I don't own Hetalia. Hidekaz Himaruya does.

"Arthur, it has come to my attention that you have been skipping school and causing problems for others." Germania gestured to the three members of the BTT, standng behind Arthur, who was sitting in a green chair in front of the teacher/ principal's desk.

Arthur had decided to play innocent as soon as he had been called to the office on a Saturday. "Sir, I don't quite understand what you mean. I know that I called Francis' dick small, but that's all I've done. It was an honest statement that I had been wondering about."

"And what about Antonio and Gilbert? You don't seem to like them, either." he asked skeptically.

Arthur forced his gaze to harden, as if he was remembering something. "With all due respect, I don't like them for the main reason no one else likes them."

Germania showed a look of understanding. Then he cleared his throat. "And what about the classes you've skipped?"

Arthur remained silent. Germania said nothing, looking for a look of remorse or regret on Arthur. After six minutes, when he continued to see nothing, he sighed. "You may go, Kirkland. Francis, Gilbert, Antonio, stay."

Arthur got up, turned his back on the older country, and smirked at the three before him. He left the room after that.

He walked outside, not wanting to go inside on a day as pretty as this. The school was large and all, but it was December and Arthur had explored and over-used every pathway on the school grounds. He needed something new, or he would go crazy.

The only problem was, even though he got all of his memories back, he didn't want to go outside. This city was the city where the incident happened, and though he knew that he shouldn't still be scared of the man, he was. He was out-right terrified of him. He had gotten better since finding out that he was a country, but the chance of finding him- or him finding Arthur - was too great a risk. Maybe he would get Alfred to come with him. Arthur's heart sped up. He really did love him. But America would never love him back. He was straight, and only thought of Arthur as a friend.

He sighed, and went to go find America. He found him in the room, working intently on something at the desk next to the window. He didn't know that Arthur was in the room as said brit went up behind him, looking over his shoulder. Suddenly Arthur blushed, and smacked Alfred over the head. "What the Hell, Alfred? 'My Plan to Get Arthur Drunk'?! Why the bloody Hell would you want to do that?"

Alfred shot up, his hands covering the paper uselessly before him. He turned around sheepishly. "H-hey, Artie! I thought you were going to be gone for a while longer... Was' up?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Alfred," he warned, "don't screw with me."

Alfred sighed sadly. He handed Arthur the paper. "I thought... I thought I could get you to tell me why you don't want me to be your hero if you were drunk." Arthur scanned over the plan. Basically, he was going to spike his tea.

"Have you already done any of this?" he asked in the coldest tone he could come up with. Alfred looked up at him.

"No.."

"Let's keep it that way."

"I wouldn't have had to try to get you drunk if you would just tell me!" he blurted out. England looked down at him with a steely look.

"I'm not going to tell you, Am- Alfred!" America's eyes widened.

"Where did that come from?" he asked, a shadow over his face.

"How am I supposed to know, git?"

"You just are! So where did that come from?"

"Why are you getting so worked up? I stuttered on you name- so what?"

U.S.A. seemed like he wanted to argue, then he dropped it. The bell rang, warning everyone that dinner was ready. He got up and left, pausing at the doorway to look back at Arthur and ask, "Are you going?"

Arthur shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

Alfred left. Once the footsteps outside the room faded away, Arthur went into the small kitchen and opened the cabinet furthest to the left. He took his precious tea out and did the worst thing he could ever think of- he dumped it all out, wincing painfully as he did so. He knew how easily he got drunk. He couldn't risk Alfred already having spiked it. He loved him, but Alfred was expecting Arthur to tell him everything and trust him no matter what. And he couldn't. The Revolutionary War had taken too much out of him. Maybe he'd trust him if they were together, but they weren't.

The brit looked at the time; it was 6:05. If he wanted to leave without anyone knowing, he would have to go now. He wouldn't last until tomorrow, he felt like he was slowly suffocating. He didn't like being in the same place for very long. And the two months he had been at this school was long enough. He needed a break- luckily for him, winter break had started earlier that evening. He would just go visit Oliver for a week. He only needed his black journal and his magic book, since he had bought everything he needed for here when he first came here. He put the two books in a green backpack and went outside the dorm room. He would take a cab to Oliver's.

Alfred wasn't at dinner, either. He was in the garden, hidden from Arthur by trees, looking at a small handheld device that showed him the videos that the secret cameras hidden in every room in the school had taped of Arthur. Nothing useful to report, other than the fact that England had dumped all of his tea out, obviously not trusing Alfred's word. He had reason to, since the tea was, indeed, spiked, but the fact that he didn't trust Alfred made him a little sad. He grit his teeth when Arthur walked out of the dorm room, a backpack slung over his shoulder. Where was he going? As he went down the hall, Alfred had to switch cameras to keep up with him.

But when Arthur went off of school grounds, Alfred didn't have any more cameras. Something was up, that much he was sure, so America followed him from a comfortable distance, making sure not to get caught. Stalking him seemed to be the only way to get information these days. Alfred didn't feel right following his crush, but it was the only way to find out what was happening..

He saw Britain hail a cab and quickly called his own. Once the car finally came, Arthur's had already left, but was within sight. "Follow that car from a distance, please." he ordered the driver, flashing an I.D. for someone very high up in the government. The driver nodded and began the pursuit, expertly stalking the car without being noticed. When Arthur's cab stopped at Oliver's house, the driver went down the street and out of sight, then let Alfred off. As he paid the driver, Alfred smiled. "You did really good. Here, give me your card and I'll see what I can do to get you a better job. Write what you want to be down on the paper.

The driver, a young man, 23 at most, with neat brown hair and brown eyes wrote his job preferance down, smiled at Alfred, and left. Alfred looked at the card. A neat number was printed there, and the word, 'spy' was also there. Alfred smiled and put the card securely in the pocket inside his bomber jacket.

Alfred then walked down the road and onto Oliver's porch. He knew that Arthur was inside, and he also knew that the brit would be angry if he found out that he had followed him. So he pulled his phone out and called Arthur's 2p.

"'ello? This is Oliver speaking."

"Hey, it's me. Alfred. I was wondering if you could come onto your porch for a sec and go for a walk? Without Arthur."

A moment of silence. Then, "I'll be right out."

Alfred stepped back as the door to the big house swung open and Oliver walked out, clearly confused. He was about to say something when Alfred cut him off, whispering, "I need to talk to you. About Arthur."

Oliver began walking to his car. He got in, and waited for America to do the same. Alfred followed, sitting in the passenger side. The car pulled out and they started driving. Once they got a little bit away, Alfred said, "So... Why did we get in a car and drive away?"

Oliver replied without looking at him. "Britain is a talented spy, Alfred. He was listening to us when we were on the porch. The only place I'm sure he hasn't put cameras is this car- it's new."

It was new- it just looked exactly like the old one. America hadn't noticed. "Anyway... I need to talk to you about Britain. Earlier, when he was talking to me, he got really mad, and began to call me America, but changed it at the last minute. Then he skipped dinner, and while he thought I was out, he left and came to you without word."

Oliver took this information in. He quickly glanced at America, then looked back at the road. "Maybe he said it by accident. By reflex, perhaps? The spell on him must have cracked a little because of his emotions."

America nodded, doubtful. "Maybe... But he also knows magic. I saw him summon a portal." he hesitated for a second, then added, "And did you know that he has a gun on him at all times?"

Oliver pulled the car over. "What?! How'd he get a gun?"

Alfred shrugged. "I du'nno. But he got one. And he nearly used it on the BTT, if rumors count for anything."

"That's not good. I take it you noticed which stage in time he's currently in?"

"His punk stage."

"Yes. That's why that's not good. But those aren't the only reasons you asked for a private conversation, are they?"

"No. Something's been bothering me..."

"And what is that?"

"Well... You see... Arthur gets really touchy when I call myself his hero, or when someone gets too close to him. That's actually why he pulled the gun out at France... He was being France. And one day, when I was trying to wake him up, I was shaking him from on top of him and he screamed 'rape'! Then another time, just a few days ago, I was trying to get him to tell me why he won't let me call myself his hero, and he ran away. Later that day, I tackled him when he ran and he started crying. So my question is..." he stared Oliver right in the eyes, not surprised when he saw a very sad expression on his face, "What the Hell happened?"

Oliver sighed. "You love Arthur, right?"

America blushed. "...Is it that obvious?"

"No. But you'd do anything to make him happy, right?"

"Of course." he said without hesitation.

"Then you need to get the truth out of Arthur yourself. If you love him, you wouldn't want him to be angry because you were snooping. What happened... Was very serious, and Arthur's very emotional about it. If you were to confess? That would help more than you'd think. He wants a long relationship, not one tied to his country. One for real."

"But how will I get it out of him?"

"You'll figure it out. Meanwhile, you can stay at my place to get close to him. And," he smiled knowingly, "you might just find the school burned to the ground tomorrow, the very school that was evacuated that very day. Don't worry, I'll tell Germany that you need a month or three."

America grinned. "You're scary, you know that?"

"Yes, yes I do."