Ludwig had always been a hard working individual, and prided himself on his work. His determination had led him to the top of his current career and he could proudly state he was a spy for his nation, based in America.
He had solved many cases in his office, looking over evidence and analysing the cold hard facts and then promptly explaining the crime, where it was and who had done it. His superiors were absolutely fascinated with his intellect; so this is what led him to his current position.
He was going to complete his first hands-on mission.
But he had not expected to be standing outside a high-school, a teacher's name badge on his jacket and a briefcase full of textbooks. His azure eyes narrowed at the scene of busy teenagers bustling in and out of the buildings, occasionally bumping into him which sent his face turning to a frown.
His strides were long and confident, but waves of apprehension still shook through his body. His high-school memories were not pleasant, and he didn't particularly wish to be reminded of the cruel events of bullying that had been directed towards him for so long.
He strolled formally yet with a casual air towards the reception desk, and rang the bell once and waited patiently for the receptionist to arrive. He took the opportunity to glance around and analyse the surroundings. The broken and chipped tiles betrayed the low budget and the graffiti covered walls reflected the mischief the students must get into. He sighed; why couldn't a bomb plot be directed to a private school? What did terrorists want with this school anyway?
The receptionist finally arrived, a cheeky grin plastered on a slight tanned face, his eyes green and alight with un-natural happiness for a worker at a high-school.
"Hola, senor! Is there anything I can assist you with?"
Ludwig mentally noted the man was Spanish, or atleast from that origin. No immediate suspicion. "Ah, yes, I'm the new history teacher."
"Ah, why of course! Just sign here," he trilled, pushing sign-in book towards him.
Ludwig scrawled his name quickly on the paper. He was using his original first name but switching his last name for the mission, yet the prospect still made his palms sweat. If they found out his name and hacked the agent network…
…it was safe to assume he was done for.
"Are you okay?" The Spanish man asked, his eyebrow raised a little in concern. "You're looking a little pale there."
"I'm fine," Ludwig answered, looking at the receptionist's name badge in order to be polite. "But thank-you for your concern, Antonio."
"No problem!" He chimed, the grin spreading across his lips again. "Have a nice day!"
As Ludwig went to leave, a breathless teenager burst in the doorway of the entrance, blinding and swearing like a sailor. Ludwig looked around; another frown settling on his face as the teenager stomped over, slamming his hand on the bell repeatedly. It was apparent to Ludwig that Antonio had gone back around to the other end of the office.
"Get here, you asshole!" The teenager yelled angrily, slamming his fist more viciously on the bell. "I have to sign in late and I have a football tournament!"
Antonio popped up from behind the desk, shouting a loud "boo!" to which the teenager yelled in response, jumping with fear and then striking a fist out infront of him instinctively. Antonio seemed to think quick and dodged his head to the side, laughing wildly.
"Not funny you absolute, stupid idiotic ba—"
"Okay, okay, sorry Lovino," Antonio grinned, wiping a tear of amusement from the corner of his emerald eyes. "I had to. Could not resist."
"Hilarious," the teenager drawled sarcastically. "Just let me sign in."
"Alright. What's your reason for being late?"
"What is it every morning?"
"Well you either miss the bus or argue with your sister and walk instead or decide to "jog" to school to be healthy but get out of breathe easily or—"
"Shut up!" Lovino yelled, hastily drawling his name on the paper on the clipboard before yanking his bag back over his shoulder. "I'm going. Bye."
Antonio gave a soft chuckle. "Adios!"
Ludwig watched in bemusement as Lovino strolled towards the doors he was stood in. He waited for him to pass before tapping him on the shoulder gently. The teenager turned, an eyebrow rising nearly to his forehead before Ludwig cleared his throat.
"Sorry to bother you, but do you know where the history block is?" Ludwig inquired.
Lovino gave an annoyed sigh, rolling his eyes and pointing to the east. Ludwig looked without approval at the teenager due to his attitude but muttered hurried thanks and briskly walked in that direction. He hoped the apparent-delinquent teenager hadn't pointed him in the wrong direction, but his instincts seemed to approve of the course.
He arrived a few minutes before his first class arrived, and he felt his palms sweat; the nervousness he felt in high-school was returning by merely being in a classroom environment. The bell rang, and it sent shivers down his spine as he set up the interactive whiteboard and loaded the presentation. A tall-ish senior student with a white scarf wrapped around his neck walked in first, his footsteps slow yet precise. He opted for a seat at the back and sat down, taking out his equipment without fuss or speech. Ludwig felt a little un-nerved, and gave a nervous cough before the rest of the students arrived. Among them were a loud-mouthed stereotypical American, a British student with remarkably large eyebrows, a tanned girl with pigtails and a blue dress and a quiet Canadian boy who people kept bumping into as if they didn't notice him.
Halfway through the lesson, notably about the Second World War, the American stood up on his desk and proudly proclaimed "We're the heroes!"
It took a thrown half-finished mug of tea from the British student and a lecture from Ludwig to convince him to step down, covered in Earl Grey. The American, who Ludwig learned to be named Alfred, did not seem to at all mind the liquid that coated his coat and instead gave a loud laugh.
"You're going to have to clean it up, Artie!" Alfred yelled, patting the enraged Briton on the back with a sheer amount of force, nearly knocking him from his seat.
"Why the bloody hell should I clean it up?" 'Artie' retorted. "And it's Arthur, not Artie. That's a childish nickname and I shall not condone it."
"What's with the big words, Artie?" Alfred cried, looking mildly confused. "You talk like that as if you expect me to understand!"
"I hate you," Arthur mumbled under his breath. "Pay attention to the damn lesson, yank."
"Alright, alright," Alfred said in a soothing voice.
"Are you quite finished?" Ludwig asked, his temper rising. How the hell his superiors expected him to last long here he did not know.
The lesson continued with less disruptions, although often Arthur would snipe remarks towards Alfred who would laugh them away casually. The quiet Canadian boy was exceptional at the subject, and Ludwig felt a pang of sympathy for him. Although he did not seem to be bullied, the opposite was playing into effect for the boy. His peers seemed to ignore him, or just not notice him.
The school bell finally rang, and the class filed out with extreme hurry. Arthur lagged behind a little as he continued to organize his files and Alfred decided to stay with him, much to both the Briton's and Ludwig's dismay. After they'd filed out, Ludwig checked his schedule and saw a free period. He was not one to complain, and so he lounged in his office chair after making himself a coffee at the staff room. All was quiet, until halfway through the period.
"E-Excuse me," Came a quiet voice from the door after a gentle knock, and Ludwig peered over, raising an eyebrow.
"Come in," he said, placing his coffee mug on the desk and sitting proper.
A young looking woman entered the room, pushing open the door softly. She looked to be around twenty-one years old, and her big amber eyes scanned the room until they found him.
"Sorry to bother you," she chirped, tip-toeing into the room. "I just wondered whether or not you'd be okay to have me work with you for today."
"Oh?" Ludwig inquired, looking at her with interest. "Why is that?"
"I'm a trainee here at the school. I was told to assist a teacher for a period of time. All the other tecahers seem to be busy and I heard you were new. Would you like a helping hand?"
Ludwig pondered this. She could be a good ally to have. She would help organise the issues and work school faced him with while he could send reports to his real job. Excellent.
"That would be wonderful, thank-you," he spoke, lifting the mug to his lips and taking a delicate sip. "What's your name? I don't wish to be rude."
"You're not being rude," she assured, sitting at a desk in the class and rummaging through her bag, a smile flitting on her lips. "I'm Felicia. Felicia Vargas. You are Mister Beilschmidt, correct?"
"Yes," he affirmed, shuffling some papers in line ready for the next lesson. "That is right."
"Am I alright to assume you have a Germanic heritage, sir?" She asked, before blushing after the question. Ludwig could sense she didn't want to pry, but she was a curious person. Very interesting.
"You assume correctly, Miss Vargas," he confirmed with a nod, before turning to her. "'Miss' is correct, yes? I do not wish to be ignorant to your title."
"Oh," Felicia giggled, taking a purse from her bag and totalling up the amount of money she had. "It is correct! I'm not married or anything."
"That's good," he said with a nod, before realizing what he had just said. "Ah, I didn't mean—"
"It's okay, Mister Beilschmidt," Felicia said, a hint of amusement in her tone. "I know what you meant. You are very gentlemanly."
Ludiwg was about to answer before the school bell drowned out any words he stumbled out. He was quite grateful, as it had saved him from further humiliation.
A/N: H-Hey guys... heheheh... I took a short holiday... yeahh... *Rolls away*
I will update Memories Made of Petals as soon as possible, sorry!
And We Band Together... I honestly have no idea whether to continue it or not...so yeah...
Enjoy this new fic guys! I'm writing it as part of my Writing Portfolio for AS level (I'm advancing because my teachers see potential ;A; )
-Ella