Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Hetalia. Not even a little bit :(

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

"I said that you're going to be part of a new 'anger management' program we have going on at this school," said the Guidance Counselor quietly. "Now can you please lower your voice?" she questioned and Arthur gave her an annoyed sigh.

"Why do I need anger management?" he asked, trying to keep himself calm but the Counselor still eyed him nervously.

"Well…" she said slowly. "If you haven't noticed, you tend to get upset rather easily. You've only been here a few weeks and we've got several complaints from your teachers."

"Oh really?" he yelled slightly. "I have been nothing but a gentleman since I got here," the Brit insisted. "Which one of my so-called 'professors' felt the need to whine about me?" he demanded.

"I'd rather not say," she explained.

"Of course you wouldn't!" he shot back, standing up. "Because it isn't ruddy true!"

"Calm down Arthur," she said sternly, now more worried about his yelling than accidentally setting him off. "You're going to have to participate no matter what so you might as well try to just get through it. Besides, Anger Management isn't necessarily a bad thing, it can be very helpful."

"Well that's rubbish isn't it? If it was so 'helpful'," he mocked as he slumped back into his seat. "Why doesn't everyone have to take it?"

"That's not how this works," she explained as she returned to filling out some forms on her desk.

"Of course not," he snapped. "The teachers here are just idiots and I'm the one who's going to have to suffer," the Englishman muttered under his breath.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So the bitch says I have to go to these classes twice a week after school, for two fucking hours! Can you believe it?" Arthur said bitterly. His friend, Alfred, looked at him and smiled.

"I told you," he laughed as he took a bite of his burger. "You really have to learn to control that temper of yours. When do you start?" he asked as he chewed. Arthur scowled at the American as he devoured his hamburger.

"I start today," he explained before addressing something else that was bugging him. "Are you ever not eating?" he asked his friend.

"Hey, don't hate," Alfred suggested. "These things are delicious."

"Apparently," the Brit agreed. "You got four." Arthur Kirkland sat there watching his best friend Alfred plow through all four burgers, his fries and two milkshakes. He pushed his scones and tea to the side, too disgusted to resume eating. "My god, where does it all go?" he asked, scanning over his friend's slim figure.

"I don't know," Alfred smiled, patting his belly before getting up. "But I'm going to get some more." He turned around and headed back into the lunch line.

"And you wonder why people think you Americans are such pigs," Arthur yelled as his friend walked away.

"That's only because our food actually tastes good!" Alfred yelled back. Arthur sighed and slouched back into his chair. He couldn't believe this was happening. He had just come to this school, not by his own accord of course, yet he was really starting to like it. So far he only had one real friend, Alfred Jones, but he was sure after a few more weeks he could end up being quite popular. Although, this anger management thing would surely put him in the loser class of the school for the rest of his days here, he had to think of some way to get out of it. The sound of a girl's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"My apologies, what did you say?" he asked, looking at the cute girl in front of him. She wore her hair in two pigtails that really complemented the school girl outfit she had on. She also had a stuffed polar bear that she clutched tightly to her chest.

"I asked if you had seen Alfred," she repeated. Her voice was so quiet, barely over a whisper. She is really pretty, he thought. That Alfred is a lucky Yankee bastard.

"Uh yea," he said as he scanned the cafeteria. "He's right over…well, here he comes." He pointed to a boy carrying a large tray with well over five burgers and an absurd amount of fries. Michelle smiled at the sight of him.

"Well I guess I'll just sit there." When Alfred reached the table, he put down his tray and grabbed a hand full of fries.

"Do you guys want any?" he asked, thrusting his hand in their faces. Arthur politely declined, while Michelle took one and nibbled it. Alfred shrugged and devoured the rest as he sat down. "Hey Michelle," he began, shifting his attention to the girl to his right. "What's up?"

"I wanted to see you," she said brightly before frowning a little. "And he's not happy," she explained. Alfred nodded as he munched on a burger. He covered his mouth while he spoke.

"I get you. You can chill with us today if you want." Arthur raised an eyebrow, since when did Alfred cover his mouth? He must really like this girl.

"Who's mad?" the Brit wondered out loud.

"Just my brother," Michelle shrugged. "He's upset because the school assigned him to take some anger management classes and he's going to have to miss soccer practice."

"Ha, Artie has to take those classes to," Alfred pointed out, causing Arthur to scowl at him.

"Don't fucking call me Artie," he retorted irritated. He had explained this to his American friend before. "That isn't my ruddy name yet you insist on using it over and over, you bloody wanker!" he snapped. As he glared at Alfred he noticed that Michelle was looking at him with wide eyes so he tried to avoid her gaze. "Ahem," he cleared his throat. "I mean, stop it Alfred." The American boy simply shrugged as Arthur and Michelle sat there quietly before she decided to move the conversation along, while eyeing the Brit nervously.

"Yea," she said hesitantly. "It probably didn't help his case that he called the guidance counselor 'une salope' when she said he couldn't get out of it."

"What does salope mean?" asked Alfred. Michelle blushed and whispered the answer in his ear.

"Arthur called her that too," he laughed.

"You know Michelle, I've never met your brother," Arthur pointed out. "What is he like?" She turned to look at him and hugged her bear closer.

"Oh, he's great. Super sweet, funny and a real romantic, he really is the best big brother ever." Wow, she's really pushing this guy, Arthur thought. There must be something seriously wrong with him; Nobody can be that great...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that day, Arthur entered his first anger management class. It was only a few minutes after school had ended, he had made sure to make it there early to show the professor that he really wasn't a bad kid, maybe I can get out early for good behavior. He sat near the front of the room and took out a brand new notebook with a pen and waited for class to start, however so far he was the only one here and that included the teacher. A couple minutes later the teacher walked in – he was a handsome male in his early thirties. He looked so self confident that light seemed drawn to him. England couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was as he wrote Mr. Vargas on the board. When he turned around he noticed Arthur and flashed him a perfect smile. He shyly smiled back.

"Ciao, welcome to my anger management class. What is your name?"

"Uh, my name is-"

"Bullshit! I can't believe we are missing futbol for this!" yelled a boy as he entered the room. He had dark brown hair, lightly tanned skin and was wearing a soccer uniform.

"Oh come on, mi angelito. At least we are still together," reasoned a Spanish boy who walked in after him, who also happened to be wearing a soccer uniform. There seem to be a lot of them in here, noticed Arthur. They walked past him and took their seats in the back.

"I would advise you to keep your voice down, Lovino," suggested Mr. Vagas.

"Screw you uncle! You're the reason I'm in this fucking place."

"Because you need it!" the teacher insisted before sighing. "Why can't you be more like your brother? lui è un piccolo angelo." Lovino scowled at him and turned his attention to his friend. The class began to fill up now so Mr. Vagas tried to gain order and start the class.

"Is everyone here?" The class door slammed open and a blond teenage boy walked in. But he wasn't any boy, this kid was a god. His eyes were so blue that Arthur felt like he was actually staring into the ocean and his hair had a shine to it that made diamonds jealous. His body looked like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo. How can someone look that amazing wearing a soccer uniform? More importantly, how can anyone concentrate on a game with him on the field? Arthur wondered. "Ah Francis, how nice of you to join us?"

"Oh, je suis vraiment désolé professeur, I was talking to my guidance counselor."

"Really?" Mr. Vargas grinned. "And you still couldn't get out of it, huh? Please take a seat." Francis began to walk towards his friends in the back when he noticed a new kid in the front. A dirty blond with the most magnificent sea green eyes that happened to be directed at him, he changed his mind and decided to sit in front. He leaned over to the new boy.

"Mon cher, you do know that it is not polite to stare," he winked. "But if it is any consolation, I really do not mind." Arthur blushed a deep tomato red.

"I wasn't staring." Francis laid back in his chair and looked over the skinny English boy. Arthur could feel the other boy's eyes on him, examining him, noticing every little imperfection.

"Whatever you say, chouchou," he laughed. Arthur began to feel a little irritated.

"Could you please speak English? It is really annoying when you guys switch languages like that."

"Really?" he asked. Then, Francis leaned over really close to him like he wanted to whisper something in his ear. Arthur played along. "Because most people find it sexy." Arthur suppressed a small sigh from escaping his lips as he felt Francis' warm breath on his skin.

"Well, I obviously don't," said Arthur. Francis raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes," he smiled. "Obviously."