"Alfred, please!" Kiku manages to grit out, a bit breathlessly. "Slow down a little!"
His knuckles are white with anxiety as he grips the armrests on either side of him. He can see the statistics flashing before his eyes, the stories he's been told, the videos they've watched in class…
The passenger gets hit…the passenger always gets hit…always…
As if sensing his train of thought, Alfred slows a little. A few more seconds and he actually stops. Kiku is curled in on himself, eyes screwed shut, braced for impact. It isn't until he feels a warm hand on his shoulder that he gathers the courage to allow his eyelids to flicker open.
They're in front of a house, a fairly small one. Not much larger than his own. It looks vaguely familiar, and Kiku knows then that he's been here before, albeit not in quite some time…
"I didn't know you were so afraid of cars," Alfred muses aloud, a fragment of an apology interlacing the words. Kiku returns his attention to the blond.
"I'm not, I just…you were going so fast, I-"
"Thirty-five isn't that fast," Alfred interrupts, a little concern entering his tone. "It's above the speed limit, but…" He trails off, waiting for the other boy to supply the information in question.
"I…" Kiku sighs, uncurling a bit until his spine rests back against the seat, but he keeps his head down, looking away. "My brother…is not the best driver. I just…I just…"
"I understand," Alfred inputs, saving his friend from another several minutes of stuttered explanations. "You should've told me. I'd have been more careful."
"It's all right," Kiku responds, and he means it. The tremors are already gone for the most part, and his mind feels clear for the moment, fear having chased all his thoughts away.
"Come on, let's see if anyone's here yet," Alfred gets out of his door, Kiku emerging from his own before the blond can make it over to his side. He's glad to be on solid ground again. It feels so safe, so firm beneath his feet.
There are other cars parked in the driveway, around four or so at first glance. Kiku wonders if his friend truly hasn't noticed, or if he just doesn't care to mention it.
In his previous panic, Kiku forgets to be nervous about entering the party. He subconsciously knows other people are there, besides Arthur with whom Alfred lives. He knew that from the moment he saw the cars. But for whatever reason, the information doesn't register, doesn't take that last step from thought to reaction. Not until he walks in the door, that is.
"Kiku!" comes an excited cry the moment the shorter boy steps in the door. It's followed in quick succession by two arms wrapping around him in an embrace, so swiftly, in fact, that he is unable to prepare retaliation.
"A-Ah…Feliciano," Kiku stutters out, trying his best to convey his discomfort at being hugged, while subtly attempting to remove himself physically. "It's good to see you, too, but if you would please-"
An exasperated sigh is heard from behind the ecstatic Italian. "Leave him alone, Feliciano." The voice is gruff, but softened with a sort of exasperation formed only through years of repetition and the admission to oneself that sometimes, things will just be as they are.
"Hey, Ludwig!" Alfred greets with a wave. "I didn't expect to see you here. Or Feli, actually. Not that I mind you guys being here, I just-"
"My brother wanted me to come," the tallest male explains promptly, running a hand through his slicked back hair. "He said I needed to get out of the house more." There is no disguising the slight sarcasm in his tone. Kiku has to wonder at the cause behind it.
"And you invited Antonio, so he ended up asking Lovi to come with him, and Lovi would only come on the condition I came as well, because he wanted Ludwig to come so that he could play against him," Feliciano elaborates in a string so fast, its intelligibility is a bit compromised. "Though, I would've come anyway, since Ludwig was coming. Ve~…I didn't think you were coming, Kiku. Not that I'm not glad you did, I'm just a bit surprised, I mean, you normally-"
"I am having some computer troubles at the moment," Kiku responds, having slipped away from the Italian during his dialogue. "I had nothing else to do, so I figured…"
Feliciano nods understandingly, with a slight bit of sympathy. He knows enough about the Asian to know this must be bothering him more than he is letting on.
"Hey, potato bastard, get the hell back in here!" comes the unmistakable voice of the other Italian. What a wonder two brothers can be so different. "I was in the middle of kicking your ass, and now you're afraid to come back and face your doom!"
"I hope you don't mind that we started without you." Ludwig runs a palm over his face, as Feliciano continues with his justification. "My brother was just so excited to play and-"
"It's fine!" Alfred waves a hand dismissively. "The more the merrier. Anyone else-"
"Francis, you stay on your couch, I stay on mine," comes an answer from the other room. "That was what we agreed on."
"Relax!" comes the response. "I am just sitting next you. Surely there is no harm in that?"
"There wouldn't be, if that were all, but you don't-"
"I think that's most everyone then. I was going to invite Yong Soo, but on the off chance you were coming…" Alfred smiles at Kiku, before heading off towards what is presumably the kitchen. "I'll get snacks!"
Kiku stands there for a moment, as Ludwig goes back into the living room. Not only is he glad his friend ended up not inviting the Korean, he is surprised Alfred has shown such foresight. It is not a common occurrence for him. Still, it is no secret that Kiku is not very fond of Yong Soo. It isn't anything personal, really, just how the other acts in his presence. Kiku is sure the boy must be quite pleasant around others, but his lack of respect for Kiku's…personal space is something the Asian was never very fond of dealing with.
His thoughts are interrupted by a gentle tug on his wrist. With a start, he realizes Feliciano has been talking to him, though not in a way that requires that much attention. He is currently convincing himself of the possibility that Alfred will let him make some pasta, as long as the other has some, which he is sure he must because everyone has some sort of pasta, somewhere, unless they are unable to eat gluten, but even then there are alternatives, and that is not very likely anyway…
Kiku follows along behind the other, nodding in a mixture of amusement and vague agreement. It has been awhile since he's seen Feliciano, or any of his other companions, outside of school. He wouldn't say he has missed them, exactly, but it is nice to see them again.
His older brother was right, as much as he hates to admit it. It is about time he got out of the house to interact with people in real life.
"Alfred!" They are in the kitchen, now, Feliciano making his way across it to the shelves and going through them without a qualm, searching for the desired item. "Do you have any pasta? I was wondering if I could make some."
"Uh…sure," Alfred pokes his head out from the cabinet he's currently looking around in. "There should be some spaghetti in that middle cabinet, there." He grabs a few more items, adding them to his pile of junk food, before scooping the lot into his arms and making his way back towards the living room.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Kiku asks, bobbing along next to his friend, anxious of the precariously balanced stack. It isn't the weight he's worried about—Alfred is strong enough to carry it all, no doubt—but rather the physics of the situation. That many boxes shouldn't be able to stay that way without falling over. Especially at the rate the blond is walking.
"I'm fine!" the taller boy insists, and so he is, managing to settle all the foodstuffs on the coffee table with nary a mishap. "Just grab a seat somewhere, and relax. Make yourself at home!"
Kiku carefully makes his way into the living room, careful to avoid the game console wires strewn about as he makes his way over to an empty seat on the farther couch. Consistent shooting sounds from the system, with even more nonstop shouts from those playing: Lovino, Ludwig, Gilbert, and Arthur from the looks of it. That's odd…he never put Arthur down as the videogame type. And Halo, of all things. Not a bad game, but definitely not something he would have put up the older boy's alley.
And so the evening passes, Kiku eventually cycling in to shoot his fair share of Flood and whatnot. After a while they switch to the Wii. Feliciano comes in with his vat of spaghetti, scooping nearly half of it into a bowl for himself before squeezing onto the couch between Ludwig and Gilbert. He snuggles up to the former, ignoring the fact that he is playing, quickly maneuvering his character away from Lovino's.
The older Italian is shouting all manner of insults, particularly something about the German not deserving Mario as a character. Kiku does his best to help Ludwig out by sending Marth after Lovino's character, which is Luigi, ironically enough.
At some point, Kiku begins to feel a bit drowsy. He struggles to stay awake by concentrating on the game. It's not his turn to play, and watching does little to keep his attention. He needs to stay awake, he thinks. Not only would it be rude to fall asleep like this, but he also needs to get back. It must be getting late, and as much as Yao always wants him out of the house, he also wants him back at reasonable enough times, so that he can go to bed without worrying about his younger sibling.
Last he checked, it was nearing 11. Surely it must be well past that by now. He'll ask Alfred about it as soon as this game is over, as the blond is playing in it. As soon as it's over, he tells himself, his eyelids drooping closed longer and longer with each blink growing slower and slower. He's surprised the shouts and general noise are not doing much to keep him awake. The couch is so comfortable, and the temperature is so pleasant. He was up so late studying last night, and getting up early this morning for school. He feels so impossibly weary all of a sudden, and his eyelids continue sliding shut…feeling heavier…and…heavier…
Without really registering it, Kiku drifts off into a deep, dreamless sleep, all thoughts of leaving and social anxiety fading immediately. Along with those of his computer.
I warned you not to count on regular updates. I've been busy, really, is all. And my muse has been absent, though I'm not sure if my ability to write has come back with it. I hope this chapter came out well, and I apologize for the vagueness on Halo. I only ever played the first game, and that was quite a while ago, now. Super Smash Brothers is definitely more my thing.
Thank you to all that have reviewed. It's heart-warming to hear all the little anecdotes people have about their computer troubles. It is a difficulty we all share at one point or another, I think.