School Days: Little!EnglandXLittle!Reader

Arthur couldn't deny the feeling of utter loneliness he felt as he walked into the kindergarten classroom. His tiny frame was masked underneath one of Allistor's old sweatshirts with a small t-shirt underneath and jeans that had been rolled up five or six times to fit his skinny legs. His shoes were worn and the soles were almost worn away completely. Kids were already whispering as he walked down the hallway with his puke green knapsack slung over his shoulder. One strap was held to the bag itself with duck tape. But he was all by himself and not with a mother or father figure like the rest of the children did.
He was the outcast.

He hated feeling alone all the time. He could only watch as his brothers went and did things with his friends while he didn't have a friend in the world. He had no friends to turn to for any form of comfort. His brothers scared everyone away, besides, who wanted to be friends with the boy who didn't even have clothes that fit him properly or a cool backpack like the others did. The only up side to any of this was that he wasn't in any of his brothers' classes. They were in grades ahead of him. He only had to avoid his brothers at recess and of course the walk home but he believed he could manage on his own.

He didn't get special birthday parties or fun days out with people that he was close to. In fact, he didn't have anyone close to him at all. The happiest he ever felt was when he pretended that he did have friends, that they were very special people who would show up at any moment and scare away his brothers. They were fantastic games of pretend but they always left him unsatisfied in the end, like taking a bite of chocolate and then discovering he would never get to have any ever again. He pretended he had friends who were loyal and protected him as he did for them but again – they were games of pretend.

"Ah, Mister Kirkland, I was wondering when you were going to get here!"

He looked up in alarm at the brown haired woman standing over him. She was smiling at him as she ushered him into her classroom. She was his homeroom teacher. He looked up at her, taking in her appearance. She could have been no older than twenty five at the most, fresh out of college by the looks of it. She had a kind, pearly white smile and gentle blue eyes, veiled by wisps of her curly locks. She was dressed semi-formally with a blue polo and tan pants. Her clothes were brand new, he noted sourly, feeling much dingier in his oversized clothes.

"I have an open seat for you right next to, Miss ___________."

Arthur looked around. He didn't know anyone named Miss ___________. He didn't know anyone's name. Was he supposed to know names before he came to class? His worry faded when you waved your hand in his direction, upon hearing your name. You were smiling at him, kindly. This small act had taken him back. No one wanted to be kind to him. He was Arthur. His brothers had drilled it into his head that no one wanted to know him. Shyly he walked over to you. You were smiling at him. You wouldn't have smiled if you knew who he was.

"Hi, I'm ________!" you said sweetly.

"I'm Arthur… Arthur Kirkland…"

You smiled at him and took his hand he gave a slight gasp of surprise and jumped back, away from you. You tilted your head to the side at the odd behavior but then you reached out and firmly grasped his hand once more. His hand quivered under yours as you gave it a shake. Arthur wasn't sure what to make of this. Any time that anyone had touched him it normally caused pain. But this was nice. He liked it. It was better than getting hit by Allistor for doing a chore wrong or chased up a tree by Dylan's dog Ripper or being beaten up by Charles. He liked having his hand shaken and he liked you. He smiled shyly back at you.

Maybe, just maybe, the games of pretend wouldn't have to be pretend anymore. Maybe he could befriend you. Maybe his brothers wouldn't scare you away. But then again, the word maybe was just as terrifying as the word if. If something happened in the place of something else, those thoughts tormented him just as much as maybe. You could grow to hate him just like everyone did over time. He was afraid to start to trust you but he wanted to do so. He decided to put himself on the line and trust you.

"So, do you like to color?" you asked.

You gestured to the drawing you had been doing before he came to sit next to you. He looked at it to see what you had been so focused on. It was a picture of two people with faeries around them. One of them was a mint green rabbit with wings. There were two people in the picture too. Neither person had a face but it was obvious that the person on the left was a male and the other person was a female. It was also a rather mediocre since it was the drawing of a five year old. Arthur noticed that there was a dragon in the background. The dragon was more detailed than the two people were. It wasn't a creation of bricks and blobs of color. Each scale on the dragon had been dutifully drawn out.

"I… I've never…"

"You've never colored before?" you guessed.

He looked down out of shame. You probably wouldn't want to talk to him anymore. He braced himself for an outburst of anger and for you to beg the teacher to move him somewhere else because you didn't want him around you anymore. You didn't say a word. You just stared at him and he began to wonder if that were worse than you screaming at him. You tilted your head to the side, as if you didn't understand what he said. Then the smile faded off your face as you finally comprehended what he had said. You considered it rather sad. You loved to draw, though you weren't as good as some of the older students were. You were better at coming up with stories than drawing.

"Well, we can fix that," You told him.

Then you reached into your desk, pulling out a piece of paper for him. With a soft smile you put it in front of Arthur so that he could use it. Shyly he looked down at it. It was just a simple blank piece of paper. It meant more to him than it obviously meant to you. There were no special designs or your name imprinted on it like other kids he had seen. He didn't think he could draw anything and ruin the perfection of the white piece of paper. He didn't want to think of what would become of it if he messed up. He didn't want to waste the only piece of paper that you had given him.

You had already gone back to your drawing without checking on him. You were working on coloring the sky blue. You looked out the window to make sure you were getting the right color of blue and then you turned back to your drawing. Then you noticed Arthur hadn't pulled out his own crayons. He wasn't drawing like you were. No one ever gave him anything or if they did it was second hand and it was something like a pair of socks – five times too big – or a hanger. Arthur swallowed hard. He really did appreciate the small gift of the paper you had given him.

"I don't have any crayons," Arthur said even softer than before.

You blinked in surprise. You pushed your crayons over to the center of the desk, silently offering the use of your crayons. Arthur stared at it for a moment and when you didn't start coloring immediately he went and picked up a random crayon. He put it to the paper for a moment. He didn't know what to draw. Slowly he looked over at you. You were drawing the sky again. He noted that you liked magical creatures like he did. What better way to get you to like him better than to draw a picture for you of something you liked? So he began drawing a picture of the faeries in spring.