ALFRED

The stadium becomes eerily quiet as Alfred and Arthur approach each other from opposite sides of the court.
Everyone's eyes are on them, knowing that serious shit is about to go down because both him and Arthur are considered pretty hard hitting opponents. To get both of them to battle each other? Well- this could make history.

To make things even more tense everyone knows about Alfred and Arthur's rivalry, knows they don't get along, so to be able to witness an actual fight between them is something new and amazing altogether.

An official in their white suit stands in the middle as they approach, motioning at the two to shake hands before he steps back to stand by the others.

Alfred looks up, eyes meeting Arthur's and the other is looking at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Though Alfred can see how stiff he is, something like worry behind his eyes and he wonders if it's part of Arthur's game, if he's trying to look vulnerable. Why would he though? Everyone knows Arthur is the least vulnerable when it comes to power.

When their palms connect to shake hands an electrical jolt runs through him, his hand almost jerking back. For a second he wonders if Arthur did it, but it doesn't hurt and the other boy flinches for a second too so he's just as confused.
What was that?

He shakes his head and ignores the swirling feeling in his stomach, returning his attention back to Arthur, regaining the teasing tone to his voice as he speaks, eyes bright.

"Good luck Arthur Kirkland. You'll need it." He smirks, and the other rolls his eyes.

"Good luck." He finally says, voice quiet and tone reserved as he pulls his hand away. Alfred chuckles, both of them turning to make their way to their positions. Alfred catches Nathan's eye, nodding in confidence at his friend and turning to face Arthur who's across the hall.

Usually whoever faces Arthur ends up on a stretcher in the end, most are scared before they even enter the battleground, knowing that in seconds they could be suffering crippling pain, crying for their parents and screaming against the soft padding of the floor.

Arthur actually rarely uses his pain manipulation though, Alfred noticed. He reserves it for the last moment, choosing to use his strong combat skills and mental manipulation until he absolutely has to resort to his pain manip. Everyone's required to use all of their powers when they battle so that the officials can properly judge skill levels, so it's not like Arthur can completely avoid using such a terrifying power.

Alfred's noticed that he just uses it the least instead.

Whatever. I'm not scared.

The countdown begins on the scoreboard, the crowd shouting last cheers for Alfred. Alfred's never once seen the crowd cheer for Arthur, most too shocked to even speak let alone support the guy. Alfred? Well, considering he's one of the most popular boy's at the institution he's used to a few cheers now and then.

He watches as the timer ticks down, the crowd growing silent. He takes his stance, ready to go, ready to finally get Arthur back for that day ten years ago.
Destroy him.

5

4

3

2

1

Bring it on.


Alfred makes the first move.

From watching Arthur's battles in the past he knows that the other always makes the second move, waits for his opponent to come to him.

And Alfred's going to do just that.

Let's see just how he handles this.

He raises his hand, mind clouding with concentration as he uses his reality warping to make the floor behind Arthur's feet begin to crumble. Arthur jumps, eyes wide as he moves forward to avoid the floor falling from beneath his feet.
Alfred grins, eyes intent as he watches the cracks follow Arthur. The audience lets out gasps and Arthur breaks into a run, heading straight towards Alfred with narrowed eyes.

Arthur swerves as some of the floor falls away in front of him, leading to a deep black hole beneath them.
Not so powerful now are you? He thinks, eyes on Arthur and a smirk on his face.

He uses his ability to project a series of vines from the hole behind Arthur to creep up and wrap around his ankle, send him sprawling to the floor hard.
Arthur let's out a grunt, face twisted in pain as he turns to pry the vine that isn't real from his ankle. The crowd is silent, eyes wide and completely engrossed in the battle, wondering if this is the time for Arthur's defeat.

"Come on Arthur, I thought you could fight?" Alfred jeers, heart racing in his chest and excitement building as he watches the other struggle as the vines begin to pull him back towards the hole where he'll fall. Officials are on standby and Alfred knows he's as good as won because the other hasn't even used his powers yet.

Behind Arthur, Alfred's eyes settle on his golden flag embroidered with an eye and three knives through it. The eye symbolizes his power of mental manipulation whereas the daggers symbolize his power of pain manipulation. It's a gruesome flag, something he finds hard to fit with someone as soft spoken as Arthur.

There's a brief second where Arthur looks like he'll fall, balancing for a moment that seems to last for forever but then he's righting himself and twisting to face him instead of the vines wrapped around his ankles.

That's when Alfred first feels something niggling and poking at his mind. He frowns, shaking his head as he feels Arthur working his way in there.

Anger rips through him because he hates the feeling, it feels so unwelcoming, like such an invasion of privacy as Arthur tugs on the strings of his mind and makes his concentration falter.
"Get out." He breathes, and Arthur just smiles.

He's still struggling against the weight of the vines pulling him back, but he's gripping onto the sides, eyes full of concentration aimed right at him.

No...

He flinches as he feels his concentration slip, agitation flaring. It's like something's blocking him, cutting off his thoughts and rendering him useless. He watches helplessly, head fuzzy as the vines and the cracks in the floor begin to fade, as the hole Arthur was seconds from falling into begins to rebuild itself, his power weakening. Shit. He swears under his breath, fists clenched. He can't even move, locked into place as Arthur fucking parades around his mind.

That's all it takes for Arthur to pick himself up, gaze narrow and full of fire as he makes his way towards Alfred- well, towards the flag. Alfred struggles, fumbling with the binds inside of his mind and tries to override Arthur's power. He can't form a solid thought or even begin to try to move and it's incredibly frustrating, his heart pounding hard against his rib cage. He's rooted to the spot.

Shit he's powerful.

The crowd is deathly silent on the edges of their seats.

When Arthur's close enough it seems like he suddenly releases his hold over Alfred, a huge weight lifting off from inside his mind and Alfred realizes that it's because Arthur can only shut down people's minds for a brief period of time. He looks mentally exhausted but he still makes his way over with weighed down steps towards the flag behind Alfred.
Alfred grits his teeth, limbs heavy as he shakes himself.

I refuse to lose this.

He uses the opportunity of Arthur's power wearing off to suddenly launch forward at the other, to aim a punch in Arthur's stomach because he feels way too mentally drained to use his power again. Before the other can even react, Alfred is on top of him, heart thrumming in his chest and grip strong as he pushes Arthur down, trying to summon some of his power.

Arthur lets out another grunt of pain as he hits the floor, writhing against Alfred as he's pinned down, eyes blazing.

"Face it Arthur, I'm stronger." Alfred breathes, veins pulsing as he concentrates, ignoring the crowd around them as he imagines vines bursting from the floor like earlier, wrapping around Arthur's wrists so he can race for the flag fluttering behind the other. When he opens his eyes he sees the green restraints approaching and Arthur begins to struggle, eyes on the vines.

"Don't want to talk?" Alfred asks, a jeering note to his voice as he laughs, eyes meeting Arthur's. His hands tighten around him and he glares at the other. He ignores the weird fluttering in his chest as his hands continue to wrap around Arthur's wrists.
I just need to tie him down then get the flag.
Arthur glares, fighting against his grip as the vines creep towards him. Alfred's about to laugh again, ready to see his name highlighted as the winner at long last when Arthur drives his knee up and hits him in the stomach.

Alfred yells in pain, grip loosening on Arthur's wrists and it's just enough for the boy to wrap his legs around Alfred's waist and pull, rolling himself so they're positions are reversed, Arthur on top.

"Stop underestimating me Alfie." Arthur smirks, eyes bright as he leans into Alfred, fingertips grazing across his jawline gently. Alfred's breath catches in his throat, confused, but then Arthur touches a finger to his temple and pain bursts through his head.
Shit. He immediately stops struggling, shock running through his system.

It isn't an unbearable pain, but it's enough to distract him and leave him shocked as Arthur scrambles off of him, breaking into a run towards the flag before Alfred can even react. Alfred shouts, ignoring the stupid warm feeling on his face as he pushes himself up and races after the other, blood speeding through his veins and pain spiking through his head.

I can't let you win.

He watches as Arthur nears the flag, annoyance flaring in his chest. This can't be happening- I can't let Arthur Kirkland win again.

But as it happens, Arthur Kirkland doesn't win.

Neither of them do.

He watches, and it's almost like it's in slow motion as a loud cracking noise sounds from the stands. There are several gasps as something small and glinting streams through the air, connecting straight with the back of Arthur's neck.

Whoa.

Alfred watches wide eyed as Arthur jerks, collapsing to the floor, the dart buried deep in his neck. The pain buzzing through his head immediately stops as the boy crumples to the ground, body beginning to convulse.
The crowd begins to panic, people looking around with shocked expressions and wide eyes. Whistles are suddenly being blown, officials storming the battle ground and the crowd as they hook arms around what looks like two seniors from the stands.

All Alfred can do is look in shock as his rival cries out, skin turning pale and body jerking as officials flit around him. Alfred's sure he hears someone murmur "poison" and something flips in his stomach.

"Arthur!" Allister is back from the infirmary, eyes wide with fear as he yells his best friends name. He pushes past loads of people, rushing towards the other whilst clutching at his bandaged arm.

Alfred picks himself up, standing in the middle of the battleground in confusion as Arthur's placed onto a stretcher and carried away. For a second, a brief second, they lock eyes and Alfred's heart beats hard against his chest.

Arthur's expression is one of pain, but his eyes are almost calm, focused on Alfred, almost trying to tell him something.

But then he's looking away, the spell broken and the officials rush him out of the room.

Alfred looks up, eyes meeting Nathan's across the ground and the others look just as shocked.

What the hell just happened?


"Poison dart, nasty thing it was. Nearly killed the kid." A gruff voice says.

"A couple of seniors were caught with the dart gun." Another says, shaking his head. Alfred leans closer against the door, looking through the open slit in the sides as the officials sit around the table looking no less than exhausted.
It's way past 10 PM now, students already being sent to bed. Ever since the battles earlier a sense of coldness had settled over the school, many both confused and fearful of what had happened. Alfred didn't blame them, he was still shaken up himself, not that he'd admit it though. Gilbert's crouching underneath him, fully recovered from his own dose of poison as they both listen intently.

"Why would they do it?"

The other official sighs, removing his white gloves so he can pick up his tea.

"They're scared of the kid. I don't blame em'."

The other official, a guy with blonde hair shakes his head. "They're not scared of him. They're scared of his power. That kid is harmless, he works part time in the library here for christ's sake."

"Whatever." The other says, "Either way they want him out of here. Either that or dead."

There's a moment of silence and then the blonde guy speaks up again. "It's a good thing he's friends with the poison manipulator. One dose of that was enough to nearly kill him."

"Know what the worst part of it is?" The other says, tone solemn. Alfred bites his lip, straining to hear.

"What?" Blonde guy asks.

"They weren't even finished." The man says, voice low. "They had another dart loaded."

"Shit." There's another sigh, and then blonde guy speaks again. "Those seniors are strong science students though, they know this stuff like the back of their hand which means-"

"Which means it wasn't a miscalculation of poison dosage." The mans voice is strained now, and Alfred's heart jumps in his chest.

"They meant to kill Arthur Kirkland."


"Shit." Gilbert breathes as soon as they enter their room, both flopping down onto their beds. Gilbert's still pale from his injuries and he looks exhausted, but Alfred can see the genuine concern in his eyes and he's sure he mirrors it.
People interrupting battles isn't unheard of, but there hasn't been a case in over twenty years, especially not one of this scale.

"They wanted to kill him." Gilbert shakes his head.

Alfred bites his lip, unsure of how to feel. Arthur is his rival of course, but why is he so goddamn angry that he was hurt?
It's not because it's Arthur. I'd be angry if it was anyone, someone tried to kill him for christ's sake.

And it's true, he'd be angry no matter who the target was because who the hell tries to kill someone like that?

But that still doesn't explain the flips his stomach does when he wonders if Arthur's okay.

He looks up, noting the worried expression on Gilbert's face and can't help but wonder why the other looks so worried. After all, he's one of Arthur's many teasers too, always has been.
Though ever since they were kids, he's caught the worried glances Gilbert always threw at the other quiet boy when he was being teased, the way he always looked a little pained when teasing Arthur himself, as though it was all halfhearted.

Could they have been friends at some point?

"Whats up with you?" He asks Gilbert, eyes meeting his. Gilbert jumps, deep in thought and sighs, shaking his head.

"It's nothing."

"Gilbert.."

The other boy sighs deeper this time. "I don't know it's just- I get people act out at him because they're scared of him, but trying to kill him? That's... too much."

Alfred breathes out, nodding at his friend. "Yeah."

"Arthur... he's not a bad guy. We tease him all the time but he never acts out against us, he just sits there with his stupid books all the time then some guys try to fucking kill him-"

"Dude. I know." Alfred interrupts because he can feel how worked up Gilbert's getting and he doesn't want him making his exhaustion or injuries worse.

"Get some sleep ok?" He finally says, moving to turn the light off. He lies down, staring up at the ceiling as he tries to collect himself. It's the first battle he hasn't won and of course it has to be against his rival.

But instead of really thinking about his loss his mind instead runs back to the moment he'd been on the floor pinned beneath Arthur and the way the other had lightly traced his cheek, leaving a trail of warmth behind his touch.
The touch had felt like an apology for what he was about to do next, and Alfred's heart clenches in his chest as he thinks about it.

Arthur hadn't used his pain manipulation at full force, he'd used nowhere near it.
He went easy on me.

It was evident Arthur hated using his Pain manip, but to look at Alfred with an apology on his face and warm gentle hands against his skin before, made Alfred wonder why everyone actually hated the boy so much.

It made him wonder why he hated the boy so much. Or did he? Was it just rivalry? Nothing more?

But what else could explain the fire in his chest and the harsh beating of his heart when he came face to face with the other?

He sighs, rolling over in bed and closing his eyes.

Whatever, It doesn't matter anyway. we're still rivals and I'll win. I just have to wait for the right moment.