A/N: August 25th is Belarus' National Day, so I'm just saying that's Natalia's birthday, okay?
December 6th
Ivan's guesses were fueled with logic, like many things he did. He first suspected Gilbert had told Natalia Arlovskaya, Ivan's not-so-secret (obnoxious) admirer, but then he concluded that, had Gilbert told Natalia, Natalia would probably refuse to share his secret on Christmas. She wouldn't want to see her love's life in ruins, would she?
His next guess was Katyusha Braginskaya, the Ukrainian who was a grade above him in school. But Katyusha would be leaving for college in a semester, and she probably had better things to do than deal with petty eleventh-grade underclassmen drama. Ivan had to remind himself that it wasn't just petty drama—someone was dead.
No one was really that excited to go back to Starbucks, so Antonio offered up his house as the Saturday meeting spot. Ivan hoped he had the address right and pulled into the driveway; he had borrowed his mother's car, as Antonio lived too far to walk.
Antonio was waiting in the kitchen. He greeted people as they came in, offered them something to eat and drink, made sure everyone was comfortable. It was somewhat awkward—he wasn't very close with these people, except Francis—but he was a great host.
"Let's get started," Elizaveta said, taking a sip of water. "Um. Who wants to go first?"
"I had a theory," Francis offered. "Gilbert would tell people who have something against us. Like someone you got in a fight with, and so on." He paused. "Though it could not have been too serious a fight, because if we find our secret-keeper, they have to keep our secret a secret. That's what Gilbert said, after all."
"That makes sense," Mathias replied. "My guess is that my secret-keeper is Lukas Bondevik or Berwald Oxenstierna."
"I think mine is Natalia Arlovskaya," Arthur finally said, and everyone turned to look at him.
Ivan blinked in surprise. "Natalia? Why?"
Arthur laughed sheepishly. "I... she hates me."
"She hates everyone," Alfred said. "Minus Ivan."
"That's true," Arthur said, "But, you see, right before Gilbert's funeral... she asked me to be her boyfriend."
There was stunned silence in the room, and Elizaveta finally said, "Are you joking? She asked you that? You?"
"Oh, great, what's that supposed to mean?" Arthur grunted.
Elizaveta blushed. "I mean, I thought she was only interested in Ivan. But if what you're saying is true, then there's probably a chance she's your secret-keeper."
Alfred laughed. "You all go about this the wrong way. Why don't we just read her emails and see if she talks about Arthur's secret at all?"
"You can't just read someone's emails," snorted Arthur. "We don't know how to read them."
"You mean you can't read, Iggy?" Alfred asked, much too innocently.
"No, you bloody git! I mean, we don't know how to get into her damn email account, obviously."
"Ha! You freaking losers! Antonio, where's your computer?" Alfred laughed.
Antonio and Francis exchanged confused looks, until the former stood up and said, "I'll go get my laptop, I guess."
Alfred brought up Gmail and typed in Natalia's email (with the help of Ivan) and squinted at the screen for a second.
"This is idiotic. You're not going to be able to read anything without a password!" Arthur snapped. "Or do you intend to just stare at the screen all day?"
"Shut up," Alfred said. "Okay. Hmm. Ivan..." He typed that into the password bar. "She's probably got her birthday in there, too. When's her birthday? It's August twenty-fifth? Okay. Knowing her, she put one other detail in there, too. Belarus? No, no..." Alfred was muttering to himself while the others stared on in fascination. "Give me a few minutes, okay?"
Matthew's face paled while Alfred worked on Natalia's password. "If Gilbert emailed Natalia about Arthur's secret, you know what that means?"
"That she's his secret-keeper?" snorted Mathias from across the table.
"No. Well, yes, but also, it means that Natalia knew Gilbert was going to kill himself and didn't do anything about it. And what does that say about her, really?" The Canadian bit his lip nervously, wondering if the group would agree.
"I mean, we already knew she was a psycho bitch," Mathias murmured. "But that's true. Very true."
"I got in!" Alfred laughed. "Finally. Password was 'Ivan25knife'..."
"Bloody hell," Arthur whispered. "That was... amazing, actually."
"How the heck did you do that?" Mathias exclaimed, his eyes wide. "Fascinating. Really."
"I'll search her Outbox; see if she ever emailed Gilbert," Alfred said, scrolling down, typing something into a Search Bar. "Wow, Ivan, she sure emails you a lot."
Ivan chuckled. "And I never respond."
"How rude. Just kidding. Oh, hey, I found something—Beilschmidt—wait, that's from Ludwig." Alfred was scrolling furiously, tapping the keys with such vigor that the others in the room could practically hear the wheels turning in his (smarter than they thought) brain. "I found an email from Gilbert!" Alfred called triumphantly. Antonio, who was sitting to the right of the American, raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Yeah. It's titled 'Secrets'. Okay, I'll open the original email from Gilbert." Alfred paused, scanning over the email, and—
"What?" demanded Arthur.
Alfred slammed the laptop shut, looking nauseous. "N-nothing. It's nothing. I'm going home. I'll see you guys later, okay? Bye."
The room was silent. "What just happened?" Francis laughed nervously once everyone heard the front door crashing shut. Antonio opened his laptop, typed in his password, and looked over the email. His green eyes widened. "Oh my. Turns out Natalia is a secret-keeper, but not of Arthur's secret... of Alfred's."
Arthur tilted his head to one side, his eyebrows furrowed. "What?" he asked again.
"What is the secret?" Matthew asked quietly, adjusting his glasses.
"Well," Antonio said. "It seems our friend Alfred is gay."
Alfred was fuming. He got into his car as fast as humanly possible and sped away, tears blurring his vision. Tears of rage, to be precise. How dare Gilbert threaten to even tell anyone that secret? Alfred knew he was being shallow, but all he could think was: If anyone finds out, my reputation is shot. Fuck you, Gilbert! I never should have told you.
Oh, sure, his close friends would accept him, he knew, and he was grateful for that. And he knew that nowadays, being gay was becoming less and less uncommon, and part of society wouldn't mind. But his parents... his parents were what you would call 'slightly homophobic.' Slightly times ten.
Alfred had trusted Gilbert. What a mistake. Ugh. The only thought that calmed him was the knowledge that all he had to do was confront Natalia about this... incident, and his secret would go with her to the grave. Hopefully. But the other members of The Confidants' Club—they probably all knew now, and they weren't under any vows of silence. Alfred only wished they would treat him courteously and keep their mouths shut. Because if they didn't, well. Things were going to get ugly—with him, with them, with his parents.
But, dear readers, I suppose such is life.
