Arthur sat down at the lunch table and glared at the food. He could've sworn that his jello just moved and tried to eat the corn.

Lukas sat across from him and stared at his food with a solemn look and scowl. "I think they are trying to poison us min venn(my friend)."

Arthur nodded and pushed the tray away a bit. "I agree wholeheartedly." Lukas picked up his roll and bit into it, eye twitching as he realized it was wheat and had no butter or flavor to it.

"Lukas~ Arthur~" Vladimir said joyfully as he sat down next to Arthur. He quickly began to eat his lunch; cheesy chicken over wheat rice left-overs from the past two days. "So what's up with you guys? We didn't get to talk much second period." He scooped a large bit of the food into his mouth.

Lukas and Arthur gagged slightly. "I'm fine. But I won't be if I eat this junk." Lukas said, pushing around the chicken and rice.

Vladimir stared at it. "I'll take it for you then!~ I like it!" Lukas quickly gave the Romanian his lunch. "Eventually I will start to bring my own lunch from home." England nodded in agreement. Vladimir shrugged and continued eating. "So how was French Arthur? The teacher wasn't too hard on you was he?"

Arthur groaned and stabbed his overly greasy pizza with his fork. "Don't even remind me. He's going to call my big brother today and then when I get home he's going to kill me!"

The Norwegian continued to pick at his roll. "What did you do in class?"

"He talked about Napoleon Bonaparte." The Brit scowled. "His voice is just so annoying and boring and I couldn't help it; I zoned out. Then he decided to embarrass me in the middle of class by pointing out that I wasn't paying attention and now he's going to call Ian."

Vladimir chuckled. "Seems like you should maybe start paying attention then." Arthur's emerald eyes flashed with annoyance as he glared at his friend. Lukas shrugged but nodded in agreement. "Does the teacher do tutoring?"

Arthur sighed. "Yes, but only in the morning. Not in the afternoon."

"Why not?" Vlad asked, eating Arthur's orange moving jello. Arthur shuddered and turned a pale shade of green. "I haven't any idea. Probably too lazy or something. I hate the French." Lukas chuckled.

Meanwhile, in the Spanish classroom there were three language teachers eating their lunches sitting at the students tables. Instead of desks, like Francis and Gilbert had, Antonio's class had tables. Each table could seat two students and there were two rows of five.

Gilbert took a large gulp of his bottle of coke. "Kesesese~ so how's class been for you guys?" Antonio grinned. "Pretty good I think. I had a test for my classes, so today has been nice and quiet~" The Spaniard grinned, spinning some homemade spaghetti onto his fork.

His Italian boyfriend had brought it to him while he was on break and then left. He had made it the previous night for dinner and decided to bring some to Antonio; but only after the Spaniard had texted him complaints about school food and how amazing his homemade pasta was.

"So what about you then mi amigo?" Antonio asked the German man. Francis looked over at him.

Gilbert grinned. "I talked about Fritz and mein awesome country!" Francis and Antonio laughed. "But I think a lot of mein students are getting lazy; they're starting to not do their homework." Francis groaned and bashed his head into the table top.

The other two stared at the top of the blonde mans head. "What's wrong mi amigo?" Antonio asked, taking a sip of his glass of water.

Francis sighed and sat back up. "One of mes étudiants is just not even trying in mon class!" Francis threw his hands up in exasperation.

Gilbert raised a silvery-white eyebrow. "Which student?" Francis sighed. "His name is Arthur Kirkland. And he seems to absolutely loath my class. He glares and scowls at everyone almost. He never does his homework. I don't think he's even trying and he has a twenty-nine for an average!"

Antonio stared at his friend. "Arthur Kirkland?" Gilbert shook his head and scowled. Francis looked between the two. Both had nearly identical looks of annoyance and worry. "Oui? What about him?"

Gilbert sighed and leaned closer to his friend. "Kirkland used to do all sorts of drugs until about the middle of last year." Antonio nodded and stared out of the window as Gilbert continued. "His parents died the summer before his freshman year and his elder brother has been his guardian since then. I feel bad for him. But since then he's been in a rough spot. He did all sorts of drugs and just enjoyed being a trouble maker really."

Francis stared in shock at his friends. "I had no idea..."Francis mumbled, crossing his arms in thought. Antonio nodded. "Just be careful Francis. He seems to have changed but still..."

The Frenchman nodded slowly. "I'm having a conference with his elder brother this afternoon.." Francis groaned out. He could feel a head ache coming on. Antonio shook his head and forced a grin. "Well I hope that goes well. Good luck Francis." Gilbert nodded and laughed at the Frenchman. "Yeah! Good luck Francey-pants! You're gonna need it kesese~ ow!" He rubbed his arm that Antonio punched him in and the two glared at each other as Francis left the room.

Francis glanced at the board. He had added a bit more about Napoleon since first period and he had discussed the topics with all of his classes. He reached for the phone on his desk and reached for the slip of paper with Arthur's guardian's, who he now knew was his elder brother, contact number.

He dialed the number and reached a voicemail. "Leave a message after the beep." Was all it said in a heavy, thick, accent. "Hello, this is Francis Bonnefoy. I'm calling because of your younger brother Arthur Kirkland. If you could please call me back soon I would like to schedule a conference with you. Goodbye." The Frenchman hung up and thought about what to do about Arthur Kirkland and soon the bell rang and he had to teach again.

~With Ian~
When the Scottish man came back from his lunch break he saw his cell phone glowing and when he picked it up to look at the screen his eye twitched. It was the high school. He practically knew the number by heart considering he used to get a call everyday. He sighed and picked up the phone and listened to the voicemail.

He called the number back and the French accented(and very familiar voice he may add) picked up. "Bonjour, francis Bonnefoy here, how may I help you?"

Ian tapped his chin softly in thought. "Yeah. You called a bit ago about mah brother, Arthur Kirkland. I can make it for a conference this afternoon if that's good with you?" Francis thought about it. "Oui. Is around three this afternoon good with you?"

Ian shrugged, though he knew the Frenchman couldn't see it. "Yeah. That's great. I have to go bye." And he promptly hung up.

~Back With Francis~
Francis scowled at the phone as he put it back down and faced the class again. "Ah now where were we?" "You were talking about Napoleon being the Emperor of France and stuff?" Raivis, the Latvian boy asked.

Three more hours passed and Francis began to grade homework. While out in the hall a very ticked off red head made his way to the classroom. He scowled and had to resist the urge to pull out a cigarette. Not even two months into the school year and he already had a parent-teacher(in his case brother-teacher) conference to attend.

'It's more like I'm his babysitter than guardian!' he thought with a scowl.

He stared at the door in front of him then slowly knocked. "Come in." A voice whom he recognized as Francis Bonnefoy's said. Ian frowned. 'Why do I get the feeling that I know this person...?' Ian thought as he opened the door and walked into the classroom, door slamming shut behind him.

The blonde man winced and rubbed his forehead in an attempt to keep the headache away. "Please," he beckoned to a desk in front of his own, "si- Ian?!"

The Scottish man in question, who had been staring at the students desk wearily, snapped his sight to the teacher. "Francis?!"

Francis grinned, laughed softly and nodded as he stood up to walk over to the red-headed man.

Ian grinned widely and the two hugged each other quickly. The two had been friends and dated throughout most of high school.

"How have you been mon ami? I haven't seen you since I graduated!" Francis leaned against the edge of his desk and stared at the red-headed man. Ian had been a grade ahead of Francis and a few months after Ian graduated high school, the two had broken up and the last time they'd seen each other was when Francis had graduated high school.

Ian shrugged as he sat down on top of the desk behind him, not noticing or ignoring the small glare Francis shot towards him. "Been better I guess. Been taking care of Arthur."

Francis nodded and after a few seconds facepalmed. "Arthur is your younger brother!" He exclaimed, to which Ian replied with a mumbled, "Unfortunately."

"No wonder you two look so alike! And that would explain why he looked so familiar honhon~" Ian scowled. "It's the eyes. They look alike." Francis said, pointing to his own blue eyes as an example. "The last time I'd seen Arthur he was ten. He's grown up a lot." Ian shrugged. "Now please mon ami... get off the damn desk."

Ian raised an eyebrow at the Frenchman. "Now Ian." The Scott crossed his arms in defiance. Francis reached onto his desk and quickly quickly smacked Ian on the thigh with a ruler. "Ow!" "Off the desk~" Francis sang out, grinning as the red haired man scowled but did as he was told.

"Fine fine Monsieur Francoise." Ian crossed his arms and smirked at Francis, who had winced at Ian's terrible accent.

Francis scowled and sat back down at his own desk. "Your accent is still terrible. Arthur's is even worse if you can believe it." The two stared at each other. "Arthur; he's why you're here!" Francis suddenly said loudly, blushing softly. 'How could I forget about a student?!' He mentally yelled and scowled to himself.

Ian sighed and faceplanted into the desks surface. "What'd that brat do now? Color on the walls? Start a food fight? Tear up books? Blare terrible music?

The blonde man quirked an eyebrow."Non?" he shook his head. "He is not doing too well in mon class. It seems that he either does not understand or he doesn't care and either way his grade is suffering terribly."

Ian leaned forward a bit and sighed. "Well what do I do about it? It's not really my problem if he's failing." Francis crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "Ian. He's your brother and he is failing. You need to help him." Francis continued."Ugh!" The green-eyed man threw his head back and groaned with a scowl.

He sat up and stared at Francis with a bored expression. "Bonjour Francis." He said dryly. It came out sounding more like 'Bon joor'.

Francis winced and shuddered. "I see your point." Ian shrugged. "Why don't you tutor him? I mean c'mon, you're French!" The Scotsman asked.

To him it made sense. Francis had taught him French when the two were friends, and more, in high school. Of course Ian hadn't spoken the language much after and so he had forgotten most of the language.

Francis nodded slowly but quickly shook his head. "And we can see well that turned out, oui?!" He exclaimed. Ian shrugged.

"I never speak French anymore." Francis rolled his eyes. "C'mon Francis."

Francis rubbed his temples in an attempt to keep the head ache that was forming away. "He won't come before school. After school I'm busy."

Ian scoffed. "Doing what?"

Francis scowled at his friend. "I have a son." Ian face-palmed. "That's right..."

Of course he knew about Francis' son. He'd been invited to the wedding that was held in France but hadn't been able to attend because Arthur needed someone to take care of him and such. He hadn't been able to come to the funeral because of the same reason.

"So how is the kid anyway?" Francis' face warmed up immediately and his eyes shone. "He is well. He finally started pre-school, but his teacher keeps forgetting about him." Ian chuckled softly.

"Looks just like you," the red-headed man nodded towards pictures taped to the wall behind Francis. The younger man nodded with a content smile. "You can bring him over. How about it? Maybe Tuesday and Thursday around five, you can come over and tutor Arthur and then you and your son can stay for dinner. I'll watch the kid for you while you tutor Arthur."

Francis rubbed his chin softly. It was a tempting idea. He could help a student do better, get out of the house more, talk to an old friend, and he wouldn't have to cook two nights out of the week. He shrugged. "Alright."

"So we're done here then?" Francis nodded and Ian sighed in relief. "Great! So you can come by tomorrow? Maybe we can catch up a bit." The Scotsman winked. Francis rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement none the less. Ian waved as he left the room, door shutting loudly behind him.

Francis smiled softly to himself as he stood felt relaxed and calm for the first time in a long time. ...until he saw the time and had to quickly gather the papers and things he needed to grade before running out of the classroom to pick up Matthew.

A/N: Alright ages for people in the story:
Arthur, Vlad, and Lukas-17
Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio-24
Ian-25
Mathew-4

People that will come in later:
Feliciano(16, junior in highschool)
Ludwig(17, senior)
Lovino(22, in college)

Francis and Jeanne met while in college in France. They got married young and had Matthew soon after. She died in the cliché way; fire. Will explain a bit better later on in the story. I was going to wait a bit longer to update, but I'm going to be extremely busy next week and chose to update now instead of in two weeks x3