Chapter 2: Heracles' POV

I sighed and lifted my backpack a little higher on my shoulder. I just wanted to find my class and take a nap before school started. Unfortunately, it was my first day of freshman year in high school, and unlike everyone else, who had been living in that tiny little town in the middle of nowhere since they were born, I didn't know the place like the back of my hand. I had moved there from Greece halfway through the year before. Luckily, I had already been fluent in English, so there wasn't as much of a language barrier. Honestly, I liked it there, and people weren't assholes to me even though I was foreign. Then again, I was pretty sure there was only one American family even though we were in the U.S.

But, since I didn't know the town very well, I had never been inside the high school and had absolutely zero idea where my classes were.

I paused and looked around for a moment. There were a few vaguely familiar faces, but I didn't see anyone I knew well enough to ask for help from. I could've gone to find my boyfriends, Sadiq Adnan, but I was seeing more of him than was healthy, anyway, and he'd probably use it as a 'favor' that he'd make me repay later.

My eyes were drawn to the open door of the classroom across the hall from me. There were three people just inside the doorway: Francis Bonnefoy, a blonde French kid who had an annoying habit of hitting on anything that moved, and Ivan Braginski, an overly cheerful Russian who scared the living hell out of everyone due to his tendency to get violent in the blink of an eye. They had cornered a small, Japanese-looking boy and were laughing as he cowered away from them. He looked resigned, his eyes emotionless despite the pain I knew he had to be in, since Ivan kept kicking him in the ribs. It looked like it happened regularly to him.

If there was one thing I couldn't stand, as lazy and general apathetic toward the world as I usually was, it was bullies. People who used their social status or strength of power to hurt those who were smaller, weaker, poorer, than themselves. I didn't care that I didn't know him, but the Japanese kid wasn't standing up for himself, so I'd do it for him. I couldn't let him get hurt. I squared my shoulders and pushed away my fear of Ivan, marching determinedly across the hall and into the classroom.

Both Ivan and Francis tuned to look at me, but the smaller one on the floor just hung his head and curled in on himself, trying to make himself a smaller target. Was he… ashamed? Scared? Whatever it was, it was confirmation that that was what he knew as 'normal,' and that pissed me off.

I calmly walked between him and the two sophomores, blocking him from them. They looked surprised, and the Russian's smile faltered. My courage wavered for a moment; if Ivan stopped smiling that would definitely mean a trip to the hospital for me.

But they're hurting someone else. I reminded myself, steeling my nerves.

"Heracles, what are you doing?" Ivan's overly cheerful voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Keeping you from beating this guy to a pulp," I kept my voice nonchalant, almost uncaring, but let some of my anger show through.

Francis' eyes widened slightly with incredulousness and Ivan's smile dropped a bit.

"What do you mean, mon am? We're simply welcoming him back to school." Said Francis, his thick French accent almost suffocating his words.

"Then you should be done by now, right? It's just a simple greeting, after all." I heard a soft noise from behind me, almost like a laugh. Luckily for him, neither Francis nor Ivan seemed to have noticed.

On the other hand, the Russian had stopped smiling completely, a deadly glint in his violet eyes. Shit. He took a step toward me, but then a boy with wheat blonde hair, a cowlick, blue eyes, and glasses bounced energetically into the room, a McDonald's burger clutched in one hand. I vaguely recognized him as Alfred Jones, the singular American student in the school.

"Ivan, come on! You promised you'd get to class on time this year." Whined Alfred.

Ivan's sunny smile was back, and it seemed a bit warmer than when it was directed at anyone else. "Da. I was just on my way, Fredka."

Ivan happily trotted out after the American, Francis sighing in annoyance before following them. I turned around and knelt in front of the Japanese boy, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched at my touch, looking up at me with wide eyes. The fear in his gaze faded after a moment when he realized I wasn't Ivan or Francis. He was still obviously weary of me, though.

"Are you alright?" I let my worry for him show in my voice, but it had gotten as quiet as it usually was, barely louder than a whisper. I didn't like using the extra effort it took to raise my voice louder than that. Talking that loud just made me more tired than usual.

He nodded, his eyes still wide as he stared up at me. It was then that I realized how cute he was, with his pale skin, porcelain features, and almost feminine physique. Even so, I couldn't help but notice how he leaned away from me slightly, how there were still traces of fear in his gaze.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." I said softly.

He only sighed and nodded again. I could only wonder how many people had told him that before, only to go against their word later, when they got tired of keeping their promise. Despite having only just met him, I had the odd urge to protect him at all costs. He just seemed so… scared, weak, fragile. So very out of place in the world, like a single flower still blooming among the dull greys of the aftermath of a forest fire.

I mentally slapped myself for that. I had just met him, for God's sake. Not okay to start having philosophical thoughts about him, no matter how beautiful he was.

"You're Heracles-san, right?" his voice, soft and tinged with a lilting, musical accent, as well as the honorific he added to my name, confirmed the fact that he was Japanese, at least in part.

I nodded in response to his question. "Yes, my name is Heracles Karpusi. What's yours?"

He looked surprised, like he hadn't expected me to care, much less actually ask. "Kiku. My name is Kiku Honda."

I smiled softly; somehow that name fit him. I didn't know what it meant, but it sounded soft and gentle, like I figured he was. I stood up and offered him my hand.

"Why don't we get off the floor then, Kiku? Probably wouldn't be the best if you were late on the first day."

He hesitantly took my hand, using it to bring himself to his feet. He wobbled for a moment before steadying, leaning heavily on one foot even though he was obviously tried to hide it. I wondered if those bastards had hurt his leg. I couldn't help but notice that he was trembling slightly, probably from the shock of the situation from before starting to kick in.

"What about you, Heracles-san? Don't you need to get to class, too?" He sounded slightly frantic, like he was worried that I'd get in trouble because of him.

I smiled sheepishly. "I don't know where my classes even are. I moved here from Greece less than a year ago, so I don't know my way around quite yet."

Kiku looked mildly surprised, like he hadn't heard I'd moved there. Then again, with the way people seemed to treat him around there, he probably wasn't exactly hearing all that much gossip, even if it was a tiny town.

"Ah. I'll show you, then, at least until you remember where they are. I-if that's alright, that is." His voice wavered and he looked down, like he was afraid of my reaction.

Instead of whatever he was expecting, I smiled gratefully and pulled the folded piece of paper with my schedule printed on it from my back pocket, holding it out to him. "Thanks, Kiku. I'd like that, if it's not too much trouble for you."

He shook his head, almost smiling, and gently took it from me. He unfolded it and his eyes widened as read it once, twice. He slowly lowered it, and I could've sworn that he was blushing at least a little bit as he looked back up at me.

"Looks like it'll be easy, then. You have the same schedule as I do."