Oh my gosh, author notes before the chapter for once! The world must be ending!
Well, I guess not, but something has ended – NaNoWriMo! Obviously, I didn't make it to 50,000 words, but I met my personal goal of 30,000 words in time, so I'm satisfied. I will be continuing this story, don't worry. I plan to see this through to the end, as long as I'm able to.
Oh yeah, and because I've only remembered this for one other chapter so far: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA. I do own a lovely white flag with Todd Haberkorn's autograph on it, but that's besides the point.
Also, from now on, I'm going to reply to all my anon reviews at the tops of the chapter. Starting with Tsu, because you're an awesome reviewer! (well, and my only anon reviewer from last chapter)
Tsu: You really just can't help but love Yong Soo, annoying and crazy though he is! And don't worry, there will be plenty of drama, but the kind you're thinking of won't come for a little while yet. I'm trying to make this relationship work in a realistic kind of way, more than simply a convenient love-at-first-sight kind of thing. Things like that don't make for good long stories, in my opinion. And thanks for reviewing each chapter, I love reading your reviews!
Alright already, here's your chapter! Hope you like my twists!
Arthur sighed, certainly not for the first time that day, as he walked home from school. How on earth had he gotten himself roped into this?
That American idiot. He was just too hyper and over-imaginative. But why did he have to force Arthur into something like this?
He thought back to that day's events…
It was right after Drama class, and he and Alfred were walking back to their lockers, which they just then realized were practically right next to each other. They hadn't realized the day before because they had left class at different times, but today, Alfred was practically stalking Arthur everywhere. And the weirdest thing was, even though he kept following right next to the Brit, Alfred was barely talking to him. It wasn't an I-hate-your-guts-so-I'm-never-going-to-talk-to-you-again type of silence, it was more of an I'm-too-busy-thinking-to-talk-to-you-right-now type of silence. Which was especially strange, considering the American's usual peppy and noisy attitude.
At least the silence was better than their lunch conversation. Arthur had a feeling that Alfred was not going to back down so easily on finding out more about him. He really should figure out a passable background story for himself soon, but he was worried that he would not know something vital about this world and cause his story to fall to pieces. He ought to come up with something, though, at least. Maybe he would talk with Mint about it after school.
Anyways, so he and Alfred were at their lockers. Slowly, the other teens filled their backpacks with homework and found their way out of the hallway, leaving Arthur, who was going slowly to make sure he had everything, and Alfred, who was waiting next to him, alone in the long, now-quiet hallway.
Arthur looked up. "Do you have to wait for me?" he asked, cross.
"Well, I've been thinking…"
The Brit snorted. "That'd be a first."
"Hey, I'm plenty smart! Anyways, I'm issuing you a challenge!"
"…a challenge?"
"Yeah!"
"And just what kind of challenge are you talking about?"
"A cooking challenge!"
Oh please. That'd be too easy. Surely Alfred knew he would lose to his British brilliance, so what was he up to if this challenge wasn't just something to inflate his already large ego? "And what would the point be?" he asked, turning back to his locker.
"Well, if I win, you've got to tell me why you moved here from England!"
Arthur whipped his head back and shot him a dangerous look. "I already told you," he said, his voice cold. "I do not wish to share my personal life with others, and quite frankly, it is not of your business."
"What are you afraid you'll lose?" Alfred teased.
"O-of course not! But I'm tired of you hounding me, so just lay off already!"
"So then, you'll admit that American cooking is better than English cooking?"
Arthur stood up and hefted his backpack onto his shoulder. He glared at Alfred straight in the eye, and said "Not in a million years."
"…soooo?"
"Fine, fine, already! So what do I get when I beat you, then?"
"You mean if you beat me. Because I'm pretty darn confident that I can cook better than you. Um…" Obviously the American had not even thought about the possibility of losing. "I'll do your homework for a week!"
"For one thing, that's not nearly equivalent to what you would get, and for another, you'd probably destroy my grades before I even get a chance to build them up."
"Well, what do you want then?" Alfred asked, throwing his arms in the air in mock exasperation.
"You'll stop nagging me about my past. Permanently."
"B-but…"
"That is my condition."
"…fine. I'll win, anyways, so it doesn't really matter to me," Alfred said, shrugging. "So does Thursday at 5 o'clock work for you?"
"Fine by me. Where will it be?"
"Kiku's house. He'll be the judge."
"I don't know where he lives." Arthur didn't know where anything was in this city, actually, but he wasn't going to tell him that.
"I'll have him give you his address. You have classes together, right?"
"Fine." Arthur slammed his locker shut as hard as he could, and was pleasantly satisfied when Alfred flinched at the unexpected bang. "Be ready."
And with that, he marched out of the hall. Thankfully, the American made no move to follow him.
How could he have been so stupid? If he lost this, he'd either have to reveal everything about himself, or come up with a really good fake background story. He simply could not do the former, and he was not sure if he had enough time for the latter. The best solution he could think of at this point was just to win. Which, of course, should not be a problem for him, but if Kiku was the judge, he could not be sure which way the contest would go. From his experiences with the Kiku from his world, the Japanese man didn't like either of their cooking much. Of course, he was the one who ate raw fish on a regular basis.
Arthur would make scones, of course. That was his best recipe, after all. He should probably make a few batches when he got home, actually. Not that he thought he needed practice or anything; his cooking was perfect on a regular basis, thank you very much. He just felt like cooking at the moment.
It was good that his house had ended up close to the school. Arthur knew that he couldn't legally drive the way he was now, and he had no idea how this bloody American public transportation system worked, or even if it would work the same way as the American public transportation back in his world. He was constantly being reminded, taunted, that he hardly knew a bloody thing about his current situation.
When he reached his house, he unlocked the door and took off his shoes as he stepped inside. "Mint," he called softly, knowing that the sprite couldn't be too far behind him, though she had been surprisingly silent the whole way home.
"Arthur, why did you agree to that?" she burst out as she appeared at his shoulder.
"I don't know, Mint," he replied, cross. "It was a spur of the moment thing, I suppose." He walked over to his living room and sat down on the overstuffed couch.
"This isn't like you. You don't usually make such rash decisions."
"I know that. I don't know what it is, quite frankly. If that makes any sense."
"Well… I guess the most we can do now is make sure that we have a good background story for you, just in case."
"I suppose," he replied. He sat for a moment, lost in thought, then frowned as he looked at his Fay friend. "Wait a moment, you don't think I will lose, do you?"
"Er, well, that is to say…"
"My cooking is not bad! And it is certainly better than that garbage that Alfred can make!"
"Arthur, you have to remember, this Alfred is not bound by being a country. The ability of the country as a whole does not affect him."
Arthur's eyes widened. He had not thought of that. "Blast it, Mint. Why didn't you say something about that earlier?" Now he really had no idea what he had gotten himself into.
"You're the one who told me to be quiet! And who knows how Alfred would have reacted if you had forgotten about that yourself and started talking to me?"
Why did such a normally sporadic sprite such as Mint have to be so sensible at times? It was really starting to make Arthur look bad.
"And besides that," she continued, "I don't know if this Alfred really is that different. His cooking could be exactly the same either way. I just don't want you getting in over your head before you know more about this world. I mean, you've only been here for a few days!"
"Look, I know all of that. I am not pretending that I already know everything about this place. I still don't know what on earth I am doing. I suppose… I suppose I'm relying on my natural instincts more than my logic at the moment."
Silence fell between the two of them like a heavy curtain.
"Please?"
"No."
"Pleeease?"
"No."
"Pleeeeeeeease?"
Kiku stopped walking suddenly, causing Alfred to nearly run into him, and turned back to face him. "Alfred-san, I mean no disrespect, but I feel that you are going too far with this."
"But Kiku, I already set it up!"
"Without my permission to use my house for a competition?"
"I didn't even get a chance to tell you what the contest was yet! C'mon, you gotta at least hear me out!"
"What contest could be so important that you need my house?"
"It's a cooking contest! We need you to be the judge!"
Oh. A food contest. …this was important. "I suppose I could possibly be the judge for such a contest, but that does not answer why you require my house. My parents, my older brother, and my younger sister will likely be home, and will object to such an event taking place there."
"But didn't you say they'd be gone on Thursday? Watching some boring Mahjong tournament that your brother's in?"
"Well, yes, but I was planning to—"
"So the house will be free, right? Besides, we couldn't do it at my house, cause Mattie's actually having some friends over for once, and I doubt the Brit would let it be at his house."
"If you do not mind my asking, why do you continue to call him by that?"
"What, Mattie? It's just a nickname, there's nothing wrong with it."
"No, I am asking why you do not want to call Arthur-san by his name."
Alfred looked surprised. "Huh. I didn't even realize I was doing that."
"I apologize, I simply noticed that I have not heard you call him by his name even a single time."
"Really? That's weird. Huh, maybe it's just my subconscious telling me I shouldn't call evil by its name!"
I have a feeling that it is more because you are stubborn, Kiku wanted to say, but he refrained from doing so. Instead, he skirted that topic and said "Arthur-san is not that bad of a person. It would not be horrible to try and be friendly with him."
"Well, if you put it that way, then wouldn't a friendly competition be a good way to welcome him to the school?" Alfred had been careful not to tell the Japanese boy about his wager.
"I suppose…" Why did Kiku always find it so hard to argue with him? That boy was too naturally charismatic for his own good. "I shall ask my family for permission to use the house, I suppose," he said, resigning himself to what appeared to be his fate regardless of what he could say to the American.
"Yes!" Alfred pumped a fist in the air. "Thanks a ton, Kiku!"
"Hai, hai," Kiku replied absentmindedly, already trying to figure out how he would convince his family to let him miss his brother Yao's tournament. He had been rather keen on going, too. Of course, he reasoned, his family would be overjoyed that he would be making a new friend.
That thought made him pause. Friend? He was surprised at himself for thinking that way, since he had only known Arthur for a couple of days. But…it did have a nice ring to it.
"Alright Kiku, I've gotta get home now. Mattie and I are going to have a zombie slaying marathon!"
"Ah, of course. I will see you tomorrow then," he said, bowing.
"See ya!" Alfred held up his hand in farewell as he turned around and jogged off to the bus stop.
Hopefully this will not turn out too badly, Kiku thought.
"Bygn," Arthur cursed, borrowing a swear word from the language of the Fay.
Mint looked up from the bowl where she had been secretly casting spells in an attempt to make the contents at least somewhat edible. "What's wrong?" she asked, flying over to the irate Brit.
"That dirty frog! He's ruined my best recipes!" he cried, waving a book wildly in the air.
"Arthur, Arthur! Calm down, what're you talking about?"
It turned out that Francis had apparently managed to replace nearly all of Arthur's cookbooks with his own French recipes the last time he had been in the house. Arthur didn't actually use his numerous recipes that often, preferring instead to rely on his natural cooking ability, but after he had accidently burnt three batches (it wasn't his fault, the oven must have gone faulty), Mint had insisted that he follow the written instructions this time. And when he had gone to find the book that held the recipes for his delicious scones, he had instead found only books about disgusting French food.
"As soon as I get back, I am going to kill that bloody son of a—"
"Arthur!"
His eyes blazed with anger. "That bloody wanker!" He obviously was not going to calm down any time soon.
"Look, you can get other recipe books!" Preferably ones with recipes that didn't come straight from the Middle Ages, she thought to herself. She was actually glad that Francis had stolen the books.
"That's not the point!" he complained. "That bloody frog is always pulling stupid pranks like this!"
"But he's not here right now, so what's the point in getting so mad?"
"There is a boy just like him here, so it doesn't make much of a difference," Arthur shot back, but Mint's sense got to him; his anger visibly began to subside.
"Let's find a store somewhere tomorrow and buy some more cookbooks. It'll be fine, you'll have plenty of time to practice your cooking on Wednesday."
"I was not practicing, I simply felt like baking some scones," Arthur insisted, crossing his arms stubbornly. Mint was starting to feel like his personality was beginning to revert along with his body.
"Of course, of course."
"Mattie! You gotta help me!"
The boy in question looked over his book at his brother. "What do you want this time, Alfred…" He trailed off as he looked in horror at the kitchen.
"You're the cook, not me! How do you do this?" Alfred asked, sounding almost desperate.
The entire kitchen was in disarray. There were messy bowls and plates all over the counters, and bits of food were speckled around them. Matthew couldn't even tell what it was that Alfred was trying to make; there were so many different things in the bowls that he couldn't figure out how they could all be in the same dish. The blender, the mixer, and the food processer were all out, and, like everything else in the room, they were covered with food. Alfred had only been in the kitchen for half an hour or so after they had finished their zombie-slaying marathon (Matthew had gotten more points than his brother), so how had he managed to make this kind of a mess in such a short time?
"What the heck did you do in here? Mom and Dad are going to be furious!"
"I didn't mean to! I was just trying to cook something!"
"Cook what, exactly? I can't even tell what you were trying to make, and that's saying something." Although Alfred was not a very good cook and mainly relied on other people's cooking and take-out, Matthew was actually fairly good at cooking.
"Well, I was trying to make a few different things, but none of them worked out very well. Um…help?" He grinned weakly.
"You can't always rely on me for help, you know," Matthew remarked, but he agreed to assist his brother nonetheless. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long; he had been in a good spot in his book.
"You are an amazing brother," Alfred said, flinging his arms around him.
"Of course I am." Matthew brushed him off. "What are you cooking for, anyways?"
"I challenged the new kid to a cooking contest!"
Matthew raised his eyebrows. "You never cook, but you challenged someone to a cooking contest?"
"But he's British!" Alfred protested. "There's no way he could be good at cooking."
"You're American," Matthew pointed out. "Americans aren't exactly world-renowned for their cooking skills in general."
"You're good at cooking."
"Well, I'm technically a Canadian." It was true; their parents were both Americans, and Alfred had been born in America, but Matthew had been born in Canada during a family vacation. His mother certainly hadn't expected to go into labor nearly a month before her due date, which is why they hadn't been at home, but because of it, Matthew had ended up with dual citizenship. But he preferred to just call himself a Canadian, because let's face it, Canada was awesome.
"Same difference."
"You just wish you were Canadian. So what do you think you're going to make for this contest?"
"Um… That's kinda one of the things I need help with."
"You don't even know that yet? Then why'd you start a contest?"
Cause that guy's obviously evil and I need him to tell me his secrets. "Kiku thinks we should try and make friends with him, and a friendly contest could help him feel more welcomed, right?" Hey, it's not like that was a lie, exactly. Everything he'd said was the truth, he just hadn't told all of it.
"That's…actually really nice of you, Alfred. What are you up to?"
But darn it, Matthew knew him too well. "Why on earth would you think I am up to something, dearest brother of mine?" he asked in the most innocent voice he could manage, which really didn't end up very innocent sounding. In fact, it even more affirmed Matthew's suspicion that he was planning something.
"You're always up to something."
"Not always."
"Pretty darn close, then."
Alfred pouted. "Is that anyway to talk to your favorite brother in the whole wide world?"
"You're my only brother in the whole wide world."
"Oh, you know what I mean," he said, sighing exaggeratedly. "Whatever. So what do you think I should make? I'm completely out of ideas, really!"
"Well… Have you considered hamburgers?"
Alfred just stared at his brother. Then—
"Oh my gosh, Mattie, you're a freakin' genius! How did I not think of that before?"
"I haven't the slightest idea, to be honest. Wouldn't most people usually consider their favorite food first?"
"Yeah, well. Um, one more thing. How the heck do you make a hamburger from scratch?"
Matthew just gaped at his brother. He didn't even know how to cook that much? At this rate, it looked like he might not be able to get back to that book very soon after all.
The next day, Arthur still wasn't in the best of moods. That bloody frog always managed to annoy him, even if they weren't actually in the same world anymore. And it did not help that Mint had tried to be helpful and wake him up that morning. Normally, he wouldn't mind waking up to something other than the blare of his alarm clock, but when said alarm clock was bashed into the side of his head instead, it was hard to wake up nice and cheery.
Of course, Mint had apologized constantly since (she'd really just been trying to put a spell on it to play his favorite music but it had somehow backfired, she'd said), but the damage had already been done. Not much would be able to get him out of this foul mood now. In fact, it was continuing to decline. And —
"Arthur, please please please please please please please please please forgive me?"
—it wasn't too hard to figure out why.
"Just drop it already," he growled.
"I'm sorry, I really really really am!"
"Mint!" he barked. It was a good thing he was still in his house; otherwise he would be drawing an awful lot of attention to himself at the moment. "Please, just leave me alone for a while! You are not being much of a help." He realized that his tone was unnecessarily harsh, but for the moment, he did not care.
"Yes, yes of course, I'm sorry!" she squeaked. She quickly flew out from the room.
Arthur sighed. It wasn't her fault, not really. He realized that much, at least. He just didn't want her around while he was feeling this way… Just in case. And maybe being alone and free of distractions would make it a little easier to calm down, at least to a manageable level. He truly hated his spontaneous temper, sometimes. And he didn't want to direct it towards the one person whom he knew and felt he could trust in this world.
But now that he thought about it, it was surprising that Mint's magic had not worked right earlier. To cause a noise-making device to emit a specific sound was by no means a complex spell, and he would fully admit that the sprite was much better at magic than him. Was something wrong with her? Or maybe something was wrong with the magic in this place in general. He recalled that his own spell had failed earlier when he had tried to unlock his bedroom door. It had taken him bloody forever to put the doorknob back on!
Was something messing with their magic here?
As Arthur thought, his eyes wandered around the room, and they eventually landed on the large grandfather clock in the corner. At first he simply traced along the intricate carvings with his sight, but then he looked further up and actually noticed the time.
"Bloody— That stupid school starts in twenty minutes!"
He jumped up from his seat and frantically searched for his backpack.
"What? Seriously?"
Alfred looked at Kiku with what appeared to be great depression as the Japanese boy explained the situation to him in the courtyard before school.
"Yes, I apologize greatly, Alfred-san."
Kiku had asked his family about using their house on Thursday, and though they were indeed pleased that he was trying to make new friends, his parents did not want him using the house while they were gone. It was not that they did not trust their son; in fact they trusted him a great deal. It was more the fact that Alfred would be there. They had many fragile items in their house, after all.
"Great, what are we going to do now?"
"Ah, my older brother did have a suggestion. You could both prepare your food beforehand and bring it to the park."
"Aw, that's not nearly as fun though."
"Regardless, it is better than you both trying to cook using the same oven and bowls and the like."
Alfred blinked in surprise. "Oh, I didn't even think about that."
If Kiku weren't so careful about his appearance, he would have hit his forehead with his palm at that sentence. "Alfred-san, please pardon me for asking, but how much thought did you put into this contest before you asked Arthur-san about it?"
"Um… Like fifteen minutes?"
"Ah, that explains a lot."
Alfred was going to ignore that. "So what park should we meet at then?"
"Perhaps Itoko Park? That is fairly well known, and close to the school. We do not know where Arthur-san lives, so something fairly central would work well."
"Alrighty then! Itoko Park at five! I'm totally gonna win this!"
Kiku had the feeling that Alfred was much more interested in winning than helping Arthur get used to a new school at all.
The bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. "Well then, Alfred-san, I will be seeing you at break." He bowed slightly in farewell and started walking towards his Biology classroom.
"See ya later, Kiku!" Alfred waved as he went off to his own first period class.
Arthur barely made it to Biology before the bell rang and cursed yet again that bloody spell that had forced him to become a student. He was not used to this kind of a schedule yet! He felt that someone like Ludwig would have a much better time fitting in at a place like this, the way he was always so obsessed with schedules. At least the teacher didn't appear to be there yet.
As he came in the classroom, Arthur took his already regular seat next to Kiku. "Good morning, Kiku," he said. Even if he was in a bad mood, that was no reason not to be polite to somebody who was uninvolved.
"Ah, good morning to you as well, Arthur-san."
"Oh, that's right," Arthur said, remembering something. "Alfred said you would give me your address for that bloody contest of his?"
"Yes, well, he, ah, decided to change where it will be at, for convenience's sake."
"He didn't ask you beforehand if your house would work, did he." Arthur didn't say it as a question, but as a statement.
Kiku was surprised. Arthur caught on quickly. It was certainly a nice change from having to explain everything like he had to do with Alfred all of the time.
"Well, no, but we agreed that the park would work fine. However, Alfred-san told me to tell you that you would need to cook your food beforehand, as parks tend not to have well-equipped kitchens."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected such dry humor from the usually serious looking boy. "That's fine by me. What park?"
"Itoko Park. It is nearby this school. I assumed that you would still be new to the area, and I am not sure where your house is, so I took the liberty of choosing a place that will hopefully be somewhat nearby for you." Kiku handed the Brit a piece of paper with a map of the area around the school printed on it.
"Oh… Thank you for that."
Kiku bowed in response, though he was still in his chair. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something more, but the teacher chose that time to suddenly rush into the classroom.
"Sorry I'm late, class," he said as the noise from the students died down. "There was a teacher's meeting this morning, and it ran a bit long."
Kiku quickly closed his mouth and turned toward the teacher, blushing slightly for some unknown reason. Arthur figured he just didn't want to get in trouble with the teacher, so he turned toward the front of the classroom himself. They would have plenty of time to chat later, after all.
He absentmindedly noticed that Mint was not in the classroom. He prayed she was not getting into trouble, then directed his attention back to the teacher.
Mint had chosen to stay at home that day, actually. There were some things that she needed to test out, and since Arthur wouldn't be home for a few hours, this was the perfect time to try.
For one thing, she was very confused as to why her spell hadn't worked that morning. It was a pretty simple spell, but it had ended up completely wrong. How had a spell to make sound turned into a spell for movement? The two types were nothing alike, so she couldn't have accidently switched them or anything, not without noticing quickly.
Poor Arthur. She really was sorry, even if she had no idea how it'd happened.
But at the very least, she could run some tests. She'd managed to bring the alarm clock down to the living room, heavy to her as it was. She supposed she could have tested it in the room it was already in, or used something that was already downstairs, but she didn't want to wreck Arthur's bedroom while he was away, and she figured it was best to test the exact thing her magic had failed on.
No, no! She didn't fail. She was sure that she had cast the spell right. There was something fishy going on here. And she didn't just mean the lingering smell of the fish scones that Arthur had attempted to bake the night before.
…don't ask. She didn't know why either.
She put the alarm clock in the middle of the room, and prepared the spell that she had used that morning. Just like before, it instantly shot forward a few feet, and instead of music, it emitted a sort of screeching noise that made Mint clamp her hands over her ears and spew a string of curses in her native language.
Just what was causing this? She couldn't feel any anti-magic buffers around, and she'd double-checked her spell just now to make sure it was the right one. Was this another result of that spell that Arthur had cast? Even though she knew a considerable lot more about it than Arthur did himself, even the Fay did not know everything this spell did. It wasn't used often, and it was tricky to get out of.
Well, she'd just have to keep trying and experimenting to try to figure out just what was going on. She couldn't stand mysteries, and she felt like this one was taunting her in the face.
"Mystery, you are going down," she muttered to herself, and prepared to cast the spell again.
"Is he gone?" Kiku asked, his anxiety slipping out through his voice as he tried to catch his breath.
"Relax, dude," Alfred said, trying to calm his friend. "I'm pretty sure we lost him. Besides, he'll probably never find us here in the library. I bet he doesn't even know this school has one!"
Hetalia Academy actually had quite a large library. Sadly, there were surprisingly few students who actually used it.
Kiku frowned. "Alfred-san, you may not believe it, but Yong Soo does read for pleasure every now or then."
"For pleasure, right," the American said, snorting and causing Kiku to blush.
"W-well, anyways, I am glad that he did not see us come in here, at least. He chases me so often," he said sadly. "But I was hoping that he would not start it at school so early this year."
"The kid's a nut job. Just get a restraining order."
"Alfred-san!" Kiku was shocked. "I could not do such a thing against my own cousin!"
"You're way too attached to your family bonds. Anyways," Alfred quickly changed the subject before Kiku had a chance to retaliate. "So did you tell the Brit about the change in location?"
"Y-yes, of course. But I do not understand why you did not want to tell him yourself. You said that you two have lunch and two periods together, am I right?"
"Yeah, but the sooner the better, right? Besides, I'd probably forget," he admitted.
The American certainly did have a spastic memory, Kiku agreed. "That does make sense, I suppose."
"Of course it does. I'm the hero, so everything I do makes sense!"
Not most of the time, Kiku thought to himself. "Ah, break is nearly over. I do not think that Yong Soo will try anything more for the moment, but all the same, I had best be going."
"Alrighty! Good luck in class!" Alfred watched as Kiku walked out through the library doors.
…and as he was immediately tackled by a certain blue and white wearing Korean.
Seriously, did that guy have a homing device installed in him or something? Quite honestly, at this point he wouldn't be surprised.
Oh well. He should probably try and rescue Kiku. Since he was the hero and all. He just hoped that Yong Soo wouldn't try anything on him as well.
Arthur felt better, but he still wasn't in the greatest of moods. Because for some reason, Alfred, the great bloody git that he was, felt for some reason that the two of them needed to sit together at lunch. Again.
And not only that, but he had called his friends over to sit with them as well. Namely, Gilbert, Ludwig, and Elizabeta.
So instead of eating his delicious meal (he'd decided to bring a peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich that day, one of his favorites) alone and in peace like he had hoped to do, he was surrounded with chatter about some of the most random and somewhat obnoxious things. He really wasn't interested in how Gilbert gave his beloved bird a bath the night before (no, he was not smiling at the boy's overly dramatic retelling of the story), or how Elizabeta had found a very…interesting set of videos on the internet recently. Interesting as in he wanted to make sure that he never saw them. Ever.
So you can wonder why the Brit wasn't exactly overjoyed to eat along with such lovely company. Some of whom had some of the worst table manners he had ever seen. At least Ludwig seemed saner than the rest.
Nostalgia suddenly took hold of him, or perhaps it was more like a case of home-sickness. Everybody in this world was so much like their counter-parts in his own world. If it weren't for the few details here and there, he would be convinced that these really were the same people, and somehow this whole thing was just some sort of intricate practical joke. This really was a spell to start things anew, he mused, tuning out the dunces next to him for a moment. But it just wasn't real. If only he could return home…
He shook his head. No, he had already decided that he would live along with this world for as long as it took for him to get back to his real world. This wasn't his real life, he wouldn't forget that. He couldn't forget that. But it was his life for now, and he would be foolish to mess up this chance.
Alfred noticed his abrupt movement. "Hey, you alright?" he asked.
"Perfectly fine."
And, as he thought about it, he found he truly was.
Woo! Long chapter is long!
A couple notes: that part about why Matthew's Canadian while his brother is American? That's actually possible. My dad was born to American parents while they were living in Canada for a few years, so he got dual citizenship. Which passed down to me, too, which is totally awesome.
Also, Arthur's lunch: this one was based on my mom. She actually loves peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches. I figure it's her British heritage showing through, so I decided that Arthur would enjoy them as well.
Please review, everyone! Reviews are love! Review, and I won't make you eat Arthur's fish scones!