I don't own Hetalia.

.-*-.

Gakuen Academy. The school was infamous, as it was school for the children of the rich, the famous, and the powerful.

Matthew Williams wasn't any of those. In fact the only reason he got in at all was because he won a scholarship. Number one test score off all the students that wanted to attend, which was, in fact, most of the developing world.

His Pére was so proud.

But that meant he was a lot poorer than all of the kids going to the school, which was why he didn't live in the dorms, was wearing his old red sweater and jeans, had to call the school twice because the bus driver and guards outside the school they wouldn't believe him. They thought he stole the school Id he kept showing them, but in the end he got a free ride on the public bus and he got into the school, which was where the real fun began.

Matthew was used to people not seeing him, in fact he was counting on it, but his lack of uniform and over all lack of rich people smell caused everyone around him to stare, and he knew exactly what they were seeing. A thin boy of average height, who had the potential to be an all-around athletic star if he ever tried, who was wearing a worn old red and white hoodie with frayed jeans, with shoulder length wavy light blonde hair that fade to dark blonde near the ends. The silver rounded-rectangle frames that sat on the bridge of his nose helped to put a barrier in between the world and his boyish face, which was, in fact, exactly how he likes it.

Matthew did his best to ignore the staring and whispering as he passed and resolved to find his locker as quickly as possible, so started to run down the highly decorated hallways.

That was until he knocked over a kid a few centimeters below his height. Both Matthew and the boy went tumbling to the ground, their books scattering.

"J'ai désolé," Matthew gasped as he picked himself off the floor, then realized that he had spoken in French, and the person he had knocked over might not even know French, and the person he had knocked over wasn't even speaking English, but instead a kind of Spanish language, and oh God he was yelling at him, and the smaller boy that the boy he had knocked over had been speaking with was speaking the same language and looked like he wanted to cry, and oh God someone was coming over, and where the maple are my glasses?

"Hola, may I be of some help?" a boy a bit shorter than Matthew came over. He had somewhat curly hair in a short style, green eyes, an olive skin tone and a face with clear cut features.

"No you many not tomato bastard!" the boy on the floor yelled, finally switching to English. He also had olive skin, with brown short hair with a piece on the right side that seemed to defy gravity. His eyes were angry and hazel. The boy that was trying to help him up about the same height as him, with the same olive tone, but auburn hair that had a curl on the left side, and he was still crying and shouting in his native language. They looked so similar that they were probably brothers, if not twins.

The Spanish boy only laughed and grabbed the swearing boy and lifted him off the ground and into his shoulder, smiled at the other boy, and left with the swearing boy kicking and screaming at him in various languages.

Matthew sat there for a moment, a bit dazed to tell the truth, but quickly shook himself out of it before picking up his books. "J- I'm sorry!" he whispered.

The crying boy sniffed and smiled. "That's okay. Fratello gets mad a lot. My name's Feliciano Vargas. Who are you?"

"Matthew Williams," he said about to pick up his art book, but it was snatched up by Feliciano.

"Do you go here?" he asked looking at the book.

Matthew nodded and held out his hand, but Feliciano only looked him up and down. "But you're not wearing a uniform."

The blonde only shrugged. "I got in on scholarship, and I couldn't afford one. I'm lucky the classes come with the books otherwise I wouldn't have them either."

The smaller nodded sadly. "That's too bad." But imminently afterwards his face lit up. "But you're here now! I'll show you to all my friends!"

Matthew opened his mouth to say 'no' but the look of pure excitement on Feliciano's face made him stop. "Okay, but I really need to get to class."

Feliciano threw his arms into the air. "Yeeeepppppeeee!" He grabbed Matthew's arm and started to pull him down the hall. "Come on! I show you Ludwig and Kiku!"

Matthew tripped slightly, but followed the fast, energetic, and loud boy.

.-*-.

Ludwig turned out to be a German boy who looked like the text book definition of 'German', complete with slicked back blonde hair, startling blue eyes, strong jaw and body, tall… in fact the only thing that made him look like he wasn't one of the strongest boys in the school where his silver framed glasses, which, for some, reason made him look a bit softer.

Kiku, on the other hand, was a small, thin, Japanese boy with black hair and flat brown colored eyes that seemed more interested in the manga he was reading then meeting Matthew, which Matthew didn't mind what so ever.

Their short conversation consisted of Feliciano talking very fast, Ludwig trying to calm him down, and Matthew trying to track the Italian's words (which was hard because he kept switching between languages) and Kiku nodded once in a while in agreement while he played his Nintendo DS.

"I've got to go," Matthew tried to say, but it took him several times before any of them heard him.

"But why?" Feliciano pouted.

"I have to find my locker and my classes…"

He brightened up again. "Then we'll show you, right Ludwig?"

The blonde sighed. "Ja." He took Matthew's schedule out of his hand, scanned it, and led the way with the other three behind him.

Matthew watched the Italian boy pretend he was an air plane and the German boy bark at him for making so much noise. "Is it always like this?"

"Hai."

Matthew sighed a bit. Kiku hadn't even looked up from his game.

.-*-.

Matthew stared blankly at his locker. It looked like a locker that he had had at his other schools, but there wasn't a lock.

Matthew ran a hand through his hair and looked around for help, but the three other student's had already left. Matthew ran his hand though his hair again. "Maple."

"Do you need some help?"

Matthew turned to see a tall, thin, plain-faced boy with brown hair that was just long enough to be pulled back into a ponytail. The Canadian nodded.

"Hand me you're student Id."

Matthew nodded and handed it to him, and the boy stuck it into a slot in the door that Matthew had failed to notice before. A light near the locker handle flashed green and it opened. The boy took the Id out and handed it back to the blonde.

Matthew stared for a minute, and then turned to say thank you to the brunette, but he had already walked away talking to a shorter boy with shoulder length straw blond hair.

He shrugged and sighed, grabbing the books he would need for the first half of the day.

.-*-.

Advanced Geometry.

Was there something wrong with him if he said he thought that this subject was going to be easy?

In fact Matthew found math incredibly easy, the same with science. In other words he could have skipped this class altogether, have someone simply give him the bookwork, and he would most likely pass the class with flying colors.

But that's not how things worked, and that's why he was sitting at the back of the class while everyone looked him over. He tried to disappear, which normally would have happened, but while everyone was staring at him it didn't seem to work.

Matthew has never been more uncomfortable in his life.

"What's your name?" the teacher asked, who looked like he had been born and breed to be a stern teacher.

"Name?"

"Matthew Williams, sir."

"Linage?"

"Canadian."

The man blinked and smirked. "That's it?" and he walked away to pick on another student.

Matthew blushed angrily, but didn't said anything. He never did.

.-*-.

Advanced Physics

Advanced Geography

Advanced History

What the maple leaf was I thinking when I signed up for these classes? My brain feels like pudding.

Matthew sighed while he thrust his books into his locker, retrieved his lunch and books for the second half of the day.

Gym

Art

Choir

Study Hall

Matthew closed his locker sharply, plucked his glasses off his face, and rubbed his eyes. He leaned against his locker. What have I gotten myself into?

.-*-.

An idea that I got a while ago. Please read and review.