AN: Okay, so like the 70-something other people who've done this, I'm creating my own Hetalia Unit story. I can't guarantee it'll be as good as others, but I'll try my best to do good! I'll probably not update on a regular basis either, since I have school. But, anyways, I don't own Hetalia- that belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya- and the Hetalia Manuals are all est.1995's (formerly known as LolliDictator). Also, even though this story is rated teen, there is mature language. Honestly, I know kids my age who say a lot worse so this doesn't really need to be rated M, does it? If you think so, I'll raise it, but other than swearing and probably some violence later, the story doesn't really have anything in it to need to be rated M. Yeah, so anyways, enjoy!
A boy sat alone behind a school building, hidden from the view of other teachers or students if they somehow wandered outside. A cigarette rested between his right index and middle finger, and he was scribbling into a notebook propped up onto his knees. A backpack and a guitar shaped case sat on the grass next to him, and the boy grunted as he continued to work on his calculus homework. Certainly, he was skipping his language arts class to do it, but he was such a teacher's pet that his instructor wouldn't mind. Also, he had been rather stressed lately-more than usual-and had needed to get a hit. The boy sighed, setting his pencil on the notebook and running his now free hand through his unruly bleach blond hair. He took another drag of his cigarette.
"Dammit," He muttered. "This shit is hard."
Andrew Chen was a 16 year old Chinese boy with dark brown eyes and bleached hair that was rather messy. He had several tattoos-one on his left shoulder, one on the right side of his waist, one behind his left ear, and one on his ankle. He had a bellybutton, tongue, and six ear piercings, all of which had been done on the same day-he'd been feeling rather defiant that specific afternoon. And, of course, he'd go home and get yelled at by his parents for making these 'foolish mistakes' and was sometimes even slapped. Andrew had learned long ago how to hide his feelings and tune out his parents-well, any person-when he needed to.
Andrew stashed his notebook and pencil into his bag and swung it over his shoulder. He stood and grabbed his instrument case-holding a shiny black electric bass that was the closest thing he'd found to the love of his life. Andrew headed down the road towards his house, and reached it twenty minutes later, right when the last bell rang at the school and released all the students for the afternoon. Neither of his parent's cars were parked in the driveway, which didn't surprise Andrew one bit. What did surprise him, however, was the huge crate-secured tightly with what looked to be... chains?-sitting with a man standing next to it on his front porch.
"What the fuck is that?" He muttered, and headed towards the man in the light blue delivery suit.
"Can I help you?" Andrew asked, looking at the man closely once he reached him. The company logo on his shirt read 'Flying Mint Bunny Co.', and almost made Andrew burst out laughing.
"Are you Andrea Chen?" He asked, glancing at his clipboard.
"What the hell? Do I look like a fucking girl to you?" Andrew snapped. "The name's Andrew, not Andrea."
"Well, I have a delivery for one Andrea Chen at this address," The man said. "You're just going to have to take it, because this guy-" He pointed at the box with his thumb- "Will be extremely cranky if he wakes up while I'm taking him back to headquarters."
"I'm not taking the fucking package," Andrew said. "No one in this house is named Andrea Chen. I don't care if that thing wakes up, take it back!"
"I'm afraid we also have a no return policy on all units unless you call customer services. For now, this unit's all yours." The man offered the clipboard, and Andrew set down his instrument case to take it from him, muttering profanities under his breath. He signed, and the delivery man took the clipboard from him, leaving with a tip of his hat. Andrew swore again after he was gone, and stared at the box in front of him.
"Are these chains really necessary?" He wondered, and examined the box to find the customer service number. Instead, he found a manual with a first page clearly reading:
Ivan Braginski: User Guide and Manual
"Who the hell is that?" He wondered, and flipped through the manual, finding the customer services number printed on the back page. He pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and dialed, listening before hearing an automated voice begin to speak.
"Hello. This is the Customer Services line for the Flying Mint Bunny Corporation. Thank you for calling today. Please listen to all your options before pushing any buttons.
"If your unit is malfunctioning in any way not printed in the manual, press 1. If your unit is in need of identifications, press 2. If your unit is attempting to kill or maim you or any surrounding people, press 3. If your unit came with the incorrect manual, press 4. If your unit did not come with the accessories it was supposed to have, press 5. If you received the wrong unit, press 6. If you ordered a unit and did not receive it, press 7. If you received a unit and did not order it, press 8."
"About fucking time," Andrew said, pressing the 8 button.
"You received a unit that you did not order. In order to direct you to the right operator, we must know which unit you received. Please listen to all choices before continuing. If you received a Feliciano Vargas, press 1. If you received a Yong Soo Im, press 2. If you received a Yao Wang, press 3. If you received an Alfred F. Jones, press 4. If you received an Arthur Kirkland, press 5. If you received a Matthew Williams, press 6. If you received an Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, press 7. If you received either a Francis Bonnefois or a Vash Zwingli, press 8. If you received a Gilbert Beillschmidt or an Ivan Braginski, press 9."
"Jeez, they like to make me pissed," Andrew said, and pushed the nine button.
"You received either a Gilbert Beillschmidt or an Ivan Braginski unit. Push 1 if you received Gilbert Beillschmidt, or 2 if you received-"
Andrew pushed two.
"You received an Ivan Braginski unit you did not order. Before we direct you to an operator, we advise that you make sure your Ivan Braginski unit has not woken up during this process, as if he has, we cannot take him back. Please wait shortly, as you are being directed to an operator."
Cheesy wait music played through the speaker of the phone, and Andrew quickly put his ear up to the box. Hearing nothing, he figured that the unit hadn't woken up yet.
"Hello? I'm Kris, your operator to help with your issue of receiving an Ivan Braginski unit you did not order?"
"Yeah," Andrew said, taking a few steps away from the box so as to not wake the thing inside. He had a growing feeling that those chains weren't just for show. "Apparently the thing was supposed to go to an Andrea Chen, and I'm Andrew. I'm not a girl."
"I can tell from your voice," Kris chuckled, and Andrew rolled his eyes.
"Whatever. I just want the thing gone before my parents get home. They're hung over everything else I've done in my lifetime anyways, and I don't want to add this to it."
"Of course. As long as Mr. Braginski doesn't wake up, you should be fine. Oh, and I would advise watching the box or checking on it every so often until it gets picked up. There have been incidents where a Natalya Arlovskaya unit has found an unopened Ivan Braginski unit and woken him up, so do be careful with him. I'll be sure to get a delivery person to come and pick up the unit. Just make sure he doesn't wake up. Then he's your problem."
"I get it," Andrew huffed, slightly annoyed. "Don't wake him up, and don't let a Natalya unit near him. Simple enough. How long until someone gets him?"
"Anywhere between three and ten hours," Kris said cheerily. "Thank you for your patronage." The line went dead, and Andrew huffed in annoyance.
"This is just fucking great. I might as well wake him up."
Andrew sat on the front porch, though, and dug out his homework, deciding to get it over with as soon as possible.
Andrew heard the girl before he saw her. She kept muttering about getting her brother to marry her and become one, and he glanced up to see a girl with long platinum blond hair standing about twenty feet away, watching the box intensely. She had a white bow in her hair and a long sleeved, royal purple dress on, and had a murderous gleam in her purple eyes.
"Who the hell is that?" He wondered, and his question was quickly answered when the girl dashed towards the box on his front porch, yelling at the top of her lungs,
"BROTHER! WE SHALL BECOME ONE!"
Andrew immediately heard crying and whimpering from the box, and he let out a string of curse words that would make a sailor wince.
The Natalya unit began to undo the chains, and Andrew jumped up, tackling her to the ground and away from the box.
"Of course you would find this Ivan Braginski, of all the Ivan Braginskis that exist," He muttered, and the Natalya unit continued to glare, throwing him off of her and going back to undoing the box.
"Brother, once this box is out of the way, we will become one!" She cried, and Andrew was about to attempt to tackle her again when a voice rang out.
"Natalya, leave that poor unit alone!" A girl with the biggest rack Andrew had ever seen and platinum blond bob ran to Natalya and pulled her away from the box. The majority of the chains were scattered around the wooden porch flooring, and Andrew glared at the girl holding back Natalya. Another girl came up to the two, and she was obviously not related to the two of them, having short black hair and brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. She dressed like almost any teenager would-in a pair of jeans, a graphic tee, and converse.
"Natalya, I told you not to run off!" The short girl scolded, and Andrew watched them bicker for a moment before speaking.
"Who are you?" He asked.
The dark haired girl looked at him. "Sorry about that. My name's Andrea Chang, and these two are my units, Yekaterina and Natalya. I was expecting an Ivan unit today, and Natalya got a little too excited here."
"YOU!" Andrew snapped. "You're the reason I got this unit! You ordered it and showed up on my doorstep! Take it!"
Andrea looked at him before looking at the two units who were watching them.
"This is an Ivan Braginski unit?" She asked.
"Yeah, and I have no intention to keep a unit that was meant for you."
"But you signed for it, right?" She asked.
"So?"
"The you have to take it," She said. "Natalya, you can open the box, though."
Yekaterina released her sister, who tore into the chains and had the box opened in seconds, clinging onto the terrified form of Ivan Braginski.
"Belarus, GO HOME!" He cried, shoved her away, and ran behind Andrew and hid, clinging onto him in case he needed a human shield.
"He seems to want to stay with you anyways," Andrea said. "And who are we to deny him that?"
Andrew stared at the trembling form behind him.
"You're kidding me."
"Well, complain all you want, but he's yours. I'll be taking my leave now. Yekaterina, make sure Natalya doesn't stay here." Andrea left the porch, before turning around to say one last thing.
"If you have any questions, I'm the resident Hetalia obsessionist around here, so you can ask me. And also, you'll be getting more units in the near future, I think. Good luck." She turned and left, Yekaterina dragging Natalya along as they followed.
Once the three were gone, Andrew felt a rather intimidating aura behind him. He turned to face Ivan, who stood at his full six feet two inches tall. The Russian had a rather creepy smile on his face, and he stared down at the five foot seven Asian.
"Privet, comrade," He said. "My name is Ivan Braginski."
Andrew nodded. "Andrew Chen." He had a long night ahead of him, and he was not looking forward to it.