she'd accept him. He had lied, beyond imagination; but he was sure or more, he hoped that she would want him anyways—he hoped.

Claire's POV:-

The first thing I noticed when I woke up in the morning as I looked at myself in my bathroom mirror was that I was different. Not in the sense that I only felt different, which I did, but also physically. If I wasn't mistaken or deluded I looked—prettier, happy in sync with how I felt.

My hair was wavy, instead of it's normal straight do, of course after all the curling from the iron and the pins which took about an hour last night to remove, there was no joking there. My skin, which was usually very pale, no kidding, I was anemic, was a creamy colour. My eyes seemed slightly bigger than usual; if I were honest, my eyes were the only thing I actually liked about myself. I had been getting a proper amount of sleep lately and I might have even overslept today. My lips were slightly swollen, but they were always like this in the morning.

In brief, I felt good—satisfied. In a way, I felt kind of mature, not that I was ever reckless, but just a feeling.

I covered the silver bracelet with my sleeve as I headed down for breakfast; I didn't want the 'ladies' asking any questions.

When I was seated at the table with a bowl of cereal, I glanced at the clock and found that it was past noon.

"So, how was the dance?" asked my nonna from the couch.

I chewed slowly. "Fantastic," I mumbled.

"Did you guys do anything special?" ventured my mom as she read her emails.

I narrowed my eyes, I didn't like the way she said 'special'. I shrugged. "Not really."

"Come on," said my nonna tentatively. "Spill the beans."

"No, thank you," I said, trying to act casual.

"We have a right to know, you know."

"Well, I have a right to keep things related to my love-life to myself, if you don't mind."

"So, you're admitting you have a love-life?" my mom said, excited.

My eyes widened. "I—no." I cursed myself inwardly. "I said it without thinking, alright?"

Three quick raps on the door saved me and I was never more grateful to God. My nonna opened it and revealed two tall and sturdy figures.

"Hey," said both Gon and Killua in unison.

Everyone answered with a wave.

"Killua, Gon, breakfast," said my mom, typing on her laptop. I was surprised at how good she was at remembering names, Gon's in this case.

"Oh. No, thank you," excused Killua. "We've already—"

"Oh, honey," interrupted my mom. "I wasn't asking," she clarified.

Both of them exchanged worried looks and obeyed. It was about a minute later that they sat down on the table beside me with cereal bowls. The awkward silence was broken once Gon and my nonna were enthusiastically involved in a conversation about dogs.

"Hey," said Killua, elbowing me.

"Hi," I whispered and we both grinned at each other like idiots. "I didn't know they were such good friends," I said, eyeing Gon and my nonna.

"Oh, well they are; since last night, they both invited him to watch a movie, you know," he informed.

"Did they now?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Well, they did tell me about going out for a movie, but not about Gon going too—oh, hey, I wanna show you something, finish that quickly," I said as I remembered.

When we were both done with our cereal, I took him to my room. "When they went out last night they got these developed on urgent," I said as I showed him the frame on my side table. It was a picture of last night, when I was goofily grinning at him and he was smiling crookedly, both standing by the stairs. "It's nice isn't it?"

He nodded as he sat down on the chair near my study table. "I like it." There was a small pause. "I need to talk to you," he confessed.

I walked to him and met his gaze. "Are you okay?" I asked placing a hand on his cheek.

"Yes," he assured. "Everything's fine," he said as he seated me on his lap.

"Alright, then talk to me," I encouraged.

He smiled weakly. "I was thinking, a walk maybe?"

"Of course," I said as we both stood up.

"Before we go, I want to ask you something."

I nodded. "What is it?"

"Do you trust me?" he asked very much alert.

"What kind of question is that? I do—Killua you're worrying me," I admitted.

He shook his head. "No, please relax, walk with me, we'll talk."

We both headed downstairs, I was a bit freaked out, I had never seen Killua talk like this before. We were almost at the door when the wireless rang. "I'll get it," I announced. "Just a moment." I smiled at Killua and he nodded. "Yes?" I answered as I picked up.

"Is this Mr. Hachiro Ajibana's house?" demanded the man from the other line.

"Yes, this is his daughter speaking," I said confused, my smile slowly fading.

There was a small pause. "I'm sorry to inform this to you, ma'am," excused the stranger, "but your father is dead."

Tragedies, destruction; an endless cycle,

oblivious to when they might shoot another rifle.