Chapter Eight

Blackmail

Ludwig waited until Feliciano had been picked up by his grandfather before booting up his laptop and checking his email for the 'information' that Francis had promised earlier. Even though Ludwig still wasn't one hundred percent sure that he wanted to start using information on Arthur Kirkland, he clicked on the email anyway.

Ludwig didn't want to ask how Francis had gained his email address. He did not want to know which 'sources' had given him that.

The email had an attachment to it, but before he clicked on the attachments, he skimmed his eyes over the little message that Francis had typed along with it.

These should help. You're little contest should open with a bang, after all.

~Francis.

Opening up the attachments, Ludwig understood exactly why Francis had claimed that he'd be able to start with a 'bang'. Francis had sent him five pictures, each of them including Arthur with Alfred Jones.

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. These pictures were perfect for what he was about to do.

By the time classes had finished, Ludwig had already set up a meeting with Arthur. Having rattled off an excuse to the other members of the newspaper club that he would be late because he had to talk numbers with Arthur, the German steadily made his way to the meet-up place he'd organised.

The old newspaper room, Ludwig had decided, would suffice.

Sitting in his own chair, Ludwig didn't understand why he felt so much like a villain – maybe it was because he was waiting with a folder of five printed out pictures in his bag. Maybe it was because he was about to blackmail someone. Either way he felt horrendously like the bad guy in the situation.

His mind found itself lingering onto the newest word on Feliciano's hand. Lies had been written in green pen, and it only caused Ludwig's head to grow more conflicted. Hadn't he lied to his friends by saying that he was simply talking numbers with Kirkland?

Arthur Kirkland entered the room after a few minutes. Ludwig wiped the thought of good and bad from his mind. He wasn't good or bad in their predicament – not really – because they were both jumping over the line between right and wrong. The thought would only cause him to get grow more conflicted.

Kirkland closed the door behind him, his eyes looking around the old room with a look of disgust. His emerald eyes switched emotion however, as they settled on Ludwig, expressing a look of disdain instead.

Ludwig didn't understand why Kirkland seemed to hate him, but he didn't really care either.

The two teenagers stared silently at each other. Ludwig was waiting for Kirkland to say something – to make an offhand comment about how they hadn't even started to make their quota. Kirkland was probably waiting for Ludwig to open the conversation.

Neither spoke; neither dared to be the one to open the conversation even though they both seemed to have so much to say.

Kirkland was the first to break – probably because he had the shorter temper. "What do you want Beilschmidt?"

The words were practically spat out, laced with venom and acid. Ludwig couldn't help but find the Brit amusing as he stood arrogantly by the door.

"I want you to sit down." Ludwig replied, his voice calmer – steadier. He pointed at the chair opposite him, with an expectant look, "So that we can settle some things."

"I'd prefer to stand. That way I can leave this horrid place quickly."

"Sit." Ludwig repeated. This meeting was on his terms – he'd have his own way, no matter how childish it seemed.

Kirkland repented, and walked over to the chair. He pulled it out with so much force and speed that it screeched as it scraped against the floor. The Brit's scowl deepened as he folded his arms over his stomach and sat down.

"There are a few things I wanted to clear up," Ludwig started when Kirkland had settled in his seat. In his head, Ludwig could see Feliciano and Kiku shaking their heads at him in disappointment, "about the newspaper club."

Kirkland bristled. "What about that stupid club?"

Ludwig paused for a moment, thinking over what he was going to say next so that it wouldn't come out in the wrong way. "You don't really care for the club, am I correct?"

Kirkland shrugged his shoulders, leaning his arms on the table. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "You're correct. I have no care for the newspaper club and its workings."

Ludwig nodded, "I thought that was it. So… You're after something else, something different than the money the newspaper club owes. You're after a… excuse me while I sound childish, but you want to play a game with the school. Yes?"

Kirkland's face was blank, and then slowly, his lips tugged upwards into a smile. There was silence for a few minutes, until suddenly the Brit clapped his hands together twice. "Ah, so you're finally getting the picture. It took you a while."

Ludwig bristled, "It only took me a while because I had to think whether I wanted to take part."

Kirkland raised one of his bushy eyebrows, his passive expression returning. He leaned forward a bit, watching Ludwig carefully. "So you've come to a decision then, about whether you're going to play my little game or not?"

Ludwig took a breath. For a moment, he was going to say no, despite his plan that had brought him to the room in the first place. However, within seconds, his memory reminded him of what Arthur Kirkland had already done, and he realised that he was already playing the teenagers game whether he wanted to be or not.

"I will, on one condition." Ludwig made sure that his voice was steady, despite the nerves he was feeling. He wasn't about to start a school… war… was he? Kirkland raised an eyebrow in response.

"What is this condition?"

Ludwig paused for a moment. Then he continued, "I'd like you to tell me why you decided to pull me into this game of yours. What have I done to make you want to ruin my reputation?"

Kirkland leaned back in his seat, seeming to enjoy the question. He smiled slightly as he took his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. "Alright, but I'll have to make this quick."

Ludwig nodded, please with the reaction from the Brit. Leaning back on his chair; he waited for the explanation to come. He made sure that his bag was by his feet, so that the pictures he'd printed were in reach.

Kirkland clasped his hands together, leaning on them with his head. It made him look slightly intimidating. "I don't hate you Ludwig." He said, not unkindly. "I don't necessarily care for you, but I don't dislike you. In fact, I find that out of all people in this school, you're most like me."

Ludwig decided that this wasn't meant as an insult, even if it felt like one. "And why is that?" He said.

Kirkland smiled, "You and I are both willing to work for what we want; to break boundaries and rules." Upon seeing Ludwig's frown, he chuckled slightly. "Oh, I know you like to follow written rules – I'm not necessarily talking about those right now. I mean, you are willing to break social rules, unwritten rules that everyone should follow."

The German leaned forwards, "is that so?"

"Yes. But that's not my only reason. You see, while I don't hate you, I do happen to hate your brother and the cronies he calls friends. As you've no doubt heard, I've played this game with them, and they lost. The only way now that I can get to them is by playing my game with you." Kirkland said.

Ludwig wasn't necessarily pleased with the answer, but he nodded anyway. If it was a way to get at Gilbert, then he supposed putting him through 'misery' was a good term of revenge. However, Ludwig wasn't going to let Kirkland take out his revenge on him.

"You understand my motives now then, I suppose?" The Brit said, smiling as if please with his actions. After Ludwig nodded, his smile faded to a smirk. "Life would be awfully boring without games, don't you think?"

Ludwig didn't respond.

"You see Ludwig; I've often wondered what exactly a battlefield would be like in a school setting." Kirkland said. "We have our pawns – the school students that we don't necessarily care for, but can use. We have our rooks, the ones who don't really know what they're doing, but do it anyway because they trust us. Then, we have our knights; those are the ones that think that they can solve every problem. The ones that think they can be heroes."

Kirkland smirked as he spoke, but still Ludwig didn't find that he necessarily needed to say anything to the Brit.

"Then we have our bishops. Those are normally the forgotten ones until we need them – you know that kind of person, don't you?" Kirkland stopped for a moment, before letting out a short laugh and continuing. "Then, right next to you, you have your queen. As the final card they're always used in any way possible to beat the opponent, aren't I correct? Lastly, you're the king of one side. As am I."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. Kirkland's smirk disappeared, and once again, his face morphed into a serious expression.

"I've chosen my chess pieces Ludwig. I suggest you choose yours."

Kirkland waited a moment, before pushing his chair out from under the table and standing up. He went to turn but Ludwig caught his attention by speaking his name, in an icy tone.

"What is it?" Kirkland hissed.

Reaching into his bag, Ludwig narrowed his eyes slightly, pulling out the folder with the five photos in. He placed it on the table, ignoring the questioning look that he gained from the British student. Looking up, the German didn't allow himself to show emotion as he stared at the student president.

"Sit down," he said, "let's play our… game."

Curious about the folder, Kirkland sat down with no commentary. He waited for Ludwig to speak.

"You might want to take a look at this." Ludwig said, pushing the folder towards the British teen. "And while you look, maybe you should start thinking about just how much you're going to knock off the newspaper clubs owing money."

Kirkland frowned, but quickly snatched up the brown folder, his fingers opening it and taking out the five photos. Both teens were quiet as Kirkland shuffled through the photographs.

Despite knowing that he shouldn't, Ludwig couldn't help but feel a small amount of satisfaction as Kirkland paled. The Englishman looked up, pale but narrow-eyed. "Where did you get these?" He fumed.

Ludwig shrugged. "I have my own 'chess pieces' already Arthur. I've been wondering just how bad your reputation would be if people found out about you and Alfred. This school isn't exactly open minded to new things. It'd be a shame if everyone saw these photos don't you think?"

Kirkland growled slightly. It reminded Ludwig of an animal that had never quite managed to be tamed. "Damn you. Damn you Ludwig Beilschmidt. What do you want for these photos? I assume you have backups…"

Ludwig crossed his arms over his stomach pushing his own chair back. Reaching into bag again, he pulled out two more pieces of paper. "I expect you to lower how much the newspaper club owe you. How much do think I'll have to get paid to be persuaded not to post those pictures, hmm?"

Kirkland growled under his breath again, his face reddening in anger. "One hundred pounds. I'll give you one hundred pounds."

Ludwig pushed the paper towards the Brit, passing him a pen. "I want this all on paper. One copy for you and one copy for me. That way neither of us can go back against our word."

Kirkland glared down at the pen, but otherwise picked it up. He clicked it, and went to write, when Ludwig cleared his throat.

"That'll be one hundred pounds per photo. If you don't want them getting out after all." The German said.

Kirkland cursed. He spluttered slightly, but the threat of his relationship getting exposed caused him to follow Ludwig's orders. He was heavily cursing as Ludwig took one of the copies, placing it in his pocket.

Ludwig stood up, pulling one of the bag straps over his shoulder. Taking back his pen, he double checked that he had his copy of the agreement, before making his way to the door. "Just remember Arthur, if your copy suddenly goes missing, our agreement 'suddenly' disappears. You can keep those photos by the way, maybe you could frame them?"

Kirkland continued to curse under his breath, glaring over at Ludwig in a way that almost made the German regret what he'd done. Almost.

Opening the door, Ludwig looked back for a few seconds at Kirkland. He smiled slightly. "Life would be awfully boring without games, don't you think?" He repeated, stepping out of the room.

"FUCK YOU BEILSCHMIDT! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

Walking down the corridor, to the newspaper club meeting, Ludwig couldn't help but feel slightly disturbed at how much he'd enjoyed the confrontation.

Additional Notes:

I apologize to you all for the lack of updating. I thought I'd be quicker this year, but apparently, I've slowed down considerably. I'll try and work on that, I promise. Also, please leave a review telling me what you think about this chapter. I'm not sure if I should change this or not.

Also, you guys can follow me now on Tumblr if you so wish. My name is still MintChocolateLeaves, and you can all bug me to update on their whenever, or ask me questions, etc. ^.^

Anyway, that's enough for me. I'll try and update soon!

Ciao, Mint~

Stay tuned for chapter Nine: Lies