It was already late into spring and the first flowers were just barely poking they're heads out of the snowy hillside. Ivan faintly wondered why he chose to stay in this bitterly cold country instead of moving away to somewhere warmer during the war. He hated the bitter cold and the constant need to prepare for winter, even during the summer. He hated being an outcast at school although his pleasant face would never show it. He hated the way his dear little sister obsessed over him to the point stalking him to the store to get milk.
Ivan trekked down the hill to the cobble stone sidewalk that leads to his school. He walked through the crowded hallway to his classroom, and despite the multitude of students, managed not to touch anyone. He listened to the girls at the table next to him, not because he wanted to but because they were very loud.
"Yeah, all three just transferred here," a girl named Elizabeta was saying.
"Are they cute?" asked the Belgian girl whose name Ivan did not remember.
Elizabeta scoffed. "The German is hot but when he started talking, his ego slapped me upside the face! The French one is hot too but he seems like a perv… And the Spanish one…" she made a mock swooning sound before they both erupted in laughter.
Ivan thought about briefly the concept of making friends with these new comers however he pushed the thought away into a dark corner of his mind. After all, he was the Russian freak. The thoughts kept creeping back into his mind as he stared at the peeling white paint on the wall near the window. Maybe if he had a friend that accepted him, he wouldn't quite feel as lonely and depressed as he did. The thought made him tug his sleeve down automatically.
While immersed in his thoughts, the Russian had barely noticed the bell ring. He collected himself quickly and walked down the hall before colliding with a ball of white hair and cursing that tumbled to the floor.
"Watch where you're going you bastard!" yelled the white haired boy, still on the ground after the collision. The ash blonde just stared at this white haired boy with a German accent. In return, red eyes stared up to Ivan's purple ones. How could this boy be so brash and unfazed by the larger Russian? "Well!" said the German again, "don't just stand there!"
"I am sorry." The Russian extended a hand to the smaller boy. He took it and yanked hard so the Ivan fell as well before standing up and going to class. Ivan stared after the boy. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this new boy would just escalate the situation? Ivan didn't need the other's to start getting ideas and pushing him around too.
There was only a few left in the school who remember the last kid to bully the large Russian and even less that were present. He was a smaller boy named Ivan as well but he was darker with darting red eyes. He bossed the larger boy around and abused him until one day the purple eyes seemed to turn black and Ivan's very presence emitted a purple aura the spelt doom. The red eyed Ivan took no notice and prepared for his usual workout of beating the crap out of the other but he was very wrong and the was thing he heard was a childlike laughter and the hissing of the blood and air coming out of his lungs.
No one ever spoke of that day within a hundred yards of Ivan after that and Ivan only learned about it after from Toris, a shy, studious boy, who then realized, Ivan didn't even have memory of the event.
The ash blonde carried out the rest of his day in the library as to avoid the white haired boy. He had almost succeeded until he had to leave and almost ran smack into the German in the same manner as before. Ivan sidestepped at the last moment but was still stopped by the boy.
"Yes?" Ivan nearly hissed.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was late is all." He said with a shrug.
"You pulled me down too you know."
"Yeah but you knocked me on my ass so were even!" He flipped his hair proudly. Ivan looked the boy over for a few seconds. He was shorter than Ivan but acted as though he was just as tall. He had a pointed German nose to accompany his red eyes and pale lips however all of him was pale. He wore the school jacket but black skinny jeans instead of the customary blue slacks. His messy white hair pointed every which way and was just above his eyes.
"What is your name?" Ivan asked after a second.
"MY name?" He seemed happy with the question because his face beamed. "I am the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt!" He grinned up at Ivan. "Who are YOU?"
"Ivan Bradinski," he kept his usual fake pleasant smile on his face but he knew something was brewing under neither, feelings he had never felt before…
*Author's note*
This is my first story so please be nice D: review if you want but you don't have to. I'm not telling you how to run your life. :3 -CL