Author's Note: This is my first fanfic! I'm very sorry that this chapter is short, I just wanted to post it... Future chapters will most likely have more written. There will obviously be mistakes in grammar. I'm sorry if I offend anyone with stereotypes... _ Sorry if this story sucks... I am bad at writing .-._.-._.-._.
I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK HOLMES, HETALIA, OR HITMAN JONES! I JUST USED THE CHARACTERS FOR THE SAKE OF THIS STORY!
Arthur Kirkland never thought he would choose a college outside of his country of England, nor did he think he would share a dorm with a very suspicious person.
He had been recently recommended to attend a college in the States. New York City was where the college was. Though he was pleased to be welcomed, it did feel a little…unpleasant…leaving his home.
Arthur was a young man, just the age of twenty-three, and he had always taken an interest in crime investigation. Maybe it had stemmed from the infamous Sherlock Holmes from England, but any mention of a nearby murder case had continuously piqued his interest growing up. Don't get him wrong, he certainly did not support such violent behavior! Murder mysteries had always just been a reoccurring thought in his imagination, from childhood to now.
Around the time of his secondary school graduation, his parents had mentioned of a friend in the investigations team for the NYPD. They had been recently talking with him about Arthur's situation and he had invited him an opportunity to work with him. Along with a view of certain murder scenes and chances to work on the case, Arthur would attend a college to take courses in crime scenes investigations. Ecstatic at the offer, Arthur hurriedly accepted.
Right now was the moment he had been waiting for; the start of his new life and career doing what he loved, investigations.
It all began with a dorm…
Soon after entering the campus, he had used the map provided to locate the dorms. Upon finding his, he had heard the noise of what seemed to be a heavy trunk on the wood floor of the room; along with that, he heard someone whistling a gleeful tune. He took that moment to unlock the door.
Once the door was opened, he noticed a few things. One: There was a man, (presumably his roommate) by maybe the age of eighteen, wearing a white-shirt, black slacks with suspenders, and a bowtie. The man had golden hair and electric blue eyes that sent a chill down his spine. His black-rimmed glasses had been adjusted as he turned to Arthur. Two: There was a gold and navy blue chest on the floor near his feet, which he immediately kicked under his bed once he had noticed Arthur's curious gaze towards it. Three: The room had a distinct white taped line splitting the bedroom…
After a moment had passed with Arthur still in the doorway, the man had held out a hand and given a smile.
"I take it you are my new roommate?" Arthur stared at the hand for a moment before giving his own.
"Yes, my name is Arthur Kirkland. May I ask yours?" Arthur had politely asked. Both of their hands had let go and Arthur's had returned to his side; his other hand let go of the luggage, setting it down on the floor.
"Hmm? Oh, my name is Alfred F. Jones. I'm here to study criminology." Alfred then gestured Arthur to enter the room then pointed to the white line. "See this? This will show you the divide between our personal areas. This side is mine, and that side is yours." Alfred indicated the two sides. His side was the left of the room. No posters or calendars, just a plain wooden desk and his blue sheeted twin-sized bed. The drawers had matched the rest of the furniture.
"Do you have a problem with the arrangement?" That question had snapped Arthur out of his examination of the room.
He quickly responded with a "Not at all!" while shaking his head.