While Ivan didn't mind support group, the others didn't seem to enjoy it as much. They didn't want to face their issues head on, no one did. But that was the point of support group; they were meant to discuss how they felt, and their leaders were meant to guide them.
Most of the time, there was complete silence, everyone waiting for someone to say something to break it. And when no one did, it became even more uncomfortable. Alfred or Feliciano would say something to attempt to start a conversation, and it worked at times. Other times it didn't. It all depended on the day.
Doctors said that there were good days, and there were bad days. A day for everyone was different. What was wonderful for one person could be horrid for another. Support group was like a surprise party from hell; no one knew what was in store that day.
"Lovi, you should go first!" Feliciano leaned forward in his chair, urging his brother to speak. Feliciano never quite understood why his brother was so angry all of the time; but now that he had the ability to help him, he always tried his hardest, whether Lovino appreciated it or not.
"I don't want to talk," Lovino grumbled. "You always tell me to talk, but I don't want to talk, fratello stupido. Non posso trattare con voi a volte…"
He trailed off in Italian, mumbling under his breath. Feliciano's smile faltered as if he were going to start crying, but he didn't. He refused to cry over what his group said; he wasn't the one that needed consoling, he had told them all that after an incident where Lovino got too angry for Feliciano not to cry. He promised it wouldn't happen again, and he kept his word.
"Alright," Feliciano nodded, turning towards Ivan. "What about you, Ivan? How was your day? Did anything exciting happen?"
Ivan shook his head. Nothing ever happened. His life wasn't exciting. If anything, it was uneventful.
"No," he finally said, looking at his knees. "I went back to school. I do not like school. Is very scary."
"Why is it scary?" Feliciano asked softly as Ludwig scribbled in his notebook. Ivan hated when he did that. He never knew what Ludwig was writing down, but it had to be bad. What good things came out of a sick kid's mouth?
"There are lots of people. People are bad for me. I could hurt them if I get close to them. I cannot get close to them. I will hurt them, I…"
"It's okay," Feliciano soothed. "You're opening up more, Ivan, that's good. You didn't talk as much at first. But you're making great progress. Good job." Feliciano then turned towards Alfred, asking him the same question, "How was your day?"
"My day was amazing, as usual," Alfred said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. "Coach told me that there would be college recruiters at the next game. They're all going to be fighting over me to go to their schools! And after practice, I took Arthur on a walk by the lake – real romantic of me, I must say. He's really cute, you know. There's no one cuter, at all."
"So you've mentioned," Lovino muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Man, you're just jealous 'cause I've got Arthur by my side, and you don't. When was the last time you had a date, Lovino?"
"Lovino goes on lots of dates!" Feliciano defended his brother. "Antonio takes him on dates all the time! Doesn't he, fratello?"
"Shut up."
"Wait, wait, my Spanish teacher, Antonio? Señor Carriedo? The one with the annoying voice and way too perfect to be real hair?" Alfred asked, wide eyed.
"Yes," Lovino said, teeth clenched. "Stop talking about him like that."
"Oh, only you can do that, huh?"
"We are off topic," Ludwig stressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We understand that both of your boyfriends are fantastic. Can we please move on?"
"Aw, but, Luddy, I think it's sweet!" Feliciano insisted, hugging his boyfriend's arm, pouting. "Why don't you ever talk about me like that?"
"Feliciano," he hissed, elbowing him gently. Sitting back in his chair, Feliciano's shoulders slumped as he tucked his chin into his chest, looking defeated.
"Heracles, it's your turn," Ludwig said. The brunette was fast asleep in his chair, head lolling against his shoulder. Lilli poked him, causing him to sit up suddenly.
"What?" he said, looking towards Ludwig sheepishly.
"Your day, Heracles," he repeated, writing in his notebook.
"Oh, right. Well, I met a new boy."
"Another boy?" Feliciano asked curiously.
"He is a new student from China." Ivan perked up. He knew a student from China. "His name is Kiku. He is quiet but nice. He gave me his notes when I fell asleep behind him."
Ludwig looked at him skeptically. "You fell asleep again? In class?"
"Only once," Heracles said, cheeks pink. "I took my pills, like the doctor told me to. But I do not think they work very well. And what is the point in taking them if they do not work?"
"Give them time," Ludwig said, shutting his notebook. "Lilli? What about you? Any boys?"
She shook her head. "Big brother doesn't let me talk to boys."
There was soft laughter; that didn't surprise any of them. They'd only met Vash a handful of times, but he most certainly did not enjoy leaving his little sister alone for an hour with a group of all men.
"Of course," Ludwig said. "Berwald?" Nothing came from him, but that wasn't a surprise. He didn't like to talk, and he rarely did. Finally, after they all waited for him, Berwald shook his head. "Nothing?" He shook his again. "Alright."
The clock on the wall clanged; seven o'clock approached them. Standing up, Feliciano clapped his hands. "Well, that's that. Great meeting everyone! We'll meet next Monday! Have a good week!" He scampered to Lovino, rambling to him while Lovino most likely ignored him. The rest of them stood up, making their way to the door.
But Ivan couldn't move. He was still thinking of what Heracles had said. He had met a new student from China. Like Yao. But this boy wasn't Yao. But he could be related to Yao.
Standing up, Ivan rushed to Heracles before he could leave. "Heracles. May I talk to you? I have question."
Blinking, Heracles looked around to make sure he was hearing correctly. Ivan hadn't ever spoken to him until now. "Yes? What is it?"
"You said you met boy. Chinese boy. What was his name?"
"Oh, you mean Kiku. What about him?"
"Does he have brother?" he asked.
"Yes. Yao, I think Kiku said his name was. He's a senior. Wouldn't you know that better than me?" Heracles asked.
"I was just wondering. Thank you," Ivan said before shuffling out the door. Every time he talked to someone, he was left winded. The shortest of conversations terrified him. But he had gotten through it. Was he supposed to congratulate himself for talking to a person? Good job, Ivan, you seemed somewhat normal.
Still, he couldn't shake the thought of that Yao boy. He had only seen him for a few seconds, but he was so intriguing. He couldn't help stare at him, when he wasn't looking of course. But then sometimes Yao would catch him staring. He wouldn't look away though. He'd smile. And wave. People never smiled at him. And his smile was so soft, so genuine. Like he really wanted Ivan to know that he was seriously happy to be looking at him.
In a perfect world, Ivan could've gone up to Yao, swept him into his arms, and they could've skipped into the sunset. But the world was anything but perfect. It was cruel and heartless. All Ivan could hold onto were the smiles he was so graciously granted.
Yao hated English class. It was the one class he struggled in. While he had learned English back in China, it wasn't his first language. It caused him stress.
The reading the teacher had handed out was blurring his vision. The difficulty of a senior English class had completely slipped his mind. They were going to be tested on the material they were given; how could he pass when he couldn't even finish the first page?
Giving up, he allowed his eyes to wander. The clock read eleven-forty. There were twenty minutes until the period ended. Distractions were key; he just needed to find one.
He tried looking out the window, but the wind blowing the leaves off of the trees could only entertain him so much. He stared at the book some more, not even attempting to read it, but the black ink made his head hurt. Instead, he scoped out the rest of the class, letting his eyes trail over the rows of students. He stopped when he hit the back of a blonde head.
The Ivan boy had his head down, reading his book ever so intently. He couldn't see much else other than the round shape of his nose and the curvature of his chin. Yao wasn't sure why he was still so interested with the boy; who was he to him? They didn't talk; they weren't friends. Ivan was just some random boy in his class, nothing more. And no matter how much he interested Yao, he highly doubted he wanted anything to do with him.
Some time between staring at Ivan's head and wondering how his eyes could be so purple that they looked like amethysts, the bell rang. Shutting his book, Yao walked as quickly as he could to the door. A few students crowded, trying to get into the hallway, but just as Yao thought he was safe to go, Ivan bumped into him. Book flying out of his hand, Yao muttered an apology before scrambling to pick it up. Just as his hand went to clutch the binding, he felt a larger hand wrap around his.
Neither of them processed what was happening. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as they looked up at each other. Ivan broke free of the daze first, hand scaring away from the book, as if Yao's hand had burned him. Yao hugged the book to his chest, glaring at his shoes.
"I apologize," Yao whispered, turning away and walking out of the door.
"It is alright," he heard Ivan call after him softly. Yao didn't think he had ever smiled wider.
The day before, Yao had eaten his lunch in the hallway just outside the cafeteria. Why eat inside when he had no one to sit with? However, Bella found him and told him that he should go in and make friends. He promised her that he would the following day.
Now he had the dilemma of finding somewhere to sit. Every student either looked too intimidating or too strange to him. Lunch bag in hand, Yao weaved his way through the rows of tables until he spotted one in the very back corner of the room, tucked away from everyone else.
Three blondes – was every American blonde, or was Yao just insane? – sat close to each other, laughing and sharing food. They had the kindest faces that Yao had yet to find. With hope, he approached the table, gaining the attention of the three.
"May I sit here?" he asked. "I mean, I…I just came here, and I'm not sure of what to do…"
"It's no problem," one blonde with green eyes and large eyebrows said, motioning towards one of the empty seats. "Go right ahead, mate."
Sitting down, Yao laid out his food in front of him before taking a bite of the sandwich Hei-Ran had packed him. The blondes were quiet until one with blue eyes said, "What's your name?"
"I'm Yao Wang," he replied. "I just moved here from China. I don't know anyone, and I'm sorry to bother you. I'm sure you do not want some random exchange student sitting with you."
"Oh nonsense," the green eyed one said, waving his hand. "Don't be ridiculous. You're no trouble at all. My name is Arthur. That one there, the one with the curl, is Matthew. And the one with blue eyes is-"
"Alfred F. Jones, at your service!" he exclaimed, saluting at Yao. "I'm the star quarterback around here, so you're sitting with royalty, my friend! Mattie is my cousin, but everyone thinks we're twins. But don't be mistaken! And this one," he slung his arm around Arthur's waist, pulling him closer, "is the absolute love of my life, Arthur Kirkland, one day going to be Jones!"
"Alfred," Arthur scolded, swatting him away. "I apologize for my boyfriend, he can be a bit excessive. He does mean well."
"Is China nice?" Matthew asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, yes, it's beautiful. I do miss it. Not to say that America isn't wonderful! There's so much to learn though, I have yet to experience everything. I'm sure it's all great!"
"Don't fret so much," Arthur laughed. "I was the same way when I moved here from London. It really isn't that great."
"London? Really? I should've guessed from the accent," Yao said, taking another bite of his sandwich.
"Beautiful city. I hope to go back one day and visit my brothers. I haven't seen them since I moved here seven years ago."
"Oh, c'mon, Artie, they'll be invited to the wedding, and you'll see them all!" Alfred said.
"Hush yourself, love, you're far too loud," Arthur said, breaking off part of a piece of chicken from his sandwich. "Now, c'mon. You've got to eat."
Never before had Yao seen someone's facial expression change so quickly. Alfred's smile drained from his face. He turned away from Arthur, refusing to even touch the piece of chicken he was being offered.
"Love, please, just a bite," Arthur murmured, resting his hand on Alfred's arm. "I won't fight you anymore after this. Just a little piece? Please?"
Alfred looked down, almost as if he was staring at his stomach, before giving a small nod. He took the chicken, breathed in deeply, and plopped it in his mouth. It was so painful to watch him chew; he looked like he was being strangled. But Arthur looked quite the opposite. He was smiling, arms wrapping around Alfred's torso.
"That's it. That's great, Alfred," he said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Alfred said nothing. Yao, though curious, didn't say anything. He continued to eat until he was slammed rather forcefully into the table.
"Mathieu!" Yao heard someone shout from behind him. Accent thick and what he believed to be French, the man behind him had shoulder length blonde hair and stubble on his chin. "How are you, mon petit?"
He seemed to be talking to Matthew. The boy turned red, pushing the French man away. "Francis, please. You're embarrassing me," Matthew pleaded, only causing Francis to let out a cry.
"But, Mathieu, I haven't seen you all day! Haven't you missed me?" Francis said, hugging Matthew around the shoulders.
"I saw you just this morning," Matthew replied. "And I will see you after school is over. Besides, don't you have a class to teach this period?"
"Oui. But I couldn't bear not seeing you for another minute!"
"Go to class, Francis," Matthew said, turning away from him.
"But-"
"I'll watch America's Next Top Model with you after school if you go."
Smiling brightly, the Francis man nodded, squeezing Matthew in one last hug before skipping away, flailing his arms like a mad man.
"Not to intrude," Yao said to Matthew, "but who was that?"
"My older brother," Matthew sighed, nibbling on a cookie. "He's the French teacher here. He's very affectionate and overbearing. It's best to just ignore him."
Yao nodded. Was anything at this school normal? Everything seemed to be so complicated and over dramatic. Nothing was ever simple.
The four of them chatted for a bit about themselves and what they liked to do. With each word, Yao found it easier and easier to talk to them. Maybe that was his problem, he didn't initiate any conversations; he just waited for them to come to him. But it was nice to talk to someone outside of his family again. Communication for a teenager was a part of growing up, he supposed, and he had been deprived of it for a while.
"Hey, Mattie, don't look now, but you're lover's here," Alfred said, pointing to the opposite side of the cafeteria. There was a tall man with silver-white hair talking to a brown haired girl. Even from where Yao was sitting he could see the red of the man's eyes.
"He is not my lover, Alfred," Matthew said defensively though the love sick look in his eyes told a different story.
"That's Mr. Beilschmidt, the gym teacher," Alfred said. "Mattie's totally got the hots for him."
"I don't!"
"Your boner says otherwise."
"Alfred!"
Yao looked at Arthur who just rolled his eyes. It must've been a daily occurrence for him, but Yao didn't think he minded all that much.
"If you two would stop bickering, you would see that he's coming over here," Arthur said, biting into his apple. Alfred perked up, rubbing his hands together in excitement. Matthew tugged on his hair, covering his face.
"Hey, kiddies!" Mr. Beilschmidt greeted, sitting himself down next to Alfred. "How's life?"
"Just fabulous," Alfred sung before resting his chin in his hand and looking over to Matthew. "But I think Matthew's just got a whole lot better."
"Is that right?" Mr. Beilschmidt said, looking at Matthew. "And why's that?"
"Isn't it obvious? It's because you-"
"Yao!" Matthew interrupted, glaring at his cousin. "This is Mr. Beilschmidt. Mr. Beilschmidt, this is Yao. He just transferred here from China."
"Oh, yeah! Lizzie was telling me something about some new students or something earlier, but I can never remember what she says. The woman talks too much. Nice to meet you, kid. And, Matthew," Mr. Beilschmidt said, "I thought I told you that you're all allowed to call me Gilbert."
"I uh…forgot."
"Well, best to remember!" Gilbert said, standing back up. "Bells 'bout to ring. Gotta get back to the gym before all the freshmen get there. They're like animals!" Before he left, he made a point to clap Matthew on the shoulder and smile. "See you eighth period, Mattie!" Allowing his hand to linger there, Gilbert made his leave.
"We better get going," Arthur said, sliding his bag over his shoulder. "Sixth period is about to start. Matthew? Are you alright?" Matthew, eyes glued to the door of the cafeteria where Gilbert had just disappeared through, looked up at Arthur, blushing fiercely. He nodded, grabbing his things and sped away, head downcast.
"Told ya he's got the hots for him," Alfred teased. Arthur slapped him on the chest, taking a hold of his hand.
"Be nice, Alfred," he said, tugging on him. "It was really nice to meet you, Yao. Will you be joining us tomorrow?"
Jaw dropping just slightly, Yao said, "Only if that's alright!"
"We've told you, it's perfectly fine. We'll see you tomorrow, Yao." Alfred waved at him, following Arthur to the door.
Yao grinned to himself. Success felt good. Three people had taken an interest in him, and none of them were intimidating or insane.
Maybe America wasn't as bad as he thought.
To be continued.
