[Fic Fill] Skirting the Problem
TITLE: Skirting the Problem
AUTHOR/ARTIST: abarero
RECIPIENT: hinatasakura
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Ensemble Cast. Prussia/Switzerland, France/Seychelles, Spain/Romano, US/UK, Poland/Lithuania, implied Germany/Italy, Austria/Hungary, Estonia/Ukraine
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: I had fun writing this, so I hope you have fun reading it!
SUMMARY: Gakuen AU. Prussia knew it was going to be an awesome day when he woke up to find out that France was in charge of the Student Council (temporarily)...
But with Uniform Switch Day in full swing, the girls out for revenge, and Switzerland as his roommate, can he still be the awesomest- skirt and all?
Today was going to be such an awesome day!
Prussia had already planned it all out the night before. The sleeping in through his first period class (Literature was so boring anyways), the excuse he just knew the Principal would buy when he got caught skipping said class (because really, it wasn’t his fault his roommate was a cheapskate who wouldn’t buy an alarm clock!), and an amazing list of pranks to pull on four-eyes Austria during his other classes (like throwing paper planes at the back of his head all during math class).
So what if he didn’t have any after school plans? It’s not like the fact he got banned from all extracurricular clubs and teams last year due to his pranks bothered him any. And sometimes, when they weren’t all out on dates or doing homework, he could go hang out with his friends Spain and France or bother Germany and Austria.
It was totally awesome to hang out by himself most of the evening anyway! Definitely not lonely or depressing or anything like that, at all!
And so, Prussia was all set to kick off his amazingly awesome day of awesomeness… once he managed to fall back asleep. His rather punctual roommate had woken him up when he got up like clockwork at the break of dawn. Normally, Prussia would have told him off for such a thing, but generally speaking, he didn’t like to piss Switzerland off.
Rolling over in bed and trying to doze back off, Prussia started as Switzerland’s voice called across the room.
“Prussia, get up!”
Snoring loudly, he turned over and pulled up the blankets. There was no way he was going to get up now! This was even earlier than when he usually got up for class because Switzerland, the Student Council treasurer, was getting up early for a meeting. Really un-awesome to try and wake him up now…
“Too early,” he mumbled, once again feigning a snore.
Switzerland wasn’t buying it though, his temper rising. “Hey idiot, France wants you to come to the council meeting this morning!”
That got his attention. Blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Prussia blinked up at Switzerland.
“What?”
Switzerland rolled his eyes and held out a note. “This was tacked on the door. It says to bring you along to the council meeting with me this morning.”
Prussia knew Switzerland wasn’t the type for pranks (too expensive and a waste of time in his book), and so it could only mean one thing…
“Is the Student Council President on his trip this week?” He asked hopefully, starting to sleepily yank on clothing.
Averting his eyes, Switzerland looked as his watch. “Yes. England has gone with the Science Club President to represent our school’s entry in the National Science Fair competition.”
Prussia snorted, “Oh is that what England and America are calling their school-funded date to D.C.? Man, we’re gonna never let them live that down once they get back. Ha ha.”
“The meeting is starting in two minutes, so hurry up,” Switzerland snapped. He also, like pranks, really had no use for gossip either. “I’m going ahead.”
Yanking a slightly rumpled dress shirt on and throwing a tie around his neck, Prussia stumbled out the door after his roommate. Little did he know, his day was about to get even awesomer than he’d planned.
--------------------------------
“Bonjour my fellow council members and…” France’s eyes slid to the two others, “friends. Today we embark on a vast improvement to our council- I shall be acting Student Council president from now on.”
“Or more specifically, until England returns from his trip,” Switzerland corrected. He was probably the only person there who preferred England as president, if only for the fact that England wasn’t as apt to spend their budget as frivolously as France did.
Seychelles, who had been recruited by England as secretary, seemed to be scowling less this morning. Probably because England wasn’t ordering her around to do various council tasks and France was too busy reveling in his new position as president to inappropriately grope her.
“As acting president, I am now appointing Spain as my vice president and Prussia as our hall monitor,” France spoke up. Switzerland and Seychelles both started to interject, but he cut them off. “Which since they are temporary posts do not require a vote, as stated in the rule book, page 152.”
Switzerland scowled and Seychelles huffed, both of them not exactly pleased but already used to England using various obscure rules to get what he wanted from time to time.
“Oh, do I have to do anything specific as vice president?” Spain asked, sitting up a bit in his chair.
France waved him off with a hand. “Non, mon ami. You just need to back me up if I need support.”
“Which doesn’t require PDA, despite what he tells you,” Seychelles butted in.
“Ah, my little island flower…” France began, his hand reaching out for her. He was abruptly cut off by her file folder which she held up to block him.
“Which is in the rules, page 69.” Prussia, Spain and France snickered at the number, and Seychelles just spoke louder. “A page I’m certain our wonderful Principal also finds more amusing than he should.”
Spain chuckled, “But Mr. Rome is a great principal!”
“Yeah, he has great sense of humor. I probably wouldn’t be banned from stuff if it wasn’t for that totally un-awesome Vice Principal,” Prussia added with a scowl.
Seychelles blinked in confusion. “But isn’t Mr. Germania your grandfather?”
Prussia pouted, “Yeah, but he’s totally not awesome. Major stick-in-the-mud like my brother.”
“As I was saying,” France cut in, trying to get them as back to business as he could, “Spain will be acting VP, while Prussia will be hall monitor. That should be all, so the meeting can now be…”
“Wait a moment,” Seychelles interjected, holding up her file folder. “We have this urgent memo from the Principal to deal with.”
As she handed it over to France, the others noticed the quirk of a satisfied smile on her lips. Little did they know, but Seychelles was about to put them all in their place.
France skimmed over the message and frowned, a serious expression crossing his features. “I see. This is a matter of grave importance. Apparently,” his eyes drifted to Seychelles, “it has been brought to the Principal and Vice Principal’s attention that the girls here have been receiving unwanted…attention as of late.”
Seychelles defiantly stared back at him. “You can’t deny that, France; even if someone is your girlfriend that doesn’t give you the right to flip up their skirt in public. And many girls have caught people looking up their skirts when they walk up the stairs. Even England,” she winced, as if she hated admitting this, “agreed with me when I mentioned it to him before his trip. It was at his suggestion that I sent this through the Vice Principal first, since he suspected you would just try to shrug it off as une expression de l'amour.”
“But it is just an…”
France went silent as a sucker-dart went whizzing by his head. Everyone turned to Switzerland, who was wielding the gun comically. The poor treasurer hadn’t been happy when they’d confiscated all his real guns and locked them up at the archery range, so he’d been resorting to unique substitutes ever since.
“Answer me this. Has this been occurring to girls of all class levels?”
The angry glint in his eyes made it clear exactly where his concern lay, namely with his younger sister Liechtenstein, who he was notoriously overprotective of.
France put up his hands. “Non non! I am only aware of it happening in a few rare cases.”
But Seychelles, and now Switzerland, weren’t backing down without a fight.
Flipping to the next page on her clipboard, Seychelles began to list off the incidents.
“Hungary has reported multiple attempts to sneak into her room, Belarus, when asked, says that people often inappropriately stared at her sister’s chest, Taiwan, Kenya and Belgium have all reported incidents in which a certain Frenchman has flipped up their skirts. And a bystander who wished not to be named reported that Liechtenstein was extremely embarrassed when she tripped on the stairs recently and her skirt flew up when Netherlands caught her.”
“He…what?!” Switzerland yelled. The entire room fell silent.
“Hey, I’m sure we’re all just having a bit of fun. No harm done, right?” Prussia joked. Switzerland shot him a deadly glare.
“I will not stand for this treatment of the young women in this school any longer,” Switzerland said firmly. And while his cocked sucker-gun didn’t seem all that threatening, the look in his eyes was enough to scare them all.
Seychelles looked like she was trying to repress a pleased smile as she turned to France and politely asked. “President, if you would please finish reading the issue from the Principals, I’m sure we can develop a method for dealing with this problem.”
France frowned, his eyes skimming back over the note. Finally, he came to the end, which he read aloud.
“I ask that the Student Council adapts a program to help female and male students learn to respect each other better. Please enact this as soon as possible and send details of it through our secretary.”
The smoldering look between France and Seychelles could only be described as a serious challenge with a chance of making out in the near future. Switzerland rolled his eyes, used to their antics. But when France beckoned Spain and Prussia over to him and began to whisper, he had a feeling that this challenge was going to be met head on.
Certainly enough, even their two sane votes could not save Switzerland and Seychelles from the decision the other three reached.
----------------------------------
Germania was worried from the moment he heard Rome excitedly call him into his office. The general rule of thumb, Germania found, correlated anything that Rome was excited about into the category of things that would most likely annoy him profusely.
This was one of those things.
“Hey Germania, how does it look? Showing off my manly legs will definitely make all the lovely ladies feel better, don’tcha think?”
Germania blinked. “Is there a reason you’re in a skirt?”
He had to ask, because it was quite possible Rome just felt like it due to some asinine reason only he himself could comprehend.
Donning a serious expression, Rome postured behind his desk while holding up his small gold plaque that read out Rome- Principal of the World Academy.
“Germania, do you know what this says?”
Repressing the urge to roll his eyes or just to walk out, Germania replied. “It says you’re principal.” He had to refrain from adding “although how you managed to get this job still doesn’t make any sense.”
“Yes!” He said grandly. “And as principal, I must set a great example for the students; our students who have come up with an outstanding solution to the problem that the ladies had submitted to us. We will resolve the issues between our male students and female students by issuing a school-wide uniform switch day!”
Germania looked very warily to the plaid school skirt Rome was now wearing. Fearing that Rome would insist (that as a good example) that he too must wear a skirt, Germania frowned. Well, more so than he was already frowning.
“Rome, I’m not sure that’s a good…”
“Oh don’t you worry! I’m sure it’ll make a point. Plus, those students who wish to opt out can pay the Student Council five bucks to get out of it. Isn’t that brilliant Germania? It’s a fundraising opportunity and a way for our students to understand each other better!”
Germania didn’t answer, already suspecting that Rome had sent out the word to start this insane project immediately. Instead, he just calmly pulled out his wallet and handed over a five dollar bill to Rome.
“Enjoy wearing your skirt, Rome,” he remarked as he turned and walked out of the office.
Rome just called after him, “You should try it Germania! It’s really nice and breezy!”
----------------------------------
Far, far away, in Washington D.C., the competitors in the National Science Fair were being treated to an in-depth tour of the Smithsonian. Everything was going quite well, until England came to an abrupt stop mid-step, causing America to bump into him.
“England, what’s wrong?”
“I just…had a terrible feeling that something awful is going to happen.”
America blinked. “Wha? You have a Spidey-sense or something? Is the Smithsonian about to be attacked by super villains and…”
England held up a finger to America’s lips. “I-Idiot. You read too many comic books. It’s not a bad feeling for here. It’s…I feel as if I’ve left the Student Council in grave danger.”
Grabbing up England’s hand to tug him along with the throng of other students and representatives into the next gallery, America just shook his head. “But England, you left France in charge.”
He glared at the name. “Precisely why I’m so concerned. I know that frog is VP, but that doesn’t mean I trust him not to do something dastardly while I’m away. In fact, I feel as if I should have done anything to prevent him taking control in my absence, given that he will clearly use it to his advantage.”
Shaking his head, America just extended a hand out to rub England’s tense back muscles. “Aww, come on England, chill out. We’re on vacation… well, sort of. Don’t worry about all your Student Council issues and just have a good time. It’s not like it doesn’t have to go through the Principals and the rest of the Student Council.”
Turning to him, England quietly pushed America over into a nook of the hall where they were a bit secluded from the others. With a serious glint in his eyes, he whispered, “America, it’s France. For all I know he’s…I don’t know! He’s found a blasted way or something. Going about banning tea, requiring that dorms be co-ed, or…or…”
America chuckled. “What, Scotland finally convincing France to put the male students in uniform skirts or something just to mess with you?”
England’s expression grew grim. “They would. Oh bollocks. They would.”
And maybe it was England’s dire expression, or maybe it was a sudden chill down his spine, but America had a sinking feeling that perhaps England was right. The school so far away from them, was now in grave danger.
--------------------------------
“You did it? Really?”
Seychelles nodded, a grin threatening to spill over her features. Getting France, and subsequently the Principals, to come up with this idea was only stage one of her plan. And while she didn’t exactly mind France touching her in…err…certain ways, there was a time and a place!
“The Principal will be making the announcement soon, so I’ve got to fill you all in first!”
The group of girls gathered outside their dorms huddled closer as Seychelles lowered her voice.
“First off, they put in a loophole for those who want to cop-out.”
“Damnit!” Hungary swore, earning a bewildered look from some of the others. She giggled and smiled back. “Sorry, continue.”
“But, it’s only if they pay five bucks. Switzerland pressed for it to be a Student Council fundraising thing, even though I bet he’s too stingy to use the loophole himself,” Seychelles clarified. “But really, we’re so lucky France and his friends were stupid enough to suggest a uniform swap day. This is a perfect opportunity to give them a taste of their own medicine. We just have to…make sure some people don’t have five dollars today.”
Belgium grinned. “Well, I’m sure gonna see about stealing my brother’s money if I can.”
“Netherlands in a skirt, that will be hilarious,” Kenya piped up.
Hungary, on the other hand, had started fretting. “Oh Austria will surely pay, I just hope I can find a way to keep him from doing so. Seeing his gentlemanly legs in a uniform skirt would just be so…so…”
“Save it for after hours, sweetheart,” Zimbabwe said with a laugh.
Behind them, Belarus stepped up and several of them parted in her wake, not wanting to anger her. “If I understand correctly, if Russia does not have five dollars, he will have to wear a skirt today, yes?”
Seychelles nodded. “That’s the idea.”
An eerie smile quirked at her lips. “I will have to go rip off the doorknob to his dorm and make sure he does not have a penny then.”
She walked away as quietly as she’d come, her Mary Jane shoes clicking ominously on the sidewalk. The remaining girls exchanged a look.
“Poor Russia, she’s already taken off his doorknob three times this semester,” Ukraine fretted. “But…But…it serves the boys right. I mean, they always…always stare at my…” She sniffed back a few tears and got a steely look, that while not as intimidating as her younger sister’s, still showed that she meant business. “I’ll help you with whatever I can, Seychelles.”
“Great!”
“Count me in too, Miss Seychelles!” Taiwan said, edging up to the group, her flowered ribbons bouncing her hair. “I mean, it would be awfully funny to see Hong Kong in a skirt and France is always flipping mine up and…”
“Hey, wouldn’t that just serve ‘em?” Belgium cut in. “If we took those pranksters and perverts and flipped up their skirts?”
Seychelles grinned; glad to see her fellow female students would be in on stage two of her plan. “Exactly my idea. But first we need to make sure as many of them as possible have no money today.”
“Hey, why don’t we pick their locks?” Kenya suggested; a mischievous grin on her face.
Holding up a ring of keys, Seychelles jangled them. “Already ahead of you there, Kenya.”
“How did you…” Zimbabwe began. She shook her head. “No way! Those are the keys to the boy’s dorms, aren’t they?”
“Yep,” Seychelles said triumphantly. “I just told France how much I’d love to see him this morning and…well,” she twirled the ring of keys on her finger, “I might have to keep him preoccupied, but otherwise, we’ve got every key we need. A few well-placed distractions - like when all the boys get called out of their dorms to have the uniform skirts delivered to them by the laundry and cleaning staff- and we’ve got it!”
Belgium laughed, “Looks like Russia’s gettin’ his doorknob ripped off for no reason.”
“It would happen in a few days again anyway. Sister always gets a little too…forceful when visiting him unannounced,” Ukraine murmured. “Then again, Russia’s never there when she does mention she’s visiting...”
“So let’s get on our pants and get started,” Hungary cheered. “Oh and if anyone wants…certain photographic evidence of this day, I’ll be selling hi-res glossy prints in various sizes tomorrow.”
Seychelles stood at the head of the group, leader of their attack plan, “All right girls, here’s what we’ve got to do. I need each of you to infiltrate as many dorms as possible, focus on any of the male students who have caused you or someone else trouble in the past first and foremost. I’m going to work on keeping France distracted, can anyone else…”
Taiwan piped up, “I can keep the Asia class students distracted if they come back early.”
“Shall I make sure Sister doesn’t draw too much attention with her…um, violent attack on Russia’s door?” Ukraine asked.
Seychelles nodded. “Yeah, if you can get to her before she gets started, try to get her to use the key.”
“And I’ll take care of the Africa class,” Zimbabwe added. “As long as someone gets Cameroon in a skirt, I’m good.”
“Consider yourself in business there, sister,” Kenya replied, giving her classmate a high-five.
Belgium smirked. “Meanwhile, I’ll make sure to hit Netherlands’s room, and the two next door to him. Won’t leave those boys a penny.”
“I’ll get Austria and anyone else near his room,” Hungary added, an excited blush tingeing her cheeks.
“Um…I can make sure my brother delays the Europe class students returning,” Liechtenstein spoke up meekly for the first time. “As long as someone makes sure dear brother doesn’t lose his money. He’d be really upset if that happened…”
Hungary put her arm around the smaller girl and smiled. “Don’t worry. If you can get Switzerland to keep all those Euro-guys busy, we’ll make sure he can wear pants today if he wants. But I’d really like to get his roommate. Prussia, that damned imbecile, he’s always…”
Seychelles giggled, “Don’t worry; Prussia’s already planning on wearing a skirt.”
The group went silent.
“He said at the Student Council meeting this morning that he’d…he’d…” Seychelles started laughing, “he said he’d be the awesomest guy in a skirt ever!”
At that, the whole group of them broke into peals of laughter, which they quickly tried to stifle as the laundry ladies came to deliver their uniform pants for the day. Little did the school staffers know, but Operation Men in Skirts was about to commence.
------------------------------------------
Ukraine had thankfully caught up with her sister before she’d managed to pull Russia’s door off its hinges. Armed with a key, Belarus promptly went inside and began searching the entire room for any possible money Russia might have hidden. Ukraine had to shake her head at her sister’s determination to see him in a skirt, but she always knew her sister had a soft spot for Russia.
As she waited, she glanced over to the two nearby rooms. One was shared by Poland and Lithuania, the other by Estonia and Latvia. Ukraine nervously tugged at the suspenders holding up her slightly too-big uniform slacks and finally murmured a quiet, “No, it’s not necessary” under her breath. There was no need to take their money, if anything those four deserved a day in which Russia would be mocked and they would have the upper hand on him.
Peering into Russia’s room, Ukraine called out, “Sister, are you almost finished?”
Belarus replied, fairly stoically considering she was holding up a pair of Russia’s boxers in one hand and his wallet in another, “I must check all his drawers in case he has a secret stash.”
Not about to question her when she appeared almost maniacal with glee, Ukraine just nodded and went back to standing watch. That’s when she heard voices drawing closer.
“Isn’t it like totally awesome, Liet? I’ve been wanting to wear a fab skirt for like ever!” Poland said excitedly, twirling his hair around a finger.
Lithuania just laughed nervously, “That’s great for you, Poland. I think I’ll just pay the…”
Poland paused, thankfully blocking others from coming down the hall as Ukraine inwardly tried to think up a quick excuse for her being there. Hands on his hips, Poland looked Lithuania in the eye.
“Aw, Liet really? But I was like totally looking forward to wearing a skirt with you! I mean,” he suddenly turned shy, scuffing his toe across the ground, “We’d like…match like a couple and all and…”
Blushing, Lithuania sighed, “Well I guess since everyone else will be wearing skirts, it won’t be too bad…”
“Like oh my god! You are the bestest boyfriend like ever!” Poland cried, throwing his arms around Lithuania’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You show off those sexy legs, you Lithuanian beast! Rawr!”
Turning an even brighter shade of red, Lithuania opened and closed his mouth a few times in a vain attempt to reply. Finally he managed to croak out a meek, “Err…if you say so, Poland.”
Standing stark still against the wall, Ukraine prayed that none of the four approaching would notice that Russia’s door was slightly ajar. At least, she reasoned, no one was crazy enough to want to be his roommate…
“Miss Ukraine, is something wrong?” Estonia asked, walking over to her.
She nodded meekly, and put her distraction into play. “M-My computer’s been having trouble and I don’t know what I did wrong. Sister says it’s because it’s so old, but I can’t afford a new one so I was hoping you could…”
At that moment, a button popped loose on her shirt and she rushed to hold it closed. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes. She had been hoping that today, the one day she would not be in a skirt, she could be spared being gawked at by male students.
But to her surprise, when she looked up- Poland had already taken Lithuania into their room to put on their skirts and Latvia had already gone into the nearby door to his room, leaving just Estonia. Who, like a very nice gentleman, had stooped down to pick up the button from where it fell to the ground.
“Here,” he said, handing it over without staring anywhere but at her eyes. “I’ve got a needle and thread inside if you just give me a moment.”
“T-Thank you,” Ukraine said with a watery smile.
As he turned to go into his room, an ominous thought struck her. “E-Estonia!”
He poked his head back out. “Yes?”
“Do you and Latvia have the five dollars for today?”
If he was confused by the question, he didn’t show it. “Yes, we were planning on paying it in first period when the Student Council treasurer goes around.”
“You need to give me your money for safekeeping,” she insisted. “I’ll pay on both your behalves, but my sister has taken Russia’s money and if he knows you have money he’ll just make you pay for him and…and…”
Estonia reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to say yes or no, but just nod. I noticed a few other girls coming from around the boy’s dorms, so I have to ask. Are you girls up to something?”
Ukraine nodded ‘yes’ then quickly spoke, “But not to you! O-Or anyone else who hasn’t treated us ill. So please, let me pay for you so Russia doesn’t cause you any problems.”
Giving her shoulder a pat before he withdrew his hand, Estonia smiled. “I’ll get our money then while I get you that needle and thread. Do you really need me to check out your computer or are you just buying Belarus time in Russia’s room?”
With a sheepish smile, Ukraine dropped her eyes to the ground. “Actually yes. I’d been meaning to ask you, but I hadn’t worked up the courage yet…”
“Then I shall get you that money, my sewing kit, and my laptop so I can run diagnostics on your computer. We should have time before first period. Well, with my skills at least.”
Ukraine beamed. “Thank you very much!”
As he disappeared into his dorm to get those things, Belarus emerged from Russia’s room looking victorious. If she noticed her sister’s happiness, she was too overcome by the thought of Russia soon to be in a skirt to say a word about it.
------------------------------------------
Being hall monitor was so extremely awesome, Prussia wasn't sure what to do with himself. Except he was. Otherwise, he wouldn't be doing his job!
"Hey Switzerland, guess what?" He said smoothly, awesomely, hall monitor-y.
"What?" The treasurer snapped at him.
"I am so extremely awesome that..."
Switzerland glared at him, a glare that clearly warned him not to finish that sentence.
Prussia pouted. He was just going to say he was so awesome that even Switzerland's grumpy mood couldn't get to him! But now that he thought about it, it was probably not a good idea to mention that while Switzerland was in a skirt. Not that he looked bad in the skirt (and not that Prussia was looking or anything) but simply because it seemed to take his levels of "mostly grumpy" and bump it up into levels of "holy crap, he is going to shoot me!"
What Prussia didn't get is why Switzerland would wear the skirt if it made him so angry, when all he had to do was pay to wear his usual uniform slacks. Leaning up against the lockers as they waited for first period to end, Prussia let his eyes drop to the ground.
Hmm. Maybe Switzerland is just feeling awkward because I look so much more awesome in a skirt than him. Ha ha. Silly Switzerland, no one can match my awesome!
He glanced over to where Switzerland was scowling beside him; he really looked well...very nice. Switzerland wasn't like some of the guys who had disgustingly hairy legs or Russia (who Prussia had noted was trying to hide his fat legs by wearing a long scarf that trailed down) or anything.
"Hey Switzerland..." He said quietly, timidly, and reassuringly.
Prussia's tone seemed to catch him off guard. "W-what?" He replied, but it was more of a question this time and less of an attempt to verbally bite off his head.
He wasn't sure why, despite all Switzerland's ill-placed rage and scowling and stingy cheapskate ways, but at some point throughout the year, Prussia had really come to rather like his roommate. So that's why it really bothered him, made a little knot in his stomach that pinched and pulled at his heart, when he thought about how uncomfortable Switzerland seemed.
"If you're worried about the skirt, why didn't you just pay the five bucks?"
Switzerland flushed - probably in anger, Prussia figured - and averted his eyes. "I am not wasting my money on something that stupid. It's just a minor inconvenience, that's all."
Prussia shrugged. "Well uh...you look..."
Whatever totally-not-embarrassing thing Prussia was about to say though got cut off as the bell rang and the hallway flooded with students. It was time…to monitor the halls.
Dark red eyes skimmed over the students, trying to seek out anyone who wasn’t wearing the opposite uniform. It seemed to him that all the girls had taken the opportunity to wear pants, but as for the guys…
There were a few that he knew Switzerland had checked off as having paid- Japan, Greece, the Nordic Class- outside Denmark who seemed to be having a blast wearing his skirt and driving Norway nuts doing so, Estonia, Latvia (someone had anonymously paid for both of them), China, Germany…
Wait. Prussia’s smirk returned full force. Germany hadn’t paid. Oho, his dear brother was not going to get away while he was on duty!
“Oi, Bro! What’s with the pants?” He called out, stalking across the hallway to catch up with his brother.
Germany glowered at him from behind his glasses. “I’m wearing them, that’s what.”
Prussia laughed, “Doesn’t work that way today, bro!”
Beckoning Switzerland over to him (who obliged with a glare), Prussia leaned over him, pressing his back up against him as he flipped through Switzerland’s clipboard.
“Says right here: UNPAID. Means get yourself out of those pants and into a skirt, mister!”
Just about to rummage around in his backpack for a skirt of Germany’s size, another voice cut in.
“Prussia, it is urgent that I discuss this with you,” Austria stated primly.
But whatever it was he had to discuss was lost to Prussia as he looked up and caught sight of Austria trying to look as snooty and dignified as possible in a rather short skirt.
“Pfffttt. You look like a girl, four-eyes!”
Austria narrowed his eyes and huffed indignantly. “Which I am quite sure was your immature attempt, given that all my money and Germany’s wallet both went missing this morning and you are the room that shares the bathroom with us.”
Feigning a hurt look, Prussia shrugged. “It’s Switzerland’s room too. And most of the guys today had their wallets stolen, so don’t…”
“Prussia, if this was of your doing…” Austria warned, but his tone eased as Hungary came up (hiding a camera in her bag) and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Austria, is everything okay?” She queried.
“This-This hooligan has pilfered my money, forcing me to have no choice but to wear this skirt! He is now trying to do the same to Germany.”
Hungary shot Prussia a glare, then returned her loving gaze to Austria. Prussia wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling that she knew more than she was letting on about the situation.
“Do you really think Prussia is smart enough--” “Hey!” “--to pull off such a horrible prank, Austria?”
He considered this, his ire dying off. “Hmm. I suppose you are correct. Prussia, with his miniscule brain mass, would never be able to think up such a prank.”
“Hey now!”
She smiled warmly at him. “A lot of people are saying the Principal put the cleaning ladies up to it. And Mr. Rome did seem pretty excited about wearing a skirt today…”
“That’s because Grampa knows it’s breezy and fun!” A new voice piped up.
The small gathering in the hallway all turned to see Italy, where he was clutching onto Germany’s arm.
“Neh Germany, why aren’t you wearing a skirt too? You told me I could keep my five dollars for pasta day at lunch, right?”
Germany looked to Italy, his large sad eyes and the beginning of a pout on his lips. He was clearly worried that Germany would demand that money so he could spare himself the embarrassment of a skirt. With a sigh, Germany gave Italy a gentle pat on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about the money, Italy.”
Prussia’s eyes glinted mischievously. He now knew for certain his brother hadn’t and wouldn’t pay the price. Tugging out an aptly sized skirt, he held it up.
“Come on bro! Put it on or by the power invested in me by the Student Council, I’m depantsing you!”
With as serious an expression one could manage in this sort of situation, Germany took the skirt from Prussia and glanced around for the nearest boys’ restroom.
“Fine. Mark me off on your list or whatever.”
Italy looped his arm through Germany’s as they walked off, reassuring him, “It’s okay Germany! I’m sure you’ll look really manly in a skirt! I mean, if anyone could make wearing a skirt manly- it’d be you Germany.”
A bit let down that he couldn’t force Germany into the skirt, Prussia sighed, blowing out a puff of air right on Switzerland’s neck (who he was hovering behind to reach the clipboard again).
“B-Back off, moron.”
Prussia did as asked (for once) and took a step back. It looked like Austria had had enough of them and had excused himself, Hungary trailing after him and pulling her camera back out. Prussia frowned in confusion. He didn’t remember Hungary being a part of the photography club…
“If that’s all, we’d both best get to our second period classes before we’re too late,” Switzerland grumbled.
Prussia glanced up at the few students still milling about the corridor and shrugged. There was no one else left to go after, for now…
“Hey Switzerland, I’ll walk you to your class.”
He wasn’t sure why he offered, but Prussia figured it was just so he could skip out on his next class a little longer. The fact Switzerland still seemed to be in a bit of a sulk over the whole skirt thing just made it a little more of a reason to skip class. I mean, he should awesomely cheer him up first at least!
Switzerland glared, which Prussia figured he was doing in lieu of asking ‘What’ this time. But Prussia wasn’t fazed.
Picking up his backpack, he threw his arm around Switzerland’s shoulder and veered them off down the left hallway.
“Oh come on, it’s basically in the same direction as mine and we look way awesomer in our skirts together.”
Switzerland coughed, a bit of red rising up to his cheeks. Poor guy, Prussia thought to himself, this whole skirt thing had really made him uncomfortable.
Quietly, Switzerland grumbled out.
“Fine, stupid. But…”
“No buts! I’m going to…”
“But,” Switzerland said forcefully, shoving himself up under Prussia’s arm to make a point, “our classes are down the other hallway, moron.”
“O-Oh yeah. The awesome me totally knew that! Ha ha.”
---------------------------------
The plan had, so far, gone off without a hitch. The majority of the male student body was all in skirts, most of them receiving snickers and odd looks throughout the day, and it was nearly time for the third part of the plan to commence.
Seychelles could hardly wait.
It was the free period many of the students had at the end of the day, still technically part of the school day (so no running off to dorms to get out of skirts first) but still pretty laid back in terms of adult supervision. This meant a good portion of the junior class was all in the cafeteria for a “study hour,” which always equated to talking and hanging out and no real studying going on unless you counted couples making out when they thought teachers weren’t looking.
This is where it would all culminate for the trio of pranksters that so often plagued the female students with their antics. They just…didn’t know that yet.
Seychelles’s first distraction was right on cue, whether he knew it or not. Spain’s boyfriend was a volatile force on a good day, so she’d counted on that being heavily amplified when required to wear a skirt.
Lucky for her, she was right.
“Damnit Spain! People are staring,” he swore, tugging his skirt down again.
Spain just smiled. “That must be because you look so cute today, Romano!”
The look he got for that comment was downright deadly. “I knew you rigged this, bastard! Get your disgusting friend to pass this on the one day I need my money for something else. Che.”
Blinking in confusion, Spain tilted his head to the side. “What did you need your money for?”
“It was fucking pasta day at lunch, you dimwit!” He roared, trying to flip the table before realizing that a bench loaded down with five people’s weight wouldn’t budge.
“But I thought you said the cafeteria food was all gross.”
Seychelles had to roll her eyes. Dating France, she’d grown quite accustomed to Spain and Romano’s violent bickering. Well, violent on Romano’s part at least…
“No! God! You know that Rome makes sure the fucking pasta is decent. That’s why I’ll eat it.”
Spain nodded. “Oh yeah, I remember now. So is that why you spent your money on pasta instead of on not wearing a skirt?”
“Yes,” he hissed out. “Which was clearly all part of your evil plan to get me in a skirt, bastard!”
Looking over to France, Spain asked, “France, was that why we had uniform switch day? I thought it was for understanding the students of a different gender better.”
France, who was doing his own sort of understanding of Seychelles’s slacks covered thigh, turned on his charm in response. “Oui, of course. It was all for education and understanding, no evil plans involved.”
“See Romano, it’s for understanding!”
“Understand this, dumbass!” He shot back, giving Spain a shove.
As usual, Spain just laughed it off and tried to put his arm around Romano, which at first was rejected and only after about five times of having it shoved off, did Romano huff and let it stay.
Seychelles and Prussia both stifled a snicker, so used to Romano doing things like this. As for France, he was preoccupied with another matter entirely.
“I must admit, it is almost more tantalizing to have you in pants,” he purred into Seychelles’s ear.
She had allowed France to pull her into his lap, partially because well…she didn’t mind being there too much, but also since she needed him thoroughly distracted to pull off the last part of the plan.
“Maybe I should wear them more often, oui?” She asked right back, one of her pigtails sliding forward over her shoulder as she leaned in towards him. “Or are they tempting you too much with what you feel but cannot see, hmm?”
France smirked at her tone and leaned in closer as well, letting her wrap her arm around his neck. “Pray tell, ma chérie, what do you think of my current attire hmm?”
Seychelles hummed, as if in thought, and peered over France’s shoulder to see if all her players were in place.
Prussia, who was sitting on the end of their table, was mumbling to himself about ‘having yet another awesome day,’ Spain was distractedly staring at Romano, who was shooting him daggered looks, and France was…well, very distracted with his hand in between her thighs. A row over, Hungary gave a thumbs up that was the signal for their stage three to commence.
It was time for the pièce de résistance.
“Your attire…” Seychelles murmured seductively, letting her lips brush against France’s cheek without quite touching.
“Is quite…” She reached behind him and deftly popped loose the button on his skirt.
She shot a wink across the hall to Belgium who rolled a pencil across the floor to her. Seychelles just smirked at France, slinging her leg around and standing up to step behind him. As she traced a hand over his shoulder, she bent (seemingly to pick up the pencil) and popped Spain’s skirt button loose as well.
“I must say, it’s quite the look for you…France,” she murmured huskily in his ear.
As she had hoped, this got him to turn around towards her; and she used the last moment when he was turned away to quickly get Prussia’s button as well before standing up with the pencil in her hand and an innocent look on her face.
“I must say, it is… c’est magnifique,” she finished, holding out a hand to France, who stood to meet her.
But when he stood, his skirt slid to the ground revealing silk boxers covered in red roses. The laughter began.
“Ah, pardon moi. Though I suppose, if you liked me in a skirt, this must be almost unbearable for you…Seychelles,” France asked, wrapping his arm around her and letting his hand dip around the curve of her behind.
It earned the usual reaction- Seychelles’s hand smacking across his face.
“Oh, I’m so sorry France! I just…I just reacted and…”
As the two ran through their usual routine of apologizing, France getting too frisky again, and Seychelles smacking him again- Spain stood up as well to try and get them to make peace.
This led to the second round of laughter from the crowd as his tomato covered boxers were revealed to all.
Spain just blinked, and turned to his boyfriend, “Is there something wrong with my boxers, Romano? You’ve always said they were cute.”
“I never fucking said they were cute, bastard!”
And that set off the second bickering couple, leaving just Prussia to join the throng.
But no one had expected Prussia, the self-proclaimed Mr. Awesome, to have such…unawesome boxers. They’d expected black eagles or at least text reading ‘AWESOME’ across his ass.
And so the deafening moment of silence in which everyone stared was quickly replaced by the loudest laughter of all.
“Didja ya’ll see that? He’s got little baby chicks with pink bows!”
“That’s totally not awesome!”
“He’s always teasing us about having lacy underwear and he wears those? Talk about girly!”
Prussia turned bright red, yanked up his skirt, and ran from the cafeteria. Seychelles, who had finally calmed down (despite leaving two handprints on France’s cheek) saw Hungary giving her a wink and she knew that there’d be photos of it in the morning.
A little part of her wondered if perhaps she’d gone too far, but the fact was she and so many of the other girls had been subjected to the same or worse from the three of them. It was time for them to know how it felt.
She glanced off after Prussia (Romano was still yelling at Spain to put his skirt back on) and worriedly looked to France.
“Is he going to be okay?”
France sighed, “It seems the prankster cannot take a prank, oui?”
Seychelles flushed, realizing France had caught on to her ploy.
“I…I didn’t…”
“If you really wanted to get me out of my skirt, ma chérie...”
“France…”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Do not worry. I am sure he’ll be fine.”
She let France pull her closer since he was actually keeping his hands above her waist this time. It seemed (even if it was momentarily) he could learn a lesson or two.
“I hope so. Now put your skirt back on, pervert.”
-------------------------------------------
The day could have, in Switzerland’s opinion, been better in many ways. It had some high points (mostly getting to see Liechtenstein and Belgium confronting Netherlands in a skirt and asking for him to apologize for his previous behavior), some annoying points (mostly involving wearing a skirt himself) and a few things that just would have been nice had they happened differently.
Case in point, he’d just gotten back from an anonymous tip-off that all the missing money from the boy’s dorms was stuffed into an unused locker down the hall near the cafeteria. It meant that Switzerland had to leave his last class of the day early to make sure it got passed along to the Vice Principal so it could all be returned to its rightful owners.
Strangely enough, whoever took it in the first place was at least nice enough to put all of the stolen cash into ziplock bags each labeled with the name of the person it was stolen from.
Given a few little things with his sister that day, Switzerland suspected some of the female students might have been involved. But they hadn’t touched his carefully accounted for wallet, his savings lock-box or any of his few emergency funds stored throughout his room, so he supposed he could let it slide for now. His sister did seem a lot happier at the end of the day, after all.
Just about to get out of his own skirt, Switzerland froze as the door to his dorm went flying open before just as quickly slamming shut.
There stood Prussia, awkwardly holding up his skirt over silk boxers adorned with cute yellow baby chicks, all wearing pink bows around their necks.
Switzerland blinked.
That slight motion seemed to alert Prussia of his presence, and all wide-eyes and panic, he quickly jumped onto the nearest bed and burrowed under as many of the covers as he could manage.
“Prussia…”
“I-I’d like to awesomely be left alone!” A sniffle. “Extreme awesomeness invited only, which is just m-membership me!”
Switzerland blinked again.
“Prussia. You’re in my bed.”
“S-some people just can’t appreciate my awesome, that’s all!” He bellowed over the statement.
But Switzerland wasn’t buying the act. Biting his lip, he glanced awkwardly around the room as if magically someone would show up to deal with Prussia for him. But of course, no one did. He sighed. What was one supposed to do in a situation like this?
The only thing he could think of is how he handled his younger sister when she was upset. Well, Prussia was…well, acting pretty immature. It was worth a shot.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Switzerland awkwardly patted the cocoon formerly known as Prussia. When he leaned down to give the cocoon a sorta-kinda-he-guessed-you-could-call-it-a-hug, Prussia’s face emerged from a tiny hole near the top of the blankets.
“Switzerland?”
He frowned, reiterating, “Moron. You’re in my bed.”
“Well I’m not moving. I’ve already had enough people not appreciate the awesomeness of my boxers for one day!”
Figuring that somehow he’d had his skirt flipped or something, earning the ridicule of his peers, Switzerland’s lips thinned out into an even tighter line.
“Are you crying?”
Prussia turned his face away, and Switzerland swore he heard more sniffles.
“N-No. I’m too awesome for that!”
Quietly, Switzerland settled beside him on the bed and mumbled a quiet, “It’s not like I look good in this stupid skirt.”
Just as quietly, the cocoon mumbled a “Y-Yeah you do.”
His hackles raised, Switzerland did the first and most natural thing to him. He pulled his gun. Er…sucker-dart gun. “What do you mean by that?” He prodded the cocoon until Prussia emerged from it with his hands up in the air.
“I thought they confiscated all of those?”
Switzerland gave a confident but dark look. “No one can confiscate all my guns. Ever.”
The taunting seemed to stir something in Prussia, and his smirk resurfaced. With a grin, he reached over to the dresser drawer and fumbled inside before he pulled out a water gun. “Oh yeah. You mean like this one you keep in the drawer?”
Switzerland still isn’t sure who moved first, but it was fast and it was furious and before either of them knew it they’d toppled onto the floor in their attempts to shoot their roommate first. Finally pinning him beneath him, Switzerland aimed a well-placed sucker-dart right at Prussia’s forehead.
But his victory was to be short lived, as Prussia got him with the water gun seconds later, leaving a trickle of water on the right side of his face.
Prussia started trying to tug the sucker-dart off his head, but the more he tugged the more it seemed to suction to his forehead. With an irritated huff, Switzerland finally swatted his hands away and pulled it loose with a loud ‘pop!’
“Owww,” Prusia whined.
At first, Switzerland was about to tell him not to be such a baby; but on seeing the red welt left behind, he thought better of it. That had to hurt.
Before he knew what he was doing, Switzerland had leaned down and pressed a get-well kiss to it much like he would have done for Liechtenstein.
But when Prussia spoke, the spell was broken.
Sounding slightly winded from their impromptu gun fight, Prussia muttered, “Um…did you just kiss me?”
Switzerland blushed. “I-It’s not like that. It’s just a habit. You see, my sister she...”
Before he could finish, Prussia leaned up and pecked a kiss to the water droplet that had trickled onto the corner of Switzerland’s mouth.
Suddenly, their faces were too close and the room was too hot and Switzerland really wanted to move from on top of Prussia, but he was frozen in place, his heart hammering away.
“Hey Switzerland,” Prussia murmured softly. And somehow this time it didn’t annoy Switzerland at all.
“What?” He replied, but it had no bite to it. It was just a quiet, simple, question.
“I mean it,” he said, expression imploring. “You uh…look good.”
Switzerland felt his face heating up and his temper rising. “…In a skirt?”
Prussia averted his eyes. “Well, not just…that. Generally speaking and all.”
His scowl softened. “You’re being serious for once, aren’t you?”
Chuckling weakly, Prussia hesitantly reached up and put his hand on Switzerland’s neck. “Ha yeah. Strange, isn’t it?”
And maybe it was because he wanted to wipe that slight smirk off Prussia’s face or because he’d gotten his fair share of ridicule when it got out to the school that he slept in a pink nightshirt and only Prussia hadn’t teased him about it once he said it was from his sister, but for some crazy, insane reason- Switzerland leaned down closer until his lips were just about to brush Prussia’s.
“Not that I care what you wear or anything…” he whispered, as if it was some deep, dark secret, “but I…well, the chicks are. They’re…nice.”
Prussia, either because he was so happy someone appreciated the awesomeness of his chicks or because he realized that the chicks weren’t the only thing Switzerland thought was ‘nice,’ beamed. His smile wide and ridiculous and definitely not good looking at all in that brief moment before he closed the space between them, kissing Switzerland full on the mouth.
Switzerland, though he’d never admit it and would go forcefully steal back his real guns and use them on anyone who implied otherwise, decided that this was a much better use for Prussia’s mouth than the usual idiotic things he did with it.
Like laugh. And smirk. And babble on about how awesome he was.
Definitely (not that he was leaning into the kiss or enjoying it or anything) the best option when it came to Prussia and his mouth. Not that he was going to ever repeat this…action. Ever.
When Prussia finally pulled back, he looked pretty pensive, clearly waiting for Switzerland to yell at him or shoot him or at least walk away in silence. What he didn’t expect was just a simple statement.
“If you plan on taking this anywhere, do know that I don’t go Dutch on dates, ever. Too wasteful.”
If possible, Prussia’s returning grin was the most annoying one he’d managed yet.
“Switzerland…really?”
He turned his head to the side, his cheeks pinking. “You’re not talking me out of it. Just accept it or…”
“Looks like dinner’s on me tonight then, ha ha!” Prussia said cheerfully, pulling Switzerland down against him in a hug.
Switzerland floundered against him a moment before just giving up and sighing into Prussia’s neck. “Moron. Let me get up.”
“You wanna change into something awesome for our awesome date?”
Oh boy, Switzerland rolled his eyes. The word ‘awesome’ was back. That wasn’t a good sign.
“I’d rather not be in a skirt,” he snapped.
Prussia laughed and for some reason it wasn’t as irritating a sound as Switzerland remembered it being.
“But you look so aweso--”
Switzerland pecked a quick kiss on his lips, just enough to derail his train of thought, and wiggled loose from his grip to stand up. Holding his skirt in place, he frowned down at Prussia and held out a hand.
“Come on idiot, get up and get out of your skirt.”
Prussia happily grabbed Switzerland’s hand and stood up, giving him a quick one-armed squeeze around the shoulders before he went off to his dresser to find something to wear.
As he turned to his own dresser, Switzerland let the slightest of smiles tug at his lips. Today wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it was even a little bit awesome, Switzerland thought to himself.
Though if anyone ever tried to suggest that he was smiling over Prussia, they’d be shot. Multiple times.
---------------------------------------------
It was very late when America and England arrived back on campus, way past everyone else’s curfew. England said that about mid-afternoon his feeling of dread had dissipated, something America attributed to his amazing Science Fair Project winning first prize.
It was quite an amazing project, England had to admit, some bollocks America called rehydroxylation dating in which he could take archaeological finds of ceramics and date them based on the water weight gained over time. He’d explained the whole thing in detail, practicing his spiel on the plane ride down to D.C. so he’d be ready for the judges, but England pretty much only understood the basics.
Well, science was to America as literature was to him. They each had their strengths.
Though America’s strength was currently bumping a very large and bulky trophy into England’s back as he tried to get the door to their dorm open as quietly as possible; needless to say it wasn’t helping.
Finally, he got the key to turn and they stepped inside.
“Where should I put it England? It’s huge?”
England was about to remind America that it would have to go in the school trophy case sooner or later, but his beaming smile made him stop. It was nice that they’d finally gotten all their relationship differences worked out so he could appreciate moments like this.
“Oh I don’t know, on the end table? Hold on, what’s this?”
It was then that England noticed a small file folder that had been slipped under their door while they had been away. He picked it up warily, his foreboding feeling trickling back. Flipping it over, he was put slightly at ease by the simple script written on the front on a post-it note in Seychelles’s handwriting.
Eyebrows:
The council is fine. There was a bit of a…thing today. But as you’ll see from the detailed report you insisted I write up for you, things turned out all right. Also, unless you want me to tell everyone that you got home early and that you’re skipping classes tomorrow to laze all day with America, you’ll let me have a few days off now and then. Just a suggestion. Rome let it slip earlier when I asked when you’d be getting back.
So bonne nuit and don’t stay up too late celebrating.
- Seychelles
England grumbled and swore under his breath. “Blasted French. She knows I hate that!”
“Seychelles leave a note?” America asked, suddenly at his side.
And still with the trophy, which once again tapped against England’s back.
“Weren’t you going to put that on the end table?”
America grinned, his euphoria still not having worn off, “Won’t fit! What happened today at school? We miss something?”
England, now a bit wary, flipped open the folder and started to edge the first page out. It was a photograph, and he dropped it immediately as if he’d touched a hot iron.
America, still holding his trophy and looking very much like he might like to sleep with the blasted thing, bent over to pick it up. He started laughing immediately.
“Oh man, who managed to get everyone to switch their uniforms? That’s hilarious! Look at all their stupid boxers!”
Mumbling under his breath, “Says the one who has superhero boxers,” England pulled the next page out of the file folder and skimmed over Seychelles’s report.
So the girls had gotten their revenge, Prussia, Spain and France had been humiliated and blast it all- he hadn’t been there to see it.
Squinting at the fine print on the note, he chuckled. “Why am I not surprised…”
“What?”
Tired, England shook his head. “We’ll worry about it later. We still have tomorrow off, remember?”
America nodded, much like an eager puppy. “Oh yeah. Still don’t know where to put my trophy…”
Sliding out of his clothes into his pyjamas, England called over his shoulder, “Well you can either sleep with it or me, so make your choice.”
Within an instant, the trophy had been relegated to the dresser top next to England’s poetry reading championship prize. England allowed himself a covert smile, glad to see that America was able to make that decision quickly. Actually, America wasn’t wasting any time at all. Now detached from his energy-giving trophy, he was yawning and rubbing blearily at his eyes.
After stripping down to his aforementioned superhero boxers and tugging on a tank top, America jumped into bed, pulled back the sheets and beckoned to England. He obliged after grabbing his pillow off his own bed.
As they settled down together, America glanced at the file folder England was still holding.
“I guess your gut feeling was right. At least it ended up backfiring on France, huh?”
“I suppose…” England grumbled with a frown.
“You sad you missed out on all the chaos today, England? I know you love yelling at people to look tip-top and all that silly British stuff.”
He snorted. “Oh hush,” England replied, nuzzling against his side. “I don’t feel that I’ve missed out on anything at all, given our busy day.”
America grinned.
“Plus, it looks like I can get all the highlights later anyway.”
“Really?”
England held up the fine print note, gesturing to the bottom line. America read it and smiled. England was right. Why suffer through all the ridiculousness when you can just laugh at it later?
He tossed the note onto the dresser, where the fine print was illuminated by the moonlight that was tricking in through their curtains.
It simply read: Uniform Switch Day Memories! Get it all in high-res photos or video. Just contact Hungary!
AUTHOR/ARTIST: abarero
RECIPIENT: hinatasakura
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Ensemble Cast. Prussia/Switzerland, France/Seychelles, Spain/Romano, US/UK, Poland/Lithuania, implied Germany/Italy, Austria/Hungary, Estonia/Ukraine
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: I had fun writing this, so I hope you have fun reading it!
SUMMARY: Gakuen AU. Prussia knew it was going to be an awesome day when he woke up to find out that France was in charge of the Student Council (temporarily)...
But with Uniform Switch Day in full swing, the girls out for revenge, and Switzerland as his roommate, can he still be the awesomest- skirt and all?
Today was going to be such an awesome day!
Prussia had already planned it all out the night before. The sleeping in through his first period class (Literature was so boring anyways), the excuse he just knew the Principal would buy when he got caught skipping said class (because really, it wasn’t his fault his roommate was a cheapskate who wouldn’t buy an alarm clock!), and an amazing list of pranks to pull on four-eyes Austria during his other classes (like throwing paper planes at the back of his head all during math class).
So what if he didn’t have any after school plans? It’s not like the fact he got banned from all extracurricular clubs and teams last year due to his pranks bothered him any. And sometimes, when they weren’t all out on dates or doing homework, he could go hang out with his friends Spain and France or bother Germany and Austria.
It was totally awesome to hang out by himself most of the evening anyway! Definitely not lonely or depressing or anything like that, at all!
And so, Prussia was all set to kick off his amazingly awesome day of awesomeness… once he managed to fall back asleep. His rather punctual roommate had woken him up when he got up like clockwork at the break of dawn. Normally, Prussia would have told him off for such a thing, but generally speaking, he didn’t like to piss Switzerland off.
Rolling over in bed and trying to doze back off, Prussia started as Switzerland’s voice called across the room.
“Prussia, get up!”
Snoring loudly, he turned over and pulled up the blankets. There was no way he was going to get up now! This was even earlier than when he usually got up for class because Switzerland, the Student Council treasurer, was getting up early for a meeting. Really un-awesome to try and wake him up now…
“Too early,” he mumbled, once again feigning a snore.
Switzerland wasn’t buying it though, his temper rising. “Hey idiot, France wants you to come to the council meeting this morning!”
That got his attention. Blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Prussia blinked up at Switzerland.
“What?”
Switzerland rolled his eyes and held out a note. “This was tacked on the door. It says to bring you along to the council meeting with me this morning.”
Prussia knew Switzerland wasn’t the type for pranks (too expensive and a waste of time in his book), and so it could only mean one thing…
“Is the Student Council President on his trip this week?” He asked hopefully, starting to sleepily yank on clothing.
Averting his eyes, Switzerland looked as his watch. “Yes. England has gone with the Science Club President to represent our school’s entry in the National Science Fair competition.”
Prussia snorted, “Oh is that what England and America are calling their school-funded date to D.C.? Man, we’re gonna never let them live that down once they get back. Ha ha.”
“The meeting is starting in two minutes, so hurry up,” Switzerland snapped. He also, like pranks, really had no use for gossip either. “I’m going ahead.”
Yanking a slightly rumpled dress shirt on and throwing a tie around his neck, Prussia stumbled out the door after his roommate. Little did he know, his day was about to get even awesomer than he’d planned.
--------------------------------
“Bonjour my fellow council members and…” France’s eyes slid to the two others, “friends. Today we embark on a vast improvement to our council- I shall be acting Student Council president from now on.”
“Or more specifically, until England returns from his trip,” Switzerland corrected. He was probably the only person there who preferred England as president, if only for the fact that England wasn’t as apt to spend their budget as frivolously as France did.
Seychelles, who had been recruited by England as secretary, seemed to be scowling less this morning. Probably because England wasn’t ordering her around to do various council tasks and France was too busy reveling in his new position as president to inappropriately grope her.
“As acting president, I am now appointing Spain as my vice president and Prussia as our hall monitor,” France spoke up. Switzerland and Seychelles both started to interject, but he cut them off. “Which since they are temporary posts do not require a vote, as stated in the rule book, page 152.”
Switzerland scowled and Seychelles huffed, both of them not exactly pleased but already used to England using various obscure rules to get what he wanted from time to time.
“Oh, do I have to do anything specific as vice president?” Spain asked, sitting up a bit in his chair.
France waved him off with a hand. “Non, mon ami. You just need to back me up if I need support.”
“Which doesn’t require PDA, despite what he tells you,” Seychelles butted in.
“Ah, my little island flower…” France began, his hand reaching out for her. He was abruptly cut off by her file folder which she held up to block him.
“Which is in the rules, page 69.” Prussia, Spain and France snickered at the number, and Seychelles just spoke louder. “A page I’m certain our wonderful Principal also finds more amusing than he should.”
Spain chuckled, “But Mr. Rome is a great principal!”
“Yeah, he has great sense of humor. I probably wouldn’t be banned from stuff if it wasn’t for that totally un-awesome Vice Principal,” Prussia added with a scowl.
Seychelles blinked in confusion. “But isn’t Mr. Germania your grandfather?”
Prussia pouted, “Yeah, but he’s totally not awesome. Major stick-in-the-mud like my brother.”
“As I was saying,” France cut in, trying to get them as back to business as he could, “Spain will be acting VP, while Prussia will be hall monitor. That should be all, so the meeting can now be…”
“Wait a moment,” Seychelles interjected, holding up her file folder. “We have this urgent memo from the Principal to deal with.”
As she handed it over to France, the others noticed the quirk of a satisfied smile on her lips. Little did they know, but Seychelles was about to put them all in their place.
France skimmed over the message and frowned, a serious expression crossing his features. “I see. This is a matter of grave importance. Apparently,” his eyes drifted to Seychelles, “it has been brought to the Principal and Vice Principal’s attention that the girls here have been receiving unwanted…attention as of late.”
Seychelles defiantly stared back at him. “You can’t deny that, France; even if someone is your girlfriend that doesn’t give you the right to flip up their skirt in public. And many girls have caught people looking up their skirts when they walk up the stairs. Even England,” she winced, as if she hated admitting this, “agreed with me when I mentioned it to him before his trip. It was at his suggestion that I sent this through the Vice Principal first, since he suspected you would just try to shrug it off as une expression de l'amour.”
“But it is just an…”
France went silent as a sucker-dart went whizzing by his head. Everyone turned to Switzerland, who was wielding the gun comically. The poor treasurer hadn’t been happy when they’d confiscated all his real guns and locked them up at the archery range, so he’d been resorting to unique substitutes ever since.
“Answer me this. Has this been occurring to girls of all class levels?”
The angry glint in his eyes made it clear exactly where his concern lay, namely with his younger sister Liechtenstein, who he was notoriously overprotective of.
France put up his hands. “Non non! I am only aware of it happening in a few rare cases.”
But Seychelles, and now Switzerland, weren’t backing down without a fight.
Flipping to the next page on her clipboard, Seychelles began to list off the incidents.
“Hungary has reported multiple attempts to sneak into her room, Belarus, when asked, says that people often inappropriately stared at her sister’s chest, Taiwan, Kenya and Belgium have all reported incidents in which a certain Frenchman has flipped up their skirts. And a bystander who wished not to be named reported that Liechtenstein was extremely embarrassed when she tripped on the stairs recently and her skirt flew up when Netherlands caught her.”
“He…what?!” Switzerland yelled. The entire room fell silent.
“Hey, I’m sure we’re all just having a bit of fun. No harm done, right?” Prussia joked. Switzerland shot him a deadly glare.
“I will not stand for this treatment of the young women in this school any longer,” Switzerland said firmly. And while his cocked sucker-gun didn’t seem all that threatening, the look in his eyes was enough to scare them all.
Seychelles looked like she was trying to repress a pleased smile as she turned to France and politely asked. “President, if you would please finish reading the issue from the Principals, I’m sure we can develop a method for dealing with this problem.”
France frowned, his eyes skimming back over the note. Finally, he came to the end, which he read aloud.
“I ask that the Student Council adapts a program to help female and male students learn to respect each other better. Please enact this as soon as possible and send details of it through our secretary.”
The smoldering look between France and Seychelles could only be described as a serious challenge with a chance of making out in the near future. Switzerland rolled his eyes, used to their antics. But when France beckoned Spain and Prussia over to him and began to whisper, he had a feeling that this challenge was going to be met head on.
Certainly enough, even their two sane votes could not save Switzerland and Seychelles from the decision the other three reached.
----------------------------------
Germania was worried from the moment he heard Rome excitedly call him into his office. The general rule of thumb, Germania found, correlated anything that Rome was excited about into the category of things that would most likely annoy him profusely.
This was one of those things.
“Hey Germania, how does it look? Showing off my manly legs will definitely make all the lovely ladies feel better, don’tcha think?”
Germania blinked. “Is there a reason you’re in a skirt?”
He had to ask, because it was quite possible Rome just felt like it due to some asinine reason only he himself could comprehend.
Donning a serious expression, Rome postured behind his desk while holding up his small gold plaque that read out Rome- Principal of the World Academy.
“Germania, do you know what this says?”
Repressing the urge to roll his eyes or just to walk out, Germania replied. “It says you’re principal.” He had to refrain from adding “although how you managed to get this job still doesn’t make any sense.”
“Yes!” He said grandly. “And as principal, I must set a great example for the students; our students who have come up with an outstanding solution to the problem that the ladies had submitted to us. We will resolve the issues between our male students and female students by issuing a school-wide uniform switch day!”
Germania looked very warily to the plaid school skirt Rome was now wearing. Fearing that Rome would insist (that as a good example) that he too must wear a skirt, Germania frowned. Well, more so than he was already frowning.
“Rome, I’m not sure that’s a good…”
“Oh don’t you worry! I’m sure it’ll make a point. Plus, those students who wish to opt out can pay the Student Council five bucks to get out of it. Isn’t that brilliant Germania? It’s a fundraising opportunity and a way for our students to understand each other better!”
Germania didn’t answer, already suspecting that Rome had sent out the word to start this insane project immediately. Instead, he just calmly pulled out his wallet and handed over a five dollar bill to Rome.
“Enjoy wearing your skirt, Rome,” he remarked as he turned and walked out of the office.
Rome just called after him, “You should try it Germania! It’s really nice and breezy!”
----------------------------------
Far, far away, in Washington D.C., the competitors in the National Science Fair were being treated to an in-depth tour of the Smithsonian. Everything was going quite well, until England came to an abrupt stop mid-step, causing America to bump into him.
“England, what’s wrong?”
“I just…had a terrible feeling that something awful is going to happen.”
America blinked. “Wha? You have a Spidey-sense or something? Is the Smithsonian about to be attacked by super villains and…”
England held up a finger to America’s lips. “I-Idiot. You read too many comic books. It’s not a bad feeling for here. It’s…I feel as if I’ve left the Student Council in grave danger.”
Grabbing up England’s hand to tug him along with the throng of other students and representatives into the next gallery, America just shook his head. “But England, you left France in charge.”
He glared at the name. “Precisely why I’m so concerned. I know that frog is VP, but that doesn’t mean I trust him not to do something dastardly while I’m away. In fact, I feel as if I should have done anything to prevent him taking control in my absence, given that he will clearly use it to his advantage.”
Shaking his head, America just extended a hand out to rub England’s tense back muscles. “Aww, come on England, chill out. We’re on vacation… well, sort of. Don’t worry about all your Student Council issues and just have a good time. It’s not like it doesn’t have to go through the Principals and the rest of the Student Council.”
Turning to him, England quietly pushed America over into a nook of the hall where they were a bit secluded from the others. With a serious glint in his eyes, he whispered, “America, it’s France. For all I know he’s…I don’t know! He’s found a blasted way or something. Going about banning tea, requiring that dorms be co-ed, or…or…”
America chuckled. “What, Scotland finally convincing France to put the male students in uniform skirts or something just to mess with you?”
England’s expression grew grim. “They would. Oh bollocks. They would.”
And maybe it was England’s dire expression, or maybe it was a sudden chill down his spine, but America had a sinking feeling that perhaps England was right. The school so far away from them, was now in grave danger.
--------------------------------
“You did it? Really?”
Seychelles nodded, a grin threatening to spill over her features. Getting France, and subsequently the Principals, to come up with this idea was only stage one of her plan. And while she didn’t exactly mind France touching her in…err…certain ways, there was a time and a place!
“The Principal will be making the announcement soon, so I’ve got to fill you all in first!”
The group of girls gathered outside their dorms huddled closer as Seychelles lowered her voice.
“First off, they put in a loophole for those who want to cop-out.”
“Damnit!” Hungary swore, earning a bewildered look from some of the others. She giggled and smiled back. “Sorry, continue.”
“But, it’s only if they pay five bucks. Switzerland pressed for it to be a Student Council fundraising thing, even though I bet he’s too stingy to use the loophole himself,” Seychelles clarified. “But really, we’re so lucky France and his friends were stupid enough to suggest a uniform swap day. This is a perfect opportunity to give them a taste of their own medicine. We just have to…make sure some people don’t have five dollars today.”
Belgium grinned. “Well, I’m sure gonna see about stealing my brother’s money if I can.”
“Netherlands in a skirt, that will be hilarious,” Kenya piped up.
Hungary, on the other hand, had started fretting. “Oh Austria will surely pay, I just hope I can find a way to keep him from doing so. Seeing his gentlemanly legs in a uniform skirt would just be so…so…”
“Save it for after hours, sweetheart,” Zimbabwe said with a laugh.
Behind them, Belarus stepped up and several of them parted in her wake, not wanting to anger her. “If I understand correctly, if Russia does not have five dollars, he will have to wear a skirt today, yes?”
Seychelles nodded. “That’s the idea.”
An eerie smile quirked at her lips. “I will have to go rip off the doorknob to his dorm and make sure he does not have a penny then.”
She walked away as quietly as she’d come, her Mary Jane shoes clicking ominously on the sidewalk. The remaining girls exchanged a look.
“Poor Russia, she’s already taken off his doorknob three times this semester,” Ukraine fretted. “But…But…it serves the boys right. I mean, they always…always stare at my…” She sniffed back a few tears and got a steely look, that while not as intimidating as her younger sister’s, still showed that she meant business. “I’ll help you with whatever I can, Seychelles.”
“Great!”
“Count me in too, Miss Seychelles!” Taiwan said, edging up to the group, her flowered ribbons bouncing her hair. “I mean, it would be awfully funny to see Hong Kong in a skirt and France is always flipping mine up and…”
“Hey, wouldn’t that just serve ‘em?” Belgium cut in. “If we took those pranksters and perverts and flipped up their skirts?”
Seychelles grinned; glad to see her fellow female students would be in on stage two of her plan. “Exactly my idea. But first we need to make sure as many of them as possible have no money today.”
“Hey, why don’t we pick their locks?” Kenya suggested; a mischievous grin on her face.
Holding up a ring of keys, Seychelles jangled them. “Already ahead of you there, Kenya.”
“How did you…” Zimbabwe began. She shook her head. “No way! Those are the keys to the boy’s dorms, aren’t they?”
“Yep,” Seychelles said triumphantly. “I just told France how much I’d love to see him this morning and…well,” she twirled the ring of keys on her finger, “I might have to keep him preoccupied, but otherwise, we’ve got every key we need. A few well-placed distractions - like when all the boys get called out of their dorms to have the uniform skirts delivered to them by the laundry and cleaning staff- and we’ve got it!”
Belgium laughed, “Looks like Russia’s gettin’ his doorknob ripped off for no reason.”
“It would happen in a few days again anyway. Sister always gets a little too…forceful when visiting him unannounced,” Ukraine murmured. “Then again, Russia’s never there when she does mention she’s visiting...”
“So let’s get on our pants and get started,” Hungary cheered. “Oh and if anyone wants…certain photographic evidence of this day, I’ll be selling hi-res glossy prints in various sizes tomorrow.”
Seychelles stood at the head of the group, leader of their attack plan, “All right girls, here’s what we’ve got to do. I need each of you to infiltrate as many dorms as possible, focus on any of the male students who have caused you or someone else trouble in the past first and foremost. I’m going to work on keeping France distracted, can anyone else…”
Taiwan piped up, “I can keep the Asia class students distracted if they come back early.”
“Shall I make sure Sister doesn’t draw too much attention with her…um, violent attack on Russia’s door?” Ukraine asked.
Seychelles nodded. “Yeah, if you can get to her before she gets started, try to get her to use the key.”
“And I’ll take care of the Africa class,” Zimbabwe added. “As long as someone gets Cameroon in a skirt, I’m good.”
“Consider yourself in business there, sister,” Kenya replied, giving her classmate a high-five.
Belgium smirked. “Meanwhile, I’ll make sure to hit Netherlands’s room, and the two next door to him. Won’t leave those boys a penny.”
“I’ll get Austria and anyone else near his room,” Hungary added, an excited blush tingeing her cheeks.
“Um…I can make sure my brother delays the Europe class students returning,” Liechtenstein spoke up meekly for the first time. “As long as someone makes sure dear brother doesn’t lose his money. He’d be really upset if that happened…”
Hungary put her arm around the smaller girl and smiled. “Don’t worry. If you can get Switzerland to keep all those Euro-guys busy, we’ll make sure he can wear pants today if he wants. But I’d really like to get his roommate. Prussia, that damned imbecile, he’s always…”
Seychelles giggled, “Don’t worry; Prussia’s already planning on wearing a skirt.”
The group went silent.
“He said at the Student Council meeting this morning that he’d…he’d…” Seychelles started laughing, “he said he’d be the awesomest guy in a skirt ever!”
At that, the whole group of them broke into peals of laughter, which they quickly tried to stifle as the laundry ladies came to deliver their uniform pants for the day. Little did the school staffers know, but Operation Men in Skirts was about to commence.
------------------------------------------
Ukraine had thankfully caught up with her sister before she’d managed to pull Russia’s door off its hinges. Armed with a key, Belarus promptly went inside and began searching the entire room for any possible money Russia might have hidden. Ukraine had to shake her head at her sister’s determination to see him in a skirt, but she always knew her sister had a soft spot for Russia.
As she waited, she glanced over to the two nearby rooms. One was shared by Poland and Lithuania, the other by Estonia and Latvia. Ukraine nervously tugged at the suspenders holding up her slightly too-big uniform slacks and finally murmured a quiet, “No, it’s not necessary” under her breath. There was no need to take their money, if anything those four deserved a day in which Russia would be mocked and they would have the upper hand on him.
Peering into Russia’s room, Ukraine called out, “Sister, are you almost finished?”
Belarus replied, fairly stoically considering she was holding up a pair of Russia’s boxers in one hand and his wallet in another, “I must check all his drawers in case he has a secret stash.”
Not about to question her when she appeared almost maniacal with glee, Ukraine just nodded and went back to standing watch. That’s when she heard voices drawing closer.
“Isn’t it like totally awesome, Liet? I’ve been wanting to wear a fab skirt for like ever!” Poland said excitedly, twirling his hair around a finger.
Lithuania just laughed nervously, “That’s great for you, Poland. I think I’ll just pay the…”
Poland paused, thankfully blocking others from coming down the hall as Ukraine inwardly tried to think up a quick excuse for her being there. Hands on his hips, Poland looked Lithuania in the eye.
“Aw, Liet really? But I was like totally looking forward to wearing a skirt with you! I mean,” he suddenly turned shy, scuffing his toe across the ground, “We’d like…match like a couple and all and…”
Blushing, Lithuania sighed, “Well I guess since everyone else will be wearing skirts, it won’t be too bad…”
“Like oh my god! You are the bestest boyfriend like ever!” Poland cried, throwing his arms around Lithuania’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You show off those sexy legs, you Lithuanian beast! Rawr!”
Turning an even brighter shade of red, Lithuania opened and closed his mouth a few times in a vain attempt to reply. Finally he managed to croak out a meek, “Err…if you say so, Poland.”
Standing stark still against the wall, Ukraine prayed that none of the four approaching would notice that Russia’s door was slightly ajar. At least, she reasoned, no one was crazy enough to want to be his roommate…
“Miss Ukraine, is something wrong?” Estonia asked, walking over to her.
She nodded meekly, and put her distraction into play. “M-My computer’s been having trouble and I don’t know what I did wrong. Sister says it’s because it’s so old, but I can’t afford a new one so I was hoping you could…”
At that moment, a button popped loose on her shirt and she rushed to hold it closed. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes. She had been hoping that today, the one day she would not be in a skirt, she could be spared being gawked at by male students.
But to her surprise, when she looked up- Poland had already taken Lithuania into their room to put on their skirts and Latvia had already gone into the nearby door to his room, leaving just Estonia. Who, like a very nice gentleman, had stooped down to pick up the button from where it fell to the ground.
“Here,” he said, handing it over without staring anywhere but at her eyes. “I’ve got a needle and thread inside if you just give me a moment.”
“T-Thank you,” Ukraine said with a watery smile.
As he turned to go into his room, an ominous thought struck her. “E-Estonia!”
He poked his head back out. “Yes?”
“Do you and Latvia have the five dollars for today?”
If he was confused by the question, he didn’t show it. “Yes, we were planning on paying it in first period when the Student Council treasurer goes around.”
“You need to give me your money for safekeeping,” she insisted. “I’ll pay on both your behalves, but my sister has taken Russia’s money and if he knows you have money he’ll just make you pay for him and…and…”
Estonia reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to say yes or no, but just nod. I noticed a few other girls coming from around the boy’s dorms, so I have to ask. Are you girls up to something?”
Ukraine nodded ‘yes’ then quickly spoke, “But not to you! O-Or anyone else who hasn’t treated us ill. So please, let me pay for you so Russia doesn’t cause you any problems.”
Giving her shoulder a pat before he withdrew his hand, Estonia smiled. “I’ll get our money then while I get you that needle and thread. Do you really need me to check out your computer or are you just buying Belarus time in Russia’s room?”
With a sheepish smile, Ukraine dropped her eyes to the ground. “Actually yes. I’d been meaning to ask you, but I hadn’t worked up the courage yet…”
“Then I shall get you that money, my sewing kit, and my laptop so I can run diagnostics on your computer. We should have time before first period. Well, with my skills at least.”
Ukraine beamed. “Thank you very much!”
As he disappeared into his dorm to get those things, Belarus emerged from Russia’s room looking victorious. If she noticed her sister’s happiness, she was too overcome by the thought of Russia soon to be in a skirt to say a word about it.
------------------------------------------
Being hall monitor was so extremely awesome, Prussia wasn't sure what to do with himself. Except he was. Otherwise, he wouldn't be doing his job!
"Hey Switzerland, guess what?" He said smoothly, awesomely, hall monitor-y.
"What?" The treasurer snapped at him.
"I am so extremely awesome that..."
Switzerland glared at him, a glare that clearly warned him not to finish that sentence.
Prussia pouted. He was just going to say he was so awesome that even Switzerland's grumpy mood couldn't get to him! But now that he thought about it, it was probably not a good idea to mention that while Switzerland was in a skirt. Not that he looked bad in the skirt (and not that Prussia was looking or anything) but simply because it seemed to take his levels of "mostly grumpy" and bump it up into levels of "holy crap, he is going to shoot me!"
What Prussia didn't get is why Switzerland would wear the skirt if it made him so angry, when all he had to do was pay to wear his usual uniform slacks. Leaning up against the lockers as they waited for first period to end, Prussia let his eyes drop to the ground.
Hmm. Maybe Switzerland is just feeling awkward because I look so much more awesome in a skirt than him. Ha ha. Silly Switzerland, no one can match my awesome!
He glanced over to where Switzerland was scowling beside him; he really looked well...very nice. Switzerland wasn't like some of the guys who had disgustingly hairy legs or Russia (who Prussia had noted was trying to hide his fat legs by wearing a long scarf that trailed down) or anything.
"Hey Switzerland..." He said quietly, timidly, and reassuringly.
Prussia's tone seemed to catch him off guard. "W-what?" He replied, but it was more of a question this time and less of an attempt to verbally bite off his head.
He wasn't sure why, despite all Switzerland's ill-placed rage and scowling and stingy cheapskate ways, but at some point throughout the year, Prussia had really come to rather like his roommate. So that's why it really bothered him, made a little knot in his stomach that pinched and pulled at his heart, when he thought about how uncomfortable Switzerland seemed.
"If you're worried about the skirt, why didn't you just pay the five bucks?"
Switzerland flushed - probably in anger, Prussia figured - and averted his eyes. "I am not wasting my money on something that stupid. It's just a minor inconvenience, that's all."
Prussia shrugged. "Well uh...you look..."
Whatever totally-not-embarrassing thing Prussia was about to say though got cut off as the bell rang and the hallway flooded with students. It was time…to monitor the halls.
Dark red eyes skimmed over the students, trying to seek out anyone who wasn’t wearing the opposite uniform. It seemed to him that all the girls had taken the opportunity to wear pants, but as for the guys…
There were a few that he knew Switzerland had checked off as having paid- Japan, Greece, the Nordic Class- outside Denmark who seemed to be having a blast wearing his skirt and driving Norway nuts doing so, Estonia, Latvia (someone had anonymously paid for both of them), China, Germany…
Wait. Prussia’s smirk returned full force. Germany hadn’t paid. Oho, his dear brother was not going to get away while he was on duty!
“Oi, Bro! What’s with the pants?” He called out, stalking across the hallway to catch up with his brother.
Germany glowered at him from behind his glasses. “I’m wearing them, that’s what.”
Prussia laughed, “Doesn’t work that way today, bro!”
Beckoning Switzerland over to him (who obliged with a glare), Prussia leaned over him, pressing his back up against him as he flipped through Switzerland’s clipboard.
“Says right here: UNPAID. Means get yourself out of those pants and into a skirt, mister!”
Just about to rummage around in his backpack for a skirt of Germany’s size, another voice cut in.
“Prussia, it is urgent that I discuss this with you,” Austria stated primly.
But whatever it was he had to discuss was lost to Prussia as he looked up and caught sight of Austria trying to look as snooty and dignified as possible in a rather short skirt.
“Pfffttt. You look like a girl, four-eyes!”
Austria narrowed his eyes and huffed indignantly. “Which I am quite sure was your immature attempt, given that all my money and Germany’s wallet both went missing this morning and you are the room that shares the bathroom with us.”
Feigning a hurt look, Prussia shrugged. “It’s Switzerland’s room too. And most of the guys today had their wallets stolen, so don’t…”
“Prussia, if this was of your doing…” Austria warned, but his tone eased as Hungary came up (hiding a camera in her bag) and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Austria, is everything okay?” She queried.
“This-This hooligan has pilfered my money, forcing me to have no choice but to wear this skirt! He is now trying to do the same to Germany.”
Hungary shot Prussia a glare, then returned her loving gaze to Austria. Prussia wasn’t sure why, but he had a feeling that she knew more than she was letting on about the situation.
“Do you really think Prussia is smart enough--” “Hey!” “--to pull off such a horrible prank, Austria?”
He considered this, his ire dying off. “Hmm. I suppose you are correct. Prussia, with his miniscule brain mass, would never be able to think up such a prank.”
“Hey now!”
She smiled warmly at him. “A lot of people are saying the Principal put the cleaning ladies up to it. And Mr. Rome did seem pretty excited about wearing a skirt today…”
“That’s because Grampa knows it’s breezy and fun!” A new voice piped up.
The small gathering in the hallway all turned to see Italy, where he was clutching onto Germany’s arm.
“Neh Germany, why aren’t you wearing a skirt too? You told me I could keep my five dollars for pasta day at lunch, right?”
Germany looked to Italy, his large sad eyes and the beginning of a pout on his lips. He was clearly worried that Germany would demand that money so he could spare himself the embarrassment of a skirt. With a sigh, Germany gave Italy a gentle pat on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about the money, Italy.”
Prussia’s eyes glinted mischievously. He now knew for certain his brother hadn’t and wouldn’t pay the price. Tugging out an aptly sized skirt, he held it up.
“Come on bro! Put it on or by the power invested in me by the Student Council, I’m depantsing you!”
With as serious an expression one could manage in this sort of situation, Germany took the skirt from Prussia and glanced around for the nearest boys’ restroom.
“Fine. Mark me off on your list or whatever.”
Italy looped his arm through Germany’s as they walked off, reassuring him, “It’s okay Germany! I’m sure you’ll look really manly in a skirt! I mean, if anyone could make wearing a skirt manly- it’d be you Germany.”
A bit let down that he couldn’t force Germany into the skirt, Prussia sighed, blowing out a puff of air right on Switzerland’s neck (who he was hovering behind to reach the clipboard again).
“B-Back off, moron.”
Prussia did as asked (for once) and took a step back. It looked like Austria had had enough of them and had excused himself, Hungary trailing after him and pulling her camera back out. Prussia frowned in confusion. He didn’t remember Hungary being a part of the photography club…
“If that’s all, we’d both best get to our second period classes before we’re too late,” Switzerland grumbled.
Prussia glanced up at the few students still milling about the corridor and shrugged. There was no one else left to go after, for now…
“Hey Switzerland, I’ll walk you to your class.”
He wasn’t sure why he offered, but Prussia figured it was just so he could skip out on his next class a little longer. The fact Switzerland still seemed to be in a bit of a sulk over the whole skirt thing just made it a little more of a reason to skip class. I mean, he should awesomely cheer him up first at least!
Switzerland glared, which Prussia figured he was doing in lieu of asking ‘What’ this time. But Prussia wasn’t fazed.
Picking up his backpack, he threw his arm around Switzerland’s shoulder and veered them off down the left hallway.
“Oh come on, it’s basically in the same direction as mine and we look way awesomer in our skirts together.”
Switzerland coughed, a bit of red rising up to his cheeks. Poor guy, Prussia thought to himself, this whole skirt thing had really made him uncomfortable.
Quietly, Switzerland grumbled out.
“Fine, stupid. But…”
“No buts! I’m going to…”
“But,” Switzerland said forcefully, shoving himself up under Prussia’s arm to make a point, “our classes are down the other hallway, moron.”
“O-Oh yeah. The awesome me totally knew that! Ha ha.”
---------------------------------
The plan had, so far, gone off without a hitch. The majority of the male student body was all in skirts, most of them receiving snickers and odd looks throughout the day, and it was nearly time for the third part of the plan to commence.
Seychelles could hardly wait.
It was the free period many of the students had at the end of the day, still technically part of the school day (so no running off to dorms to get out of skirts first) but still pretty laid back in terms of adult supervision. This meant a good portion of the junior class was all in the cafeteria for a “study hour,” which always equated to talking and hanging out and no real studying going on unless you counted couples making out when they thought teachers weren’t looking.
This is where it would all culminate for the trio of pranksters that so often plagued the female students with their antics. They just…didn’t know that yet.
Seychelles’s first distraction was right on cue, whether he knew it or not. Spain’s boyfriend was a volatile force on a good day, so she’d counted on that being heavily amplified when required to wear a skirt.
Lucky for her, she was right.
“Damnit Spain! People are staring,” he swore, tugging his skirt down again.
Spain just smiled. “That must be because you look so cute today, Romano!”
The look he got for that comment was downright deadly. “I knew you rigged this, bastard! Get your disgusting friend to pass this on the one day I need my money for something else. Che.”
Blinking in confusion, Spain tilted his head to the side. “What did you need your money for?”
“It was fucking pasta day at lunch, you dimwit!” He roared, trying to flip the table before realizing that a bench loaded down with five people’s weight wouldn’t budge.
“But I thought you said the cafeteria food was all gross.”
Seychelles had to roll her eyes. Dating France, she’d grown quite accustomed to Spain and Romano’s violent bickering. Well, violent on Romano’s part at least…
“No! God! You know that Rome makes sure the fucking pasta is decent. That’s why I’ll eat it.”
Spain nodded. “Oh yeah, I remember now. So is that why you spent your money on pasta instead of on not wearing a skirt?”
“Yes,” he hissed out. “Which was clearly all part of your evil plan to get me in a skirt, bastard!”
Looking over to France, Spain asked, “France, was that why we had uniform switch day? I thought it was for understanding the students of a different gender better.”
France, who was doing his own sort of understanding of Seychelles’s slacks covered thigh, turned on his charm in response. “Oui, of course. It was all for education and understanding, no evil plans involved.”
“See Romano, it’s for understanding!”
“Understand this, dumbass!” He shot back, giving Spain a shove.
As usual, Spain just laughed it off and tried to put his arm around Romano, which at first was rejected and only after about five times of having it shoved off, did Romano huff and let it stay.
Seychelles and Prussia both stifled a snicker, so used to Romano doing things like this. As for France, he was preoccupied with another matter entirely.
“I must admit, it is almost more tantalizing to have you in pants,” he purred into Seychelles’s ear.
She had allowed France to pull her into his lap, partially because well…she didn’t mind being there too much, but also since she needed him thoroughly distracted to pull off the last part of the plan.
“Maybe I should wear them more often, oui?” She asked right back, one of her pigtails sliding forward over her shoulder as she leaned in towards him. “Or are they tempting you too much with what you feel but cannot see, hmm?”
France smirked at her tone and leaned in closer as well, letting her wrap her arm around his neck. “Pray tell, ma chérie, what do you think of my current attire hmm?”
Seychelles hummed, as if in thought, and peered over France’s shoulder to see if all her players were in place.
Prussia, who was sitting on the end of their table, was mumbling to himself about ‘having yet another awesome day,’ Spain was distractedly staring at Romano, who was shooting him daggered looks, and France was…well, very distracted with his hand in between her thighs. A row over, Hungary gave a thumbs up that was the signal for their stage three to commence.
It was time for the pièce de résistance.
“Your attire…” Seychelles murmured seductively, letting her lips brush against France’s cheek without quite touching.
“Is quite…” She reached behind him and deftly popped loose the button on his skirt.
She shot a wink across the hall to Belgium who rolled a pencil across the floor to her. Seychelles just smirked at France, slinging her leg around and standing up to step behind him. As she traced a hand over his shoulder, she bent (seemingly to pick up the pencil) and popped Spain’s skirt button loose as well.
“I must say, it’s quite the look for you…France,” she murmured huskily in his ear.
As she had hoped, this got him to turn around towards her; and she used the last moment when he was turned away to quickly get Prussia’s button as well before standing up with the pencil in her hand and an innocent look on her face.
“I must say, it is… c’est magnifique,” she finished, holding out a hand to France, who stood to meet her.
But when he stood, his skirt slid to the ground revealing silk boxers covered in red roses. The laughter began.
“Ah, pardon moi. Though I suppose, if you liked me in a skirt, this must be almost unbearable for you…Seychelles,” France asked, wrapping his arm around her and letting his hand dip around the curve of her behind.
It earned the usual reaction- Seychelles’s hand smacking across his face.
“Oh, I’m so sorry France! I just…I just reacted and…”
As the two ran through their usual routine of apologizing, France getting too frisky again, and Seychelles smacking him again- Spain stood up as well to try and get them to make peace.
This led to the second round of laughter from the crowd as his tomato covered boxers were revealed to all.
Spain just blinked, and turned to his boyfriend, “Is there something wrong with my boxers, Romano? You’ve always said they were cute.”
“I never fucking said they were cute, bastard!”
And that set off the second bickering couple, leaving just Prussia to join the throng.
But no one had expected Prussia, the self-proclaimed Mr. Awesome, to have such…unawesome boxers. They’d expected black eagles or at least text reading ‘AWESOME’ across his ass.
And so the deafening moment of silence in which everyone stared was quickly replaced by the loudest laughter of all.
“Didja ya’ll see that? He’s got little baby chicks with pink bows!”
“That’s totally not awesome!”
“He’s always teasing us about having lacy underwear and he wears those? Talk about girly!”
Prussia turned bright red, yanked up his skirt, and ran from the cafeteria. Seychelles, who had finally calmed down (despite leaving two handprints on France’s cheek) saw Hungary giving her a wink and she knew that there’d be photos of it in the morning.
A little part of her wondered if perhaps she’d gone too far, but the fact was she and so many of the other girls had been subjected to the same or worse from the three of them. It was time for them to know how it felt.
She glanced off after Prussia (Romano was still yelling at Spain to put his skirt back on) and worriedly looked to France.
“Is he going to be okay?”
France sighed, “It seems the prankster cannot take a prank, oui?”
Seychelles flushed, realizing France had caught on to her ploy.
“I…I didn’t…”
“If you really wanted to get me out of my skirt, ma chérie...”
“France…”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Do not worry. I am sure he’ll be fine.”
She let France pull her closer since he was actually keeping his hands above her waist this time. It seemed (even if it was momentarily) he could learn a lesson or two.
“I hope so. Now put your skirt back on, pervert.”
-------------------------------------------
The day could have, in Switzerland’s opinion, been better in many ways. It had some high points (mostly getting to see Liechtenstein and Belgium confronting Netherlands in a skirt and asking for him to apologize for his previous behavior), some annoying points (mostly involving wearing a skirt himself) and a few things that just would have been nice had they happened differently.
Case in point, he’d just gotten back from an anonymous tip-off that all the missing money from the boy’s dorms was stuffed into an unused locker down the hall near the cafeteria. It meant that Switzerland had to leave his last class of the day early to make sure it got passed along to the Vice Principal so it could all be returned to its rightful owners.
Strangely enough, whoever took it in the first place was at least nice enough to put all of the stolen cash into ziplock bags each labeled with the name of the person it was stolen from.
Given a few little things with his sister that day, Switzerland suspected some of the female students might have been involved. But they hadn’t touched his carefully accounted for wallet, his savings lock-box or any of his few emergency funds stored throughout his room, so he supposed he could let it slide for now. His sister did seem a lot happier at the end of the day, after all.
Just about to get out of his own skirt, Switzerland froze as the door to his dorm went flying open before just as quickly slamming shut.
There stood Prussia, awkwardly holding up his skirt over silk boxers adorned with cute yellow baby chicks, all wearing pink bows around their necks.
Switzerland blinked.
That slight motion seemed to alert Prussia of his presence, and all wide-eyes and panic, he quickly jumped onto the nearest bed and burrowed under as many of the covers as he could manage.
“Prussia…”
“I-I’d like to awesomely be left alone!” A sniffle. “Extreme awesomeness invited only, which is just m-membership me!”
Switzerland blinked again.
“Prussia. You’re in my bed.”
“S-some people just can’t appreciate my awesome, that’s all!” He bellowed over the statement.
But Switzerland wasn’t buying the act. Biting his lip, he glanced awkwardly around the room as if magically someone would show up to deal with Prussia for him. But of course, no one did. He sighed. What was one supposed to do in a situation like this?
The only thing he could think of is how he handled his younger sister when she was upset. Well, Prussia was…well, acting pretty immature. It was worth a shot.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Switzerland awkwardly patted the cocoon formerly known as Prussia. When he leaned down to give the cocoon a sorta-kinda-he-guessed-you-could-call-it-a-hug, Prussia’s face emerged from a tiny hole near the top of the blankets.
“Switzerland?”
He frowned, reiterating, “Moron. You’re in my bed.”
“Well I’m not moving. I’ve already had enough people not appreciate the awesomeness of my boxers for one day!”
Figuring that somehow he’d had his skirt flipped or something, earning the ridicule of his peers, Switzerland’s lips thinned out into an even tighter line.
“Are you crying?”
Prussia turned his face away, and Switzerland swore he heard more sniffles.
“N-No. I’m too awesome for that!”
Quietly, Switzerland settled beside him on the bed and mumbled a quiet, “It’s not like I look good in this stupid skirt.”
Just as quietly, the cocoon mumbled a “Y-Yeah you do.”
His hackles raised, Switzerland did the first and most natural thing to him. He pulled his gun. Er…sucker-dart gun. “What do you mean by that?” He prodded the cocoon until Prussia emerged from it with his hands up in the air.
“I thought they confiscated all of those?”
Switzerland gave a confident but dark look. “No one can confiscate all my guns. Ever.”
The taunting seemed to stir something in Prussia, and his smirk resurfaced. With a grin, he reached over to the dresser drawer and fumbled inside before he pulled out a water gun. “Oh yeah. You mean like this one you keep in the drawer?”
Switzerland still isn’t sure who moved first, but it was fast and it was furious and before either of them knew it they’d toppled onto the floor in their attempts to shoot their roommate first. Finally pinning him beneath him, Switzerland aimed a well-placed sucker-dart right at Prussia’s forehead.
But his victory was to be short lived, as Prussia got him with the water gun seconds later, leaving a trickle of water on the right side of his face.
Prussia started trying to tug the sucker-dart off his head, but the more he tugged the more it seemed to suction to his forehead. With an irritated huff, Switzerland finally swatted his hands away and pulled it loose with a loud ‘pop!’
“Owww,” Prusia whined.
At first, Switzerland was about to tell him not to be such a baby; but on seeing the red welt left behind, he thought better of it. That had to hurt.
Before he knew what he was doing, Switzerland had leaned down and pressed a get-well kiss to it much like he would have done for Liechtenstein.
But when Prussia spoke, the spell was broken.
Sounding slightly winded from their impromptu gun fight, Prussia muttered, “Um…did you just kiss me?”
Switzerland blushed. “I-It’s not like that. It’s just a habit. You see, my sister she...”
Before he could finish, Prussia leaned up and pecked a kiss to the water droplet that had trickled onto the corner of Switzerland’s mouth.
Suddenly, their faces were too close and the room was too hot and Switzerland really wanted to move from on top of Prussia, but he was frozen in place, his heart hammering away.
“Hey Switzerland,” Prussia murmured softly. And somehow this time it didn’t annoy Switzerland at all.
“What?” He replied, but it had no bite to it. It was just a quiet, simple, question.
“I mean it,” he said, expression imploring. “You uh…look good.”
Switzerland felt his face heating up and his temper rising. “…In a skirt?”
Prussia averted his eyes. “Well, not just…that. Generally speaking and all.”
His scowl softened. “You’re being serious for once, aren’t you?”
Chuckling weakly, Prussia hesitantly reached up and put his hand on Switzerland’s neck. “Ha yeah. Strange, isn’t it?”
And maybe it was because he wanted to wipe that slight smirk off Prussia’s face or because he’d gotten his fair share of ridicule when it got out to the school that he slept in a pink nightshirt and only Prussia hadn’t teased him about it once he said it was from his sister, but for some crazy, insane reason- Switzerland leaned down closer until his lips were just about to brush Prussia’s.
“Not that I care what you wear or anything…” he whispered, as if it was some deep, dark secret, “but I…well, the chicks are. They’re…nice.”
Prussia, either because he was so happy someone appreciated the awesomeness of his chicks or because he realized that the chicks weren’t the only thing Switzerland thought was ‘nice,’ beamed. His smile wide and ridiculous and definitely not good looking at all in that brief moment before he closed the space between them, kissing Switzerland full on the mouth.
Switzerland, though he’d never admit it and would go forcefully steal back his real guns and use them on anyone who implied otherwise, decided that this was a much better use for Prussia’s mouth than the usual idiotic things he did with it.
Like laugh. And smirk. And babble on about how awesome he was.
Definitely (not that he was leaning into the kiss or enjoying it or anything) the best option when it came to Prussia and his mouth. Not that he was going to ever repeat this…action. Ever.
When Prussia finally pulled back, he looked pretty pensive, clearly waiting for Switzerland to yell at him or shoot him or at least walk away in silence. What he didn’t expect was just a simple statement.
“If you plan on taking this anywhere, do know that I don’t go Dutch on dates, ever. Too wasteful.”
If possible, Prussia’s returning grin was the most annoying one he’d managed yet.
“Switzerland…really?”
He turned his head to the side, his cheeks pinking. “You’re not talking me out of it. Just accept it or…”
“Looks like dinner’s on me tonight then, ha ha!” Prussia said cheerfully, pulling Switzerland down against him in a hug.
Switzerland floundered against him a moment before just giving up and sighing into Prussia’s neck. “Moron. Let me get up.”
“You wanna change into something awesome for our awesome date?”
Oh boy, Switzerland rolled his eyes. The word ‘awesome’ was back. That wasn’t a good sign.
“I’d rather not be in a skirt,” he snapped.
Prussia laughed and for some reason it wasn’t as irritating a sound as Switzerland remembered it being.
“But you look so aweso--”
Switzerland pecked a quick kiss on his lips, just enough to derail his train of thought, and wiggled loose from his grip to stand up. Holding his skirt in place, he frowned down at Prussia and held out a hand.
“Come on idiot, get up and get out of your skirt.”
Prussia happily grabbed Switzerland’s hand and stood up, giving him a quick one-armed squeeze around the shoulders before he went off to his dresser to find something to wear.
As he turned to his own dresser, Switzerland let the slightest of smiles tug at his lips. Today wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it was even a little bit awesome, Switzerland thought to himself.
Though if anyone ever tried to suggest that he was smiling over Prussia, they’d be shot. Multiple times.
---------------------------------------------
It was very late when America and England arrived back on campus, way past everyone else’s curfew. England said that about mid-afternoon his feeling of dread had dissipated, something America attributed to his amazing Science Fair Project winning first prize.
It was quite an amazing project, England had to admit, some bollocks America called rehydroxylation dating in which he could take archaeological finds of ceramics and date them based on the water weight gained over time. He’d explained the whole thing in detail, practicing his spiel on the plane ride down to D.C. so he’d be ready for the judges, but England pretty much only understood the basics.
Well, science was to America as literature was to him. They each had their strengths.
Though America’s strength was currently bumping a very large and bulky trophy into England’s back as he tried to get the door to their dorm open as quietly as possible; needless to say it wasn’t helping.
Finally, he got the key to turn and they stepped inside.
“Where should I put it England? It’s huge?”
England was about to remind America that it would have to go in the school trophy case sooner or later, but his beaming smile made him stop. It was nice that they’d finally gotten all their relationship differences worked out so he could appreciate moments like this.
“Oh I don’t know, on the end table? Hold on, what’s this?”
It was then that England noticed a small file folder that had been slipped under their door while they had been away. He picked it up warily, his foreboding feeling trickling back. Flipping it over, he was put slightly at ease by the simple script written on the front on a post-it note in Seychelles’s handwriting.
Eyebrows:
The council is fine. There was a bit of a…thing today. But as you’ll see from the detailed report you insisted I write up for you, things turned out all right. Also, unless you want me to tell everyone that you got home early and that you’re skipping classes tomorrow to laze all day with America, you’ll let me have a few days off now and then. Just a suggestion. Rome let it slip earlier when I asked when you’d be getting back.
So bonne nuit and don’t stay up too late celebrating.
- Seychelles
England grumbled and swore under his breath. “Blasted French. She knows I hate that!”
“Seychelles leave a note?” America asked, suddenly at his side.
And still with the trophy, which once again tapped against England’s back.
“Weren’t you going to put that on the end table?”
America grinned, his euphoria still not having worn off, “Won’t fit! What happened today at school? We miss something?”
England, now a bit wary, flipped open the folder and started to edge the first page out. It was a photograph, and he dropped it immediately as if he’d touched a hot iron.
America, still holding his trophy and looking very much like he might like to sleep with the blasted thing, bent over to pick it up. He started laughing immediately.
“Oh man, who managed to get everyone to switch their uniforms? That’s hilarious! Look at all their stupid boxers!”
Mumbling under his breath, “Says the one who has superhero boxers,” England pulled the next page out of the file folder and skimmed over Seychelles’s report.
So the girls had gotten their revenge, Prussia, Spain and France had been humiliated and blast it all- he hadn’t been there to see it.
Squinting at the fine print on the note, he chuckled. “Why am I not surprised…”
“What?”
Tired, England shook his head. “We’ll worry about it later. We still have tomorrow off, remember?”
America nodded, much like an eager puppy. “Oh yeah. Still don’t know where to put my trophy…”
Sliding out of his clothes into his pyjamas, England called over his shoulder, “Well you can either sleep with it or me, so make your choice.”
Within an instant, the trophy had been relegated to the dresser top next to England’s poetry reading championship prize. England allowed himself a covert smile, glad to see that America was able to make that decision quickly. Actually, America wasn’t wasting any time at all. Now detached from his energy-giving trophy, he was yawning and rubbing blearily at his eyes.
After stripping down to his aforementioned superhero boxers and tugging on a tank top, America jumped into bed, pulled back the sheets and beckoned to England. He obliged after grabbing his pillow off his own bed.
As they settled down together, America glanced at the file folder England was still holding.
“I guess your gut feeling was right. At least it ended up backfiring on France, huh?”
“I suppose…” England grumbled with a frown.
“You sad you missed out on all the chaos today, England? I know you love yelling at people to look tip-top and all that silly British stuff.”
He snorted. “Oh hush,” England replied, nuzzling against his side. “I don’t feel that I’ve missed out on anything at all, given our busy day.”
America grinned.
“Plus, it looks like I can get all the highlights later anyway.”
“Really?”
England held up the fine print note, gesturing to the bottom line. America read it and smiled. England was right. Why suffer through all the ridiculousness when you can just laugh at it later?
He tossed the note onto the dresser, where the fine print was illuminated by the moonlight that was tricking in through their curtains.
It simply read: Uniform Switch Day Memories! Get it all in high-res photos or video. Just contact Hungary!