"Of course, just go! I can take care of myself, no need to worry like this!" Tino said, laughing.

He didn't expect those two sentences to have such consequences. When Peter had shared that he'd like to go and greet his cousin that was eating alone, after they went and got their lunch at the cafeteria, he had assured him it was fine if he left him for lunch and that this way they would be able to socialize with other people.

He should've shut up.

The moment the little boy not-that-little-because-he-actually-looks-younger-than-he-is left his sight, Tino felt a menacing aura coming right at him. He could only turn around before meeting a pair of eyes as icy as icebergs. He let out a tiny terrified but very manly scream and tried his best not to let go of his tray. The giant didn't care, apparently, still staring at him unfathomably.

"Y-you know it's… rude to stare at people like that, right?"

The giant, Berwald if he recalled correctly, just nodded slowly and gripped his shoulders to lead him between the kids rushing to go get their food. Tino didn't dare struggle, both because he didn't want to upset the man (boy?) and because he didn't want to lose his tray.

They got to a table, a little further in the lunch room. Three people were there. Tino recognized the blond guys with gravity-defying hair he saw in the third year section, at the beginning of the morning meeting. He was currently busy talking loudly with a stupid look on his face – were there a lot of people like this in this school? Next to him, two blond boys, slightly shorter, ate silently. Their hair was so pale it would look white or grey under correct light. The taller one wore a cross-shaped hair clip, and the smaller one had a stuffed puffin on his knees. They looked alike, especially with their same expression of boredom.

Berwald led Tino to the table, took his tray and set it down next to his. The order was obvious. Tino chose not to question and sat docilely. After all, if he could make friends the first day, wouldn't that be a good thing?

"Ooh? So that's your crush, Ber'?" the guy with raised hair exclaimed as the tallest one was sitting down. "Can I be your best man at the wedding?"

He threw a fit of laughter as the hair-clip guy sent him a gaze both annoyed and full of pity. Tino didn't know what to do with himself.

"So, what's your name, dukke?"

"Uh… I'm Tino."

"You have an accent, huh? Where are you from?"

"I used to live in Helsinki, in Finland."

"Ahah, welcome in the Nordic Club, dude!" Tino managed to smile as he high fived the hand he was presented. "I'm Mathias, from Denmark, that's where the most awesome kings of Europe came from so you can call me King if you'd like!" Tino didn't reply. "Those two are Lukas and Emil. Say hi, guys!"

Lukas, the hair-clip guy, nodded at him with a face that could look like a smile, and Emil, the puffin guy, let out a small "hi".

"They're from Norway but they used to live in Iceland because… uh… something 'bout their grand-mother… I don't remember. Anyway! Ah, I hope Berwald also introduced himself?"

"Y's."

"Did you tell him you were Swedish?"

"N'"

"Well, now it's done! Welcome to Hetako academy, kid!"

"Uh… Thanks?" They went silent and Tino started eating. He was starting to feel a little more at ease, probably from the jolly atmosphere Mathias was creating just by talking alone. At least, it worked for him. The Danish boy seemed like the most approachable out of the four of them, even though he was a little exuberant…

"Come on, Ber', you can tell us now." Tino looked up. Mathis was leaning toward a Berwald who was busy ignoring him, and scanned him maliciously.

"Wh't?"

"Come on, pretend you don't know! His power!"

Tino choked on his water and started coughing. He had to reassure the two older boys, looking at him worriedly and waiting for the fit to stop before going on. "'Bout nature. L'ke y' three. Pow'rful too."

"You detect people's powers?"

"Ahah, nah, kid! That's not it. See, your fiancé, right here, can see auras."

"He's not my… Auras?"

"Yep! Basically, he can know about your mood, your personality, your health, and all kinds of stuff just by looking at you."

Tino's eye went wide. Berwald, on his part, was eating his lunch (fish boiled in some unidentified sauce) with an absent-minded look. "Really?"

"Of course! And he can also see soul ma…"

Mathias couldn't continue for a hand was hand carefully strangling him with his own tie. The four other teens at the table watched with fascinated looks as his face turned red, then white, as he struggled with his makeshift rope, gesturing wildly at his aggressor to let him go. "Berwald, I know he's annoying, but maybe you shouldn't kill him. Murder looks bad on a CV," Lukas finally said, adding salt to his meal.

The oldest boy seemed to count pros and cons before letting go of his friend who had just started to take an interesting greenish-blue color. Tino wondered for a second if this was the usual here, and concluded from everybody's unfazed look that it probably was.

Mathias needed a second or two to get better, forcing air into his throat while frenetically undoing the piece of clothing made torture tool. Tino waiting for his to finish his previous sentence, but the Danish boy obviously knew keeping talking about Berwald's abilities might be a bit dangerous for him.

The rest of the conversation was oriented toward the three other boy's powers, the classes and the visit of the campus that was supposed to happen the next day. This is how Tino learned that Lukas could turn into fog for almost an entire minute and was also in the witchcraft club, that Emil controlled more or less the wind, and that Mathias could spill a glass when trying to control the water inside it.

There was also a moment of panic on the little Finnish's side when Emil's stuffed puffin, until now calm and unmoving on his knees like any king of stuffed toy, looked up and starting talking with a voice so bad ass he would pass as the boss of a yakuza gang with no problem. When he managed to calm down, the younger boy explained a student from their class, Long, tended to give life to stuffed toys around him when he got angry, so it wasn't surprising to found some around all the time because he couldn't bring them back to normal.

He also noticed the Danish boy kept flirting at his Norwegian neighbor who would only ignore him. All three were third years, just like Berwald. However, nobody tried to talk about the Swedish guy again. His "warning" has crystal-clear: he was the only one allowed to talk about himself to Tino.

The Finnish boy was a little bit worried. And slightly angry too. They barely met and Berwald was already so bossy with him. Seriously, he could have at least asked him before deciding he was his wife. Why did he have to call him his wife anyway? He was a boy, damn it! And he wasn't going to date a stranger, especially one that looked so menacing! So they needed to have a talk, so the Swedish boy would understand that reading his aura didn't give him some right on him!

Tino turned to his neighbor, eager to set things straight. Berwald looked at him with his icy blue gaze and a look so menacing the tiny blond decided he just might do this another time…

"Hey, Arthur! Remember me, eyebrow-jerk?"

Arthur looked up from the book he was reading while eating ("To free yourself from spells and fate", by Patrick Guérin) to see the short silhouette of Peter who just sat in front of him. His face went through a whole range of emotions, from joy to nostalgia to anger, before choosing a small bitter smile. "Of course I remember you, little brat!" he said as he pt his book down.

Anyone would be upset at the insult, but Peter just laughed. "Last time you called me that, I had knocked the trashcan over with my bike and you made me pick everything up."

"Shut up! I still covered up for you when uncle Roy found metal cans in the bushes!"

"You lectured me for him."

"You needed a lesson, young man!"

Peter smiled maliciously and started eating his fries. "We were always fighting, weren't we? I can't remember why."

"Neither can I. But you were so childish…"

"You didn't change one bit, big jerk."

"You changed even less, little brat."

Peter looked upset and Arthur realized it wasn't very delicate of him to say that now that he couldn't grow up anymore. He wanted to change the subject immediately and started to stare into his curry rice. "By the way, how are Uncle Roy and Aunt Joan? We had no news since we left."

Peter went silent for a second. A shadow crossed his face but Arthur didn't see it, to busy mixing the rice and sauce. "They're a little sick but they'll be fine," Peter finally said with a smile back on his face. "They're still in England so you won't be able to see them. They're very busy right now. They do important stuff!" he added with a hint of arrogance.

"Ah," Arthur just said. He didn't know what else to say. Peter was his cousin but he used to consider him his little brother. A very annoying, unruly and disobedient little brother, but a little brother he loved, even if he'd always refuse to admit it. At the time, they lived only a few streets apart, and since Uncle Roy and Aunt Joan worked a lot, Peter was always playing and teasing him at his place.

But this was before he moved here with his family, on Hetako Academy campus. He was only ten then, and the only child that hadn't yet discovered his powers, much to his brothers and sister's amusement, as they wouldn't stop pranking and mocking him because he was the youngest.

Carwin's Shadows gave him nightmares then, and he almost had a heart attack when Snowball, the tiny white bunny that ended up buried in the garden after an unfortunate encounter with the neighbor's cat, had appeared in his room, stumbling around, his fur all dirty with mud and blood. Allistor was so proud of the trick he had claimed guilty in front of the whole family with no hesitation. And then there was Fiona, the only girl, that was found in a coma, lying on her bed. Oscar, her twin brother, started to see ghosts, including hers, and calmly helped her to get back to her body. And this was without mentioning their mother, Bodescia, equal to none in witchcraft, and their father who specialized in green magic.

Such a crazy family that had driven him crazy many times. But still, he had always been impatient to discover his own powers. He loved helping his mother in her rituals, since his youngest age. It was a real passion, even if he was obviously not talented for spells or potions his parents created all the time.

He had to wait to be twelve before finding out he could curse people. Allister deserved it that one time. He was unable to walk out the front door without birds and rats attacking him for an entire week, and Bodescia needed all her focus to make a counter-spell. Arthur still laughed when he thought about it, but his second power came into light almost immediately. And he would have gladly given that one away.

A kick in the leg from the annoying little boy interrupted his thoughts. He backed away, by reflex, as if he was burned, before remembering Peter was from his family. He recomposed himself and chose to leave his shyness aside to spark the conversation again. "Have you been able to make friends yet?

"Yes," Peter said proudly, as if it was a big achievement.

This made Arthur smile, he knew he was showing off. "A lot?" he asked, innocently.

"Of course!" Peter said, with an enthusiasm too big to be true.

"Really? How many?" asked the English boy, maliciously.

His cousin's smile dropped as we wondered what to say. "Uh, well, I don't count my friends, you know!"

"Then tell me their names!"

"Uh, their names…" The little boy was drowning in his lie as Arthur laughed up his sleeve. "There's Tino, for one… and then…"

"And then?"

"Uh…" Peter looked around, frenetically seeking something to say. He spotted Tino, at a table with four other boys, and said the first thing he thought of. "Them! We became friends, uh… earlier!"

"Really!"

"Really really!"

"And their names?" Peter opened his mouth but nothing came out. He really was back to the wall now. Seeing his embarrassment, Arthur couldn't repress a laugh the youngest took offense at.

"Why are you asking anyway?" he said aggressively.

"Hey, I just wanted to know!" Arthur tried to calm him down. "Besides, since your small, you might get teased so it might be better if…"

"Oh come on!" Peter grouched. "You know I'm not actually eight, right?"

"Would you speak to me better?" Arthur grew angry.

"I'll speak the way I want!"

"You really didn't change! Still such a stubborn kid!"

"And you're still a know-it-all, stupid eyebrows!"

"At least I know better than you, little brat!"

"Is that why you're eating all by yourself?!" With a wave of the hand, Peter pointed at the four other empty chairs around them. Arthur grew pale for a second.

"This… This has nothing to do with it!" he eventually declared.

"Pff…" Peter sighed in annoyance. "You know what? Now I remember why we used to fight, you stupid jerk!" And without another word, he took his tray and left his cousin alone in his splendid isolation.

A few tables away, a Spanish, and French and a German were spying. "And… Stop! How much?"

Gilbert stopped the chronometer and looked at the results with an amused grin. "Three minutes, thirty-five seconds. Kesese, I think that's the first time someone stands him for so long!"

They were eight at the table. Bella was chatting with Faustina, sitting in front of her. Next to her were Antonio, Francis and Gilbert who had just had the time of their lives measuring the time Peter needed to run from the English boy. In front of them were Ludwig, Feliciano and Lovino, stuck between his brother and the Brazilian girl who didn't even look at him. That wouldn't have bothered him if the weird Spanish dude sitting in front of him didn't look at him every chance he got with a weird face. Some sort of stupid smile and a vaguely daydreaming gaze. As if he was high, but not really. Lovino wasn't sure if he should be afraid or angry, so he was both.

He would never had come to this table of his own will, but he had the duty to make sure his brother didn't get too close to the guys he had renamed "the potato-eater bastard" upon seeing the huge quantities of potatoes he had for lunch. The little brunet seemed glad to cling to the blond boy every chance he got like a clam to its rock.

He didn't really looked like that, but with his happy idiot face and childish words, Feliciano was able to get into a group of people as naturally as if he had always been there. He started with some innocent comment here and there in the conversation, asked a few question, listened with amazed eyes, and in the end, he was naturally having lunch with his new friends who were perfect strangers barely two minutes ago without anyone questioning.

"Ve… Is he really that mean?" Feliciano innocently asked as Gilbert and Antonio still made fun of the English boy.

Gilbert breathed an eerie laugh as he turned to the young Italian who started shaking. "He's the biggest threat in the academy," the albino said as if telling a horror story. "He kidnaps first year kids and uses their guts to help with his mother's potions. And if anyone tries to stop him, he curses them with a fate more terrible than the one in "Beauty and the Beast"! They call him… Cursed Arthur…"

A terrified Feliciano started to cry and to grip harder onto Ludwig's arm. A little more and he'd poop in his pants. The German boy made a face of mixed embarrassment and annoyance before explaining the scared little Italian boy it was just a stupid joke and no, Arthur wouldn't come take his guts to make a disgusting soup he'd force people to drink. Where did he get that from anyway?

Eventually, after a few more minutes of conversation more or less intelligent ("Look, I'm an awesome unicorn!" "Gilbert, take that carrot away from your face right now"), Bella decided to show Faustina the way to her classroom and kissed Antonio goodbye. "I'm going to miss you, mijn liefde!"

"No, I'm going to miss you, mi corazón!"

"I'm going to miss you more, lieverd!"

"But I'm going to miss you most, mi tesoro…"

"Damn it, get a room and stop it!"

After this very elegant intervention from an Italian we won't name, Bella finally let go of her boyfriend and left with a Brazilian dying from laughter. Francis got up as well to go tease/flirt at/bother his favorite English boy who was just finishing his food, unknowing of the plague about to fall on him.

This was the moment Lovino chose to finally ask THE question : "Seriously, why have you been looking at me like this for so long, stronzo?"

Antonio looked a little embarrassed but still didn't lose the stupid smile he wore. Lovino really wanted to punch him in the face to get rid of the stupid expression that reminded him a bit too much of his brother. "Actually, I was thinking that if your face was a little redder, it would look like a big ripe tomato with hair and it would be so cute."

"C-cosa?" Lovino nearly choked hearing this. Cute? He just said he was cute? Who did that damn fucking tomato fetishist bastard think he was? Okay, tomatoes are freaking awesome and he was the first one to claim their discovery was the best thing to ever happen to Italian food. But damn it, it was not okay to tell someone they'd be cute if they looked like a tomato! And he was not even cute, he was manly and charming like a good Italian, hah! Okay, he lacked some height and some muscle but he'd rather that than look like the Aryan bastard his brother was practically transplanted onto and even without that he was NOT CUTE, DAMN IT!

Antonio was still staring at him and his stupid expression soon changed into pure amazement. What now? "Increible… I was right, it's just… tan adorable… demasiado lindo…"

Realizing his own face just betrayed him, Lovino blushed even harder – from anger, damn it! Not like a fucking middle schooler who'd just get a compliment, okay? – and to set things straight, did what he wanted to do since he saw his stupid face : send his fist flying into Antonio's face, and the boy fell over from his chair, whining. Then he got up, brought his tray to the bin, came back, grabbed his brother by the arm yelling at him over nothing and dragged him out of the cafeteria so he could keep yelling on someone. Feliciano was still glued to Ludwig, by the way, and he had no other choice than to be dragged along despite the aggressive Italian's threats.

Antonio got up with difficulties and send a pitiful look at Gilbert who was just dying from laughter the entire time. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked, wiping the blood dripping from his nose with a paper towel."

"Nope, you said just the right thing!" the albino said without stopping his fit of laughter.

He got up, still laughing, to go clear his tray. But as he came back to the Spaniard, he tripped on something and fell over. He managed to grab the corner of the table at the last second and got up. He looked around to find what had made him trip but, besides two or three pieces of trash lying around, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

A little further away, quite footsteps could be heard as the cafeteria's door opened itself…

"Mei Wang?"

"Zhé!"

"Lili Zwingly?"

"Ja!"

"Vash Zwingly?"

"Hier!"

"Good, everyone's here."

Romulus sat his pen down. The first year students looked slightly more relaxed than this morning and there were already some chatter discreet enough to be ignored. The best ambiance according to the teacher.

He was a little nervous. Actually, it was the first time he felt this way in front of a class. Generally, he was very relaxed with kids. And he had no reason to be scared, there wasn't actual danger, was there? "Alright… Let's begin then!" he said, smiling gladly. He took the timetables on his desk and started passing them around as he introduced himself. "I'll be your main teacher this year. We'll have two hours of class every Monday from two to three fifty PM, so we'll take some time every week to talk about the class, alright?"

Nobody spoke, which Romulus took as a good sign. He was barely done passing the papers around when the door to the classroom opened again. Luna was hesitatingly standing in the doorway. Romulus gestured to her to come in and walked back to his desk to let her talk.

"Well, I see you all have your timetables," she said. "Very well, so, let me tell you about how the school works." She spoke with ease, and her melodious voice naturally captivated everyone's attention. "Classes start every day at eight and stop at ten to four. You have a twenty minutes long break at ten to ten, but teachers are allowed to finish their class during that time. Lunch break is between twelve and two, and the library is open during it. Dinner is between six and eight. Free time between the end of class and dinner should be used for clubs or homework. Inscriptions will be next Saturday. Wednesday afternoons also have a free time during which you can go see your teachers to study more on the subject of your choice. And finally, curfew is at ten, except on Saturdays and during vacations, when it is postponed to one AM at most. Questions?

No one raide their hand. Actually, no one remembered the times or took notes, but they weren't going to ask her to repeat herself. In the end, it was kind of like a normal school.

It was four PM, and there was a forty-six miles long line before the coffee machine in the teachers' lounge. At a table, Abelia Bonnefoy, the literature teacher, was rubbing her forehead, dipping a cinnamon biscuit in her cream coffee.

"So, how did it go?" said a mocking voice from behind her. She turned. Bodescia Kirkland, English teacher, was staring at her with a little grin. The blond women turned back to her coffee, too discouraged to talk back to the provocations about to fall on her. Her rival didn't buy it and walked forth. "Come on, tell me, were they nice? Didn't they talk? Nothing." No, she wasn't going to answer… She wasn't… "Mine were perfect. Even Alfred was calm, can you believe it? After all, authority should be exercised, right?" Abelia focused on the bitter taste of her drink. She glanced at the potted cactus sitting on a nearby shelf. Tempting, but no. "Come on, tell me! How was the hellish trio, huh? Did little Francis listen to his mom? What were you saying? Oh, right, "He'll never dare to act like he usually does with his mother as his main teacher, I know him better than that!", isn't that what you said?"

"… I hate you."

Bodescia's smile grew wider. She headed to the exit, proud like a peacock. "You won't brag next time. And remember you owe me three movie tickets now!" she added before she left.

"Espèce de fleur de macadam*…" Abelia growled before biting angrily into her biscuit. She bent down to get a file in her bag, and when she looked up, Afonso Carriedo, the science teacher, was standing before him and looked at her with amused eyes. He took a chair and sat in front of her. Abelia carefully drew her coffee nearer with a look that was too possessive to be serious.

"You should probably stop your bets one day, you two," the Spaniard said with his beautiful colgate smile.

"Not gonna happen soon!" Aiyanna Jones said from the copier.

There was a moment of silence. Abelia rubbed her face again before gulping down her coffee. Afonso took advantage of that by stealing the last half of biscuit and swallowing it. "I can't believe my adorable Francis has become so… so…"

"Unruly?" Folkert Bielschmidt tried from the corner of wall he was standing against.

"It's all because of those two idiots!"

"Hey, don't say that about Antonio, Abelia!" Afonso said, mouth still full of crumbs.

"But you can, about Gilbert," added Folkert, who was obviously feeling chatty.

The Spaniard turned to the tall blond man who was calmly finishing his decaf. "How was your class?" he asked daringly.

Folkert barely reacted. "We had to separate Mathias and Lukas again, Long and Andrès were moody, Berwald's diction classes aren't working, and Ludwig was perfect, as usual."

"Emil and Lukas didn't get into trouble?" Eric Bondvik asked, stirring his chocolate.

"No, why?"

"No reason."

They sent him strange looks but the biology teacher stayed silent, with a little smile, signifying no, it wasn't today he'd reveal anything about himself.

The door suddenly opened, letting through Jolan Edervari, Romulus Vargas and their animated discussion about the evolution of feminine beauty icons throughout history, or something like that. The two men vaguely acknowledged the other people around as they walked to the lockers. Jolan pulled a magazine from the monstrous mess that was his personal space, then they left like they had come. Without stopping their discussion for one second.

"Looks like Jolan has found a friend…" Khemet Hassan said with and even more neutral face than usual.

"Jealous?" Akhanta Karpusi asked softly.

"Not at all."

"Lust's eyes have secret joys…" she added, staring into the void.

Khemet stared at her, both annoyed and confused.

"Paul Eluard," the Greek woman added.

"Nobody cares," the Egyptian woman answered.

* "Fleur de macadam" is a French expression for "prostitute", so Abelia was basically calling Bodescia a bitch in a very elegant way.