Yay! Another fic! I promise I'll try and finish this one. But first, here are some warnings!
Warnings: Over abundance of gay men, and coupling, so no likey, no ready, gotchya? Some possible OOCness (I tend to do that), and my sucky first chappys.
Oh, and sorry about the whole listing of characters and real names in the middle there, it's mostly for my sake. I go a little bit insane when trying to remember all their human names. Because trust me, everybody is in this. At least, everybody I could find a human name for. Most of the time this'll be from Arthur's perspective, but I'll do a little switcheroo with different couples. And right now, I still have to make a list of roommates and groups of friend so I don't go insane from that either.
Enjoy!
"Damned Americans and their damned idiocy. Why can't they just figure it out? They're all bloody idiots!"
"Hey, muttering to yourself?"
Arthur jumped at the hand that had been clapped to his back. He nearly dropped the duffel bag in hand, and tripped on the sidewalk. He would've made an embarrassing face plant on the concrete if not for the fellow behind him who'd grabbed him by the back of his new school uniform.
"Get your hands off me!" Arthur stumbled back a few steps with his hands raised in defense. "Don't touch me."
The blond teen just laughed, leaning against the brick wall behind him. "Well," he obviously had a French accent. "I don't think it's fair to say such a thing when you don't even know me. My name is Francis Bonnefoy, and yours?" he pushed a hand towards him to shake, and Arthur did so hesitantly.
"Arthur Kirkland," he released the Frenchman's hand quickly, muttering something about being late. He tried to go back up the steps to the main doors, but Francis stepped in front of him.
"Not so fast. Obviously you're a Brit, and I was wondering what you were muttering about Americans." He quirked an eyebrow, and Arthur just grumbled something again before trying to push past the teen.
"Get out of my way you bloody fool. What do you expect me to say?" Arthur adjusted the collar of his uniform, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. It was still a hot day for autumn, and Arthur cursed it for being like that. "Fine. I ran into some idiot, loud-mouthed American kid who tried so very desperately to get me to laugh, and I just told him to piss off. Anything else you want to know?"
The Frenchman smiled. "That's all." He stepped aside so Arthur could leave, but Arthur turned to ask him one more thing before pulling open the door.
"Why do you wear your hair in a ponytail anyways? You look like a woman with hair that long."
Francis looked like he was going to strangle the Brit, but he just chuckled and entered the Academy. It was a lovely place, and Arthur was by far impressed. He had not been too fond of the idea that he would be going to a school full of exchange students, and he had already been put off by the Frenchman and the American from earlier. But maybe there would be some more pleasant people to come, maybe even another Brit like him!
Without thinking, he ran right into another teen. He started to apologize, but froze as the taller boy turned around. Actually, he was more like a man. His blond hair was slicked back, and his uniform was military and perfect looking. His brow furrowed as he stared down at the smaller blond. An albino boy a few inches shorter than him stuck his tongue out from the other side of the blond monster.
"S-sorry." Arthur stuttered, backing away. Being the cursed idiot he was, he ran into someone else in the seemingly crowded hallway.
"Oh, hello there!"
The sound of the flourished Italian accent made Arthur cringe. "Hello."
The brunette Italian smiled at him, giving an excited wave. "Where are you from? I am so excited to meet new people from different places, even if fratello is a bit grumpy." He elbowed the matching, darker brunette next to him that seemed to be sulking. "My name is Feliciano."
"I'm Arthur. I'm from Britain."
"Oooh, Britain? I've never been there, but I hear your food is terrible!" he started laughing, and Arthur could feel his cheeks start to heat up in annoyance. "I love pasta. That's the only food for me. Right, fratello?"
The other boy grunted in consent.
"That's by brother Lovino. He doesn't really like talking to other people."
In Arthur's head he was going through every possibility to get himself away from the eccentric Italian, but was soon saved by someone he'd rather not see.
"Hey! You're that British guy that yelled at me earlier. I never caught your name."
Arthur sighed, turning around as he brushed the hand off his shoulder. The sandy haired, blue-eyed American had a cheeky smile on his face that seemed to be waiting for an answer. Behind him was a boy that looked alike, but was quiet and held a stuffed white bear to his chest, glasses askew on his nose.
"I'm Arthur."
"Cool! I'm Alfred, and this is my brother Matthew." He jabbed a thumb at the other teen. "Our parents are divorced, so he lives in Canada with Dad. But I live in the US of A!"
Arthur frowned, feeling the strong urge to place his hands over his ears from all the obnoxious noise. Just as he was about to tell him to get lost, someone's voice rang out loud and clear through the small crowd of students gathering in the entryway.
"Hello students!" a man in almost a matching uniform as their own waved his arms to get their attention. The crowd quieted down. "I'm glad you were all chosen to come here to this wonderful, new Academy for the gifted around the world!"
"Lame," Arthur heard the albino mutter into the taller blonde's ear.
"You will all begin your year here together in classes arranged and given to you in a schedule. Later on you'll choose your classes and electives. We'll start with the assembly, so follow me!"
"Bo-ring," the albino said, a German accent sticking to his tongue. "Well, bruder, what do you think?"
The taller blonde gave him a look that meant "shut the hell up or I swear I'll wring your neck in the next ten seconds". The shorter male just muttered something under his breath, which received him a swat of the head.
The crowd of new students followed the Headmaster into the auditorium before being seated, and they started off with role call by country.
Arthur sank into his seat, groaning. Why did he ever let his mother convince him to do this? He'd gotten fantastic grades all through middle school and high school, and then he got a letter saying he was accepted into Hetacademy if he wished to go. It was a new thing to bring together exceptional students from all around the world to work together and learn of other cultures. His mother thought it was a fantastic idea. Who in the bloody hell thought this was a good idea?
"Alright, we'll start from the top of the list and go down. Germany: Ludwig and Gilbert Weillschmidt."
The albino and the blonde from earlier raised their hands.
"United States: Alfred Jones."
The American next to him raised his hand vigorously.
"Canada: Matthew Williams."
He raised his hand hesitantly, barely enough to be seen.
"Finland: Tino Väinämöinen."
A blonde a few seats away raised his hand.
"Italy: Feliciano and Lovino Vargas."
Arthur groaned inwardly at the eccentric Italian.
"Japan: Kiku Honda."
Hmm, Japan? This was going to be interesting.
"France: Francis Bonnefoy."
Yuck. The weirdo with the ponytail.
"China: Wang Yao."
China? Of course… All the Asian countries are probably here.
"England: Arthur Kirkland."
Arthur almost missed it, so intent on seeing who was who when names were being called. He blushed, raising his hand as the Headmaster searched the crowd a few times.
"Russia: Ivan Braginski."
Arthur had heard a lot about Russians.
"Austria: Roderich Edelstein. Hungary: Elizaveta Héderváry. Spain: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Switzerland: Vash Zwingli. Poland: Feliks Łukasiewicz. Lithuania: Toris Lorinaitis. Estonia: Eduard Von Bock. Turkey: Sadiq Annan. Greece: Heracles Karpusi. Egypt: Gupta Muhammad Hassan. Belarus: Natalia Alfroskaya. Sweden: Berwald Oxenstierna. Ukraine: Katyusha Braginskaya. Norway: Lukas Bondevik. Denmark: Matthias Køhler. Iceland: Emil Bondevik."
Arthur had practically fallen asleep by then, but luckily Alfred had the sense to shake him when they were leaving. They were handing out schedules for the next day and keys to dorm rooms. Oh yuck, Arthur would have to have a roommate! He prayed to god it wouldn't be Alfred.
"The list of roommates is on a sheet in the hall. You may check after your key is given, and your room number."
Arthur took his paper schedule and key and headed out into the hallway, pushing through the other people to see his name. Down near the bottom was his name, and right next it—
GAH! NO! Arthur wouldn't stand for this. Someone had something against him! They MUST! At least god wasn't on his side. He pushed back out of the crowd, working his way to the doors they said would lead to the boys and girls dorms.
Arthur was halfway across the courtyard when he heard someone shout his name. He stopped.
"Hey Arthur!" Alfred stopped next to him, his breathing labored. "Did you see? We're roommates! What luck!"
"Yeah, definitely," Arthur continued walking down the sidewalk, the boys dorms just ahead. "Who's with your brother?"
"Oh, Francy Pants or whatever. The weirdo—"
"—with the ponytail. Yeah, I met him earlier. French people just seem so…"
"Jerky?"
"Yeah, I guess. He was kind of a dick, and he had this weird creeper smile on his face. I honestly don't know why the bloody hell I even came here."
Alfred sighed, finally seeming serious for once, and his tone proved it. "Yeah, my mom made me come. She said it would open my eyes to places other than the States, and that it would be good for me. Matty's deathly shy, and I was so worried for him when he got accepted too. I mean, he's a great kid, and he's an awesome brother, but I was just worried it would be too much. He's still so much of a kid."
"I've got a brother," Arthur said suddenly. "His name's Peter, and he is annoying as hell. He's only twelve, and I tried to explain to him why it would suck if I came, but all he could think about was how he would be able to use my room when I left."
Alfred laughed, not the loud obnoxious one, but a softer more good-hearted chuckle. "Yeah, I get what you mean."
Something suddenly clapped them both on the back and they stumbled forward.
"Yay! I get a roommate!" it was that happy go lucky Italian from before, skipping around the courtyard like an idiot. "His name is Ludwig and he's from Germany!"
"Would you just shut up? I'm trying to think, you blasted idiot." Arthur snapped, and the Italian stopped. "Uh, sorry. I just, you were a bit loud."
He looked sad, shoulders slumping. "I get that a lot, it's fine. I can tell you're nice, because you apologized!" he suddenly skipped over and hugged Arthur. "You're so nice!"
"Feliciano! Let go of him, that's rude." The tall German came forward, prying the little Italian from Arthur's body. "Sorry. My name's Ludwig, and this is Feliciano."
"Um, hello." Arthur gave a hesitant wave, and the look on Alfred's face could only be explained as a question mark. "I'm Arthur, and this is Alfred."
"Nice to meet you."
Feliciano was whining for some reason, sniffling like he was about to start crying.
Ludwig groaned. "I'll see you around. Feliciano and I need to go." He grabbed the Italian by his wrist and started tugging him towards the boys' dorms.
"That was really weird."
"Yeah," Arthur glanced back at the doors where students started spilling out. Most everybody was paired up with their roommates, walking side-by-side and chatting pleasantly with each other. One of the funnier pairs was Feliciano's brother, Lovino, and a Spanish boy who was latched onto his arm as Lovino cursed and screeched at him to let go. Another pair was tall Swedish guy with a smaller, Finnish teen who seemed to be cowering under his intense gaze.
"I'm tired," Arthur suddenly said, realizing how late it was actually getting. "Let's get to the dorms." Alfred consented cheerily, following the Briton all the way to the brick building where they found their room.
Next-door were Lovino and the Spaniard, and on the other side were the albino and a kid from Switzerland.
Ah, this was going to be an interesting school year.