Hands pushed at his chest, at his arms, at his navel. Up against the lockers, amongst the crowd, he was shoved against the cold metal. Arthur's attackers only grinned and smirked as they shoved him. He refused to cry aloud, just biting his lip and waiting for them to finish. Today, they were gifting him with verbal abuse as well as physical. Charming.

"Not going to cry today? Or are you going to go off and weep to your 'fairies'?" scoffed the elder of the blonds in front of him, flicking his hair and smirking.

"Or are even they done with such a loser like you," sneered the second. Arthur wanted to keep quiet, but his anger had been bottled for quite some time now. Sixth grade was not supposed to be like this.

"Shut up!" Arthur yelped, trying to push out from the hands of the bullies. "They're real! You two are too dumb to know how to see them!"

"Alright, break it up, kids," a teacher called, striding towards the three of them and tugging back the aggressors with firm hands. "Alfred, Francis, what have I told you about picking on Arthur?"

"Not to," they answered in unison. Arthur just quivered where he stood.

"Exactly. Now apologize and leave him alone."

"We're sorry." Francis and Alfred lied, feigning their remorse rather awfully. With that, they turned, and the teacher gently shoved them away.

It had been two years since those times, and Arthur was readying himself for his first day of highschool. He lived with his brother Allistor, and said brother was gently nudging him and making gentle fun of how he looked in the uniform.

"Just kiddin', ye' look great. Go get 'em, Arthur." He hummed, giving his little brother a hug and then sending him off to get on the bus.

Arthur hadn't changed too much since primary school. He had gotten taller, although was still short compared to other people. He had become withdrawn and easily bitter due to the relentless badgering he had gotten from Francis and Alfred. Those bastards, they had been bullies to him for three years, ever since he let slip that he could speak to fairies. It wasn't just fairies though. Leprechauns, unicorns, brownies; he had a sight for such miraculous creatures. That would be due to the magical energy that coursed through his veins.

Arthur had never known his mother or father, not properly. He had a younger brother at one point, but it was his fault that he no longer did. Only four months after his birth did it all go wrong. It had been dark and storming outside, and the little Arthur had been awoken by a crack of thunder and bright lightning outside. His mother had awoken and come in to comfort him, but all he could do was cry and scream and wail and the electricity broke from his soul and out of his tiny hands and-

Well. That's a story for another time.

He had never come to terms with what he was. He could run sparks from his fingers, play with electricity like it was just a toy. Arthur had learned to control it, but before doing so had often accidentally given himself an electric shock while in the shower or bath, and sent himself into an almost-paralysis. His brother told him a story long ago about how his mother had been able to toy with water, and he wondered if there was any connection. There was, of course. He inherited a magic of his own.

Self-conscious, he fiddled with the straps of his heavy bag. He was going to a new place now, and he would not have to deal with Alfred and Francis anymore; Alfred would not be coming to this school, and Francis had returned to his home country. He could be free, and perhaps, if he was lucky, he could have a new start. He wouldn't need to be made fun of any longer for a mistake long ago. People were judgmental and crude, and he trusted no-one, spare his big brother.

The gates of W. Academy were tall and painted pale gold, and stone lions stood to either side. Arthur felt a whole new sense of hope. Older students were already all about the front of the school, whereas his fellow grade eights were to be sent to the assembly hall to receive timetables and be given the whole lowdown on what highschool would be like. He bit his lip, and followed the signs posted near the gate.

Others in his grade were sitting in groups and chatting amongst themselves. He recognized no-one, but was a little thankful for that. It would be hard to make any friends, since everyone seemed to know each other already. Then again, Arthur was very rusty on that topic, as he had not had a friend since fifth grade. They had left him as soon as the bullying started, too afraid of being targeted as well. What a wanker.

The bell sounded over their heads, and a few teachers began to show up in the assembly hall. It was just grade eights summoned here; other grades were to meet in different spots. Fiddling with his itchy cardigan, Arthur sat down a little way away from a chattering group. There was a tapping on a microphone, and the crowd slowly quietened down.

"New students!" A man with curly auburn hair and a bright smile stepped up to the little podium, leaning casually against the lectern and speaking into the microphone. "Welcome to W. Academy! I am Mr. Vargas, Principal and Head of the History department." He introduced, voice thick with an Italian accent. Arthur tried to listen, but got a little distracted as a shy-looking boy shuffled in and sat down beside him.

"I'm late.." the boy mumbled to himself, looking up at the principal with fretful brown eyes. Arthur turned slightly, and forced his lips to part.

"He just started, don't worry." He said quietly, amazed that he'd been able to stammer that much. The boy beside him gave him a weak smile, nodded, and turned back.

After the introduction speech, students were given timetables as their names were called out, and all looked over them. As they were being given out in alphabetical order, Arthur patiently waited. Kirkland was toward the middle of the alphabet. The boy beside him received his timetable before too long, and only a few minutes later, Arthur received his.

Along the top, it read 'W. Academy, Arthur Kirkland (Yr. 8)'. Beneath that was a table of subject boxes with numbered classrooms and teacher names typed below. He recognized some of the code from orientation day last year, and looked to the key to find out what class he would be having first. English. It didn't seem too bad, as he was quite good at literacy. His favourite part of the subject was narrative writing and poetry. He doubted he would actually be doing English work, as the lesson would probably just be the teacher talking about the curriculum and what they would be doing.

He peered over the shoulder of his dark-haired schoolmate, trying to read his timetable. Perhaps, if he could stutter out a little conversation, he could make friends with this boy. Yes, that would be his goal. When he noted that Kiku Honda (Yr. 8) had English as well, he allowed himself a little smile. Perhaps they would end up sitting together.

"You're breathing on my neck.." mumbled Kiku, shuffling a little bit away from Arthur.

"Terribly sorry," he murmured back, giving a meek shrug. "You have English, right?.. I have that too." They were dismissed and sent off to find their classrooms by the teachers about, and Arthur stood.

"I saw you reading my timetable." Kiku stated, turning a little and walking with Arthur through the crowd.

"Er, sorry," Arthur mumbled, walking quickly beside his classmate to get out of the thick horde of students. "Kee-que, right?"

"Kiku," he corrected, seemingly horrified by Arthur's pronunciation. Perhaps it was a British thing to say names so horribly.

"Sorry, chap, Kiku. My name is Arthur." He nodded, tugging at his cardigan as they walked. "Actually, where are we going?.."

"Languages block." his companion answered simply, having a bit of trouble with L sounds.

Kiku was a little frightening at first, but looking at him after the first five minutes of sharing his company, Arthur noted that he wasn't so scary after all. He had a certain softness to him, and he was like.. Well, Arthur would describe him as a warm and creamy cup of chamomile and mint tea.

They reached the classroom and idled outside. A teacher appeared before too long, a sweet-looking young woman with strawberry-blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She wore her hair in twin pigtails to either side of her head, pinning some back at the side with colourful clips. She told the class in a merry English voice to take out their notebooks, pencilcases, and timetables, and then come inside.

Arthur stayed close to Kiku as they entered the small classroom, and sat down somewhere towards the back of the room. The walls were covered in posters encouraging proper use of grammar and punctuation, and there were a few about bullying and 'how to stop it'. Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes. Hahah. What a load of bollocks. Also, he swore he smelled cake mix.

"My name's Olivia Bailey," she chirped, idly using a broom – why did she have a broom? – to sweep in front of her desk. "And I will be your English teacher for the year! You can call me Olivia or Ms. Bailey, and if you really like me, Ollie." One she ensured cleanliness in her little area, she put the broom aside, and sat down in her desk. Her name was written on the board in pink marker, with a little smiley face to the side.

Arthur leant his elbows on the desk, watching the introduction and whatnot without a word. She seemed to be a nice teacher, if a little.. erm, eccentric. After going over her expectations for class behavior, she went about issuing little 'get-to-know-you' cards between pairs of students, and made them do the activities listed. This wasn't too different from primary school, Arthur guessed, except this time, he didn't have bullying assholes staring at him or calling him names.

"Ahem? Arthur, I'm supposed to ask you your favourite colour." Kiku said, interrupting the blond's train of thought.

"Oh, right," he mumbled awkwardly. "Radioactive green." Arthur answered, nodding. "Uh, yours?"

"Red."

This carried on for a little while, with the pair exchanging and answering questions from the card, nodding and smiling when the other answered something in a funny way. After the lesson ended, Arthur mentally declared he and Kiku Honda friends. It felt so damned good to have a friend again, as he had missed such a thing dearly.

The next class was Math, which had both Arthur and Kiku zoned out. This teacher was not as cheery as Ms. Bailey. In fact, he just smelled like smoke and wrote up various principles of revision numeracy upon the board, which Arthur quickly copied down. He, compared to the bright Olivia, wore a dark purple dress-shirt and black slacks, and had long dusty-blond hair tied back with a black ribbon. He also seemed to be growing a beard.

His name was Francois, and he said that he had no last name. How odd. There was a murmur of agreement across the class that he would be called Mr. F. He was in no way kind, just bleak and dreary, making Mathematics even drabber than it already was. On top of that, he was harsh and strict, and he made Arthur remember that this was high school now, and a lot more would be expected of him.

He made it through the school year with decent grades, mostly B's with the exception of a few A's. Allistor would ruffle his hair and say that he was proud, although Arthur always felt he was just a nuisance. The year had gone by in a flash, albeit a happy one. He found himself smiling more, especially around Kiku. There was one moment where they had ended up kissing, and then that led to dating, and Arthur felt happy and loving properly for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Arthur had kissed Kiku goodbye for the holidays, and headed home for summer. He and Kiku had dates now and then throughout the season, and they exchanged kisses and 'I love you's'. It was pretty awesome, in Arthur's opinion. Because time flies when you're having fun, the holidays soon came to be ending, and Arthur grew apprehensive of the new year. He talked to Kiku on the phone about his worries, however, and was quickly calmed.

He stood at the gate to W. Academy, prepping for his second year. Ninth grade looked to be a good one. Arthur's year level cohort were directed to an undercover area behind the canteen this year, and he quickly found Kiku amongst the crowd. They did not kiss in public, as Kiku became very embarrassed very easily (and neither of them wished to be called faggots), but they did have a short embrace and a passing of smiles and smalltalk. Arthur didn't even look over the crowds this year, but if he had.. Oh, if he had.

This year, as Mr. Vargas was talking with the grade eights, they were present with a stone-faced man at the front of the crowd.

"Ninth-years," he greeted, voice cold and clean-cut. "Welcome back to last years' students, and welcome to new students."

Arthur and Kiku chatted in whispers through Mr. Beilschmidt's spiel, and sighed softly when he finished and names were being called to give out timetables. Kiku received his and the pair of them chattered over it, and then Arthur sat up straight and waited for the letter K to begin. He listed the students in his mind, knowing what order they would be in. But, where he anticipated his name being called, another was in his place.

"Alfred F. Jones?" the teacher in charge for this letter group called, and Arthur felt his blood run cold.

"Here, miss!" the corresponding boy piped up, grinning and standing up to collect his timetable. Arthur felt genuinely like he was going to be sick, and leaned over against Kiku.

"Is something wrong, Arthur-kun?" asked Kiku, using the endearing honorary with a little tilt of his head.

"Everything's wrong," he mumbled frightenedly, not getting up when his name was called. In his place, Kiku stood and shuffled over to the teacher to retrieve it. He gave it to the trembling Arthur, and embraced him hesitantly.

"I am here for you," Kiku stated, petting his boyfriend's back.

"I-.. I know.."

Arthur spent the first lesson, Creative Writing, sitting alone – Kiku did not take this class – and listening to the shtick the teacher rambled on about. He didn't really care to observe her, and his mind was elsewhere. Why was that wretch here now? Could he not just leave Arthur's life forever? He bit his lip and tried to concentrate. But no, that smirking face he had seen earlier today was etched deeply into his mind. To be honest with himself, he was scared shitless.

ahahah new fic! thats the introduction and setting and stuff done ahah. this one'll be angst and stuff. and teenage problems. and alfred being a total fuckass. and sparky lightning powers. im so excited.