Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.

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Minimal fluff 09!

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As If the Year Wasn't Hard Enough!

It had been a complete mistake, a slip of the tongue. Romano had not planned on telling his brother anything about the whole situation but when they got home, Feliciano went on a tangent about his day, how he nearly skipped fourth and fifth period when he discovered Home Econ was cooking pasta that day, how he had heard of this awesome carnival thing that was happening that weekend and would Romano want to go? Knowing Feliciano, Romano figured that the carnival outing would probably turn into one big caramel apple filled afternoon with his stupid little brother bothering everyone from school who showed up. In an attempt to slip out of going, he said he had something else to do and when Feliciano asked what, he had just accidentally said it, completely forgetting to think before he spoke.

"Eh?! You're going on a date with Spain-sempai?!"

"S-shut up! I am not!"

"Yes it is," Feliciano insisted as he turned his backpack upside down and let his homework fall onto the bed. "You said you were going out with him on Saturday. It's a date."

"It is not a date."

Feliciano stared at him in confusion. "Then what is it?"

Romano sighed, willing the furious blush that had settled on his cheeks to go away. "He was just saying that I had to practice my Spanish more and one thing led to another…"

--

The third years at UN High were required to offer a service to the school, be it helping out after school, tutoring, or donating to the scholarship fund. It was under the 'give-back-to-the-community' sort of thing and many just donated to the fund to escape work. Spain was not one of them.

English being the main language spoken and understood by all, the secondary languages taught at UN included Spanish, French, German, Latin, and Chinese. Romano had figured that Spanish would probably be the easiest to sail through since he was quite fluent in Italian and the two languages were drop dead similar anyway. He was sure he could just screw with the teacher and slide by the rest of the year with a low A, A- if he was unlucky. When he had shadowed the school as a third year in middle school, the Spanish teacher was an old fogey who seemed as if he was breathing his last breath on every single one he took. If he played his cards right, Romano was certain the class would be a laugh.

Then he actually attended the class and discovered his carefully laid plan destroyed.

Spain, who had basically grown up with Spanish, offered to teach the class as his way of helping the school instead of learning a third year of the language when he was already much past that level. The principle, Rome, saw no problem with it and allowed the cheerful third year to get a taste of the classroom. Romano walked in, expecting a dying old man at the front and instead getting a healthy, younger one instead.

In short, it became his mission to make Spain's life a living hell.

"Romano, how would you say 'to like' in Spanish?"

"Fuck off."

He had tried to rally the rest of the class into rebelling against this newbie teacher, but all the girls tactfully ignored him and clamored for the sensei's attention – after all, out of the classroom, Spain was still a third year. The boys had followed his direction for a few days before chickening out since there was an army of girls to suffer under if anyone so much as upset Spain. In the end, Romano was a one-man army in the class and the girls would have clawed his throat out if Spain didn't seem so okay with the treatment.

His attempt at rebellion got so out of hand that he had stopped learning altogether in the class and was failing it while relatively passing his other courses. Rome, also the brothers' grandfather, had a talk with him that he barely listened to. Feliciano also tried to say something but Romano blocked him out as well. Finally, at the end of one of the classes, Spain held him back as a last resort.

"Romano? What's wrong? Why are you always so difficult? If you don't want to learn Spanish, you could always take French."

"I don't like French people." The student body's epitome of the French would happen to be France, a pervy third year who liked to feel up anything that moved. Currently, he was chasing after a certain second year whose twin brother was currently going out with the student council president, England.

"What about Latin?"

"Dead language."

"There's always Chinese."

"The kids who take Chinese scare me." Indeed, all the Chinese students were Asian, save Estonia who found it imperative to take all the languages to be well-rounded. Japan was a loner who often hung out with the resident junkie, Greece. Korea was always trying to one-up everyone. Hong Kong blankly stared at you when you talked to him. Taiwan seemed lost in her own world…they just formed a very odd gang that was much more intimidating than they seemed.

"I don't think you're bad at Spanish," Spain said, changing the subject as he pulled up a chair to sit next to Romano, who notably turned away in his seat. Leaning on the desk, Spain tried to study Romano's face. "Rome-sensei said you have a good background in Italian. So you shouldn't have too bad of a problem with Spanish. What's wrong? Do you not like the class?"

"I don't like you," Romano muttered.

"Ah. Well, I'm sorry to hear that." There was a pause and Romano continued staring out the window stubbornly. "But you're going to have to bring up your grade soon. I can't have you failing this course."

"Why not? Why do you care?"

Spain shrugged. "I don't know. You just can't. If you don't do well, I'm going to have to tutor you so you'll have to suffer through me some more. Do you want that?"

"No." Romano hadn't even thought about that.

"Then why don't I help you practice a bit so you'll get caught up? Are you free anytime after school?"

"I'm busy all the time after school," Romano lied, knowing full well that he lazed around at home immediately after the last bell rang. "Oh, and during school too. I've got a full schedule," he added as Spain opened his mouth again.

"Then when are you free?"

Romano turned with a glare and opened his mouth to answer when Spain cut him off. "And don't say 'Never' because I know that's not true. There's got to be some when you don't have anything to do."

Romano closed his mouth and continued to sulk, glaring at the clock. He honestly wished he had another class to go to but Spanish was his last class of the day and since he walked home and everyone knew it, it would hurt no one if he left school late.

"What about the weekend?"

Aiming a look of pure loathing, Romano accidentally met with Spain's eager green eyes and looked away quickly. "I guess so," he mumbled.

"Great! I'll see you on Saturday then." Sounding a lot happier than usual, Spain stood up and moved the chair back to the desk he had took it from. Romano had stared at him dumbfoundedly and Spain merely grinned back as he got his bookbag and whistled as he walked out of the empty classroom.

--

"It's a date," Feliciano announced.

"It is not a date."

"It is too! Look!" Feliciano held up his hands before Romano could refute. "First of all, you're going with him just the two of you, right? And it's really got nothing to do with school since you're not going to be at the school! It's a date! Spain-sempai just asked you out!"

It was hard to debunk the cold, hard facts and Romano didn't attempt to as he felt the flush on his face come back in full force. "W…well, what about you, then? I'm sure you're going to see that stupid tutor of yours at the carnival, right?"

Feliciano giggled (yes, giggled). It was an established truth that the younger Italy brother had only taken German because he learned that a certain third year, not naming names (Germany), was a tutor for that course. Romano didn't really know how Feliciano met Germany, nor did he care, but all he knew was the tutoring sessions had strange quirks to it: whenever Feliciano got something right, Germany was supposed to 'reward' him, whatever that meant. Romano knew all that meant was he was going to look the other way when Feliciano undressed one night and revealed a rather large hickey on his neck.

"Yep, I think Germany will be there!" Honestly, that brother of his made him sick. Germany was such a weirdo; he was always so rigid and routine in doing almost everything and he came to school some Mondays smelling like beer. Romano didn't want to know.

"But anyway, Romano, what are you going to do? I know! You and Spain should come to the carnival. Yep, yep, I bet you should. It's going to be fun. Fun stuff. Right? You'll come, right?"

"It's not a date, Feliciano," Romano insisted, glaring at his younger brother who was swimming in the oversized school-issued sweater he was wearing.

"Um, yes it is. Ask Spain-sempai. I bet he'll agree with me. It's a date. Yes, it is." Feliciano clapped his hands. "You two are going on a Verabredung."

"Please don't talk German with me, you idiot."

--

Romano didn't bother himself with worrying about what others thought, but if Feliciano thought it was a date…could it be? That brother of his was usually so dim witted about everything and if even he thought it was that obvious…as soon as Spanish was over and the classroom cleared (he waited for the girl stragglers who wanted to impress Spain with their butchered renditions of Spanish poems), he went up to Spain's desk. "Spain…this thing we're going on on Saturday…is it a date?"

Spain stared blankly at him. "It can be if you want," he said slowly. Romano's face heated up and he hurried back to get his book so he could escape back home. "Of course not! And anyway, that's illegal. Teachers can't go out with their students."

"Outside the classroom, I'm just your sempai," Spain reminded him, sounding amused. Romano turned to glare at him and Spain shrugged. "I actually never thought about it like that until you mentioned it." Romano had never slammed another door shut as hard as he did for Spain's classroom.

Dammit, how could that smiley little bastard change his words so it sounded like he was interested in Spain? And he wasn't! But what if they really went on this 'date'? They'd be no better than those airheaded couples that existed already! America and England, who attempted (and failed) to hide their sexual tension, was almost always being caught making out in the student council room. There were rumors saying Greece and Japan got high together (strangely enough, the ones who said this were almost always cornered by an army of cats going home). That hideously annoying jock Denmark could constantly be spotted flirting (unsuccessfully) with a second year art student, Norway. All these (not to mention France's escapades) were gleefully shared by all the girls, especially by Hungary, who seemed to know everything about everyone. Romano was determined not to be the subject of a lunch time discussion.

And there was nothing to discuss! He wasn't interested in Spain like that! The only reason why he always sat in the front was to publicly mock that dumb teacher! And despite popular belief, he had not blushed when Spain smiled at him that first day of school! Why else would he try and turn a good day bad? Because he hated (not liked!) Spain!

He was so angry that he accidentally ran into Germany on his way out and when the blonde asked if he was alright, Romano had punched him in the gut and stormed off (Feliciano told him off later but did he really care…).

--

Why was he here.

He had come five minutes late on purpose and Spain really dared to try and stand him up? That was it. He was leaving after another two minutes. Like he didn't look weird enough standing on the street corner all by his lonesome on a nice day. Ignoring the inquisitive glances from the cars passing, Romano glanced at his watch again.

Two minutes were up.

Well, in another two minutes, if Spain didn't come, he'd…

"Romano! I'm sorry I'm late. I was trying to help my neighbor move some stuff…" Romano debated how he ought to answer this blatant provoke. If he said that he had been waiting a long time, then he'd sound over eager. If he said he had just arrived, it would be a lie and he had enough knowledge of watching Rome with his women to know it was a line usually uttered in dates. He decided to attack Spain another way. "Why are you wearing your school uniform?"

Spain looked down at himself, decked in the school-issued blue plaid pants and the brown sweater with the UN school logo. The third year looked up at Romano, in jeans and a black sweater that looked like he had thoughtlessly-yet-thoughtfully thrown them on. "I thought you said you would be more comfortable if it was school related," he explained.

Resisting the urge to punch Spain in the face (after all, there was a police officer patrolling nearby), Romano took a deep breath to calm himself. "Well, can we hurry up and finish whatever this is so we can get on with our lives? Please?"

"Alright."

It started out innocent enough. They walked a bit as Spain pointed out things for Romano to translate and before they knew it, Romano found himself standing in front of the carnival that Feliciano had been gushing about days ago. Eye twitching, Romano only had a second to comprehend how he had gotten here before Spain grabbed his hand and pulled him in, excitingly talking as he did so. "This place's got a lot of things you should know in Spanish, so it'll be perfect practice if we go, okay, Romano?"

"Eh?!" Not only was he entering dangerous territory, but Spain was, yes, holding his hand now! Trying to cover his face with his other hand, Romano quickly caught up to the ecstatic third year and leaned up against him so no one could see they were connected at the hands (somehow it never occurred to him to pull away). Now, however, they were walking together a bit too close for comfort and complete strangers were whispering amongst each other while watching them.

Spain had already dropped the whole translation game and was pointing out random things as if he had never seen or experienced a carnival before. Nervously glancing around to find familiar faces was not a perfect way to spend an afternoon and Romano pulled at Spain's sleeve. "Can you stop talking so loud? I don't want people to see us."

Spain looked at him for a moment before pulling his sweater off hurriedly, breaking his hold for a brief time. Throwing the school sweater over Romano's head, Spain grabbed the first year's hand again and grinned. "Now no one will know who you are. Happy?"

"You asshole," Romano muttered, tugging at the sweater so it successful hid his face. Spain laughed and pulled him along.

For a second, times were actually peaceful, and without the world in sight, Romano could actually afford to catch his breath, and even smi…

"Oh my god! Is that Spain-sempai?!"

"Eeek! It is! And is that Romano-kun?"

"Romano-kun!!"

"And Spain-sempai? Whaat?!"

"Hungary! Hungary-chan, come over here!"

"Eh? Romano?" Romano jumped as he heard his brother's voice squeak. Three guesses was the person Feliciano was pulling along was Germany. Not only had they been spotted by his brother and his little boytoy, but also by Hungary and her best friend Isabel, who was in the very Spanish class Romano was unfortunately part of. Hearing his name, Spain turned to wave when Romano suddenly started running, pulling him along.

"Romano? Why are we running?"

"Kya!! Wait for us!!"

"Run faster, dammit! You don't want them to catch us!"

As the two ran past a bingo tent, two figures in the shadows shifted to see this speculation, still wrapped up in each other's arms. The taller one, wearing glasses and a brown bomber jacket, chuckled and pulled the other closer.

"We have a lot of rowdy kids at UN, huh, England?"

Owari

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Note: Yeah. Yeah. I caved. I wrote a high school fic. I actually had a multi-shot in mind but hell, this is my second time writing a high school fic and let's face it: high school really isn't as interesting as in mangas. So I'm gonna just put in meaningless and unrealistic fluff to make stimulations that fangirls/fanboys love so much. Based on an idea on a meme that Shini-chii let me have. Oh, and the idea in my mind actually had no plot. But this will be an updated fic, though. In unrelated one-shots. Because I really want to write the Denmark/Norway in my brain right now. So please read on. And I always feel as if my Italy impression is so OCC. Italy isn't supposed to be a spastic piece of awesomeness. REVIEW OR YOU SHALL BE CURSED BY ENGLAND! AFTER HE IS DONE DOING SCANDALOUS DEEDS WITH AMERICA.