Hey! Sorry for the later update, I had a mock UN conference and History exam at school, which meant that I had to release this chapter a couple of days late. This chapter is mainly a filler really and nothing amazing happens but enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

When I got home, I ignored my family in favour of going upstairs and secluding myself inside my bedroom while engaging in a lot of reflection. If yesterday wasn't weird, then today most definitely was. My head hurt as it struggled to contain the shock from my experience. Part of me believed that I was going insane. Real or not, I wouldn't be surprised. I decided to open my newfound book onto the contract that I had hastily signed in a moment of desperation. I read the text:

'I promise to protect the kingdom of light at any cost.

I promise to remain loyal to my king or queen and their cause.

I promise to remain loyal to my fellow spirits of light.

I promise to fight for my kingdom.

I promise to accept the wisdom of my parallel.

And no matter what, I promise to give up what I love for my kingdom.

And when the time comes, I promise to die for my kingdom.

But most importantly, as the heir of light, I, Arthur Kirkland, solemnly swear to fulfil my destiny…

…and unify the two kingdoms.'

Below that, my thoughtless, messy signature was printed in cheap, black ink. I was rendered speechless – what had I gotten myself into? Didn't Oliver say the two kingdoms had been at war for ages? If that was the case, then how was I supposed to unify them? I felt a huge burden sink upon my weak shoulders. I turned the page again. Spells were scrawled across the first page and the second, and the third… What would happen if I recited one? I decided to restrain my intrigue as my family were only downstairs and I still felt quite tired from the previous battle. I fell backwards, sinking into my mattress, closing my book and holding it against my chest. I found myself growing increasingly drowsy and a yawn escaped my mouth as a result. My eyelids slowly began to flutter shut as I began to fall into a deep slumber.

I sat comfortable and content at the dining room table, practically inhaling the plate of fish and chips set in front (with my manners still in play, of course). In the seats around me sat my family: my mother, father, Scott and Peter. They never ceased to get under my skin but I knew that I wouldn't have them any other way. To me, they meant everything at the end of the day. We were perfectly happy, eating a middle-class dinner, in a middle-class house, as a middle-class family. What else could you ask for?

Who would think that something so perfect could be lost in the blink of an eye? The possibility never crossed my mind that such moments could be our last. And at that moment, my vision grew severely distorted and a chorus of terrified screams erupted as my vision faded into a scarlet blur.

My sight returned. I wish it hadn't.

I was now kneeling on the floor, a body cradled in my arms, caked with blood. I recognised the face. It was… Alfred's. His eyes began to lose their astrological shine as they dimmed ever so slowly… The American lifted a hand to caress my shoulder but the motion was interrupted as it fell to his side. He mouthed something intelligible before the life began to seep out of his body. I felt…

Hollow, empty. It was as if Alfred was important, that he meant something to me, even though we'd only just met. I couldn't wrap my head around it.

Once again everything faded to emptiness. I was alone, plunged in darkness, with nothing except… that. That f***ing book, opened on the first page. The contract page. All the lines were ambiguous, blurred and confused, except for one.

'And no matter what, I promise to give up what I love for my kingdom.'

It seemed so obvious but I couldn't understand, something was missing…

I woke up, panicked and perturbed. My breaths were short and irregular, as if I had just experienced a nightmare, which I had. I think. My memory refused to provide answers and it frustrated me to no end. Again it appeared in front of me, that book. It lay there, on my bedside table, as if it were entitled to. For several minutes, I lay there, gazing numbly at the ceiling, letting images and thoughts swim freely through my tired head. Unexplained fragments of my dream appeared within my memory, disconnected and unfettered. I found that one, was particularly prominent, playing over and over again, like a broken record or a song on repeat. It bugged me, especially because it was him of all people. Why, after a few hours, was Alfred F. Jones stuck in my head? My mind struggled to comprehend it all.

Moonlight peeked through my bedroom curtains. I had slept for that long? And here I had thought that it was merely an afternoon nap… Going back to sleep was going to be quite the challenge. I decided to change into my pyjamas before anything else. Sleeping in uniform wasn't exactly the most comfortable of things. I opted for shorts and a t shirt, which was ideal as it was quite warm, as summer heat lingered into the beginning of September. I then buried myself deep underneath the covers, laying there idly until I plunged into a lighter sleep, hours later.

Once again, I found myself growling at my alarm in the morning, as high pitched rings resonated throughout my bedroom, reminding me of my many responsibilities. It gave my clock a fierce slap, as I heaved myself out of bed. The mirror was the first thing to greet me, yielding an unpleasant reflection. My hair was messier than usual, knotted and strewn about in different directions. It wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed with a quick brush, as it was short, thank goodness. Even then, it still looked quite disorganised. The brows were a different story entirely.

As per usual, I went through my morning routine and set off for school.

The traffic on the bus journey wasn't too severe and I found myself in my tutor room ten minutes early. Surprisingly, Matthew was already there, sitting contentedly in his seat and reading. I made towards my chair and upon noticing me, he made a small fold in his book and set it aside, before turning his attention to me.

"Hey Arthur."

"Good morning Matthew." I replied respectfully. "How was your evening?" Matthew appeared to shiver for a short moment but it quickly passed so I paid it no mind.

"I-it wasn't too bad. I had to catch up on a lot of coursework, since I joined late and all."

"Good luck with that, it isn't going to be easy." I sighed, even I had trouble with coursework and I hadn't missed a lot of my lessons. Actually, sleeping early last evening may not have been the most amazing of ideas…

"Thanks." He chuckled light-heartedly. "What lessons have you got?"

"I have P.E next." Matthew snorted at the reply.

"Oh, I think my brother mentioned something about having P.E next." The Canadian mused.

"Are you serious?" I groaned, leaning back into my chair. "I already have all my science lessons with him."

"I see I'm not the only one then. He drives me crazy as well."

"Ah yes, and you live with him as well."

"I guess you're right but he isn't always like that. Alfred's not that bad once you get to know him."

"Oh really…?" I felt my dislike of Alfred lift a little and felt slightly guilty for making such judgements about him. If I were close to Alfred, what would it be like…?

Well, I wasn't going to find out because I had no intention of befriending him.

'It's because you want to be more-'

I wasn't going to allow my brain to finish that sentence. I had no sort of attraction to Alfred, especially because I had only met him yesterday. Not to mention that he was a boy.

"Um, Arthur…?" I was snapped out of my stupor. "Are you alright, you were spacing out a little."

"What- huh, I'm fine." I shook my head slightly. "Sorry about that." I reddened slightly, embarrassed. Oh, it was going to be a long day.

"Hey Artie!" Alfred's arms grabbed me from behind in a loose hug, causing me to sputter, surprised. He released me shortly after. Like myself, he was clad in the school's P.E kit.

"It's Arthur." I moaned, rubbing my head. It was too early for this. "Good morning." Mr. Vargas chose that moment to march in, angrily clapping his hands and silencing the class.

"Right you bastards, get into pairs and get yourselves a basketball, one between two!" He bellowed, his voice echoing through the gym. Some of the girls' eyes gravitated towards Alfred and they started talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. Noticing, the American grimaced slightly.

"Dude, I've only been here one day and they're looking at me." He whispered not-so-quietly. "I don't get it." Well, I couldn't say I was surprised.

"You aren't the only one standing here." I crossed my arms and furrowed my brows slightly.

"Yeah whatever." Alfred dismissed, his eyes averting to the girls in the corner. "Hey, who's the one with the long brownish hair, she's kinda hot." My expression dampened at the crude comment. I followed Alfred's eyes towards the mentioned girl. Oh lord, it was her.

"Are you talking about Chantelle?" I sighed. "Honestly, she isn't the nicest of people – personality wise." I felt an odd resentment bubble inside me but I couldn't pinpoint why…

'It's because you're jealous Arthur.' What a load of rubbish.

"Ah, I see." Alfred's eyes fell back upon me, as he lost interest. "Anyway, do you wanna be partners?" There wasn't any other person in this class that I could pair up with, so I found myself agreeing.

"I don't see why not." I shrugged. I flushed a little as Alfred gave me a gleeful, boyish grin in response. Honestly, being my partner wasn't that exciting. I picked up a basketball and gave it a few lame bounces as I walked with Alfred to an emptier space. I cursed as it slipped out of my grip and rolled across the floor. Just as I took a step forward, Alfred sprinted off and picked it up himself and then headed back towards me, flawlessly bouncing the basketball.

"Dude, your bounces are pretty crap." Alfred teased, giving an amused smirk. Embarrassed, I gave him a good glare – I didn't appreciate having my poor sports skills being made fun of.

"Shut your insulting mouth, you wanker. Everyone has their weaknesses." I spat, fuming.

"Haha, you're probably right man. Like, I'm totally awesome at Math, Science and Sports but when it comes to creative shit like English, I completely suck. They put me in the bottom set and everything!" For some reason, the American found that to be quite amusing and he started laughing to himself.

"I'm exactly surprised. You Americans can't seem to grasp the English language. Your incorrect spelling of words like colour is a perfect example."

"What do you mean?! Everyone knows that it's spelled without the 'u'"

"It's spelt, not spelled." I corrected his flawed American grammar once again.

"What the fuck is spelt? I've never heard anyone say that before."

We spent the rest of the lesson, and break, bickering about American and English grammar.

I sat in the canteen, waiting patiently for Francis and Matthew. I found myself rather (pleasantly) surprised when I noticed Alfred heading towards me, with a short black-haired boy following behind. I recognised that the person happened to be none other than Kiku Honda. Had Alfred managed to befriend the boy? That was fairly impressive, considering that Kiku never talked to or made friends with anyone. Intentionally. I had attempted conversation with the boy several times before, yet I had always been brushed off in some way or another.

"Hello Alfred" I turned politely to the shier boy beside him. "And Kiku."

"Konnichiwa Arthur-san." Kiku spoke with timid haste, before giving a brief, curt bow. His auburn eyes averted to the side uncomfortably. Well, this was going to be quite awkward, wasn't it? Noticing the slight tension wafting about the air, Alfred chose to initiate some form of conversation.

"So Kiku's really good at drawing anime okay…" And it started from there. After receiving heaps of pressure from Alfred, Kiku pulled a sketchbook out of his bag with reluctance. As he did, I thought I saw a glimpse of a book that oddly resembled the one given to me by Oliver, except smaller and thinner…

I paid it no mind: it was probably my imagination.

Kiku gingerly set the sketchbook on the table, hesitating slightly before tentatively prying it open. In utter astonishment, I gawked – those drawings were good.

"These are amazing…" I gasped, my mouth agape slightly. "How have I not seen these yet? We're in the same Art class as well…"

"A-arigatou." He pulled the tiniest of smiles. "What kind of things do you draw? If you don't mind me asking." And with that, we began our conversation which stemmed onto various other topics, with Alfred pitching in every now and then. Overall, it was quite pleasant and I found myself getting on quite well with the boy.

We were interrupted as Francis and Matthew joined us at the table. Kiku returned to his former, more reserved state and my mood turned sour at the presence of a certain Frenchman.

"Oh, it seems we have company." Francis chuckled. "Bonjour!" He greeted as he sat next to me. It honestly felt quite surreal, with this many people, considering that Francis and I were usually the only ones here. I couldn't exactly complain though; sitting with the beardy for an hour was agonising, to say the least. It was definitely nicer with more people around.

"Oh yeah Matt, I want ya' to meet Kiku…"

After school, I was walking out of the building with Alfred, heading towards the school gates in order to leave, but I was interrupted as Francis suddenly grabbed me by the wrist and started dragging me off.

"Oi! Let go of me you fucking frog!" A screamed, as I was dragged away from an amused Alfred. "I was giving the yank a very important lecture!"

"You can flirt with your petit ami later. Right now, I need you to come over and help me with my music coursework because as hurtful as it is to admit, you are superior in the subject."

"F-flirt?! I would never do something so shameful. I've only known the idiot for a day - dear lord, I'm not you Francis!" I ignored the rest of his explanation in favour of sputtering over Alfred. "And I also seem to recall you saying that I was 'far too sexually repressed' to do anything of the sort."

"Mon Dieu! Do not get so defensive. I was only teasing you."

"Look, I cannot simply come over to your house like this on such short notice."

"But Arthur, I need your help!" I pulled my wrist free and crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow.

"Why is that?"

"Because I am behind in Music and I know that you are not." Francis got down on his knees. "Please, mon ami, I know you hate me and I hate you too but this situation calls for desperate measures." The Frenchman beseeched. It was quite a sight. I relented, sagging my shoulders.

"Fine." And with that, he was jumping for joy.

"Merci!"

"Ah yes, but you owe me. Lots." I gave him a menacing look, I wasn't going to let the Frenchman win. "I want you to get me something nice from Waitrose on the way back."

"What?! I am not spending money on you."

"Alright then, I guess I shall not be paying you a visit." Francis pouted in defeat.

"Okay, okay, I'll get you some horrible British food."

"That's jolly good then." I pulled my phone out and sent a text to my family, letting them know that I was going to the frog's house for a few hours. I walked with Francis to a sleek, black Porsche, with a suit-clad chauffeur standing in front. He gave the Frenchman a bow and a polite greeting, before opening the door to allow him in. Then, a door opened for me as well, and I got into the backseat. I was overwhelmed by the smell of polished leather – the car was definitely well maintained.

Compared to Francis, I was lacking in money. While my family was quite well-off, Francis' was very different. His mother was a respectable and renowned business woman who was paid a hell of a lot and his father owned a Michelin star restaurant in Central London. It was quite popular, with lots of customers, who would willingly pay for food that was quite extortionately priced. I had been once, for the Frog's eighth birthday party or something like that – it was certainly an experience, no-one had ever taken me to such an extravagant place before.

We pulled to a halt in Francis' driveway, which was large enough to hold several other cars. I let myself out, with Francis following suit. After going inside and dumping our shoes and coats inside, the two of us headed for Francis' room. It was quite tidy: the desk was completely clear, save for a pile of school books in the corner and a pencil case placed neatly on top. Across the carpeted floor, straight and creaseless, lay a rug adorning the French flag and from the ceiling, hung a small chandelier, shining in its expensive glory. Of course, the room wasn't that refined because of Francis, no, his parents paid for that too. But worst of all, his bed, a king-sized wonder which provided far too much sleeping space for only one person. It sat, smack dab in the middle of the room, clothed neatly in soft, silky and overly extravagant sheets, which were pleasant to touch. To annoy Francis, I threw my bag carelessly onto the bed and threw myself atop the mattress, messing everything up.

"Sacre bleu Arthur, do not soil my bed wearing your filthy school clothes." Francis snapped, his voice laced with irritation.

"That is no way to treat a guest." I gave jeering smirk, causing Francis' existing frown to deepen even further. "Wait." I paused, remembering something. "We didn't go to Waitrose." I stood up, relishing in the mortified expression on Francis' face. "We're going now."

"You cannot be serious!"

"Oh, but I am." With an exasperated groan, he stood up as well. We left, our bags and blazers dumped recklessly across the floor.

"Which one should I get?" I questioned, holding the two food items in my bag. "Scones, or Prawn Cocktail crisps?"

"Neither. They are both British and therefore inedible. I think that you should go for the croissants."

"You know what, I never should have asked. You can buy both of them."

"Je refuse!" Francis argued. I folded my arms stubbornly, furrowing my brows into a fierce and demanding glare. "Ah, whatever."

"Yes, that's more like it." We headed to the self-service counters. With a lot of cursing, we managed to finally pay for my well-earned sweets, which we carried back with us to Francis' house.

"Would you like a crisp?" I questioned, a mocking expression across my features.

"Non." The Frenchman's expression turned bitter as he watched me eat. "Let's start our work shall we?" He unzipped my rucksack and turned it upside-down, tipping the contents across his bed, including Oliver's book. Francis' eyes lit up with intrigue as his gaze fell upon it. "Oh, what is this?" He picked it up, examining it. My curiosity elevated as it refused to open, even when he gave a solid pull on the latch.

"Here, let me try." I took it out of his hands and into my own. As it opened with complete ease, my eyes grew wide. "How could you not open it?" I raised an eyebrow, either Francis was more of a lazy sod than he let on, or something else was at play here.

"I don't know." The frog narrowed his eyes at me. "How and where did you get it?"

"I have no idea, this person gave it to me…"

"Interessant…" Francis mused, as if he knew something already.

"What is it frog?!"

"Oh, it is nothing of importance mon ami, do not worry." He dismissed me with a small wave of his hand. He sifted silently through my stuff, fetching my music folder from the newly created pile. "So for the song we have to compose…"

And then began tedious hours of studying. It was anything but smooth, as we were interrupted by numerous arguments, caused by Francis' incompetence.

That night I found myself relieved and exhausted beyond belief, and for the first time in several days, I managed to acquire more reasonable amounts of sleep.

I have to say, while this chapter is long, it's not amazingly descriptive and I felt that I rushed through some of it a little. I'm hoping that as I progress through the story and get the plot going, things will improve. I also just re-read the third chapter and realised that it was really cheesy and yeah.

Reviews_

tokyoghoul324: Thanks! You're definitely onto something about Alfred but I'm not going to reveal any specific information.

notvkawaii: Yay, a second review, haha! Thanks a lot, I'm glad the plot isn't too boring or anything.

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