A/N: The Easter holidays have almost ended for me... For shame. I have exams starting on the 12th May which end on the 1st June. Fun times for me; I have 8 in total and I'm just dreading what's going to happen. Luckily, I only need 40% to pass each module, and I'm really riding on that, ha ha! It's my dad's birthday today- I know it might seem odd that I might post Gakutalia on my dad's birthday, but he's opened his presents and we're going out for dinner later! As a family, we're not massive on the birthdays- Christmas is the big one for us!
Anyway, I just want to a say a massive thanks to everyone who has visited this Fic- 1,000 views, that is! So many people have been clicking on Gakutalia: LIITA! I feel like a proud mother at this point. Thank you for being patient with me and my terrible scheduling, but also for just taking the time to see what I've written. It really means a lot to see people have been checking up with me and my stories, and that everyone's still on board the Gakutalia train. Thank you again, and without further ado, the next chapter of Gakutalia: LIITA!
Chapter 10
Y.W.
After the events of the first, disastrous week, Yao was glad to see his friends finally begin to focus on studies and what was happening in school. The rift between Ivan and Alfred did not repair. The two remained adamant to stay apart, even if Ivan was excluded from the friendship group of five. Although it had been great to see him over the weekend, Yao was a little sad to see he would not be standing with them during school.
Once again, they were practicing for the school play. After all the compliments Mrs Ramsay had been feeding him, as well as the approval of Ludwig, Yao strongly believed he was in for a significantly good role in the play.
Today, Mrs Ramsay had lined them all up for speech practice. Since Shakespeare's English was considerably different to Modern English, she wanted to hear how well everyone spoke. Yao had already successfully passed her books, managing to enunciate each word with care and precision. She had in her eyes the same light she always did when he appeared before everyone else. Yao's ego had inflated to a healthy size ever since he'd begun.
After Alfred tripped a couple times on his words, it was Arthur's turn. Yao watched as he stood before the other students, enthralled by the words of a man he venerated. Yao had always known Arthur was passionate about Shakespeare, so this was probably something within the Literature geek's element.
"Rumble thy bellyful!" the way Arthur spoke even had Yao hanging on his words. Although he didn't share the crazed look of Lear by this stage of the play, the power in his words conveyed more than enough to satisfy Mrs Ramsay, who leant forwards in anticipation to hear more. "Spit, fire! Spout, rain!"*
He continued the speech of powerful words, each hitting Yao like the bolts of lightning they were intended to represent. Arthur spoke with a passion Yao had never witnessed within him before, and Mrs Ramsay even got him to read a second passage. Yao watched in awe as his usually unenthusiastic friend ploughed through the second passage with the same vigour and fluidity as he'd done the first one.
"I am a man more sinned against than sinning,**" Arthur finished, and Mrs Ramsay sighed.
"That was spectacular, Arthur," she gushed. "I've never seen someone perform with so much… life before. Listening to you read those lines really made me consider the thoughts and emotions running through Lear's head at that exact moment. It was truly inspiring…"
"Thank you," he suddenly seemed speechless.
The most relieved Arthur looked was when he got to step back away from the crowd and let someone take the lead.
"Ivan?" Mrs Ramsay checked her list. "If you turn to page nine, there's another speech of Lear's that begins at the bottom of the page. Could you read that?"
Ivan, who stood beside Yao, suddenly looked bright red. "Me?"
He even completed the dumbfounded expression with a little added point in his own direction. Mrs Ramsay nodded.
"I'm not sure I can…" Ivan began, but paused when Yao nudged him.
"Go on, aru," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.
"What if I don't want to?" Ivan replied, even though his lips barely moved.
"Of course you want to," Yao whispered fiercely. "Since we're all going to be in this play, you might as well get a good part."
With a sigh, Ivan stepped forward and began flicking idly through the pages. "Where was it again, sorry?"
"Page nine," Mrs Ramsay said. "Bottom. Start with the line: 'Here I disclaim'***."
"Right," Ivan paused at page nine, and swallowed nervously.
Oddly, he glanced at Yao, who nodded his encouragement, and then towards Alfred, who remained uncharacteristically stoic, a firm frown stretched across his face. Ivan inhaled deeply and began to read.
F.B.
Francis had always been one for drama. That in itself was obvious in the way he reacted towards the problems his friends struggled with on a daily basis. He performed as expected: with a flair and enthusiasm that could not be replicated amongst any other student. He was not perfect, but he was definitely unique, and it was to Francis' delight that he was able to make himself stand out amongst his fellow students. He always liked to be noticed, and he didn't want to be completely outshone by Arthur, who had caught Mrs Ramsay's positive attention the moment he'd started speaking.
It was Roderich's turn, and Francis was standing in the line between Elizabeta and Basch. The Austrian student stood forwards, his graceful figure illuminated by the stage lights Mrs Ramsay had turned on. His pianist's fingers delicately turned the page when he reached the end, and although usually harsh spoken, Shakespearian language fit his dialect. He still had a firm voice, but it seemed somehow softer compared to usual.
"He's so good at this," Elizabeta murmured from beside Francis.
He paused, and glanced at her. Her green eyes were transfixed on Roderich, and she had her hands behind her back, fingers tightly knotted and interwoven amongst each other, as if she were nervous.
"Very," he agreed, and watched her look at him with wide eyes.
"Did I say that out loud?" she whispered and anxiously chuckled under her breath. "Pretend you didn't hear that…"
"What do you mean?" Francis replied. "What's wrong with admiring a fellow student's speaking skills?"
She paused for thought, but she seemed to be struggling to find the right words.
"Unless we're dealing with grounds that go beyond admiration?" he suggested, and watched a blush creep in her cheeks, an expression he'd never seen in the overly strong, fierce Elizabeta Hédeváry before.
"Whatever do you mean by that?" she huffed. "I think Roderich's speaking skills are incredible, but that's it."
"You two always hang out with one another," Francis shrugged. "I just wanted to know if I was wrong after all this time and if there is something going on between you two."
"There's absolutely nothing between myself and Roderich," she pursed her lips. "And even if there was, Francis, it wouldn't be any of your business."
"Can I let you in on a little secret?" Francis leant a little closer. "You know Basch?"
This was said extremely quietly, considering the other student stood right beside him, oblivious to every word he was saying.
"What about him?" she looked suspicious of Francis' sudden change of subject.
"I've heard a lot about him," Francis said, eyes flitting in the Swiss student's direction. "But the most interesting is that he used to be extremely close to Roderich."
"I know that," she looked almost proud of herself. "You don't know any more than I do…"
"Well, you see, I've also heard that he bats for the other team," Francis whispered, and watched her tense. "I heard he made a move on Roderich and that's why they're no longer friends."
"No, that can't be it," she peered at Basch incredulously, who awkwardly met her gaze and looked away. "I didn't think…"
"Ask Feliks about it," Francis knew Feliks would be able to provide some kind of story blurring Basch's sexuality, so knew he could send Elizabeta there and know she was going in the right direction. "But I've heard a lot about Basch that would make you and I blanche on the spot."
Elizabeta said nothing, just kept glancing between Basch and Roderich.
"And what about Roderich?" she finally asked.
"What about him?" Francis wanted to leave her hanging in order to achieve his goal.
"Is he… you know…" she looked uncomfortable.
"Gay?" Francis glanced at Roderich. "Maybe… He is the sensitive, musical type, and he definitely seems to spend a considerable amount of time over his appearance."
"He can't be…" she murmured.
"Why would it matter?" Francis frowned. "It's not like you like him or anything."
There was a moment's wait as she turned her head to look at Francis in disbelief. "Basch isn't gay. That was a ploy to see my reaction."
"Maybe," he smiled to himself.
"Alright, then," she glanced around the room and beckoned Francis closer. "Can I tell you a little secret? Can you promise to keep it between you and I?"
"Naturally," mission accomplished, Francis leant her his ear.
"I may like Roderich more than I let on," she admitted carefully. "But it wouldn't matter anyway, because he obviously doesn't feel the same."
"Does he not?" Francis glanced at Roderich.
"Do you think he does?" she looked slightly hopeful.
"I wouldn't know," Francis replied. "He's very difficult to read…"
"Well, I don't think he does," she sighed wistfully. "He's more focused on the music, so it seems I'm just in the background. It's so difficult to get his attention and keep it, because he's just on one thing to the next…"
"So… you've been friends with him for years, and you've liked him for a long time…" Francis frowned. "Have you ever talked to him about it? Asked him out?"
"Of course not," she looked appalled. "I couldn't risk our friendship over something so trivial. He gets uncomfortable so quickly and as soon as he's confronted with an awkward situation, he chooses to avoid it rather than stare at it head on. He's important to me and I don't want to lose him just like that…"
"Trivial?" Francis gasped. "Love is not 'trivial', Elizabeta, and neither are your feelings. Have you never toyed with the idea that Roderich could, one day, reciprocate the feelings you've held for so long towards him?"
She hesitated, then shifted from foot to foot. "Maybe, but it's wishful thinking, Francis. I honestly don't think Roderich has any feelings for me, otherwise I'd have noticed. We've known one another for years, we've even shared a room, yet he has never tried or said anything to me that could suggest something…"
"He's a bit of a prude, though, isn't he?" Francis said.
"No," she looked defensive. "OK, maybe a little… Sometimes… But he's so wonderful, and he doesn't even realise how I feel about him."
Francis looked towards Roderich and wondered about that. The pair of them were always hanging out with one another, and everyone believed they were dating, even if they weren't. Francis wouldn't have been surprised if they had turned out to be that one couple who were suddenly getting married before they went to university.
"You won't tell anyone, though, right?" Elizabeta looked nervous.
"Of course not," Francis flashed her an effortless smile. "That would be disrespectful to such a wonderful woman's wishes."
A.J.
"I completely nailed it out there," Alfred looked proud of himself as they walked along. "Mrs Ramsay was dead impressed with my performance. I'm definitely going to be Lear with the way this is going."
"I don't know," Yao tapped his chin in thought. "You were pretty good, Arthur, and she even got you to read a second passage."
"Oh, you thought I was good?" Arthur seemed oddly sedated.
"Well, I was better," Alfred said, ignoring the strange behaviour of his friends. "It's quite clear that I'm going to be Lear."
"Alright, then, but don't be disappointed if you're not, aru," Yao shrugged. "Say, where is Francis?"
"I think he left with Elizabeta?" Arthur replied.
"Never mind, Francis, what did you guys think of my-"
Alfred was stopped mid-sentence by Natalya striding over and harshly tapping his shoulder. He glanced down to her, seeing her place her hands on her hips.
"Something up?" he asked.
"I can't find where everyone else is getting the toast," she complained. "Besides, I want a coffee and it's next to impossible to have some when there's none left…"
"Ah, right," he lifted a hand to his friends. "Be with you later."
"How honourable of you," the sarcasm was thick in her tone. "Leaving your friends to help me out, rather than just pan off some vague directions as I expected of you."
"It seems you underestimated me," he led her to the other side of the school, where the common room was located. "However, supplies aren't too hard to find. You have to go to the staff room to collect new supplies, because it's delivered there rather than straight to the common room."
"Oh," she frowned. "How come?"
"Years back a student pretended they weren't getting their box of goods, which resulted in the students of Year Thirteen getting three times the amount they were supposed to," Alfred explained. "The past will always be there to haunt the present."
He knocked on the staff room door and waited for a teacher to open it.
"Come here with someone else," he advised. "Because someone needs to carry the box round to the room, whilst the other person takes the milk."
"Right," she said.
The door opened and Alfred requested the Year Twelve box.
"What about the Year Thirteen one?" she asked.
"That'd be gone by now," he said, and took the box when it came. "You can carry the milk."
"Fine," she grumbled, and took both bottles when they were handed over.
They walked straight to the common room and into the kitchen, where Alfred deposited the box of biscuits, bread and butter on the counter. He unloaded it and passed the items one by one to Natalya, who organised them around the kitchen.
"Students have to do this every day?" she asked.
"If they want snacks, yes," he placed the coffee on the counter, and then the hot chocolate next to that. "You only get coffee, hot cocoa and milk once a week, so savour it or make sure you get an early look in."
"OK," she said, taking the coffee, just as he reached for it.
Alfred glanced at the coffee tub where his hand rested on hers. Her hand was surprisingly warm (why was it surprising?) and her nails were painted a pretty shade of purple, or blue, suddenly Alfred couldn't tell, because he was still standing there, with his hand over hers.
"Um," he withdrew his hand swiftly. "Coffee… tastes great here, so… give it a go. I… need a cup."
He ducked down behind the cupboard and started rifling through cups, even though his stood on the counter above. His face was burning. Alfred swallowed, feeling his heart suddenly beating in his chest. What was wrong with him? Why was he using a cupboard as an excuse to hide?
Cautiously, he peered over the edge of the cupboard and saw her staring at her hand, still on the coffee tub.
* Shakespeare, W. 1606. King Lear. 2000 Heinemann Advanced Shakespeare (2nd Edition). Edinburgh: Act 3, Scene 2, line 14: p127.
(Terrible referencing but I can't risk getting done for copyright. If writing an essay, and you need to reference, never write it like this. Always check to make sure what system you should be using, because there's all kinds of methods for referencing that trip people over. My university department even created their own referencing style which is used nowhere else, just to make students' lives more miserable it would seem.)
** Ibid. Act 3, Scene 2, line 59-60: p131.
*** Ibid. Act 1, Scene 1, line 112: p9.
(You know, by the time I put the Word Doc. on this website, I've checked through it a few times, so present XOs is really hating on past XOs for not even making a slight note of what pages these were supposed to be on.)
A/N: Sorry, my hand slipped and my OTP happened.
I personally didn't study King Lear at school. My sister did, though, and we liked to do read-throughs of her things to stick them better in her memory. We were going through the play when we thought: Oh, wouldn't it be funny if the Hetalia characters acted out the play. I hadn't even started the first Gakutalia back then, but it certainly contributed to my inspiration of the school themed Hetalia AU, alongside the actual game. I studied The Tempest, but my sister had gone to university by then, and I had no other Hetalians to act it out with me, ha ha. Even so, I couldn't help but think France would make a great Ariel, with England as Prospero, and Seychelles as Miranda.
The idea of having to collect snacks from the kitchen areas is completely based off of my own experiences as school. At first, none of us Year 12s knew where to get toast, or biscuits, so we'd keep running out in the first day, and be without for the rest of the week. It took a while, but then one girl's sister told her where to find the boxes, and life improved from there. We were a bit kinder as Year 13s- we told the next Year 12s where to find the boxes before they had even become Sixth Formers! I recall the pride of being the one to carry the box in Year 12, to waiting like a snake in the bushes to be one of the first to partake from the box by the end of Year 13. There would be days when we'd have free periods before break time, which meant you could collect the box earlier. I'd be with my friends and we'd all be saying, "Who wants to get the box?" and all of us were just too lazy to go and walk over to the kitchens.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and until next time! Thank you!
