Chapter Text
If there was anything even Alfred F. Jones wasn't crazy enough to do, it was challenging Ivan Braginsky to a fight. So why did he find himself standing before his rival, ready to fight him?
Alfred stood in the local park, facing Ivan Braginsky. The air was tense, and the usual surroundings blurred into an indistinct haze. Ivan's eyes were like chips of ice, his posture radiating a calm menace that made Alfred’s stomach twist with a mix of fear and something he couldn't quite name.
"You're not backing down now, are you, Jones?" Ivan's voice was a low, dangerous murmur, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Not a chance," Alfred shot back, though his voice wavered slightly. He clenched his fists, feeling the familiar surge of determination, and lunging first, aiming a punch at Ivan's jaw. Ivan dodged effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise. He countered with a swift jab that Alfred barely managed to block. The impact reverberated through Alfred's arm, reminding him just how strong his rival truly was.
As they exchanged blows, Alfred couldn't help but notice the small details about Ivan that his subconscious seemed to amplify. The way his silver hair caught the light, the intensity in his violet eyes, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with every movement. But, despite that, Ivan was arrogant, cold, and insufferably perfect.
With a swift kick, Ivan knocked Alfred off balance. He landed hard on the ground, the breath knocked out of him. Ivan loomed over him, his smirk widening. "Is that all you've got, Jones?"
Alfred gritted his teeth and scrambled to his feet, refusing to back down. He charged at Ivan again, their bodies colliding in a flurry of punches and kicks. Despite his best efforts, Ivan seemed to anticipate his every move, countering with an ease that infuriated Alfred.
Finally, Ivan landed a solid punch to Alfred's gut, sending him sprawling to the ground once more. This time, he couldn't get up. He lay there, gasping for breath, as Ivan knelt beside him.
"You never learn, do you?" he whispered, his voice dripping with condescension.
Before Alfred could respond, Ivan's lips brushed against his. Alfred's eyes widened in shock, his heart pounding in his chest. The world tilted and...
He woke in a cold sweat, his heart racing.
"Alfred! Get up! Unless you want me to unleash Hero on you!""
Alfred blinked, disoriented, and looked toward the door. Matthew, his twin brother, was standing there, already dressed and ready. Alfred shook off the remnants of the dream, nodding as he climbed out of bed. "Yeah, yeah, I'm up," he muttered as his cat, Hero jumped onto his bed. "Hey, girl, good morning to you too," he smiled as he pet his cat affectionately on the head.
He went to his closet and pulled out his school uniform, trying to ignore the lingering thoughts of Ivan. As he changed, he couldn't help but replay the dream. The fight, Ivan's smirk, the kiss. He shuddered, shaking his head to clear it.
In the bathroom, Alfred brushed his teeth and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, trying to tame it into something presentable as he glanced down at his forearms, the recent scars stark against his skin. Sighing, he grabbed a roll of bandages and started to wrap them up.
"Alfred, you coming?" Matthew called from downstairs.
"Yeah, just a sec!" Alfred replied, tightening the bandages.
Downstairs, the smell of breakfast greeted him. Matthew was at the table, sipping orange juice. "Ready for the first day, genius?" Matthew teased, a grin spreading across his face.
Alfred rolled his eyes as he set out bowls for Hero and Canada's dog, Kumajiro, whenever he decided to wake up. "Yeah, yeah. How about you, mister, 'still doesn't have the guts to talk to Gilbert'?"
Matthew's cheeks turned pink. "Shut up, Alfred."
Alfred chuckled but then noticed Matthew's gaze flicker to his bandaged arms; his brother's expression softened with concern. "Did you disinfect those? The bandages look off."
Alfred sighed. "No, I just... forgot."
Matthew stood up, his resolve firm. "Come on, let's fix that." He led Alfred to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit, his touch gentle but precise as he carefully disinfected and rebandaged Alfred's cuts.
"Why don't you go into medicine if you care for people so much?" Alfred asked, wincing slightly as the antiseptic stung.
Matthew shrugged, focused on his task. "I'm not smart enough for that. Besides, I just know the basics. I help when I can, that's all."
"You're super smart, Mattie don't say that! But what do you want to do?" Alfred pressed.
Matthew paused, his eyes reflecting uncertainty. "I don't know yet. I'm not a prodigy like you guys. I'm just... me."
Alfred didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded. They finished up and left the bathroom to find their father, Francis, sitting in the kitchen, a rare sight.
"Papa!" Matthew exclaimed, surprise evident in his voice.
Francis smiled warmly. "Couldn't miss my boys' first day of high school, now could I?"
"Where's Dad?" Alfred asked
"At the office. Emergency meeting," Francis explained. "But I'm here."
The twins exchanged a look of pleasant surprise. "Thanks, Papa," Alfred said, feeling a little better about the day ahead.
As they finished their breakfast, Francis offered to drive them to school. Alfred sat in the passenger seat while Matthew sat in the back, nervously fidgeting with his backpack. The car ride was filled with chatter and laughter, easing the tension of the first day of school.
As they pulled up to the school gates, Alfred spotted Gilbert standing near the entrance, his white hair unmistakable even from a distance. Excitement bubbled in Alfred's chest as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
"Hey, there's Gilbert!" Alfred exclaimed, turning to Matthew with a mischievous grin.
Matthew felt his face flush as he saw Gilbert, his long-time crush, organizing his locker. He tried to compose himself, but his heart raced with nervousness.
Alfred hopped out of the car and walked over to Gilbert, greeting him with a casual wave. "Hey, Gil! Long time no see."
Matthew followed behind his brother, feeling like his feet were made of lead. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to leap out of his throat as they neared Gilbert and his friends. Gilbert spotted them, and his face lit up with a bright smile.
"Alfred! Matthew!" Gilbert exclaimed, patting Alfred on the shoulder before turning to Matthew. "Hey, Mattie. How've you been?"
Matthew could barely get the words out as he stuttered, "H-Hey, Gilbert. Good, good. How about you?"
Gilbert raised an eyebrow at Matthew's nervousness but didn't comment. Instead, he continued the conversation with Alfred, asking about their summer and sharing some stories from his own.
“Yeah, so I was in Germany with Ludwig and my Mama and Papa visiting all these cool castles," Gilbert recounted with excitement, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.
Alfred listened intently, hanging on Gilbert's every word. Meanwhile, Matthew stood by awkwardly, feeling like a third wheel but unable to tear his gaze away from Gilbert.
"Hey, Mattie. You seem a bit quiet today. Everything okay?" Gilbert asked, his voice gentle and concerned.
Matthew's heart skipped a beat at the genuine concern in Gilbert's eyes. He felt a rush of emotions swirling inside him, unsure whether to spill the truth or keep his feelings hidden. Taking a deep breath, he mustered up the courage to reply.
"I... I'm just nervous about starting high school," Matthew admitted his voice barely above a whisper.
Gilbert's expression softened even more, his hand squeezing Matthew's shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, it's okay; you're awesome, and you're going to do great. And if you ever need someone to talk to or hang out with during lunch, I'm here for you, alright?"
A wave of gratitude washed over Matthew at Gilbert's kindness. He managed a small smile and nodded in response. "Th-thanks, Gilbert. I appreciate it... a lot."
Gilbert returned the smile, his red eyes sparkling warmly. "Anytime, Mattie. Now go ace those classes! I'll see you around."
Alfred smirked as he gave Gilbert a fist bump, staring at Matthew as Gilbert pulled him into a hug. The hug lasted a little longer than expected, Matthew reveling in the warmth and comfort of Gilbert's embrace. Time seemed to slow down as he breathed in Gilbert's familiar scent, his heart beating in sync with Gilbert's steady heartbeat.
But all too soon, the moment ended as they both pulled away, their gazes lingering briefly before Gilbert flashed a friendly smile and headed off to his first class.
Alfred clapped Matthew on the back, a knowing grin on his face. "Oh my God, I can’t believe he did that! Maybe there's hope for you yet."
Matthew blushed furiously, swatting Alfred away playfully as they made their way towards their respective classes. As they walked through the bustling halls of the school, Alfred caught sight of his best friend Kiku up ahead, a serene expression on his face as he meticulously organized his books.
"Hey, Kiku!" Alfred called out, picking up his pace to catch up with him.
Kiku turned around, his black eyes lighting up at the sight of Alfred, although they flickered with concern as he caught sight of the bandages. "Alfred! It's good to see you. How was your summer? Are you..doing alright?
Alfred paused at Kiku's unexpected question before regaining his composure. “It was great! We went to this amazing beach house my parents rented for the whole family, but it was mostly just Mattie and I. The sunsets there were unreal," Alfred said, a wide grin spreading across his face. "And yeah, I'm fine, Kiku; don't worry about me."
Kiku's eyes sparkled with interest as he listened, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recognized Alfred's request to drop the topic. "That sounds lovely, Alfred. I spent most of my summer in Japan with my grandparents. They needed help with the business.”
Alfred nodded, genuinely intrigued by Kiku's dedication to his family business. “Wow, that sounds amazing! So, are you thinking about any internships this year- shoot, there’s my class - gotta go!”
Kiku sighed in amusement before waving goodbye to his friend as he rushed into the math classroom.
As Alfred rushed into the classroom, grabbing an empty seat near the front, Mr. Janssens stood at the front of the room, a stack of papers in hand as he prepared to distribute the syllabus.
"Welcome, everyone, to AP Calculus BC," Mr. Janssens began, his voice carrying authority yet warmth. "Please take a syllabus from the front desk and pass the rest back," Mr. Janssens instructed, his sharp eyes scanning the room.
Mr. Janssens then proceeded to give a brief introduction of himself, detailing his passion for calculus and his high expectations for the class. He made it clear that AP Calculus BC was one of the most challenging courses offered at the school, meant to push students to their limits and beyond.
Without wasting any time, Mr. Janssens dove straight into the lesson, writing complex equations on the board and challenging the students to solve them. The room buzzed with concentrated energy as pencils scratched against paper and brains worked at full capacity.
Suddenly, Mr. Janssens turned to Alfred, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alfred, care to solve this one for us?" he inquired, pointing to a seemingly impossible equation on the board.
Alfred's heart raced with excitement as Mr. Janssens singled him out for the challenging task. Unfazed by the complexity of the equation, Alfred leaned forward, his mind already working at lightning speed to dissect the problem.
In a matter of moments, Alfred saw the pattern hidden within the equation, a smile playing on his lips as he effortlessly unraveled the math before him. With precise calculations and elegant strokes of his pen, he flawlessly navigated through the derivatives and limits, arriving at the solution with a sense of ease that left his classmates in awe.
As the final answer materialized on his paper, Alfred glanced up to meet Mr. Janssens' gaze, finding a look of astonishment and respect in the teacher's eyes. The rest of the class was silent, their attention fully captivated by Alfred's prowess in solving a graduate-level question as if it were child's play.
Mr. Janssens stood there for a moment, his usual air of unshakeable composure momentarily disrupted by an expression of genuine surprise etched upon his features. Slowly, a faint yet perceptible nod of approval escaped him, a rare acknowledgment that spoke volumes in the hushed reverence of the classroom.
"Remarkable, Alfred," Mr. Janssens finally spoke, his voice carrying a faint note of admiration that echoed throughout the room. "Consider me…impressed.”
The other students in the room turned to stare at Alfred, their eyes wide with disbelief at Mr. Janssens' unprecedented praise. The renowned calculus teacher was infamous for his unyielding standards and stoic demeanor, rarely ever showing approval or admiration for any student, let alone on the very first day of class. Alfred could feel the weight of the moment settle upon him, a mixture of pride and astonishment coursing through his veins.
As the class continued, Mr. Janssens seamlessly transitioned back into his role as an unyielding taskmaster, challenging the students with more intricate problems and delving into the depths of calculus theory with unwavering intensity. However, there was a subtle shift in his interactions with Alfred, a thread of respect woven into his tone whenever he addressed the young prodigy.
At the end of the lesson, just before dismissing the class, Mr. Janssens dropped a bombshell that sent ripples of excitement through the room. "I have an announcement to make," he began, his eyes scanning the faces before him. "There is an internship opportunity available for one, or maybe even two, exceptional students in this class—a chance to work alongside Dr. Edelstein, a world-renowned mathematician and professor at Princeton University."
Alfred's pulse quickened with a mixture of thrill and trepidation at the mention of Dr. Edelstein's name. The renowned mathematician was a legend in academic circles, his groundbreaking research and innovative theories shaping the very landscape of modern mathematics. Every math nerd knew who Dr. Edelstein was, and to have the opportunity to work alongside him was nothing short of a dream come true.
As Mr. Janssens continued, his gaze settled on Alfred with a knowing glint in his eyes. "But," he added, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "there is a catch. Dr. Edelstein only accepts two interns per year out of tens of thousands, and to even be considered, you must have a recommendation from an AP-level math teacher."
The renowned calculus teacher continued, his gaze piercing the sea of expectant faces. "However, I only give two recommendations per year for this internship opportunity. Two out of the 150 students I teach and tutor," he announced, his voice unwavering yet tinged with a sense of gravitas. "And those recommendations are reserved for the best of the best—those who have mastered the art of mathematics and shown exceptional dedication, passion, and potential."
Alfred's heart sank as he realized the challenge's enormity. The odds seemed insurmountable, like trying to grasp infinity within a finite equation's confines.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the class, Alfred found himself lingering behind, his usual air of unshakeable composure momentarily disrupted by a flicker of uncertainty.
"Mr. Janssens," Alfred began tentatively, his voice betraying a rare hint of vulnerability as he addressed the esteemed teacher. "I...I have a few questions about this internship opportunity if you don't mind."
Mr. Janssens regarded Alfred with a keen gaze, his expression inscrutable yet not devoid of warmth. "Of course, Alfred," he replied, gesturing for the young prodigy to take a seat. "Ask away."
Alfred hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with a multitude of questions and doubts. Finally, he gathered his thoughts and spoke with a tinge of nervousness in his voice, "What’s it like to work with Dr. Edelstein?”
Mr. Janssens leaned back in his chair, his eyes taking on a distant look as he began to paint a vivid picture of the prestigious internship opportunity. "It’s…incredible - I worked alongside him during university, and he’s truly a prodigy," he explained, his words resonating with a sense of awe and reverence. "Dr. Edelstein has a way of pushing his interns to their limits, challenging them to think outside the box and explore the uncharted territories of mathematics. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn from a master of the field."
Alfred listened intently, his eyes alight with a newfound determination. The prospect of working alongside Dr. Edelstein was both exhilarating and intimidating, but he knew deep down that it was an opportunity he couldn't afford to pass up. “And what does he look for in his interns?”
Mr. Janssens' gaze softened as he regarded Alfred, a glimmer of pride flickering in his eyes. "Dr. Edelstein looks for passion, Alfred," he explained, his voice tinged with reverence. "He values dedication and curiosity in the field of mathematics. But above all, he looks for your potential to succeed.”
"Thank you, Mr. Janssens," Alfred said earnestly, gratitude shining in his eyes as he rose from his seat. "I'll do anything to earn that recommendation."
Mr. Janssens nodded in approval, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I have no doubt about that, Alfred. You have a gift—a rare talent that few possess. Don’t let that gift go to waste."
“I won’t, thank you, Mr. Janssens.”
With that, Alfred left the classroom with a renewed sense of purpose, his mind already racing with plans and strategies to secure the coveted internship with Dr. Edelstein. As he hurried through the bustling hallways towards his next class, English, a sense of dread began to creep over him.
When he arrived at the English classroom, he was met with the curious gazes of his classmates and the disapproving frown of Mrs. Vargas, their strict English teacher. Without missing a beat, she motioned for Alfred to take the only available seat left in the front row next to Ivan Braginsky.
Alfred felt a wave of discomfort wash over him as he settled into his seat beside Ivan, who regarded him with a cool detachment that sent a shiver down Alfred's spine.
“Late again, Jones?” Ivan inquired, his violet eyes piercing into his soul as he brushed a strand of his ashen blonde hair from his face.
"I prefer to think of it as fashionably late, Braginsky," Alfred replied with a smug grin, his voice laced with a hint of defiance.
Ivan raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned closer to Alfred. "Well, well, always the charmer, aren't we?" Ivan said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I hope your sense of style makes up for your lack of punctuality."
Alfred bristled at the remark but quickly composed himself, refusing to let Ivan get under his skin.
“Nice to see you've still got that winning personality," Alfred retorted, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I guess something has to compensate for your lack of fashion sense."
Ivan's smirk faltered momentarily before he regained his composure, his icy violet eyes narrowing slightly. "At least I prioritize intellect," he shot back smoothly. "You might want to try it sometime."
Mrs. Vargas cleared her throat, her no-nonsense expression daring the two boys to continue their banter. Sensing the tension in the air, she briskly changed the subject. "Enough chit-chat, gentlemen. Let's get started."
She approached her desk and picked up a stack of worn leather journals, each adorned with intricate designs hinting at the creativity stored within. She handed a journal to each student with a smile before addressing the class.
"Today, we begin our journey of self-discovery through writing," Mrs. Vargas announced, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Your first prompt is to reflect on your summer—its best and worst parts."
Excitement buzzed through the classroom as students eagerly flipped open their journals and began to jot down their memories. Alfred, however, felt his heart sink like a stone in his chest. The thought of pouring his innermost thoughts onto the page for all to see made his hands tremble with anxiety.
As the minutes ticked by, Alfred squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to block out the thoughts, the feelings of inadequacy, and the uneven pattern of his breathing.
Mrs. Vargas noticed Alfred's struggle and paused in her pacing across the room. With a gentle smile, she whispered, "Why aren’t you writing, Alfred?”
“I…um, I just…I just need a moment, Mrs. Vargas," Alfred stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. The blank page before him seemed to mock his insecurities, taunting him with its vast emptiness.
Mrs. Vargas' gaze softened as she knelt down beside Alfred's desk, her presence a comforting anchor in the sea of his turmoil. "Writing is a journey, Alfred," she said softly, her voice carrying a wealth of understanding. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed—it's all part of the process."
Alfred nodded gratefully, but there was still just…nothing. He saw the images in his mind, the days on the beach and the laughter with friends, but the words refused to materialize on the page. Frustration gnawed at him as he struggled to articulate his thoughts, the turmoil threatening to consume him whole.
Alfred's mind raced as he stared at the blank page before him, feeling the weight of expectation pressing down on his shoulders. He could hear the scratching of pens and pencils around him, a reminder of his own inability to put pen to paper. The memories of his summer seemed distant and unattainable, shrouded in a fog that refused to lift.
Just as his panic threatened to consume him, Mrs. Vargas stopped the class, drawing three names from a hat to read their writing. The room held its breath as she called out the chosen students: Ivan, Matthew, and Ludwig.
As he walked to the front of the classroom, Ivan couldn't resist shooting Alfred a smug look as he began to read aloud, his voice strong and sure. Each word flowed effortlessly from his lips, painting a vivid picture of his summer, writing his book and traveling to Europe. However, Alfred couldn't help but notice a few missed details. For example, Ivan claimed that he went to Spain but then mentioned the Belém Tower in Portugal. Despite that, Alfred watched in awe at how Ivan brought his memories to life on the page, making Alfred feel like he was right there with him. However, his admiration for Ivan's storytelling quickly morphed into resentment, a bitter taste settling in his mouth as he listened to the effortless flow of words that seemed to elude him.
As Ivan recounted his summer, the classroom erupted into applause, Mrs. Vargas' approving smile warming the room. Meanwhile, Alfred felt a knot tighten in his stomach, a potent mix of jealousy and self-doubt coiling within him.
When class ended, Ivan turned to Alfred as they were packing up their belongings, a smug grin playing on his lips. "Not feeling so inspired today, huh?" he taunted, his voice laced with a hint of superiority.
Alfred's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tensing as he struggled to contain the surge of anger bubbling within him. "It's none of your business, Braginsky," he shot back, his tone sharp with irritation.
"Oh, it's definitely my business when you can't even string a few words together," Ivan sneered, his eyes flashing with challenge.
"I would rather struggle with my words than fabricate stories like you do," Alfred retorted, his voice sharp with accusation. His words cut through the air like a knife, carrying with them the weight of all the pent-up frustration and envy he had been harboring.
Ivan's smirk faltered momentarily before being replaced by a flash of anger. "Fabricate? My stories are as real as they come, unlike your feeble attempts at creativity," he shot back, his own temper flaring in response to Alfred's accusation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m already late for my advisory."
With one final scowl, Ivan shouldered his bag and stormed out of the classroom, leaving Alfred seething with mixed emotions. His heart pounded in his chest as he gathered his things, trying to shake off the lingering tension from the confrontation. As he made his way through the crowded hallways towards his advisory, Alfred's mind raced, replaying the heated exchange with Ivan over and over again.
Upon reaching the door marked with his advisory number, Alfred took a deep breath and pushed it open. The room was filled with clusters of students chatting animatedly, their voices blending into a low hum that filled the air.
His advisor approached him as he entered the room, his gaze sharp as it settled on Alfred. “Hello, Mr…”
“Oh, um, Jones! Alfred Jones.”
"Alfred Jones…I won’t mark you as late this time, but please remember to be punctual. I’m Mr. Zwingli, and I’ll be your advisor and potentially your history teacher for this year," Mr. Zwingli explained, his tone carefully neutral as he gestured for Alfred to take a seat.
Alfred nodded as he scanned the room; his eyes widened in disbelief when they landed on the face of another student sitting across the room - Ivan Braginsky.
Ivan met Alfred's gaze with a mixture of surprise and something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
“Oh hell no,” Alfred muttered as he settled in the furthest seat he could find from Ivan, next to another student who seemed just as terrifying, sighing as he did so.
This was going to be a long year.