First off, thank you to all reviews to left me something for the prologue, even if it was a bit boring. Most of tKihe people just threw me on story alert, but at least that was enough to let me know people wanted to read.

Now, moving on...

To clear up some confusion, Arthur, Kiku, and Yao are the top three ranking students in Hetalia academy. Their scores differ by very little, and the top three ranks change so often (meaning one gets an 'A' the other two get an 'A-' somewhere) that they're just seen as the "top three" and none of them hold an actual stop of 1,2, 3 ranking.

Really though, for the most part, the school doesn't hold a major part in the story (not really) so there isn't much to say.

Um... OH.

I don't own Hetalia, obviously. I could never create something as awesome as Prussia. I know. I've tried... it failed.

Ah, well. Enjoy~

Chapter One

The house was completely empty, just how Gilbert liked it. While the albino usually enjoyed the company of his brother and their group of unique and somewhat quirky friends, he, like his brother, took a decent amount of pleasure in his 'alone time'.

As it was, Ludwig had left to go meet Feliciano somewhere downtown, shooting a hesitant glance back at his older brother and forcing the albino to make a quick promise that the he 'wouldn't break anything' while he was gone. Gilbert had sent his little brother out the front door with a small shove and a muttered reassurance that he wasn't that destructive, and gave him a would-be comforting grin that could have been convincing had he not looked ready to burst into manic laughter the moment his younger sibling turned away.

Making his way slowly up the stairs to the second floor, Gilbert paused, glancing over his shoulder, only sighing in relief when he saw nothing following him. He had just filled the dog's food dishes to the brim with food (something he knew very well that Ludwig hated—halfway in the morning was enough, and half at night) in hopes of distracting them while he ran his room. He had nothing against the dogs; in fact, he rather liked them. When his brother was away, he would spend his time rough-housing with them and allowing them to break every rule the blond ever set (most of which consisted of luring them up onto Ludwig's bed.)

As the albino entered his own personal living space, he shut the door behind him, carefully glancing around the room as if expecting someone to suddenly pop out and attempt to catch him in the act of whatever it was that he was doing. He sighed softly in relief when silence and still movement was all that greeted him, and made his way across the room, over to the closet. Opening it, he paused, the doorknob still gripped tightly in his hand, and glanced around. Nothing. He snorted and shook his head, grabbing a long black case from the inside and leaving the room before muttering to himself that he was being paranoid.

Sometime shortly after Ludwig left, Gilbert found himself in a distressful situation. He was bored. Very bored, and he knew if he followed the younger German out of the house, while he'd be entertained, he'd likely ruin Ludwig's chances of 'invading Feliciano's vital regions.' The promise of being able to tease them both once it happened was far more tempting than that of getting to stalk them for a day. That, and, like most people, he was getting tired of their game of 'hard to get', and he was seriously considering the option of locking them both in a closet and not letting them out until they decided to 'be honest'. Thus, in order to rid himself of boredom, Gilbert decided to be productive today.

The wonderful thing about an empty house was that it allowed one to drop their normal character and do whatever they pleased until someone returned home. He could open the fridge and leave it open until the moment just before Ludwig opened the door; he could turn up the air conditioner and turn the house into an icebox (not that he would, the last thing he needed was giving their Russian neighbor a reason to come over.) Hell, he could have walked around naked if he so pleased, but this idea was quickly dismissed, with the reasoning of it being pointless to show off your body when no one was around to compliment on how awesome it was. But most importantly, there was no one there to tease him for what he was planning to do.

Gilbert entered the weight room that was down the hall from his room on the second floor of their house. He left the door open behind him and quickly crossed the plush carpet to the sliding window and opened it. A fresh wave of cool air washed over his pale skin and the albino sighed softly in content. He loved to cause havoc and chaos, but even he held a small fondness for the simplest of pleasures (not that he'd admit that to just anyone.)

Swinging one of his legs over the window frame, Gilbert carefully hoisted himself through the window and out into the roof, leaning in backward to grab the black case he'd been carrying before slipping back out. He took a set just a few feet away from the window and stretched before sitting down, running a hand through his short silver-white hair.

Another cool breeze washed over him and he shivered, pulling the fabric of his red hooded-jacket closet. He was in a pair of black jeans, black lace-up boots that stopped just shy of his knees, a long-sleeved black shirt, and the deep crimson hoodie that complimented his eyes nicely. Around his neck was his ever-present necklace, the black German cross, outlined in white glimmering faintly in the mid-morning sunlight.

"It's cold…" he murmured, undoing the clasps that held the black case shut. Cold as it was, the jacket would be enough to keep him warm, and he didn't bother zipping it. He hated feeling restricted. It was bad enough that a certain brunette would constantly berate him for not dressing warmly enough in winter. If he was going to be held down for one season, he'd be damned if he got stuck like that for any of the other three.

The top of the case was flipped back, and the inside was revealed to be made of plush back velvet, several straps running from one side to the other, holding an elegant and very high-class, well kept violin inside. Gilbert smiled faintly, running a hand along the glossy body, his fingers stopping at each strap to carefully undo it before moving on to the next.

He lifted the instrument up and out of the case, taking the bow in his free hand, looking it up and down before nodding in silent satisfaction and taking a proper playing position, his chin fitting perfectly into the rest, as if the design had been custom made just for him. His hand shifted upward, slowly pulling the bow across the strings several times in practice, making sure that the instrument was as tuned a he left it the last time. The notes came out as desired and he lowered it, staring at the instrument in sorrow, his gazed fixed on the lower right corner, where the words, "Happy birthday, Gilbert" were carefully etched into the glossy surface in neat, calligraphic-like writing.

The violin had been a gift from Roderich almost five years ago, given to him during their first year of high school. He'd taken it with a smirk and claim that it was a lame gift, and something that Roderich himself would enjoy more than he would, but kept it regardless. Later that night, he'd been scolded by Ludwig for "being an ass" and told to apologize to the Austrian the next day (which he didn't.)

However, after stumbling upon the brunette playing the same instrument in the high school's music room, Gilbert found himself digging the instrument out of his closet and sitting on his bed for several hours, simply staring at it. What had moved him to do so, the albino couldn't figure out for the life of him, but somehow he moved from simply staring to attempting to figure out how to properly hold it. By the end of the night, he'd figured out several (very simple) five-note songs and made a note to return to the music room the next day to study Roderich again and figure out just how the hell to play the damned thing.

Which lead to Gilbert where he was now. Sitting on his roof, staring at the same violin he'd vowed never to touch again, let alone learn to use. Taking position again, crimson eyes fluttered shut as he lowered the bow back to the strings, pausing for only a moment to pick one of the many songs he'd long-since memorized before beginning to play.

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It was supposed to be a simple task, really. Nothing more than a simple trip to the house and a quick down the road. Earlier that morning, Roderich had received a call from Ludwig, asking him to walk to his house and check on the dogs, letting them out to use the bathroom and perhaps take a short walk to the park and back home. The brunette had agreed without much thought. After all, Ludwig wasn't the type to ask for help unless he really needed it, and his requests were usually very simple. Roderich had watched the dogs once before when the two German brothers had gone on vacation, but that had been ages ago, and it wasn't until he'd hung up that the Austrian realized with a sudden feeling of dread that Ludwig hadn't said anything about Gilbert, and the brunette hadn't bothered to ask why Ludwig hadn't asked the albino to do it.

"…Why did I agree to this again?" Roderich asked himself quietly, staring at the house before him. Silence was his only answer, and the brunette scolded himself silently for expecting one. His gaze was fixed on the dark blue door before him, the faint sound of paws against tile flooring audible through the door.

I should have politely declined… the brunette thought dully as he stepped forward, hesitantly testing the door handle, which, to his dread, was unlocked. I suppose the excuse of not being able to get inside is useless, at his point. With a small sigh and attempt at self-reassurance that "nothing could possibly go wrong", Roderich opened the door and stepped inside, causing the scuttling to cease immediately.

The first thing the Austrian noticed as he shut the back door behind him was that he was in the kitchen. He'd never used the back door before, and he wasn't used to entering the house from anywhere but the front. Thinking about it, he'd been over to the brother's house before many times, but he rarely spent enough time in the kitchen to get a good look at it. Now, finally having the momentary chance to do so, it unnerved him a bit. Ludwig had never struck the brunette as the messy type, but he found the unnaturally clean condition of the kitchen bothersome. After all, Gilbert lived in his house as well, and Roderich knew the albino had never been the most motivated person when it came to housekeeping.

Alas, Roderich's admiration for the kitchen was short lived as he took a step further inside and immediately had the wind knock from him as he hit the floor with an undignified crash. Several small fuzzy faces obscured his vision and three different tongues attempted to moisten every part of skin that wasn't under clothing. The Austrian flailed uselessly under the dogs, trying to push the two closest to him away so that he might sit up. His attempts failed, as the largest of the dogs, a husky that looked as if it had more wolf in it than domestic dog, draped itself across his chest with a muffled 'woof', and gave Roderich what the brunette could have sworn was a smirk that was far to Gilbert-like for his liking.

That must be Adler… the Austrian thought with a small frown. Ludwig mentioned on the phone that Gilbert had gotten a dog of his own recently, and of course, he had to get the closest thing to a wild animal legally possible.

"Off!" he ordered sharply, earning nothing more than a tilt of the head from the husky. "It's very nice to see you, too, pooches. But get off me—guagh!"

Opening his mouth, as it was, turned out to be a very poor idea, as the other two small dogs had let to stop finding undue entertainment in licking his face and something wet entered his mouth, nearly making him gag. The shock, however, worked in his favor as Roderich managed to shove Adler off his lap and scramble to his feet, using the kitchen counter for support as a he covered his mouth with a slender hand, fighting the urge to begin spitting on the spot.

That was horrid… he whimpered silently, quickly moving to the sink, not bothering to hunt for a glass as he turned on the tap and washed his mouth with several handfuls of water.

"'Walk the dogs,' Ludwig says…" Austria began bitterly. "'It'll be fun!' he said, 'and it'll get you out of the house.'" He rolled his eyes, reaching for a nearby towel and dried his hands, dabbing his mouth to remove and extra water before tossing it back to the counter. Honestly, I will never understand everyone's fixation with making sure that I get out of the house. It isn't as if I lock myself indoors all the time.

Grimacing, Roderich gave the dogs a look of indifference, then made his way around the kitchen slowly, frowning as it dawned on him he didn't have the slightest idea where the dog leashes were (or plastic bags, for that matter, but the Austrian hoped to avoid this thought until it was absolutely essential.) As the leashes were obviously not in the kitchen near the door, which frustrated Roderich a great deal, seeing as there were hooks near the door and they made a fairly logical location for such an object, he made his way into the hallway, intent on checking Ludwig's study and the hall closet on the way.

"You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you?" Roderich glanced down at Adler, who'd followed him from the kitchen and down the hall. The dog merely barked quietly in response, the look in its red eyes was amused, and the brunette took note of just how red they were, and the snowy colour of its fur. "Albino and out to get me," he muttered. "Just like your master. That's quite…" A sudden noise cut his words off, and the Austrian froze, his eyes wide.

Violet eyes carefully scanned the surrounding area, as if expecting persons of unknown origins to suddenly pop up. When nothing moved, he scolded himself for being silly and turned the corner at the end of the hallway, blinking as he stared at a set of stairs, the noise he heard earlier suddenly becoming clearer.

"Music…?" He blinked, confused. It was music, of that he was sure. He strained his hearing and leaned forward, an eyebrow quirking upward as he was able to label the instrument. A violin... He frowned, making his way down the hall and toward the stairs, suddenly feeling very irritable. So Ludwig was home, and, if he was home, why on earth had he asked Roderich to take care of his dogs for the day? Perhaps his plans had been canceled?

As Roderich reached the landing halfway up the stairs, he paused, taking a moment to listen to the soft music drifting to him from somewhere upstairs. The notes came in a rush, one immediately following after in a complex and quick melody the Austrian had heard only a few weeks ago when his instructor had asked him to play the very song in order to show off his talents beyond the piano off to a couple of instructors who'd come to visit the academy.

"The Devil's Trill…?" The name escaped his thoughts aloud without Roderich noticing, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. The piece was, of course, beautiful, but extremely difficult to play. The brunette found himself wondering up the stairs in a trance-like state, bewildered at just how well the melody was being played. It was flawless. Perfect. Even he had made one or two mistakes in playing a note too high or too low when he would attempt it, but this… I didn't know he still played…

In Hetalia's middle school, a music course had been required for all three years. Students were allowed to choose from band, orchestra, or choir as broad course, and from there, they were divided by level of talent, instrument choice, and in the case of choir, vocal range. Roderich had been whisked into the orchestral division for his seemingly god-given talent with both the piano and various string instruments. Ludwig, like himself, had joined the orchestra as well, opting to play the violin as well, though he was in one of the middle-level groups, where Roderich was among the few elite.

Gilbert, much to Austria's surprise, had taken the band route, choosing to play flute—which he'd never quite been able to wrap his mind around. Still, the albino had been talented, but that was a given. Despite his laziness, the albino had a knack for mastering almost anything he tried—and being a natural born genius only helped. He'd quickly scaled the band ranks and reached the top playing the elegant woodwind, but dropped it as soon as high school started, claiming it was nothing more than an annoyance and he was too "awesome" for it. The choice had frustrated Roderich greatly, and he often wonder if, should be put a little bit of genuine effort into it, Gilbert would be able to steal the rank of top student in the school.

As he entered the training room that he'd tracked as the music's source, he pulled a face. The machines in there were completely barbaric, and set to weight levels that the brunette wouldn't dare dream of attempting to lift. The machines were of varying elements, and positioned on the two sides of the room. Those based for training the lower body on the left, and the upper body on the right. Several dumbbells were scattered across the floor, off the weight tree positioned in the corner of the room, and Roderich scoffed. Gilbert had obviously been in here.

The faint smell of sweat washed over his senses, and he closed his eyes, breathing through his mouth as he allowed the, now much louder, music to sweep over him. The song itself didn't seem the sort of thing Ludwig might have played, but Roderich didn't complain as he found himself moving forward, toward the open window. Why on the roof…? He mused, waiting for the song to finish before he opened his eyes again, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Bizarre location or not, it had been lovely, and, his annoyance with the German for being home forgotten, he leaned out the window, looking for the musician. "That was lovely, Ludwig. I'd thought you ceased playing, but that was simply perfect. I don't think I've ever heard anyone play the song better. I—Gilbert!?"

Said albino jerked around from his position sitting on the roof, eyes wide, making it obvious he'd had no idea Roderich was coming.

Gilbert cursed silently, quickly lowering the violin from his chin and placing it back in its case. Of all the people who could have stumbled upon him playing, it just had to be the very person who'd given it to him. Even Elizabeta would have been better than him, at least she would have just used it as blackmail or something. But for it to be Roderich… he'd never hear the end of it now.

"What the hell are you doing here, four-eyes!? You-!" Gilbert trailed off, watching as Roderich stumbled backward and back into the room beyond the window. He frowned and leaned over, peering back inside just in time to see the brunette trip over one of the dumbbells he'd neglected to put away that morning, and land unceremoniously on his back with a winded yelp of pain.

Groaning quietly, the brunette musician shut his eyes tightly, willing the dancing spots of colors in front of his eyes to go away and the room to stop spinning and become still again. He shoved the weight he'd tripped over feebly with his foot, wincing as the weight moved not more than an inch and simply added a dull throbbing in his foot to join the one in his head. This is one of the many reasons exercise should be seen as something bad for you…