Since I've only written depressing stories, I decided to try to write fluff.

Yeah...

I FAILED.

Just know that this was my first time writing fluff, and that I tried out a new style of writing here (took a break from my other abstract [as I call it] writing style) so it's bound to be bad.

Enjoy anyway~ ^_^

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. It belongs to its rightful and respectful owners.


It all started with a soccer ball, as the American kid called it.

A small child with spiky hair (that had a strange cowlick on the front) and bright, curious blue eyes had appeared on a street that consisted of multiple other children of various nationalities. He was the first American to appear in a long time, and multiple other kids were fascinated (some horrified) at how he acted. It wasn't long before he made friends and enemies.

So when he appeared with a 'soccer' ball under one arm and an aura of pride radiating off of him like the rays from the sun, others watched with wide eyes as he yelled, "HEY! LET'S PLAY SOCCER!"

And that launched an hour long verbal battle between him, a boy with bushy eyebrows, a boy that wore a scarf despite the warm heart (he only made a comment or two), and quite a few others. According to them, it was called football.

The only two that weren't making comments was a small seven year old with an abnormal curl and an intimidating eight year old with slicked back blonde hair. They both sat next each other in silence, watching the scene unfold with amused eyes. The child with the abnormal curl had a puzzled expression while the other held a strong poker face.

After a while, they saw the verbal battle break up, the American deciding to set the ball down, aim at the kid with the bushy eyebrows, and kick the ball.

Thus began a mini war.

The American laughed and called it the Revolutionary War since 'Eyebrows' (as he called him from then) constantly tried to control his act. A well-known (considered infamous) French boy that had wavy blonde locks and a thing for roses assisted the American kid in their constant mischief.

In the end, 'Eyebrows' surrendered.

And what did the seven and eight year old do?

Watch the entire 'war' unfold with curious and amused eyes with each other. They never did talk. They'd just meet up at the doorstep they always sat at and watched together.

It wasn't until after the 'war' ended that a word was spoken.

Of course, it wasn't the most original thing, but it remained burned into their memory, never leaving. In fact, it made multiple friends double over in laughter, tears escaping them as they pleaded for the pain in their ribs to stop.

It was a typical day. The American child (who finally announced that his name was Alfred) was in the middle of a 'soccer' battle with Eyebrows (who continually yelled that this name was Arthur). They kept performing fancy tricks that no one their age should be able to do, and after Alfred was shoved on the ground by the kid with the scarf (who was still anonymous) a fight broke out.

Rocks were suddenly being thrown everywhere, insults being shouted left and right. Alfred and the kid with scarf were rolling on the ground, pinning each other down and performing strong punches to the one being pinned. Arthur and the teen named Francis were in the middle of a catfight (as the child named Lovino liked to call it), the eight year old named Kiku and his older brother Yao were arguing, and Lovino and his older friend were in the middle of a one-sided verbal fight.

It's a rather infamous event titled 'The Battle of Rocks'.

It wasn't unusual for the now eight year old kid with the peculiar curl to stumble forward, attempting to stop the fighting. Of course, his actions caused even more chaos.

A large rock suddenly flew out of nowhere, striking his temple dead-on. A cry had escaped him as he had fallen on his butt, sobbing as he hunched over in agony. The blonde with striking blue eyes rushed over, and the first words were spoken: "Are you okay?"

Years passed, the two growing closer at a startling speed. It wasn't long before they were never seen with another person, the two always chatting with each other. The blonde with the piercing blue eyes appeared strict, and far too mature for the bubbly Italian, yet to be honest, they needed each other. Both needed each other.

So it shocked everyone to the core when they found the once bubbly Italian sitting alone in the high school cafeteria, head between his knees as sobs racked throughout his body. Lovino had rushed over, announcing to the entire cafeteria that whoever did this to his brother was dead, and everyone knew he wasn't bluffing.

It wasn't until they all saw a note clutched in his right hand that they understood that something was drastically wrong.

But he would never let go.

He stayed in the cafeteria until lunch ended, yet never went to his next class. Instead, he got to his feet and strolled out of the school, head lowered.

And where did he go?

Of course, he went to the doorstep.

He sat there every day, waiting for him to return. His eyes would be wide, a false hope glistening within them. Sometimes, he'd sing a little song and attract anyone passing by. Other times, he'd practice his 'soccer' skills, dribbling around and shooting at the chalk goals. It wasn't long before he lost track of time, yet he matured, grew more independent.

After three years of waiting, of sitting on that doorstep though, his life changed.

After practicing with the ball for three hours and drawing a pretty girl he saw in the café across the street, he found himself swinging his arms as he strolled down the long, brick road, singing a song he created.

"Draw a circle, that's the Earth," he sang, voice resounding off of the walls. Others looked at him, smiling slightly at his naïve appearance. He grinned back, sometimes winking flirtatiously. "Draw a circle, that's the Earth." Observing the scenery, he noted the spot where he fled from Arthur and got the blonde with blue eye's help, which was very effective. He grinned wider. "Draw a circle, that's the Earth."

A pair of striking blue eyes suddenly appeared within the crowd, watching him with astonishment. His heart stuttered, his strides and swinging arms halting almost immediately. He stopped walking altogether, amber eyes wide with shock, confusion...hope. The two gazed at each other before the amber eyed teenager smiled widely, eyes brimmed with fresh tears.

The blue eyed man was suddenly on the ground, being embraced by the sobbing Italian. He felt his face heat up tremendously, causing him to start sputtering nonsense as his friend babbled on about how much he missed him.

"I was so alone here! There was no one to play with or to talk with. Kiku always seemed awkward around me, so I didn't bother him too much, and that Ivan guy's reeaallly scary, and Arthur scares me! Big brother Francis was always busy with Antonio and Gilbert, and Lovino was always around Antonio, so I was alone all the time!" he told him, words being said at an incredible speed.

The blue eyed man that was currently being embraced stared at the sobbing Italian in shock, guilt bubbling up in his chest. The tears made him amber eyes bloodshot, his face red from all the tears. His chest heaved up and down from the wrack the sobs sent through him, trying to get more air. Knowing that his friend needed comfort, he did the only thing he could do…

He hugged him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Ludwig…"

"Feliciano."

The embrace tightened, and when they pulled back, they realized that they were where everything began…

Their doorstep.

The two stared at the spot for a while, the silence comforting. Streams of the sunset hit them, creating a strange aura. Looking up, amber eyes met blue, and both felt their face heat up.

Laughing, Feliciano got to his feet, gripping Ludwig's large hand. "Come on, I wanna show you something~!" he cheered, tear streaked face taking on a joyful appearance. Ludwig raised an eyebrow, yet got to his feet anyway, following his happy friend to a bush. "I keep my ball in here." With that said, a 'soccer' ball with the colors of Italy's flag was printed onto it.

Ludwig's raised eyebrow rose even higher. "A football?" he questioned.

Feliciano nodded. "I've been practicing over the years. Now…" He set it on the ground, eyes holding a strange glint. Ludwig could've sworn that his smile was now a smirk. "Let's see if you've learned anything."

Thus began a whole new war between the two…

This war had its ups and downs, happy peaks, sad peaks, yet oddly, they both won in the end.

It was called 'Love'.


Oh Batman...

THE CRAPINESS

*Drowns under crappiness*

Seriously though...was that cheesy or what? I tried to make it not cheesy, but I FAILED...JUST LIKE THIS STORY'S FLUFF DID.

Whatevs...

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