The house was on fire.

Yes fire.

Fire that flickered, burned, scorched, licked wooden frameworks with hungry lashing crimson-orange tongue. People quickly alerted the fire department while some called the police.

Suddenly…

Crash!

A window was smashed into pieces, glass shattered everywhere as a girl tumbled out of the window and landed gracelessly on bushy plant. Her feet were bleeding when she accidentally stepped on the glass shards. She walked wobbly and was greeted by the sight of her burning house. Her eyes widened in amazement.

The sight of the burning house was gorgeous. But the house was not important. It was the fire.

Fire sparkled and flashed and flickered and created soft shadows of cinders and ashes in it's destruction wake. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

One arm gingerly supported her fractured ribs and broken arm, resulted from the fall. And not only that, her body were aching but she choose to ignore them. She continued to stare when suddenly her legs felt like jelly and she slumped to the ground.

She scooted closer to the house and extended her uninjured arm.

Trembling fingers were outstretched. Now if she could only held and cradled tenderly those gorgeous thing.

Her gaze were unfocused but wholly absorbed at the sight as her fingers twitched, tempted to touched it. A matchbox was clutched tightly in her other hand. She glanced down and grinned gleefully.

She had caused the fire.

And she wanted to see the beautiful sight again.

Then the police found her.

-5 years later-

Sharp orange colored eyes surveyed the surroundings. A girl sat cross legged in one of the darkest corner in the tunnel, throwing a matchbox up and down with a hand.

Up…down…up…down…

Some people inside the tunnel were watching her but she wasn't bothered even the slightest. Her black jacket hood shielded her face from them. Judging from her androgynous body, it will be kinda hard to tell if she is a boy or a girl from a distance.

She glanced down at a number tag pinned to her white T-shirt. Number 210 was printed on it. She caught the matchbox before shoving it into her jacket pocket and she frowned.

The Hunter Exam.

It was said that the exam was very hard. Many people faced their end in this place. Some passed and some became disabled. But the result after their suffering was worth it at least. Their dreams and goals could be reach, either it was good or bad.

"Hello, you must be a rookie," a male voice said.

The girl looked up and came face to face with a man that highly resembled a pig, a number tag with number 16 was pinned on his shirt. She quickly memorized it.

"What do you mean?" She questioned. The man seems to froze in confusion before blinking his eyes.

"You're a girl." The girl raised an eyebrow and chose to ignore his remark.

"You haven't answered my question," the girl said. The man smiled nervously.

"Ah yes, sorry. Anyway you're new right?" The girl nodded.

"How do you know that?"

"Actually, this is my 35th time taking the Hunter Exam so I guess you could say that I'm a veteran." The man scratched the back of his neck and let out a sheepish laugh ,"although I've never actually passed it as you can tell."

"Is it that hard?"

"Uh yeah…I guess." The man rummaged his bag and took out an orange can.

"You must be thirsty right? Here, I have an extra orange juice if you want." The man handed her an orange can. She stared at the can suspiciously.

"Thanks but no, I brought my own water bottle," the girl said and raised a plastic bottle.

"It won't hurt to have another drink right?" The man urged.

"Yeah but still no, I don't like orange juice anyway," the girl said.

The man continued to persuade her until she finally gave in. After she reluctantly accepted the juice, the man quickly scurried away. The girl stared at the can before putting it beside her. She closed her eyes, attempting to drift off to sleep only to be interrupted.

"Can I sit here?" A voice asked.

The girl opened her eyes, annoyed and found a boy with silver hair and dark blue eyes, carrying a yellow skateboard standing in front of her. A number tag was pinned on his chest with the number 99. She blinked and she nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing a bit.

"Sure."

"Thanks." The boy slumped down next to her and noticed an orange can beside her.

"Can I have that ?" He pointed at the can. The girl handed him the can. He opened the can and started drinking it. Once he's done, he set the can beside him and wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve.

"The can has laxative or poison in it actually," he said while grinning at the direction the man scurried away. She blinked, dumbfounded and when realization sank it, her face paled.

Poison ?! She thought, clearly horrified. The boy seems amused by her reaction.

"You don't know?" The girl huffed and crossed her arms on her chest.

Like hell I know…

"No, I don't."

"If you know it was poisonous, why did you drink it then?" The girl continued. The boy shrugged.

"I'm immune to poison so drinking it won't have any effect to me," he explained. The girl's eye twitched.

"That's…very convenient."

"Yep, by the way I'm Killua," he said and extended his hand. The girl stared at his hand for a few seconds, wondering if she should shake it or not. She grabbed his hand and shook it slowly.

"I'm Sora."

A/N: Hi~ hope you enjoy this story. The next chapter will be updated soon…I hope. My updates are random, please be patience *bows 90○ degrees* Feel free to review, follow or favorite this story. I would love to hear your opinion and maybe tips so I could improve. By the way, this story is based on 2011 anime.

Bye~