Chapter six
This stupid ass school and all its ridiculous rules can suck my Italian balls, Lovino thought determinedly, gently closing his door behind him as he crept down the hall. It was some time after 7:45, which meant it was study time apparently, and that meant as a fucking sophomore he was supposed to be stuck inside his room for the rest of the night. Well fuck that, he had a little prick of a brother to yell at. Seriously, what the hell was going on? Had Feliciano finally killed the remains of his brain cells by boiling them with his last batch of spaghetti? He couldn't possibly be in...in love with that stupid Potato Bastard he called a roommate! No he must be confused, when the fuck wasn't he? He was the one who had sworn this school would be a nice experience after all.

The whole situation pissed him off; his stupid little brother could have had a collection of better, more appealing choices if he had wanted, because now that he was finally getting older he seemed to always have admirers floating around nearby. Why couldn't he had chosen one of them; not one of the creepy bastards from this school, but one of Italy's lovely people? "Listen well, i miei ragazzi, there are many beauties in this world, but very few can compare to the wondrous sights that can be found among our women- and our men," their grandfather had told them with a wink. And for once, Lovino agreed with the crazy old man. Who could deny that cute little blonde who cheerfully worked part time in the flower shop, or the doe eyed beauty who had grown in all the right places? What about the guy Feli had loved to paint with, or the teenaged waiter at their favorite restaurant, the one who always snuck them free food and offered playful winks to the younger Vargas boy. Lovino approved of them, for they were all highly qualified: their skin had been lovingly kissed by the Mediterranean Sun, they had been blessed with the Italian tongue, they were expressive and loved to use hand gestures to convey their meaning, they cherished the art of a peaceful siesta, and they understood the necessity of cooking tomatoes in as many dishes as possible. The Potato Bastard had no appeal whatsoever and hell, he only seemed to have two emotions: 'I have a stick in my ass' and 'I have two sticks up my ass and now I'm pissed.' Feliciano was a blind fool if he thought he needed that in his life, and apparently he needed his older brother to show it to him. He'd better fucking believe that few could surpass the sexiness found in their home country, and that pale German Potato wasn't anywhere near it! In fact, only a small handful of the girls- and even less of the guys- in World Academy actually could compete with Italian beauty in Lovino's opinion(and his opinion was fact). Emma was one of those exceptions, he had readily decided. Could he even think of a male who could change his mind? He sure as hell could not, proof that Feliciano should just stick to Italians. Dammit, he obviously wasn't trying to push out wandering thoughts of one junior in particular; one with a natural even tan to his skin, messy brown curls, fucking dancing green eyes, and a bright smile plastered to his face. And no, the reason why he wasn't pushing those thoughts out wasn't because he enjoyed them- it was because they didn't fucking exist to begin with!

Focus! He growled softly and dropped his fist onto his head to clear his muddled mind. I have to figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do with my brother after I get to his room. I can't chew him out with that bastard in the room! I'll have to...dammit...I'll bring him to the kitchen and hope it won't be locked!

With the plan finalized the Italian continued his silent trek down the halls, smirking when he managed to reach Feliciano's door without getting caught. Glancing around, he lifted a fist to the door and knocked as gently as he possibly could, pressing an ear against the wood in order to hear inside.

"Ve~! I think someone's at the door!" That was Feliciano, if the 've' and random squealing didn't give it away.

"Why would someone be at the door at this time?" Came the German's annoyingly gruff voice. "It's Study Time. I swear if Gilbert's back..."

"I'll check it!"

"Nein! You're supposed to be cleaning off your desk so you can actually study there for once."

"Hehe, but I'm already at door Luddy!"

Lovino was too busy scowling at the overly flirty tone of his brother's voice and the fact that the Potato Bastard wasn't even noticing what was right in front of his ugly face, that he didn't pull away from the door. The second Feliciano opened it he fell right into their room with a thud. "Ow! Fucking door!" He hissed as quietly as he could muster, slowly standing up as he rubbed his elbow and dusted off his clothes.

"Fratello?" Feli was staring at him like he had just discovered a living unicorn, his amber eyes as wide as dinner plates and his mouth open wide enough to catch fucking flies with it. Even the bastard sitting at his desk was looking at him strange, lifting his glasses from his face. "Aren't you supposed to be in your room?"

"Fuck that shit," he said indignantly. "And I'm not here to waste time talking to some potato loving bastard like you, dammit, so shut the hell up!" He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Abbiamo bisogno di parlare."

Feli gnawed on his bottom lip nervously. "In questo momento?"

"Sí."

"Qui?"

"No idiota!" Lovino scoffed and narrowed his eyes at Ludwig. "There are witnesses."

Feliciano blinked and cast a look to the German over his shoulder. "But-"

"Come on!" The elder Italian huffed as he grabbed the other by the wrist and dragged him out of the room. "If you don't want to get caught you better keep your fucking loud voice down." He could hear his brother whimpering softly, but after his grip tightened on the brat's wrist he shut up. Fortunately for Lovino, the Potato Bastard was too awkward to actually say anything and simply sat there with a shocked look on his face as the two disappeared. That was good, because if he had attempted to interfere Lovino would have killed him for sure.

The two brothers managed to sneak in the kitchen, and by that time he could feel Feli shaking. "F-fratello?" He stammered after they slipped into the empty room, wringing his hands together as the elder locked the door. "Is s-something wrong?" Dio, the little baby was already tearing up, his lower lip trembling pitifully.

Lovino crossed his arms and frowned. "Would you fucking calm down? I haven't even started yelling yet!"

"B-but I know you're going to!" Feliciano wailed. "And waiting for it is almost as scary as when you actual start yelling! I don't know what I did Lovino, but I'm sorry!"

Well wasn't that stupid? "How the hell can you be sorry when you don't even know why, idiot?" Lovino tsked as he flicked his brother on the forehead. "You are sorry dammit! You are sorry and pathetic and fucking stupid! Do you know why?" Feliciano looked completely terrified as he took a few shaky steps back until he hit a counter, shaking his head fearfully. "Dear fucking gay-ass diary," Lovino began sarcastically, clapping his hands together. "I have a secret, so be a nice fucking book and don't tell anyone, okay? I think I might be falling in love with a complete bastard named Ludwig Beilschmidt!"

The small gasp let him know he had struck a nerve like he had been hoping to do. "H-how do you know about that?" Feliciano asked, his face sheet white.

"What do you think? I have friends in low places."

"Is that why Gilbert was sneaking around earlier? To go through my things for you?"

"Wow, you actually have something inside that head of yours besides pasta and the Potato Bastard."

The younger's eyes gleamed with tears, but even so they suddenly grew cold. "Lovino! That is personal!"

"I'm your brother for fuck's sake!" Hazel eyes flashed angrily. "You were supposed to tell me anyway! The bastard is your roommate! Who knows what kind of kinky shit he could have been forcing you into and no one would have known! Believe it or not I'm trying to fucking take care of you."

Feliciano huffed. "Maybe I don't want your help!" He stated. "If this is what you call looking out for me than I don't want it!"

"Too fucking bad! You're obviously not mature enough to take care of your own damn self- look at the bastard you're 'in love with!' He's a cold little fucker who probably doesn't even know the basics of love, he's pretty damn stupid too, the kraut is probably on drugs or some shit like that- kids our age are not supposed to look like fucking bodybuilders!"

"Lovino stop!" Feliciano's chest heaved as he curled his hands into small fists at his sides. "How could you say things like that? You don't even know Ludwig! If you did you would know how nice he is to me, that he reminds me of things I forget, and he always helps me with my homework. Sure, he is a little gruff but he really is sweet when you get to know him, and I love him for that! But of course, you won't get to know him because you're too hateful and mean!" He sniffled and dragged the back of his hand across his face.

"Besides," he added in a slightly calmer voice. "I'm not the only one keeping secrets, now am I fratello?"

Lovino blinked in confusion, his expression losing its former malice. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He didn't have any secrets, none that his brother would be interested in knowing anyway…

"What about you and Antonio?"

"Che?!" His jaw dropped in shock, while his cheeks heated up in...disgust dammit! "What the fuck makes you think that-?! There's nothing going on between the bastard and I! Why would you think that there was?!"

"Because I know you," Feli looked pretty damn proud of himself, as if it took a genius to figure his answer out. "Because I've heard the way you talk about him."

"With annoyance?"

"Also, Luddy is in Spanish with you guys. He's seen the way you two look at each other too."

"With fucking loathing!"

"That's not what Ludwig says," Feliciano continued, smiling triumphantly. "Ve~ He says you two seem really close!"

"Well fuck what your Potato Bastard says!" Lovino roared. "He needs to wear his ugly ass glasses more often because his eyes are fucked up! I hope you have fun sucking face with him because I'm leaving! Buonanotte stupido!" He stomped over to the door and yanked it open, nearly colliding with Mr. Stanton, the Residence Hall Director, who was standing outside the door. Fuck…

"Ah, I was certain I heard voices in here- distinctly Italian voices," the man began with a raise of his brow. "If I'm not mistaken you two are Lovino and Feliciano Vargas? You two do realize it is past your curfew?" By some miracle, the two brothers managed to convince the man that there was a bit of family issues going on that they simply had to discuss before the next day. Lovino apologized and Feli teared up again and the Director relented with a soft sigh. "Next time an issue comes up, talk to me first," he said. "I can't have you breaking curfew all the time you know."

Mr. Stanton finally offered to walk Feli back to his room, leaving Lovino to angrily march back to his dorm alone, thoughts clouding his mind without pity. Is that really how other people see it? He wondered, scowling at his feet. Does it really look like I have feelings for the Tomato Bastard? Because I don't! Hell, I could care less if I never had to see his face again! Even as he firmly agreed with himself, however; he couldn't exactly shake the small frown he had seen on Antonio's face earlier. It made his stomach twist guiltily for some reason.


Arthur stumbled into chemistry ten minutes after the bell had rung, clothes wrinkled and blond hair sticking out even more than usual, nearly dropping his book onto the floor as he pushed the door open. "Mr. Kirkland," Mr. Russey raised an eyebrow at him in surprise as he watched the usually punctual student tumble into his desk in an ungraceful heap. "It is an honor that you would grace us with your presence, kind sir. About time if I do say so myself."

It took every single ounce of self-control on the Brit's part to keep himself from pulling a Lovino Vargas and saying something completely disrespectful. He groaned, rubbing at his temples as he muttered a half hearted apology in order to get the teacher off his back. Amazingly, it worked.

"As I was saying before I was interrupted by Mr. Kirkland's dramatic entrance-" There was a soft scoff from his right, and Arthur pursed his lips together in annoyance, opening his book to the page he assumed they were on. "Look here, Frog," he hissed in a low voice. "I do not have the patience to put up with you today, I am still ticked about what you said yesterday."

No response.

Arthur's thick brows furrowed as he snuck a glance at the Frenchman sitting beside him. Francis wasn't looking at him; instead he was playing with a strand of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail while he scribbled something down on a small piece of paper and passed it to some girl sitting behind him when Mr. Russey wasn't looking.

"Frog!"

The other still wasn't listening, as if he was actually writing notes for chemistry!

"Mr. Kirkland, there must be a reason why you're interrupting my class again." Russey was glaring at him with his beady-eyed stare, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to bristle.

"I was trying to find out what page we're on." Arthur sent a dirty look to Francis, only to be given the cold shoulder again. As if he had a right to do so; if anything Arthur should be the one ignoring him for all the poppycock he had said the day before!

The day wasn't looking good so far, he was already getting a headache from the crazy morning stress. This was all that blasted Spaniard's fault! In all honesty he should have been expecting revenge for the whole tea ordeal, but he had simply pushed the possibility aside, deeming his roommate too stupid to get back at him. Somehow, he had been wrong. Antonio must have been blessed with a moment of a thought process, for he had managed to sabotage his alarm clock and set it for an entire hour late! Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if the wanker had set up a camera somewhere to capture the beauty of him running around the room like a chicken who had lost its head, attempting to run a brush through his poorly washed hair while he frantically pulled wrinkled clothes over his body. …

On second thought, of course Antonio must have had help for such a scheme. And Arthur had his suspicions. His green eyes narrowed questioningly as, under the scrutinizing eye of Mr. Russey, Francis finally glanced at him with a mischievous look in his cerulean eyes and murmured, "page forty-two, little black sheep." The small smirk that settled onto his face as he turned back to his book said it all; he knew. In fact, he probably had been the one to give Antonio the idea, the one who had has slipped into the room in the dead of night to execute the plan, and the one who had set up cameras too!

"You bloody wanker," he griped, tightening his grip on his pen.

The Frenchman chuckled under his breath. "l hope you slept well."

As a matter of fact, Arthur hadn't slept well at all! And it wasn't because he was wondering if Francis had been right when he had said he couldn't make friends without bossing them around, not at all… Actually, there was no point in lying to himself. The truth was he had spent restless hours tossing and turning in his bed with the annoying sound of Antonio's light snores in the background, trying not to think about his earlier conversation with Francis. It was truly ridiculous that those words actually stung, that he might actually be right.

I'm not bossy, he had tried to reason. Well, not that bossy anyway. Sure, maybe I found a couple of guys who had at least one thing in common and practically took over their lives outside school hours, but it's not like I'm a complete control freak! Because that Frog had to be wrong, he couldn't be that bad at making friends, it wasn't like he had never had one before. There had been Aaron, but he had been so socially awkward the two barely conversed outside of school. What about Errick- wait. He had been a douche. In reality, the only people Arthur had actually spent time with were his insane, loud-mouthed brothers, and maybe that was why he was so overbearing at times. He was used to being the responsible one, the one who would take charge even if he was younger just so the house would live to see another day in the chaotic Kirkland family's life.

Perhaps Francis was right, he had eventually wondered. Maybe I am undeniably controlling. Could that be why my friends are hiding things from me, because I am not personable at all? The thoughts had buzzed around in his head until early morning, when he finally fell asleep only to be awoken late.

Now he huffed, furrowing his brows as he attempted to focus on Mr. Russey's lecture. It was nearly impossible to do so when one's mind was going in a hundred different directions. If that is the case, he silently reasoned, continuing his thoughts from the night before. Than I don't really blame them I suppose...I am always so temperamental, uptight, and judgemental- look at all the times I've criticized Francis!

The moment the thoughts entered his mind he froze with a soft gasp, dropping his pen onto his book as he shot a glare at the Frog, almost blaming him for putting those stupid words into his head. The was no way he could be feeling guilty for the way he had been treating him; he had been practically begging for it! The entire issue was stupid, somehow the Frenchman had managed to infiltrate his mind and get him to believe a whole lot of nonsense just to make him feel sorry for the Wanker!

I can be friendly, Arthur thought determinedly, grasping his pen and returning his gaze back to his book. Watch out Frog, I'll prove it to your ugly face that maybe I'm not the one with all the issues here! Maybe I could do just fine with a friend who is not as quiet as Matthew or who is more friendly than Lovino! What would you do about that? I know just the fellow too!

It didn't take long for Arthur to find the person he was considering, he was the loudest person in his math class after all. "There we were, nearly defeated, less than a minute left in the game. My ankle was still busted up pretty bad, but I said 'Coach, dude, put me in! I don't care if they have to carry me out of this stadium on a stretcher, I can do this.' He knew I was right, so he listened. And boy did I win the game! Do you know why? Because I am the hero!"

Arthur was already cringing, but he knew he had to talk to that annoying git because… because if he didn't that would mean Francis was right, that the issues he was having making friends was all his fault. He took a deep breath and took his seat in front of the bragging American, feeling his lips curve into an awkward smile. "Uh...Hello Alfred."

Bright blue eyes stared at him for a second before their owner blinked and jerked his glasses off his face. "Well what do you know? Prissy Pants is actually being nice for a change! Hey Artie."

Hey? What kind of greeting is that anyway? Arthur managed to keep his thoughts to himself as he shook his head. "Well...you see I was thinking about what you said a while ago, and I was wondering if maybe we could be friends…"

Alfred looked absolutely confused as he stared at him from his perch on top of his desk. "I know I haven't always acted kindly toward you, and I apologize for that," the Brit continued. "I do think we should move past that and start over, if you'd be interested that is."

Alfred beamed and put his glasses back on. "Rock out dude! That sounds absolutely wicked bro! I'd love to kick back and chill with you. But first I wanna tell you this really cool story about-"

Arthur slowly zoned out after that and rubbed at his temples. Maybe this would be harder than he thought.


See much and hear all, Matthew was good at that; he always had been. Unfortunately, he never could figure out what he was supposed to do after he looked and listened. How could he open his mouth and say something to make the situation better when people never listened to what he was trying to get across? It was impossible he decided.

Lovino was mad- even more so than usual. Matthew could handle that, he had seen him at nearly every stage of anger known to humanity. What he couldn't deal with was the Italian's silence. Normally when he was upset he'd be in the mood to rant and rave and stomp around, loudly voicing all his complaints to Matthew, who knew it was probably best if the other vented instead of taking his anger out on some poor unfortunate soul later in the day. But today he merely sat there with his lips firmly curled into a scowl, glaring at anyone who happened to walk within twenty feet of their table, relentlessly stabbing at his food instead of demanding that the stupid school needed to hire a decent Italian chef. Whenever the Canadian tried to make the slightest bit of small talk he only received a grunt and a nod for his efforts- and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about it.

Arthur was also strangely quiet, his thick eyebrows furrowed in thought. It was weird; why wasn't he getting on his case because he wasn't holding his fork just right, or telling Lovino that cursing at his teacher was unacceptable, or announcing that the three of them had something to do later while he reminded them for the upteenth time to stay away from the Bad Touch Trio. Arthur was always the responsible one in their group; demanding and slightly bossy, but he was almost fatherly that way. Seeing both of his friends so out of character was unnerving.

"Uh...are we doing anything after school today Arthur?" He asked softly, licking his lips in his nervousness.

The Brit snapped out of his reverie and stared at him, almost looking offended that the question would be addressed to him. "Well I don't know," he said. "Why would you ask me?"

Matthew shrunk inwards and rubbed the back of his neck. "B-because you're usually…." He trailed off and glanced at Lovino pleadingly, hoping his roommate would help him out, even if his reply contained enough swears to cause even a sailor's head to turn- that would have been considered normal. But the Italian was too busy destroying his lunch to notice his dilemma. "Never mind. Sorry…"

What is with them today? Matthew asked himself for the hundredth time. He sighed and rubbed at his temples, wishing he could be more assertive and simply ask them what was wrong without making them explode. Francis seemed to have a knack for that. I wonder what he would have to say. Maybe I can talk to him?

He turned his head and glanced at the Bad Touch Trio's usual table, only to realize that his friends weren't the only ones having a bad day. The Frenchman looked distressed, glancing between his two friends like someone who was torn between two sides, a small frown on his face as he finally gave up and buried his head in his hands. Antonio wasn't smiling as he turned his head away from the others and continued eating, and Gilbert was glaring at the two of them, waving his arms around in order to get his point across. Finally he snapped, grabbing his belongings and marching out of the cafeteria angrily.

Matthew frowned softly at the scene. I wonder what's going on with them, he thought. It seems like everyone is out of sync today; maybe they have something to do with each other? It was strange, Gilbert had seemed fine yesterday, even as he snuck Matthew safely out of Ludwig's room he was laughing so hard tears were gathering in his red eyes. Something must have happened after.

I wish I could help everyone, Matthew sighed. I wish I could talk to them, I wish I could say all the right things. But he was all too aware that he couldn't.

Maybe it'd be best if he took a break, if he stepped away from the anger and the tension until he could feel himself relax. Who knows, he thought as he looked around for a potential lunchtime vacation table. I might find enlightenment.

Unfortunately for Matthew he didn't know many people, which limited his options to the loudest table in the entire cafeteria, the one with the crazy American standing on the table like a general ready to lead his army into battle. Alfred… Even though sitting with his brother would be anything but relaxing, Matthew knew he'd be welcome there. After all, Alfred had always told him "Mi casa es tu casa- or in this case mi mesa." He'd also said it with an accent that would probably cause poor Antonio actual, physical pain if he heard it. That's where I'll have to go, he decided. All I have to do is get Arthur on board.

"Um...Arthur?"

The Brit's green eyes shifted from his plate as he glanced up at him. "Yes Matthew?"

"I...well...I forgot that Alfred wanted me to sit with him today. Could I go now?"

Arthur's brow furrowed, and for a second Matthew was afraid he'd say no. "Of course you can! Please, I'm not your parent- it's not as if you have to ask my permission before you do anything! Am I right Lovino?"

The Italian merely shrugged and grunted quietly, leaving Matthew to slowly gather his belongings in confusion. "Oh...Right…" he stammered as he stood up. "Sorry for leaving so unexpectedly. I'll see you guys...later...maybe? Get better soon...please." The last part was whispered so softly the others didn't hear it as they buried themselves back into their thoughts. The Canadian sighed softly and sent them one last look before he headed off in the direction of his brother's table.

He could hear him long before he got there. "So dudes, I was thinking we should make a petition to have more freaking burgers for lunch, you know? Cause I mean, this foreign stuff is cool and all, but I don't want to have to go off-campus every time I want a cheeseburger! That's so much work and-"

"Alfred," Matthew interrupted gently, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why are you standing on the table?"

Alfred finally ended his pointless rant about burgers and smiled, hopping off the table. "Matt, dude! Are you here to hang with us bro?"

"Uh...I guess I am…"

"Sweet!" Alfred clasped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward slightly. "Pick a seat! Any seat! Actually sit here next to me." He gestured around the table wildly, while Matthew hesitantly sat down next to where he could only assume Alfred had been sitting and nodded a greeting to Kiku. "Dudes," Alfred continued, turning to his friends. "This is my brother Matthew, Matt, meet everyone! Well, you already know my roomie Kiku, so meet everyone else!"

"Ciao!" A hand suddenly materialized in front of his face, nearly crashing into his nose with an unexpected amount of force. "My name is Feliciano Vargas! You've heard of me, right? You're my fratello's roommate!"

Oh, this was Lovino's brother. Matthew shook his hand, now that he could see the other's face he could see some of the two's resemblance. "Oui, he's mentioned you before. You two look alike."

Feliciano beamed and retracted his hand. "Ve~! I know! How is he? Has he settled in? Is he making any friends? I would ask him myself, but we got into a really bad fight yesterday and now he won't talk to me!"

A fight? Well, that could offer some insight as to Lovino's strange behavior. I wonder what it was about…

"Feliciano."

The voice caused Matthew to glance up and swallow thickly. He should have figured, where the younger Vargas was, Ludwig couldn't be far behind he was quickly realizing. "You shouldn't worry people with problems that don't concern them. If your brother wants him to know he'll talk eventually, I'm sure."

Feliciano giggled. "You're right, grazie Luddy! You're so smart!" The German's face turned a light shade of pink when the other touched his arm, but no one else seemed to notice, except for Kiku, who smiled ever so softly. "I wonder when they are going to confess to each other," he breathed, more to himself than to anyone else. Matthew smiled and silently agreed; the two of them would be cute together.

"Anyway," Gilbert's brother finally recovered from his flustered state and cleared his throat. "I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt. A pleasure to meet you…what was your name again?"

"M-Matthew…" Please don't notice, He thought pleadingly. Don't recognize me as the guy hiding in your closet with your brother. Please don't remember me.

Fortunately, Ludwig merely nodded and repeated his name before the only girl in the group decided to introduce herself. "Hello Aru!" She said. "I'm Yao, and I'm from China."

Alfred laughed. "Another thing to mention is that Yao is not a girl, even if he looks like one, haha!"

"That is not funny Alfred!" The Chinese...man… shouted, banging a rather feminine fist on the table. "You only thought that because you are blind and stupid! You're brother didn't think for a second that I was a woman, right?"

Matthew blushed. "Uh...sorry…" Alfred only laughed harder.

"Ah Alfred," the tall and until then silent man sitting next to Yao suddenly spoke up and placed a hand on the Chinese's small shoulder and smiled almost creepily. "Don't make fun of Yao, da?" He turned to Matthew, still grinning like a child. "My name is Ivan Braginsky, comrade. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to-"

"Don't listen to this guy," Alfred interrupted with a snarl, pointing at Ivan with his fork. "He's not trustworthy."

"Alfred that is a funny joke! I was being nice, wasn't I?"

"Oh sure, you're being nice now, just like you were when we met! But it's only a matter of time until you get all freaky and start trying to kill him like you tried to do to me!"

"Huh? If I had wanted you dead I would have gotten rid of you by now."

"Ha! As if you can kill a hero!"

"Would you two shut up and stop arguing?!" Yao demanded.

Kiku shook his head and continued eating, ignoring the fight going on around him. "Are they always like this?" Matthew whispered to him as he followed his lead.

"Most of the time, yes. You are probably wondering why we even bother spending so much time together with all the fighting."

Matthew nodded. "It is true, we don't always agree on everything; we all have different ideas, cultures, and beliefs. But in the end we may find that we've changed for the better as well. That is the beauty of companionship I suppose; it's hard sometimes but the results are worth it."

Matthew smiled, thinking about both his friends and the Bad Touch Trio. Times were tough at the moment, but he could still see the changes they were bringing in his life. Before he would have never found himself spending time with people after school, and forget trespassing into dorm rooms or hiding in closets. If they were able to do that for him he must have something he could offer...anything. Maybe I can help bring everyone together, he thought. I just have to figure out what I can do. "You're right," he said softly.

Kiku nodded. "It was your brother who helped me, can you imagine? He was the one who demanded that I couldn't stay in our room all day and forced me out. If he hadn't, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to grow. Or to see things like this."

He gestured across the table, to where Feliciano was talking to Ludwig, waving his arms around excitedly. The German cracked the smallest of smiles and shook his head in amusement, resting a hand comfortably on the other's shoulder.

As much as Lovino hates on him, Ludwig really seems to care for Feliciano, they are lucky to have each other, he decided. I wonder if I'll ever be fortunate enough to find someone who cares that much, someone who looks at me and doesn't look through me, someone who never fails to notice… Never fails to notice. For some reason he immediately thought of Gilbert.


Can you imagine a writer on their knees begging for the forgiveness of their readers for being so late? I can, and my knees are starting to get stiff from kneeling for so long… I'm so so sorry everyone! These past few weeks have really gotten to me for some reason, and I hit some form of a writer's block. I knew what I wanted to happen but I couldn't figure out how to get there.

Again, I'm sorry. I think it's time to admit that I won't be able to update on a regular basis...which really sucks. School is starting back up and I'm already looking at my schedule and slightly freaking out from the stress that hasn't quite hit yet. But don't worry, you have yet to see the last of me!

I'll end my pathetic apologies now. Please review and I'll see you next chapter!