"Mwahahaha~ New chapter~

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"Eat it!" Arthur screeched, roaring in laughter, "Ahahah." Jelly was mushed into his hair and dribbling down his neck. He sat on top of Francis with a scone wedged in the Frenchman's mouth. Food flew around them, the teachers had long since given up trying to calm them down and were now hiding behind a barricade of tables, waiting for the students to to tire themselves out.

Most of the students were having much more benign fun -throwing soft foods like apple pie and custard- and roaring in (happy, not malicious) laughter. However, poor Francis was deaf to the world of cheer around him, beating one of his arms against the floor in an, I give! I give! gesture. Green in the face he fought the desire to vomit, knowing it would only result in him drowning in his own fluids. Arthur wriggled the disgusting and possibly dangerous scone further into Francis's mouth, who went from green to white to purple as he gagged and fought for breath.

Two strong arms hurled Arthur off Francis, who spit the scone out first thing. Yao struggled to keep the enraged teen under control, unable to watch Arthur try and kill Francis right there and do nothing. Now, you're probably hoping that Arthur and Yao had hot, angry, passionate hate-sex right there, but no; Yao raised his wok up high above his head, twirled it once and brought it down on Arthur's head- hard. Arthur slumped down to the ground unconscious and Francis stumbled away to puke and wash his mouth out with a bottle of vodka. On his way to the door, as he unfortunately didn't yet have full reign of his reflexes and took Caramel Pudding straight to the head, and fell over sideways.

Alfred pulled Arthur's unconscious body under one of the tables to prevent him from suffering anymore damage, like a stampede or being peppered with escargot.

Now I want to assure you, things like this didn't often happen at Hetalia High, sure, it was an odd school, but things rarely got this… intense. There is in fact someone to blame for all this, not even scapegoating, it really was all his fault, his name is Gilbert. I won't get into the details, but let's just say that Gilbird, Pierre, Francis' boxers and a couple of tomatoes were also involved in the creation of the food fight. It was in retaliation to a jibe from an old rival of his, a senior by the name of Elizabeta, she made a comment that threatened the Awesome's awesomeness, and so he vowed to prove that he was still 'king' of this school.

Nothing says boarding school like a sexuality crisis, right? And Hetalia High was like the school from Hell, or Sparta, that is to say: anything went.

No matter what it was, so long as you could protect your own you were as free as a bird.

Mathew Williams did not consider himself to be one of these people, granted he was the captain of the school hockey team, and he recognised that with a hockey stick in hand people most certainly treated him with more respect. They actually cowered in fear, to be correct, but Mathew was too dense to realise.

What's the word? Meek, that's it, off the ice he was just meek Mathew Williams, and he did not feel strong enough to be open about his feelings.

Sometimes he wished the teachers were more involved…

Thoroughly tired from hockey training he went straight up to his room to sleep and put ice on his bruises, consequently missing out on the chaotic food fight.

Mathew winced, stretching his back, trying to loosen the tightly wound muscles. "Urgh…" he muttered, letting the exiting students go around him like a stream around a rock. Training had been particularly intense last night, he could swear that Cuban exchange student was targeting him for some reason, but that didn't make any sense… he hadn't done anything to upset the large senior. Mathew rolled his shoulders and twisted his head trying to crack his neck.

Light fingers rested on his shoulders, expertly kneading into the sensitive flesh. Letting his head hang, Mathew moaned in appreciation as Gilbert massaged him, by the time he had done, next class had most definitely started. Turning to face his albino classmate, Mathew couldn't help but blush. Just ignore it, just ignore it… maybe if I ignore it it'll go away… "H-Hey, Gilbert, thanks for that…. Um, I feel a lot better. How are you? Yeah…. Heh, you're quite good at giving massages…"

Gilbert saw him glance down awkwardly, noticing his blush he decided it would probably be best not to comment.

"One: no problem Birdie, it's my job to help damsels' in distress. Two: I am quite bored and thoroughly worn out. And three: Yes I am."

Mathew huffed and shoved Gilbert in response to being called a damsel in distress.

Unable to prevent a slight chuckle of amusement, Gilbert pushed back, creating a mini shoving war in the middle of the classroom.

"Merde!" Mathew exclaimed suddenly, startling Gilbert when he saw the time displayed on the wall. He was late. "I'm late!" he wailed, "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late." He kept chanting as he rushed to his next class. Leaving Gilbert standing there, staring at Mathew's retreating form on a mixture of amusement and disappointment.

Welp, this is it for now, folks… I've got a little bit of an idea of what could be done for the next chapter but the current scene I have in my mind won't last too long…

Guys, please review. Is there a way I can shame you into reviewing… say something positive… it would do wonders for my morale…