Since these were all pretty short anyway, I combined these last three into one chapter.

Viewpoints: Hercules, Ludwig, Lovino

Kiku and I walked to my house, where we sat on the porch and waited for the cats to come; we had been doing this every week for a while now.

"Hey . . . Kiku?" I said as a tabby approached me with a meow. "Are you . . . planning to do . . . anything special . . . this summer?"

"I do not have anything special planned," he said quietly, stroking a tortoiseshell. "What about you, Hercules?"

I looked at him curiously. "You . . . didn't say the . . . –kun with it?"

He looked down. "Ah, forgive me . . . you must think that I am very rude . . ."

"Why?"

"In . . . in my culture, not using an ending with someone's name means that the two people are very close. But if that closeness is not earned, then it is very rude."

There was a moment of silence.

"I didn't . . . know that," I said softly. "I don't . . . think you're rude."

He looked at me. "Then . . . Hercules?"

"Hm?"

He smiled. "Nothing."

I dropped my backpack on the ground and lay back on my bed. A moment later Gilbert was looking down at me.

"What?" I said.

"Don'tcha wanna do something?" he asked.

"Not really," I said. "Leave me alone; I'm tired."

"C'mon, Luddie, we're done with school!"

"I'd figured that out for myself, thanks," I snapped.

"Oh, I see what's wrong," he said suddenly, grinning.

"What?"

"You regret not finding your long-lost love, right?"

"I—where did that come from?"

He shrugged. "Intuition?"

I sighed. "I just don't know where I can look. You never met her, I don't have any yearbooks from elementary school, and I can't recall anyone ever going to that school who I know now."

"Yeah, sucks to be you," he said. "Have fun hunting."

He stood up and went for the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked suspiciously.

"I'm going to get drunk, do drugs, and pick up some hookers," he said sarcastically, opening the door. Turning around, he saw Vater standing just outside.

"Oh, shit," he said. "I mean, hi, Vati!"

"Ugh, thank god we get the day off," I muttered, throwing my backpack to the ground. "I'm tired."

"Me too!" Toni said. As I sat down on the couch, he came and sat next to me; I didn't protest. "Lovi, I was thinking . . ."

"You can think?"

"I was thinking," he said, "about that thing that Matt's hair thing can do."

"The French thing?" I said. "Yeah, it's weird, what about it?"

"Don't be rude!" he exclaimed. He reached across and grabbed my curl. "I was just wondering if yours does something weird too."

"Hey—let go—" I exclaimed, feeling heat shooting through my body.

"Well, it doesn't change your language," Toni commented—he still wasn't letting go—while twirling the stupid thing between his fingers.

"Let go—bastard—" I exclaimed.

"Lovi, you're all red like a tomato!" he exclaimed, leaning closer to my face. "Are you feeling okay?"

"L-Let . . . go . . ." I mumbled, staring at him.

"Is that what it does? It makes your face go red?" he started tugging on it and twisting it between his fingers.

Before I realized what I was doing, I leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth.

~Fin~

Sequel's finally up!

/s/10518120/1/The-Bad-the-Italian-and-the-Good