Hetalia x Reader - Gold Medal Series 2012: Fencing
Fencing. This year it is an elimination. The moment you lose, you're gone. There are no comebacks and no winning after being last after a round, and both Arthur Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy knew that too well as they prepared to face their final opponents, each other.
Francis and Arthur stepped up to the strip, masks already on their faces. They had both made it to the very end, and now, only only would could go further. All the other Olympians (except the French) had one they hoped to do just that, Arthur.
Francis often tormented Arthur during their time at the Olympic Villiage, leaving Arthur disheartened by the end of the day. He would often retaliate to the Frenchman, but he had a plan to beat the Frenchman at the day's event.
"Fencers," the Referee called, "at the ready!"
Both held the hilts of their rapiers in their gloved hands, waiting for the moment when they can begin. Each was wanting the victorious moment of being able to hear "touched" from their own opponent. All they could touch though was the torso area. That's what the game of Foil called for.
"Begin!"
The sound of the weapons slicing the area and meeting each other filled the arena as the crowd cheered on. Francis was hardly giving Arthur anytime to block. The Frenchman was sure to...
"Touched! One point for Bonnefoy!" Francis had gotten Arthur!
"I knew the former delinquent was no match for moi!" Francis chuckled loud enough for only Arthur to hear.
Former delinquent! Arthur thought. You're going to get it now, Froggy!
Again, with rapiers in hand, they took their stances. The referee called out to start, and the sounds of the fight cascaded to everyone's ears. This time, though, Arthur was the one making it hard to block.
"Touched! One point for Kirkland!"
"Don't underestimate me, Frog!" Arthur smirked from behind the mask.
Nerves and anticipation filled the room. It was the final chance to get a point and be the victor. The crowd wanted to know who would get the gold!
"You can do it, Arthur!" a female voice called amid an arena of silence. It sounded familiar, but who was it that called his name? Arthur toward the stands to see a group of girls all silently laughing except for one blushing. Why did she look familiar to him?
Your face was as red as the stripes on the Union Flag. You had just called out to Arthur Kirkland, and being right in front of the strip, you know he noticed your friends and you.
You were a volunteer at the Olympic Village. Many times, you had seen Francis giving Arthur a hard time, and you wanted to see Francis get what he deserved!
Arthur looked to his competitor. He could imagine the smirk behind the Frenchman's mask, a smirk that would tell Kirkland to give up. Determination and adrenaline coursed through his veins. This was it. He was going to win. For Great Britain! For himself! For the one person to cheer for him among all the silenced others.
You were on the edge of your seat as the fight to end it all began. It was a back and forth between the two for a good amount of time. One advanced, and the other blocked. Then, it went the other way around. It didn't look the end was sight until...
"Touched! Arthur Kirkland wins!"
You jumped and cheered with your friends as he removed his mask and took his place on the podium to receive his medal! Pride and newly found confidence displayed themselves clearly on his face. He had gotten just what he needed.
You were cleaning tables in the Olympic Village's Food Hall. Only a few athletes were in there still eating. Alfred Jones was busy vacuuming in all the hamburgers he bought at the McDonald's. How that man could eat all of that and still be in an amazing enough state to be a weightlifter astounded you.
"Excuse me," a British voice knocked you away from your thoughts. You turned to see Arthur Kirkland. You hoped he didn't recognize you as that single fan.
"Yes?" you asked.
"Why did you cheer for me? I mean Francis talks to you often, doesn't he?"
Well, your hope was gone. He did recognize you, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell him why.
"I've been in your spot," you began. "I was harassed just like you. It disgusted me that Francis would talk to you the way he did. I knew it was hurting your confidence too. I wanted you to be confident and encouraged. You needed to know that there was someone out there who was cheereing you on." Arthur smiled.
"Well, love," he smiled, "it worked. After I heard you, I suddenly felt determined to win for Team GB, for myself." He looked away for a second as a blush danced across his face. "I felt determined to win for you, and I wanted to thank you."
"Y-you're welcome," you stuttered, blushing yourself.
He pulled out his phone and began to type and asked for your name. You told him, then asked him why.
"Put your number in," he said, handing you the phone.
"Um...okay," you said confused, doing as he asked.
He then said he'd see you later as he got a phone call from his family and let you get back to work. After about thirty minutes, you got a text message.
Hello, love. It's Arthur. Would you like to get dinner with me tomorrow? I want to thank you properly for being golden.
You replied.
I would love to.