Disclaimer: I do not own any Square Enix characters and am not making any profit from this fanfiction. Furthermore any real places are used in a fictional manner.

Warning: This fiction contains shonen-ai themes (boy's love). If that offends you in any way, please do not read. Current rating is PG-13 (K+), but it may go up with later chapters.

Main Characters: Nero and Weiss from Dirge of Cerberus

This fic is completely AU; set in modern day England and centres around Nero and Weiss although other characters from DoC will be making appearances as well. They are not brothers in this fiction and their ages are closer together than they would be in the game.

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The sun shone down brightly over the carefully manicured lawns of the prestigious public school Eton College, as it had done for over five hundred years. Just moments earlier the main square of the school had been filled with bustling boys as they rushed to class; the sons of politicians, bankers, and even royalty.

The final bell had rung some time ago, pulling the flood of bright young minds dressed in their smart black and white uniforms into the hallowed halls once again, leaving the grounds deserted save for one man, the grizzled head groundskeeper, Peter O'Connell.

There was not one student on campus that did not know about the legendary sternness of Groundskeeper O'Connell. It was a sad day for any student who trod through a newly laid bed of flowers or crashed into the perfectly trimmed hedges for the groundskeeper always seemed to be on hand to catch the culprits. Furthermore, he certainly did not allow the familial status of any of the offenders to prevent the proper dealing out of punishment. There was even rumours that once the groundskeeper had made a member of the royal family rake leaves late into the night for trampling a bed of pansies.

Peter O'Connell was as much a part of Eton as the buildings themselves for many of the boys that attended the school. His trademark tweed flat cap and pipe complimented his tall frame; his hands were gnarled from years of labour but still dexterous enough to do his job well. He had worked at Eton all his life tending to the vast stretches of greenery on campus; in fact O'Connell's had worked the grounds ever since their family left Ireland due to the potato famine.

This sunny day found him trimming the hedges that bordered the main concourse leading from the block of dormitories where the boys lived to the school buildings, the sharp metallic snips of the shears ringing out crisply in the autumnal air, no longer muted by the sounds of jubilant boys. Soon however another sound joined that of the shears, the hurried footfalls of a late student as he ran towards the classrooms. Peter stopped his work for a moment as the footfalls grew louder, taking a long pull at his pipe and waiting to see who was it was.

The grey-haired groundskeeper did not have to wait long as the student came into view, running at full tilt, but still taking the time to slow and acknowledge the older man before he dashed past completely. Peter raised his hand to the peak his cap in response, but the dark haired boy had already gone.

Peter shook his head slightly and a sad smile came to his lips as the watched the retreating form of the student. While Peter prided himself on making the effort to know of all the boys that attended the school (no small feat for a man of his age) he took extra interest in this particular boy. Not because this boy was from a rich and famous family, the opposite was in fact the truth, but because this boy stood out amongst his classmates and ended up being one of the only students that the usually unloquacious groundskeeper would speak to.

Nero Sable was the student's name, fifteen years old and attending Eton on a full scholarship. He was small for his age, with unruly black hair that seemed to always stick up no matter what he did to try to tame it and the most unusual red coloured eyes. Academically, his grades were amongst the top of the class, and he excelled particularly in art, but socially he suffered endlessly at the hands of his fellow students.

Shy to the point of being mute besides when talking was absolutely required and coming from a commoner's background made him an easy target for jokes made at his expense and general bullying. Peter had no doubt that Nero was late today because he had been locked inside a closet or some similar indignity.

With no real family to speak of, Nero often spent his weekends in the dorms and on campus, as opposed to the other boys who tended to fill their days off with visiting family and various amusements. The main and only expense that Peter could observe Nero indulging in was to buy sketchpads for drawing. On the weekends the shy student would often sit himself down in some shaded corner of the campus to draw, away from the mockery of the other students. It was like this that Peter had come to talk to him the very first time; in fact he had dumped an entire wheelbarrow of grass clippings on the boy by accident.

Peter took another pull at his pipe and exhaled slowly, watching the tendrils of smoke curl into the air and disperse before returning to his task. He had barely took up his shears again when another student walked past him, but moving at a significantly more leisurely pace than the former.

Weiss Sieger, a sixteen year old student from Germany, amongst the students on campus he stood out about as much as Nero faded into the background. Although not without his own peculiarities, the most obvious being a white mane of hair that he wore longer and styled more elaborately than the current fashion; Weiss was one of the most popular and well-liked students at the school ever since he transferred to Eton in the middle of the previous year. The tall German just seemed to have an aura of confidence around him, excelling at both academics and athletics while making friends easily, although he never seemed to particularly mind pushing against symbols of authority, causing no small amount of stress for his teachers at times.

Weiss too greeted Peter as he passed by, a gesture that was not lost on the groundskeeper. Most of the boys that attended this school were from rich families and accustomed to servants, while they certainly all knew about the groundskeeper, it was rare that he would be given the same courtesies as the faculty and visiting dignitaries to the school.

As Weiss finally disappeared from his view into the school buildings Peter once again returned to his hedges, after all no O'Connell was going to leave a job half done.

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Author Notes:

Thank you very much for reading this short prologue, I'm really just aiming to set the scene here. I have quite a bit planned for this fic and I hope everyone won't be put off too much by the AU setting. Feedback is always welcome.

Although it may seem a bit odd, this entire fic has been inspired by the strange accent that Nero has in Dirge of Cerberus.

And for those who are interested, a little bit of information about Eton College, it is indeed a real all boy's school in England. It's called a public school in the English sense, the equivalent to an American private school and is generally considered a school to the rich (the royal family tends to prefer to send their boys to Eton). Over 1000 boys aged 13-18 attend the school and they are all boarders (stay in dormitories on site). Of course I have taken many many liberties with this story, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway (and Eton won't sue me, lol).