"Gilbert... Are you okay?" Matthieu asked, softly rapping on the door. The door pulls open and Matthieu jumps back to avoid falling, Gilbert groans and shudders. Taking pity on the albino, Matthieu grabs his arm and leads him to the counter again.

"What happened?" Matthieu asked once he was sure Gilbert was seated.

"My Brûder hates violence, he gets sick at the first sigh of it. He has a weak stomach, he gets sick at the sight of blood, or so much the mention of it, too." Ludwig explains, handing Gilbert a glass of water.

"Oh, that horrible!" Matthieu says softly, covering his mouth with his small hands.

Bbbbbrrrrrrriiinnnngg.

The stores bell chimed as it opens, and a tall, oddly grey haired man enters the store. "Привет." He says in Russian before speaking English, "Hello Gilbert, Ludwig, how are you?" He asked, his voice thick with a Russian accent.

"Hallö, Ivan. How's the planning going?" Ludwig asks, with obviously forced kindness.

"Good, da! The hockey team will start this season, Ivan is captain again. You going to join, da?" Ivan asks, smiling.

Matthieu looks at Ivan, "you have a hockey team? Is it for a school or is it for sport?"

"Ah! It is for school! Everyone here goes to Midwestern. What is your name?" He asks, looking at Matthieu.

"Matthieu. I go to Midwestern too, I just signed up. Is it possible to join the hockey team?"

"Matvey. Da! Da! You can joins Ivan's team! First meet tomorrow. Don't be late." Ivan says smiling, before exiting. The last part seemed to be a threat, but Matthieu was too busy mentally cheering that he found a hockey team to noticed.

"Don't, Mattie." Gilbert warned, gaining Matthieu's attention.

"Why?" Matthieu asks, looking at the grey haired, blue eyed boy.

"All that commie wants is someone else to dictate over, just ask his team, no one wants to be on it. They're all Ivan's pawns, and if he says jump, they have no other choice but to jump. Don't trust Ivan Braginski, Matthieu."

That warning kept Matthieu up all night. He normally listens to people when they warn him about someone, but Matthieu just enjoys hockey, and that means he has to jump for Ivan, he would. He uses his voodoo powers to his advantage in hockey, it's not technically against the rules, since there's no rule against mutants using their natural-born-ability against the other team.

Especially since no one knows what he can do. It's full prof!

The morning came around faster that a speeding bullet, and Matthieu managed to get a few hours of sleep. Although it wasn't peaceful, it was sleep. And if he was going to meet Ivan and the team today, he had to have some energy. Getting up, he put on the horrifyingly awful school uniform, one that had the boys wearing black slacks, a black and white striped shirt, and a blue, black and white tail coat jacket that went to his knees, then squared off. It looks like a copy of The Irregular at Magic High School uniform, without the weed or bloom emblem.

He pulls out the ingredients needed to make pancakes, mixing the batter as he listened to the news from the TV. "The Red Demon has been spotted running across the building tops as he chases after the suspect, the man accused of murdering Lillian Kirkland, sister to Arthur Kirkland, employee at The Beilschmidt Industries."

Matthieu looks at the TV, a man in solid red, from head to toe was on footage. He looked like Kirito from Sword Art Online, but instead of black, he's all red. Even his eyes, which are surrounded by a white mask. The red makes his skin look like snow, but the white dulls it down a bit.

Pouring the batter on the pan, he hears his brothers door swing open, "I smell pancakes!"

Alfred says, and Matthieu looks back at him.

"Hot and ready to go."

"Dude, you always make the best pancakes in the whole world!" Alfred says, sitting at the table as Matthieu sets them down in front of him. Taking a bit full, he looks up at the TV and says with his mouth full, "woah dude! There's a superhero too! Man this city has everything! Oh oh oh oh oh oh!" He starts bouncing up and down in his seat, swallowing, he looks at Matthieu, "dude! What if we became superheroes! Bro, we'd have so many fans! I've always wanted to be the hero!"

"No!" Matthieu whisper-yells, slamming down a glass of juice. "If you blow our cover, we'll have to move again because they'll find us. Besides what good would I do? I mean, I'm not like the Golden Canary or Arrow. This isn't a DC or Marvel Comic book. We are humans, not superhumans."

Alfred pouts, glaring at his brother. "Kill joy. Remember who it was last time who blew our cover? You and your stupid boyfriends."

Matthieu whips around and stares at him, his hand clenching. "Francis was forced too! If DaJaDoom hadn't put a bomb collar on him, he might've never had to give us up!"

Alfred stands up, slams his hands down on the table, causing the juice to fall over. "You're too trusting! You trust everyone! Even those you know you shouldn't!" Alfred screams, Matthieu thinks of something to say back, but he couldn't, he groans, grabbing his bag and walking out of the apartment. Slamming the door shut and scrambling down the stairs. Slinging his backpack on, he didn't bother to look both ways as he crossed the street.

"Matthieu!" He heard Alfred scream, he turns to glare at his brother just in time to see a car slam on its brakes. He froze as the car skid to a stop, centimetres from his knees. The driver was staring wide eyed at him, shocked. Three guys got out, and one says, "mi amigo, you okay?"

Matthieu slowly nods, not certain if he's okay or not yet. It's a defect he has, anytime he gets closed to being hurt, he freezes up.

Alfred runs to Matthieu, patting his brother down to check for any injuries. "Mi amigo, why did you-"

"You idiots! You could've killed yourself!" Another boy says, his brown eyes glaring at Matthieu while he flails his arms around wildly. The other boy looked just like the second one, but with lighter hair, and he had tears forming in his eyes. The third and second boys both had odd pieces of hair sticking out, on opposite sides of their heads, they looked like twins.

"Fratello! Be nice! Are you okay?" The crying one ask, his voice laced with a delicate Italian accent.

"O-oui..." Matthieu asks, nodding.

"Oi, you in Midwestern High?" The first one asks, smiling.

"Yes," Alfred says, his heart rate returning to normal.

"Awesome! We'll give you a ride! I'm Antonio, the hothead is Lovino, and the other one is Feliciano. Come on mi amigos!" Antonio says, leading them back to the car. They climb in the back with no objections or comments, Alfred whacks Matthieu's arm, only to feel the pain in his arm.

"Next time, watch the road, dumbass." Alfred says, sighing.

Matthieu nods, but he knows that if something like that happens again, he won't be that lucky.