"Is his chest broken?" Mathias asked nervously.

Matthew groaned.

"No," came another voice, Lukas maybe?

"Are you sure? Tino hit him pretty hard."

"You can't break a chest, it isn't a bone."

"Chest bone!"

"Breast bone, there's no such thing as a chest bone."

Matthew cracked an eye open. The two boys were looking down at him. Mathias was on his right, shirtless of course. But Mathew wasn't thinking anything remotely inappropriate because Mathias's boyfriend, Lukas, was on his knees three feet away from his face, scrutinizing his condition.

Condition.

"Going after Tino was a bad idea." Lukas told him. "You'll never win."

"Thanks, got that." Matthew croaked. The smaller boy must of head butted him or something. It seriously felt like he'd broken some ribs.

Matthew shifted and winced. Maybe he'd just stay down for a few more minutes "What was I supposed to do? Let him have it?"

"How about following basic self preservation law number 1, don't fuck with Tino."

"Here," Lukas said, handing him an ice pack.

Someone dropped down beside him. "I'm really so sorry!" Matthew turned his head. Tino was running his hand through his short blond hair, looking so guilty Matthew felt bad about showing any pain at all. "Didn't even realize what I-"

"No, I'm fine! Great actually." Matthew grunted

"That's why've you been on the ground for a good like ten minutes." Mathias asked.

"It's barely been two!" Tino snapped. He turned to Matthew "Here, I brought some ice."

Matthew forced a smile. "Thanks."

"You want to get up?" Lukas asked

Mathias grinned "He's looks like he's good."

"Get up." Lukas ordered, holding out a hand. Matthew grasped it.

"Thanks." He said again as Lukas pulled him up.

"I'll take you to the nurse." Tino fluttered around nervously. Mathew because of all the show of concern, Matthew was beginning to feel guilty himself. sure the boy had almost knocked him unconscious, but Matthew had been the aggressor.

Actually it surprised Mathew just how aggressive he had gotten during those drills.

"No, I'm good."

Mathias threw an arms around Mathew "Guttys of you though" he said, a huge grin overtaking his face

"You've said that three times already." Lukas said. He narrowed his eyes, flicking his gaze from his boyfriend to Matthew. Mathew quickly disentangled himself from the other boy. He was already injured enough as it was.

The four of them had been practicing football drills off in the far corner off corner of one of the fields. it was only now that the rest of the kids in other groups noticed the disruption. Mathew caught sight of Ivan looking up. Ivan had been seemed a bit disappointed when Matthew had joined Tino's group, but with Berwald absent, somebody had to fill his place. Someone other than Ivan. Tino had made it obvious he had some grudge against Ivan.

But it seemed like everyone had a grudge against Ivan.

"No, but seriously!" Mathias broke into his thoughts "You ever considered playing a sport."

"That's more my brother's thing."

"Nah, your great! Willing to take chances and all of that. You know Lukas and me, plus Tino and Berwald, we all do hockey."

"Ivan said something about that." Mathew said, thinking back to the first day of school.

"Yeah! Ivan does it too! And so do a few of his," he paused searching for the word."friends?" Lukas shrugged, not offering any correction. "You have to play! Come on, what do you say? I'm the captain so you know it will be a good time!"

"He's right." Tino said, coming up on Mathew's other side "You should really think about it! You'd be really good.

Even Lukas gave a nod of assent, which Matthew took as high praise. He bit his lip, trying to supress the smile he felt forming. He didn't want to seem arrogant. "I don't know."

"It doesn't start for months," Mathias said "so don't worry about it. Just, you know, if you want to get in shape, we get together on weekends to run, and lift after school sometimes! You're always welcome. "

"Okay, maybe."


Matthew was practically skipping to lunch. The year had started off rocky, sure. Detention the second day of school followed by the third and forth had sucked. But by the Friday of the second week, things were really starting to look up.

Already, he had a place to sit at lunch. Not just with a few people either, or people that didn't really notice his existence. A whole long table sat the loud and bustling domain of the band kids, and a few of them even wanted to talk to him! It wasn't like they just did it because he was there. Even now, Elizabeta was motioning quite conspicuously for him to sit on the bench across from her and Roderich. Matthew set his stuff down there.

Roderich was all business. "I'm sure you will want to sleep in Monday mourning." he said "But if we are going to make any real progress with your lessons, we ought to continue to schedule some before school, especially because actual band practice often extends after school."

"And plus Mathew might want to do something after school." Elizabeta said.

"Indeed, so when are you available?"

Mathew shrugged "Anytime, I guess."

"Monday mourning should be ideal then." Roderich said. "Any more than that, we'll work out later."

"You're not staying over at my house Sunday then." Elizabeta grumbled. There were a few 'Ooos' and someone elbowed Roderich in the ribs. He didn't so much a blink..

"So," Elizabeta said, ignoring them as well.. "How has your first two weeks of school then?"

Matthew shrugged, but found himself smiling. Elizabeta had made it her personal responsibility to take him under her wing. She would coax every little problem or complaint out and addressed them all. (At one point she'd almost gotten into a fight with some pale kid called Vladamir, but then again it seemed she took every excuse to get into a fight with Vladamir) Roderich had explained one day at violin practice that it was a band tradition. The seniors and juniors were expected to bond with the freshmen in a kind of big brother little brother way.

"Since your basically an overgrown freshmen." Roderich had said "that meant you needed one of us, I guess Elizabeta latched onto you."

"Good" Matthew said "it's been good."

Elizabeta waited expectantly, but Matthew didn't know what else to say. He'd told her most everything already. He was happy to elaborate on himself on a superficial level, but in truth there was very little excitement going on in his first week. Besides Vladimir almost tripping him in the hall because he was a douche bag and the French teacher calling him out seven different times, the last week had been uneventful.

Then something occurred to him.

"Mathias wants me to join the hockey team." He said.

"Mathias?" Elizabeta said, drawing back.

"Mathias," Roderich repeated, wrinkling his nose slightly.

"What?"

"He's such a fuckboy though." Elizabeta rolled her eyes "Kind of an asshole."

"His aspirations in life are getting an athletic scholarship and getting laid." Roderich sniffed in disgust.

"Your aspirations in life are getting a music scholarship and getting laid."

"Shut the fuck up Vuk." Elizabeta snapped. She turned to her boyfriend "Why does he hate you?"

"His aspiration in life is to assonate me." Roderich sighed

"I believe it." Elizabeta said "Back to the Mathias thing, though." The two turned to Matthew with incredulous looks.

"He and his friends are in PE with me." Matthew exclaimed. He crossed his arms and pulled his legs closer to his body.

"Ug, the Artics." Roderich groaned.

"The Arctics? Seriously? The Nordics, Roderich, please."

"One of the boy's little brother owns a puffin!"

"And you think puffins live in Antarctica.?"

"You're in Ap Biology, you tell me!"

Elizabeta waved the question away. "Whatever. Still, those kids are bad news."

"They literally get high every night." Roderich said seriously.

"You get high every night." Vuk called from a few seats up the table

"You caught him." Elizabeta snapped "He's the biggest fucking pothead in the state."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

Roderich raised his hands to the sky as if he were praying "I swear, I am going to start a world war over that asshole."

"Please do."

"That doesn't even scratch the surface!" Roderich said, coming back to Matthew. "Those four associate with Ivan Braginski!"

Elizabeta nodded vigorously and laid a hand on Matthew's arm. "You're a good kid Matthew, you don't want to get mixed up with Ivan."

Matthew moved his hand out from under Elizabeta's. "What's wrong with Ivan?" His voice had gone colder. He felt the sudden urge to hug his chest, but when he reached around himself, he realized he'd only really succeeded in crossing his arms.

"Have you, like, seen him?" Elizabeta asked. "He's a creep."

"Not to mention the shit he did to his sisters." said Roderich

"Beat them right?" whispered Emma from the seat next to him.

"Beat then?" Mathew asked in astonishment

Roderich nodded "Mhm G-"

"Someone walked in on the whole scene." Elizabeta cut in. "Girls bruised and bloody on the floor, not a pretty sight. And the the younger one was so smart to."

"Brilliant, what was her name?"

"Dunno, but she was like a genius or something, skipped a grade, private school and everything until she got transferred here. Stuck by him even while he was in juvie."

"The older one had the sense to move on though. That's what you have to do sometimes I guess. Move on."

"Yeah." Elizabeta agreed. She looked back at Matthew. "You okay?"

Matthew must have looked as shell shocked on the outside as he felt on the inside. "Yeah." He lied "I just-" he broke off. "Wow." It felt so wrong. He just couldn't imagine Ivan hurting anyone. But then again he'd only known him for two weeks, Elizabeta and Roderich knew him much longer. At least this explained why Tino acted so weird around him.

"Yeah I know," Elizabeta agreed. "crazy."

Matthew nodded. "They invited me to train with them over the weekend," he said. "But I'll probably not."

"You shouldn't." Roderich said "Plus you have allot better things to be doing on a Sunday afternoon other than working out with those meatheads. Elizabeta can take you out."

"No I can't." Elizabeta said.

"Is that so? How come?"

"Just can't."

"What are you do-"

"I'm fucking busy okay!" She snapped . "You don't need to know all my fucking business."

Roderich threw his hands up in surrender. "All right then."

There was an awkward pause as Roderich glared at his girlfriend while she wouldn't look at him.

"Sorry." Elizabeta eventually muttered.

"It's fine." Roderich said in a voice that made it clear it wasn't fine and that she had some explaining to do later.

"Maybe you could take him out." Elizabeta suggested.

"He's your freshmen!"

Elizabeta rolled her eyes "He's not even a freshmen."

"Fine!"

"Take him somewhere fun," she said "and not music related."

"Well that cuts out anything that I possibly could want to do." Roderich said sarcastically. Then to Matthew he said "What's your phone number?"

Matthew bit his lip. "I don't have a phone."

"You're a senior in high school and you don't have a phone." Roderich asked in disbelief. "Are your parents super religious or something?"

Mathew's father hadn't been to a church since his wife had died. "No, not really."

"Fine, just, where do you live? Never mind, don't answer that."

"This isn't that hard, meet someplace." Elizabeta suggested. "The school, there we go." She snapped her fingers and smiled. "Eleven o'clock in front of the main entrance."

"Oh, I-" while it would be nice to get out of the house for a few hours, going out with someone? Roderich of all people? That made him uncomfortable. Yet it seemed rude to refuse. Here these people were, trying to include mathew in a way nobody had ever done before. He couldn't just say no because the whole thing was all a little bit out of his comfort zone.

"What if he can't get to school?" Roderich asked "Not everyone lives in walking distance."

"Do you?" Elizabeta asked Mathew

"Uh, yeah I guess."

"Good, it's settled."

"No!" Roderich cried.

"What now?" Elizabeta asked, exasperated.

"I have shit to do this weekend!"

"Since when do you ever have 'shit to do'"

"Since now." Roderich wasn't looking at her. But Elizabeta couldnt very well say anything when she was keeping her own secrets. She seemed to realize that, and backed off.

"Next weekend then." Roderich mumbled.

Then the bell rang and everyone was getting up. Matthew swung his legs over the bench and lost sight of Elizabeta and Roderich. He breathed a sigh of relief. He liked Roderich, he really did, but that didn't mean he wanted to actually spend time with him. Next week. He'd deal with whatever plans Roderich will make later. Right now he had French.

French.

Great.

His steps gradually became slower and slower, feet dragging on the floor. He'd rather not go at all, but that wasn't really an option. As he neared the door he felt the amounting dread pooling inside his body grow heavier and heavier.

"Matthew Jones!" came the voice inside the room "Early for once?"

Matthew hadn't been late to class since the first day of school, yet Mr. Bonaparte always treated his punctuality as a novelty.

"Yes sir." He managed and rushed headlong for his seat.

"Ah not just yet." Matthew stopped dead in his tracks and looked fearfully up at the French teacher. "I think you'll be first for the oral translation today. Come, stand over here and read what's on the screen, then translate what's in your head back to English. Don't be shy! You can't be shy if you want to succeed at all in life."


"He reminds me of professor Snape."

Matthew glanced to his left, trying to see who had spoken. The girl across the table was looking at him. Erika Vogel, he thought. She was the sister of one of the members of the hockey team, struck him as odd that while he'd never met Vash and Erika had sat across from him for the past two weeks, he still refered to her as Vash's sister in his head.

"I'm sorry?" He asked

"Mr. Bonaparte." Erika Vogel said.

"Reminds you of who?" He asked again, not understanding.

"Professor Snape."

"Who?"

"You know, like from Harry Potter."

Harry Potter? That rang a bell. It was that fantasy novel that everyone liked that was made into a bunch of movies. "Never read it." Mathew said.

"You've never read Harry Potter?" She asked, shock clear in her vocie.

"No, not really." He shifted in his seat awkwardly. Was Harry Potter required reading for adolescents or something?

She nodded and sat back in her chair. "I see." she paused for a moment "You'd like it."

Why? he wondered

"It's just," She tilted her head for a moment and smiled. "I'll tell you why if you finish the book."

"Jones!" Came the booming voice of mr. Bonaparte. "Do you think now that you've finished your presentation you don't have to listen to anyone else's? Can't glean any more knowledge from your fellow classmates?" Matthew looked back up to the teacher, feeling a twist in his gut that felt to close to terror to be reasonable. "I suppose you won't have any problems completing the next chapter's reading guides for homework this weekend then will you?


The library was on the second floor right wing, about as far away from the auditorium as possible. The schooled had mostly emptied by the time he'd gotten there.

"Hey Matthew," came a distinct British accent from behind him. "Tell your idiot brother he better not be thinking he can push the whole history project on me. I know practically nothing about American History."

Matthew whirled around and came face to face with an annoyed looking Arthur. It was odd that the other boy had addressed him at all. It's not like they were friends, classmates and occasional teammates at best, but more aptly strangers, and worse his brother's friend.

"You remembered?"

"What?"

Mathew shrugged. "My name."

Arthur made a face "Well I am not exactly going to get you confused with your brother. You're nothing alike at all."

Matthew's tongue grew heavy in his mouth. Even though the other boy was probably as foot shorter than him, Matthew still felt the way he always did when confronted with Alfred's friends. Inadequate, like some sort of imposter.

"Not even addressing the differences in your speech or voices, you walk differently. He demands attention, you avoid it."

"Oh."

"Here," Arthur braced himself against the door and pushed inside of the library, then hesitated a moment to hold it open for Matthew. "What are you looking for?"

"Harry Potter." he said

"Which one?"

"The first."

"I see, you know, the cover art back in the Uk is so much better than the United States of America." Mathew didn't reply, so Arthur kept on talking. "I grew up in Manchester, the Kirklands are an old family, spanning from the Industrial Revolution."

Then why was he here in America? Mathew didn't want to be rude, especially because he knew all about wanting to keep things like those a secret. But it turned out there was no need to worry about being polite, Arthur continued anyway.

"My siblings and I didn't really get along. It's easier this way."

Mathew meant to ask the librarian to direct him toward the fiction section, but since Arthur was being so open, Matthew didn't see any reason not to ask him. Arthur shrugged and pointed left to a few towering book shelves. It didn't take long to find them. There were about three copies of each book. The books called the Philosopher's Stone were clearly labeled with a 1 on the spine and Matthew pulled one off the shelf.

When he stepped up to the check out, he was followed by Arthur who stood in his tip toes to get a glimpse at his book. "Huh," he said "looks like they do have the European cover art. How odd."

"I guess." Matthew said. He handed the book to the librarian and she scanned it, then stamped a few numbers on a sticker on the back.

"So what's your story?" Arthur asked. Matthew paused for a moment, book in hand, and looked down at him. Arthur shrugged "I told you mine, you tell me yours."

Matthew stiffened "I didn't ask for your story, and you barely told me anything" Well that hadn't been a rude response at all.

"Sure I did, I'm from Manchester England originally. You?"

"I don't know" Matthew replied honestly.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Arthur laughed. "You never asked your parents?"

"We move around allot."

"How come?" They were walking out the door of the library now, Arthur stuck to his side. He seemed determined to get some answers out of him and Matthew couldn't understand why. Regardless, he didn't want to be having this conversation.

"Okay, I see." Arthur nodded, smile playing on his face. "Got some secrets."

Matthew stopped walking "Why don't you just ask my brother?" It had all clicked together. Arthur didn't actually care about Matthew, he was just using him to learn about Alfred. Of course.

"Cause he's just as tight lipped as you are, plus he's an asshole." Arthur said. They were standing in the middle of the main hallway, in front of the cafeteria. No one else was in sight. Arthur continued "But it's pretty obvious that you're angry and he's guilty and you're both hurting each other."

"That's not really any of your business."

"Look! I'm not saying your guys problems aren't all his fault. All I am saying is, you know what, nevermind!."

"Kay." Matthew mumbled.

"Do you need a ride home?" Arthur asked, seemingly viciously determined to be nice.

"No, I'm good. I've got to go to the restroom anyway."

"I can wait."

Matthew shook his head. "Really, no, I'm fine." He turned toward the cafeteria, planning to hit the bathroom there. He really didn't have the urge to, but it was an easy way to try and get rid of the noisy British kid.

"Where are you going?" something had changed in Arthur's voice.

"Um," Matthew turned back. Arthur was standing stock still, eyes wide and horrified. "W-w-what?" Mathew asked, afraid he had done something horribly unforgivable without realizing it.

"There's a bathroom upstairs. Go there." Arthur ordered.

Matthew stared back confused. What was wrong with the one in a cafeteria? Surely Arthur knew there was one there.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because!" he gestured wildly out in the direction of the cafeteria. "That one" he spat the words out as if they were lemon juice "is out of service!"

It hadn't been out of service a few hours ago. But "Oh." was all he said in reply. "Okay."

"Yeah, just don't go in there." Arthur wasnt looking at him.

"Right," Matthew nodded and tried to offer a smile "no problem."

Neither one of them moved.

"Well I guess I'll see you tomorrow." Mathew said after an awkward pause.

"Monday." Arthur corrected.

"Yeah,"

"Yeah," Arthur turned to leave.

Matthew bit his lip. He'd obviously done something to upset the other boy, and Arthur was only trying to be nice. He felt guilty. "Hey, Arthur?" he called.

Arthur turned.

"Quebec." he said.

Arthur's forehead creased. "What?" he asked.

"That's where I was born."

"Right." Arthur face relaxed slightly. He hesitated and then asked "Can you speak any french?"

"No," Matthew said ruefully. "That would have be convenient."

But Arthur was far away now. He might still standing right in front of Matthew, but he wasn't truly with him.

"See you Monday." Arthur said eventually.

"See you then."


He was only half awake when he realized Tino was still angry.

There was a definite weight still pressing into his chest and Matthew struggled against it. Oh man, he really should have just let the ferocious blond boy have the ball. The game didn't matter that much.

He grunted and his eyes jolted open. Light was already streaming through the windows, it must have been already past eight at least. He'd forgotten to set his alarm. He'd stayed up all night reading the Philosopher's Stone that by 2:00am he'd just gone right to sleep .

The thing that had so tactlessly awoken him was no in fact Tino's arm or leg, but a laundry basket full of Alfred's cloths. Matthew glanced around and saw his father wheeling into the kitchen.

With a start, he threw the basket off a checked around the couch for his duffle bag.

It wasn't there.

Panicked, Matthew jumped up and ran around the couch multiple times. Still no sign of the duffle.

Mathew slowly straightened up. His gaze leveled on his father, who, predictably, was not looking at him.

"Where's my stuff." He whispered.

His father didn't answer.

There was a reason Matthew woke up early every day. If his father could get his hands on any of Matthew's possessions, he wouldn't see them again. His duffle wasn't the only thing gone either. His backpack had disappeared as well.

Matthew collapses back onto the couch and let out a suffering moan. He ended up checking the trash bin about a half an hour later, right after his father had left for work. He found the duffle bag at least in the kitchen trash can, drenched in coffee. But the bag was white and so were all his shirts. Over the years, Matthew had learned ways to around his father's punishments. He'd bleach his shirts and bag, but the pants, well, he'd have to hope they weren't stained to badly.

However, he couldn't find the backpack. Thank god his textbooks were still in his locker and the violin was locked up at school, but that still left his french and calculus homework.

Matthew grimaced.


Sunday afternoon was at least a pleasant surprise.

After scouring the house for one of Alfred's old backpacks Matthew didn't notice Alfred and his father leaving the house. He eventually did find one, but it was monstrously garish. Red, white, and blue fireworks with the words USA and 'Merca! all over it. The thought of wearing it to school was cringe worthy, but Matthew didn't see many other options. He'd just have to grin and bear it.

There was also a bunch of leftover school supplies inside. He'd had to dump all of Alfred's eighth grade classwork but all in all it was a good find. Why his father had this kind of stuff laying around was a mystery to Matthew. Was it some weirdass momento from Alfred's childhood, instead of keeping picture or trophies he kept Alfred's school work? But then again it had been in Alfred's room.

So why did Alfred want to keep all his shit from four years ago? Sure Alfred had been using the same backpack all through highschool, but did he really need this stupid thing as a spare?

No use dwelling on that now, Matthew had the rare gift of having the house all to himself. He wouldn't have to worry about leaving his stuff somewhere for five minutes and having it confiscated for good, or having to deal with either of them. Plus, it gave Mathew time to call Elizabeta without fear of being interrupted.

She picked up on the second ring. "Who is this?"

"It's Mathew."

"Oh!" She exclaimed "Hey! So this isn't really a good time."

Matthew was thankful he was only talking over the phone because he felt himself blushing. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

"Can I call you back later?" Elizabeta asked.

Matthew shook his head.

"So in a few hours?" she said.

Mathew almost knocked his head into the wall. "N-no you can't, sorry I'm busy."

"Uh," she was clearly hesitating.

"It's fine, it wasn't really important anyway." Mathew's gut twisted. He just wanted this conversation to end.

"No, no it's fine really." Then off to the side "Hey, give me a few minutes. I'll be right back."

After a second she said "So what do you need?"

"It's nothing really, never mind."

"No, really you're fine Mathew."

"I just wanted to" he paused "ask you about a guy."

Her tone turned immediately serious. "Is someone giving you trouble?"

"No, no it's nothing like that."

"Calm the fuck down!" Came Elizabeta's muffled voice. Then back to Matthew. "Sorry, the guy I'm with is an idiot." She sighed "So who?"

"The guy you're with?" Matthew asked

"I'm not cheating on Roderich! Holy shit! It's a family friend!" Elizabeta exclaimed, then again to the side "Will you shut up! Your not funny!" she sighed heavily "So what are you talking about?"

"Arthur? I don't know his last name. "

"The British boy?" Elizabeta asked.

"That's the one." Mathew said

"Ah, Kirkland, what about him?"

"He, uh, kind of freaked out on me yesterday."

"So he is giving you trouble!" She exclaimed don't worry about it Matthew, I'll 'talk' to that- This doesn't even concern you asshat! Back the fuck off."

Matthew hurriedly tried to clarify. "We're fine! I told you it's not like that!"

"Okay so what is- oh"

"What?"

"Yeah, that would make sense "

"What are you talking about!" Matthew fingers began drumming on the table as he adjusted his grip on the phone.

"Look," Elizabeta began "this is going to sound weird, but just bare with me. It was about the bathroom right?"

"How did you know?"

"Arthur's weird about shit, okay? He's been through allot." There was a muffled cough before she added "we all have."

Matthew couldn't shake the feeling he'd just stepped into someone else's home. The comings and goings of every member of the family completely foreign to him. Or more aptly, he felt as if he had just stepped into his own house in one of those rare moments Alfred and father were fighting. He'd never know why, and he would never have anything to do with those problems, but he was still inexplicably drawn in because of sheer proximity, that and the curiosity he couldn't shake off.

"Look, I have to go." Elizabeta said.

"Uhuh, well I'll-" but she had already hung up.

Mathew almost threw the receiver to the floor, but he restrained himself. Ivan was evil, Arthur was crazy, Elizabeta was elusive, and say one wrong thing and everyone suddenly shut off.

What was going on in this school?


"You know I have better things to go on a Monday mourning." Roderich blatantly lied. It was obvious, from the slight smile on his face and the spring in his step that there was nothing Roderich would rather be doing than waking up an hour and a half before school started to teach someone with absolutely no natural talent the violin.

Matthew, however, actually did have better things to be doing, like sleeping. He forced himself to smile and mutter an apology but in reality all he wanted to do was crawl into some dark corner and maybe die for a few hours.

Roderich turned to Mathew, eyes sparkling. "While you talents are less than ideal," understatement "I do believe I've taught you well enough for you to be coming along adequately." Matthew blinked, almost missing the closest the other boy had ever come to paying him a compliment. He found himself almost flattered.

Matthew was beginning to find himself more comfortable with Roderich than anyone else in the school, even Elizabeta. He couldn't exactly put his finger on why, but he thought it had something to do with Roderich's transparency. He was a perfectionist, with singular tastes and a handful to keep happy sometimes. But that made him predictable and more importantly, honest. Matthew knew just what Roderich thought about him at all times. That made it easier to know what to say.

So sometimes he'd find himself sayign things to Roderich without thinking. "So what's the point of this?"

"What!" Roderich went from content to breathing fire in a matter of seconds.

"Teaching me violin," Matthew said quickly, trying to make amends. "There isn't a string section in the band."

"Oh," Roderich said, loosening back up a bit. But the tension in the air only intensified. "Well there's traditionally a string quartet at the school and, well," he eyes skirted to the side but then snapped back to Matthew's face "There isn't one here anymore."

Matthew was tired of the secrets. Maybe he should just leave it alone. Maybe he would if all these problems wouldn't constantly be thrown in his face. Probably not, he'd always been too curious.

"Who?" He asked.

"Does it really matter now?"

"Maybe." When Roderich didn't answer Mathew hurried to add "Sorry if this is out of line or something."

Roderich fingers the leather violin case before reaching for the latch and flipping it gently "No," he said "There's no reason we shouldn't talk about it." Matthew shifted impatiently "They were a trio of hologins, ah, a pair actually. Antonio Carriedo and Francis Bonnefoy as well as Elizabeta and I."

"Antonio and Francis?" Mathew asked "Who are they?"

"They don't go here anymore. Please don't ask me to say anymore than that."

Matthew nodded.

"Right," he said slapping his hands back together. "Have you been practicing?

"Yes." Not as much as he should be, but it wasn't like he could get any worse.

"Good! How's your jaw feeling?"

Matthew nodded vigorously "Better." He said.

"Than you didn't practice!" Roderich said triumphantly "You tense up when you play, if you were doing anywhere near the amount I prescribed you'd be complaining to no end!"

"I can't take it home!" Matthew exclaimed.

"Well then stay after school!"

"We practice after school!"

"Don't take that tone with me! I'm taking the time out of my busy schedule to do you a favor!"

"Yes mom." Matthew muttered.

"Now let's see how much you've really practiced!"


"There's no fucking way."

Wait, four drops of acid? God damn it he'd put in six! No big deal, he'd just understate. They were only describing the changes they observed in the metal, no numeric values.

"What Lovino?" Mathew asked tiredly. He probably shouldn't have said anything, the last thing he needed was to be yelled at by the grumpy boy for being worthless after being yelled at by Roderich for being talentless.

"That jackass Carlos is back!"

Mathew really couldn't care less, but he'd learned it was best just to feign interest. "Who's Carlos"

"Didn't you hear me, a jackass!" Lovinio rolled his eyes and kept punching into his phone. He never seemed to get off it, but that was there arrangement. Mathew did all the work, Lovino didn't ruin his mourning.

"Okay," said Mathew.

The metal was all dissolving, maybe he would have to do it all over again. Or maybe he could just glance over at someone else's table. Of course that takes it for granted they know what they're doing.

"Fuck this!"

"What Lovino?" Matthew tried hard to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"No of your fucking buisness nerd."

"Right." Matthew nodded to himself. He'd just exaggerate the amount of time it took to dissolve.


"Carlos is back!"

Roderich winced as Elizabeta slammed her tray on the table. "Mind behaving a bit more civilized?" he complained

"Did you hear what I just said?" She demanded "Carlos is back."

"Really!" Emma said from a few seats down the table "They let his ass out of juvie?"

"He wasn't in juvie stupid!" Gisil scoffed. "He was tried as an adult!"

"Must have been let out of prison early." said Joao "Heard he was in for like life."

"Because that makes sense." Elizabeta muttered.

Roderich leaned forward toward Mathew and Elizabeta. "In all seriousness though, shouldn't he be at Suenos's Boulevard?"

"I would have figured." Elizabeta agreed.

"What's Suenos's Boulevard?" Mathew asked.

"It's the school for the bad kids." Elizabeta explained "The criminals." she was stage whispering a little too loudly to be taken seriously.

"Yeah, so why isn't he there?!" Roderich' voice had gained a note of steel and his eyes were glaring hard into his girlfriend's. Matthew looked down and saw Roderich's hand gripping his lunch bag tighter.

Elizabeta shrugged "Because he didn't do anything." Elizabeta turned toward to Matthew "Carlos and Roderich fought."

"Roderich fought someone?!" Mathew asked, flabbergasted.

"Not really." Elizabeta said "But Roderich really doesn't know when to shut up."

"But seriously, stay away from that guy." Roderich said, holding his gaze "He's trouble."


And that's when everything changed.

Walking fast down the A corridor towards the language hallway, clutching the first Harry Potter book, finished in the early hours of the mourning, to show a girl in his next class, that's how he found Mathew. They collided, still completely unaware of each other's existence, only figments in each other memories, half forgotten in times relentless passage.

Much had changed since the Invisible Boy had stumbled into The Boy Who'd Won the Plush Toy and The Boy Who'd Bought The Dippin Dots. Each were hardly recognizable, but yet they would recognize each other.

Carlos was the first to look up, slightly irritated at the tall white boy who'd so carelessly stumbled into him. He'd not yet met Alfred that day either, so it took a few second to register who the tall boy was. Matthew followed, stammering an apology that was abruptly cut off as his eyes met the beefy Mexican boy's. No, not Mexican, Cuban. Matthew felt a spark go off in his memory, a key that turned and the lock clicked.

"Carlos?"

"Matthew?"


A/N: And here, ladies and gentlemen, is where shit actually starts to pick up.

And I'm sorry for all the Russia hate, I swear he's just misunderstood! You'll understand later (way later.)