Author's note: Hi there!

... Gah! I couldn't do it. I tried really hard to hold this fic idea back, but it burned like a bonfire in my brain. XD So I had to write it.

This is the first time I've humanised the nations. Tis something I've been wanting to do for a while now.

It's also the first time in a very long while that I've written anything high school-related... It's a weird feeling...

I hope you enjoy it! All feedback is appreciated!

... I'm actually undecided if I want this to be a romance or a friendship. Or maybe it's fine as a one-shot? Tell me your thoughts! I'm happy to listen!

Over and out!

Chapter One: Fear Factor

The prestigious school of World Academy was bustling with activity first thing in the morning. Students jostling past each other in large numbers created a sea of blue in the corridors. Amongst them, an Italian teen said something to the American teen beside him.

A very loud laugh rang throughout the corridor. "Dude, seriously?" the American asked incredulously. "You waved a white flag at him?"

"Si!" the Italian replied, fretting. "He's-a really scary! He was glaring at-a me and swearing at-a me and I swear his eyebrows were about to crawl off his face and eat-a me!" He pulled the white flag out of his bag to show him. "See? I always carry one around, just in case."

Alfred laughed again, his voice almost echoing down the corridor. "Dude, you are so weird." He reached out and tugged on Feliciano's stray curl. "Who knew you were afraid of juniors?"

Feliciano make a grunt of discomfort. "But Alfred..."

"Look, man, I know Arthur, okay? He's grumpy, British and has terrible taste in food, but he's no monster!" He let go of the curl as he entered their freshman homeroom. "Get a grip, man!"

"Si..."

Feliciano entered after him, his back straightening painfully as he walked past the first desk. He was sitting at it, like usual. The tall, bulky and really scary German guy. Glancing at Ludwig's desk, he noticed that all of the German's stationary was perfectly aligned and in the exact same places they always were. Pen and pencil on the right, eraser and ruler on the left and pencil case at the top. Not a single slanted edge anywhere. Feliciano shuddered at the military precision this guy exercised before hurrying across the room to his own desk.

Ludwig was frightening. He'd only been sharing a homeroom – and a few other classes – with this guy for six months, but he was downright terrifying. The first time he'd tried to talk to him, he'd frozen halfway through his sentence, those piercing blue eyes glowering down at him. It was at that moment that he'd noticed how much taller and more muscular he was than him. The guy could break him in half if he wanted to and the look on his face had told him that he just might, if pushed. He'd never tried speaking to him again after that.

It was much the same with the rest of the class. A few students had tried to befriend the German, only to come away, intimidated. He just radiated an aura that said he really didn't want to be approached.

Alfred had made a game of it for a while, pestering Ludwig daily. He'd poke him, ask him why he was so grumpy, tell him to smile and then laugh loudly in his face. After a while, though, even he'd gotten bored of trying to talk to him. Feliciano was impressed that he'd been brave enough to get that far.

Speaking of Alfred, he was currently sitting at the front of the class, chatting with his cousin from... What was the country called again? Canadia? Either way, the family resemblance was clear. They looked almost identical.

He perked up as he saw Laura, the pretty Belgian girl of the class, walk past him. He waved to her.

"Ciao~!"

She looked at him in surprise, then gave a small smile of amusement before moving to take her seat.

He sighed, a light smile on his face. Funny, that always seemed to happen when he talked to people. Even the ones he managed to strike up a conversation with seemed oddly distant. It was hard making friends when they were always in a hurry to get away from you.

"So, I told ze stuffy Austrian," the albino German said smugly, "to get bent. Never qvestion ze awesome Gilbert!"

His French and Spanish friends, who were sitting on either side of him, chuckled. Across the table, Feliciano smiled pleasantly as he twirled his pasta around his fork.

It was lunchtime and he'd bumped into the trio on the way to the cafeteria, so he'd, naturally, tagged along with them. Having known Francis and Antonio for quite some years – despite him being two years younger than them – they were like older brothers to him. The new friend they'd made in high school, who was currently leaning so far back on his chair that it threatened to topple over any minute, was certainly interesting.

"Mon ami," Francis said smoothly, placing his chin in his hand, "why must you always cause trouble for zat 'andsome scoundrel?"

"Si, amigo," Antonio agreed. "You're always causing trouble for Roderich... and, sometimes, his kind-of-sort-of-but-not-really girlfriend."

Francis gave a delicate sigh, smiling to himself. "Ah, Elizabeta... you sexy 'ungarian..."

Gilbert gave a derisive snort. "Don't give me zat," he replied. "You two know as vell as I do zat zey're no saints, zemselves!"

"Oui, I suppose..."

"Zat stupid Roderich's alvays looking down his nose at me. Me, ze awesome Gilbert! And Elizabeta's alvays smacking me viz books for von zing or anozer." He grinned to himself. "Zey clearly don't appreciate my awesomeness."

Antonio chuckled. "Si, si..." he replied. After a moment, he turned to Feliciano. "Hey, Feliciano?"

"Si?" Feliciano replied with a smile and a mouthful of pasta.

"Where is your brother, anyway?"

"Oh, fratello's..." He paused, swallowing the pasta in thought. "Actually, I've no idea where he is!"

"Oh, that's right, you don't share homeroom."

"Nope! We share a couple of classes, but he prefers to be alone at break times."

He would have preferred to hang out with his older twin, but Lovino was always very insistent that he leave him 'the hell alone' these days. Exactly when he'd gained this independence was hard to say, but it saddened him sometimes.

As he cast his eyes over his current companions, he briefly wondered who he'd be eating lunch with tomorrow, as it was never the same people. Sometimes, he'd sit with Alfred and his stoic Japanese friend, Kiku. Sometimes, he'd sit with the friendly Elizabeta and her sometimes-scary-sometimes-kinda-cool friend, Roderich. Sometimes, he'd sit with the lazy Greek, Heracles, and his Turkish part-friend-part-arch-nemesis, Sadik.

Occasionally, he'd also try to sit with various pretty girls in the school, such as the Taiwanese girl, her Vietnamese friend and the tanned girl from Seychelles. The one time he'd tried to sit with the cute little Erika, her terrifying Swiss cousin, Basch, had chased him off by pelting books at his head.

He'd also tried sitting with the Chinese guy, Yao, who seemed nice enough, but was constantly being followed around by the tall creepy Russian guy, Ivan. Somehow, that guy managed to be even more terrifying than Ludwig. His two female relatives, Iryna and Natalya, were also rather intimidating, though in different ways. He couldn't deny they were pretty, though.

Really, it was amazing how many different cultures were mixed into this one particular academy. The school itself was situated in America, but every nation imaginable attended it. As his eyes scanned the room, seeing the various groups of friends who sat together every day, laughing and chatting, Feliciano couldn't help wishing he had that.

As his three friends – or casual acquaintances, rather, but he wasn't going to complain – walked him to his next class, a familiar face approached from the other direction. Squealing in fear, Feliciano hid behind Antonio.

"Ohon~" Francis chuckled, "why, if it isn't ze scone-eater~! Careful. 'is food 'as been known to kill wiz it's blandness."

Arthur skidded to a halt, glaring daggers at Francis. "You bloody wanker!" he yelled. He stormed forward and poked him in the ribs with his index finger. "I will have you know that there is nothing wrong with my bloody cooking!"

"Oui... if, by nozing, you mean it is cordon bleurgh."

"You bloody frog!" Arthur immediately leapt forward and began strangling Francis, who strangled him in return. "Like you know any better with your damn snails and frog legs, you cheese-eating surrender monkey!"

"Zey still tastes better zan your scones, you drunken pirate!"

Still hiding behind Antonio, Feliciano shivered. "Why it is always like-a this with them?" he murmured.

Gilbert snorted in amusement. "Zis is alvays awesome to vatch," he said. "Not as awesome as me, zough."

"Because, mi amigo," Antonio replied, turning to Feliciano, "those two can't get enough of each other."

Both Arthur and Francis turned to him, looking outraged.

"That's not bloody true!" Arthur yelled.

"Oui!" Francis yelled. "Zat is trés ridiculous!"

Antonio chuckled. "Sorry," he replied, not looking sorry at all. "I just love to get under your skin, Francis. It is muy entertaining."

"You fiend!"

"Bloody wanker!" Arthur yelled.

"I just don't-a get it..." Feliciano muttered.

After a moment, he looked up and froze. Across the corridor, Ludwig was standing with his arms folded, glasses perched on his nose and a fierce scowl on his face. He felt his knees quaking under the gaze.

"Oh, hey, Ludwig!" Gilbert called out, rushing over to him. Feliciano's mouth dropped open as the albino flung an arm around the taller German's body, not quite being able to reach his shoulders. "So, how's my awesome bro?"

... They were brothers? Suddenly, the bottom fell out of Feliciano's stomach. All this time, he'd been hanging out with... Ludwig's older brother? The rest of the Germans' conversation was drowned out by the ringing in his ears. Ludwig's older brother... But the two of them were nothing alike! Sure, Gilbert's ego could consume the school in one bite if it was a living thing, but he wasn't scary at all! This wasn't happening...

A few moments later, Gilbert returned, rolling his eyes and smirking. "My not-so-awesome brozer is complaining zat ve're going to be late for class and blah blah blah..." He reached over and pulled Francis away from Arthur by the back of his collar. "Come on, Francey-pants. Ve've got a class to get to."

Francis sighed. "Oui, you're right..." he replied with a small smile. "Same time next period, mon cher?" He gave Arthur a flirtatious wink.

Arthur's angry face burned in embarrassment. "You... bloody frog!" he replied, storming past him on the way to his own class.

"Ohonhon~! 'e is far too easy to fluster."

His knees still quaking, Feliciano watched silently as Ludwig retreated around the corner and out of sight.

The following day, Feliciano was casually passing by an open window, on his way to his locker, when, suddenly, a loud booming voice erupted from outside, startling him half to death.

"Nein, zat is unacceptable!" it yelled.

Quaking in his expensive boots, he peeked outside and, to his absolute horror, he saw the unmistakable form of Ludwig. He was holding some poor soul up by the back of his collar, several centimetres off the ground, and his captive was squirming frantically under his grip.

"Put-a me down, you potato-loving bastard!" the captive yelled. Oh, mio dio, it was Lovino. "Put-a me down, or you'll regret it!"

What did Lovino think he was doing, yelling at Ludwig? He was going to get himself really badly hurt, if he wasn't careful!

"Vhen you've learned how not to be an arschloch, zen you'll have earned ze right for me to put you down!"

"Get-a bent, kraut-face!"

A deep scowl on his face, Ludwig unceremoniously tossed Lovino away from him. He landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Fratello!" Feliciano yelled without thinking.

Ludwig turned to meet his gaze, cold steely eyes piercing into him. He felt his heart catch in his throat and get stuck there.

The moment seemed to drag on for an eternity as they stared at each other. Every second that passed caused another painful thump of his heart.

Eventually, Ludwig broke the gaze to turn and walk away. Letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, Feliciano took a moment to calm his frantically beating heart, then dashed off down the corridor to his locker.

He was going to be late for art class. Well, this wasn't an unusual occurrence, but what was unusual – and quite annoying – was that he'd left his sketchbook in his English class. Had it really been there that long? How on Earth had he forgotten about it? All of his precious sketches were in that book!

He liked art class. Quite a lot, in fact. Hence why he was running down the corridors at a blinding pace he could only achieve when food, art or girls were involved. He didn't care so much for his other classes – hence why he often took siestas in them, much to the ire of his teachers – but art class was one thing he loved. He didn't want to miss a single second of that precious drawing time.

As he rounded a corner, however, he smacked into something hard. Something that felt rather like a brick wall as he fell over backwards and landed on the floor.

"Owwww..." he whined. "Mio dio, what-a was that?"

Blinking away the spots in his vision, he looked up to see what he'd run into. His blood immediately turned to ice. Of all the things to run into...

Ludwig glared down at him, his steely gaze as piercing as the day he'd met him. Quaking, he ducked his head fearfully.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Quickly fishing around in his bag, his fingers trembling, he pulled out his trusty white flag and prayed it would help him as he waved it around frantically. "Please, don't-a kill me!"

There was a short pause. After a moment, a sigh resonated from above him. "I'm not going to kill you, you dummkopf..." Ludwig said.

Confused, Feliciano looked up at him. "... Huh?"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Uh... si?"

Kneeling down, Ludwig offered him his hand. Feliciano stared at it, his brain not comprehending what he was seeing.

"Vell? Are you going to take it, or not?"

"Uh..."

His other hand still clutching the white flag, he reached out and grabbed Ludwig's outstretched hand. In one fluid motion, the extremely strong teen pulled him to his feet.

"You're sure you're alright?"

"Uh, si..."

"Zat means 'yes', right?"

"S... Uh, yeah, it does..."

Ludwig gave a small huff. "Your clothes are all dusty now." Grabbing him by the shoulder, he effortlessly spun him around, then began brushing the dust off his blazer and pants. "You really should be more careful..."

"Uh... si..."

With a small grunt, he spun him around by the shoulder again, now beginning to brush the dust off his sides.

"Carelessly running zrough ze corridors like zat... You could get hurt... or you could hurt somebody else..."

"Uh..."

With another grunt, he ceased his dusting. "You can brush ze rest off, yourself. Now... if you're done running around like a headless chicken on fire, I need to get to class."

"Okay..."

"... Are you sure you're alright? You're acting veird..."

"Uh, si! Si, I'm fine..."

"Right..." Ludwig eyed him cautiously. "Vell... bye."

"Bye..."

The German began to walk away. After a moment, he paused. "Remember, no running in the ze corridors."

"Si..."

With one final grunt of affirmation, he disappeared.

Feliciano could barely think straight. His brain was a mess of static electricity. What the heck was that? Ludwig had been nice. Nice. Ludwig, the guy he'd been terrified of for the past six months, had been nice...

Slowly, he turned to look at the empty space that the German had occupied just moments before. Had that really just happened? It was so hard to believe. Ludwig had helped him off the floor, asked him if he was alright and dusted him off... He just couldn't process it.

After a long pause, a different part of his brain kicked in. He'd been nice. Maybe Ludwig wasn't such a bad person, after all. He'd seen a side of him today that he hadn't even thought existed. A thoughtful side. A caring side.

A smile started to spread across his face. Ludwig was nice. Eventually, the smile blossomed into a happy grin. Ludwig was really nice!