[1] Show Me How

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AP Physics II had to be the most fatiguing and soulless requirement for chemical and biochemical engineering majors. The students who sat in their lecture room for nearly an hour and a half now were reaching their limits, pulling on their hair, hitting their nails, and chewing on their tongues in hopes that they'd drown in their own blood.

The professor's passionless voice didn't make their case any better. Being in that class had to be some twisted legal form of torture, and at 6:30AM twice a week nonetheless.

The students were well into the first semester with hopes of Thanksgiving break arriving sooner rather than later. The date being the first of November, finals were the talk of all students at Yorknew University. This class was no different.

Their stout, slightly obese, and balding middle-aged professor droned on and on about matter pertaining to their final, which would be a project on the transport phenomena. Each second the little red hand on the clock ticked, students grew more impatient, clutching their hot beverages infused with incredulous amounts of caffeine like their lives depended on it. All of the students hated this class—all but one; and, of course, that student was none other than Yorknew's brightest: Killua Zoldyck.

Although the morning had just barely began and his day started at around 4:30AM rather than thirty minutes before the start of class like the rest of his peers, Killua propped his chin on his elbow which leaned upon his desk as he took notes on his MacBook. He paid earnest attention to every detail, and even began his own brainstorming on what his project would entail and how he would go about producing it.

Killua had many other talents, most of which were concerning the visual and performing arts categories, but his true passion lie in the sciences, mathematics, and engineering. He'd found that he'd rather dedicate his life to something that would not only fulfill his life, but it would also pay his bills.

He'd always been an academic weapon, Killua had. He was valedictorian in his graduating high school class and on track to be valedictorian again next semester. He'd never received marks lower than 92%, even in his most difficult courses, and found that he had a knack for languages, as he is fluent in four outside of English. Despite all of this, Killua would never admit to himself that he was, in fact, intelligent. Perhaps it was honesty, perhaps it was guilt, but you'd never hear Killua blatantly speak highly about his intellectual advancement.

The three-hour lecture came to a close at 9AM sharp, and the class was dismissed. Killua finished up his notes, his brow furrowed as he focused to be able to see through his blue light glasses.

Surely enough, he completed his notes for the day, shut his MacBook, and laid it back in its case before placing the case in his nearly empty tote bag. His tote bag was beige and had all different types of manta rays and string rays on them. It was his personal favorite because manta rays were too.

He held his hairtie in between his teeth and slung his bag over his right shoulder. From there, he took the elastic and tied the rest of his shoulder-length hair into a messy low ponytail and started for the door.

He slipped his headphones on from around his neck and hummed to himself absentmindedly as he walked through campus and toward the Northwest exit that took him to the nearest Northbound bus stop.

As he fiddled with the keychains dangling from his belt, he pressed the crosswalk button incessantly, waiting for the sign to walk. What he could use now was a nice, long nap, and some leftovers when he awoke.

His dreams of food and rest, however, were interrupted by the stranger who had walked next to him specifically.

Among the entire crowd, this specific student had wiggled their way toward Killua and stood by him. He pursed his lips and refused to look over without reason.

Lonely Hearts Club||KilluaXGonWhere stories live. Discover now