A/N: Wow, umm... All I can say is that I'm sorry, I hate writer's block, and time is gone. Agghhhh! This chapter, you can say, is part one of [insert number here], but writing this is fun and cool! I've had a great time so far with this, and I hope to write more! Thank you so much for all of the stuff you guys do, even just reading this is amazing! Let's translate! fratellone = big brother, Mon magnifique = my magnificent (?) Yeah, don't trust my translations... HERE YOU GO, CHAPTER 4. (I don't own Hetalia, birdies!)

WARNING: "get on with it!" moments, things seem to draaaaag out, and just blah writing in general. (4:48 in the morning here for god's sake! You're welcome.)

Recap: Shit. Fuck. Son of a-

(~)

BITCH! Lovino was randomly hug-tackled out of nowhere by Feliciano, who wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Ve~ How are you fratellone? I was talking to Ludwig about you~!"

"Damnit, Feli! The fucking potato already hates me, why were you even mentioning me?!"

"Loviiiiiiiii! I was just telling him what happened during the past year and how hard it was for us and- Lovino? Are you okay?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

Lovino's mind had drifted off from Feliciano's one-sided conversation, and to earlier memories.

"Hey, Lovino! Will you help me with these tomatoes? I'll let you be the first one to try them after you do!" Lovino giggled quietly as he went over to his mother, hiding his grin with a scowl.

"Okay mamma, I'm here!" She smiled brightly, arms wide and welcoming. The smile was returned, and he embraced her.

"-VINO! CAN YOU HEAR ME? FRATELLO?!" Lovino blinked and snapped out of his daze.

His mouth went dry when he stared at his brother's concerned face.

"I'm fine, okay? I was just... thinking. Let's go, we're behind." He brushed past him.

"Lovi, wait for me!"

(~)

As the Italian duo was fighting over directions, (Lovino won), the elder had some time to appreciate the art hanging everywhere. Most of them were newer seeming, and some looked like they were the originals. Lovino was getting annoyed and slightly creeped out from their shoes clicking on the floor. It was echoing so loudly...

Somehow, after a few more minutes, they reached the front office, where everyone else seemed to be. There was a table set up, which was for identification of the students, a line already formed lazily behind it. The team of six were gathering them up, or at least, attempting to.

Everyone's reactions were further contributing to his lack of faith in the school full of people he would likely never care for. Despite this, it seemed he didn't have much of a choice. He joined the mess with Feliciano who was trying to talk to the surrounding individuals.

"Hey, you! What's your name? Why aren't you listening to the awesome me?!"

The "potato bastard's brother", or just Gilbert, was bothering the Italian.

"Leave me the fuck alone, asshole!" Lovino grumbled.

"That's a great name you have there. I almost feel sorry for you," Gilbert mocked. Lovino rolled his eyes at his stupidity. Asshole confirmed."No, but seriously. I need to know your name in case you're in my group of pure awesomeness!"

Awesomeness, he says. "Lovino Vargas, alright? Now leave me alone!" Gilbert smirked.

"See now, that wasn't that hard was it? I think you're with Francis, but I'll check it just to be sure. You're welcome!"

Lovino looked at them all. From what he saw, Francis was shamelessly flirting with Bella who seemed embarrassed above all. Gilbert then decided at that moment to mess up the Frenchman's hair who freaked out.

"Mon magnifique hair! It's ruined! " He cried out.

"Oh, belt up, frog!"

"Artie, clam down!"

"Kesesesesese!"

Oh my fucking god! Do these people even know how to speak without arguing? Did none of them go to kindergarten? Even the potato bastard looks pissed! Though, that's pretty much his normal expression. Oops.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" Ludwig yelled, wanting to move on. They all actually listened (for once), and stared at him completely stunned. The German had calmed down slightly from his frustrated demeanor. How the fuck can they call this a welcome?! A welcome to a never ending presence of stress?! I already have that thanks, you immature dick heads are making it worse.

"Since you obviously can't handle all of this, I'm going to. Let's cooperate and move on! And no more interruptions from any of you!" Ludwig proceeded to single-handedly sort everyone into the right groups, and they finally began the long awaited tour.

(~)

Lovino wound up getting stuck with the French bastard which was unfortunate, but he supposed that it was better than being with the tomato bastard. Yikes.

"Right this way, mis amis!"

The halls got longer when they turned the corners, and Lovino wished that his brothers were in the same group as him; they were ironically with Antonio. He stayed at the back of the group (there were only three others, anyways) and followed them into what was probably a classroom.

"This," Francis gestured to the room. "Is the 'study room', where everyone goes to do studying, or to throw parties if you're in that crowd. I'd recommend it for a place to relax, too."

There were five people sitting down at different tables, with papers scattered about and opened books. They didn't pay attention to them as the group walked in and out. Lovino was bored out of his mind already, and that was only the first room.

They traveled onward, occasionally stopping at more rooms and such in which they might be in their future school careers. Lovino liked the art room the best (no surprise there) because of its colorful decor, and how at home it made him feel. At the end of the draining tour, they went to the cafeteria, which was the "least fancy" out of them all. The tables were circular and foldable which were a grayish color. Lovino sprinted to the table farthest from the front, and sat down on one of the navy blue chairs. He banged his head on the table rather loudly, and rested it on his arms. All of this time he didn't notice the people start to file in, and was thinking that even if he was supposed to be with his group, he wouldn't have gone with them.

His group had finished considerably early in comparison to others, who kept arguing the entire time. Feliciano and Marcello had to suffer through thick tension when Antonio and Arthur figured out that they didn't like one another. The brothers had to ignore that part of the otherwise decent exploration of the school.

Antonio POV (~)

Antonio was noticeably relieved when they reached the cafeteria. He saw Francis chatting pleasantly with a wavy - haired blonde with indigo eyes. Hmm... I'll leave him alone for now. I should try making friends with some of the students that came here, anyways. Most of them seem nice enough, but I guess I can't know yet. Huh, it's that kid from before... Why is he alone, I wonder?

He strode over to the back table and poked the boy's shoulder, who glared at him as soon as his head lifted.

"The fuck do you want, bastard?"

"Umm... May I please sit here? "

"No,"

"Why not?"

"Because I fucking said so, damnit!" The Spaniard chuckled at his stubbornness.

"Okay!" He sat down regardless, and also got punched in the side.

"Ow! What did you do that for?!"

"You're being a jerk,"

Antonio blinked. "I'm sorry for sitting down next to you?"

The boy sighed. "You don't have to apologize, idiota! I just... Why did you approach me in the first place?! I mean, why not anyone else in this room?! I'm fine over here, go talk to your jerk friends or something, because I can't handle someone randomly butting into my life right now!" The boy had stood up in the middle of his ranting, and was on the verge of shouting. His face flushed a surprisingly red color when he noticed people giving him strange looks, and sat back down out of embarrassment.

Antonio took a minute to comprehend the 20 dramatic seconds of meaningful words that hit his eardrums.

"Because I wanted to, and you seem more interesting than anyone else here," he replied simply.

The boy was at a loss of words for a decent amount of time, face blank and unreadable. Antonio decided to break the silence.

"Let's start over, okay? Hola, I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. And you are..?"

The boy looked down, and then locked his gaze with Antonio.

"Lovino. Lovino Romano Vargas."