Hello, and welcome to the second chapter! I really have no clue where this is going, except for a few plot twists in the future so please stay with me as i try to get this thing started!

THIS IS A ROUGH VERSION BECAUSE I CAN'T UPLOAD THE BETA'D VERSION AT THE MOMENT.

Thanks to: ShiroIchiHichi, REMULA BLACK, alguien22792, DerSteppenwolf, banana muffins3, PhsycoticYuki367k, and foliagel for welcoming this story to the fandom and giving it a chance!

((Also, i wrote tete de merge as a translation when it's actually tete de merde. Blame autocorrect))

"SCORE!"

Gilbert cheered loudly as a particularly good shot stuck to back of the target's head. The stuffy looking business man who had been targeted went about his usual work, unaware of the spitball that clung to his hair. Gilbert snickered as Lovino lazily checked off the score on a napkin.

"Potato bastard's brother: 13, Hamburger bastard: 12" he said, reading aloud round 1.

Al pouted childishly but offered a brofist to the Prussian, which Gil enthusiastically returned. From his seat at a table off to the side, Arthur took a long long sip at his tea. This was what, his 5th cup since the group had settled down outside the cafe? In the past 20-30 minutes they had accumulated into a huge mess of talk as well as a raging spit ball war. Arthur picked up the tea cup and began wishing that the cafe served alcohol, or at least a good glass of scotch. He peered over the rim of the tea cup as he drained it. Alfred, Gil, and Lovino were immersed in a battle with Antonio looking in once in a while. Feliciano, Ludwig and Francis all sat across of Arthur, chattering meaninglessly while Antonio proceeded to fill the Brit in during his remaining time. It was quite stressful but not unwanted. Arthur didn't mind the company at all and he supposed that it was time he got used to it. They were a lively group, after all. The Brit glanced over to his right to find Matthew sitting quietly, a book in his lap. He and his brother certainly were different. The Canadian looked up when he felt Arthur's gaze land on him and offered a shy smile.

"Sorry about all of this" he said, waving a hand in the general direction of Round 2 of the spit ball war.

"No, it's not like it's your fault. Arthur replied "And Gil's always been like that"

Matt shrugged, a faint smile tracing the curve of his lips. He and Al had grown up in the city. Well, for the better part of their lives anyway. In truth, Al and Matt hadn't started living together until they were 11. Their mother and father had divorced when they were young, their father taking Matt and Al being left with their mother. The twins' father died when they were 11, returning both of them to their mother's care once more. But they had always been close, brotherly bond or not. Matt fell into silence as he watched his brother and Gil duke it out. Arthur caught hold of the silence and slowly turned to look back at them. Gil was laughing, his red eyes bright with excitement. The Prussian had always seemed younger than his years. Maybe it was the fact that he acted that light hearted or just because he had that vibe. But even he, next to Alfred, had a sense of maturity, of experience around him. Alfred was all energy and impulse. His face angled against light, giving his eyes a certain spark so that they shone even through the sheen of his glasses. He was the pure image of 'new life' and his entire existence seemed to verify that fact. It intrigued Arthur, how someone could personify such a thing. How he could contain something so free. The Brit was torn mercilessly from his thoughts as a loud voice pierced the air.

"Arthur!"

Arthur turned curiously around to see a woman walking towards him, her arm looped around the curve of a tall man's arm. She was slender, with long chestnut colored locks framing her pretty face. Long soft bangs were kept away from her sparkling amber eyes with an orange flower pin as she hurried into a sprint walk. The man at her side was a tall brunette with a strange curl of hair sticking up stubbornly and brilliant violet eyes behind thin glasses. He easily slid into step with the woman as they nearly sprinted towards the group.

"Elizaveta? Roderich?" Arthur said, almost surprised.

The pair reached the group as Arthur and several others stood up to greet them. Elizaveta enveloped Arthur in a warm hug and Arthur immediately hugged her back, feeling the sisterly, almost motherly, warmth. He had gone to high school with her and her dominating personality as well as happiness kept her a close friend of his. Even after they had all gone off to college, in the same University for multiple reasons, she remained a friend in time of need. She pulled back from the embrace and set her hands on his shoulders, searching his eyes with her own glowing amber ones.

"Goodness, it's been way too long Arthur!" she said earnestly.

"Hello, Elizaveta. It's good to see that you're doing well" he replied, smiling a little.

"I should be saying that to you, ostoba!" she shot back, her tongue as sharp as ever.

Arthur chuckled as she pulled her hands down to make room for the man she had arrived with. Roderich stepped up and extended a hand in their usual greeting, smiling as his violet eyes sparkled. Arthur hadn't met the pianist until his freshman year at the University but since Elizaveta and Gilbert had known him since they were children, Roderich quickly became a part of their inner circle. The pianist often helped Arthur when he was writing, whether it was for class or just for fun. He truly seemed to confirm the fact that a single note could say more than a thousand words. Arthur shook his hand.

"Nice to see you again" Roderich said, raising an eyebrow.

"Likewise" Arthur answered simply.

Now that the formalities were over with, Roderich seemed to almost subconsciously reach down to take Elizaveta's hand in his own. The two had been a couple for quite awhile now, even before Arthur had left them. In the motion, Arthur noticed the quick flash of silver and diamonds. Now that he looked closer, he spotted a silver band between their interlocked fingers. After a barest moments hesitation, he put two and two together.

"You…you two got engaged?" he asked incredulously.

Elizaveta laughed at his earnest surprise. Well, now that he thought about it, it wasn't really that shocking. The two had been friends for…how long? It must've been years. They'd grown up together, their grandfathers being close friends. The men used to say that they would be inseparable, as the did everything together. But somewhere along that time line, as they grew up and learned of the world, something came between the two. They'd met new friends, new schools, and new life styles. They still knew each other, of course, and maybe ran into one another here and there, at parties and get togethers, but they weren't as close as they used to be. In fact, they'd barely come to remember each other until a few years ago, when Elizaveta and Gilbert were walking out of the auditorium after orientation at the University. Elizaveta who was a vocal major was checking out her new classes when the faint strains of piano music drew her to one of the practice rooms on the hallway. Well, it was the song rather than the sound that drew her attention, because Roderich's grandfather would always play it for her when she was a child. It was her favorite songs, as all of them knew, and to hear it again after the death of Roderich's grandfather was a bit of a shock. And so, she found him again. From there on, it was simply the course of their lives which brought them together.

"Congratualtions, both of you" Arthur said, smiling.

"Thank you" Roderich replied while Elizaveta positively beamed at him, her smile telling all the thanks that he needed to know.

The others rose to greet the new arrivals and they sat back at the table. Confirmations of wedding invitations were made and eventually Gil managed to anger Elizaveta. Well, as he always did. The two were close friends and that very friendship had managed to cultivate a fierce love-hate relationship between them. Arthur raised an eyebrow as the brunette woman ran after the man, her anger quite evident. Roderich chuckled lightly at Arthur's reaction as he sat, elegantly stirring a cup of tea.

"As always, no?" the man asked, violet eyes bright with mixed annoyance and amusement.

"Yes, as always" the Brit replied.

Painfully loud yelling reached their ears and they both cringed. Feli, France, and Antonio, oblivious to the sudden death match going, went about their usual business. Roderich sighed and rose from his chair. The way he moved told Arthur that he was used to breaking up the constant battles that seemed to spawn around Gil and Elizaveta. Arthur laughed quietly at his exasperation and waved him off. Roderich and Gil had never been particularly close, but they were certainly good friends, if not rivals. The Brit sighed into his seat and ordered his 7th cup of tea. The waiter seemed to have gotten used to being called over, since the order came in rather quickly. As he blew at the hot tea Arthur noticed a flash of color spreading on the table as Feli murmured a soft sound of down set. The iced glass of water that had been sitting to the side poured its contents over the vividly inked drawing that Feli had been steadily creating. The water made the colors bleed all over the pours napkin and thought it ruined the image, it was still aesthetically pleasing.

"It's impressive" the Brit said as he mopped up the water "Even after the spill"

The water threatened to slip off the table and the Italian quickly grabbed another napkin. Ludwig and Francis brought then some more napkins and they managed to clean up the mess in good time. Feli stepped back and looked at the ruined drawn, tilting his head to the side. It was still good, as Arthur had commented, so he hung it out to dry. In art, a mistake wasn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, it ended up better. While Feli was observing it, and idea came to mind and he turned.

"Hey, Arthur! If you want to see some more art, well real art, come here!" he said, pulling at Arthur.

Curious as to what Feli had thought of, Arthur got up and was promptly dragged to the middle of the spit ball battle field. Feli was certainly stronger than he let on. The two managed to make their way behind Lovi, who was actually not taking score. Well, not for the most part anyways. His napkins as well as the multiple napkins that littered the table were swamped in inked designs and sketches. The elder Italian looked up as he sensed their pretense.

"What do you want?" he asked, raising an eyebrow almost irritably.

"Just to show Arthur what you're doing, ve!" Feli said cheerfully, apparently deaf to his brother's annoyance.

Lovino sighed and leaned back, setting his pen down for a moment and propping his head up on the heel of his hand. A slight frown graced his lips as he criticized his own work.

"So both of you are artists?" Arthur asked, picking up a napkin and examining it.

"Art majors" Lovino corrected, considering that they had not fully reached the art enlightenment yet. "And that one too"

Feli dragged over the said other individual and Arthur looked up from the intricate swirls. To his surprise he found himself watching the young Italian holding Alfred by the upper arm.

"Him?" Arthur asked incredulously, bright jade eyes widened the barest fraction.

"Me what?" Alfred asked, glasses askew and just as confused.

"He's an art major too!" Feli explained, seeming to have accomplished his mission of gathering all the artistic talent in the group.

"Oh!" Alfred said, his eyes positively lighting up at the subject "Yeah, Photography"

Arthur blinked in total confusion. Al? A photographer? The American didn't seem like an artist at all. He was too reckless, to excited, and way too air headed. The Brit couldn't fathom how someone as impatient as Alfred could managed to stay still to take a picture much less a good one of artistic value. Behind them, the spit ball war momentarily paused with the sudden absence of the America and Gil, Antonio, Roderich, and Elizaveta came over, wondering where Alfred had gone. Lovino rolled his eyes at the sudden amassing of people and swiped the napkins off the table and into a neat little stack. Matthew and Francis followed close behind, not wanting to be left behind, completing the group. Once everyone was filed in on the topic, the conversation started up again.

"Man, Al and Feli and Lovi have got some awesome art up around here!" Gil prompted enthusiastically, perking up at the mention of the Art Trio, as they had been dubbed

"Aw, thanks bro!" Al said, flattered. "You're pretty awesome too! I mean, what with all the battles and wars and crap that you can totally pull out of your ass!"

Arthur smiled, knowing that Gil still hadn't changed his major. The Prussian had always taken a heavy amount of pride in his work, wether it applied to real life or not. The History major had fallen in love with it ever since his high school teacher had managed to get the idea of military strategy in his head. While Gil didn't seem exactly intellectual on the outside, he could rant on and on about the past world. It was a good thing, to see him light up at the mention of wars and history long gone. His favorite quote, one that Arthur had heard many times from him as well as the certain history professor, was: "History is now". And indeed it was, or so it was said to be. To put an end to the almost hostile complimenting war that was about to replace the spitball battles, Matthew strategically swiped out a deck of playing cards.

"MINE" Al yelled as he and Gil both dove for the cards.

Unfortunately, Lovino managed to snatch the cards at the last minute. He smirked as he tossed to empty box off to the side and began absentmindedly shuffling the cards at an impressive speed. He probably could have gone off and made some good money working at a casino or something of the sort.

"Poker?" he asked, knowing the answer before the words even left his lips.

"Texas Hold 'Em!" Alfred said in excited response, the barest hint of a twangy accent making it's way into his voice.

Lovino motioned for all of those who wanted to play to sit and he shuffled the deck for a final time before neatly dealing out the cards. For this first round Arthur, Francis, and Roderich were the only ones who sat out. Roderich moved to sit behind Elizaveta and watched while Francis came to sit next to Arthur.

"Now with our little américain I know he doesn't seem like much, but you've never seen him hold a camera."Francis whispered quietly to Arthur, who still hadn't said anything since his general shock over the fact "Not yet, at least"

Arthur skeptically turned to Francis, who was smiling.

"Is that so" he said, raising an eyebrow.

Francis laughed knowingly. There had been a similar reaction with almost everyone. Alfred had never really fit the stereo typical image of a photographer, which many people might describe as moody, thoughtful, and/or the poetic type. But after awhile, they found that it seemed to fit the American more and more, changing the stereotype rather than the person himself. But that was the kind of person Al was, forever effecting those around him. It was a strange thing for him to major in, but nothing that couldn't be done, Arthur supposed. He glanced over to where the game had started and wondered how many of them were still in school. If the Englishman remembered correctly, Francis was working in Fashion Merchandise while Ludwig stuck loyally to his lifetime pursuit in the area of mechanics and engineering. He discovered that the shy Canadian was dabbling in Culinary Arts, though he had been pursuing a career in Journalism before, just like Arthur was. Or, rather, had. It caused Arthur to take a liking to Matt, since they shared something in common. That didn't happen very often. And then was the third trio of their group. The Music Trio consisted of Roderich, who was practically a legend with his piano skills. He'd been playing since he was a child, maybe since he was three. But it wasn't really the length of years that determined the beauty of his music, but rather the heart he took to it. Elizaveta, a stead fast Vocal major sang with him often, her unique voice carrying lightly over the notes. Her perfect pitch would have helped her tremendously in playing an instrument but she used her voice as if it were a separate part of her body. The final member of the musicians was Antonio, majoring in Guitar. He'd started out on a rickety old guitar handed over to him by his grandfather and finally found his place in finger-style. The complicated movement of fingers that always made it sound like five people were playing instead of one, suited him. He was good at it too, not to mention using it to grab himself a few girls or guys here and there. Speaking of which, Arthur watched the Spaniard playfully attack his Italian, who in return shot away from his grasp in an obviously experienced way. Impressive speed, Arthur thought with an ironic chuckle. Then again, with Francis' grabby hands and Antonio's affection, it must have become an instinctive habit.

"How long have they been tougher?" the Brit asked curiously.

Al, who had been occupied with what looked like a lucky hand of cards, looked quickly over to Arthur.

"I think it's almost their 2 year point" he said, throwing in a couple more chips into the growing pile

"in 2 months" Gil confirmed, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his face as he glanced down at his cards.

"Oh…" Arthur replied "…it's been that long?"

"Oh, fuck it, i fold" the Prussian groaned as he threw down his cards with a loud snap, revealing that he'd had a meager 2 pair.

Al grinned sunnily, finally allowing emotion to show on his carefully managed poker face. He cautiously set his cards face up on the table and everyone who had previously been playing leaned over. Gil blinked at the cards and stood up, incredulous.

"YOU WERE BLUFFING THE ENTIRE TIME?" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the America "THIS IS NOT AWESOME"

Al practically cackled as he scraped all the chips towards him, triumphant. The other players who had folded long before surrendered their cards as Feliciano expertly shuffled them into a neat deck. With the round over, Gil sat back down and turned his chair to face Arthur.

"It's been his longest" the silver haired man said, replying to Arthurs unanswered question "One day, they just sort of found each other, and even though Lovi's a stubborn bitch, they knew that it would…well, that something would happen. I don't think i've ever really seen Tonio that happy. Not since…you know"

Arthur nodded, signaling that he needed no further explanation. Antonio had been the first, and only to date, of them to come out of the closet. It had been their junior year in high school and it was sheer good luck, that the Spaniard's good reputation, good looks, and sunny disposition had saved him. It was certainly a shock and no doubt he broke the hearts of the 1/3 of the female student population that didn't belong to Francis or Gilbert. No prior clues had been given and when the word was loose, it spread faster than word of Osama Bin Laden's death. Even his close friends hadn't known, none of them having ever really thought about it. Gil was forever in love with a pretty brunette who was permanently off limits and it was common knowledge that since the beginning of time Francis could put his hands down anyone's pants and be quite content with what he found. Love in general was an alien subject to Arthur at that time so when Antonio announced that he was no less straight than a rainbow, the group took it well. Maybe it was because he had been so open and normal about it. Maybe it was because he'd acted so naturally and calmly. One way or another, the rest of the student body took it with grudging and slightly hostile acceptance. Harsh, but still, acceptance. And even with the slow return to normalcy, Antonio had never really regained the truly happy demeanor he had worn before. He continued to be outwardly cheery but inside, they knew something was off. It continued all the way to their freshman year at the University and so on, until the period of Arthur's absence, in which he met Lovino. Arthur was happy for the the Spaniard, that things had worked out for him. Arthur was almost bitter about it. His life hadn't worked out quite as well, obviously. He couldn't help but harbor a little jealousy at how well everyone seemed to be doing. The others had had their troubles but now they had moved on, gone past the worries that life would present to them. All they had to do now was brace themselves for what might come next. Even Lovi and Feli seemed to be well off on the road towards their aspiring careers and no doubt Al and Mat were living comfortable lives, what with Mat as quiet as he was and Al being a total spaz attack. Arthur sunk back into his chair, stretching like a cat. Well, he'd gotten over the phase of feeling sorry for himself. Now it seemed a bit of a pathetic thing to do. He looked up at the light fwipping sound of a card being waved in front of his face. He frowned, a bit confused and Lovino offered a wry grin.

"Here" he said, handing him the card still facing away from the Brit "They want you to play, tea bastard"

"What?" Arthur asked, shocked

"Well, you've had like a freaking crapload of tea" Lovino explained, as if that solved anything.

Arthur glanced curiously over at Gil and Francis, who had somehow mysteriously joined the game. The two merely shook their heads and told him through telepathy that yes, the strange nickname meant that Lovino didn't totally hate your guts. It also meant that the Italian had finally gotten around to choosing a food or drink to pair with the word bastard. Arthur shrugged at the strange customs and reached for the card, looking at it warily.

"What, exactly, do you all want me to play?" he asked.

"Indian poker!" cheered Alfred, clearly excited to be playing the game, though any form of Poker seemed to suit the American.

"And what's Indian Poker?" Arthur asked in an exasperated tone.

"Its like where you get a card and hold it up to your forehead and then there's this ranking system and then you get to see the others-"

Ludwig calmly cut Alfred off in a surprisingly smooth way and nodded to Arthur.

"It's a form of gambling where everyone has a single card. It's like the game War and you try to get the highest number. But the twist is that you can see everyone's card but yours. So you may have the highest or lowest or somewhere in between. I suppose a lot of bluffing is involved" the German explained in a neat and orderly fashion "The card system goes like this: Spades is the highest suit, with hearts, diamonds, and clubs following last. Within each suit it's numbered with Ace being the highest and 2 being the lowest. So all in all, Ace of Spades is the highest possible card and 2 of Clubs is the lowest. Do you get it?"

Arthur frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to analyze the game. It sounded so complicated yet simple at the same time. He nodded hesitantly and Ludwig sighed. It was clear that he'd had to explain the game many times before. Arthur raised the card to his forehead, as everyone else had done, and looked around. Most of the cards were weak, ranging from high Clubs to low Hearts. But there was one stray Spades, a 5, that was held in the hands of Elizaveta. Oh, how scary, Arthur thought to himself, though he had absolutely no clue what they were gambling. Before he could raise the question to hand Alfred slapped down a hand on the table.

"I bet at least one dare!" he yelled, blue eyes sparkling. "C'mon, go on and bet up!"

Feliciano passed out napkins and the others proceeded to mark out the number of dares they were willing to risk. Ludwig explained that the winner of the round got the accumulated number of dares, which he or she could expend as they wished, depending on who had bet how many dares. The ultimate loser of the round was given an extra penalty. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. Oh yes, Elizaveta with that 5 of Spades was now much more frightening. In fact, he wasn't sure if it was better or worse than gambling away money. He hesitantly marked off one dare as the numbers kept soaring. He was itching to go take a look at his card, wondering if he'd been grounded with the lowest number of the deck. Oh, that would suck. Finally, players started dropping out. Feli and Lovi were the first to chicken out, dropping their fairly medium ranked cards. The next was Matthew, who gave up his painfully safe Jack of Hearts. He threw down his card with a snap as he grinned ruefully, looking around at those who were left. There was a brief period where no one moved. Arthur, Antonio, Francis, Gilbert, Roderich, Elizaveta, Ludwig, and Alfred were those left. All of them, surprisingly, stood their ground. Eventually, Roderich set down his card delicately. He had no interest in daring others and once it was revealed that he'd been harboring a Queen of Clubs, he sighed in some relief. The remaining seven players rounded off their final gambles and tossed the napkins to the center of the table.

"Ready?" Gil asked, totally prepared to sweep the game. "GO!"

All of them set down their cards, desperately looking at their own to confirm whether they had lost or won. Elizaveta cheered delightedly as she discovered that she had indeed won the game. She drew the napkins towards her and counted up her winnings, a fiend like glint in her normally gentle eyes. Her success clashed clumsily with Alfred's quite established cursing. Arthur frowned but had to admit that he was impressed with the stray German, French, Spanish, Italian, and possibly Hungarian curses. He supposed that it was a useful skill to have, if one wanted everyone in the group to understand one's anger in their native tongue. Alfred grinned in good sportsmanship as he waved his pitiful 8 of Clubs in Elizaveta's direction.

"So, what would you have me do?" he asked, slightly a slightly worried chuckle vibrating from his throat.

Arthur assumed that Elizaveta was still as good at daring as she always had been. The woman always managed to find enough information for her to turn her dares into deadly blackmails. Not that it was an entirely bad thing but it was certainly something to be feared. The Brit assumed that Alfred as well as the others had been caught multiple times in her devilish net work of embarrassing information.

"I think i'll tell you that later, dear" she said with an almost evil sounding laugh, which off set the endearment attached to the end of her response.

Al shrugged and stretched like a cat. Matthew had gathered the cards and took his turn in shuffling.

"Another round, shall we?" Francis said airily.

Arthur shook his head. If he remembered correctly, the number of dares he'd already gambled off was quite high. He didn't want to find out what would happen if he were indebted anymore, lest the dares fall into the wrong hands. Which could pretty much be anyone in the group, save Matthew, bless the boy's heart. Even sunny Antonio was well known for his 'Pirate' days. Francis pouted as he waved a card in front of him.

"Aw, c'mon Arthur!" Feliciano said, echoed by Antonio.

"It'll be fun, no? Por favor, mi amigo" the Spaniard said. "Have some fun in your life!"

"No, i'd rather not risk it" the blonde said wryly, holding his ground.

"Don't be such a buttface!" Alfred shot back energetically, his voice peaking brightly.

"A WHAT?" Arthur said, appalled.

Several minutes were spent with the explaining of the term 'buttface' or, rather, the attempt to explain. It only ended when Matthew finally managed to put an end it by yelling the word 'hamburger'. Alfred immediately shut up, momentarily distracted, but frowned almost immediately after. Matthew chuckled as Alfred whined in annoyance. The twin had found that it was a surprisingly effective way to bag the attention of his older twin. It didn't always work, since Alfred did happen to have a brain but most of the time when he was caught unaware, it was enough.

"Arthur, just play the damned game" Roderich said exasperatedly, growing tired of the arguing.

"Or i'll let half the city know about Gil's 21st birthday party" Elizaveta said easily.

"Do it Lizzie!" Gil yelled "Do it!"

Arthur's eyes widened a fraction and he sighed, scowling. Gilbert's 21st birthday had been one of the worst experiences with alcohol he'd ever dealt with. It was pure good luck that the entire city didn't already know about it, or the swimming pool full of beer, or the several other activities that were probably against the city rules and ordinances. The resurfacing of the memory caused him to wince. It was something he'd been glad to forget, though the others obviously took care to keep it in the back of their heads for future use. He dejectedly took the card but pointed it outwards, smirking just a little.

"Oh bloody hell. I'll play" he said in an irritated tone of voice. "But one of you guys go somewhere and get me a good glass of scotch or something"

"Still quite the drinker?" Francis said with a chuckle.

"Oh shut up" Arthur said darkly.

"So, are you ready?" Feliciano cut in, eager to start the round

"Hell yeah!" Lovino said, determined to win back his share of wasted dares "Bring it on, bastards"

"Oh please, like you could do anything. You fight like a panda!" Alfred shot back with laughter.

"My Lovi can totally fight!~" Antonio declared valiantly

"Against another panda, probably" the American muttered.

"What did you say?" Lovino and Antonio asked, rising at the same time, an aura resembling some sort of gang fight emanating from both of them.

Matthew and Feliciano both raced to rescue the America, for fear that the round might never start. As the betting began Arthur, who still hadn't gotten the much needed glass of scotch, scowled. He grabbed another napkin and joined in the furious betting while rubbing his temples as if to curse away the oncoming headache that was inevitable to happen. Well, shit was going down and it was about to go down fast.

By the time the game had ended, the sun had sunk low and Arthur glanced down at the watch he wore on his wrist. To his surprise, it was already curfew. He made a frown at the broken numbers on the digital surface of the watch. Curfew, at his age? The very thought of it made the Brit cringe. He sighed and stood up. Time had passed surprisingly fast. Back when he was at the hospital, it seemed like time had never existed to begin with. Every day was the same, same boring walls, same people, same everything. The sudden return to a place with time that actually moved disoriented him. The others looked up when they saw him rise, questioning looks on their faces.

"It's about time i have to go back" he said off handedly in return.

"Already? Why, mon cher?" Francis asked, aghast at why Arthur would even want to leave the party that involved him in the least.

Arthur bristled in frustration. Of course the Frenchman had to ask why. Why did the French always have to know everything? Arthur fumbled around for an answer, any excuse but he'd always been really bad at lying so eventually, after a moment's hesitation or so, he just told the truth.

"I have a curfew, bloody frog!" he said, annoyed.

Francis clapped a hand over his mouth as he tried to hide the fact that he was laughing. Gil erupted into faux coughing and almost doubled over until Antonio had to pound him in the back. When he didn't rise up immediately Elizaveta brought her elbow down on his back, hitting it for good measure. Gil collapsed and Arthur raised an eyebrow. The Hungarian was as strong as ever, probably more so than any of the men here. Which was kind of sad, but at this point, Arthur did agree that Gil needed a beating. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if all of them were only half alive by tomorrow morning.

"So then, since i have a bloody curfew, i'll be leaving" he said, glaring pointedly at Francis.

In return, the blonde threw an arm around the Brit's shoulders, laughing. The Brit had always been cranky, probably since the beginning of time or something. The reaction was the regular push, though it was strangely tired. As Arthur attempted to get Francis off of him, Gil stood up, groaning like he'd been run through a cotton gin and managed a smile.

"Curfew, hm?" he asked, jokingly, not being able to help but drag on the joke a little longer.

Arthur promptly turned around and began to walk off, only to be dragged back by Francis. Elizaveta had twisted Gil's arm behind his back and he was squirming under her grasp. Alfred was laughing loudly, turning away as he wiped away the tears that had collected at the corners of his eyes. He took off his glasses and quickly cleaned them before putting them back on. Next to him, Canada wore a torn look, like he didn't know whether to follow Al and bust out laughing or be worried for Gil's well being. A satisfied smirk danced across Lovi's lips as Ludwig frowned and Feli giggled. The only one who seemed to be quite calm was the Austrian, who was seated with a plate of torte. Roderich face palmed lightly and looked up at Arthur, shaking his head.

"Well, then, go on" he said, waving his hand towards Arthur "You don't want to be late, do you?"

Arthur sighed and threw his hands up. Really, none of them acted their age, childish as they were. Roderich even acted older sometimes.

"Thank the Queen, finally someone who understands!" he said. "And you, Gil, i trust will be dead by the next time i see you, so it was nice seeing you again. I'll bring something to the funeral"

"Hopefully not your gross foo-OW!" he yelped as Elizaveta pulled at his arm, close to dislocating his entire shoulder.

"Bye Arthur! Come see us again soon!" she said cheerily, completely unaware of Gil's pain.

The others said their goodbyes and Arthur waved back, beginning the short walk back to the hospital. When he was not too far away, he turned back one last time. The group had begun to sit back down in their seats, some sitting, some standing and some half way in-between. One of the people still fully standing was a tall blonde. He turned and saw Arthur. His cerulean eyes, even from a distance, seemed to light up. He raised his hand in a wave and Arthur raised an eyebrow in return. Al grinned and then ducked away, feeling Canada pull at his shirt sleeve. Arthur sighed and he too turned back in the direction of the hospital. It had been a strange day. But it had been a nice one.

And for some strange reason, he couldn't quite seem to forget that grin and those sky blue eyes.

Not long after Arthur had left, the Vargas brothers as well as the twins began to drift off in the general direction of the University. All three art majors were occupied portfolios to fill and the younger twins claimed to have an exam in the morning. The three men who were left behind lingered, finding that they had nothing to do and nowhere to go. And so they walked aimlessly, tracing a twisting path that somehow managed to end up at the dorms. It wasn't an unfamiliar situation. They'd walked around town a lot as high school student, pranking and causing general havoc. Some people even said that you'd see the trio coming from afar but that when they passed the familiar line up of Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio would be the thing they'd remember most. That image of their broad backs, confidently tall with heads thrown back in laughter. But today, there was no laughter. There was only thoughtful silence.

"So…how do you think he is?" Gil asked, his hands shoved into his pockets.

There was a short pause. maybe a hesitation, before Antonio spoke.

"He's still…very much Arthur" he replied "But he's not quite himself, don't you think, mis amigos?"

Francis shrugged, his eyebrow furrowing a little

"Angleterre was always, well, fiery, i suppose" the Frenchman mused "or irritated, to say the least. Now it seems like he's lost to the world. Or dead to it"

"I wouldn't say dead exactly. I'd say that-"

"That he's given up" Gil finished, lightly cutting Antonio off.

"Si" the Spaniard confirmed, in his native language, accompanied with a quick nod.

"Oui" Francis replied, following suit.

"Good" Gil said, breathing out "That means i wasn't dreaming it"

A/N: God, this was such a boring chapter and that it was really random XD. The next one will be more exciting (i hope) since this one was just introducing the involved characters. PLEASE REVIEW. I WANT YOUR FEEDBACK!