11/29/2011

Author's Notes:

So…

Is this RusxUs? NO! There's no boyxboy stuff in this story. Like, at all.

Want readers to review regardless if they liked the story or not? YES!

Own Hetalia? NO! I do not own Hetalia or any of its wonderful characters (Russia/Ivan Braginski, Belarus/Natalia Braginski, etc.). Only the plot and idea for this story alone is mine. That's all.

Summary: AU brotherly relationship- Alfred gets detention with his rival, Ivan Braginski. Alfred and Ivan are 16.

-o0o-

"This is all your fault, ya know." Alfred told Ivan as he reached down and drenched his sponge in a water-filled bucket.

"Oh? How so, comrade?" Ivan stared puzzlingly at the American from the other side of the class room.

"Well, if you hadn't started the fight, we wouldn't be stuck here after school, cleaning all of the chalkboards in the entire building for detention!" Alfred scrubbed the chalk crusted board vigorously. "And don't call me comrade! I'm not your friend!"

"I will call you what I wish, Альфред. This is America, да? It is a free country. And I disagree; I was not the one who landed us in detention." Ivan said, slowly washing the chalk away with his own wet cloth.

"Oh, yeah? And why do you think that?" Alfred asked, wincing as he moved his bruised arm.

"Well, you were the one who grabbed my scarf. I even asked you to nicely remove your hands, but you refused, thus resulting in our fight." Alfred snorted.

"You took my hamburger before I grabbed your stupid scarf. And I also asked nicely for it back and you said no."

"I was hungry, comrade. I wanted food, even if it had to be one of those disgusting hamburgers of yours."

"Dude, if you're too lazy to buy yourself lunch, go steal someone else's food, not mine! I'm sure that creepy stalker sister of yours would've been glad to give you some of her lunch."

"The school's lunch is extremely unpleasant, I think that is one thing we can agree on, and honestly, I try to avoid Natalia as much as I can." Ivan said, his smile slipping for a second.

"Pfft, why would you do that? I mean, she's your sister, isn't she? It's not like she's gonna hurt you."

"Let me ask you something, Alfred. How would you feel if Matthew followed you everywhere you went, despite your best efforts to evade him, and decided one day that you and him are to be married in the future?" Alfred's face screwed up uncomfortably at the thought.

"That's completely different. Mattie's a dude. And my brother."

"And Natalia is my sister. Trust me, being the center of her attention is not enjoyable. Especially since she is skilled with knives."

"Knives?" Alfred stopped cleaning the board, paling.

"Yes."

"Who in their right mind would teach a high school student how to use knives?"

"I am not sure," Ivan admitted. "Katyusha and I believe that she might have taught herself."

"Dude that's insane," Alfred shook his head. "I don't blame you for being scared of her."

"I never said I was afraid of her," Ivan said, frowning. "She means well."

"Yeah, of course she means well." Alfred said sarcastically. "She just follows you around like obsessed paparazzi, happens to know how to use everyday kitchen utensils as weapons, and you shake in fear whenever she's around." Alfred finished, rolling his eyes. "Of course you're not afraid of her, why would you be?"

"And what are you scared of, Alfred?" Ivan asked softly, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Nothing, obviously! I'm a hero, and heroes aren't scared of anything!" Alfred boasted, grinning at the Russian. Ivan narrowed his eyes.

"Oh? Are you sure? I'm sure you can think of something," Ivan said, somehow managing to make the casual sentence sound menacing. "Unless, you actually are afraid of nothing, which would make you a fool."

"'There is nothing to fear but fear itself,'" Alfred quoted, lifting his head up a bit higher. "FDR said that."

"So there is something in that scatterbrained head of yours. I'm impressed."

"Of course there is, stupid! I'm going to school, aren't I?" Alfred scowled. "And I know tons of stuff! Just because I don't act all smart and intelligent doesn't mean I'm dumb!"

"I never said that you were dumb," Ivan dipped his cloth into a red bucket placed on the teacher's desk. "There would be no point in fighting with you if that were true." Alfred frowned.

"Uh, thanks, I guess? I'm not sure whether to take that as a complement or an insult." Alfred's brow furrowed with confusion.

"It's a compliment. You are one of the few people I consider to be somewhat equal to myself," Ivan smiled sweetly and Alfred's confusion turned into annoyance.

"'Somewhat equal?'" Alfred repeated with a glare. "What, I'm not good enough to be at your level or something?"

"No," Ivan said thoughtfully. "You are just too rash. Here," he threw a roll of paper towels at Alfred who caught it easily. "The board is clean, we must dry it now."

"What do you mean, I'm too rash?" Alfred placed the towels on the teacher's desk, and leaned forward with one hand on the chair, challenging the other with his eyes.

"You are… how do I put it? You rush into things; don't think about the consequences before going ahead. You never ask other's opinions because you think that you are always right, regardless of what everyone else thinks. You are too impatient, headstrong, immature, and annoying, and therefore, too rash." Ivan explained. Alfred flushed with anger.

"What about you then? If I'm rash, then you are fake."

"Fake?" I van raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, fake. Like a doll." Alfred said, turning back to the blackboard. He didn't see a flash of rage cross Ivan's face. Ivan strode towards the American, and grabbed the back of Alfred's jacket.

"Explain, comrade." Ivan growled. Alfred whirled around and slapped Ivan's hand away.

"Don't touch me," Alfred snapped.

"Then don't turn your back on me," came the reply. "And do not insult me."

"I can say what I want! This is America, remember? Land of the free and home of the brave; I can say anything I want because it is in my right. Now, do you want me to explain, or not?" I van remained silent, glaring at the American through a swollen eye that he had gained in their fight earlier that day.

"You are fake," Alfred hissed, staring up into Ivan's strange purple tinted eyes. "Because nothing about you is real. Everything about you, from your creepy smile to your happy expression, is a lie. I see right through your stupid mask. I can tell that you're lonely because no one wants to be around you, or hang out with you of their own free will. You wanna know why that is, Ivan? It's because you are a dictator! You force people to be with you, but that isn't real friendship, buddy. It's fake. If you want friends, you gotta start by being real, by meaning what you say. You have to be ready to make sacrifices, and yeah, it might hurt sometimes. But that's part of life. Without the pain, we would never understand things like friendship and love. So if you really care about getting others to like you, you have to mean what you say, and what you do, because people have a way of telling when they're being lied to."

By this time, the tension in the room was palpable; both teenagers where in each other's faces, breathing hard as if they had just run a marathon. A moment later, Alfred sucked in a deep shuddering breath stepped away from the Russian, breaking the spell. Horror dawned on Alfred's face as he realized what he had just said, and he abruptly turned on his heel and left the room. Ivan just stood there in shock, unable to force himself to move to go after the American. Had Alfred really just said all that? No one had ever been brave enough to tell Ivan the truth to his face before, so he was struck speechless at how he should respond to what had just happened. There was a loud bang, and Ivan jumped slightly at the loud noise. Cautiously walking foreword, Ivan entered the hallway to see Alfred kicking a locker with a frustrated look on his face.

"What do you want?" Alfred asked bitterly, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and purposefully staring at the opposite end of the hallway.

"I am sorry," Ivan said quietly. Alfred's head whipped around to stare at him in surprise. "I should not have called you all of those things, though they are true most of the time."

"Yeah, well," Alfred mumbled. "I wanna say sorry too. I was kinda harsh back there; it was a real un-hero like act, calling you out like that." He scratched the back of his head and offered Ivan a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean it to come out so mean sounding."

"Why do you care how it came out?" Ivan asked, bothered by Alfred's last sentence. "We hate each other, don't we?"

"I dunno, are we? I wouldn't say I hate you- strongly dislike you, yes- but hate you?" Alfred shook his head. "Hate's a strong word, Ivan. I wouldn't use it to describe our relationship, no matter what you think."

"You don't hate me?" Ivan repeated numbly. How could that be true? The two of them had been fighting with each other ever since Alfred had called him a Commie back when he was still at the orphanage. They had been 4 at the time.

"No! I don't! Jeesh, do I need to explain it to you? Hate is like something you use for someone who killed your parents, or something extreme like that. And although we fight a ton, we never actually mean to seriously hurt each other, or at least, I don't mean to hurt you that way. You're more like my teacher to me than my enemy. "

"извините?" Ivan was getting more and more confused with every word the other boy spoke. "How am I in any way your teacher?" Alfred sighed in annoyance at having to clarify the meaning behind his words to the Russian.

"Well, you like, kinda inspire me to be better than you." Alfred admitted, going slightly red. "Every single time we have a fight, I get excited to see if I've gotten better than last time, or if you have finally gotten to be stronger than me. I'm always curious to which one of us is gonna break the stalemate, but in a way, I don't want that to happen either."

"Why? A stalemate is bad, Да? It means that neither of us has improved at all."

"You're wrong!" Alfred shouted loudly, startling Ivan. "If the stalemate was broken, what would be the point of fighting anymore? I would have no one to test myself against, and neither would you! A stalemate doesn't mean we haven't gotten any better, it just means we are equal." Ivan stared at Alfred, amazed at the younger boy's insightful explanation.

"What, are you going to make fun of me now?" Alfred folded his arms, scowling.

"No, you are actually right, for once."

Alfred snorted, which then became full out laughter while Ivan started at him, alarmed.

"I can't believe you just said that." Alfred gasped once he caught his breath. "I never thought I would live to see the day that you would tell me that I was the right one."

"I never thought that I would live to see the day that you would actually apologize to me," Ivan admitted. "But, yes, you are right, and not just about the stalemate. I don't have many friends; real friends at least. And, although I hate to say it, I want to try what you said to make sure I do get those real friends."

"That's awesome, dude! Glad to hear it!" Alfred laughed obnoxiously and Ivan's eye twitched. There, that was the Alfred he knew; loud and irritating no matter what happened. "So, how 'bout this: you can start by being my friend, here, in detention."

"Our status jumps from enemies to friends in one day?" Ivan said skeptically.

"Okay, your right, maybe that's too much of a leap. How about from enemies to friendly rivals, then? That way we won't end up ripping each other's heads every other day and giving our siblings heart attacks every time they hear we got into another fight." At that Ivan smiled, and this time, it was a genuine smile.

"I would like that, comrade." Alfred made a face at the nickname, but didn't say anything.

"C'mon, we still have that blackboard to finish up." He walked past Ivan and back into the classroom. Ivan followed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

-o0o-

Russian Translations according to Google:

Альфред- Alfred

Да- yes

Извините- Excuse me

-o0o-

Author's Notes:

So…good? Bad? Review and tell me!

-I have a DeviantArt account now! Only my writing will be updated on there, but you guys can go check it out if you like! The link is on my profile page, if anyone cares ^^

-I'm not so sure how I feel about this chapter, but Russia is one of my favorite characters after America and England so I just had to write something about him. I wanna write more of him in the future too; Alfred and Ivan are so funny around each other!

-I'm trying to not make Alfred one of those perfect characters who are amazing and wonderful and everyone loves them, and blah, blah, blah. I don't want any of the characters to be like that. I want them all to have skills and have good qualities, but I want them all to have flaws and weird traits about them too. I hope that is shown throughout the story.

-I apologize if any part of the story is unrealistic.

R&R por favor!

-Camie