Hey guys, this is my first ever fanfiction so, be gentle. I'm not good at introductions so hey, I'm RollieZ, and welcome to my fanfiction. This is an AU (obviously) where the Hetalia guys are so bloody hoT, (with a capital't') and juniors in a very prestigious high school. This is rated M, so watch at your own risk.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters
Summary: Hetalia High, School for young aristocrats. Despite them being the children of the most influential people in their respective nations. With Busy parents, children will be ignored, and despite their maturity, these guys are no different. Watch as they struggle to choose between personal and political relationships while they make mistakes and find themselves. Please read! Contains USUK, RUSPRUS, SPAMANO, GERITA, ROMANIAN (Rome and Germania)! I am very open to suggestions and could add more ships
Chapter: 1
Alfred was running down the hall like an absolute madman. He had bumped into about 7 people so far, and the number could only increase.
He was late to practice. Not by a little, by a lot.
It's all that stupid Brits fault he thought as he silently prayed his coach wouldn't notice his tardiness. If it hadn't been for Arthur picking a fight with him in front of the principle, they wouldn't have needed to mop the cafeteria for half an hour.
Alfred turned a sharp corner, and darted down the hall, his gray duffle bag hitting his thigh and his dress shoes squeaking as he ran. His shoes.
Shit
He hadn't changed his shoes. Or anything for that matter. He still had his navy blue blazer on, and he had sweat through his white button-down shirt. His black slacks were beginning to collect dust and his once shiny leather dress shoes were dull and scuffed. To prevent any further damage to his clothes, he made a 'U' turn and headed back down the way he came, running towards the most recent male restroom he had seen. That was 4 minutes ago.
Why is this school so fucking huge? He thought as he panted. He had finally made it to the bathroom he had seen, only to read the sign that says "Female" on it. It took a couple of moments for Alfred to understand what he just read.
"WHATTTT?!" he yelled as he threw his heavy duffle bag on the floor. He did not just run 4 minutes to read a sign saying it was for females. He had to get to practice, it was the last practice before the big game. Which big game? Oh yea the one my father is actually coming to!
That was enough to give Alfred the extra motivation he needed. He ran right back towards the direction of the football practice he was currently missing. I gotta get there, I just gotta. As Alfred ran pass the main lobby of the gigantic building, he couldn't help but hear an alarming exchange of words. "What do you mean you aren't coming?!" he heard a distressed British voice yell into what he could only assume was a cellphone. Alfred stopped dead in his tracks as he hid behind a grand marble column. "You promised you'd come!" he heard the familiar voice hiss. It was Arthur, he could tell by the accent, and the venom he could hear in his voice. "What do you mean you have important things to do?! Aren't I important enough to miss one meeting father?" his voice was shaking with silent rage. Alfred dared to take a peek from behind the column. What he saw however, was not what he was expecting.
The short brit was leaned back against the empty front desk of the lobby. His bright blond hair was as messy as ever, and his super thick eyebrows were furrowed. Arthur was sporting their school's rather good tennis team's white uniform. His arm bands were green and bore his 'family crest' he'd call it. It was a fancy depiction of a lion jumping through a ring of fire with vines and flowers with thorns surrounding it. Alfred had to admit, it was dope as hell. Alfred moved his eyes upwards only to see the emerald green eyes that had always shown either determination or annoyance with instead disappointment and tears threatening to fall. Alfred watched the brit with disbelief as Arthur, red faced, took a shaky breath and spoke once more "Will mum be able to come? Or is she too 'busy' too?" Alfred heard muffling from the phone, and he could only imagine the brit's father, the Prime minister, finally snapping and putting the aristocrat in his place. "This is the most important game of the season, you missed all the other ones so can't you just-" the brit started, but Alfred heard even louder mumbling, and from what Alfred could pick up from the sounds bouncing off of the large marble walls, Prime Minister Kirkland has had enough of the conversation.
The brit opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead hesitated and bit his lip, choosing not to say anything. "I apologize father. Yes I will. Yes. Yeah, sure I will. You're right, it's just a game" Alfred saw the brit wince at the utterance of his passion being just a game. However, the conversation was wrapping up and Alfred quickly and silently ran away from the lobby without being seen and made his final sprint to the field. It took him 6 minutes. Man do I hate this school, he thought as he finally pushed through the double doors leading into the field.
~~~~~~~ HETALIA HIGH~~~~~~~~
The first thing he was greeted with was the beautiful skies and the gorgeous scenery of his school's football field. It had lush green grass, polished bleachers, and bright white markings painted on the ground to oblige to the sport of his nation. Alfred observed his teammates in their typical football uniforms perform drills with their coach. Coach.
Shit
Alfred looked down and stared down at himself, still dressed in his uniform. I'm fucked.
Alfred took a deep breath and swallowed his fear. He walked through the field and tried to ignore the looks of pity and the cries of "Oh shit"s and "He gonna get it now"s. A pale boy, just a year older than Alfred, ran up to him. "Alfie~" Red orbs stared into Alfred's blue ones "Where were you? You missed half of practice you idiot!"
Alfred looked at his captain, Gilbert Beilschmidt, and smiled weakly. "I had to mop the floors, and it takes forever to go from one side of the school to the other!" he took a sideways glance at the coach, who was currently making his way up to them. Alfred looked pleadingly at his friend and asked "Do you think he's mad? I mean I know he's mad but is he, like, really mad?" Gilbert gave his shoulder a tight squeeze and said "ich werde für dich beten" before he walked away.
The tall, tanned, handsome (despite the deep scowl on his face) muscular coach Romulus Vargas marched up to the American, fists balled, and eyes threatening. Alfred watched with warry eye as his coach exhaled from his nose. "Alfred, we need to have a serious discussion" coach said as he blew his whistle. Everyone stopped and made their way to the pair. Alfred saw Gilbert walk up with his younger brother (put to Alfred it looked the other way around) Ludwig, and the Germans gave him a curious look. Ludwig's eyes asking him 'what did you do now?' Alfred responded with a shrug and dropped his head. This is not gonna end well.
The devilishly handsome coach cleared his throat and sighed. "Alfred, are you aware that the biggest game of the season is two days from now. Are you aware that, this is the last practice, because, your teammates are. That's why they were here on time, but you… you're late" and with that he turned his gaze to Alfred, who had no intention of making eye contact. Alfred opened his mouth, ready to explain the main reason why he was late (he had no intention of telling the coach the Arthur story) but the coach spoke first. "No excuses Jones! If this were any other game I would have you benched!" Coach Vargas Hollered.
The whole crowd was uneasy, they'd seen their coach angry plenty of times (usually with Gilbert), but never this angry, especially with his favorite, Alfred. The coach also never threatened to bench anyone before, but then again, in this school of hard workers, no one had never missed half of practice. Alfred stared wide-eyed at Coach Vargas, for the second time that day his face contorted with disbelief. The coach let his words sink in for a few more moments before continuing "But, because I realize that it is the last game of the season, I know we need all hands on deck. And maybe you don't know this, Jones, but that includes you too." Alfred was trying to keep calm but all that was going through his head was how this was his first offense and that he had never done anything to suggest he wasn't a team player. And that honestly made him a little pissed. He however, kept his demeanor and listened to his coach defile him in front of his team.
"You'll spend the rest of practice doing drills, and you'll be staying afterwards to make up for the time you missed. And if you are ever this late again, you could kiss your position on this team goodbye. Now go get changed" he said all in one breath. The coach turned to the rest of the team and told them to go back to practicing, and they ran off quickly. Alfred went to the changing room, got changed and went back. At this point there was only an hour of practice left. When practice ended for the other students, they sped home after rushed goodbyes to Alfred and the field was silent. The sun was beginning to set and the sky was rosy-fingered. When coach finally told him he could go home Alfred sighed, warily making his way to his items. Coach Vargas stopped him, and asked to have a word.
Alfred nodded his head and followed his coach into his office. The coach closed the door behind him and asked Alfred to have a seat in one of the plush brown leather chairs. The office was spacious, and the white walls made it look bigger. The furniture were all brown leather and the dark ebony wood of his coach's office desk looked and probably was expensive. All over the wall were certificates and evidence of his qualifications. On his desk were three photos. The first being the coach and his nephews, Romano and Feliciano. Alfred is friends with them both, but he is closer to Romano though. He not very sure why. The three in the photo were next to some ruins, that if Alfred remembered his textbooks correctly, in Rome. The second photo was a group photo of the team holding their 1st place trophy last year, and Alfred could remember the cheers and laughs and even tears the coach tried to hold back. The memory brought a smile to Alfred's lips. The third photo looked kind of intimate. The coach was in a suit with a rose in his mouth. His amber eyes looked loving and soft, but it wasn't towards the camera. The coach held a pale beauty in his hands, who had sharp eyes and high cheekbones. The person had long golden blond hair, and despite the slight frown on their face, they looked content with staying in Romulus's arms. All Alfred was trying to figure out was whether the person in the photo was a male or female.
"Ahem" Coach Vargas cleared his voice to catch his student's attention. There was a slight blush on the coach's face, but Alfred chose to ignore it. "I know I've been a bit harsh on you. But don't you know who's coming to the game?" the coach inquired. He had one eyebrow raised and his eyes sparkled. Alfred smiled and said "Yeah, my father is coming. But you two have been friends for years what does that have to do with anything?" Alfred raised an eyebrow too. Rome sighed, as if to say that Alfred is soooo out of the loop, and actually said "Not only is your father, the ambassador of America, coming, but the Prime Minister of England, The Prime Minister of France, the chancellor of Germany, and the Prime Minister of Spain are coming to this game. Why? Because they are having a meeting near this palace of a school and they would rather unwind while watching football than cricket or golf"
Or tennis Alfred thought. What if Arthur finds out his father came to watch other kids play. Alfred didn't want to think about it. "That's quite the turn out, I guess we really do need to bring our A-Game. I guess I'm sorry" Alfred said as he looked down. The coach looked at him and sighed "I'm sure you had your reasons Alfie. You may go now"
Alfred stood, said goodbye and left. When he got home, his half-brother greeted him with a warm hug and pancakes, and his mother greeted him with a smile. He smiled back and went to his room. When he landed on his bed, he wanted to go to sleep so badly, but he smelled like shit and needed a shower. He grabbed a towel and went to the bathroom in his room, and stripped his clothing. His muscle were sore, and he was sure his shoulders would fall off but, thankfully, they didn't. He stepped into the shower and turned it on, he welcomed the warm water on his achy muscles. But alas, it was getting late and he was exhausted. He left the shower, wrapped himself with his towel and dried off. After he was, he swiftly put on his boxers and collapsed against his pillows. We was out within moments.
Next morning, he didn't even hear his alarm.
How do you guys like it so far? Is it good? Any areas of Improvement? I am open to all kinds of suggestions! Like I said this is my first, so please REVIEW AND FOLLOW, even favorite if it's worthy. If you have any ships you want me to consider adding, review, leave a comment. I'm really excited about starting this journey with you all. Updates will happen every weekend (I'll try, but I know I will never go MIA in the middle of my story without a heads up) Thanks for reading!
