DISCLAIMER: Hetalia: Axis Powers – Hidekaz Himaruya
FAMOUS FIRST WORDS
WARNING:This story is intended for a mature audience and contains scenes and themes that some readers may find offensive.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please excuse my taking liberties with some character names and relationships.
ALWAYS practice safe sex.
CAST OF CHARACTERS (in order of appearance):
ENGLAND — Arthur Kirkland
CANADA — Matthew Williams
DENMARK — Mikkel Densen
NORWAY — Bjørn Thomassen
ICELAND — Emil Thomassen
ROMANO — Lovino Vargas
FRANCE — Francis Bonnefoi
SPAIN — Antonio Fernández Carriedo
PRUSSIA —Gilbert Beilschmidt
RUSSIA — Ivan Braginsky
CHINA — Wang Yao
GERMANY — Ludwig Beilschmidt
HONG KONG — Li Xiao Chun
AMERICA — Alfred Jones
TURKEY — Sadik Adnan
ITALY — Feliciano Vargas
PROLOGUE
It was late. The tiny postwar house was cold and funeral-black. And it was quiet. The clock ticked, and the radiator hummed, and outside traffic honked abrasively and the eleven-fifteen train roared by, shaking the walls, but inside the small bedroom it was quiet.
Arthur was seventeen-years-old, pale, underfed, and hugging the only living relative he had left. He crushed young Matthew close. The boy was sobbing. He hugged Arthur tight, seeking a shield from the grief. They sat together on the single-bed they had been sharing for most of their lives: a wire-framed bed in a boxy, windowless bedroom with ugly yellow wallpaper. Aunt Madeline had not been wealthy. The circumstances of her late-husband's death had left her deep in illegal debt, the kind that was impossible for someone of humble means to ever pay off. Arthur couldn't recall a time before the debt-collectors and loan-sharks, who banged on the door in the small hours of morning. They scared Matthew. Poor fragile Matthew with his big frightened eyes. He and Arthur were both small for their ages, both of them skinny. Hungry. Arthur had spent his childhood pretending to hate scones just so Matthew could have more to eat. And with no forthcoming inheritance that wasn't likely to change.
"It's alright," Arthur whispered as he rubbed Matthew's back, trying to soothe his young cousin. "It's going to be alright. I'm going to take care of us, Matthew. Don't you worry, poppet, everything is going to be alright."
Arthur's words fell on deaf ears, but he talked anyway. He needed to, otherwise he might start crying. And he couldn't cry, no matter what. He couldn't break down. He had to be strong now for Matthew. Now that Aunt Madeline was buried, Matthew was the only thing that orphaned Arthur had left. He sat on their shared bed and he cradled his cousin in his arms. He wouldn't let Social Services take Matthew to an orphanage or a foster-home. Arthur had lived in foster-care for a few years after his mother had disappeared, before Aunt Madeline had found and taken him in. Arthur had only been three-years-old then, but he remembered the filthy, crowded place. He would not let them take Matthew to a place like that.
"I won't let them take you away," he said. "I swear, I won't. I'll make sure we stay together. We'll always be together, poppet. Just you and I, okay? It's just you and I now, but don't worry. I'll take care of you."
Arthur was only seventeen-years-old. He kissed his cousin's curly head and swore a solemn vow:
"I'll do something—anything. I'll do whatever it takes to protect us, I promise."