[aph] Carpe Diem, Act IV: The Academy [4/?]
Title:: Carpe Diem, Act IV: The Academy [4/?] [FF.net link]
Fandom:: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character(s):: Arthur Kirkland, Alfred F. Jones, Francis Bonnefoy, Peter Kirkland, Robert Kirkland, Julius Vargas
Pairing(s):: Eventual Alfred/Arthur and all pairings you could possibly think of in later chapters.
Rating:: PG-13.
Chapter Word count:: 3234
Total Word Count:: 10619
Warning:: slight language
Disclaimer: Nessie is not mine, the Leprechaun is not mine, the unicorn is not mine, and the faerie isn’t mine also. So what makes you think I owned Hetalia? Oh and those magical creatures I mentioned don’t have anything to do with the chapter
Beta’d by:
chocobo_ed. Thank you for doing another great job, girl. Now rest and don’t force yourself to beta the next chapter. WRITE YOUR FIC! I need more crack. XD
A/N: I was not supposed to update again this week, you know. So thank my awesome beta for another quick update, dear readers. And don't get used to the massively quick updates. It'll be sporadic once I run out of chapters too publish. This chapter… Kufufufu~ Guess who's coming?
Act I: The Beginning || Act II: The Plan || Act III: The Other Agents || Act IV: The Academy || Act V: The Masquerade || Act VI: The Class
Act IV: The Academy
“Peter! Let go of Arthur this instant and go back to your dormitory!”
“I don’t want to! I want to be here!”
“Oh for goodness sake, just go back! We need to work, Peter!”
“Hey! Don’t smack my head, jerk Robert!”
“That’s because you are such an obnoxious little brat. Now, scram or I’ll tell Father you are misbehaving again! I’ll make sure Father detains you this time.”
Arthur closed his eyes and tried to tune out the screaming, yelling and thrashing from his head. The four of them-(Francis, Robert, Peter and himself) were seated in the car, trying to keep a low profile. Arthur was seated at the back of the car with a very adamant Peter still clinging onto his arm. Robert was trying to pry the little boy away.
After a few minutes of struggling and screaming, Robert finally dragged Peter out of the car and took him to the dormitory. After that, he got back inside the car and ordered Francis to drive to their mini base.
“So, Artie, you do know what you are going to do, right?” Robert asked suddenly from the passenger’s seat, looking over his shoulders and smirked.
Arthur could feel his skin tingling with uneasiness-his brother’s smirk had always made him nervous. “Of course I know! I’ve been in handling this case since the beginning,” he answered. “I’m sure I-”
“-And yet you are still unable to catch them,” his brother interjected sharply. Arthur huffed and looked away. “You’re fortunate that Mr.Weillschmidt still has some confidence in you. I didn’t agree to this actually, you know. You are not even capable of stopping two gits of thieves and yet the Commander made you an Interpol Agent?” Robert gritted his teeth and turned back to the front. Francis kept his silence and looked a bit uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere.
“If I were Mr. Weillschmidt, I would have sacked you,” Robert added again. “How many times you’ve had the chance to capture them?”
“Five…” Arthur muttered his answer, still avoiding the need to see Robert.
“Tch!” His brother spat, Arthur could feel that he must be rolling his eyes now. “You’d better be not screw up this time, Artie. Or I’ll make sure you won’t be in this line of work anywhere again.”
“I know! And stop calling me Artie!” Arthur burst out angrily. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Robert!”
“That’s ‘Boss’ to you, Agent Kirkland,” said Robert, his tone changing drastically from mocking to serious. “Faster, Agent Bonnefoy! We can’t waste more time!” He ordered Francis, who just sighed and wondered why he had to be the one suffering the wrath of his so called boss over some private family disputes.
--
The mini base was, Arthur thought, not so mini at all. The size of the base was actually almost one and a half times his small flat in London. The small building was located some two hundreds metre away from the back of the main building. It was hidden from view by the thick green shrubs and some tall trees. What was a small house that could contain a family of five doing in the middle of nowhere befuddled Arthur’s mind completely.
As soon as Arthur stepped in to the base, he swore that he must have lost his sense of smell. Towers of empty takeaways were stacked high all over the room, with the monitors and other electronic devices taking up majority of the space. There were a number of people hunched over on their chairs, their seemingly unblinking gaze fixed at the glowing monitors, which was showing a live feed of every part of the school. Now he knew why Francis didn’t want to go back here the night before; a dandy man like him would not want to spend even ten minutes inside this… gruesome place.
The team sent by the Interpol consisted of seven agents, including Arthur himself. They were: his brother (the team leader), Francis (who was posing as the French language teacher), Arthur himself (posing as the student), a young Estonian boy who was actually a real student in Hetalia Academy (being the computer freak and genius that he was, the Interpol hired him immediately), a girly Finnish man as their informant, a creepy Swedish man (whose speech was beyond Arthur’s understanding) and a Danish man (who was over eager about anything and everything).
After the agents exchanged brief introductions between the seven of them, Arthur, Robert and Francis were once again inside the car and returned to the front side of the school. Now, there were only a few people (Arthur spotted three Asian teens trying to drag their other hyperactive Asian-presumably their friend- into the dormitory) wandering around outside.
“You will meet Headmaster Vargas in half an hour,” Robert informed him as Arthur dragged his suitcases out. “He’ll tell you everything you need to know about the school- what you can do and cannot do. Francis here will check on you every now and then to make sure you do your work, Agent Kirkland.”
“I know! You don’t need to remind me every time,” Arthur grumbled, annoyed with how his brother seemed to underestimate his ability.
“I’ll remind you about this every time until you capture the thieves,” Robert added fiercely. “Don’t be reckless and use your brain. If you are as smart as I think you are, you will be able to find them in no time.”
Arthur turned around, his eyes wide in disbelief. Had his ears gone wrong or did Robert, his jerk of a brother, say something about having confidence in him on being able to nab the thieves?
“Do your job too, Agent Bonnefoy,” Robert turned sharply to Francis. “Don’t let your perversity block your brain function.”
“Oui, oui. I understand, Boss,” said Francis, scratching his chin lightly.
Robert left the both of them before Arthur could even form a reply.
His brother was really hard to understand sometimes, Arthur thought. He slowly made his way towards the dormitory, dragging his suitcase along the bumpy road.
“Your room is on the second floor-it is number 207. The Headmaster have specially arranged for you to stay alone so you can work without having to worry about the kids. Take the room key from the dorm keeper, ask around for directions and you’ll find it. I’ll be waiting for you in the Headmaster office, Arthur,” Francis said and walked off into the opposite direction.
Arthur’s eyebrow started twitching in annoyance as soon as his name left Francis’ lips. The both of them had interacted with each other for less than twenty four hours and now they were on first name basis already? “Some people are just so rude,” the Briton muttered.
Arthur clutched his suddenly aching stomach. The uneasiness was coming again. Arthur didn’t know why, but he was extremely nervous about stepping one foot inside the dormitory. He took a deep breath and took the first step. He could do this-he wouldn’t let the feeling of being out of place hinder his job.
Slowly dragging the suitcases, Arthur looked around the dormitory. There were children of all ages walking and running around. He silently hoped that Peter was securely locked in his room-after all; Arthur did not want to attract any unnecessary attention. After taking the key to his room from the dorm keeper (a strange, silent Egyptian man), he made his way through the mass of children and into the elevator.
There were some teens other than Arthur inside the elevator-and all of them were staring at him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world. Arthur fidgeted, uncomfortable with the way the young kids were looking at him. Fortunately, his room was on the second floor, where most of the students on the same year as him stayed, so he could leave the elevator in just a few seconds. As soon as the elevator doors slid opened, Arthur quickly walked out, relief settling in him on the fact that he was not the centre of the attention anymore.
“Wait! Wait! I want to get in too!” A young man with dark brown hair (a single curly hair was hanging by the teen’s left ear) ran passed and quickly shoved himself inside the elevator. “I want to see if they have pastaa~”
“Feliciano, you bastard!” another teen yelled. Arthur had to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating but this other young man had the same face-albeit a bit more sour-like the other brown haired teen. The teen named Feliciano had his curly hair by his left ear, but this other teen had his curly hair by his fringe, curling to the right side. “Don’t fucking leave me here!” And a rude mouth to boot, too.
“Ve~ Hurry up, Brother!”
The elevator shut close and Arthur was left standing in the empty corridor. He looked around and swore that there were multiple small cameras in almost every corner of the corridor. He scowled deeply at one of the camera and proceeded to find his room. However, there were too many rooms and he had to walk around for ten full minutes before finally arriving at his room-it was by the stairs leading to the first and third floor. Before he could open the door to his room, his cell phone (the one given by Robert when they were in the mini base) started to vibrate, signalling an incoming call.
“Hello?”
“You’re late, mon ami.” It was Francis, and he was using those French words on Arthur again. “The Headmaster is waiting.”
“Wait a moment, will you? I have to get into my bloody room first!” Arthur hissed loudly. At the same moment the door of the room beside his opened, and a tall blonde man with a pair of glasses decked out in a pair washed out jeans and an unbuttoned navy blue shirt (he wore a black undershirt) walked out of the room. He had this strange tuft of hair poking out by his hairline (the students here have very strange hairstyles, was what Arthur thinking right now). The man caught sight of Arthur and their eyes met.
“Shut it, frog! I’ll go there in a minute,” Arthur muttered and then slipped the phone back to his pocket. “Good afternoon,” he greeted the blonde man.
“… New student?” This man was certainly didn’t know manners because instead of answering Arthur’s greeting, he started questioning Arthur instead. The young man leant by the doorframe and looked over Arthur, a small smile creeping up to his face.
“Ye-yeah. I just got transferred here,” Arthur answered, blushing because of the sheer embarrassment of having to pose as a young student few years younger rather than his actual age. He had to act like a damn teenager and he hated it.
“Oh! British?” The other blonde asked again, noticing Arthur’s accent.
Arthur nodded and tore his eyes away from him-he had realized that the young man had blue eyes and that made him feel a bit uneasy-those eyes strongly reminded him of that thief. He took the cardkey to his room (Fancy school, fancy security locking system, Arthur thought) out of his pocket and slid it over the electronic lock.
It remained locked.
Arthur tried and tried again but somehow, no matter how many times Arthur repeated the process, the door wouldn’t open.
“Alfred F. Jones.”
Arthur stopped sliding the electronic cardkey and turned to the young man again. “I beg your pardon?”
“My name,” the blonde said, smiling brightly as he offered his hand. “What’s yours?”
The Briton scowled deeply. He should not be too friendly with anyone because every single person in this school was a suspect-except for the kids and women maybe. In addition, this particular young man who called himself Alfred F. Jones reminded him too much of that blasted pervert thief-Hero-with his overly bright blue eyes and that annoying American accent. Arthur banged his head to the door when the memory of the thief kissing him popped up and attacked his brain again.
“Whoa! What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, slightly shocked at Arthur’s sudden act.
“Nothing,” Arthur said, managing to regain his composure and acted as if nothing happened. He returned to sliding the cardkey through the slot again-only to start seeing red when the bloody door refused to open.
“It’s the other way around,” Alfred piped up suddenly, sounding a bit too close for Arthur’s comfort. The American was standing beside Arthur and took the cardkey from his hand. “You have to slide it this way.” He turned the card and slid it. A small ‘piit’ was heard and the door clicked open.
“Thanks,” Arthur grumbled, taking the card from Alfred’s hand and dragged the suitcases into the spacious room.
“Hey! Name?” Alfred queried when Arthur started to close the door. His hands were holding the doorknob, preventing the Briton from closing the door.
“… Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland,” Arthur answered after few seconds of glaring at the young American.
“Kirkland?” Alfred cocked his head to the side. “You couldn’t be related to Peter Kirkland and Patrick Kirkland, do you?”
Arthur gulped and shivered involuntarily hearing his other younger brother’s name. “Yes…? They’re my brothers.” He finally admitted.
“Woah! I didn’t know Patrick has another younger brother! He’s my senior!”
Yo-younger? Arthur scowled and then realized that Patrick must have just graduated from the school, and Arthur was supposed to be younger than him right now. “Ehem… I’ve been living in England all this time so…”
“So that means you are old man Kirkland’s son?” Alfred asked again. “Awesome! He’s a good friend of my dad! My dad is a consul in Britain!”
Right. Now this was getting a bit troublesome. A son of his father’s friend was in this school-probably one of the thieves-and if he was not, Arthur’s cover would most probably be blown if Arthur’s father said anything about his third son to Alfred’s dad.
“Yeah. Whatever. Now, Jones… I don’t want to be rude but I need to get ready to see the Headmaster,” Arthur said, trying to change the topic. He was not lying completely-he did have to meet the Headmaster. The Goddess of Fortune must have been on Arthur’s side right now because someone was calling Alfred from the other side of the corridor.
“Al! Come here for a sec! I need your help!”
Alfred backed away slightly. “Coming, Matt!” He turned back to Arthur and grinned. “That’s my brother. See ya later, Artie!”
Arthur, without taking another glance or checking whoever Alfred’s brother was, slammed the door with unnecessary force. He stood still for a moment, the way Alfred calling him ‘Artie’ was almost like the same way Hero called him-full of amusement and childish mockery. His cell phone vibrated again and he groaned. The Headmaster was waiting for him and Arthur hated it when he made someone wait. He would have to investigate that Jones kid later.
--
Julius Vargas, Headmaster of International Academy of Hetalia, was a very laidback Italian. He was a friend of Commander Weillschmidt hence Arthur thought that he must be as old as the Commander. Well, not only as old, the Headmaster also looked as though he was still in his forties, like Commander Weillschmidt. For two over sixty years old men, the Headmaster and Commander Weillschmidt sure didn’t look like it.
“-And you will be on the same class as my cute little grandsons, Agent Kirkland!” The Headmaster exclaimed loudly, breaking Arthur out of his stupor.
“…Right. But I hope you know that there will be no exceptions to who the suspects are, Headmaster,” Arthur said. “Every student and staff in this school is a suspect until I can find the real thieves.”
“Ahahahahaha! Of course, Agent Kirkland! You’re the one who knows the thieves best!” Headmaster Vargas laughed a bit too loudly for Arthur’s taste and patted the blonde’s shoulder. “Anyone on your ‘hit-list’ already?”
“I have my suspicions on a few people here, Headmaster.” It was Francis who answered the question. “Of course, it is all based on the characteristics our Agent Kirkland gave us. But I’m not really sure yet, so I’ll inform you about it later.”
“Headmaster, Sir? Do you know anything about Alfred F. Jones?” Arthur asked. Francis’ eyebrow shot up and he looked at Arthur sharply. “Aside from the fact that he’s a consul’s son.”
“Oh! The cute American boy?”
Surely, the Headmaster had a much wider vocabulary that didn’t just consist of the word ‘cute’ right? Arthur coughed and nodded. “Yes, Sir. He bears a couple of similarities with Hero. Any information, Sir?”
“I can’t tell you much, Agent Kirkland. The only thing I know that he’s the academy’s sweetheart. Everyone loves him and adores him. Quite a little troublemaker he is, that boy, especially if he teams up with Germania’s grandson- name’s Gilbert by the way-but he’s a fine boy! And smart! And cute too! But not as cute as my cute little Feliciano, of course. My grandson is just…”
And the Headmaster went back to his little world again. Arthur sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. Exhaustion was finally taking over him and he really needed a good sleep.
“I think you can go now, Arthur,” Francis told him, he tapped Arthur’s shoulder and the Briton couldn’t help but shy away immediately. That hand was dangerous after all. “I’ll send you the information about my suspects later. You can check it using the laptop the agency has provided. Have you checked all of your equipment?”
“What equipment?”
“The equipment that you need to carry out your investigations-your earpiece, laptop, tapping wires, that kind of stuff. Surely you’ve checked the suitcase sent to you, right?”
“Oh… Those. I’ve seen them, I’ll just check them later.”
“Can you manage them?” Francis frowned, scratching his chin lightly. And then there it was, that seductive smile again. “Or I need to teach you how to use them?” He offered with barely concealed snicker.
“No need to emphasize that you’ve got to be the teacher every goddamn time, Bonnefoy,” Arthur hissed. He knew that the way Francis emphasized teach wasn’t because the Frenchman wanted to tease him about the whole teacher-student thing, but more because of his perversity. He quickly fled the Headmaster office, leaving Francis laughing boisterously together with Headmaster Vargas, both laughing for a completely different reason. He thought that he would go insane even before he capture the two thieves if he had to spend more time with that perverted Frenchman.
Even though the day was still early, Arthur immediately fell into a deep slumber the moment his body touched the bed. He was just too damn tired to deal with anything and any thoughts on checking on whatever blasted equipments he got was pushed to the back of his mind-he could do all of those later. For now, he needed his sleep.
--
“So, you’ve said your hello?”
“Uh-hum. Hehehehe…”
“What’s so funny?”
“This is going to be awesome, Knight! I can’t wait to start round one!”
“Tch! Of course it’ll be fucking awesome. You’re talking about me; the Awesome Knight!”
“Yeah, yeah, whateve-HEY! Your chicks are pecking on my chicken burger! They’re cannibals!”
“…You will be the victim of cannibalism if you don’t stop harassing my awesome pets, Hero.”
“Ouch! … Hey! You didn’t have to hit me for that!”
---
Endnote: Dum dum dum dum! *drumrolls*
Yay! Finally Alfred appears! Continue in the next chapter, yo! XDv
Footnotes about the hows, whys, whats, and whos can be seen here as usual.
Comments please. I… need them like I need air. -sniffs- I offer some (light) fanservice in the next chapter so PLEASE! ;__;
If you spot any mistakes (grammars, typos) that probably have been missed by my beta or me, please don’t hesitate to point it out. 8D
Fandom:: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character(s):: Arthur Kirkland, Alfred F. Jones, Francis Bonnefoy, Peter Kirkland, Robert Kirkland, Julius Vargas
Pairing(s):: Eventual Alfred/Arthur and all pairings you could possibly think of in later chapters.
Rating:: PG-13.
Chapter Word count:: 3234
Total Word Count:: 10619
Warning:: slight language
Disclaimer: Nessie is not mine, the Leprechaun is not mine, the unicorn is not mine, and the faerie isn’t mine also. So what makes you think I owned Hetalia? Oh and those magical creatures I mentioned don’t have anything to do with the chapter
Beta’d by:
chocobo_ed. Thank you for doing another great job, girl. Now rest and don’t force yourself to beta the next chapter. WRITE YOUR FIC! I need more crack. XD
A/N: I was not supposed to update again this week, you know. So thank my awesome beta for another quick update, dear readers. And don't get used to the massively quick updates. It'll be sporadic once I run out of chapters too publish. This chapter… Kufufufu~ Guess who's coming?
Act I: The Beginning || Act II: The Plan || Act III: The Other Agents || Act IV: The Academy || Act V: The Masquerade || Act VI: The Class
Act IV: The Academy
“Peter! Let go of Arthur this instant and go back to your dormitory!”
“I don’t want to! I want to be here!”
“Oh for goodness sake, just go back! We need to work, Peter!”
“Hey! Don’t smack my head, jerk Robert!”
“That’s because you are such an obnoxious little brat. Now, scram or I’ll tell Father you are misbehaving again! I’ll make sure Father detains you this time.”
Arthur closed his eyes and tried to tune out the screaming, yelling and thrashing from his head. The four of them-(Francis, Robert, Peter and himself) were seated in the car, trying to keep a low profile. Arthur was seated at the back of the car with a very adamant Peter still clinging onto his arm. Robert was trying to pry the little boy away.
After a few minutes of struggling and screaming, Robert finally dragged Peter out of the car and took him to the dormitory. After that, he got back inside the car and ordered Francis to drive to their mini base.
“So, Artie, you do know what you are going to do, right?” Robert asked suddenly from the passenger’s seat, looking over his shoulders and smirked.
Arthur could feel his skin tingling with uneasiness-his brother’s smirk had always made him nervous. “Of course I know! I’ve been in handling this case since the beginning,” he answered. “I’m sure I-”
“-And yet you are still unable to catch them,” his brother interjected sharply. Arthur huffed and looked away. “You’re fortunate that Mr.Weillschmidt still has some confidence in you. I didn’t agree to this actually, you know. You are not even capable of stopping two gits of thieves and yet the Commander made you an Interpol Agent?” Robert gritted his teeth and turned back to the front. Francis kept his silence and looked a bit uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere.
“If I were Mr. Weillschmidt, I would have sacked you,” Robert added again. “How many times you’ve had the chance to capture them?”
“Five…” Arthur muttered his answer, still avoiding the need to see Robert.
“Tch!” His brother spat, Arthur could feel that he must be rolling his eyes now. “You’d better be not screw up this time, Artie. Or I’ll make sure you won’t be in this line of work anywhere again.”
“I know! And stop calling me Artie!” Arthur burst out angrily. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Robert!”
“That’s ‘Boss’ to you, Agent Kirkland,” said Robert, his tone changing drastically from mocking to serious. “Faster, Agent Bonnefoy! We can’t waste more time!” He ordered Francis, who just sighed and wondered why he had to be the one suffering the wrath of his so called boss over some private family disputes.
--
The mini base was, Arthur thought, not so mini at all. The size of the base was actually almost one and a half times his small flat in London. The small building was located some two hundreds metre away from the back of the main building. It was hidden from view by the thick green shrubs and some tall trees. What was a small house that could contain a family of five doing in the middle of nowhere befuddled Arthur’s mind completely.
As soon as Arthur stepped in to the base, he swore that he must have lost his sense of smell. Towers of empty takeaways were stacked high all over the room, with the monitors and other electronic devices taking up majority of the space. There were a number of people hunched over on their chairs, their seemingly unblinking gaze fixed at the glowing monitors, which was showing a live feed of every part of the school. Now he knew why Francis didn’t want to go back here the night before; a dandy man like him would not want to spend even ten minutes inside this… gruesome place.
The team sent by the Interpol consisted of seven agents, including Arthur himself. They were: his brother (the team leader), Francis (who was posing as the French language teacher), Arthur himself (posing as the student), a young Estonian boy who was actually a real student in Hetalia Academy (being the computer freak and genius that he was, the Interpol hired him immediately), a girly Finnish man as their informant, a creepy Swedish man (whose speech was beyond Arthur’s understanding) and a Danish man (who was over eager about anything and everything).
After the agents exchanged brief introductions between the seven of them, Arthur, Robert and Francis were once again inside the car and returned to the front side of the school. Now, there were only a few people (Arthur spotted three Asian teens trying to drag their other hyperactive Asian-presumably their friend- into the dormitory) wandering around outside.
“You will meet Headmaster Vargas in half an hour,” Robert informed him as Arthur dragged his suitcases out. “He’ll tell you everything you need to know about the school- what you can do and cannot do. Francis here will check on you every now and then to make sure you do your work, Agent Kirkland.”
“I know! You don’t need to remind me every time,” Arthur grumbled, annoyed with how his brother seemed to underestimate his ability.
“I’ll remind you about this every time until you capture the thieves,” Robert added fiercely. “Don’t be reckless and use your brain. If you are as smart as I think you are, you will be able to find them in no time.”
Arthur turned around, his eyes wide in disbelief. Had his ears gone wrong or did Robert, his jerk of a brother, say something about having confidence in him on being able to nab the thieves?
“Do your job too, Agent Bonnefoy,” Robert turned sharply to Francis. “Don’t let your perversity block your brain function.”
“Oui, oui. I understand, Boss,” said Francis, scratching his chin lightly.
Robert left the both of them before Arthur could even form a reply.
His brother was really hard to understand sometimes, Arthur thought. He slowly made his way towards the dormitory, dragging his suitcase along the bumpy road.
“Your room is on the second floor-it is number 207. The Headmaster have specially arranged for you to stay alone so you can work without having to worry about the kids. Take the room key from the dorm keeper, ask around for directions and you’ll find it. I’ll be waiting for you in the Headmaster office, Arthur,” Francis said and walked off into the opposite direction.
Arthur’s eyebrow started twitching in annoyance as soon as his name left Francis’ lips. The both of them had interacted with each other for less than twenty four hours and now they were on first name basis already? “Some people are just so rude,” the Briton muttered.
Arthur clutched his suddenly aching stomach. The uneasiness was coming again. Arthur didn’t know why, but he was extremely nervous about stepping one foot inside the dormitory. He took a deep breath and took the first step. He could do this-he wouldn’t let the feeling of being out of place hinder his job.
Slowly dragging the suitcases, Arthur looked around the dormitory. There were children of all ages walking and running around. He silently hoped that Peter was securely locked in his room-after all; Arthur did not want to attract any unnecessary attention. After taking the key to his room from the dorm keeper (a strange, silent Egyptian man), he made his way through the mass of children and into the elevator.
There were some teens other than Arthur inside the elevator-and all of them were staring at him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world. Arthur fidgeted, uncomfortable with the way the young kids were looking at him. Fortunately, his room was on the second floor, where most of the students on the same year as him stayed, so he could leave the elevator in just a few seconds. As soon as the elevator doors slid opened, Arthur quickly walked out, relief settling in him on the fact that he was not the centre of the attention anymore.
“Wait! Wait! I want to get in too!” A young man with dark brown hair (a single curly hair was hanging by the teen’s left ear) ran passed and quickly shoved himself inside the elevator. “I want to see if they have pastaa~”
“Feliciano, you bastard!” another teen yelled. Arthur had to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating but this other young man had the same face-albeit a bit more sour-like the other brown haired teen. The teen named Feliciano had his curly hair by his left ear, but this other teen had his curly hair by his fringe, curling to the right side. “Don’t fucking leave me here!” And a rude mouth to boot, too.
“Ve~ Hurry up, Brother!”
The elevator shut close and Arthur was left standing in the empty corridor. He looked around and swore that there were multiple small cameras in almost every corner of the corridor. He scowled deeply at one of the camera and proceeded to find his room. However, there were too many rooms and he had to walk around for ten full minutes before finally arriving at his room-it was by the stairs leading to the first and third floor. Before he could open the door to his room, his cell phone (the one given by Robert when they were in the mini base) started to vibrate, signalling an incoming call.
“Hello?”
“You’re late, mon ami.” It was Francis, and he was using those French words on Arthur again. “The Headmaster is waiting.”
“Wait a moment, will you? I have to get into my bloody room first!” Arthur hissed loudly. At the same moment the door of the room beside his opened, and a tall blonde man with a pair of glasses decked out in a pair washed out jeans and an unbuttoned navy blue shirt (he wore a black undershirt) walked out of the room. He had this strange tuft of hair poking out by his hairline (the students here have very strange hairstyles, was what Arthur thinking right now). The man caught sight of Arthur and their eyes met.
“Shut it, frog! I’ll go there in a minute,” Arthur muttered and then slipped the phone back to his pocket. “Good afternoon,” he greeted the blonde man.
“… New student?” This man was certainly didn’t know manners because instead of answering Arthur’s greeting, he started questioning Arthur instead. The young man leant by the doorframe and looked over Arthur, a small smile creeping up to his face.
“Ye-yeah. I just got transferred here,” Arthur answered, blushing because of the sheer embarrassment of having to pose as a young student few years younger rather than his actual age. He had to act like a damn teenager and he hated it.
“Oh! British?” The other blonde asked again, noticing Arthur’s accent.
Arthur nodded and tore his eyes away from him-he had realized that the young man had blue eyes and that made him feel a bit uneasy-those eyes strongly reminded him of that thief. He took the cardkey to his room (Fancy school, fancy security locking system, Arthur thought) out of his pocket and slid it over the electronic lock.
It remained locked.
Arthur tried and tried again but somehow, no matter how many times Arthur repeated the process, the door wouldn’t open.
“Alfred F. Jones.”
Arthur stopped sliding the electronic cardkey and turned to the young man again. “I beg your pardon?”
“My name,” the blonde said, smiling brightly as he offered his hand. “What’s yours?”
The Briton scowled deeply. He should not be too friendly with anyone because every single person in this school was a suspect-except for the kids and women maybe. In addition, this particular young man who called himself Alfred F. Jones reminded him too much of that blasted pervert thief-Hero-with his overly bright blue eyes and that annoying American accent. Arthur banged his head to the door when the memory of the thief kissing him popped up and attacked his brain again.
“Whoa! What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, slightly shocked at Arthur’s sudden act.
“Nothing,” Arthur said, managing to regain his composure and acted as if nothing happened. He returned to sliding the cardkey through the slot again-only to start seeing red when the bloody door refused to open.
“It’s the other way around,” Alfred piped up suddenly, sounding a bit too close for Arthur’s comfort. The American was standing beside Arthur and took the cardkey from his hand. “You have to slide it this way.” He turned the card and slid it. A small ‘piit’ was heard and the door clicked open.
“Thanks,” Arthur grumbled, taking the card from Alfred’s hand and dragged the suitcases into the spacious room.
“Hey! Name?” Alfred queried when Arthur started to close the door. His hands were holding the doorknob, preventing the Briton from closing the door.
“… Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland,” Arthur answered after few seconds of glaring at the young American.
“Kirkland?” Alfred cocked his head to the side. “You couldn’t be related to Peter Kirkland and Patrick Kirkland, do you?”
Arthur gulped and shivered involuntarily hearing his other younger brother’s name. “Yes…? They’re my brothers.” He finally admitted.
“Woah! I didn’t know Patrick has another younger brother! He’s my senior!”
Yo-younger? Arthur scowled and then realized that Patrick must have just graduated from the school, and Arthur was supposed to be younger than him right now. “Ehem… I’ve been living in England all this time so…”
“So that means you are old man Kirkland’s son?” Alfred asked again. “Awesome! He’s a good friend of my dad! My dad is a consul in Britain!”
Right. Now this was getting a bit troublesome. A son of his father’s friend was in this school-probably one of the thieves-and if he was not, Arthur’s cover would most probably be blown if Arthur’s father said anything about his third son to Alfred’s dad.
“Yeah. Whatever. Now, Jones… I don’t want to be rude but I need to get ready to see the Headmaster,” Arthur said, trying to change the topic. He was not lying completely-he did have to meet the Headmaster. The Goddess of Fortune must have been on Arthur’s side right now because someone was calling Alfred from the other side of the corridor.
“Al! Come here for a sec! I need your help!”
Alfred backed away slightly. “Coming, Matt!” He turned back to Arthur and grinned. “That’s my brother. See ya later, Artie!”
Arthur, without taking another glance or checking whoever Alfred’s brother was, slammed the door with unnecessary force. He stood still for a moment, the way Alfred calling him ‘Artie’ was almost like the same way Hero called him-full of amusement and childish mockery. His cell phone vibrated again and he groaned. The Headmaster was waiting for him and Arthur hated it when he made someone wait. He would have to investigate that Jones kid later.
--
Julius Vargas, Headmaster of International Academy of Hetalia, was a very laidback Italian. He was a friend of Commander Weillschmidt hence Arthur thought that he must be as old as the Commander. Well, not only as old, the Headmaster also looked as though he was still in his forties, like Commander Weillschmidt. For two over sixty years old men, the Headmaster and Commander Weillschmidt sure didn’t look like it.
“-And you will be on the same class as my cute little grandsons, Agent Kirkland!” The Headmaster exclaimed loudly, breaking Arthur out of his stupor.
“…Right. But I hope you know that there will be no exceptions to who the suspects are, Headmaster,” Arthur said. “Every student and staff in this school is a suspect until I can find the real thieves.”
“Ahahahahaha! Of course, Agent Kirkland! You’re the one who knows the thieves best!” Headmaster Vargas laughed a bit too loudly for Arthur’s taste and patted the blonde’s shoulder. “Anyone on your ‘hit-list’ already?”
“I have my suspicions on a few people here, Headmaster.” It was Francis who answered the question. “Of course, it is all based on the characteristics our Agent Kirkland gave us. But I’m not really sure yet, so I’ll inform you about it later.”
“Headmaster, Sir? Do you know anything about Alfred F. Jones?” Arthur asked. Francis’ eyebrow shot up and he looked at Arthur sharply. “Aside from the fact that he’s a consul’s son.”
“Oh! The cute American boy?”
Surely, the Headmaster had a much wider vocabulary that didn’t just consist of the word ‘cute’ right? Arthur coughed and nodded. “Yes, Sir. He bears a couple of similarities with Hero. Any information, Sir?”
“I can’t tell you much, Agent Kirkland. The only thing I know that he’s the academy’s sweetheart. Everyone loves him and adores him. Quite a little troublemaker he is, that boy, especially if he teams up with Germania’s grandson- name’s Gilbert by the way-but he’s a fine boy! And smart! And cute too! But not as cute as my cute little Feliciano, of course. My grandson is just…”
And the Headmaster went back to his little world again. Arthur sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. Exhaustion was finally taking over him and he really needed a good sleep.
“I think you can go now, Arthur,” Francis told him, he tapped Arthur’s shoulder and the Briton couldn’t help but shy away immediately. That hand was dangerous after all. “I’ll send you the information about my suspects later. You can check it using the laptop the agency has provided. Have you checked all of your equipment?”
“What equipment?”
“The equipment that you need to carry out your investigations-your earpiece, laptop, tapping wires, that kind of stuff. Surely you’ve checked the suitcase sent to you, right?”
“Oh… Those. I’ve seen them, I’ll just check them later.”
“Can you manage them?” Francis frowned, scratching his chin lightly. And then there it was, that seductive smile again. “Or I need to teach you how to use them?” He offered with barely concealed snicker.
“No need to emphasize that you’ve got to be the teacher every goddamn time, Bonnefoy,” Arthur hissed. He knew that the way Francis emphasized teach wasn’t because the Frenchman wanted to tease him about the whole teacher-student thing, but more because of his perversity. He quickly fled the Headmaster office, leaving Francis laughing boisterously together with Headmaster Vargas, both laughing for a completely different reason. He thought that he would go insane even before he capture the two thieves if he had to spend more time with that perverted Frenchman.
Even though the day was still early, Arthur immediately fell into a deep slumber the moment his body touched the bed. He was just too damn tired to deal with anything and any thoughts on checking on whatever blasted equipments he got was pushed to the back of his mind-he could do all of those later. For now, he needed his sleep.
--
“So, you’ve said your hello?”
“Uh-hum. Hehehehe…”
“What’s so funny?”
“This is going to be awesome, Knight! I can’t wait to start round one!”
“Tch! Of course it’ll be fucking awesome. You’re talking about me; the Awesome Knight!”
“Yeah, yeah, whateve-HEY! Your chicks are pecking on my chicken burger! They’re cannibals!”
“…You will be the victim of cannibalism if you don’t stop harassing my awesome pets, Hero.”
“Ouch! … Hey! You didn’t have to hit me for that!”
---
Endnote: Dum dum dum dum! *drumrolls*
Yay! Finally Alfred appears! Continue in the next chapter, yo! XDv
Footnotes about the hows, whys, whats, and whos can be seen here as usual.
Comments please. I… need them like I need air. -sniffs- I offer some (light) fanservice in the next chapter so PLEASE! ;__;
If you spot any mistakes (grammars, typos) that probably have been missed by my beta or me, please don’t hesitate to point it out. 8D