Of Faeries and Make-Believe Heroes

Chapter One

This is actually an RP between myself and my amazing ukechan, valentinomentis.

Please enjoy and remember to review! We love feedback.

(And we don't own Axis Powers Hetalia, or the Hetalia Gakuen game. Although everything that can't isn't seen in the game is our own ideas. ^_^)

Alfred looked up at the huge collection of buildings before him. The World Academy has sounded impressive when he had first heard of it--totally fit for a hero like himself--but he didn't imagine the architecture to be so exquisite! There was certainly nothing so grand like this at home.

And to think this was to be his school...and his home for the next three years! The thought of being so far from home was saddening, but at the same time it was like embarking on a grand adventure. He was so excited his hands were shaking. He shoved his fists into his pockets and walked inside the main building. He searched for what seemed like an eternity for the office. There, after conversing with the cute receptionist, he acquired a much needed school map that had routes to the most important places highlighted--the cafeteria, vending machines, bathrooms, and his classroom. On the back of this paper was a map of the whole campus, which was quite helpful, because without it, there was surely no way he'd ever be able to find his dorm or the sports grounds. (He had yet to venture to the dorms. Although it seemed like the most logical place to go to first, he had, as usual, arrived a little later than he had planned on. It was fine though, because his belongings had been shipped ahead of time and he was certain he'd overcome jetlag after consuming numerous energy drinks.)

Clutching the map tightly, Alfred left the office and walked down the hall, heading for his designated classroom. Though I should stop by a vending machine first...I haven't eaten in an hour... Amending his plans, he walked in the opposite direction in search of snacks.

As he walked, he scanned the masses of students for anyone he might know. He knew the chances of this were quite slim. But! But! Given a week, he was certain everyone here would know him. After all, he was destined for great things (a Hero!), therefore well-known.

At one point he saw a familiar mass of blond hair go by in the opposite direction. But it couldn't have been....no, it couldn't have been who he thought it might have. And even if it was...Alfred sighed and stuffed his face with a sweet bun from the vending machine. He tried to vanquish his thoughts from his mind, but it didn't work. The thoughts got worse, the memories felt so fresh that his stomach churned. It didn't keep him from eating though. He decided he wouldn't let that person to win, even if it all was just in his head.

After a moment, he regained his composure and headed for class. Because they hadn't spoken in years, Alfred didn't know where the other was. But if by some ironic coincidence that he was here, they were bound to meet sooner or later. And Arthur Kirkland would be in for a rather (un) pleasant surprise.

Arthur was behind schedule.

That fool had to be so busy paying attention to football that he paid no attention to the instructions given to him- and poor Arthur had ended up leading his old friend to a specific classroom while chatting all the way. Of course the fact that he lost track of time in spite of having a pocket watch, plus a wristwatch was clearly not his fault but rather his friend's, and when he had noticed what time it was, he had to rush all the way to his classroom – which was in the opposite direction, near the America class' classroom.
Bloody hell, the day couldn't have started any better, could it?

He had woken up with a slight headache, had managed to burn his breakfast – which was quite the surprise; he always cooked so well! – and now he had to run to class in fear of being late, all because of his friend, while trying to ignore the stupidly large amount of things he would have to do afterward. He felt utterly frustrated and buried in work, and he really just wanted to crawl into a hole with his faerie friends and hide until God knows how long.

It took him a while to reach his classroom and he was relieved that the class hadn't started yet; it would be a disgrace if the student council president was late to one of his classes with no apparent reason. He had to make himself look good – even if pretty much everyone seemed to hate him for some reason or another. Especially Antonio. Not that Arthur was fond of him, anyway.

But it was as he neared the America class that he spotted a familiar mass of dirty blond hair and the face it was attached to. He froze in his spot, as several things ran through his mind; what was he doing here? Why him, of all people? He wasn't even mistaking him for young Matthew, no.
It was Alfred-fucking-F.-Jones.

It suddenly dawned on him that they could not be seen standing in the same hallway and his first reaction was to hide behind a large pillar, grabbing a random punk fashion magazine from his bag and opening it as if he was reading it – upside-down, too; Arthur had quite a talent for reading things upside-down when he was anxious and trying to hide for some reason or another.

"No, this- this cannot be happening. No, no, no…" He kept muttering to one of his little supernatural friends who had suddenly appeared on his shoulder.

Feliciano was bored. Well, bored wasn't the right word for it- he simply didn't feel like sitting through one of his boring classes. He would much rather eat some pasta and listen to good music until it was time for siesta! But as it was, he was basically forced to attend those classes – who knows what Lovino or Ludwig would do if they knew young Feliciano was skipping his classes? Nothing good, that as much he knew.
So he was walking to his class with a most distressed expression, until something caught his eye: Arthur was standing behind one of the large pillars in a most inconspicuous manner. The first thing he thought of, other than how much he wanted some pasta right then, was to approach him.
"Ehh, England? Why are you standing there like that? Ve, it looks strange!"

The rambling Italian had caught Arthur off guard. He lowered the magazine enough to meet the boy's eyes and glared at him.
"Shut up, you dolt! And get going, your class will begin soon!"

When he realized how loudly he had spoken, he suddenly looked around frantically, as if he expected to be jumped on by someone – someone other than Francis, that is.
He didn't even notice as Feliciano began to whimper, and soon, to cry.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you!" He shouted, flailing his arms. It was quite a natural sight for most people who knew the Italian; he was a complete coward who preferred the good things of life over conflict.

England simply sighed, hiding his face once more behind the magazine. He was done for.

Francis opened the door that had 'EUROPE CLASS' in black lettering on the translucent window and sauntered in. He paused at the doorway so his fellow classmates could take a moment to re-recognize his superior beauty. Although it was most certainly impossible for them to forget someone so elegantly dressed, with such perfect golden tresses and an aesthetically pleasing face and physique as himself, there was a minute possibility that their memory could have slightly faded over the summer.

With a flashy toss of his perfectly bouncy hair, he took his seat in the middle of the classroom. The desk in front of his belonged to that tête de rosbif, Arthur Kirkland. It wasn't often that Francis beat him to class, so thought of it as a personal victory. To his right sat Ludwig, who when he wasn't being dreadfully boring and brooding, liked to pretend he didn't fancy the pasta-addicted Feliciano who sat directly behind Francis. To his left was…some little Andorran child whose name he couldn't recall. Antonio sat on the other side of said person. Francis wished it wasn't so…he liked Antonio. Perhaps not all the time, but they both had flowers and passion in common, and that was enough at the moment for Francis to find at least an ally in him, if not friend. Oh how he'd love to sit by someone who didn't have giant eyebrows and poor tastes or constantly ate wursts!

As he got comfortable in his seat, Arthur walked into the room, clearly looking disgruntled. Francis wondered what was bothering him. It wasn't like he truly hated him. He was a pompous twit, yes, but he could be loads of fun as well. After the Englishman sat down, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Arthur and nuzzled his shoulder. "Mon petit idiot, this year a new class was added and right now there are only three students. C'est vrai. And to know you haven't hunted them down to force your nourriture dégoûtante on them! Ça je fais un choc! Are you ill, petit? Perhaps it is those eyebrows! No longer just aesthetically displeasing, but malignant! Fret not, chéri. I happen to have the best connections! We'll get those hideous mops waxed off your face and then you might actually stand a chance in getting laid! " All the while, he allowed his hands to roam to wherever they could reach.

"Oh shut your trap, you imbecile!" Arthur growled angrily at Francis and his less than acceptable behaviour. He was so used to the young man's advances, though that did not mean he liked it – or at least not in one of his bad days such as that one. He made a feeble attempt at slapping his hands away, but sadly, he knew that the Frenchman would just find another moment to molest him. Hopefully he would be mildly decent throughout their first class.

He purposefully chose to ignore Francis' comments about his eyebrows and his sexual activity. The former was none of his business and as for the latter, well, neither - the most part, anyway.

He sighed as he watched a tearful Feliciano burst into the room. The first thing he did was to head over to Ludwig, whose mere presence was enough to make him wipe those tears from his face, even if he was still as upset.

"A-a-and I was so s-s-s-scared, Doitsu!" He prolonged the German's name in an overdramatic manner as he kept on spilling nonsense after nonsense about being scared and Arthur and magazines and pasta.

Arthur glanced over at Ludwig, but immediately looked away. He was in no mood for arguments.

Eventually, Feliciano just sat down and rested his head on the table, seemingly falling into a light slumber.

As soon as the class was dismissed, Arthur put his things way and stormed out the room in a less than pleasant disposition. If that bastard Francis dared to chase after him and molest him some more, he would murder him!

Ludwig sent an icy glare to the Englishman sitting diagonally from him. He let the picking on his Italian sidekick slide this once, but he committed the incident to his memory. If Arthur was smart he'd leave Feliciano alone. The Italian didn't seem to be hurt, as he went to his desk and fell asleep. Seeing that his little comrade was alright put him at ease. Although he wouldn't admit such a thing. Ever.

The day, as Ludwig has suspected, drug on miserably. The first day of a new semester was always like this. Rules, paperwork, syllabuses. A giant headache, more like. Once class was dismissed, he was relieved. After a much needed stretch, he shook Feliciano's shoulder. "Oi! Wake up."

Feliciano couldn't be happier with his class. He had arrived sad and tearful and had made a point to express it to his dear friend Ludwig – and possibly to Lovino as well. He had dozed off for just a few minutes and when the teacher reprimanded him, he nearly burst into tears again – but then, the teacher just patted him on the head and asked if he wanted some pasta. And what tasty pasta, that was! But then he noticed that there was a music playing and beautiful girls all around - and suddenly the clock chimed 3:00PM and it was siesta time! Naturally, his first instinct was to strip naked and lie down on one of those comfortable pillows on the back of the room. Ah, the school year was going to be great!

Oi! Wake up.

"Ahhh!" Feliciano nearly jumped as he felt someone grabbing his shoulder. It was siesta time, why was someone interrupting him? He opened his eyes and looked around, finding himself in the boring classroom once again, with Ludwig's hand on his shoulder like he had tried to wake him up.
He sighed in a distressed manner; it had been a dream! There was no way he would ever be able to do such things in class, was there? Oh, what a cruel world!
"How long was I asleep?" He asked curiously.

Ludwig ruffled the brunette's hair. (It was ok, because they were now the only ones in the room.) "You slept most of the day." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I filled out your paperwork and such for you." Even if Feliciano had been awake, he probably would have drawn all over it or something anyway. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat. "Anyway. We have to meet Kiku. I can't ever tell what he's thinking, but I'm sure he won't be thrilled if we're late. Come on." He walked out of the room without waiting for the Italian to get his things together. He'd be at his heels like a terrier in moments anyway.

Feliciano closed his eyes and bit his lower lip so hard he almost bled; it was all he could do to try and suppress the shivers he felt all the way down his spine as Ludwig's hand rested on his hair – or rather, in that one hair in particular. He could only thank the gods that his friend didn't have a habit of touching it, or else they would end up in a quite awkward situation.
Of course he should have been a smart young man and told his friend about his "little secret", but he couldn't really do it – what would happen if he suddenly told him what it felt like after it happening more than once? Ludwig would hate him and he didn't want to be hated, not by him!

"Eh, thank you!" Feliciano smiled when the blond told him that he had filled in his papers, too. At the same time he felt a bit guilty for making his friend work twice as hard... But Ludwig didn't really seem to mind; not half of the time, anyway. His eyes were still closed, and he heard him saying that they should meet up with Kiku. But the words didn't quite process in his mind for a while and when they did, Ludwig was already out of the room.
He quickly put his things away and ran out of the classroom and after Ludwig. He had no qualms over grasping his friend's hand and humming a cheerful tune as they walked side-by-side; it was one of his habits, hopefully the German would be used to it by then.

Ludwig had gotten several metres away from the classroom before Feliciano caught up and grabbed his hand. He felt his cheeks burn instantly and did his best to hide the embarrassing feelings he felt right now. He really didn't mind all the affection the Italian gave him...it was just...he wasn't used to it and it made him uncomfortable quite frequently. He didn't mention this to Feliciano though. The Italian's wails grated on his nerves.

He walked with Feliciano to the storage closet where the Italian and Kiku held their unofficial manga club meetings. The room served a dual purpose. Since it was a storage closet, they could talk about their plans without much interruption. (The interruptions they did have were usually from Lovino trying to steal his brother away.)

Honda Kiku was sitting on a handcrafted cushion on the floor of the storage room. His classroom was closer so he usually beat the two Europeans there. In the spare moments of silence, he liked to contemplate things and meditate. When the other two arrived, he bowed slightly and greeted them with a polite 'good afternoon.'

"Good afternoon, Kiku!" Feliciano greeted merrily, waving his free hand for a bit before he pulled Ludwig into the room. He only let go of his hand when he found a good spot on the floor to sit down, cross-legged and barefoot. He looked up at the German and smiled warmly, expecting him to sit close by. Moments later, he looked down at his watch; perhaps he would still have time for a siesta!

"Ve, ve, what are we going to do today?" He inquired curiously, scratching his cheek. Well, Ludwig was here so the chances of them speaking about manga were slim – unless he had finally joined their club for real! Oh, it would be amazing if he did so; they could spend much more time together and share more of their tastes with Kiku.

Although… He had to wonder if big brother would like that. Feliciano didn't want to upset Lovino. But he didn't want to end his friendship with Ludwig, either… Perhaps if he saw how nice and friendly the German could be, in spite of his occasional outbursts, he would want to join them too and they could all be friends!

Feliciano leaned back, smiling in an absent-minded manner. For a moment he forgot about his surroundings and instead allowed his mind to wander off to the idea of his big brother and his best friend finally getting along.

Ludwig took a seat beside Feliciano and nodded a greeting to Kiku. "Today we need to start coming up with plans for taking over the school." The idea sounded strange, but the German had the need to conquer and destroy. "Roderich will easily give in and from there I can take out various classmates." Inevitably, he'd get enough power to overthrow Arthur and Francis--the latter would be a piece of cake--and then things would change around here!

Kiku nodded. "Yao and the others can be persuaded to see my way of things," he said, hinting that persuasion might be with force.

The two continued discussing possibly plans of action.

Feliciano merely stared at the two of them, having returned to the reality of the storage closet they were in once he heard the words plans and taking over.

He sighed in a lamenting manner; it seemed as if Ludwig was still bent on taking over the school. He had been at it for a long time now – and becoming friends with Kiku had only made it so that his plans were more than a mere dream. Not that Feliciano didn't like Kiku – he was his friend, of course! But when it was just Ludwig and the Italian, for some reason he couldn't understand, Ludwig never seemed actually be making plans. It made him wonder if he had some silly idea that it had to be the three of them to do things.

"Ve, you're not going to hurt Elizaveta-chan, are you?" He asked curiously, looking over at Ludwig. He didn't want the girl to be hurt; she was one of his oldest friends and had always been very nice to him. And when someone mentioned Roderich, he was instantly reminded of her.

He didn't say anything else; there wasn't much he could do, really. Lovino would never buy it if he asked him to join them, and all the other students could be so mean and scary it wasn't even funny!

Ludwig sipped on some green tea, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before he spoke again. The tea was alright as far as his tastes preferences went—he much preferred beet, but being at a school, such beverages were prohibited. This fact wouldn't stop him from bringing his drinks, had it not been for the pompous student council president. The jerk actually enforced regular inspections for illegal paraphernalia. Being a renowned disciplinarian, those caught were severely punished. And Ludwig couldn't take such chances, not if he wanted to succeed in his plans. So he went without beer—drinking it only during the select weekends the students were allowed to venture off the school grounds.

He turned to the Italian when he asked about Elizabeta. In all honesty, he had forgotten Feliciano was even there. He was so used to the Italian being loud and animated by one thing or the other that the elongated silence from him was enough for him to forget about him all together. Temporarily, anyway. The Italian was on his mind a lot more that he'd like to admit. He studied his friend for a moment. He didn't know what would happen to Elizabeta, but there was no reason to upset Feliciano. "She'll be fine," he reassured him, mentally adding, as long as she follows Roderich's lead and caves easily. He didn't see that happening though.

Kiku sipped his tea, still amazed it tasted so good even though it was prepared in a conventional way. He had always prepared his tea by boiling water, but since the storage room had no stove no anything else where he could properly boil water, he had to improvise. One day during a previous school year he had found a coffee maker in the storage room. Because he was one who liked to know vast amounts of knowledge about things, no matter how trivial, he knew the water in the coffee maker would get just as hot without the coffee grinds as with. (Really, anyone could have quite easily deduced this, but Kiku liked to think he came upon this idea logically and scientifically.) Of course, he was right. He added loose green tea leaves to the coffee pot after the water had heated. He had tried, out of curiosity, and Feliciano's suggestion, to put the tea leaves in the coffee filter, but the resulting tea was not satisfactory, in his opinion.

He now watched the German and the Italian converse. He liked both of them—their alliance was beneficial to him and he had learned a lot from spending time with them, but he still couldn't figure out Ludwig's friendship with Feliciano. Or why Feliciano was even included in this. The boy was nice. But that was it—nice. He wasn't ruthless, he wasn't brave, and he didn't seem to have any motivation to conquer the school like they did. Feliciano just wanted to be by Ludwig's side. Perhaps that was it. I wonder what it is like to have such a relationship with another… Until he as addressed again, he sat in silence and mused over this.

Alfred found his classroom with relative ease. He stood in front of the door, pumped up and excited—no thanks to the six energy drinks he chugged this morning. He was going to in there and show everyone his awesomeness! With a dramatic opening of the door, he walked into the room. "Yo! My name is Alfred F Jones! I'm a he—" He looked around, easily overlooking another blond and a boy wearing a poncho and sombrero over his uniform. "…ro. What the hell? There's no one in here!"

With a sigh he took a seat in an empty desk and rested his feet on the legs of the desk in front of him. This…this totally blew. How was he supposed to show how much of a hero he was when there was no other classmate to show his amazingness to? He spaced out as the teacher called roll.

"Pedro Hernandez?"

"Aquí."

"Alfred Jones?"

Alfred looked up and smiled. "You can call me 'Hero.'"

The teacher made no acknowledgment of the comment and continued. "Matthew Williams?" She didn't wait for the boy to reply before she sat the paper down and looked at them with mild disinterest. "This is North America class. Take a look around you. These are the same people you will see every day for the next three years. Before today's lesson begins, a class representative needs to chosen. They will be in charge of various things involving this class, as well as the student council—"

That sounds like a hero's job! "I'll do it!" Alfred said abruptly, jumping to his feet.

"...Alright…" She rolled her eyes. "Go to the student council room after class."

He nodded happily and sat in his seat. He was so excited now! Then he looked at the clock and his heart dropped…another four hours until lunch!

(If you didn't guess Pedro is our Mexico until there's an official one. xD)