The wind was gentle but chilly that day. Mark Tuan, a three-years-old boy was in his room, drawing a picture of his dream house. Arts had always been his interest. Ever since his parents bought him a colour pencils as a gift on his second birthday, he never let a day passed by without drawing at least a picture. It's what he loves to do when his parents were away at work or when he was bored.

Mark Tuan is a very intelligent little boy. He started to walk and talk earlier than any kid. His parents are very proud of him. They showers him with love every single day. Despite being wealthy, he is not even a milimetre close to being a spoiled brat. He was taught to appreciate what he have. Futhermore, he is not really interested in toys.

He love arts. The only thing he would asked his parents to buy for him are colour pencils, crayons, papers and many other arts thingy.

It was then his mother opened the door and look at her child with a soft smile plastered on her face. "Mark," she called.

Mark stop doing his work and glance at his mother then blink at her. "Come down. Father's friend came..."

He puffed out his cheeks, debating whether he should do as what his mother said or not because honestly, he is not that good with people. But his thought was messed up when his mother continued her words, "... and they brought a friend along."

Mark's eyes became wide when he heard that. Friend, that is what he needs right now. Being a quiet person he is, he never approach people first- not even his kindergarden friends. He always chose to just stay at a corner and just do his own work aka drawing.

Mark slowly slid down his chair and walked towards his mother then hold out his hand for his mom to reached it. Then, both of them slowly walked down the stairs. Mark saw his father's friend with his wife... and a girl. A beautiful girl at that. And she is holding a wooden tiny toy.

"Mark, her name is Kim Haneul. Be friends with her, okay," his mother said softly then let go of her boy's hand. Mark walked towards the so-called-girl and blink his eyes at her- same goes to her.

After a few seconds, the girl flash him a soft smile, making Mark's eyes turned wide and sparkles then hold out her hand for him. "Hi, Mark. I'm Haneul and I hope we can be friends."

Mark look at the girl's hand then took it with her own. "Hana..."

All people in the house looked at Mark when he muttered a name. "I will call you Hana," Mark said, not letting go of her hand.

"But honey, her name is Haneul not Hana," his mother explained while his father and Haneul's parents just smile at the little boy.

The boy looked at his mother then flash her a small smile. "Hana means flower in Japanese and flower is beautiful. Haneul is beautiful like a flower so I want to call her Hana."

The little girl's cheeks turned deep red as the mothers shook their head lightly with a smile on their face and the fathers laugh softly at Mark's words.

True to Mark's word. Hana does means flower in Japanese. Ever since then, people call Kim Haneul using her name except Mark Tuan- he calls her Hana.

This is just the prologue. I hope you like it. Thank you to those who subscribe to this story! I really appreciate it.

p/s: spelling and grammar mistakes will be check later.