Chapter Two:

Mr. Yao Takes An Extended Vacation, Pt 1

~(*o0o*)~

Hello, loves. I hope you guys are still interested in this story….sorry I didn't update earlier. Unfortunately, I lost six or so pages of this chapter earlier when my computer died on me, so I got discouraged. :'( But I like this story and hope you do, too!

This chapter is a bit short; I want to see how many people are still interested. Reviews will make a happy authoress.

~(*o0o*)~

Luring Kirkland into his car had been easier than he'd thought it'd be. Certainly Arthur had sneered at him, mocked him as was his wont, but Ivan had played the naïve idiot very well, praising the snob's superior soccer skills and asking for pointers. After sufficiently stroking the Brit's ego, Ivan had convinced Arthur to accept a ride to the bookstore.

Arthur never saw the needle coming. He'd thrashed in Ivan's arms like a captive fly as the drugs raced through his system, biting the hand Ivan had plastered over his mouth, helplessly clawing the Russian's arms raw. But in a matter of seconds, the anesthetic took its effect, and the writhing Brit's eyes rolled back into his head. Humming slightly, Ivan had set him back against the passenger seat, and drove the minivan to a dark, trash-strewn alley before parking, dragging out Kirkland's body, his head bobbing like a dumb puppet's.

Like a spider, Ivan had tenderly trussed up Arthur in plastic wrap and duct tape before tossing him unceremoniously in the trunk. Feeling Alfred's nemesis limp and powerless underneath his hands was certainly satisfying, and he'd felt the almost unbearable urge to stab him then and there, his switchblade cutting through warm flesh and blood as easily as it would through tissue paper.

But knives weren't his forte, really. He lovingly fingered the faucet pipe covered with rust and blood that was obediently waiting beside Arthur's motionless body, a memento from his first murder.

No, it would be so much more satisfying to watch Arthur squirm like a helpless insect, to hear him scream and beg for his life. He'd break his ankle before he descended on him however, payback for his little darling.

Grinning hugely, Ivan got back in the car, gunned the accelerator and zoomed to the interstate, his taillights flashing red in his wake. The Russian turned up the radio, absentmindedly searching for his favorite classical station. He typically preferred Tchaikovsky when it was time for death, though he supposed Bach would do in a trice.

~(*o0o*)~

"I don't like this."

Alfred rolled his eyes and cheerfully shoved a few more fries in his mouth. "Jusumvaltinz, bo."

"What did you say? I don't speak caveman."

Alfred rolled his eyes once again, swallowed with some difficulty, and repeated, "Just some valentines, bro. You don't have to get jealous over it or anything."

Alfred, Matthew, and their friends were gathered around their usual lunchroom table one chilly afternoon in November. Their latest discussion revolved around (once again) the identity of Alfred's secret admirer, who had yet to leave a name.

Looking angry, Matthew flicked his brother in the forehead, making him wince.

"You know, slipping someone a card between the cracks of a locker is one thing, but leaving gifts every other day inside your locker? Al, how would someone know your locker combination to begin with? That spells 'creepy' in my book."

Alfred had been sipping water, choked, and coughed. "Uh…..I dunno?" he croaked, scrubbing at his wet face. "I guess I didn't really think about that part."

"Exactly. What if someone's trying to butter you up, make you meet up with them in some dark alley so they can hit you with a shovel and—"

To Matthew's left, Francis shivered as he played with his salad. "I will not be sleeping well tonight. Ack! Where do you hear of such horrible things?"

"'To Catch a Predator' and stuff, but never mind that! Alfred, I think you should tell a teacher or get a new locker. Or, at the very least, leave this person a note politely asking them to stop what they're doing."

Alfred frowned. "But they've been so nice. I don't mind if they're in my locker, as long as they don't take anything. And so far, they haven't."

Okay, that wasn't entirely true. A box of pencils that had his teeth marks on them had disappeared last week, but they had been replaced with a set of new red and blue pencils with stars on them. And he had a photo of himself and his friends on Halloween that had mysteriously vanished from inside the locker, but he supposed he could have simply misplaced it.

Kiku looked up from his soup, frowning pensively.

"It is like Valentine's Day come early for you, Alfred. The chocolate this person has presented to you is like 'special' chocolate. They must like you a lot."

Alfred blinked. "Why, because it's usually my favorite stuff?"

"That, and it's high-quality. If it were homemade, then that would be as good as a declaration of love back home."

"It isn't as though the letters have done a bad job of that," muttered Francis dreamily. "Alfred, show them to us again, please?"

The younger Jones brother laughed and colored pink. "Aww, c'mon, guys, I've shown them to you half a dozen times already…."

Ismael, the dark-haired, stocky kid on Matthew's right scoffed.

"You're such a show-off, Alfred. You keep them with you on all times just in case someone asks you about them. So transparent."

"Ismael," said Matthew impatiently. "Alfred's not like that."

Alfred flushed, but for a different reason this time. He forced himself to count backwards from ten before he said something he would regret later on. 'He's Mattie's best friend, don't hit him, don't hit him….'

"They just make me feel really special, is all," he said honestly, digging out the small pile of notes from his bag. "No one's ever said this kind of stuff to me before."

"If it make you happy, I don't see problem," piped up Ivan out of nowhere. Everyone looked slightly surprised; Ivan didn't normally say much of anything unless Alfred was talking to him.

Alfred cast his friend a grateful glance, then picked up one of the notes and read it aloud. He wasn't sure why; he had it memorized by heart. "'Thinking of you often, and joyously. You are the apple of my eye, and the sunshine in my life. I am so happy you exist.'"

"This stalker should write Hallmark cards," commented the Cuban kid with a smirk. Alfred ignored him.

"So romantic," sighed Francis, picking up another. "'Bright flowers for bright eyes.' I have never known a girl to give flowers to a boy…she must really like you, Alfred."

A mischievous glint entered his eye. "Ah! But what if it is not a girl at all, Alfred? What will you do then?"

Alfred buried his face in his hands. "Dude, I…..uh….I don't even know. Don't go there."

Kiku went pink, and he looked carefully at the writing on one of the notes.

"I cannot tell if it is the handwriting of a boy or girl," he confessed, not looking happy. "'You are wonderful. You are so kind and full of life. You are the warm in the cold.' This sounds to me like a girl's writing."

"What? A boy cannot be poetic?" asked Francis as he picked up another note. "'Stay warm, my sweet….' I wish I could write to Monaca like such."

"You guys all still missing the point," complained Matthew. "What if this person is like some deranged stalker or something? Alfred, you're absolutely POSITIVE you have no idea whom it could be?"

Alfred looked up.

"I keep tellin' ya Mattie, I have no freakin' clue! The notes-the gifts-they're just in my locker before school starts every morning."

"So who would it be? Some early-rising student who knows Alfred's schedule, or a janitor?" asked Kiku, frowning pensively.

Alfred shuddered. "Oh my God Kiku, you just gave me mental scars."

"I agree with Matthew, Alfred. Perhaps this is not altogether a good thing."

"You speak like a scorned lover," mocked Francis. Kiku squawked. Ivan looked up from his food, startled.

"What?" he asked sharply. "Don't say such things, Francis."

"Yes!" agreed Kiku immediately, blushing and glowering daggers at the French student, who only chuckled, shrugging innocently.

"I was only kidding-"

"It still wasn't funny-"

"So what d'ya think I should do?" Alfred asked quickly, before a food fight could break out. Damn, but that look Ivan was giving Francis suggested that the Russian was ready to shove that plastic spork one place it most certainly did not need to be…

Matthew crossed his arms and frowned. "I still say get a new locker, ask them to stop, or at least try finding out who they are. Maybe it's some cute, shy girl, or maybe it's some crazy stalker. You can't be sure right now."

Ismael shrugged. "Don't care what you do. But if you meet this chick, be sure to take lotsa pictures of yer face. I'm sure that'll be good for a laugh when you realize some poor, probably brain damaged lug likes ya."

Alfred gave Ismael the finger, scowling. Several years ago, he'd gotten on the wrong foot with Mattie's best friend, and they'd never really been able to set things straight. Ismael loathed Alfred, and Alfred couldn't say he didn't return the sentiment.

This jerk was really making Alfred miss Arthur right now. He tried to keep his eyes from flickering to the back of the lunchroom, where Arthur's 'Have you seen me?' poster still hung, as it had for weeks. He wondered if letting Kiku and Ivan start up a food fight was such a bad idea after all.

Francis just shrugged again, smiling. "I say sit back and enjoy the love. Even if you do not like this person, why not enjoy the attention? I think it's sweet."

"Do whatever you think is right, Alfred," said Ivan gently. "But this person doesn't seem to mean you any harm."

Kiku said nothing for a moment. Then, he gently said, "Maybe you should follow Matthew's advice, Alfred. I do not want you to get hurt."

Alfred was about to throw his hands in the air. Why couldn't any of his friends actually be happy for him? Ugggh, this was so annoying!

"I guess I could always just leave 'em a note and ask them to meet…." He said cautiously. "Like, in the gymnasium after school or something."

"I don't like that idea, Alfred," said Kiku firmly. Alfred smacked his forehead.

"It isn't like the candy they've brought has been poisonous so far-"

"'So far,'" returned Matthew. Alfred brushed that aside.

"And the paper flower bouquet didn't explode, the sunflowers didn't…I dunno, have chloroform in 'em or anything, the pencils weren't detonators, and the poems weren't asking me to sacrifice myself to the sun god or anything like that, so I don't think it'd be a bad idea to at least talk to the person," Alfred said airily, leaning back in his chair and grinning at his friends. "Hey, even if they're shy and don't show, maybe I'll get some more chocolate out of the deal."

Ivan smiled. Kiku still looked unhappy and opened his mouth, likely to protest, but just then the bell rang and everyone at their table started pitching their junk into the nearby trashcan. As Alfred started waving his friends goodbye, his best friend approached him, dark brown eyes strictly serious.

"Alfred, I would like a word with you."

The blond blinked, but grinned amicably.

"Sure." He turned his head to Ivan, who was hovering uncertainly by the lunchroom doors. "Go ahead, buddy. I'll meet ya at music in a bit. Just tell Mr. B I'll be a little late again."

The Russian's eyes widened, but he nodded, slowly turning away with a slight wave. "Da. I will be waiting, Alfredka." Kiku's eyes narrowed, and the two watched him slowly trudge down the hall, head and shoulders above everyone else.

"You and Ivan-kun are certainly very close, aren't you?" Kiku's voice sounded a little deadpanned as he sat down again at their table. Alfred followed suit, though he looked somewhat lost.

"Uh…I guess?" he answered, playing with the stubborn hair strand that never would lie flat with the others. "Yeah, Iv practically lives at my place. My Mom's started laying out one more placemat for dinner almost every day." He snorted, and Kiku's disapproving expression clouded over to one of worry. "It's actually pretty funny, considering I've never seen his digs…."

Kiku worried at his lower lip.

"Alfred, Ivan has been here for a rather long time now, hasn't he?"

The blond shrugged. "A couple months now, give or take."

"So he should have made a couple of friends by now, right? Besides you?" Kiku's face reddened like a poppy, and he immediately looked down at his interconnected fingers. "I-I mean, that is to say, he is very clingy to you. I notice he follows you around everywhere he can."

Alfred shrugged again, this time uncomfortably. He didn't like to admit it, but Ivan was definitely in his life more than he had anticipated when he'd first met the guy.

"I guess," he said awkwardly, running a hand through his mop of gold hair. "I kinda thought the same thing in the beginning. But then Mattie got all on my case about it and told me that Ivan's just a lonely new guy in a new country. Still stumbles over his English and is totally shy to boot." He smiled and leaned back, stretching slightly.

"But doesn't it get a little overbearing?"

"…..uh, sometimes," Alfred admitted reluctantly. He really didn't enjoy talking about his friends behind their backs. "But he's a totally nice guy who likes laughing at bad films and doesn't get mad when I scream like a girl when we watch scary flicks."

Kiku lowered his eyes. "What will he do when we graduate? If he doesn't learn how to make friends, he will be alone in college."

"Yeah well, he's gonna have to learn how to deal eventually," Alfred agreed. "But maybe a year with us and he'll learn how to relax a little around people. After all, I'm Alfred Fucking Jones—I can get a hermit crab to come out of its shell and make friends with elusive sea monsters," he boasted, and Kiku rolled his eyes, letting slip a begrudging smile. "Like that time the two of us went to Sea World and Whaley—"

"I miss those times," murmured Kiku wistfully. Alfred's eyes about popped out of his head.

"Dude! What do you mean?" he exclaimed, grabbing the startled Japanese's shoulders and shaking them, making Kiku's dark brown eyes roll in his head. "Aw, Kiku, I know we haven't been hanging around as much as we used to, but there's no reason why we can't make room for more time together. 'Sides," he added, "There won't be much time for that once you're in Ivy League with the big boys."

"Alfred, I do not even know if I have been accepted yet—"

"But you will," interrupted Alfred carelessly. "No need to worry your pretty little head over it, buddy; you got more brains than you know what to do with. Hey man, you feeling alright?" Kiku flushed again, stammered, and then started coughing. Alfred roughly clapped him on the shoulder, sending Kiku's fake coughing jag into a real one.

"Well, maybe just the two of us could hang out this week. Wouldn't that be sweet? Well, actually it might have to wait until this weekend," he added hastily, scowling. "Mattie's got his semifinal this Thursday and I got the damn test on Friday."

Clearing his throat, eyes watering, Kiku nodded sympathetically. It was no secret among them that Alfred was doing poorly in his math classes, barely managing to hold onto a D. "Perhaps when you are finished, we can go out and celebrate."

Alfred whooped and clapped his hands. "Now you're speakin' my language! When Mattie's team kicks the other guys' asses and sends them home crying to their moms, we can celebrate that too. We'll go Christmas shopping and eat junk and go to the arcade and watch TV and eat more junk and stay up all night and eat some more junk until we're sick," he said enthusiastically. "Why, Mattie and I could make those red and blue cookies you're so fond of…."

The Asian teen paled and clutched his stomach while Alfred cracked up. "Very funny. But that does sound nice. Just us?"

Alfred nodded, beaming. "Mm-hmm! Well, Matts too, of course, but he'll probably bum out early to study or practice or whatever. So it'll be just the two of us, if you're okay with that. I can ask Ivan to come around, if you li—"

"Just the two of us will be fine," Kiku interrupted him hastily. "Don't get me wrong, I think Ivan is….nice, but he…." Kiku looked as though he wanted to say more, but he simply shrugged and cleared his throat again. "U-um, Alfred, I wanted to tell you something," he croaked, and Alfred leaned in curiously.

"Hmm? What is it? Talk to me, buddy."

Kiku took a deep breath.

"Well, y-you see, I was hoping…"

The bell started to shrill, and Alfred leapt to his feet, gulping.

"Aw, shit, Mr. Oxenstierna's gonna be pissed!" he moaned, dragging his fingers through his hair. "I don't think he'll write me up, but still, probably gotta—"

The bell did not stop ringing. In fact, it was getting louder now, much more piercing and insistent than usual. Alfred clapped his hands over his ears and swore. "Okay, okay, I freaking get it! Why won't you shut up?!"

"Ugh! I can't hear myself!" Kiku exclaimed, his palms flying to his head. To Alfred, it just looked like Kiku's lips were moving.

"What?" he yelled.

"I said I cannot hear myself!"

"WHAT?"

"I SAID—"

Briiiinnng! Brriiiiiiiinnnnnng! BRRRIIINNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGG!

People flooded through the lunch doors, and suddenly there was Ivan, grinning tightly from ear to ear.

"Very loud, isn't it? Hello again, you two," he called out sweetly, seemingly oblivious to the positively filthy look the Asian teen was giving him. "We best be the leaving quicker soon in case there's really a fire!"

"Sweet!" Alfred exclaimed, as their friends scurried back into their group. "Who's the arsonist? I'd like to shake his hand."

"Not funny, bro," Matthew snapped as everyone began to bustle outside. Alfred looked at him.

"What?"

"I—oh, Christ, forget it."

Kiku was looking seriously put out. Ivan couldn't seem to stop smiling, even as he casually sidled through the crowds to Alfred's side, conveniently knocking Kiku aside as he did so.

~*oOo*~

"Don't they normally tell us about these things in the morning announcements?" Alfred asked as he and his friends waited for their teachers to call roll. "Kinda defeats the purpose of it, I guess, but I don't think they've ever given us a surprise drill."

"Y'know, Mr. Vargas seemed pretty surprised about it too," Matthew spoke up, staring at the school with a raised eyebrow. "Not that he actually looks at the school memos, but you'd think the teachers would at least know something about it."

"Well, it isn't as if a blaze is going to give you a warning, is it?" sighed Francis dreamily, staring at the sky overhead. "A large fiery inferno, ah, what a sight, as beautiful and as terrifying as a woman scorned."

"You don't think there's actually been a fire, do you?" Alfred asked Ivan hopefully. "I didn't smell any smoke."

"Neither I, little Alfred," Ivan murmured, squeezing his hand, causing Alfred to blush and hurriedly step aside, and Kiku to suddenly lose his footing and step on Ivan's foot.

Everyone got quiet as fire engines zoomed down the streets, but there was still no sign of any smoke, no strange light in the windows. A firefighter dismounted from the fiery red truck to speak with curly-haired Mr. Rome, who was looking seriously confused.

Ismael curiously ventured near the arguing men, and then hurried back to his friends (and Alfred) to report. "Nah, no fire. I heard someone pulled the fire alarm. Some kind of senior prank, maybe?"

Matthew's eyes widened.

"Ismael, no way."

"Si. Way, amigo," said the Cuban carelessly, tucking his arms behind his head to stare back at the perfectly still school. "You realize that's a federal offense, right? Some joker's gonna get their ass a one-way ticket outta here."

"Good luck with finding them," murmured Ivan thoughtfully as the students were given the all-clear signal to move back inside. "I am sure whoever they are, they have good reason, yes?"

Agggh, we don't even get to Mr. Yao yet...please don't hate me! *Ducks at garbage thrown* Again, school is starting soon and I need to prioritize my fictions; some might have to go. But I have the plot for this story pretty much figured out, so if you guys will give me your support (and any helpful advice you might have), it will be very much appreciated! Thank you!