Fiery: Yeah had to redo it since it was the fanfiction I got threatened with a shotgun with. I loved writing it but the thing was it was all night, non-stop, no editing, and making up the plot as I went. So here it is a decent version of my favorite fanfiction of mine Break. It will be different. Copyrights - Story/plot© Me, Characters© Hidekaz Himaruya. Summary I love you this time. You don't suck.

Summary: Rewritten and actually edited version. The characters of Hetalia face danger in the World W Academy. Ivan, a teacher gone mad starts attacking the students who stay after school the Friday before Spring Break. What will happen?

Warning: Language, Character death

Break- Rewritten

Chapter One

A light rain had been sprinkling down all day. It had started getting harsher around fifth period. By the last class period the rain was cascading down like a waterfall. Tiny chunks of hail fell with the drops. The sky was practically black aside from the white flashes from the branching power the clouds generated.

But the dreadful weather and sounds didn't lower the energy in the classroom. "And then I gave him a good kick in the balls!" A boy with silvery blond—mostly silver—hair declared. His eyes were a ruby color mixed with lilac purple that barely showed at all. He wore a black shirt, which stood out greatly against his pail skin, a white button up shirt over it—unbuttoned naturally, and a red jacket on top of that making him out of dress code. The moment teachers saw him they gave him detention for it at the beginning of the year. Now only two teachers hadn't given up and still gave him an hour of after school detention every day for it. He was telling a tale to his friends in the study hall classroom. He emphasized his words by giving the desk in front of his a good kick.

The quiet Finnish boy yelped as his chair rocked and fell out of his seat. His head slammed on the floor. The thud sounded over the pounding of rain and hail, alerting the teacher to misbehavior in her classroom. She was a brunette and wore her hair up in a bun. Black framed, rounded reading glasses had been perched on her nose for she had been reading a book. Her emerald eyes flicked up from her book an locked on the "pure bred Prussian." "Beilschmidt, detention," Ms. Héderváry sighed.

"How do you know it was me? It could have been Un-Awesome Al here or Toni!" Gilbert snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the wheat blond American sitting beside him.

The American boy wore glasses and a white vest instead of the usual tan one, he also wore no jacket and had his dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, making him out of uniform as well. The teachers had long since given up on getting him to wear the normal vest and ignored his sleeves. He wore an uncharacteristic frown on his face. The darker blond eyebrows above his sky-grey eyes frowned with his lips. "Dude I think you seriously hurt him," Alfred muttered and he leaned over his desk to get a better look at the teen on the ground.

"Shut up Ami! You're not helping!" the "pure bred Prussian" snapped. The nickname Gilbert used for Alfred is the German slang word for American people, and he had been using it ever since the two met.

"It did look rather painful," a blue eyed Frenchman said from the other side of Gilbert. He had long blond hair and stubble on his chin. Francis never wore a tie or vest, and he always wore his white dress shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned. Since he had only female teachers he managed to get away with it this year. He always frowned at the fact that they had to wear purple plaid pants with brown shoes and blue jackets. But the Frenchman said he could make it look good and several girls in the school would agree. He was standing out of his desk and leaning over Tino's to get a better look at him.

The Hungarian teacher came over and frowned at him. "Berwald, do you think you could take him down to the nurse?" she asked.

The intimidating Swedish student nodded and got up from his seat. The tall teen scooped up the other and carried him out of the room. When the door shut the power shut off with an exploding clap of thunder. The ruckus caused Alfred to jump and his desk to fall over. Apparently Gilbert had jumped out of his seat when the thunder erupted because the Freshman and his desk landed on top of the Sophomore.

"Get off you dick! You're crushing me!" the "pure bred Prussian" snapped.

Alfred grumbled and kicked his desk back up then climbed off of the albino. "Sorry bro," he grinned, holding a hand out for the other to grab, though he couldn't see it. The older teen pushed himself up and sat back in his chair.

The room was only illuminated ever so slightly by the blue glow of the Spanish student behind Gilbert's seat's cell phone. He was probably texting that Lovino kid again. The dusty brown haired teen was the only member of the school's trouble making trio called the Bad Touch Trio that was in dress code. He wore a full sweater version of the tan vests everyone wore except with the sleeves cut to just above his elbows, and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to there. The cuffs were unbuttoned and went over the ragged cuts on the sweater. Francis was whimpering a bit and standing close to Antonio so that he wouldn't be in complete darkness.

Gilbert joined him with an annoyed look on his face. He was trying to block the fact that his friend was texting in class which the teacher caught right away.

"Carriedo!" she snapped.

"Um was it 'C'?" he asked weakly, looking up.

"We don't even do things like that in this class," she scoffed. "Detention, and I'll take your pho-ack!" Ms. Héderváry yelped. "Who ever has that light get it out of my eyes!" the teacher yelled, covering her eyes.

The light that had found it's way to her face swooped up to the ceiling, illuminating most of the room."Sorry mam, I was just wondering if you had any torches in here," a British accent replied. "The kids in our class aren't dense enough to use their phones." the Student Body president said calmly as he came into the room. The Sophomore had messy blond hair and large, bushy brown eyebrows. His green eyes were a sort of average leafy color, and he was in perfect dress code. The only variations to his outfit was that he wore a grey-green sweater vest instead of the usual tan and wore a silver pin on his blue-violet jacket that showed he was part of the Student Council. Arthur held in his hand a book light which he was using as a makeshift flashlight.

Gilbert elbowed Antonio, causing the other teen to look up from his phone which he had returned texting on. The Spaniard quickly hid it under one of his legs. "Hola Arthur!" he laughed nervously. The Spanish teen was waving almost frantically at him.

The Brit raised a large eyebrow, looking unamused. He walked over and held out his hand to get the phone. "Hand it over," he commanded.

"Oh calm down Artie, Spring Break is tomorrow, you can take his phone after it's over," Alfred waved dismissively from beside Arthur.

"It's Arthur not Artie, you git!" The English student snapped, turning to face the American. He blushed a bit when he saw who he was yelling at. "Oh hi Alfred," he tried punctuating his words with a slight smile that came out slightly nervously.

"Awwwwww," the trio all cooed. They all put their left hand on their left cheek, cocked their heads, and smiled mockingly in unison as they did so.

"S-shut up!" the Student Council president snapped.

Francis smirked and lay his arms across the Englishman and the American's shoulders. The duo frowned at him as he did so. Alfred ducked under the other's arm and tripped over a desk. He fell backwards and crashed to the floor was a cry of, "Son of a bitch!"

"What was that Jones?" the Hungarian teacher asked menacingly.

"Nothing mom," Alfred replied from the floor with his teeth grit. He had hit his head and had a dull fuzzy sensation tingling in his nose, causing the air to smell the same way, dull, fuzzy, and tingling. "Fuck I mean- Shit I mean- Dammit I mean- Gah, I give up!" The American finished, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"You can join your friends in detention," the teacher frowned.

The Bad Touch Trio and the rest of the class broke out laughing at that. The Frenchman, being distracted, had been shoved off of the Brit who walked, defiantly walked, over to the American. "You okay?" he asked, standing by the other's feet which were in the air on the other side of the desk. The Sophomore held out his hand for the Freshman to take.

"Yeah..." Alfred muttered blushing a bit, though it couldn't really be seen because of Arthur's book light facing the floor. He took the older teen's hand and started getting up, only to pull the other onto him.

The Bad Touch Trio started wolf whistling at the duo. From one of them came a shout of: "Moving a bit quickly aren't you, Al?" Arthur's face turned bright red and he quickly clambered off of the American student. The English teen brushed himself off and coughed nervously into his hand. He straightened his tie and then offered his hand again, not looking at the other student, praying the blush on his face would hurry on it's merry way and leave him alone. The Freshman picked up the book light that had been dropped while the Brit was falling and took the other's hand, pulling himself successfully to his feet this time.

The British teen found himself unwilling to let go of Alfred's hand as he was offered the book light. Arthur took it and reluctantly let go. Upon finding he didn't let go last his lips twitched into a slight smile. He had enjoyed the slight tingling in his hand that came from being in contact with the other teen. It made his heart flutter and his cheeks warm a bit more, and it appeared to have done the same to the other boy though he couldn't really tell in the dark. From the way the American shoved his hands in his pockets afterwards and his slight shifting of his weight to the other foot reassured the Briton a bit on his thoughts.

"Aw l'amour is in the air. Can't you feel it?" The French student sighed, resting his elbow in one of his palms and his cheek upon the other. A mocking, warm smile had spread on the Francis's face.

"You can go to detention too Francis," Arthur scowled, turning to face the other Sophomore.

"What? But I did nothing!" the French student pouted.

"You were making fun of slash taunting me. That could be considered bullying, and you know how that isn't allowed," the English student smirked in triumph when the typically flirty face deflated.

Francis took in a deep breath and scowled at him."Condamnez-vous," he muttered.

"Since when can you give detention?" Gilbert asked, puzzled.

"Since forever; I just usually don't," the British student shrugged.

"Well fuck. I'm dead," the "pure bred Prussian" muttered.

"Add another hour to your detention Beilschmidt. For cussing," Ms. Héderváry tagged on the last bit so she wouldn't have to talk to him as long.

"Bitch," the albino scowled at her.

"What was that?" the auburn haired teacher seethed.

"Sorry, Bitch Queen," the member of the Bad Touch Trio bowed.

The Hungarian teacher looked beside herself with rage as the class roared with laughter. Students who had been walking down the hallway peered in to see what was going on. Right when the teacher was about to start shouting the principal walked in. "What is going on here?" he asked in a low growling tone.

Everyone in the class went silent and had their eyes drawn to the doorway which was now vacant of students. The tall, long blond haired man stalked into the class and frowned at Gilbert.

"'Sup Vater?" He grinned his mischievous and sly grin, raising a hand in greeting.

"Schließen Sie Sie inkompetenter Dummkopf," His father scowled at him.

"Kein kann tun," the "pure bred Prussian" smiled. His eyebrows flicked up as he spoke and slowly lowered themselves.

The tall blond German sighed and took his eyes from his troublesome son and turned them to the ceiling. "Why can't you be more like Ludwig?" He took in a deep breath then spread his icy gaze to the rest of the class. "Class has been dismissed. Walking home isn't suggested so if you can get a ride from someone please do so," he informed the students.

Everyone jumped up and started walking out. Antonio and Gilbert headed for the door where they were grabbed by the principal and thrust back into the room. "I know for sure that you four have detention today. There isn't a day you don't have it," he scowled at the Bad Touch Trio and Alfred. The four just grinned. Gilbert and Alfred even high-fived. He sighed and shook his head. "Arthur can you assist them in getting to the Detention Hall? I don't trust them to go on their own."

"Yes sir," Arthur nodded and hooked his arm around Alfred's, blushing slightly as he did so. He also grabbed Gilbert by the back of his shirt and started walking. He paused then looked to Antonio and Francis. "You walk in front of me," the Student Body president ordered.

The duo had obviously been planning on sneaking off by the way their shoulders drooped and their grins fell. They then moved in front of the Brit. The group walked in silence down the hallway. Arthur was pressing himself against the Freshman a bit with a smile tugging at his lips. The English teen had accepted a long time ago that he was not hetrosexual—he was mainly interested in the American beside him—but never told anybody. He even started dating a girl from Seychelles to cover up how much the Briton had been longing for him. Though it was getting much, much harder to hide.

Gilbert's voice pulled Arthur out of his little happy thoughts. The Brit straightened up as he heard him shout, "Oi Bruder!" The "pure bred Prussian" waved with a wide grin on his face.

The teen he had called to had slicked back, neat blond hair and was in perfect World W Academy dress code only altered by the silver Student Council badge. The tall Freshman glanced over his shoulder with a frown. "What do you want?" the German asked. Ludwig was Gilbert's brother, not by blood though. The albino had been adopted from East Germany before the other was born. They grew up together just as if they were brothers though and were just as close.

"Art and Vater and being assholes, mind taking me home?" the albino smirked. "I'll pay you even."

Ludwig sighed and shook his head. The German then turned his cool blue gaze at Arthur, "You want any help?" he asked.

"Yes please," he nodded to the Vice President. He passed the Albino to the other who had grabbed a hold of the Spaniard's shirt, preparing to drag him along.

"To detention correct?" the younger student asked.

"Yes," Arthur nodded.

"Aw come on Bruder I have four hours today!" the older sibling yelled at his younger.

"Your fault," the blond sighed.

Francis walked back so that the other Student Council member could keep a hold of him with a smirk. All that he got was a harsh questioning glare. The Frenchman chuckled wryly. "What Anglais?" he asked.

"I don't want to touch you. Who knows where you've been," the Brit frowned, scrunching up his nose in mock disgust. In truth Arthur and Francis were just rivals; they didn't truly hate each other. They were step-brothers after all. That would be rather hard.

Alfred laughed at that. Arthur smiled and looked over at him, blushing slightly. "Aww," Francis cooed again, receiving a good smack on the back of the head from the Brit as he reluctantly let go of the other student. The Frenchman laughed and the blond trio started walking, the German and Spanish students already out of sight.

They walked in silence the rest of the way. Arthur dropped the duo off at the Detention Hall and turned to leave. "Hey Arthur, I have a question," Francis called to him. The American was already in the room, and the door had shut.

The Brit turned around and with a sigh asked, "What Francis?"

"How deeply?" the Frenchman asked, leaning against the door and crossing his arms on his chest.

"What are you talking about?" the Englishman asked.

The Sophomore against the door walked over to his step-brother. "How deeply have you fallen for our American friend's... charms?" Francis asked quietly. He had paused to think of a word to describe the grotesque way the younger blond acted.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur said, quickly turning his back on the other teen and crossing his arms.

"Yes you do," the Frenchman quipped. His head was hovering over the sandy blond teen's shoulder. The step-brothers stood: one leaning over the other with his hands in his pockets; the other arms crossed, nose up, and eyes diverted from his non-related relative. "Mon cher ami anglais, I know you have fallen for him. I just want to know... How deeply?" he asked his tone soft and quiet as a mouse.

"So... I... I'm not... too... too deep..." Arthur muttered. His gaze fell to the floor, and he walked away silently, leaving his rival to straighten up and stare after him.

"Good talk," Francis muttered to himself. He elegantly turned and strode into the Detention Hall.

Inside was the other usual group of students. Lovino, an auburn haired Sophomore with chestnut eyes and a very sensitive curl coming from the front of his hair where it was parted, was a usual. He wore no tie and no jacket, wearing his sleeves of his tan sweater—he wore one instead of a vest like Antonio—rolled up to the middle of his upper arm. His dress shirt had the top button unbuttoned and it's sleeves were at his elbows, the cuffs folded up like the Spaniards as well. The other two Usuals were Sadiq and Heracles— two Juniors on the American football team—wore brown jackets with collars that stuck up. The collars had white and black horizontal stripes. Each jacket had a small star in a circle pinned on them as well as a number printed on the back of the jacket. Heracles's said "50" and Sadiq's said "05." Both had brown hair though the Turkish student's was dark and short whereas the Greek's was long and light. The Turk also had a bit of fuzz on his face and merry gold eyes while the Greek student had a clean face and drowsy green eyes. Sadiq was really a nice, jolly guy except when around Heracles, and Heracles was a drowsy, dull guy except when around Sadiq. The duo had a sharp rivalry and fought often. They were very temperamental around each other. When they were fighting or competing was the only time you'd see them both alert and angry. Those attitudes toward each other landed them in detention together quiet a lot.

The really fit Detention Hall teacher smiled happily as he always does. His brown hair messy and curly as usual with one curl on the side of his head slightly longer than the rest. His gold coin eyes shone with glee and merriment. "Nice to see you all back here," he laughed. He wore his typical white dress shirt with his light brown suit jacket and ever so slightly darker dress pants. Around his neck, under the collar of his shirt of course, was a brown leather bolo tie with a gold clasp that would just a large round coin.

"Not nice to be here Romaji," Alfred sighed from his usual seat by the door. "My step mom is going to be pissed. I'm probably gonna miss my flight. My dad's probably already up in Canada by now knowing him," the American frowned. "God and Mattie can't fly alone the guy flips out about navigating the airport and going through security."

"Why did Matteiu even come down to Amerique?" Francis asked.

"This school's better apparently," the American shrugged.

"Wait isn't he part of the Student Council?" Gilbert asked from his seat next to the window and in the farthest corner from the door which was at the back of the room.

"Hell if I know," the blond freshman shrugged.

"I believe he is," the French student in the seat behind the albino's muttered.

"If he is they have to stay after. That's what Lud told me," the "pure bred Prussian" informed him.

"Oh. Well then things work out," Alfred shrugged.

"I said leave me alone you fucking tomato loving bastard!" Lovino snapped from his seat, interrupting their conversation. It was two to the left from Gilbert's.

Behind him sat Antonio who was leaning over his desk and had his arms wrapped around just below the temperamental teen's shoulders. "But Lovi you're so cuddly~"

"But Toni~" the Italian mocked, "get the fuck off!"

"Lovino Vargas," Romaji said warningly. He walked across the room with a jar in his hand that was filled to the brim with cash. "Dollar," the teacher demanded.

"I don't have any money left you shitty ass father," the Sophomore scowled at him.

The response was a jar shoved into his face and a sing song, "Dollar~" from his father.

"I have money Lovi!" Antonio cried out, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a dollar as fast as he could. He handed it to the other teen.

"I don't need your money you bastard," the Italian muttered while taking the dollar and putting it in the jar, smirking up at his father as he did so.

Heracles woke up when thunder erupted around them. The Greek sat at the corner desk in front of Alfred. Since he slept all the time it made the American jump out of his skin. "Hmm? What was that?" the Junior asked the air around him.

"It was thunder dumb ass go back to sleep," Sadiq grumbled from his seat at the center desk in the back of the room.

"Huh," the Greek breathed out. "I thought I heard something..." With that said the light brown haired teen's head fell and he slumped over on his desk once more, snoring ever so slightly.

'So I wasn't the only one,' Alfred thought. The American looked out the small tinted window on the door. Hidden in the clap of thunder was something that disturbed the freshman. Why would someone be firing a gun in the school? The echo from the shot still faintly ricocheted off the walls of the halls. The idea both set Alfred on edge and made him curious. He shifted in his seat when he heard approaching footsteps.

The American glanced down at his backpack. He knew it was illegal, but he always brought a gun to school. He brought one everywhere really. The teen was very weary of what could happen. Seriously, what if he was out and a zombie apocalypse struck? His hand inched towards his backpack. It was unzipping by the time a shadow fell across the door and the doorknob started to slowly turn.

A/N Time!

Al: Why did you have to redo this fic?

Fiery: Because it was horribly written and I thought I would love writing it as much as I did the first time, but it was shit...

Al: But-

Fiery: NO SPOILERS FOR THE LOVELY READERS!

Arthur: You. Are. An. Ass.

Fiery: Yeah yeah yeah I get enough insults already. Now get back out there and start acting it out so I can write it.

Arthur: No thanks. I'd rather gouge my own eyes out.

Fiery: *Smirks* Well I wasn't planning on it, but that could be arranged. *walks closer*

Al: * Hits on the back of head* No touchie the Artie.

Fiery: Mother- *faints*

Extra note!

Fiery: If you guys review I would end up remembering to write this more. Seriously I have no attention span besides for reading USUK and I'll think the reviews are stories in my emails... I'M NOT TELLING YOU YOU HAVE TO REVIEW. In all honesty I don't care, but it gets my attention away from Minecraft, videos, and my roleplay website. My Rp site is http:/ dshetalians. proboards. com/. the ds at the beginning just stands for the name of my town nothing more. Origionally I thought it was just going to be me and the Hetalians from my school there, but then Becky(Our Amazingly Awesome Prussia who now Skypes with us all the time) joined-ironically that I'm putting this here-because of my Break fic and people from the web have been joining sense. Even if they aren't very active, though they don't really have much to do because of our lack of characters... Yeah that actually was a "sneaky" attempt at getting you to join my site and review but you don't have to if you don't want to.