Title: Keep On Dreaming
Genre: Romance
Rating: low T, for swearing
Word Count: 1,190
Warnings: none
Summary: Hetalia and Naruto crossover. Alfred asks Arthur to help him with his summoning jutsu.
a/n: Abrupt ending is horribly abrupt. Sorry!
Written for UsUk speed-fic. Didn't medal in this one, though.
“Hey, Arthur, wanna train with me today?” Alfred asked, beaming.
His teammate looked up in the middle of his weapon-checking routine. He looked at Kiku and his teacher, and when neither of them protested, Arthur said, “I’m not against it. What brought this up? You usually train with Kiku.”
Never with me, he thought sourly.
Alfred clapped his hands together, looking giddier than his normal sugar-high act. “Well, I just thought that since, you know, I learned the summoning jutsu from Mr. Hatake . . . and since you’re, you know, like a beast at summoning . . . I was wondering if you can give me some pointers.”
“Sure,” said Arthur, though he knew he should be happier to hear Alfred complimenting him, calling him a beast-whatever that meant.
“Go easy on him, Arthur,” said Mr. Sai, his Jounin teacher, clapping Arthur on the back.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!”
Sai laughed. “Nothing, nothing. I was just making a comment on the difference between your two’s skill level. Nothing to react so strongly for. Kiku, shall we go?”
Alfred watched his teammate and teacher walk toward the other side of the training ground and fumed.
“Just wait till he sees,” he told Arthur as he refastened his forehead protector. “One day, I’m going to become a hero then make him aaand all of his stupid ink snakes bow at my feet!”
Arthur smiled. “But first, you’ll have to pass the Chuunin Exams, don’t you?”
Alfred stuck out his tongue.
~.*.~
They stood teen feet across from each other, muscles tense, weapons drawn, and beads of perspiration sliding down their throats. Arthur waited for his partner to attack first, knowing he himself was a more defensive shinobi. He formed plans through his enemy’s plans, looking for loopholes in his enemy’s strategies. Arthur would wait for Alfred to strike first, then he would counter five times stronger and ten times harsher.
As he had thought, Alfred soon grew tired of this staring contest. He hurled five kunai at his opponent, each of them aiming for his heart. Arthur jumped up, spinning in midair, and delivered five flying shurikens. The weapons’ momentums cancelled out, flying in wild directions before impaling the ground.
Without pausing for breath, Arthur opened his pouch and grabbed a handful of shuriken. Alfred had come running at him with a kunai in hand, and Arthur hopped away quickly, knowing he was stronger in long-distance combat. However, he miscalculated the distance and ended up with his back against a tree. Thinking fast, he focused chakra into his hands and feet and back-flipped his way up the trunk. Where he had been before, a kunai knife was stuck on the rough bark.
He’s gotten faster, Arthur thought as he dodged another myriad of weapons. He thought back to their first mission as a Genin team three years ago, when Alfred couldn’t get away from the angry cats they were supposed to catch. The thought brought a smile to his lips.
“You’ve got to be a lot stronger than that to beat me!” he called, now hidden beneath a leafy canopy. Then, for good measure, he added, “And to become Chuunnin!”
A year ago, everyone on Team Sai except for Alfred had passed the Chuunin Exams held at the Hidden Sand Village. It was a sore spot for the self-acclaimed hero-to-be, and Arthur figured it would make Alfred angrier. Arthur’s teammate was the kind of guy that was stronger when taunted, and Arthur wanted to see his true strength.
And it seemed to have worked.
“You bastard! I’ll show you what I’m capable of! Summoning Jutsu!”
A cloud of smoke erupted over where Alfred was. Curious to see what his new summon was, Arthur travelled silently from treetop to treetop. When he thought he had a good view, Arthur lifted a branch full of leaves.
He stared.
Then, throwing all shinobi combat rules out the window, Arthur Kirkland laughed.
He dodged the kunai that Alfred undoubtedly had sent and dropped to the ground, all the while giggling madly. His teammate looked at him, his face red with embarrassment, though he did not send another kunai over in Arthur’s momentary lapse of conduct.
“Stop laughing,” grumbled Alfred.
The small, spotted egg by his feet faded out of existence with another puff of smoke.
“My apologies,” Arthur said, wiping away a tear. “It’s just that . . . I’ve seen beginners summon birds before . . . but they never summoned an egg before.”
“Hmph.” Alfred looked the other way. “Someday, that egg is going to grow into an eagle. I’ll show you all then!”
Arthur finally calmed down and, for the first time in many months, really, honestly looked at his teammate.
He saw a fifteen-year-old boy, standing on a barren training ground with his arms crossed and his face flushed. But more importantly, Arthur saw how Alfred as a boy, with no parents or clan of his own, working his way up to earn the recognition and attention in the Leaf Village. Arthur knew, from watching secretly afar every day, that Alfred frequently spent extra time after each team meeting was over to practice his taijutsu and ninjutsu. Alfred was not as talented as the Sharingan-bearing Kiku was, nor did he have the flair with summoning animals as the Kirkland clan did. He was just trying to establish his place however he could.
Arthur opened his mouth, prepared to ask his teammate just how long he had been training with Kakashi Hatake for the summoning jutsu, but Alfred was the first to speak.
“Do you remember what I said to you, when we first met?”
“Yes,” Arthur answered slowly.
When they had both first enter the Ninja Academy, there was a time when Arthur had few friends. He made sand-castles along during recess. He walked home alone. Once, he was even forced to partner with that bastard Francis when the teachers introduced shuriken-throw.
Then, one day, the class clown Alfred, friend and annoyer of all things living, came to him and said-
“If I beat you in a spar, will you go on a date with me?”
Arthur looked up at Alfred, startled. “Y-you remembered!”
“Of course I did. You were my childhood crush.”
Now Arthur was blushing. “That’s ridiculous.”
Alfred shrugged. “I thought your eyebrows looked cool. Still do, actually. Anyway, what I was trying to say is . . . You said yes.”
“Pardon me?”
“You said yes,” he repeated. “Actually, your words were, ‘Keep on dreaming, idiot.’ And then went on to give me the beating of a lifetime. So I took it as a yes for the challenge.”
Arthur suddenly found his shoes extremely fascinating.
“I hope I don’t come across as pathetic, especially after what I just, uh, summoned. But . . . I just want you to know. Even though I lost that time, and this time, and countless times after this”-Arthur looked up, and he saw Alfred give him a wink-“I will kick your ass someday.”
Arthur’s face was hotter than a stove. “Keep on dreaming, idiot,” he muttered.
Alfred laughed.