Chapter 1: Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued
Arthur Kirkland was, and had always been, a man of pride. This fact was evident in the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, and how he (almost) always had the confidence to insert his opinions into any conversation. But, it was because of this pride, that he had an ultimate fear of making a fool of himself. Which Francis tended to do for him quite frequently.
So when Francis came up to his lunch table with a girl, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Arthur instinctively picked up his tray and began to speed away.
Unfortunately, the frog stuck out his foot before Arthur could pass. The Frenchman caught the tray, and all the food on it, with ease and a charming smile. He could have caught Arthur before the teen fell to the ground, but they were frenemies and...
Well, who needed Arthur's face when there was sugar cookies?
"Hello Arthur. This is Elizaveta Héderváry. She's my friend from Art Class."
Arthur rubbed his cheek, hoping it wouldn't bruise, and looked to the new girl.
She was some mix of femininity and masculinity, the perfect tomboy. Obviously, her body shape and her hair appeased her feminine traits, but boyish characteristics found their way into her image. A light blush covered her face she flashed a celebrity's smile. Her dark brown hair framed her baby face, covering her forehead in a sideways part. From under long eyelashes, she stared up at him. But within her green eyes, there was a fierceness Arthur saw in the animals his mother cared for. He only saw that kind of gaze in a wolf's eyes before it was sedated.
Elizaveta was a fiery girl, he could tell. Her clothes were eye-catching, and rebellious in the sea of Hollister t-shirts. She wore a patched, black, leather jacket over a and ripped skinny jeans. Her dark boots were clean, fidgeting as they toed the floor nervously.
"Hi! Arthur right? You can call me Lizzy. Everyone does."
Even in her voice, there lay an undertone of willfulness. A tinge that reminded Arthur of his own voice. He took a liking to her immediately. Great minds do speak alike after all.
"Hello Lizzy. Pleased to meet you." He shook her outstretched hand and the three moved to sit down. Francis shoved Arthur's lunch at him only after he stole the cookie on the edge of the tray. After receiving an intense glare, the frenchman only winked.
"So I'll be your fashion coordinator from now on!" Lizzy said brightly. Another accusing look was shot at the French teen.
'Damn wanker.' Arthur thought as he bit the lettuce off his spork. He quickly swallowed as he realized Lizzy was waiting for him to continue the conversation.
"What did you have in mind?" Arthur had to bite down a smile as he saw Francis' expression turn into one of shock. So the other wanted him to react with an angry rant huh? Oh, no. He was definitely going to be as agreeable as possible now.
Elizaveta bit her lip unsurely as she glanced over Arthur's form. She tilted her head and pulled out a notebook, scribbling furiously. She looked from Arthur, to her paper, and back again before scratching something out and writing once more. Suddenly, she shoved a paper in his face.
"Are these your correct measurements?"
Arthur's greens scanned over the numbers on the paper and, to his amazement, not a single one was off the mark.
"Remarkable! How did you do that?"
"It takes a lot of practice kid. Anyway, Francis, he's slim but not a six-pack slim. You'll have to do something to fix that. I can't work with flab."
"I've already got someone to work with him mon chere. The problem will be solved by the end of the month. I can't guarantee a six pack but he'll be on the road to one."
Elizaveta nodded and scrawled something else down in her notebook.
"Alright, until then we'll have to be subtle in his style change. Now, we'll decide on the final effect. What style are you going for Arthur?"
The British man didn't know what to say.
"D-Do I have any specific styles to choose from?" He asked, reddening.
"It depends on whether you want me to work with a style I've mastered or not."
"We'll work with what you have mastered," Francis intervened. "We want a quick and effective result."
"Alright. Alright." The girl flipped to a different page in her notebook.
"The styles that I'm really good at are: Prep,"
Francis quickly waved the word away.
"Alfred sees too many of those guys on a daily basis. It won't be eye catching."
The girl performed a perfect spit-take, making vitamin water catch Francis in the pupil. ("Sacrebleu!") Her eyes widened as she turned to the Brit.
'You have a crush on Alfred F. Jones? The star of almost every athletic team in this school?'
"I do not have a crush on him!"
"Have a crush on who?"
All three heads swiveled to find the man in question looking at them curiously. Tino was right by his side, Arthur noticed with disdain.
"No one Al. It's nothing. We're just…debating over something."
"Can I join?" Arthur's stomach twisted as Alfred's smile went up excitedly. And-oh no-there were the bright, puppy dog eyes that begged him to comply with whatever Alfred wished. He almost couldn't bring himself to say no. Almost.
"Oh, we wouldn't want to separate you and Tino. You two should enjoy your lunch period."
For a moment, Arthur thought he saw a flash of hurt cross the blonde's face. But then Al simply shrugged, banishing all sense of concern.
"Alright. Come on Tino."
"Coming Alfie!"
ALFIE?
Cursing everything he could think of, Arthur stabbed his salad repeatedly. When he felt the gaze of his company, he barked,
"What?"
"Dude, you're, like, totally jealous."
"I am not!"
"Mon ami, your face is crimson. You were grinning when you saw Alfred, frowned when you saw Tino and absolutely grimaced when you heard the boy say 'Alfie.'."
Francis smiled as he leant back into his chair. The damn prick was proud of his observation. Despite the fact that it was totally false.
"La jalousie tis. Anyway, let us get back to business. Arthur can't go 'Prep' and he can't stick with his current metro sexual look. What else do you have?"
"Mmm…Jock?"
"He sees too many of those too."
"Gothic?"
"We want to attract him, not freak him out. It'll stand out though. Something close to that."
"Dark Lolita?"
"Colder."
"Scene Kid?"
"Warmer. He'll get beat up though. We don't want that. You know how our school has quite a bit Anti-scene and emo petitioners.
Elizaveta sighed.
"It's a shame too. I would've loved to give him extensions and a girl's raccoon tails."
Arthur didn't even want to know what she meant by raccoon tails.
"How about we make him a Mod?"
"It wouldn't be too much of a change for Arthur now would it?"
The girl pursed her lips, racking her brains for another option. Both blondes looked at her in silence, Arthur quietly fuming and Francis smirking softly.
"How about a punk rocker? You seem pretty free-spirited. It could work out."
The Hungarian looked to Francis for approval. His growing smile was all she needed for confirmation.
"I concur."
Elizaveta clapped her hands happily.
"Awesome! I'll get some CDs to make sure Arthur's familiar with the entire music scene before we dress him up. Let's see; I have The Clash, Green Day,…"
Punk rock? He knew a bit about punk rock. Although, he only really listened to the classics. The Ramones and The Misfits were what he had been listening to as far back as he remembered. Back when he and his older brothers had a relationship healthy enough to sing 'I want you around' or 'Anarchy in the UK' aloud in a lovely chorus. He knew all the lyrics to Rock N' Roll Radio and Die, Die My Darling, but had absolutely no idea what the Hungarian girl was spouting from her mouth.
"What the bloody hell is a Fall Out Boy?"
Green eyes stared at him like he grew two heads.
"You're not familiar with punk rock?"
"I've been listening to Punk Rock since I was conceived. I was rocking out to Sheena Is a Punk Rocker in the womb. I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sheena is a Punk…Oh! That's a Ramones song! You're into the originals! You've got the roots. I've been listing the modern, alternative bands. Wait, you probably like the Sex Pistols and God Save the Queen and all that jazz right?"
"Yes. What of it?"
Lizzy wrote another piece in her notebook.
"Just making sure we're on the same page. I'm probably going to introduce you to some more modern bands so be prepared. It's not going to be 'Punk' per say, but it's as close as this generation's going to get. Keep an open mind while listening. Don't just put down American Idiot as soon as I hand it to you."
It took Arthur a moment to realize it, but he eventually connected the album name to his memory.
"That's a Green Day CD."
Elizaveta appeared surprised, yet pleased.
"You know of them."
"My brother, Draco, loves them. I only really liked Dookie at first though. It took me a while to adapt to the other albums."
"Oh! I love every album Billie Joe puts out! I used to worship the ground he walked on while I was diving into the punk rock music industry."
"You like Armstrong? I admire Tre Cool really. He-,"
"As much as I am overjoyed to see that you two are getting along," Francis intervened, slamming his fist on the table.
"I'm afraid Arthur and I have an English Honors class to get to. When can we meet next Elizaveta?"
She twirled her hair around her finger as she hummed.
"Well, Roderich will get mad if I don't eat lunch with him again, so definitely not in our lunch period for the rest of the week. Unless you bring Arthur to sit with the rest of us. I suppose we could meet and actually go shopping for clothes on Friday? Right after school? I can't do Saturdays because that's when Roddy and I practice or go on dates."
"Friday will work." Francis confirmed, not giving Arthur a say in the matter.
"We'll drop off the stuff at my house instead of yours mon chere. I know your mother won't take well to you having clothes all over your room."
Elizaveta smiled at the Frenchman warmly, almost turning Arthur straight.
"Thanks Fran. I'm glad you remembered. Oh! Roderich's here to drop me off at Biology! Got to go guys! See you around the halls Arthur! It was great to finally meet you!"
"Goodbye." Arthur said quickly. The girl picked up her things and practically teleported across the lunchroom so she could jump into a tall man's arms and laugh. The man glanced at Francis and Arthur through his spectacles and gave them a small smile. Arthur returned the grin with a polite nod and looked away as Elizaveta arranged her boyfriend's dark locks back into place.
"We should get going too Arthur. I would hate for us to have to miss English." The Frenchman pointedly beamed past him. Feigning the act of picking up a dropped item, the teen gave whoever was behind him a discreet sideways glance. Mr. Kyouya gave them a solemn nod as they began to leave the lunchroom, clutching the tonfas he carried everywhere menacingly.
"That teacher seriously scares me sometimes."
"He's not as frightening as Bianchi from Home Economics though. Ugh, her cooking is terrible!"
"It's almost as bad as yours!"
"…You didn't have to eat my scones if you didn't like them Francis."
The Frenchman grinned and ran ahead of Arthur before saying,
"I didn't know they were going to taste that bad. The stones left such a horrid taste in my mouth."
"Oh ha-ha. Very witty. Your play-on words is absolutely hilarious."
The two remained silent as they wove through a hall of students. Absentmindedly, Arthur glanced around. When a sign in the library window advertising a chess club meeting caught his attention, he realized something crucial.
"Francis."
"Yes?"
"This isn't the way to Sophomore Hall."
"I know. We're going to the rooftop." Before Arthur could protest, Francis grabbed his hand and rushed him through the huge crowd, dodging jocks, flying books and teens on skateboards. Arthur struggled all the way up the stairs and through the corridors, yelling, "Release me you git!"
Francis stopped at the door that led to the rooftop, rapping his knuckles against the metal. Arthur heard a groan and a bit of shuffling before a languid voice asked,
"Who is it?"
"It's Francis Gil. If you would please open the door."
There was another moan and Arthur listened to this 'Gil' character ask,
'Could you get that for me Mattie?'
The Brit couldn't hear Mattie's reply but got a full view of the teen when the door opened.
He was Alfred's step-brother and Francis' cousin. Arthur and Matt had met on a few occasions and Arthur found him rather sophisticated and neat. But, his current appearance contradicted that assumption. His red hoodie was sloppily thrown on. The maple leaf on the front was barely distinguishable with all the folds. His golden hair was mussed all about the place and his glasses were askew.
The uptight student was absolutely revolted with his appearance, but Francis just laughed.
"Did you have fun mon cher cousine?"
"O-Oui." Matthew managed to stammer out. He gave Arthur a brief, flustered nod and sped away, a furious shade of red.
As they strolled up the stairs, Francis' low chuckle trailing them, Arthur caught a glimpse of the 'Gil' Francis referred to.
He was an albino, but a rather attractive one at that. His snow white hair was as disheveled as Matthew's but the style looked much better on him. Instead of the average pink, his eyes were a stunning blood red, piercing the city view with a fierce glare. Arthur looked over his shirtless torso and noticed that the other was pretty fit as well. The six pack that stretched across the other's stomach made the Brit slightly self-conscious of his stature. He crossed his arms over his stomach, trying to appear stouter.
"If you would please put on your clothes, I would be grateful. I believe you are mentally scarring him."
Crimson eyed ripped away from the view as the teen sneered at the blondes.
"Screw him. If he doesn't like it, he shouldn't look."
'He says that, but he tosses on the shirt anyway. Bloody idjit.' Arthur thought as Gil reached for the white fabric.
"Arthur, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt. He's my friend or soon to be cousin-in-law judging by what my little Matthieu just looked like."
Francis' expression quickly reverted from one of pleasantry to pure malice as he finished his statement. Gilbert rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, a light pink tint on his face.
"Ha-ha. Yeah, uh, the Prussian-awesome me was a bit too much for Mattie today. We kind of got carried away."
Arthur quickly removed his hand before Francis' grip broke it. He didn't like the dark aura around the Frenchman and, apparently, neither did Gil.
"We didn't have sex of course! But, uh, yeah it got pretty heated. Heh-heh. Your cousin's got spunk. He's cool."
Francis sighed, putting a hand across his head dramatically in an attempt to pause an incoming migraine.
"Sacrebleu…never mind Gil. Let's get to business shall we? We'll talk about your affair with my cute, innocent cousin later. This is Arthur. Elizaveta is turning him into a punk rocker so he can catch the affection of his crush. You will help him with tattoos and piercings."
Gilbert looked to Arthur with a wild grin, and then burst out laughing.
"T-Turning him into a-a punk rocker! Oh, that's a good one! Nice joke Francis."
"Tis no joke." Francis said seriously.
"No. You're wrong. It is a joke." The grin in his eyes is replaced with an offended rage.
"Someone can't just turn punk rock. Do you know the kind of dedication, attitude, and interest it takes to be accepted? The awesome me had to wait 2 years before they stopped trying to beat me up at concerts. This fag won't get anywhere if he's just joining the fad to be an attention whore. No damn place on earth would take him."
There was a tense silence. Then Francis, pale as a sheet, groaned,
"You shouldn't have said that mon ami. You really shouldn't have said that."
"W-What?"
"You used the f word. Arthur hates the f word."
"What? I never said fuck once!"
"No. You said
"FAG."
Arthur escaped his reach before the Frenchman could stop him. He marched right up to the Prussian and slapped him across the face before kicking him in the groin. He would've jumped on the albino too, if it weren't for the arms pulling him back by the waist. Gilbert squirmed on the ground, giving Arthur some sense of satisfaction.
"Ugh…My five meters! Fuckin' shit man! 'hell was that for?"
"What was that for?" Arthur hissed. "What the hell was that for? I'll friggin tell you, you goddamn idiot! Belt up and listen! You will never refer to me using that name ever again. I don't give two flying shits how punk rock you think I am or how punk you think you are. Screw it! I'm still going to listen to my old Misfits CDs, poseur or not. I don't care whether you call me fake, prep, or freakin' nerdy. Just never, ever call me a faggot. You fucking…..Oompa Loompa Monkey Problem! Oh, and Prussia's not a nation anymore. Just so you know."
With one final punch in the gut, Arthur shook off Francis' grip and turned on his heel, taking his leave, but not before adding,
"I don't need a makeover Francis. I don't need piercings or tattoos or hair dye. My mom would have a heart attack. I don't need any of those things…but if you force me to get them, I shouldn't have to get them from someone like that."
The Brit was ready to run down the stairs, but a yank on his wrist stopped him.
'Wait, watch.' His companion mouthed, pointing at Gilbert.
The albino was rubbing his cheek, and spitting out little dregs of what, Arthur realized was blood. (God, that must have been one rough bitch-slap.) Instantly, the boy felt contrite. He didn't mean to hit the other that hard. He just wanted to get a point across.
Gil kept his gaze to the ground as he muttered something incoherent.
"Fmmmf."
"What?" Francis asked, smug smirk on his face.
"Fuck it! Fine! I'll show him where to get piercings and hook him up with an appointment with Kat. But first we need to discuss where he's getting his piercings and what kind of tattoo he'll get. Nothing lame like a cross on his face or any crazy shit like that. It has to be reasonable."
Arthur doubted he would have the guts to get a tattoo, let alone a cross on his face.
"No time now. We have to get to Monsieur Vargas's History class."
"Then tomorrow. After school. Don't be late. I'll make sure to repay you for all the blows you've given me."
Under the albino's intense glare, the blonde couldn't help but redden.
"Y-Yeah. Sorry 'bout that."
Gilbert shook his head, tittering disapprovingly.
"Awesome Attitude Lesson 1: Never apologize. Don't sweat it. It showed me that you have some spunk in ya'. I like spunk so I guess we'll get along fine... Interrupt my time with Mattie though and I'll kick your ass into next week."
Then, with the stature of a king, he flicked his wrist to cast them off, returning to his city-view. As they ambled down the steps, Francis playfully punched Arthur in the arm.
"Congrats. You've passed your first test."
"Excuse me?"
"Gilbert is, how they say, the most 'badass'-Don't laugh! I'm serious!- kid in this entire school. You beat him and you cut class to do it. Gilbert approved you, though he did not show it. You've earned a bit of his respect, thus you have passed the first test of rebellion. Congratulations."
"S-Shut up. Wanker."
"Oh! Artie!"
Alfred F. Jones. In the flesh. And Tino Vainamoinen. About to be skinned if he didn't step at least 4 feet away from the blonde jock with the charming smile.
"What's up Francis?" The jock acknowledged his cousin with a curt nod.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Francis politely smiled and looked away, pretending to be intrigued by a fire extinguisher. Bur Arthur knew the other's keen ears would pick up all that they said.
"What do you need Al?
"I…"
Arthur was confused, and slightly ticked as Alfred trailed off, a pink tint on his face. Out of the corner of his awe, he saw Tino pinch the blonde's hand, telling him to get on with it.
"I can't walk home with you today!"
The athlete blurted out. He drew back his hand, and rubbed it vigorously, shooting his offender a dirty look. The American continued to speak nonsense. Something about having to take Tino to Berwald's house so the three could work on a project.
'As if I'll believe that crap.'
"Save it. I'll just walk home alone." His tone was like ice, but he really didn't care for faking indifference right then. With a stiff lip, he marched away.
"H-Hey, mon ami-."
"Not now Francis." Arthur said tightly. He wasn't angry. Oh hell no.
He was pissed.
World History was one of Arthur's best subjects, despite Mr. Vargas absolutely loathing his guts. He always payed attention, wrote the best notes possible, and was the ideal student. But not on that day. As Mr. Vargas continued his rant about Great Rome and Germania with romantic theatrics, Arthur angrily scribbled away in his notebook. A big, dark tornado of curves was on his page. Why?
Because of Alfred F. Jones.
He didn't understand it. Sure they had their fights. Yes, they met other people. But they always walked home together at the end of the day unless the other was sick or there was some dire emergency. The only time Arthur remembered that Alfred blatantly refused walking home with him was back in eight grade after they had a huge spat over something outrageously stupid.
Alfred hated the fact that he still had to pay for Arthur's mum's baked cookies and tea despite the two being best friends. Arthur argued that it wasn't his fault, but his father's. His father was the one that insisted that everyone pay, regardless of their friendship status. Alfred completely broke away from Arthur for a month and began to hang out with Francis, Arthur's worst enemy at the time.
The fight was ridiculous and childish. Arthur knew, but that didn't stop him from conversing more avidly with his Japanese friend, Kiku Honda, instead of Alfred.
But, even after their big, childish brawl, they discovered that they rather adored the other's company and reunited that Halloween night.
However, now there was no clash over tea. Alfred began to avoid Arthur and indulge in Tino's presence out of the blue. And to make matters worse, Francis and Elizaveta were trying to set Alfred and Arthur up, thinking that he had a crush on Alfred of all people. Alfred! They thought he was jealous!
Sure, he absolutely despised it when Alfred blew him off for Tino but that did not mean that he was jealous! He just...hated the fact that Alfred did it so suddenly! And in the hallway too! The American should have done it properly within a calmer setting instead of in the middle of a horde of students! And he should've done it when they weren't in the presence of Francis.
Francis. The Frenchman who believed that he was envious.
"Like hell I'm jealous!" Arthur said aloud, annoyed. A looming shadow fell over his desk, making the Brit look up into the chiseled features of one, very amused History teacher.
"Detention Mr. Kirkland. Today. My room."
Arthur sighed as Mr. Vargas slapped his desk with a ruler. As if his day couldn't have gotten any worse.
"Romano~!"
"Get off me you bastard!"
P.E. The bane of his existence. He stretched in the corner of the gym, and hoped he could remain doing so for 45 minutes.
This hope, however, was quickly dashed by an incoming Frenchman.
"Bonjour!"
"What are you doing here Francis?"
"I didn't feel like attending French."
Arthur rolled his eyes at this. The other was fluent in the language since birth seeing as how his family spoke it around the house frequently. It was just like the frog to choose a language he already knew for easy credits.
"That doesn't explain what you're doing here."
Blue eyes scanned the gymnasium with purpose before Francis pointed across from them.
"There's your new tutor and his love interest."
The Brit had to squint to see, pausing in flexing his legs.
Sure enough, across from them, two boys seemed to be arguing. One was probably a freshman. He was blushing fiercely while trying to force the others arms off of him, muttering profanities all the while. His eyes were a bright amber and his dark brown hair was disheveled. Judging by the ahoge curling out of his messy mop, he was probably one of the Italian twins. He's shoving the taller boy away quite brutally so Arthur assumes that he's Romano, the more aggressive twin.
As for the other boy, he appeared to be in Arthur's year. Another sophomore. He grinned, despite the fact that Romano kept hitting him and laughed as he was on the receiving end of some terrible curses. His green eyes shone with amusement and pleasure as he finally gave up. The Italian was just giving his arms a rest. Five minutes later; the taller boy had to defend himself again. His strong, tanned hands kept up with Romano's blows with ease. He managed to block most punches with a laugh so Arthur assumed that he had had experience with the Italian's acts of violence. His hair was messier than the freshman's, curled to perfection. Arthur managed to catch a closer look as Francis brought them closer to the two, a small smile on the Frenchman's face as well.
"Oi! Antonio! Romano!"
The Spanish man turned to them and let Romano's fist collide with his chest before he approached the two with an excited wave and a bright, sunny smile.
"Francis! Mi amigo! Que tal?" He clapped Francis on the back as his comrade slapped him on the arse in return. They shared cheeky grins as they began to skip (Yes. Skip. Not walk but a happy little prance accompanied with charming laughter and a sexy Spanish/ French conversation.)
"Bien gracias." The blonde replied smoothly. "Y tu?"
"Ah, Asi Asi. You know how it is."
"Continuer à essayer."
"Affirmative mon ami. Affirmative."
'They know each other's native languages? How friendly are they?' Arthur couldn't believe what he heard as the two switched from French to Spanish to English in a seconds. They laughed and Arthur figured it polite for him to let them catch up. He turned to Romano, who was still fighting a blush.
"Just how close are they? To know each other's native languages like that?" He asked, voicing his thoughts aloud.
"Those bastards?" Arthur nodded. "Their moms are almost sisters so they've been best friends since birth. I live on their street. They, and some teppista named Gilbert, always hang out at each other's houses. It's been that way since they were in the womb. That Spanish idiot has been speaking French since he was born. Their friendship disgusts me really. Too close for my liking."
Romano glared at the hand that was resting on the Spaniard's arse, as if trying to burn a hole through it.
"I've only known the frog for 4 years and I'm already ready to move out of the city. It must take a lot of patience to stick with all three of them your entire life. "
"That and the ability to block out all the retarded things these idiots say."
"Arthur!" Francis said brightly as the two came back into hearing range.
"This is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. He'll train you from now on so you can have abs like Gil's. Just what Elizaveta wants."
"Hola! Nice to meet you!" The teen's eyes were ablaze with enthusiasm. They were overwhelming. He could understand why Romano had a crush on the teen.
"Nice to meet you as well." He replied tightly as his hand was almost ripped off in a brutal handshake.
"Don't kill him you brute! You can't mind your strength can you? Honestly, you're almost as bad as that Prussian idiot!"
"But you love me more than Gil, right Roma?"
"W-What? Get off me before I charge you for sexual harassment and eat your first born child!"
"Aww~! Romano!"
"I-Idiot! Shouldn't you be telling Eyebrows something?"
Eyebrows? Arthur scowled. He knew that the hairy logs above his eyes were rather large, but to point them out so bluntly was just offensive!
"That's right! Every morning at 6:00 AM I'll be here. We'll work on your fitness and you'll be eating breakfast with me. I'll help you manage your diet and ensure that you get the right amount of exercise. Tomorrow you'll come. We have to work fast si? Elizaveta will be very angry if she doesn't see some results by next week."
Arthur gaped at the tanned teen. The words 'Every morning at 6:00 AM' were still circling around his head. He had to wake up 7 to arrive at school by 7:30. So now he'd be waking up every day at 5:30? He was already reeling from the prospect of his new 'relationship problem that doesn't really exist', now he would have to lose sleep too?
"Merci, mon ami. I owe you one."
"Do not worry about it. You're an old friend. It's only natural no?"
Francis smiled at Antonio and began to drag a depressed Arthur away.
"You have finally agreed to accept my help! Thank God! I thought I would have to drag you out of your house tomorrow, but you seem pretty compliant. Now, Arthur,"
"6:00 AM." The green eyed teen said monotonously. The taller of the two raised his brow curiously.
"Yes, the time that you're supposed to meet Antonio. What of it?"
With a cold spark in his eyes, Arthur glared at Francis. Bonnefoy cowered back in fear, squealing like a pig.
"I'm going to lose sleep you bloody wanker! I'll have to wake up at 5:00Am! 5:00AM! Do you have any idea how terrible that is? I'll be half dead in all of my classes!"
"H-Hey, there's no need to overreact."
Francis raised an arm to defend himself as Arthur advanced.
"Overreact? I'll show you overreacting you godd-."
"Oi! What are you two doing? Why are you sitting around?
A glimpse of silver turf-topped hair was spotted and, immediately, Arthur and Francis stood.
"Nothing Mr. Sasagawa sir!" They said in perfect chorus. Gray eyes glowered at the two.
"Alright. If you're doing nothing, then give me ten EXTREME laps around this gym! Now! Kick up those legs Kirkland!"
'I hate you,' Arthur mouthed to the Frenchman. The blonde only smirked.
Damn frog.
'I will not curse in class. I will not curse in class. I will not-."
"Oh, you're in here too Kirkland?"
Arthur looked up from his halfway full sheet to find Romano Vargas staring him down.
"Yeah."
Did he have detention? No, wait...He glanced over to the teacher's desk where Romano's bubbly twin, Feliciano, was speaking in rapid Italian to Mr. Vargas. Julius and the boy laughed and continued their conversation with snickers.
'That's right,' Arthur thought as realization comes over him. 'They're his grandkids.'
Romano took a seat in the desk next to him and immediately joined their tables together, which surprised Arthur. From what he had heard, the twin didn't really enjoy communication with other people. Sudden friendliness was kind of suspicious.
"So how was your day?" Romano began casually, swiping up Arthur's paper and ripping it in half.
"Fine. Detention's a drag but it's not too bad."
It was only an eternal blemish on his permanent record that he cried about for fifteen minutes straight in the boy's bathroom. No biggie.
"I see. So about Antonio-."
Antonio? What did the Spaniard have to do with anything? Arthur was bewildered as Romano leant towards him menacingly, lips forming a snarl.
"Stay away from him and I won't hunt you down ten years later from now to kill you, Antonio, and the dirty blonde haired, blue eyed daughter you will adopt from some orphanage in New York after you guys finally get married and honeymoon in the Bahamas and-and-."
"What?"
Suddenly tear-stricken, the boy fell onto Arthur's shoulder.
"Take him away and I'll kill you for sure!"
Arthur raised a hand to comfort the boy, and then let it drop to his pocket as his phone vibrated. It was a text. From Francis of all people.
'Enjoying detention Arthur? I bet you could have more fun if I were there ;) '
The Brit rolled his eyes. He was going to close his phone out of pure disgust, but the next sentence caught his eye.
'Pass your phone to the Italian kid that's threatening your (and Antonio's) baby boy.'
The fact that Francis was extremely close to describing what Romano said alarmed Arthur. After glancing around for cameras, he tapped Romano on the shoulder, interrupting the other's speech filled with curses and his native language, and handed him the phone. The boy sniffled as his eyes run over the text twice. Slowly, he clambered off of Arthur.
"Oh. You're not after Antonio. You like that jackass kid. Uh, what does he want me to say?" Ambers squinted at the phone screen.
"L-Lo siento? Hell's demons! This bastard sent me Spanish!"
"Romano! Let him write!"
"He sent me Spanish! He made me speak in Spanish!"
"Veh~! Is it Big, Soon-to-Be Brother-In-Law Antonio?"
Arthur slowly backed away as the three gathered around his phone. He would have gotten away too, if it weren't for Romano's backpack tripping him.
"You still have time Kirkland." Mr. Vargas said, helping Arthur up and handing him his phone back. The Brit scowled, as did Romano.
"He needs to help me set something straight first."
"I gave him detention Romano. He needs to listen to me."
Arthur could feel the temperature in the room drop as Romano and the elder glared at each other.
"Abbiamo tutti bisogno di ascoltare non lo facciamo? Perché siamo tutti servi solo in confronto a te ? "
Arthur didn't understand what the freshman said, but he caught the heavy sarcasm lacing his voice. Before the teacher could say anything in return, Romano grabbed his backpack started towards the door.
"I'll make up the whole death threat thing to you Kirkland. I'll get it done by the end of December this year. I hate having debts from the old year passes onto the new so hurry up and figure out what you want before Christmas comes. "
With that, Romano walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Arthur was left with an aggravated teacher and a worried Romano. Finding his company unsettling, he chose the corner of the room farthest away from the Italians and completed his work.
The Kirkland household had never been a normal one. Sure enough, each member of the family was sane enough to be considered normal by society's standards (except Peter) but they surely didn't act as such in each other's presence. Each night was ended in either frantic screaming, laughter, or an unearthly silence. The only way Arthur knew how to tell how the night was going to end, was by reading everyone's facial expressions.
For example, take Holly Kirkland. Arthur's mother was a bubbly ball of joy. She was shorter than all of her boys (except Peter) and had a petite frame too. But her smile outgrew the lot of them. It reached her green eyes, and allowed them to light up with the amusement she felt whenever she laughed. Sometimes, it would reach the roots of her hair, making them appear darker and her crimson curls straighten.
She was wearing her famous smile as she met Arthur at the front door. Therefore, he could safely assume that there was a chance for a laughter-filled end of the night.
Next, he'd take a look at Draco, Arthur's eldest brother who recently came back from college in Scotland with a great accent painting over his British tongue. It was tough to get Draco Kirkland to smile. The closest he ever came to was a mocking sneer, and that only happened when he abused Arthur. Although, his scoff suited his rugged features well. The curl of his lips as he stroked his ruby red stubble was appealing.
He wasn't sneering then. His mouth formed a gentle smile as he lounged on the couch, a small tiger cub in his hands. He chuckled lowly as the cub, which went by the name of Taikos, snapped a piece of meat out of his hands. Like his mother, his smile affected his eyes and dissolved their usual cold leer, introducing a more tranquil look.
His hair, a dark scarlet, fell over his right ear, the one that Arthur knows had been pierced for the tenth time earlier that day. Holly couldn't see it; that's why the mother still smiled as she swept the floor.
The sophomore avoided his brother like the plague and tiptoed up the stairs. If Draco saw him, the gentle grin he adorned would rapidly morph into his usual ridiculing smirk.
Now acknowledge Arthur's second oldest brother, Mac, who was bounding down the steps, Chriam the cheetah cub running after him.
"Hullo Arthur! 'Ow was school?" He asked in a thick Irish accent. His ginger hair had been cut recently so his untamable spikes were gone. Mac always wore a grin, perhaps not on his lips, but in his dark pine tree eyes. Admittedly, they weren't as joyful since his twin sister, Macy, was still attending high school in Northern Ireland, but they still managed to be as happy as possible. His joy amazed Arthur. He expected his brother's stressing goal of achieving a masters in medical school to wear him down. But Mac never complained once. He was a good lad, and always preppy.
Arthur only wished this amount of prep didn't transfer to shocking enthusiasm towards destroying most of his things.
"It was interesting." Mac was one of the two siblings he felt confident in confiding in. He was the only one who can outrun Draco after all.
"Great! Valor's in your room! It'd be best if you'd run on up there before he tears up the 'ntire place with Peter."
Peter? That definitely wasn't good. Arthur gave Mac his thanks and continued on his way, only stopping in hallway of bedrooms to say hello to Jon, his adoptive brother from Wales. The other sibling he could trust.
"Good Afternoon Brother."
"Hmm?" Tousled hair draped over one baby blue eye as Jon looked up, cascading in short silky wefts of a blonde-brown mix. He stopped playing with his Maine Coon cats as he smiled.
"Good Afternoon Arthur. How was your day?" He asked. His voice was soft and melodic. It was always a pleasure to hear after a long, tiring day.
"All good and well. Francis has been meddling in my affairs again though."
"I see…Do not fret. It will all come to pass. I am sure of it.
"Yes. I think so too." Arthur returned Jon's beam and crossed the hall to enter his own room. All three of his brothers and his mum had been smiling so far. Things were looking bright.
At least until Arthur opened his door. Then things started to wobble and crash into a pit of fire, turning his house into a mad house of burning lunatics.
"PETER!"
Cerulean orbs glanced up at a fuming British boy curiously, and then dread overtook them.
"A-Artie!" The eight grader gasped, shifting his lithe body to hide whatever he was doing behind his thin frame. Short blonde hair stood on end and Peter's bushy eyebrows went with it.
"What are you doing in my room you git?"
"I-I…I kind of, sort of wanted to play with Valor and then I kind of, sort of misplaced him when we were playing chase?"
"You what?" Arthur screamed. An angry red fills his face as he stepped towards his cousin, raising a threatening finger.
Valor was scheduled to go back to the exotic zoo in Europe at the end of the year! They couldn't misplace him now! Not when he finally made his 3rd year! What if he got hurt while they weren't around to watch him? The lawsuits were too mortifying to even think about!
Peter looked regretful and bounced from foot to foot.
"I lost him." Peter said bluntly as he began to inch toward the door. "So, um, I'll just be leaving now…"
"Oh no you will not!"
Arthur's eyes scanned his room. No wonder Peter couldn't find the lion cub. His room was a total mess! CDs and vinyl records were scattered on the floor. His sheets and clothes were shoved on top of all surfaces. And his precious books were in disarray. Arthur spluttered as he spied his Harry Potter collection. Scowling, he marched over to his bookshelf and put the 'Order of the Phoenix' before the 'Half Blood Prince'.
"Sirius dies before Dumbledore damn it!"
"When does Rumbleroar die?"
"For the 50th time Peter! A Very Potter Musical isn't the actual Harry Potter series! Now help me clean this up!"
With a joint effort, they managed to clear the area right before dinner. They found Valor in the process. Apparently, he had been hiding under the pillow that managed to enter his closet.
Arthur sighed as he looked over his room once more. He already sent Peter away ("Go play with your ant farm or something!") and had some time to himself and to his #1 responsibility.
Amber eyes looked up at him seriously, a slight twitch around his muzzle. Valor was being bounced on Arthur's knee, a good distance away from the boy's torso.
The Lion Cub was a gift (Or a curse really. It depends on how you wish to look at it.) from his mother for his last birthday. Holly Kirkland was a famous veterinarian, well known even in the slums of Europe, so she was frequently called upon to care for more… outrageous animals that were harder to maintain due to some physical disability or personality disorder.
Holly used to go out to Europe to moderate such situations, but then she formed a family and refused to set foot out of her household's country ever again. She had the animals shipped out to her when they were infants and assisted them in growing out of their problems. She formed a little animal hospital ten minutes away from the house so she could work close to home, lest there be some type of emergency. But the hospital was almost always filled with patients. Of course, since sew had fully grown, trustworthy (for the most part) men in her household, it was only natural that they assisted her.
And so began the tradition of keeping some type of foreign animal with you when you were a member of the Kirkland family. They took care of infant members of the cat family, due to a feline's ability to be more tranquil. Since the animals were kids, their bites couldn't kill as of yet.
But Arthur's little lion was maturing, and fast.
'His jaws are large enough to bite of my foot.' Arthur admired, almost sadly. Valor was approaching his teen years, which meant he was to serve as a threat to the safety of the family sometime soon. He would have to go.
His breathing problem had been cured mere months before. There was no longer any reason for Arthur to keep him. He most certainly wasn't a pet after all.
But, Arthur still felt some attachment. Valor was the first relatively dangerous animal his mother allowed him to care for after all. It was only two years ago that he was caring for ant farms like Peter did and doing mild jobs wild the normally domesticated animals around the animal hospital.
"I'm going to miss you bravery." Arthur sighs, ruffling the lion's soft hair. As if understanding, the lion nuzzles back, then snaps at Arthur's fingers. Arthur pulls back at the right time of course. He had such reflexes since birth. (Living in the same house as Draco ensured that one would learn how to run fast and dodge quickly.)
"Bloody hell! You've already got your carnivorous instincts. How much time have you been spending with Draco?"
He was about to give the animal to sternest talking of a lifetime when his mother's voice rang out, calling him downstairs for dinner.
The Kirkland dinner arrangement never failed anyone of those present at the table. From haggis to scones to boxty, everyone's tastes were usually catered to. The array tasted lovely too, seeing as Holly was the only Kirkland who could cook. Draco had brought Taikos to the table with him, occasionally throwing the sheep's pluck from his haggis to the floor and watching as Taikos jumped to rip it to shreds.
"He's grown the little brute. His hind legs are bouncing up and down like basketballs."
"Mmm-hmm. We'll have to send him back with Valor."
Holly's statement brought everyone's eyes to Arthur, who sunk in his chair and attempted to eat his brussel sprouts in peace.
"So how was school ickle, wittle Artie?"
Oh no. Draco was mocking him again. This wouldn't end well.
"It was fine. I was amused."
"By what?"
Arthur ignored the kick that is passed to him under the table as he answered Mac's question.
"Francis."
"Aww, Artie has a crush on a boy. They grow up so fast don't they Mum?"
'That doesn't look like just friends to me mon ami.'
Arthur stiffened, and then relaxed as soon as possible to try and hide it, but it was too late. Draco already noticed his twitch.
"No way! He actually has a crush on a boy!"
"You bloody wanker! I do not!"
The red head's legendary smirk appeared on his face as Draco reveled in his brother's blush.
"I think you do but you don't want to tell your Mother and favorite older brother."
Holly looks worried as Arthur's complexion turned darker.
"Is there something you need to tell me darling? We can talk in private if you want."
Draco snickered.
"Yeah Artie. Tell Mummy and Draco what's wrong?" Arthur's shin slammed into his chair leg. Hard.
"Shut up Draco." Arthur said cooly, kicking Draco right back. Dark green eyes twitched in annoyance.
"So much sass. Respect your elders boy. Especially you favorite bro-."
"You are not my favorite brother Draco! Quit acting like you're the fruckin' Queen of England you git!"
"Maybe I will when you quit your bullocks!" Draco shouts back. Peter shriveled away from the scarlet haired man and leant into Jon. Mac watched the entire performance go on with a grin on his face. Entertainment accompanied with his dinner was always so very entertaining.
"What bollocks?" Arthur exclaimed, kicking his brother in the shin. Draco snarled and shoved him right back, sending a few slices of ham flying. The animals in the kitchen quickly picked up the scraps, chewing contentedly as they watched the boys go at it.
"Quit the act already you little bugger! You know well what I'm talkin' about!" Draco's eyes were ablaze as he said this. His mouth was set in an angry scowl. Arthur replied with just as much vigor, if not more.
"No! I honestly do not!"
"Boys!" Holly's voice was shrill as she interrupts the two, making everyone (both animal and human) wince. Somehow, Arthur and Draco managed to stand up and start spitting venom in each other's faces in the middle of their feud. Draco sat, still frowning.
"You come home and ya' say hello to everyone but your eldest brother and you 'xpect me not to be pissed off at you?"
Arthur was awestruck by his brother's glare. He just got kicked and yelled at because...he refused to say hello? He had never heard anything so preposterous in his life!
"You sensitive little fuck. You're joking."
"Arthur Kirkland!"
The red head ignored their mother's exclaim and continued, a smirk on his face.
"No joke. It is really rude to enter the household without greeting the man of the house after all."
Arthur turns a deep scarlet again as he catches Draco's words. The red head has the gull to smirk at him after-! After-!
"You are not even half the man Dad was." His voice was composed of pure ice and malice, and his eyes coated with a mocking expression to shield his outrage. The scarlet haired man was quick to get up and swing toward his head. He ducked under Draco's flying fist, grabbed his plate and fork, and stormed out of the dining room, allowing his irises to show hurt and disbelief they protected moments ago.
The git! Fucking bloody-! Ugh! Arthur let a stream of curses get thrown into the air as he locked his bedroom door behind him.
"So much for a good day..." he groans.
He looked right into the amber eyes of Valor, who innocently held up a piece of roasted lamb.
"My brother's a total idiot who thinks he's in command when he really isn't. He's nothing but a cocky little bleeder that wants to take over my father's position right brave one?"
Arthur stroked Valor's fur for a few minutes, deep in thought.
Draco enjoyed believing himself the man of the house. He even went as far as to proclaim himself the 'Father' of the family. Arthur was ten years old when his father died. But all memories of the man were sweet, even when he was lying on his death bed. Draco was dishonoring all of that. It was this that he could not forgive.
That's why he refused to remove his headphones from his head as his mother knocked on his door. Draco and Mac (the traitor) attempted to break down the door but Arthur made sure that all of his furniture were as sturdy as stones and piled in front of it.
He couldn't worry about his brothers now.
He finished the last of his dinner just as the stray notes of Sassafras Roots faded away. Placing his plate on his dresser away, he contemplated his latest 'problem', Alfred,
Was Francis right? Did he really need to follow the current punk trends to get his best friend back? Arthur's eyes set on the city lights outside his window.
He supposed he would find this out tomorrow.
-SSCOTY-
Well, there's the first (huge) chapter of Sophomore Slump. I'll be updating much more frequently in the summer after finals. I'm praying for one chapter every Friday/Saturday of the week. I may upload the second chapter before June, but that depends on whether or not I'm not such a nervous wreck about this little fanfic. *puts way too much emotional/physical investment in this story* Quick question. Do you prefer long or short chapters? I'm not really sure whether I should cut everything up into 5k chapters or leave it in bulk like some Harry Potter chapter. You could vote in my poll, or leave a review stating your answer. Critiques are (almost) as awesome as Prussia. Even the ones that point out my grammar mistakes.
Translations
French
Mon chere- My dear Mon ami- My friend
La jalousie tis- Tis jealousy Oui- Yes
Sacrebleu-Damn Monsieur-My
cousine-Cousin Bonjour-Hello
Continuer a essayer-Keep trying Affirmative-Yes
Merci-Thank You
Italian
Teppista-hoodlum, punk,thug, bully
Abbiamo tutti bisogno di ascoltare non lo facciamo? Perché siamo tutti servi solo in confronto a te ?
We all need to listen to you don't we? Because we're all just servants compared to you huh ?
Spanish
Mi amigo-My friend Que tal?-How are you?
Bien. Gracias.-Fine/Great. Thank You. Y tu?-And you?
Asi Asi-Okay/So-so Si-Yes/Yeah
Lo siento-Sorry