World W Academy. A place where the countries' personifications could gather peacefully and learn what a human their "age" should learn. The school was protected with the highest level of security possible and only accessible by high-tech "portals" in each country's home. The academy offered grades sixth through college and graduate school. The campus also served as a miniature city with garages, dorms, restaurants, and more. Security is the most important aspect at the school. Even the teachers are oblivious to their students' true identity and know them as merely, "gifted children." Even at such a prestigious school, there are slackers, as in every other place.
France, also known as Francis Bonnefoy, is one of those slackers. He was a good student, but his interest lay more with sex and wine, rather than academics. France lay on one of the elaborately carved, stone benches. Even on stone, it was comfortable to lay in the sunlight, ignoring the outside world for a while.
"U-Um, excuse me?"
France groaned and turned sideways. He must have fallen asleep. He looked up to see a teenage girl that had long brown hair with a strand wrapped in white ribbon, wearing a green, lacy dress.
"Bonjour beautiful," France never missed a pass at a pretty girl. "How are you doing?"
The girl flushed. "O-oh. C-Could you tell me what class Romano is in?"
"Romano? You mean South Italy?"
"Yes! What room is he in?" Her face lit up.
"I think he's in room A4, in the Europe high school wing, but-"
"Oh thank you!" the girl beamed and ran off, her Mary Janes clicking on the pathway.
France stared after her, bewildered and very interested.
Ω
Romano was bored.
Then again, this wasn't anything new. School was so boring and he didn't understand how humans endured this five days a week! He could barely take even one day a week, but it was his boss's orders.
"So, can anyone tell me what the rhyme scheme is for this poem?" the old lady droned on and on.
Suddenly, the wooden door swung open and everyone's but Romano's head turned.
A girl stood in the doorway with her hand clutched to her chest.
"R-Romano?" she stammered.
Romano turned his head so fast towards the door that his neck cracked. He knew that voice.
"Sicily?"