EDIT: Due to my decision to go back and fully revise/edit the ten chapters that I have uploaded before continuing, please note that some of the earlier chapters may have some minor inconsistencies with later chapters. Rest assured that these inconsistencies will be ironed out and the story will be continued once I am finished. Thanks to all of my readers for their patience.

Kisu Yori mo Hayaku

Pairings: UKUS ((Yes, that means Arthur = seme))

Author Note: This is my first fanfiction for Hetalia~ ^_^ ~ The plot is largely based on another manga: Kisu Yori mo Hayaku ((or if you prefer English: "Faster than a Kiss", but I personally think the Japanese title sounds cooler XD))

This is an alternate universe as human names are used and I've fiddled around with their ages to fit the story.
Also the chapters I upload are considered drafts, so I will be changing and editing them as I keep writing.
For the sake of the story, let's assume the school system is like Japan's: Elementary/Primary school= K-6, Middle/Junior High school= 7-9 and High school= 10-12.

I humbly request the harshest constructive criticism you can offer …unless you just want to tell me you hate the story, but in that case, why are you reading it? If you don't like the story or pairings, then please don't read.

Warnings: Light swearing, light Yaoi,

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Kisu Yori mo Hayaku, this is a purely fan-made piece of writing that I'm using to distract myself from life...

~::*::~::*::~Prologue~::*::~::*::~

~.::*::.~

At the time…I still felt empty.

~.::*::.~

I didn't think.

I just swung my leg up and forced contact with the boy's torso. As expected, he let out a strangled cry when he hit the ground. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw with a sense of satisfaction that his crony was already petrified. I swallowed my grin and instead glared down at the fallen boy who was now clutching his stomach.

"How dare you mug an innocent girl!" I berated.

That morning had begun as usual when I came to school. On the way to class however, I saw one of my classmates being harassed by two boys just outside the classroom building. The poor girl, close to tears, begged them to leave her alone. Needless to say, the bullies only got bolder with every protest she made.
To see such a villainous act—it made my blood boil. That's why I had to go save her, just like a hero would.

~.::*::.~
At the time, I was Hetalia High's Second Year Class A's Alfred F. Jones (age 16, if you wanted to know).
In any case, a lot of people back then called me "aggressive" and the "leader of delinquents." But simply put, I just hated wrongdoings and since I was a hero, I needed to fight these wrongdoings... even if I had to be violent.
~.::*::.~

Somehow the guy I kicked down had gotten back up. I curled my fingers into a fist and felt a rush of excitement that only a fight could bring; nothing could be more thrilling than fighting the bad guy.

"Who the hell do you think you are!" He snarled as he came forward to grab a fistful of my shirt and collar. I resisted sighing, it was much too cliché and predictable a reaction on his part. But I didn't expect anything less from such a weak opponent.

I brought up one hand to grab his wrist when I heard another voice call out from behind me, "AH! Coach Braginski's coming!"
The effect of the shout was immediate, and in my opinion, amusing. Both the guy holding my collar and his accomplice backed away, both instantly turning pale.

Coach Ivan Braginski was a lumbering giant of a Physical Education teacher. For some reason I never really felt that scared around him, even though he was rather unnerving at times. But he appeared to terrify both students and teachers, despite his seemingly ever-present smile and baby face.
I ignored the two cowards that ran out without even checking to see if the burly coach had even arrived, which he didn't, by the way. Irked instead, I turned toward the building behind me. The ground floor windows were almost closed and they were also the type that was hard to see through from one side.
I was annoyed to the point that I barely registered the timid "thank you" from the girl I saved before she left. Then again, I hadn't bothered to try to get close to any of the students while I was here, so my aloofness couldn't possibly have offended her. At the time though, only one thought was running through my head: Why did that guy have to go and ruin my chance to teach those bullies a lesson?

"You're a teacher yourself and yet you depend on another teacher? That's just sad…" I said, knowing full well who it was that called out earlier and that he could hear me through the crack of the slightly open window.
"And why did you do that? I was in the middle of a heroic rescue!" I added a hint of a whine in my voice, something I really only did when with him.

"What rubbish." The voice scoffed with a strong British accent. Only this time the window slid open and the voice was finally accompanied by the face of the speaker, "You just looked like you wanted to fight. If I had just let you go on as you were, you would have gotten hurt by now."

I laughed then said, "Aw, Teach—I'm the hero. I can't get hurt."

"That naïveté of yours is what's going to hurt you in the future." He retorted with his usual scowl. And so we bickered back and forth, at that point this was a daily ritual.

~.::*::.~
Ah, I forgot to mention…This guy was Class A's Homeroom and History teacher, Arthur Kirkland. Despite scowling like a cranky old man all the time, he was only 23 years old.
He tended to space out a lot even when teaching in class and a lot of us had the suspicion that he definitely believed in stuff like magic and faeries.

~.::*::.~
If anyone saw us while we were arguing, that person would easily say that we were not compatible in the least bit, but…
~.::*::.~

That same evening, I padded down the narrow front hall of the apartment as I heard the front door open. Matthew F. Jones or just 'Matt', my 10-year-old brother, followed close behind me. Held tightly in his arms was Kumajirou, a large stuffed polar bear, whose name seemed to change every time Matt referred to it. He's had that toy for the longest time but he managed to keep it in near perfect condition. Probably because he looked after it so meticulously despite being so young, then again, he was always more mature than most kids his age. Of course, I only regret that the last two years caused this rapid increase in maturity; he should have gotten more time to act his age.

I grimaced slightly as I felt my stomach growl. I wanted nothing more but to start eating, but if I didn't welcome this guy home, I'd end up having to eat his cooking and have a full cup of after-dinner tea. Just the thought of it made me shudder.

He finally came into view as the door clicked closed behind him. "I'm home." He called out rather softly, almost as if he wasn't really expecting anyone to greet him.
Although I plastered a large grin on my face, I didn't fake the cheerfulness in my voice. After all, one greeting equaled a tasty dinner.

"Welcome home, Arthur." The words felt strange on my tongue; it had been a while since I welcomed anyone home so warmly.

Matt mirrored me. "Welcome home!"

Arthur looked surprised at our greeting. I guess he wasn't used to being welcomed home since a light blush crossed his face. A smile came too, but it wasn't directed at me. Arthur was looking down at Matt. Gently he patted the top of Matt's head as he said, "Thank you. I don't think I even remember the last time anyone welcomed me home."

I felt myself pull a face, feeling irritated suddenly. Why didn't he smile like that towards me?
It was immature, but I couldn't help but try to call his attention, "What about me?"

His eyes flashed towards me. The green was bright…and piercing, as if scolding me for my juvenile impatience. I noticed his smile faltered and nearly faded as he instead busied himself with taking off his work shoes. Without looking at me, he said, "Ah, yes. Thank you too."

A heat rose up my face, enveloping my cheeks and ears. There was no denying I was now flushed red, but whether it was from anger at Arthur's reaction or embarrassment from my childish outburst…I didn't know. I opened my mouth to complain but before I could utter a sound, another voice called out, this time from farther inside the apartment, the kitchen in fact.

"Ah, Arthur, you're home? I guess this means I'll start dinner?" The owner of the voice poked his head out into the hall, already putting on the apron.

"Sure, we'll be right there." Arthur answered.
Matt, who had been nervously looking up at both me and Arthur, perked up as he heard the voice. He turned and ran down the hall to the kitchen, calling out, "I'll help set the table!"

I allowed myself a small smile as I watched Matt go down the hall. A soft chuckle next to me made me realize that I was now alone with Arthur.
Seizing the opportunity, I turned towards him, ready to grumble out what I wanted to say earlier. But the words got stuck in my throat as I suddenly faced the Briton's smile. It looked the same as the smile he gave to Matt….but it felt different, because it brought back that tingling warmth to my face.

"Let's have dinner. Shall we, Alfred?" He started to walk forward.

A moment passed before I let go of an unconsciously held breath. Not a thought more went through my head though, as my eyes focused on his back. But it took yet another loud growl from my stomach to snap me out of my daze.
Arthur must have heard it too. His shoulders were quivering from what I could easily guess to be silent laughter.

~.::*::.~
It really seemed like we were very, very incompatible, but…

We were married.
~.::*::.~

Author Note: Yah~ The prologue is definitely not as long as the chapters will be but this is just the start. I understand that the Prologue explains just about, well, nothing. But don't worry, much will be explained in Chapter 1! Please keep in mind that I am currently editing the first 10 chapters, so there may be minor inconsistencies