Day 1

"You ready, Alfred?"

"...As ready as I'll ever be, Ivan."

The two boys stood outside the counseling door, both with pounding hearts and pink faces. They hesitated, each waiting for his boyfriend to open the door. Finally, Ivan was the one to find the courage to twist the cold metal knob, very slowly, and him and Alfred walked into the room for their first peer counseling session.

They both saw that Kiku was already there. He had his legs crossed, with the heel of his shoe resting on one knee; he was wearing a white polo shirt and small glasses perched on the bridge of his nose (Alfred knew those pair—they were his reading glasses). Just the faintest hint of a smile played on Kiku's pale face. He looked professional, like a very small adult. Like an actual counselor. Surrounding him was a sky blue wall, with several cheesy posters littering it. Among the sayings on them were: "Keep Calm: A Counselor Can Help"; "Sharing is Caring!"; "Be a Friend, Not a Foe" and others.

"Hello, Alfred, Ivan," he greeted, "Why don't you both take a seat."

Kiku seemed to be a very to-the-point type of person about this, and Alfred liked that. The Japanese boy instructed the couple to sit on a blue mat on the floor, back to back.

Alfred and Ivan glanced at each other, eyebrows furrowed, and did what Kiku said. He handed them each a marker and a large piece of construction paper; drawn on it was a big circle, with a smaller circle inside of it.

"This is the first exercise we're going to do," Kiku said in a voice that was somehow melodic. "I like to call it, 'the core.' Now, the first thing I want you guys to do is, in the larger circle, the one on the outside, write down what negative things you feel about each other right now—or, you can think of it like, what character traits does your partner have that you feel is holding you back in your relationship?"

Alfred inwardly raised his eyebrows at this. What negative things he thought about Ivan? He thought these sessions were supposed to help their relationship—he didn't see how this would be of any benefit to that.

"I'll set the timer for a minute," Kiku said, and the boys heard a little beep.

Despite Alfred's doubts, he touched his marker to his chin musingly anyway. Too sensitive was the first word he wrote down; then possessive. Before he knew it, his inward frustration grew as he thought about Ivan; mainly, how he'd been acting these past couple of months. The things Ivan did that made his temper boil. Obsessive. Controlling. Too moody. Unsupportive. Self-conscious. Clingy. Never gives me personal space.

On the other side of Alfred's back sat Ivan, who also was writing down his own adjectives, his own labels to give Alfred. Uncaring. Selfishness. Hot temper. Always yells at me. Always angry. Likes his friends better than me. Pushes me away. Rude.

The boys heard a low buzz, and they looked up at Kiku, who grinned. "Time's up," he declared. "Okay, here's what I want you to do now. I want you each to tell the other person what you wrote down."

Alfred was the first to react. His face turned red and his forehead crumpled. "Seriously?!"

"Now, it's okay," Kiku immediately said, as if he were consoling a small child. To Alfred's surprise, he turned to Ivan first. "Ivan? Do you wanna go first?"

Ivan's face flashed red, and he shook his paper a little bit hastily, and then smoothed back his hair. "Um...sure."

He started to read of what he'd written, in a sort of groggily tone: "Rude—hot temper—uncaring—selfishness..."

That really stung Alfred—he couldn't believe Ivan had used such a word. God, and he complains that I don't love him anymore?! He turned his head to give Ivan a sideways glare, sneering. "How the hell am I selfish when I literally—"

"Alfred," Kiku said, "let Ivan finish."

Alfred gave a low growl, loud enough to make sure Kiku heard, and put his hand up to his face, stretching his mouth with his palm so that it made a long sneer.

Ivan continued, though he'd grown wary hearing Alfred's growl. "Always yells at me—always angry—likes his friends better than me—pushes me away."

Kiku paused for a few moments to make sure Ivan was finished, and then he clapped his hands lightly. "Good, Ivan. Alfred...why don't you go next?"

Alfred was looking in the other direction, towards the wall, the sickeningly baby-blue wall, trying not to scream, or shout, or throw a hissy fit...or cry. He didn't want to do this anymore. He didn't want to read off everything negative he wrote about Ivan.

Ivan looked back at Alfred, grunting while twisting his head. His mouth was still in a sneer, and he seemed to be staring into space. He smiled lightly, and tried to pat Alfred on the thigh. "It's okay, Alfred," Ivan tried to reassure. "I won't be mad at you."

"Shut up, Ivan," Alfred hissed.

Shocked, Ivan turned back, eyes gone wide, and lowered his head.

Alfred remained in a daze for at least another moment until Kiku tried again. "Alfred...do you wanna go next?"

Alfred slowly turned his head to look at Kiku, his face blank. He let out a heavy sigh, and read what he'd written, exactly as if he were reading a list. "Possessive—too sensitive—obsessive—unsupportive—too moody—clingy—never gives me personal space—self-conscious."

"Okay," Kiku said again. "Good job, Alfred." Again, exactly as if he were a little kid. "Now, the inner circle...in there, I want you guys to write down all the things you admire in the other person...reasons you began dating them in the first place." He set the timer once more for a minute.

Now, this was a list that should make Ivan feel better. Since he wasn't facing his lover, he pictured Alfred's face in his mind, heard his laugh, his melodic voice which varied widely. Beautiful. Funny. Handsome. Down to earth. Athletic. Sweet. Loving. Fun.

Though Alfred still felt mad enough to fume, his temper slowly, quietly simmered as he began to think of Ivan. He thought about sitting at lunch with him for the first time, and the second time, third time, fourth. He thought about Yao's crooked, bloody nose, from when he'd beated the smithereens out of him—all in the name of defending and protecting Ivan. He thought about the way he'd laughed and joked with Ivan on the way back home from the woods, from the luminous silver lake, when Alfred had come to get him because Ivan's mother had wanted him home. He thought about the skatepark, the warmness of his back against the ramp, even though the day had been chilly—and their first kiss. How it had felt like fireworks in Alfred's mind.

At that point, it wasn't hard for Alfred to come up with a trillion words. Funny. Quiet. Thoughtful. Beautiful. Perfect. Cute. Kind. Smart. Good listener. Amazing artist. My best friend.

"Time's up," Kiku said, clearly noticing the boys were looking much happier. "Alfred, do you wanna go first this time?"

"Yeah," he replied in a soft tone. "Cute—kind—smart—funny—thoughtful—beautiful—amazing artist—good listener—quiet—perfect," he paused before saying the last words, "my best friend."

Ivan felt in a daze as Kiku thanked Alfred, and told him he could go next. Alfred's adjectives had made him feel so special. He looked down at his list; after hearing all that his boyfriend had to say, the sayings he'd written really felt flimsy and insignificant now. But he read off anyway. "Down to earth—athletic—sweet—loving—beautiful—handsome—smart—fun—funny."

Alfred laughed so suddenly at that. "Damn, Ivan—I'm beautiful and handsome?! And smart—boy, I haven't been smart in a hot minute!"

Ivan let out a hearty chuckle at that, glad Alfred was back to his nice, playful mood.

Soon the laughter died down, and Alfred turned back to give Ivan a gleeful, sweet grin, which the Russian gladly returned.

"So," Kiku spoke up, "do you see why that's called 'the core' now? It's because you're letting all the negative emotions you're feeling in the moment distract you from why you really began to love your partner in the first place.

"When you guys get home, if you feel ready, I want you to cut out the outer circle—all of the negative emotions—so that you're left with just the inner circle," Kiku smiled. "That's your homework."

He looked back at the clock. It was 4:00 on the dot. "Well..." Kiku stood up. "...our session's up. Have a good day, Ivan, Alfred." Alfred noticed how Kiku had said his name with a weird tone in his voice; he couldn't place exactly what that tone was. Typical Kiku. And, as quickly as the Japanese boy had said that, he packed up his things and was off—also typical Kiku.

Still left with their papers, Alfred and Ivan looked at each other. "Well, now we gotta report back to Mr. Green," Alfred said. "About whether we'd go back again."

"Right," Ivan said.

The two boys stared at each other for an unusually long amount of time, standing together so that their papers touched, and walked out the door diligently, in a single file.

••••••••

Alfred and Ivan walked tentatively into Mr. Green's office. Surprisingly, the large man was up and moving, seemingly busy; he walked hurriedly, with a whole stack of papers in his hand. However, he abruptly stopped when he caught sight of the teens. "There you boys are!" he said. "Right on time, too. Hold on a minute—I just need to go do something real quick."

When Mr. Green came back from running his errand, he sat at his large brown desk and folded his hands with his shoulders hunched; his trademark pose. "So, boys...how did it go?"

To Ivan's surprise, Alfred spoke up before he could. "It went fine, actually," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I liked the little exercise we did." He held up the large pieces of paper with the circles on it for reference.

"Cute," the principal commented, as if Alfred were a kindergartener that had just shown him a cute little craft. "So..." he drawed, raising his eyebrows, "would you boys consider going again? For regular sessions?"

Ivan and Alfred glanced at each other, again making a decision with their eyes. "Yeah," Ivan spoke up. "I'm up for it."

Mr. Green nodded. "Is this a mutual 'yes,' Alfred?"

Alfred closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and almost cringed as he answered, "...Yes."

"Great!" Mr. Green said. "We'll see you again on Thursday, then!" He then dismissed the two boys, told them to have a nice rest of their day.

After they'd gotten their things out of their lockers and zipped up their hoodies, Alfred and Ivan began to chat as they headed out the door. "That was actually kind of a neat exercise Kiku did with us," Alfred said.

"Yeah," Ivan agreed. "Kinda eye opening."

"Thanks for thinking I'm handsome," Alfred said, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. He smiled wickedly.

Ivan laughed. "You know you're always handsome, babe. And thanks for thinking I'm cute."

"Don't need to thank me. You're the one that's cute as hell." Alfred held open the heavy school doors for Ivan.

They continued to chat until they were about halfway to Ivan's house; they always came here first when they walked home from school, one reason being it was closer. "So? Are you free to hang out?" Alfred asked, nodding ahead towards Ivan's street, just a few blocks down.

"...Um, no. I have something I have to do," Ivan replied quickly.

"Oh. That's okay." Alfred thought about the piece of paper in his backpack. When you guys get home, if you feel ready, I want you to cut out the outer circle—all of the negative emotions—so that you're left with just the inner circle. That's your homework. "I actually have to do something, too."

Ivan cocked an eyebrow. "Sports?"

"Naw. Something else."

Alfred walked Ivan home as normal, bidding him farewell as he began to walk in the opposite direction toward his own home; something he rarely did, because he always went to Ivan's after walking with him to his house.

But tonight he had to do his homework. For once.

••••••••

Ivan walked through the front door of his home, smelled the familiar fragrance of his mother cooking something delicious in the kitchen, heard the familiar purring of the family's thin gray cat as he brushed against Ivan's ankle.

Ivan smiled, kneeled down, and began to coo at the cat. "Hey, Stone." He scratched the cat on his pink ears, his prickly back, his long, long tail. "Stoney Stone Stone." He'd been named so because Katyusha, Ivan's older sister, had insisted his fur color matched the color of a stone exactly; no one else could think of a better name for the cat, who'd been a stray, waiting by the trash cans every day for Ivan's father to come home from work in the evening because the man always gave him scraps. So Stone he remained. Ivan's mom, feeling pity for the poor cat, saying over and over he looked like a skeleton, had gladly welcomed him in. It was shocking that Stone didn't poof up overnight, he was pampered so much; it seemed he would always be a "skeleton" cat, despite the love, food, and attention Ivan's family had given him.

"Ivan, dear?" his mother called from the kitchen. "Is that you? Are you hungry? Don't worry, dinner will be ready soon. Do you want a snack to hold you off until then?"

"No, I'll just wait til dinner, Mama," Ivan said. "I have something I need to work on."

"Okay, sweetheart." Ivan looked over into the kitchen, saw his mother smile at him. He smiled in return, and headed up the stairs.

Setting his bookbag gently by his bed for once, instead of just throwing it in any direction like he normally did (and then later placing it neatly by his bed frame, when he felt like it), he zipped it open and dug through it until he found the large piece of paper, with the black marker on it, and all of the adjectives he'd used to describe Alfred. The good adjectives and the bad adjectives.

Ivan sat at his desk and pulled out some scissors from the little drawer. He huffed, taking a deep breath. He looked one more time at the outer circle, what he'd written about Alfred. All so negative. Basically telling him he didn't love or care enough, even though Ivan knew he did, he did—he just had a different way of showing it than Ivan had pictured in his mind when they first got together.

He took the scissors and began to cut it. Slowly at first, and then his tempo sped up and eventually he had cut it all. With all his courage, his heart beating strangely fast, he ripped it up and threw it in the trash can.

For some odd reason, in the back of Ivan's mind, he was reminded of when Alfred had given him that little note while he was in in-school suspension, the one that had his address on it, and how he'd ripped it to shreds right in front of the ISS teacher's face, and threw it away.

Ivan pushed that thought deeper into his mind as he was left with just the little inner circle. He looked around his room skeptically. Where to put it, where to put it?

He decided to keep it in one of the side drawers of his desk, right where he kept his art supplies. That way, he'd never forget where it was.

Ivan then slowly went to lay stomach-down on his bed, thinking about how much he loved Alfred.

••••••••

When Alfred was alone, and safe in his room, he immediately went to dig out the piece of paper from his school bag and a pair of scissors. He sat on his bed, legs crossed, and his hands trembled as he began to cut.

He cut out the outer circle, slowly but surely throwing away all the ugly, negative things he'd thought about Ivan. Words and phrases that made Ivan sound like a monster, though he wasn't—not in the slightest. Alfred realized that Ivan just cared about him in his own way. And—even though he did wish Ivan would stop being so overbearing all the time—Alfred knew he did it just because he loved him. A little too much, maybe, but Ivan still loved him.

After he was done, he threw away the spiraling white scraps and put away his scissors. He looked up towards his wall—and smiled. He knew exactly where he was going to put the remaining inner circle.

Alfred put some tape on the back of it, and looked up at the drawing Ivan had given him so long ago; well, really only almost a year, but it seemed longer than that. The drawing that Ivan had given him at the skatepark when they'd confessed their love. The one of him with the golden dirty-blonde hair, the ocean-blue eyes with a twinkle and a wink in them, the big white-teethed grin, the yellow stars. Alfred could see some of the red crayon through the paper, on the back of the drawing; I love you, Alfred it read.

He grinned, and taped the inner circle, the "core," right next to his drawing. He stood back to admire his work. Yes...it went perfect there.

Alfred decided to call that part of his wall, with the drawing and the circle, his "Ivan wall."