AN: This chapter is special and therefor will be having two author's notes (for Author's Note the sequel please finish the story) I would like to formally introduce myself to this site, my name is Clover. This is the first time I've ever posted on this site, and really the first Hetalia thing I've ever written. Oh and I would like to be clear, they are not countries, merely high school students. Oh (again) and no shit, I don't own Hetalia.

"FELICIANO YOU BASTARD!" Lovino screamed with the paper still in his hand. He heard his brother run into the kitchen. Lovino sat at the table with the ripped envelope on the table and his hands a soon to be torn up acceptance letter. "What did you do?"

"What do you mean?" The younger one asked, looking at his brother's furious face. He wanted to run out of the room when his eyes saw the envelope.

"What the fuck is the World Academy? And why are we both accepted into it?"

"It's the school Feliks goes to..." Felipe began.

"Not us," The older one said, slamming his hands on the table.

"Si! We've been accepted into it! Please let me finish!" Lovino wanted to hear no more, but remained quiet. "Grazi, now I was talking to Feliks and he was telling me how his school had no Italians..."

"Why would his school have Italians? You're still not telling me what this is," Lovino cut it.

"Fine, let me start from the beginning. The World Academy is a school that has kids from every different country, it's very difficult to get in. They only let in one student from each country in a grade, and Feliks said they were no Italians at all so I figured I would enroll us,"

"And you did so without asking me first?" Lovino was not convinced. Of course only Americans would be so dumb to try and get people from every country to come together and start World War III.

"I didn't know we'd get accepted! I was going to tell you if we got in," Felipe defended. Lovino rolled his eyes, picking up the envelope which contained a brochure trying to make the school look wonderful. He couldn't help but to roll his eyes again.

"Does our grandfather know of this?" He asked his brother, already knowing the answer.

"Si, he helped me apply, he likes the idea of it," Felipe told him, "please consider it, Fratello. I wouldn't want to go without you."

"How did they accept me anyway? I have horrible grades,"

"Well... they saw nonno's income..."

"Of course the bastard bribed him, I don't want to transfer though! I like my school now," Of course he was lying, he hated his school and hoped every day he could get out of it. But he realized in his middle of the night prayers he meant school in general, Lovino saw no purpose in it at all.

"Please Lovino! I want to go to America, and if you hate it that bad we will come home." Felipe was practically begging at this point. Lovino knew there was no point in arguing. The bastard guardian of his would side with him anyway and force him to go.

"Fine, whatever Felipe," he replied putting his head on the table.

"Yay! I'm going to call Feliks!" Felipe said, running out of the room.

They had never been on a plane before, but Lovino hated it. It was crowded and awkwardly quiet, plus he felt like the stereotypical flight hater because of the child behind him kicking his seat. He looked over at his brother, who was so excited to be on a plane had fallen asleep immediately when they took off. The elder brother tried to sleep, but the seat was stiff and almost impossible to situate himself in. He spent the last four hours counting the people who complained about their ears popping.

"Can you not sleep?" He brother asked him, eyes half open.

"No, I hate this plane," Lovino told him, cracking his knuckles for the ninth time that hour.

"We'll be there soon, why don't you try to sleep?"

"Soon if you mean another three hours," he mumbled. The Italian man wanted to sleep, he had tried damn near forty times, and although he wouldn't admit it, he was somewhat excited about traveling to the school. Felipe shrugged his shoulders and fell back asleep. Lovino closed his eyes again and didn't open them until they landed.

The two took a car from the airport to the Academy. It was located somewhere in New York, but New York City, which is the only place geographically they knew of about America. The time change and lack of sleep on the plane made both of them tired, making the car ride short because of them falling in and out of sleep. It was night time there, and all Lovino wanted to do when he got there was fall asleep. When they arrived he had expected for him and his brother to be escorted to the same room, instead he was handed a paper with a room number labled 211, while his brother's was 208.

"What the fuck is this?" He whispered to Felipe while the residence women continued on with her paper work.

"They're putting us with people geographically close," Felipe responded. He was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

"What's fucking geographically closer than Italy!" The woman had tuned in by that point, noticing Lovino's angered face.

"I"m sorry but we do it to make everything more culturally diverse," Lovino rolled his eyes. He looked down at the paper again, seeing the name of his roommate, Herkules Karpusi, from Greece. He wanted to drive the car all the way back to the airport.

"Where's your roommate from fratello?" his brother asked him, eyes wide with a stupid grin on his face.

"Greece,"

"Oh, mine's from Germany,"

"Don't let him touch you," Lovino told him, suddenly worried for his brother. At that point a brown haired man with green eyes and a stupid smile came up to the two Italians.

"Hello, my name is Antonio I was going to help show you to the rooms," his accent was Hispanic. Lovino guessed from his pale skin he was from Spain rather than Latin America. He realized he couldn't stop looking at the man.

"I'm Felipe and this is my brother Lovino," his younger sibling said, snapping Lovino out of staring.

"We can find them ourselves," he told him, turning to walk away.

"Oh but don't you want help carrying your stuff?" before Lovino could rudely decline Felipe replied for them.

"That'd be great!" he said smiling. The Spanish man escorted the two to the elevator, Lovino was behind him, staring at his butt the entire time.

Toris walked down the hall alone to his new room. He wasn't used to the heat and was sweating in his coat. It had seemed from his traveling that he had the farthest room from anything in the school. It felt like he had been walking for half an hour just to find room 413. He wondered if his new roommate had arrived to the school already, or if he had been anything like his last roommate. Toris wouldn't have minded a roommate like Feliks, he wouldn't have to get used to a new personality, and he sometimes liked hearing all the gossip of the school. The information of his room included where his new roommate was from, Russia. Toris was indifferent about the country, he'd never been there but he knew a bit of Russian.

Finally he entered the room, still unsure on whether or not the room was even really attatched to the school. The lights were on and a husky man with blond hair was sitting on the bed, reading a book. He looked up and smiled.

"Hello," he greeted Toris, his accent was this, as expected. Toris didn't think he was going to be anything like Feliks. He looked much more secluded, something the Lithuanian could relate to. The brunette smiled back.

"Hi, I'm Toris," he said, standing in front of the doorway.

"I'm Ivan, I haven't seen you here before, did you go here last year?" Toris nodded while he put his luggage on his bed.

"I haven't seen you before either, but my roommate last year was Feliks," the smaller man told him while beginning to unpack.

"Oh I know him," he said smiling. "So you come from Lithuania?"

"Yes, and you're Russian, right?" Toris asked, the man nodded.

"I'm still trying to get used to the heat here," Ivan chuckled.

"Me, too haha, I don't have a lot of summer clothes,"

"Neither do I, but it gets cold here in winter so that's good," Toris liked his voice, it was deep and his accent was thick but easy to understand despite the man's somewhat broken English. He put most of his clothes into the drawers at the front of the room and sat on the bed. The Russian had bent down over the bed, grabbing something from the opposite side. He pulled up to a vodka bottle.

"Want a drink?" Toris declined.

"I don't drink," The Russian shrugged, going back to the place where he retrieved the bottle to get a shot glass. While the Lithuanian was watching the man gulp down the pure alcohol with no chaser, there was a knock on the door. Thankful for the interruption, Toris practically ran to the door. Feliks stood outside wearing a pink sweater and what was probably designer jeans. The smile on his face went from ear to ear and he grabbed Toris into a hug.

"I MISSED YOU!" The Polish man squealed into his friend's ear.

"How did you find my room?" the Lithuanian asked, pulling them apart.

"You doubt me not to know everyone's room by now?" He asked, Toris laughed, realizing how much he missed his somewhat intrusive friend. "Anyway, huge party in Francis' dorm and you're invited!" Feliks grabbed Toris by the hand pulling him down the hall.

"You're going out?" Ivan asked from inside the room, Toris didn't know what to say, so as usual Feliks talked for him.

"He's going to a party in Francis' dorm, you can come by the way... Ivan," Feliks eyed the Russian up and down, giving a look Toris had never seen before. He couldn't analyze it further however, because Ivan declined.

"I'm fine, thank you though Feliks," his voice held a different tone than when the two were getting aquainted earlier. Feliks seemed to jump back suddenly and grabbed Toris' hand dragging him down the hall.

AN(the sequel): Thank you for reading thus far. I've seen a few of these themed storries on this site in the brief week I've been on and it inspired me to actually write one of my own. So thanks to all of the authors who have inspired me. Review, if you so choose. And thanks a ton for reading. I will update as frequently as I feel the need.