fic: The Trouble With Americans...: Chapter 3
Title: The Trouble With Americans...
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairings/Characters: Kiku, Alfred, Feliciano, Romano, Antonio
Rating: PG
Warnings: offensive stereotyping, racial humor, offensive ethnic jokes, profanity, and generally Alfred just being an ignorant American.
Summary: Highschool AU. The exploration of the strange friendship between a studious Japanese boy and a rowdy, loud-mouthed blond American. Pre-slash. Eventual Alfred/Kiku
Chapter 1: Ethnicity
Chapter 2: Disipline
The Trouble With Americans...
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3. math: ma·th [ma-th]
Relating to any of the basic or advanced ideas revolving around numbers, including but not limited to: addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, and algebra.
Every Asian is born clutching an abacus with knowledge of basic calculus.
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So far, Kiku's day had not been going well. Aside from the fact that he'd been late to school, (thanks to the city's ridiculously unreliable public transportation system) he'd also forgotten one of his notebooks, tripped going up the third-floor staircase, and stepped on a piece of blue chewing gum in the hallway. Mind you, this had all happened before he'd even made it into first period. It wasn't until third period that he'd even realized he had two different socks on!-they were both white, but the stitching was still noticeably different. He tried tugging down his pant-leg in hopes of covering them up.
Even worse, third period was his least favorite class-because not only was he seated next to his least favorite person, being forced to learn his least favorite language-but all while being taught by the person who was most definitely his least favorite teacher.
It was his Spanish teacher's attitude that bothered him the most. Unlike all of the other teachers whose emotions only teeter-tottered between angry and annoyed, this teacher was constantly cheerful. Kiku figured that if he had to be miserable, his teacher ought to have to be too. Even worse, he was one of those young, fresh-out-of-college sort of teachers. The kind of teachers that think the children are the future and that even inner-city kids have some hope. He was also the sort of adult that still very much wanted to fit in, as if his students were still his peers.
He was the sort of adult that was always trying out the latest slang and butting in on the personal conversations of his students (not that Kiku had any to but in on-but he'd seen it happen.) He was also a little too touchy-feely for Kiku's liking. Personal space was imperative to Kiku. The Japanese weren't the sort of people who just went up and hugged people. They especially weren't the sort used to teachers casually stroking their neck or back. Luckily, Kiku's Spanish teacher didn't seem to have any particular interest in Asians.
Kiku sighed and resisted the urge to chew on his mechanical pencil.
Mr. Hernandez chuckled and Kiku nearly jumped out of his skin. He glanced up nervously, casually attempting to cover his paper with his arm-praying the teacher wouldn't notice he hadn't written anything yet.
“Tiene problemas?” Mr. Hernandez inquired, and although Kiku could tell from the inflection of his voice that it was a question, he really had no idea what he was saying. English was difficult enough to master as it was, Kiku didn't have time to waste trying to learn another entire language-especially one that he would most likely never use outside of secondary school.
Kiku realized with a jolt that the teacher was still smiling down at him with twinkling green eyes. Kiku wished he was someplace else. Anyplace else. Mr. Hernandez gave Kiku chills-and not the good sort, either.
The teacher laughed at what Kiku could only assume was his own stupidity. “I said, having trouble?” Great, now Kiku felt even less intelligent. It was a feeling he was beginning to get used too, but detest nonetheless.
“Um, yes, it's just that-I'm not understanding this very well...” He hated to say it, he really did. He'd made all sorts of promises to himself the day before that he would go home and read ahead in his Spanish textbook in order to catch up with the rest of the class-a class that already seemed capable of conjugating most Spanish verbs.
The problem hadn't been a lack of time or determination, but rather, the fact that this school didn't allow its students to take textbooks home. Apparently the likelihood that they would ever be returned was far too slim.
“It's very easy, it's like this!” The teacher started, tucking a curly lock behind his ear. “The answer to this one is saber-that means to know-so that makes number three tener! Understand?”
Kiku managed a jerky nod. He most certainly did not understand. His teacher merely telling him the answers had no more furthered his education than if Kiku had merely turned to the right and copied the answers from the boy next to him. He didn't understand any better when Mr. Hernandez supplied him with a word bank. When was the actual teaching part of teacher going to come in?
Kiku glanced around the room nervously.
There was a large black board at the front of the room with sloppily scrawled Spanish and English, and a poster just to right depicting the correct pronunciations of the alphabet in Spanish. Hanging on the door was another poster, this time listing what Kiku assumed to be the names of colors. On top of the filing cabinet was a basket filled with various plastic fruits-and for what that was necessary for, Kiku couldn't even guess.
The teacher's desk was on the far left of the room, cluttered and piled high with stacks of papers, leaving the student's desks lined up in crooked rows in the center. Beneath all the desks were metal grate-like baskets, and in them sat their Spanish textbooks (the 1995 edition) with tattered covers and torn-out pages. Mr. Hernandez said they didn't need them anyway.
Kiku wasn't so sure.
“Okay, now I'm going to need someone to pass out the worksheets-Feliciano and Lovino?” Mr. Hernandez smiled pleasantly at the class, despite not a single student having noticed that he'd begun speaking.
He stood at the front of the room with his held tilted to the side, that stupid smile plastered on his face. It was sort of eerie, the way he could just stand there with that warm smile, waiting for the class to quiet as the minutes ticked by.
Nothing happened. If anything, the chatter increased, the sleeping students began snoring, and from the sound of it, a game of tag was being initiated in the hallway.
Kiku watched from the corner of his eye as Mr. Hernandez began making his way over crashed paper airplanes and schoolbags. So as long as he didn't turn in Kiku's direction, he was safe. He stopped at Feliciano's desk and leaned down to smile.
The instructor must have said something then (Kiku couldn't hear over the talking) because Feliciano grinned and nodded. His twin huffed. While Feliciano had seemed like a nice enough person at first, Kiku was beginning to find him increasingly strange. In fact, Kiku was beginning to find his school increasingly strange.
“Tiene problemas?” Someone asked him, just as he'd begun removing his arm from his paper. He quickly covered it back up.
“Um, no!” Kiku said in a rush, hand sweating. “I'm doing fine actually!” He looked up to face the intruder. Alfred smiled.
“Are you sure? 'Cause so far you only got two answers-and I saw Mr. Hernandez come and help you with them.” Kiku really hoped he wasn't blushing. This was so embarrassing.
“Really, I'm quite alright. I'm sure I'll manage fine...”
“It's really easy, just lemme help you. Here-” Alfred began pushing his feet against the floor, slowly propelling his desk backward and making the most ear-bleeding screeching noise against the tile. Kiku could feel his jaw tightening with every movement. Everyone else seemed unaffected. There was definitely something wrong with this school.
“Okay, so I'll write down all the verbs so far...” Alfred easily shoved Kiku's arm aside, snatching his mechanical pencil and obtrusively scribbling at the top of Kiku's paper. The hand-writing was awful, but if Kiku squinted he could make out the letters.
“So this is saber-that means to know. All you gotta do is memorize these words and what they mean-well, actually, you don't even gotta memorize 'em. Just write 'em down somewhere, and when he gives out the worksheets, get out your paper. If it's a test or somethin' just write them on your hand, got it?” Was Alfred implying that Kiku cheat on a test? Was this really his advice?
“You want me to cheat?”
Alfred scratched the back of his neck. “Well, unless you really wanna memorize them and all. Pronouncing them ain't really that hard either, you just gotta learn to roll your r's.” Kiku tilted his head. Alfred couldn't have meant that literally. It just didn't make any sense. There were so many confusing English phrases that Kiku had yet to understand.
“It's like this, like when you say rrrojo.” Kiku couldn't help but notice the way Alfred's tongue moved when he said that. A movement like that with your tongue shouldn't even be possible. He didn't even want to attempt to mimic the action. The failure would be far to embarrassing. Perhaps later, when he was alone in his bedroom in front of his mirror he would try.
His eyes must have widened or something, because then Alfred said:
“Hey! It's not that hard. You'll probably get it eventually. An even if you don't, who cares? Just do like I said and write the stuff on your hand.”
Kiku offered a weak smile. “Thank you, but I don't think I could bring myself to cheat.” In Japan, the consequences for being caught cheating were very great. Things like that weren't taken lightly.
“Well-hey! I could help you sometimes if you want!” Alfred said enthusiastically. Kiku was beginning to learn that Alfred did most things rather enthusiastically.
“Sure! It'll be great!” Alfred continued on, not bothering to wait for Kiku to answer.
“I know! You're good in Algebra, right?” Kiku gave him a look. How could Alfred possibly know something like that?
“I'm fairly proficient, yes. But how did you know?”
“Well duh-I know 'cause your Asian! So this is great-you help me with Algebra, and I'll help you with Spanish. It's a win-win, right?”
Kiku gave a small smile. “I suppose it will have to be.”
With that they both stood, the sound of the bell alerting the students that it was time to switch classes. As they stood up, Alfred gave him the strangest look, sending Kiku into a nervous fit of feeling all over his face for some sort of left-over rice from this morning. Perhaps there was seaweed stuck between his teeth?
“Hey,” Alfred started, “Did you know that you're wearing two different socks?”
Kiku paled and hurried out of the classroom before someone else could notice.
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Chapter 4: BDSM
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