A/N: Well! So, first story published here, after a really long time just lurking around… I hope you people like it. Title comes from Queen's song, Friends Will Be Friends. I just like that song.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia Axis Powers.

Friends Will Be Friends

They were the latest trend out there. The must-have of the season, the toy everyone in their class wished they had. If you wanted to be a cool kid, you had to own at least enough to play a game.

"And I got 'em all!" Gilbert boasted proudly and loudly to his friends, smirking cockily at them as he showed off the colourful deck of APH cards. "That makes me the awesomest kid in the class! No, the school!"

"It's 'most awesome'." Arthur corrected in a monotone voice, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the book on his desk. Gilbert laughed obnoxiously, either too proud to acknowledge his grammatical mistake or too arrogant to realise what Arthur actually meant. "That's right, Artie, that's me!"

Whichever it was, it still made both Arthur and Francis roll their eyes in exasperation and affection —that was always unclear with Gilbert— while Antonio grinned at his best friend with admiration.

"You're really awesome, Gil!" He agreed energetically.

Truth be told, Antonio did not really care for these toy fads of sorts, so common between his fellow fourth-graders. The young Spaniard would much rather spend his time helping his mother tend to their garden, or lying in the grass cloud-gazing until he fell asleep, or trying to play a guitar too big for his little body, than attempting to impress his classmates with toys that were out as fast as they were in.

He did, however, care for Gilbert. The three of them —devilish Gilbert, charming Francis and oblivious Antonio— had been friends ever since they had been in preschool and fought over who's country was better in football. Gilbert, that small German hooligan, was in the top three of Antonio's list of heroes, right above Pablo Picasso but under Iker Casillas.

And Gilbert, unlike he, did care for the toy fads, always having the most recent and cool one whenever he needed it. That had never caused any problem with the other boy, though, so Antonio did not mind that fact.

"Oh, Gil, mon ami!" Francis exclaimed with a dramatic sigh, whipping his long blond hair over his shoulder in an equally dramatic manner. "How many times do I have to tell you this? Getting all this stuff won't make you popular with les filles! If anything, it makes you look like a nerd."

Gilbert's face became red, his almost-white hair clashing with the colour of his skin almost blindingly so.

"You idiot! Girls have cooties!" He yelled angrily. "Why would I want to have anything to do with them?"

"Because they're pretty, soft and gentle, for example!" Francis answered, smiling dreamily as he looked over at the dark-haired girl from Seychelles. She smiled back when she saw him staring. He offered her a small wave and turned back to Gilbert, his smile a now more mischievous. "What's not to love about girls?"

"I don't know, how about everything?" Gilbert shot back, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. "Right, Tony?"

Antonio blinked and then frowned in thought. He could not remember having much interaction with girls, other than convincing Elizaveta that hitting his friends with her plastic frying pan just because they looked under her skirt was not wise.

So he smiled lazily and shrugged. "Elizaveta's nice!"

Gilbert gasped, staring at him with wide eyes as if he had spoken horrible blasphemy. "What? Say it ain't so, Tony! Please tell me you're not under those sissies' spell, too!" He begged, making both Francis and Antonio laugh.

Arthur growled in annoyance, slamming his book shut. "Could you gits shut up? I'm trying to read here and you're bugging me."

Gilbert sneered at him. "You shut up, Artie! Who reads here, seriously?"

"In a classroom? Oh, well, I don't know— how about people who want to learn?" Arthur supplied sarcastically. He looked down at the cards Gilbert was holding. "Are those things the reason why you're making such a racket?"

The albino smirked once again, offering one of the cards to Arthur so he could probably be awed by its sheer awesomeness. Arthur took it, examining it. "These are, Artie, APH cards. The hottest game cards going around! Every nation from the world is a card, and the point is making a world war. You're right now holding my personal favourite, the awesome Prussia!" Gilbert explained excitedly.

Arthur hummed in understanding. Then he threw the card away as if it was trash, and Gilbert almost dropped the rest of the pack in his attempt to catch it mid-air.

"As I thought, it's utter rubbish. No news there, it's always rubbish when you three are involved." The blond stuck up his nose at them.

"Oh, Rosbif, always so vicious!" Francis pouted at the British boy. "It's just a game Gilbert likes, no need to put Antoine et moi in the same bag!"

"Francis! Don't say that!" Antonio protested. "And also— my name is Antonio, not Antoine!"

Gilbert glared at his blond friend. "You're just jealous 'cause I have these cards and you don't! And that makes you a loser, Francis!"

Francis raised an amused eyebrow at him. "Does it?"

"Yes, it does, you pansy!" Gilbert assured him, his glaring growing in intensity. "Not having these babies," He practically shoved the cards into the French boy's face. "Makes you a big fat loser!"

"Now, I hardly reckon the Frog is a loser for not having those cards." Arthur commented nonchalantly. "It's his personality what makes him one."

Antonio pouted, not very keen on conflict. "Arthur! That was mean!" He said, making Arthur scowl at him. He continued. "Francis isn't a loser—"

"—Nu-huh!" Gilbert interrupted him, shaking his head vigorously. "Francis is a loser, and a girly one at that! In fact, everyone who doesn't have these cards is a loser too!"

The German's smirk came back.

"And I'm not friends with any losers!" He proclaimed.

Antonio snapped his head to look at the albino, eyes going wide with shock and paling. Surely, he was joking. He could not mean that, could he? The brunet's heart was suddenly throbbing in fear —for he did not own those cards— and he opened his mouth to ask, but Francis beat him to speaking.

"Well then, I suppose we're no longer friends, Gilbert." He said with a smile and tone Antonio deemed far too light for such a declaration. This was serious! They were losing their best friend over some game cards!

He did not have a chance to make this clear to Francis, for the blond grabbed Antonio's hand and started pulling him to the other side of the classroom before he could even dream to gather his panicking thoughts. Francis grinned playfully at him. "Isn't he especially annoying today? Come on. Let's go bother Roderich for a while and let Gilbert deal with Rosbif."

Antonio could only nod absently, still looking back at Gilbert.

For the rest of the day, Gilbert's words echoed through the brunet's mind, haunting him and making his stomach twist into anguished knots. He avoided his friend —or should he say, ex-friend now— all day long, until the final bell rang and he was able to run out the school's doors and into his mother's car.

"Hi, Antonio!" She greeted with a bright grin. "You came out fast! How was your—?"

"—Mamá, mamá!" Antonio cut her off, urgency and fear written all over his face. "We need to buy APH cards!"

Mrs. Fernández blinked in confusion, tilting her head at her distressed-looking son. "APH cards?" She repeated. "What are those, tesoro?"

The woman had to focus very much to understand what came next out of Antonio's mouth.

"They're these cards 'bout nations and war everybody at my school like 'cause they're so bright and colourful and you can do a lot of stuff with them but I'm not really into them but Gil is and he has them and he said that people who didn't have them were losers and he wasn't friends with losers but I don't have them so that means I'm a loser so then Gil won't be my friend but we've always been the best of friends and I don't wanna lose Gil I wanna be friends with Gil forever so can we please go to the store and buy some please?"

Mrs. Fernández blinked again.

Antonio was panting a little bit, trying to catch his breath after his rant. His normally cheery green eyes were shining with unshed tears, which looked ready to fall down his flushed cheeks. Her heart was tugged at painfully at those sad kicked puppy eyes, and she gnawed her bottom lip. Something serious had happened— and for what she could gather, it was about Gilbert.

Mrs. Fernández then smiled tenderly at her son, taking a hand to run it soothingly through his dark brown locks.

"Alright, tesoro," She started with a gentle voice. "Calm down and try again. Mamá is listening."

Antonio nodded weakly and took in a shaky deep breath. His voice was trembling and awfully sad.

"G-Gilbert got these c-c-cards, alright? A-APH c-cards, the o-ones always on T-TV… A-And t-today, h-h-he said that whoever d-didn't have t-them was a-a l-loser… And h-he wasn't friends w-with losers…" A big fat tear rolled down his cheek, followed by more tears. Antonio sniffled. "I d-don't wanna stop b-being f-f-friends with G-Gil, mamá!"

Mrs. Fernández's first instinct was to say 'no'. She wanted to say that if that boy Gilbert Weillschmidt needed other children to own a certain thing to be his friend, then he was certainly not a valuable friend.

But she knew Gilbert, quite well. And that did not sound too much like the image she had of him. She looked down at Antonio, expression softening again.

He was her little sunshine, always beaming at everything and everyone no matter what. Seeing him so upset was unbearable to her, it made the world a much gloomier place…

Antonio's father was going to scold her for spoiling him, but who could possibly resist that adorable face?

"Okay." The brunette woman said, still threading her fingers through the boy's hair. "APH cards, you said? Let's go to the store and buy you some."

Antonio's face instantly brightened with relief and happiness, and before Mrs. Fernández could react, he was hugging her tightly.

"Gracias, mamá!" He thanked her, his voice muffled against her chest. Mrs. Fernández held back a squeal as she hugged him back and kissed the top of the brunet boy's head. He was just so cute sometimes!

The next day, Antonio went into his fourth grade classroom with a wide, bright smile and a deck of cards in his hands. The former was not a surprise —the little Spaniard was almost always smiling when he arrived— but the latter did not happen on a daily basis. Francis groaned when he saw it.

"You too, Antoine?" The blond exclaimed, taking a hand to his chest as if he was deeply scandalised. Antonio just chirped, "Yeah, me too, Francis! I got them yesterday! But my name is Antonio."

Gilbert smirked at his brunet friend and slapped his back. "That's awesome, Tony! Now we can play together, huh?"

Antonio chuckled and agreed. "Yeah!"

"Does this mean I'm supposed to play all by myself today?" Francis wondered with a pout. He wrinkled his nose and added, "Or worse, with Rosbif?"

Arthur looked away from the window and glared at Francis. "Oh, please, like the idea of being with you excited me, Frog."

Gilbert laughed mockingly at the both of them. "That's what you get for not getting them too! Losers!"

He turned to Antonio, grinning.

"I hope you're ready to lose, Tony," He challenged. "'Cause I'm kicking your ass!"

Antonio grinned back. "I wanna see you try!"

For the whole length of time their lunch recess represented, Gilbert and Antonio played with the APH cards. Gilbert was patient enough to teach Antonio at least some of the basics, and Antonio quickly got the hang of it and started getting pretty good. It was a fairly easy game. Francis, unwilling to resign himself to the fate of staying with Arthur, decided to watch them. Soon, the trio started —like they usually did with their antics— drawing a crowd. Gilbert enjoyed the attention and took it in gladly, while Antonio seemed rather oblivious to it.

He was just happy Gilbert was still his best friend.

But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end, and Antonio's happiness had a swift end later that day.

By the time school was done and over with, Gilbert had to stay back to fix something or other, Francis had rushed away as soon as the bell had rung to get to a dentist appointment, and Antonio was left alone in the courtyard waiting for his mother to come and get him. It was starting to rain, though lightly. Still, he protected himself from the drizzle by standing under the thatched exit of the school building. Despite the cold, the brunet was smiling and humming a tune blissfully, in a very good mood, his precious deck of APH cards in his hands.

Arthur walked to stand next to the Spaniard, opening his umbrella and scowling at the prospect of having to walk home under the rain. Supposedly, his older brother had to pick him up, but not once had Antonio seen him actually come. It made him feel sorry for the British boy, so he offered him a friendly grin.

"Hey, Artie," He started, grin widening when he saw how the scowl became deeper at the nickname. "If you want, mamá can take you to your house. You're in the way to mine, anyway! So you don't have to walk with this weather and all?"

"No, thank you. I quite like the rain." The blond answered in a clipped tone, making Antonio chuckle. That pride! Well— if Arthur wanted to freeze to death on his way home that was just fine with him. He would be warm and cosy in his own house in just a few more minutes.

Arthur and Antonio had never really gotten along. Arthur was too cranky and stubborn, while Antonio was too laid-back and absent-minded. They tolerated each other though, for the sake of their classroom, if anyone's sake, for all Arthur actually brought to the group was sarcasm. He was not even part of the group— his desk was just right next to theirs in the classroom and he always had the need to express his opinions on their actions.

This time was not the exception.

"What's so funny?" Antonio blinked and scratched his nape sheepishly.

"Ah, I just remembered something." He answered. Arthur did not seem satisfied with the reply, but did not question Antonio further. Instead, he nodded over to his cards. "I see you got those things as well."

Antonio nodded, looking down at them fondly. He had grown attached to them. After all, they had saved his friendship with Gilbert! That was not a minor thing.

"You got them to impress Weillschmidt, didn't you." Arthur asked. However, it did not sound like a question, but more like a statement. Antonio felt his shoulder stiffening, and he looked up to Arthur with a small frown.

If he had wanted to say something back, Arthur did not give him the chance, choosing to keep talking with a strange confidence lacing his words.

"If Gilbert was your true friend, Fernández, he wouldn't care for something as silly as a bunch of cards." Antonio raised his eyebrows at that, making Arthur smirk. The brunet opened his mouth to speak, but once again Arthur did not grant him a chance— he had taken off running under the rain, cackling madly.

Antonio raised his eyebrows higher. That kid was so strange. It had to be all that tea he drank so often.

With a shrug, he looked down at his cards again—

—That were not there.

Oh.

"Maldito inglés, come back here and give 'em back!" Not even bothering to try and figure out how Arthur had snatched the deck from him in the first place, Antonio bolted after the blond, screaming with a mixture of anger and panic. Mostly panic. Arthur was already halfway through the courtyard and rapidly reaching the street, so Antonio quickened his pace as much as he could.

Yet, he was so focused on Arthur and catching him that he missed a large puddle of water in the way and slipped, falling on his face harshly.

Now wet, cold and hurt, Antonio could stare helplessly after Arthur, who soon disappeared into the streets of their little town. The brunet noted that the British boy had left behind his umbrella, but to imagine an equally drenched Arthur was only a tiny satisfaction that did not do much to stop the hot angry tears from blurring his vision and making their way down his face.

Arthur had taken his cards. God only knew what he would do with them or if he would ever return them to Antonio. Probably not. The boy felt anguish grab a hold and twist his stomach tightly. When Gilbert found out about this, Antonio would surely go back to being a loser in the albino's book and therefore, no longer his friend.

"But I don't want to lose him!" He exclaimed desperately to no one in particular, voice breaking with a sob.

"Lose who, Tony?" A familiar voice asked from behind him.

Hablando del rey de Roma. Gilbert.

Antonio did not answer, instead wiping his eyes furiously. There was a heavy silence until Gilbert walked closer to him, stopping the rain from keep on falling down on the Spaniard. Antonio kept his eyes on the ground, sniffling pathetically, so Gilbert had to kneel down next to him to be able to look at his face— his right cheek and the tip of his nose were scratched and bleeding. Antonio still refused to meet his eyes.

"What's wrong, Tony?" Gilbert questioned, worry clear in his voice. "What happened to you?"

There was more silence, until with a shaky sigh, Antonio spoke up. "Arthur happened."

His fists clenched slowly in anger. Tomorrow, he would punch Arthur right between those monstrous eyebrows he had for doing this to him.

"He took my cards from me." The brunet explained, trying to contain himself. He would pull off those eyebrows, too. Hair by hair. He would make Arthur scream and cry in pain.

"What? He really did that? Man, that sucks!" Gilbert interrupted his wrathful mental tirade. He put a hand over Antonio's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "Are you really so upset 'bout that?"

Antonio nodded. As if that was not reason enough to be upset. He tried to brace himself for the German boy's rejection that was sure to come now that he did not have APH cards. However, what happened next shocked Antonio to Spain and back.

He heard Gilbert drop his backpack and then zipping it open. There was shuffling, and next thing Antonio knew was that Gilbert had shoved something into his face. He blinked repeatedly to be able to focus what it was.

Gilbert's cards. Gilbert's cards?

"Those are your cards, Gil." He pointed out.

"I know." Gilbert replied, smirking at the Spaniard. He nudged Antonio's arm with the pack and exclaimed, "C'mon, dude, take them!"

Antonio was more and more confused by the second. "B-But Gil! They're yours!"

Gilbert shook his head.

"Not anymore!" Not they belong to you, Tony." The albino explained, his smirk growing. This was not making any sense for Antonio, at all, and he frowned as he tried to connect the dots, the confusion clearly written all over his face.

"W-Why?" He wondered softly. Gilbert's smirk faltered a little at that. He looked down, blood rushing to his cheeks and tinting them pink.

"Because… You really like these cards, don't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't be so sad and depressed over Arthur taking them. I don't want you to be sad… It's unnatural. When you are sad it's so weird! And totally un-awesome. So… You can take mine. And keep them. So go back to being happy again, okay?" Gilbert blushed a little more, ending his confession with a bit more force than he intended to.

He made himself look at a very shocked and unreadable Antonio. He was mumbling in embarrassment by now, mentally cursing Antonio for making him be so sappy.

"You're my best friend… I hate seeing you sad." He added finally.

Antonio was deadly still for a few seconds.

Then, he jumped Gilbert and hugged him with such strength that they both fell back on the puddle, the cards and the albino's umbrella flying in the air.

"H-Hey!" Gilbert yelled, now he being the one who was feeling utterly bewildered by the turn of events. "The cards! They'll get ruined in the rain!"

He warned Antonio urgently, but the other boy just laughed happily. Relief and glee were flooding the brunet's heart at Gilbert's actions and words— he felt like he would begin crying all over again.

So the cards were not important to Gilbert! He was! Antonio Fernández Carriedo! Not only important, but his best friend. Gilbert was so awesome!

"Thank you, Gil." Antonio said, smiling warmly and squeezing Gilbert in affection. The other boy hugged him back after a while, but in an attempt to retain a little of his lost pride, he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm too awesome for those cards, anyway." He declared in an indifferent tone, making Antonio chuckle.

Gilbert did not ask what the whole deal was about. Antonio was grateful for that— in retrospective, everything he had done since yesterday seemed silly and impulsive. But he had been truly terrified.

They were like that, hugging under the rain, until Mrs. Fernández and Mrs. Weillschmidt arrived at the same time in their cars, both women honking to get their sons' attention. Antonio reluctantly let go of his friend with a sheepish grin.

"So, I guess that, uhm… Bye." Gilbert said, feeling very self-conscious over their blatant demonstration of public affection, even if no one but themselves —and possibly their mothers, who would probably have a field day over how cute they were— had witnessed it.

Antonio nodded. "Yeah, bye,"

Neither of them moved, though, busy sharing a playful look until Mrs. Weillschmidt honked again insistently. Gilbert groaned.

"Mein Gott, what a woman! Hasn't she ever heard of patience?" He wondered moodily. Antonio laughed.

"You're one to talk, Gil!" The brunet retorted. Gilbert pouted at him. "Are you saying the awesome me isn't patient?"

Mrs. Weillschmidt honked yet again. "Oh, for the love of— we're settling this tomorrow."

With that last statement, the German boy picked up his umbrella and ran towards his mother's car. Antonio stared after him, smiling goofily, and then rushed over to his own mother's car.

"Antonio Fernández!" Mrs. Fernández gasped, a little bit hysteric once he was inside the car, sitting on the backseat. "You're soaked to the bone and shivering! And what happened to your face? You're bleeding! What in the world were you doing?"

"My cards got stolen!" Antonio chirped, not sounding the least bit down over that fact. Mrs. Fernández's eyes widened.

"Your APH cards? The ones I got you yesterday?" At the nod she received, she took a hand to his damp hair. "Ay, tesoro… I'm so sorry!"

He giggled.

"It's okay, mamá!" The little Spaniard assured her. "Turns out I didn't need them in the end!"

Mrs. Fernández raised an eyebrow at him, not quite understanding. She examined Antonio —he looked like a very wet and very happy puppy— and smiled fondly at the sight. Oh, well. If Antonio was happy, then so was she— she did not need to get why he was happy in the first place.

Without another word so she would not take her son away from whatever blissful place he was in now, she started driving in direction to their home.

The next day, Antonio, Gilbert and Arthur missed school because of a cold, leaving an oblivious Francis alone in school for the rest of the week.

A/N: First, the translations.

Mon ami — my friend

Les filles — the girls

Antoine et moi — Antonio and I

Mamá — mum

Tesoro — treasure, it's an endearment in Spanish

Gracias — Thank you

Maldito inglés — cursed Englishman, basically

Hablando del rey de Roma — literally, speaking of the king of Rome, which would be the Spanish version of speak of the devil

Mein Gott — My God

Ay — Spanish equivalent for oh

Now that that's settled, I want to say thanks for reading and I hope that you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. And… Review, please! Let me know what you think! Well, that's about it! See ya!