Chapter Text
To me Arthur Kirkland was never just a friend.
We were next door neighbors, secondary school classmates, college roommates. We'd seen each other across the street from when we were 8 to when we were 18, and that kind of lack of privacy meant that there was almost nothing between us. We knew each other's favourite food, movies, the baseball teams we would cheer for, the girls I had liked and those who liked him...You get the idea.
I guess we were something like what people called best buddies. The kind that you would slap their back and say, "Yeah, that's my man."
At that time I never imagined anything that could tear us apart. Anything that could possibly ruin our friendship.
But somehow, we managed to fuck it all up.
01.
My name is Wang Yao, but it could also be the other way round, Yao Wang, as people put their first name second here. My parents migrated from China to the United Kingdom when I was 6, and I was taught Chinese at home and English at school.
I had to admit that I was rather lucky being a kid who grew up in another country. My first two years in England was...peaceful. No racism. No bullying. No being made fun of others. None of the horrid things I had imagined.
Yet still I didn't make many friends, because I was still trying hard to fit in and kids, though many of them friendly, tend to stick to people who were similar to themselves, so there was no place for me to fit in. It was sometimes disappointing, but I was okay with that.
That was, before Arthur Kirkland came into my life.
To be honest, I didn't welcome him at first. Our first encounter was not actually pleasurable, where he decidedly took me as a girl and I decidedly took him as a snob.
It all began when the sign at the gate of the house next door turned from "for sale" to "sold out". Trucks started appearing on the lane and I got quite annoyed by the fuss people were making across the road, arguing about which furniture should be put where and things like that. A week later it was finally all settled and a fancy silver car drove into the garage instead of trucks.
My mum announced happily at dinner that the new family, Kirkland, had a boy at my age. I guess they assumed that their "Yao" was finally going to get a playmate.
I was hopeful, at least, at first. But maybe I shouldn't had let my hopes up. When their cat ran into our yard the next morning, I looked from the window and saw a blond wearing a suit and a tie running to catch it.
Uh-oh. Definitely not someone I could play baseball with.
He spent 5 minutes trying to talk his cat out of the bush, but it seemed to find the daisies my mother planted more interesting and disappeared with a brush of its long fluffy tail. Then, being the little gentleman like he was, he didn't climb over the fence like most kids did but just stood at the door, not knowing whether to knock.
"Shy kid, huh?" I mumbled to myself and opened the window. Poking my head out from the flower pots, I called: "Just go over the fence!"
He looked up, trying to find the source of the sound, and I saw the bushiest eyebrows I had ever seen.
Then our eyes met.
His eyes were green. Leaf green, framed between the blondness of his lashes. I had to admit that he was very good-looking when that sulky expression disappeared.
For a moment he just stared at me. I soon got uncomfortable and called out again: "That's your cat, right? Just go get it! My parents won't mind." He jumped a little, turned red and looked around quickly. "Fine, I mean, thanks...And stop looking at me."
Now I was seriously annoyed. As if I wanted to! Who did he think he was!
I huffed and left the window. After changing out of my pajamas, I threw on a plain T-shirt and went downstairs to make myself breakfast. Mum and Dad were both out working extra hours, so it was just me in the house, not that I minded. Saturday mornings were quiet. I got to sleep late, not bother myself with studies and play a few hours of video games.
But maybe...
I finished my cookies and milk and decided to get a little morning exercise by giving the garden a good sprinkle. It would be too hot to water it in the middle of the day. And that was when I saw that kid, still in our garden, pretending to look at the flower bushes and trying not to catch my eye.
...Maybe I should add a "usually" to the "quiet".
"What are you still doing here?" I crossed my arms and tried to keep my tone friendly.
He turned around, those green eyes taking in my appearance. I hadn't brushed my hair and it was looking a bit windy. Not fully dressed either--shirt and shorts, sneakers, no socks--probably looked a bit too casual, but hey, not all people wore suits on weekends, or was that a British thing?
"I lost him."The kid shrugged.
I raised an eyebrow. "How come--"
"Meow."
We both looked down. A ginger cat was nuzzling against my bare legs, pawing my shoes to get my attention--probably because I smelled like food. I couldn't help notice that it had beautiful emerald-like eyes, just like its owner.
The boy cursed. "Henry, come back!" He started to come over, but I scooped it up in a flash. "He's mine now." I flashed him a grin, "Weakling."
"That's not what a lady should say." He scoffed.
"Well, duh." I said. Now it was his turn to stare.
Then it hit me.
I nearly dropped the cat, and Henry, as it was called, probably sensed danger and squirmed out of my arms, disappearing into a bush.
"You're not thinking--"
"You're not a girl?"
Let me clear things up. In China most of the boys wear their hair short, but some families, like mine, prefer their sons to have long hair as a symbol of good luck. In my first year here people did sometimes mistake me for a girl, but my face didn't exactly look girly and after I started to pull a ponytail things like this happened less and less. I thought I was finally over this, but no-no.
The blond's gaze landed on my shorts.
...Should I call that a sexual harassment?
I inhaled deeply, counted to three before bottling up my anger and trying not to strangle the green-eyed devil. I was just turning around to walk away when I heard footsteps behind me.
"Hey, I didn't mean--"
He grabbed me by the wrist.
"Let go!" I tried to wriggle free, but the kid got a death grip. And when I was doing that big windmill thing to shake his hand off, I somehow tripped over my own shoe and fell, bringing him down with me.
...
"Get off me!"
"I'm trying to!"
"Ouch, that's my hair!"
"That's unavoidable! Your hair is everywhere!"
"I'm going to kill you, you-Ugh!"
...
What we finally made was a man-ball mess in the middle of the garden. His arm was locked around my shoulder, pressed down by my weight, and my legs somehow got tangled between his, unable to move.
"Well, " I glared at that damn face hovering above me, "I guess you're no gentleman either."
"Shut up." His cheeks were complete red. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorr--"
"Arthur Kirkland!!!"
I felt his body stiffen.
"What do you think you're doing, young man!!!"
Looks like the devil had a name. And a very angry mother too.
Back in the Kirklands' house I was starting to get tired of saying "That's all right" as Mrs Kirkland apologized to me again and again. Henry decidedly claimed my lap as his new throne and licked away at my finger happily. Arthur just rolled his eyes behind his mother's back as she swept away his big paw prints.His suit was a bit crumpled from all that fighting and there were a few grass stains below his knee.
I kind of felt sorry for that.
A little.
His suit, I mean.
Their house was all fancy and polished and gleaming, literally gleaming, which made me feel a bit small. They were rich, I could tell.
"What's your name, sweetie?" Mrs Kirkland, a very elegant lady by the way, with long blonde curls and sharp brown eyes, asked.
Finally, a change of the subject...
"Yao." I answered, then added quickly, "Yao, Wang." "How lovely. I've been dying to meet your family, but we haven't settled properly yet and everything's still a mess...But I guess my son beat me to it."
She eyed the boy and Arthur suddenly became very interested in the pink rose in the vase nearby.
"His name is Arthur. I think you kids will go to the same school this new semester. You study in Hetalia Primary, right?" I nodded. "Great! Maybe you could even become classmates!" Mrs Kirkland's eyes lit up.
Uh-oh. Not my top 10 favourite things to do.
I stole a glance at the British kid and noticed him watching me, fingers twirling around the stem of the half-bloomed rose.
We locked eyes for a moment and I imagined him sitting in our classroom next to me saying "Ladies first"...
I shuddered at the thought. Being mistaken for a girl was definitely not the best way to start a friendship, not to mention that I might not even want to be friends with him. Punching him in the face sounded better.
He withdrew his gaze a few seconds later and went back to study the flower, which was now the same colour as his ear tips. Your son coloured so easily, I wanted to tell Mrs Kirkland.
Was it my presence that made him so uncomfortable? I shifted in my seat uneasily. Did I have leftover food on my mouth? There was a mirror on the table and I glanced at it quickly. My amber eyes stared right back.
No, I was looking fine, my hair now brushed out using the expensive-looking comb his mother had lent me. Maybe he was still shocked that I was actually a boy like him. Poor guy still got a long way to go.
"I hope your parents won't mind if I borrow you for a few more minutes?" Mrs Kirkland looked through the window across the street. I shrugged. "They're not at home, and they don't mind what I do as long as I come home before noon."
"That's nice. You can stay with us if you want to during this time." She glanced at the clock. "And oh my, look at the time! You must be hungry--What would you like, Yao?" She pronounced it like "Wao", "Tea or some juice?"
"Umm...Tea would be fine, thank you Madam." I picked at Henry's fur nervously. I hoped secretly that there won't be servants or maids appearing out of thin air but soon banished the idea. It was the 21st century, for god's sake!
Mrs Kirkland turned to look at her son. "You heard her, Arthur. Get the young lady some tea."
I grimaced. Arthur saw my expression and a laugh tugged at the comers of his mouth.
...I guess it was going to be a troublesome summer after all.