Hey, sorry. This was supposed to be out yesterday.

To be honest, I completely forgot. So please remind me. I have a really busy schedule, but I desperately want to finish this story-and in a timely manner, mind you.

Chapter 2: Meeting You For the First Time, Again

Feliciano grinned as he made his way across his new campus. A few years ago, the idea of a boarding school would have been terrifying to the Italian; it still was, but not nearly as frightening as before. With his newfound brother at his side, being away from his parents for such a long time didn't seem as daunting, in fact, it was kind of exciting. Everything from the clusters of students forming around him to the freshly cut grass appealed to the brunet.

Lovino pulled Feliciano from his thoughts with a nudge of his elbow. "I'll take the bags. Meet me at our room after getting us maps of this place." He eyed the large courtyard, taking one of the two keys to the dorm from his pocket to hand to his brother. "It's fucking huge and you're delirious if you think I'm going to be spending my days finding you every time you get lost." Feliciano exchanged his duffel bag and pet bunny for the key, taking special care not to shift his pet too much. With a cheery smile of gratitude, he thanked his brother who merely rolled his cocoa eyes and made off towards the freshman dorms.

Alone, Feliciano took a moment to observe his environment. Students littered the grass-all of them appeared to be either introducing themselves or re-encountering old friends. A smile crept up his face as the Italian decided he was going to like it here. The environment was friendly and the classes seemed promising. While he was going to miss his parents, he knew the high brick walls of this school would soon become a second home to him.

He put his hands in his pockets and headed towards the largest building he could see. It seemed like a good enough idea, especially since the stone pathway led to the edifice's entrance. In the end, his intuition proved right. A few minutes later, the brunet was heading back down the path with two maps folded in his back pocket. He twirled his room key in between his finger, enjoying his walk over to his brother; yet, he stopped abruptly when something caught his interest. Out of the corner of his eyes, Feliciano noticed a blond teen lecturing an albino. The Italian's heart all but leaped out of his chest. Shoving the key in his front pocket, he hastily made his way over to the male with the German accent. The closer he got, the clearer the teen's features seemed and the brunet's excitement increased with every step. By the time he was a couple of feet away from the person who might be his long-lost friend, he was positive that the boy in front of him was the one he had been searching for. The German's face had matured some: his face had rid itself of baby fat; his jaw was solid and definitely more defined; and his wide blue eyes that Italian had grown to love were now squinted a little bit more but Feliciano could tell that it was definitely him. One word screamed through his mind continuously: Ludwig.

All the while he was walking towards his childhood friend, his speed increased. By the time he reached Ludwig, he was running. Overjoyed, the Italian captured the blond in a hug from the side. He had spent countless hours imagining what he would do when they met again, but nothing could prepare him for the happiness he felt at that moment in time. His smile reached from ear to ear and tears of joy were forming at the corner of his eyes.

Ludwig, on the other hand, was having a completely different reaction. He was in the middle of a conversation with his brother about the older teen's overuse of the word awesome when a strange Italian basically tackled him. He was trapped in an awkward hug by some person whom he decided was psychotic. None of his morning training could have prepared him for a situation as this. He made a mental note to begin his martial arts studies this year.

Feliciano pulled back to look at his friend only to notice his feelings weren't reciprocated. Confusion was written all over the German's face. The Italian had to blink to make sure his eyes weren't playing a trick on him; sadly, that wasn't the case. He understood that it had been a few years, but there wasn't the slightest sign of recognition in the blond's eyes. Crestfallen, he let his hands fall from the teen's shoulders. Maybe he was mistaken.

After the uncomfortable silence, Ludwig decided to speak. Seeing as his brother had long since snuck away, he decided to use this time to lecture the stranger on proper manners.

"Who gave you the right to hug me?" the German demanded, slightly angered at the unnecessary physical contact.

"I uh…" Feliciano shook off his dejection, and smiled his famous, cheery smile. He had to come up with an excuse quickly. Glancing down, he noticed the teen's ID attached to the top of his jeans: Ludwig Beilschmidt. "Hi! I'm Feliciano." He tilted his head slightly, incredibly puzzled as to why the German in front of him had no recollection of him.

"Ludwig," the blond stated plainly. "Who gave you the right to hug me?"

"You looked like you could use a hug!" the Italian explained enthusiastically.

Caught off guard by the teen's lively answer, the German almost accepted the explanation, before returning to his senses. "You cannot simply hug strangers," Ludwig rationalized.

"But you needed one!" Feliciano protested.

In a mix of disbelief and annoyance, the blond pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. He could already tell this was going to be a long and arduous conversation… "You have no right to judge the necessity of a hug for others."

The brunet shook his head. "Some people don't know when they need a hug."

"Then that is for them to figure out!"

"I don't want to fight," the Italian decided. He brought his right hand up to his chin as if in contemplation. "How about we just be friends instead?"

Bewildered, the German stared at the other teen momentarily. "That's not how you make friends. You have to learn to respect the personal space of others. Some people dislike physical contact and therefore should not be subject to it because of another person's whims."

The Italian nodded as if he was taking it all in. "So, is that a yes?" Whether or not Ludwig remembered him, they were going to be together Feliciano decided. If that meant starting all over, so be it.

This brunet was something special, because Ludwig had never been taken aback this many times in a single conversation. "Um…" He honestly didn't know how to answer. When he was younger, he hadn't had friends. No one would put up with his ridiculous training regiment, not that it bothered him-they would only slow him down. "Why do you want to be my friend?"

Feliciano smiled joyfully, knowing the question was a sign of consideration. "Because you're so nice to me. Instead of getting mad at me, you explained why it was wrong to hug strangers! I think we would be great friends!"

"I've never had a friend before…" The Italian inwardly cringed at the German's words. "I would most likely treat you badly…"

"You could never!" the brunet protested.

"How can you say that? You have no evidence and are therefore spouting lies," the blond asserted, staring down his new friend.

"I can say that because…" Feliciano stopped himself. Clearly Ludwig doesn't remember the past they had shared. "Because I am an excellent judge of character. You love to follow the rules, right? Well, there are rules to friendship. I'll teach you them."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "There is a rule book?"

"No. Not a rulebook per se, but there are rules. They're just unwritten," the Italian explained.

"Ahh, so I should take notes?"

"Ugh… mental notes, sure."

The blond nodded. "Very well then." He stuck his hand out to be shaken.

"Rule number one: friends hug friends," the brunet stated just before pulling the German into another hug.

Visibly uncomfortable, Ludwig stood with his hand awkwardly in the air, unsure what to do with them, so he simply waited until the Italian was finished with whatever he was trying to accomplish.

"See you around," Feliciano smiled, finally pulling away.

"I too hope that the wind carries you safely through all of life's journeys."

The Italian chuckled to himself. He had forgotten how serious the German sounded when said good bye. With a smile, he waved adios to his new friend and skipped off in the direction of the dorms. He couldn't understand why Ludwig didn't remember him. Everyone always told him he was a spitting image of his younger self-well, without the dresses.

Feliciano had to take out his key for a moment to check the number of his room, not wanting to get lost. It only took his attention for a few seconds, but apparently that was enough time for him to bump into somebody accidentally, sending the Italian's key to the floor.

"Scheibe. I'm so sorry," a heavy German accent apologized.

"No, it's my fault." The brunet picked up his key and then looked up to the familiar looking albino in front of him. "Gilbert?"

"Oh, hey. Feliciano right?"

The Italian nodded slowly, grateful that someone remembered him.

"Weren't you like best buds with my brother when you two were kids?" the German asked, not quite sure himself.

"Yeah… I ran into him today. You were there," the brunet agreed, trying to engage the albino in conversation. He didn't want to simply start off by bombarding Gilbert with questions about his brother; fairly certain that it would make him appear like a stalker.

"I knew it. The awesome me never forgets a face. Oh, and thanks for the save. You know how much of a prude he can be about rules."

Agreeing, Feliciano nodded again. Apparently, that seemed like the end of the conversation to the German, because he had started to turn around. Not wanting to let Gilbert leave just yet, the brunet asked him a question. "Can you believe that he doesn't remember me?" Feliciano chuckled.

"Meh, I guess that why I'm the awesome one in the family," the albino boasted, adjusting his uniform tie.

"Yeah… I suppose it was a long time ago…"

"Mhmm, you guys were like seven or whatever," he agreed, before remembering something. "Oh mein Gott, I spaced for a bit. Ludwig got amnesia a few years back. He got like this crazy concussion and was in a comma for like an entire day, but like forgot everything from his past. All he remembered was how to speak. It was scary," the German explained.

"Oh, that sounds awful."

"Ja," he seconded, nodding. "But I mean, he only forgot his younger years, which he was bound to forget anyways. In the grand scheme of things, he got off pretty lucky."

"Yeah… I barely remember being that young now," Feliciano asserted half-heartedly. He sighed, for a moment forgetting he was talking to someone.

"Exactly," Gilbert continued, drawing attention back to himself. "And if anything, you should be happy he doesn't remember you. When you were little, you always dressed like a girl, remember?"

The brunet laughed uneasily. "I could never work the buttons on pants," the Italian added meekly.

"Whatever, it was super embarrassing. Did you know he thought you were a girl?" Feliciano raised an eyebrow. "I never had the heart to tell him otherwise, because I didn't want him laugh at you or anything, but it was hilarious."

"So funny…"

"Listen, I gotta meet up with some of my friends, but if you ever need anything, don't be a stranger," the albino stated, before taking his leave.

Feliciano waved at the German, until he was out of sight, not sure how to process what he had just heard. Ludwig had absolutely no recollection of him, and the Italian didn't even know if the blond was gay or not. Curse him and his inability to work the fly on his pants as a child!

The brunet took a deep breath in an effort to clear his mind. Trying to think about what to do next, he ran his fingers through his hair, careful not to disrupt the stray curl on the side of his head. If he got the German to fall for him once, he could certainly do it again, couldn't he?

Definitely, the teen decided. Similar to what he had determined earlier, he would make the blond his, whether he remembered him or not. All he had to do is be the same overly optimistic ball of energy he was in his younger days. Hell, it worked before. Certainly it would have the same outcome now. If anything, maybe it would jog his memory!

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I want to get the next chapter out in two weeks time, wish me luck! :)