After the third lesson they had lunch. Alfred and Matthew noticed Gilbert almost immediately and decided to go eat with him.

"Francis and Antonio had something to do," the albino replied when twins asked why he was eating alone. "They skip lunch every Tuesday."

The Americans nodded in understandment and didn't question him further. While they ate, Gilbert asked how they were doing in the new school.

While Matthew explained something about their class, Alfred's eyes caught a certain scarf. He followed the creamy coloured material with his eyes and soon saw silvery hair, pale skin and violet eyes.

Ivan smiled at him. Alfred just frowned and then turned back to Gilbert and Matthew.

"What?" He asked when the two of them stared at him.

"That's the guy you were talking about?" Matthew asked and pointed at the Russian. Alfred nodded warily.

"No way, man!" Gilbert groaned. "Braginski? You gotta be out of your mind."

"Toris said something like that too," Alfred mumbled. "What's so weird about him? I mean, judging by what we talked, I don't think that we'd ever be the greatest friends, but..."

"Well, you see..." Gilbert started and leaned closer to Alfred. "Ivan Braginski is very sadistic. At this moment, he could be planning the most entertaining ways how he could torture you, who knows. Besides, I heard that he was originally sent from Russia to here because" – a pause that probably was supposed to be dramatic – "he murdered someone in his old school."

There was a silence. Then Alfred started laughing.

"Yeah right! I can believe that he would be sadistic, but I don't think he'd go around killing people," he explained quietly after he calmed down. "That's probably just some stupid rumor."

"You can ask Toris about that," Gilbert said with a low voice. "That guy knows Braginski better than anyone... expect his sisters."

"He has sisters?" Alfred asked and tried to remember if the Russian had mentioned something about that. Probably not, Alfred then thought.

"Yeah, Nataliya and Yekaterina," Gilbert told.

"Nataliya?" Matthew asked. "Wasn't there someone named that in our class?"

"I think so..." Alfred mumbled and paused to think. "Oh yeah, that girl with long silvery hair?"

"That's probably her," Gilbert said. "She's creepy too. They say that she's already been in jail. Thrice."

"Pfft, yeah right –" Alfred remembered the glare she had given to him during the second glass. "...Nah, I can believe that."

Gilbert chuckled. "See?"

"What about the other one?" Matthew asked.

"Oh, Yekaterina?" Gilbert noted. "She's on the same class as me. Pretty curvy and has good racks but not exactly my type. She cries at almost every single thing."

Matthew blushed slightly when the albino commented on her body. Alfred just laughed and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Aww, Mattie, so innocent," the older of the two laughed with a sing-song voice. Matthew just blushed more and looked away.

Then Alfred's eyes caught Ivan's again. They stared at each others and then the world felt so narrow until all voices were so distant and Ivan's eyes just asked so did you hear it already and it was a challenge.

"Fine then," America snarled and stood up.

Ivan's smile widened.

"Alfred?" A distant voice asked but Alfred merely ignored it. He walked calmly towards the Russian man and when he was right in front of him, when those eyes looked up, up at his own, did he say:

"Hey."

Ivan's smile did not falter.

"Привет, Alfred."

Alfred didn't like that how his name sounded when coming from that guy's mouth.

"Have you really killed someone?"

Oh yes he has, I have, everyone here has-

But there was a silence, exclude all the distant voices that didn't know anything about this conversation, include all the strained ears that had caught a glimpse of this discussion and wanted to hear more.

"Maybe."

His heart skipped a beat.

"Maybe not."

Alfred inhaled.

"That ain't a good answer."

"That isn't my problem."

The American glared at him and then turned around and walked away, leaving Ivan alone.

Chapter Six of Memories

----unforgivable sinner----

"Alfred, what are you thinking?" Matthew practically yelled at his brother. They had just left the cafeteria and were currently walking towards their class. "You just... you just went and asked him that!"

"Hey, I couldn't help it!" Alfred told him. "He looked so annoying that I just had to."

"That's not a good excuse!" Matthew looked ready to rip every single hair off from his head. "I can't believe you..."

Alfred huffed and ignored his brother. Ivan really seemed annoying now when he had gotten to know him a little better. Especially his answer to Alfred's question.

Maybe. Maybe not.

Freaking sunflowers, Alfred thought and frowned. How girly is that?

"Alfred!"

"What?" He snapped and turned to look around. "Oh. Hey, Maria..."

"Did you really do it?"

Alfred blinked. "Do what?"

Maria lowered her voice. "Ask Braginski if he really killed someone."

Silence.

"Yeah," Alfred replied. "I did. How did you-"

"Alfred!"

The one mentioned frowned and turned to look at the direction where the voice came from. It was Gaspar and Carlos.

"Did you really-?"

"Yeah, I did," Alfred told them. They gaped at him and were going to ask more when-

"Alfred!!"

Why was his name so popular today?

"So you really asked him that?" Toris asked with wide eyes. Alfred groaned.

"Yes, yes I did! What's so weird about it?" He asked. There was a silence for a few moments.

"Well, it is Ivan Braginski," Gaspar shrugged.

"He has quite a reputation here, like you already know," Carlos continued.

"And then you go and ask him that?" Maria finished.

"Er, yeah?" Alfred asked, still not understanding. Gaspar facepalmed and Carlos smiled sheepishly.

"Everyone's kinda afraid of him..." Toris told him. Alfred glanced at him.

"What? It can't be that someone actually believes in those rumors..." he stopped midway in his sentence when he saw the looks he was getting. "...You do?"

"No shit, Sherlock!" Gaspar groaned. "Everyone knows about it. Even the principal! Everything's prepared for that if he even as much as tries to kill someone."

"Isn't that kinda..." Alfred laughed sheepishly but then stopped when Gaspar glared at him. ...Over-reacted? He finished in his mind.

"Anyway, the class is starting," Carlos sighed. "Drael will skin us alive if we're late."

"Drael?" Matthew asked. "What do we have now anyway?"

"Geography. And he is our teacher. His full name is Vladimir Drael, but everyone just calls him Drael," Toris explained. "Let's go."

Alfred and Matthew followed four of them as they walked down the corridor. Alfred didn't feel like getting lost again.

But when they arrived at their destination, someone was waiting for them.

"Which one of you asked Braginski that absurd question?" The boy, who had messy sandy blond hair and weird eyebrows – That kinda reminded Alfred about their English teacher. Maybe they were related or something. – asked. As an answer, everyone pointed at Alfred who stared at the Briton – that accent was a dead give-away – innocently.

Everyone else but Alfred went inside the room.

"What was the last time when you shaved your brows?" The American asked almost immediately when they were left alone.

"Excuse me?!" Shorter of the two almost screamed.

"I asked-" Alfred almost repeated but other stopped him:

"I dare you to say that again."

There was a silence for a moment.

"Okay," Alfred sighed. "So what do you want? Who are you anyway?"

"My name is Arthur Kirkland, you git," the Brit replied. "And I wanted to meet the idiot who apparently thinks that murder is an every-day incident."

"Whoa, wait!" Alfred raised his hands in front of himself protectively. "You believe that too? Seriously, what the hell."

Arthur raised one of those large brows. Alfred suppressed his urge to laugh.

"You really are a moron," Arthur noted. "I was right, expecting something like that from an American."

"What do you mean?" The American in question asked.

"I hate Americans," Arthur stated and then added as an after-thought: "And French. But more Americans."

I loved you and gave my everything to you, but you left me alone. I hate you.

Alfred laughed. "That's weird. And kinda racist."

Arthur glared at him and their eyes met.

They stared at each others for few moments, before Arthur finally turned his back to Alfred and left.

Alfred's eyes followed his back until he disappeared behind the corner. Then the American left to his class. His mind was filled with one sentence.

How can anyone have so green eyes?

It was that feeling, how you know the answer, but you just can't remember it. It's at the closest borders of your memory, it almost reaches your conscious mind and you just can't give it a name.

Alfred decided that he would ask Arthur next time they met.

--the end of chapter six of "memories"

Author notes: I don't have much to say, expect... oh God, what the hell is with this drama. I mean, of course there is supposed to be drama. But... ah, whatever. Nations like to gossip, eh? (Even if they kinda aren't nations anymore.)

привет, privyet = "hello" (Russian)