There was a scream behind him, but he didn't stop running. The voice was the only thing he heard, the normally soft voice now screaming his lungs out. It was dark, but he knew where the voice came from.
"ALFRED! DON'T GO THERE!"
But no, he had to go there. There isn't any possible way anything bad can happen, right? He looked back and grinned at the slender boy. His deep black eyes he knew so well was wide and filled with fear, and he clutched his necktie so tightly, his hands were shaking. No, he wasn't usually like this. He knew that boy so well, he wasn't the type to get scared.
"C'mon," Alfred laughed, halting right in the middle of the room. "There's no possible way he could be—"
Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted from his stomach. Wide eyed, he looked down, and his vision blurred. Dark red liquid slowly stained his beige sweater…and a knife stuck out of it. His mind went fuzzy, and he suddenly lost his voice. He felt sweat drip down his face, and he was shaking uncontrollably.
"Ki—"he choked, clutching the knife with his hands. He heard whimpering, and looked up. The black haired man fell to his knees, and looking at him. No. He was looking past him. He looked back to see
A mask. Its eyeholes were deep, and empty. Its twisted smile painted on it, giving it a cruel look. He looked back at the boy, now tears streaming down his pale face. He heard a cold voice, innocent yet cruel, behind him.
"Looks like I win." The masked man giggled. He began to lose his vision; and his knees buckled. The pain was too much. When he looked down at his hands, it was stained red. No. No, it can't be. It can't be…
"No…" The boy whimpered. "No…not again…" His mind slowly slipped away. No…No...He was the hero…he couldn't just die…he can't leave the boy. He was precious. He didn't know why, but he had to protect him. Protect him from the masked man,
He had to-!
"Alfred, your pancakes are ready, eh—AUGH!"
Alfred blinked and sat up. He saw his brother sprawled on the floor, rubbing his cheek. "Oh, sorry Matt," He laughed. Matthew just sighed and got back up, shaking his head which caused his gold locks to get messed up.
"Punching people isn't anyone's first instinct when they wake up, eh." Matthew grumbled softly as he swatted his brother's head, which didn't hurt of course.
Alfred grinned guiltily and stretched. "Sorry," he sighed, "I've had some pretty messed up dreams lately."
Matthew nodded in acknowledgement. "Same thing?" he asked. When the other nodded, it was Matthew's turn to sigh, and he patted his shoulder, as if it was a silent 'hang in there'. "Well, they're just dreams, Al. You won't die. Pancakes are ready."
Alfred hummed, and got out of bed. Just a dream, huh, he thought glumly. These dreams are pretty realistic. The pain, the cold voice, the boy;
Of course, he didn't know who the boy was to begin with. They seemed tight though, they were best friends to say the least. He also vaguely heard that cruel voice before, though he didn't know either. The room wasn't familiar at all, though he's seen it so many times in his dreams. He kept having the same dream for the past week. It must be some sort of mental illness.
Alfred shook his head fiercely. "This is all too confusing." He declared to nobody in particular, as he stepped into the shower. The warm water drenched his blonde hair, and he kept his baby blues closed as he relished the feeling. It was strange to have the same dream over and over, especially since he didn't recognize anything there.
"It sure is weird." He murmured under his breath as he reached out for the soap.
"You took your time." Matthew commented as Alfred settled onto a chair and started shoveling his tender made pancakes into his mouth. "We have around twenty minutes 'til class starts, eh."
"You're such a worrywart, Matt," Alfred said cheerfully as he drenched his pancakes with molten butter and maple syrup. "We'll get there in time!"
"You said that yesterday," Matthew sighed, looking disdainfully at the copious amount of fat on his brother's pancakes before set his plate on the sink. He finished long before Alfred came down. "We were late by thirty minutes." Alfred merely laughed and ate the rest of his pancake in one swallow. Still chewing, he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his bomber jacket, stood up, and grabbed the bag from the counter. Matthew did the same and they both ran out their house towards the school bus stop.
"Mon dieu, Alfred." Francis whispered, poking him on the back of his head with a pencil. "It's still a shock that you don't have detention until now." Alfred looked back from his seat just to shoot him a sixty-watt smile that should've sent girls swooning (or at least, that was what he thought.) and gave a thumb up.
"It's not our fault anyway!" Alfred grinned, which earned titters from the class. "Our bus wasn't there when we arrived at the stop! Besides, me and Mattie were ultra-fast when we ran, so we're actually really early—"
"Shut up, Jones." The homeroom teacher said irritably, without looking up from his notebook. "We don't need to hear your pathetic excuse to come to class late." He was writing some formulas on the board, and stopped just to give his younger cousin a good glare. Alfred whined.
"It's Mr. Kirkland, Jones."
"But I had a perfectly good excuse!" Alfred argued. The class was far too used to the constant bickering between the two, and didn't even bother to snicker at the sour expression Arthur shot.
"I'll mark you present if you just belt up, alright?" the teacher sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Alfred cheered and class resumed. The American turned around to face Francis once more, who had a lopsided smile plastered all over his face. Alfred grimaced as he snapped in front of Francis's gaze.
"Dude, at least try to hide your face when you fantasize about my cousin." Alfred rolled his eyes. "It gets creepy if you keep doing that."
"Well you should see the girls' expressions." A nearby albino by the name of Gilbert snorted, leaning back into his chair. "It's far more disgusting than what Fran's doing. Can't blame them though. Even I would tap him."
Arthur Kirkland was Alfred's older cousin, and was fresh out of a British university with a teaching degree. It just so happens the first school to accept him was Alfred's school in America, and he wound up being Alfred's homeroom and chemistry teacher. He was very popular among the girls, and some guys. He was generally very courteous, just like a gentleman, though he did have a rough side, like the nose ring he had, and his hair was never tamed. Also, his accent never failed to make his students melt. But he did have a sharp tongue, and that kept most people at bay.
"Mon cher, il est parfait." Francis sighed. Yes, Francis had his eyes for only him. Though he flirted with many girls and boys, he secretly went out with the Brit, and never hesitated to flirt with him in the corridors. (Arthur would try to shake him off, but it always failed.)
"He's a parfait?" Alfred frowned, "Isn't that like, ice cream?" Gilbert silently giggled, and Francis pouted. Without a word, he ignored Alfred. Alfred resumed his gaze at the sky.
"Also class, we have a transfer student coming from Japan." Mr. Kirkland said, after erasing the board. "He'll be coming in today, though I don't really know what time."
"We have transfer student?" Gilbert smirked, tapping his pen on his desk. "I wonder if he can reach my level of awesomeness. Maybe he's—"
"Mhmm," Alfred nodded while his mind wandered elsewhere. He caught Arthur saying "changing schools often," "midterm" and other things, though he stopped paying attention completely. He completely focused on figuring out who's cruel voice he heard in his dream…He vaguely remembered light mocha hair…
"…Yo Alfred, you can't just ignore me!" Gilbert groaned, throwing a paper ball at him. Alfred blinked and adjusted his glasses. "Geez, you can't pay attention for at least two minutes, can you?"
"Sorry," Alfred laughed. "Anyway, what were you saying?"
Gilbert breathed deeply and was about to start his explanation before Mr. Kirkland cleared his throat.
"Class," Mr. Kirkland said, "Jones, Beilschmidt, end your chit chat back there. The transfer student arrived. I'll leave the introduction to him." With that, the transfer student entered, and Alfred's eyes went so wide, you could see the white all around his eyes.
"Good Afternoon, everyone. My name is Kiku Honda." The transfer student said solemnly, his dark eyes blank. His attire was neat, with his shirt smoothed out despite the grey jacket he wore. His short hair was jet black, and his bangs were neatly combed. His eyes swept the whole class and lingered on Alfred for a moment.
Alfred just stared. They both made eye contact, and Alfred swore he saw a hint of pain behind those blank eyes. Just like the look in his dream. Before he could do anything, Kiku faced the whole class again and bowed. "Please take care of me."
"Alright, Kiku." Mr. Kirkland said promptly. "Seeing as you're new around here, I'll have to assign someone to show you around. Now, who seems proper…"
Alfred immediately raised his hand wildly. "Arthur! Arthur! I'll be his guide!" he grinned, and Mr. Kirkland grimaced. Kiku just stared before closing his eyes.
"It's quite alright, Jones, I think—" Mr. Kirkland began before Alfred shook his head fiercely. "No Ar—Mr. Kirkland sir! I know the school inside out!" Alfred tried to smile his best smile. A long and hard silence befell the class. Before long, Mr. Kirkland sighed and nodded. "Fine by me." He grumbled. "Alright Kiku, you can sit in front of that idiotic Jones there." He gestured at the empty seat.
"Of course," Kiku acknowledged before making his way to his seat. As soon as he sat down, Alfred immediately tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey," Alfred whispered. "um, Kiku, Do I…know you?"
Kiku's eyes widened for a split second before he coughed into his sleeve. "…I'm sorry; I believe we haven't met before."
"But I think we have." Alfred persisted, earning a few curious looks by nearby classmates. He continued with a softer tone. "You see, I've seen you in my—"
"I'm sorry Alfred-kun, I don't think we've seen each other until now." Kiku replied politely before facing the blackboard. "It's nice to meet you, and I look forward to our tour." He said as if he's said it a million times. It was clearly shown that Kiku wouldn't talk about it anymore.
Alfred sighed and leaned back. It was then something clicked in his head, and he leaned forward again to call the Japanese man's attention. Kiku looked tiredly at him.
"Alfred-kun, I know you might've seen me somewhere, but—"
"Hey Kiku, how do you know my name?" Alfred inquired. "I don't really recall anyone telling you my first name."
Kiku was silent, and only the voice of Arthur droned in the background. It felt like forever, until Kiku spoke again.
"I believe I saw your name in the class list briefly. Mr. Kirkland called you Jones, yes? You're the only Jones in the class list." He said shortly. Alfred's face was crestfallen, and Kiku sighed, and gave him a soft smile.
"Alfred-kun, please do not mistake my behavior as being cold." He said kindly, albeit still polite. "If we have met before, I'll say it's nice to see you again. Please pay attention to Mr. Kirkland's discussion now."
Alfred sighed and nodded, before returning to his cheerful demeanor. "So I get to tour you around right?" he said brightly. "Man, you should see our field! You can practically play any sport there! Oh, and the canteen actually has gourmet! Sweet huh? Also—"
"Jones, save the tour for lunch!" Arthur barked, and the class giggled. Even Kiku smiled a bit.
Later, Alfred said to himself, I'll ask about it next time.
Whew. C: Okay, this is my new series! Yes, I plan to finish No Reason, and yeaaaahhh…I'll try to continue my final fantasy fanfic too ;u; Having multiple series can jog my writer's block along.
Oooh, mysterious Kiku oooh clueless Alfred~ believe it or not, there is a reason why Kiku's being cold and unemotional 8D you'll have to stick around to find out!