Fight

Disclaimer: I own nothing whatsoever.
AN: I wrote this for a vocabulary journal in English. Hence why some of the words in here are odd/old fashioned/just plain weird. Any questions on vocab, just review me the questions, I'll answer.


Characters:

Alfred F. Jones=America, Arthur Kirkland=England, Feliciano=Italy, Ludwig=Germany, Francis=France, Wang Yao=China, Matthew=Canada, Honda Kiku=Japan, Vash Zwingli= Switzerland, and Ivan Braginski=Russia. Just in case anyone forgot.


Alfred F. Jones had a voracity for life that was only equal in measure to his hatred of the opponent. It didn't matter who he was facing at that moment, because they were all the same. The long queue of opponents waiting outside were faceless to Alfred.

Alfred looked around the ring. People were clumped on the other side; even people he had considered friends were ostracizing him. He sighed. He thought they'd get over it; apparently he was wrong.

He was a fighter. Not a boxer. When he was younger, Alfred had been a street fighter. Now, he fought in an inside ring. Tonight's fight would be hard, but the money would let him take a break from fighting.

"You really are an idiot, you know?"

Alfred would have known that voice anywhere.

"What are you doing here, Arthur?"

"I'm here to see you get beat up," Arthur said plithely, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "You look horribly wan. Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine."

Arthur offered Alfred a quid, complaining that Alfred had started him on the bad habit. Alfred promptly told him to go back to England. Arthur then launched into a long winded remonstrance. Alfred didn't really listen.

Arthur had found Alfred. Alfred had just been fighting five other street boys and had gotten beaten up badly. Arthur Kirkland was walking away from the billets, where he'd been staying. He'd taken one look at Alfred and told him to come. Alfred had followed the strange British man and he didn't live on the streets anymore. Arthur had taken him in. Alfred learned about decorum and how to fight. He learned that the winner of a fight was an aspirant, so the whole match should be clean.

Arthur had become Alfred's older brother. They had been very close, until Alfred had decided he wanted to be independent. He'd fought Arthur publicly. It had been a hard fight. Alfred's renunciation of Arthur had driven Arthur to tears. Arthur had his hand on Alfred's throat, but then just dropped to the floor. To see his big brother just give up, nearly made Alfred cry. He saved his tears for the night, when he lay awake.

"Alfred, hello!"

Alfred was nearly knocked to the ground as someone hugged him. "Hi, Feliciano….and Ludwig."

Ludwig nodded solemnly as he pulled Feliciano off him. Alfred didn't know the reasoning behind it, but the two opposites were always together.

Alfred suddenly realized that there were more people than just him and Arthur. Wang Yao was there, even though he was still angry at Arthur for some fight years ago. Francis Bonnefoy was there, despite the fact that he hated Arthur and Arthur hated him. A lot of people didn't like Arthur. Alfred's brother, Matthew was there, even though he didn't like being confused for Alfred. Honda Kiku was serenely standing next to Ludwig and Feliciano.

"What are you all doing here?"

"We're here to watch you fight," answered Francis lazily. "It's going to be the last time—"

Arthur promptly kicked Francis in the shins.

"What was that for?"

"For being a twit."

"You're just an ex-delinquent!"

Wang Yao sighed. "Could you two stop fighting?"

"Who am I facing?" Alfred asked, dread filling him. They obviously weren't there because they liked him.

Matthew answered, "I'm sorry, but Alfred, you're fighting…"

"Ivan Braginski," Honda Kiku finished.

Sure enough, Alfred looked across the ring and saw him. Ivan Braginski was very tall and very strong, and always wore a prominent scarf. He would beat Alfred into a blightly dollop in minutes.

"You'll do fine," Matthew consoled, still looking worried.

"Fighters, please get in the middle," said a voice on the loudspeakers.

There were words of luck as Alfred took off his jacket and shoes, so he was wearing only shorts. He could see Ivan doing the same.

Vash Zwingli was a martinet through and through.

"Shake hands, or I'll shoot you!"

Ivan had taken off his scarf. There were scars all over his neck. They looked painful. Up close, Alfred saw that Ivan looked gaunt. Ivan smiled. It sent shivers down Alfred's back.

"Begin!"

Ivan won the first round. Alfred managed to win the second. The third round would decide the winner.

Ivan's first punch hit Alfred in the face, but Alfred's kick knocked him down. Unfortunately for Alfred, Ivan was still very spry despite having fought for many years. Ivan was also indefatigable and didn't fight very humanly. He fought like a madman.

They traded hits for a while, getting more violent each time. Ivan's eyes were mad.

Alfred, disconcerted as he staggered out of reach of Ivan's punches, shouted, "You're crazy!"

"Well, it's a shame I'm possessive and not protective!"

No kidding, Alfred thought. My arm's bleeding.


AN: I take no responsibility for anything that happened in this FanFic. I know it's lame. I just had to write. My English teacher said it was amusing. It's a lot funnier when you know the characters. I'll be posting another one of my vocab journals with the Hetalia cast once he gives it back. I'll update my Naruto stuff at some point too. I've got a ton of homework I need to go do. Thanks for reading. Review if so inclined.