This is going to be an extended edition of a brief story I made for one of my Micro fan fic memes. It's 1P! and 2P!Iggy and it's a Gakuen AU.

This is really just a prologue to the main events - with a little bit of foreshadowing. (Though, if you've read the bit I've already mentioned, that'll tell you what's going to happen.

Also, about the 2P!Iggy. He's not going to go around with knives or poison anyone since I don't see the 2P!s like that, really.

Oliver had a problem. It wasn't really a problem, to be honest. He was quite happy about it, really. However, he was also nervous and scared and he couldn't help being unable to breathe when the not-problem turned up.

You see, Oliver was in love.

And, at high school, this wasn't the sort of thing you could discuss with others. Especially with the people in his school. He supposed that Francis or Kiku would be good confidantes. Then again, the chances of other people overhearing were high. If he was to ask their advice, he would have to ask them to meet and some people at the World Academy were hopeless gossips.

What was worse, however, was who was in love with. He wasn't in love with just any student in the school. He was in love with the Student Council President, Arthur Kirkland. The moody, unapproachable gentleman whom Francis would surely warn him away from and Kiku would show his doubts.

He had contented himself by watching the fellow Brit from afar. Of course, he couldn't hold back his feelings and so he had become a bit of a poet over the last year. Of course, he hadn't let anyone else see them – he had decided that they would be for his eyes only.

Actually, there was a slight problem with Oliver's crush. Arthur didn't seem to notice him. Oliver would greet him, offer him cupcakes, happily defend him when others picked on him for his harshness. Arthur only responded with a brief greeting or a thank you or decline his offers.

To gain his attention, though, Oliver had come up with a plan. He had decided to form a club. An Amateur Cooking Club. It was designed to help those with little-to-no cooking skills learn how to cook simple dishes. A lot of the time, though, Oliver used the time to bake more cupcakes. He would shape the icing into lovely designs, all the time thinking of Arthur and if he would like them. Of course, a lot of the time, Arthur never saw them. But others did and they praised them heartily – or told him they were rubbish and ate them, anyway. But that was just Jacques' and Melvin's personalities.

Today, though, Oliver had decided to change tactics and try to go on the offensive. He had gotten up extra early. He had made fresh cupcakes. He had gotten to school incredibly early.

He had decided to wait for Arthur to arrive.

So he was rather surprised to see the man arriving at much the same time as him. The green eyes glanced at him and a thick eyebrow was raised. "You're early, are you not?" he asked in those incredibly musical tones (or, rather, it was like music to Oliver's ears).

"Well, yes, my dear," replied Oliver enthusiastically, in his usual way. "I thought, since you have been working quite hard recently, you could do with some cheering up!" He smiled at Arthur, gesturing with the bag full of carefully placed cupcakes.

Those emerald eyes flickered to the box and a slight tinge came to his cheeks. "Th-Thank you. But I've already eaten this morning."

"Ah," said Oliver, a little disappointed. He didn't try to hide it but he glanced up again, suddenly excited as a thought had occurred to him. "Why don't I leave it on your desk for you to eat later?!" He beamed at him, his blue eyes, for once, staring straight into those beautiful green ones.

"Ah, well, yes, fine," said Arthur, seeming a little flustered. Then the president glanced past him towards the approach of another student. Oliver turned to see the tall blonde figure yawning as he stepped through the gates.

"Bonjour, mes chers!" exclaimed Francis, rubbing at his tired blue eyes. He glanced at Arthur. "See? I am here early like I said I would!" He pouted, probably at the memory of Arthur's glaring and ranting the day before. "It will be Teresa who will not be here on time! You know she is such a sleepyhead, oui?"

"Well, if she doesn't show, you can work twice as hard, can't you?" was the reply.

"Um," said Oliver, unsure as to whether to leave them be or wait with them for the other council members.

Francis glanced towards him at the noise he made. "Ah, bonjour, Oliver. You are here early, non?"

"Ah, well, yes," said Oliver, a little flustered. He glanced at Arthur who was watching the gate, waiting for a sighting of the Seychellian. He seemed to be so intent on the task that Oliver decided to speak to Francis, hoping Arthur would join in. "I-I thought that certain people who have been working hard should have something to cheer them up." He held up the brown paper bag.

"Oh?" said Francis, glancing at Arthur with an amused expression on his face. Perhaps he had already had suspicions. Perhaps he spotted Oliver's slight blush. Either way, he seemed to know what Oliver meant. "Sourcils here has been working hard – are you going to have some?"

Arthur, whom the last question had been directed, flashed an irritated glance in Francis' direction. "I thought I told you to stop calling me by your stupid French nicknames, Frog."

Francis frowned and Oliver sensed that the atmosphere was growing sour. "N-Now, don't argue!" he exclaimed. He smiled happily at them both as they glanced at him. "There's plenty for all of the council members! Shall I go drop them off in the student council room?"

Arthur looked at him again, those beautiful eyes boring into Oliver's. "Please," he said with a curt nod. He turned back to look at the gate and gave a happy exclamation. "Ah! It looks like Teresa has made it…"

Both Oliver and Francis turned to look and watched the young, tanned girl walking along. She seemed to be drooping as her dark hair with its red ribbons fell forward of her shoulders. She stopped as she reached them and yawned. "Morning," she muttered.

"Cupcake?" Oliver offered.

Teresa seemed to brighten a little and she held out her hand. Oliver carefully opened the bag and, equally carefully, lifted a pink cupcake out of it. He handed it to her and she started to nibble at it, almost as though she didn't have enough energy for eating properly.

"Well, if you'd like, you can go to the council room and leave them there," said Arthur. Oliver glanced up to find him watching the lighter-haired Brit. Flustered, Oliver nodded. "We still have to wait for a few more people, Arthur informed the other two. Teresa nodded and Francis smiled at Oliver who hurriedly turned towards the school building.

"Why, yes, of course, dear!" exclaimed Oliver heartily. "I'll put them on your desk, Artie!" And with that, he hurried inside.

Later that day, as the students were filing out of the classrooms to go home or to their clubs, Francis tapped Arthur's desk to gain his attention. The Englishman finished what he was reading, setting it down before he raised his eyes to gaze blankly at the Frenchman.

"What is it? I'm busy," said Arthur, his tone sharp and harsh.

"Ah, cher, you wound me so," replied Francis, pretending to clutch at a wound to his heart.

"Yes, yes," said Arthur, waiting for him to continue.

"Everyone is leaving, cher. Are you still working?"

"That's why I said that I'm busy."

"Well, I shall leave you to it." Francis surveyed the desk. "Where are the cupcakes that Oliver gave you?"

Arthur flapped a hand at Francis, trying to make him leave faster. "Alfred came in, complaining about being hungry, so I gave them to him. He scoffed the lot. Now, will you leave?"

Francis frowned at the boy behind the desk. His uniform was still immaculate, as usual. His expression was stern. How anyone could fall in love with that personality was beyond Francis. Though… He supposed that, when he was embarrassed and flustered, it was rather cute.

The Frenchman then glanced at the desk to ascertain how much work he had left to do. The pile of papers which never seemed to decrease were still neatly piled on the desk. He glanced down at the paper Arthur had just finished reading and read it himself, upside down. Alarmed at what he saw, he snatched it up, turning it right way up for a better look. "Q-Quoi? P-Pourquoi?"

"It's a monetary matter, Francis. Don't worry yourself."

For clarification: Jaques = 2P!France, Melvin = 2P!Canada

I picked the name Teresa for Seychelles from a list of popular girl's names in Seychelles.

I hoped you like it and it'll definitely get more interesting. I have the feeling my writing style is a little different from usual and I'm not entirely sure why...