~Romano, Age 15~

"As the number of faces in a pyramid increases, it begins to look like a cone. You can think of the lateral surfaces as many small triangles, or as a sector of a circle."

Oh god, were the other students really that stupid? This was a 10th grade class, did they really need to point out that a cone looks like a pyramid with many faces? That simple fact was something I'd figured out when I was in elementary school.

"Step 1: What is the area of the base?

Step 2: What is the lateral surface area in terms of l and r?

Step 3: Write the formula for the surface area of the cone."

Writing down the formula, I quickly glanced up to the teacher to see where she was in the lesson. Looking at the board, I could see that the rest of the class was still trying to figure out how to find the surface area of a pyramid. I could only image how boring the class would be if I was forced to listen to the teacher drone on and on about the formula to find the area of a regular polygon.

Sometimes it was nice to not be able to hear.

Ever since that day in the eighth grade, I haven't been able to hear a word that anyone said. Technically, I wasn't really deaf. Or, at least, I don't consider myself to be. If I was deaf, I'd care. But honestly, I don't mind not being able to hear anything.

Sure, I miss listening to music, or the sound of birds chirping in the morning. And yeah, sometimes the way people looked at me when they found out bugged the crap out of me as well.

Although, the therapy was probably the worst. You see, the doctors aren't quite sure what caused the whole not-being-able-to-hear thing. Well, that's a lie. They don't know what caused it, but they know why I can't hear. It apparently has something to do with part of my brain dying, although it seems more like it's just not working rather than dying. The thing is, due to the brain's plasticity, the doctors hoped that, with therapy, I'd regain my ability to hear.

Needless to say, I didn't enjoy it.

The thing is, I didn't really want to be able to hear again. It's not like anyone really had anything nice to say to me, anyways. I've never had many friends, and I didn't have the greatest relationship with the few that I did have. It wasn't any better with my dad, either. I guess you could say that I'm just pretty bad with people overall.

The only person that I really did ever talk to was Feliciano. Now, don't get me wrong, I still talk to him. Although, I suppose the term "talk" is used loosely. Since I can't hear, most people assume that I don't talk. So I don't. It's easy enough to just act like I can't and then most people just leave me alone. I mean, who wants to hang out with the weird deaf kid?

Although, even though I preferred not to communicate with people, I was taught how to read lips. It was a pain in the ass to learn, but it's helpful to know at times. The nice thing about it is that I can choose whether or not I want to know what people are saying, but they don't know if I know what they're saying or not.

However, since I couldn't hear and I refused to speak, the teachers decided to just stick me in the most basic classes they could. And since I can't participate in class, I'm usually just given a textbook and a worksheet to fill out during class time. It makes homework virtually non-existent, but makes school a waste of times since I pretty much already know the material.

Turning back to the worksheet, I finished the last problem (grazie a Dio) and looked up at the clock. Only a couple more minutes until school was out…

A light tap on my upper arm startled me. Looking to see who had tapped my arm, I saw the teacher (I still need to learn her name…) standing next to me. She held a piece of paper, which she handed me to read.

I would like to talk to you after class

I nodded my head in response as she continued walking. I wonder what she wanted. I'd been turning in all my assignments on time, and I haven't constantly been late to class like some of the other students.

All of the sudden, the rest of the class was standing up, and, the handful who had already pulled their stuff together, were leaving. Looking up at the clock, I noticed that class had ended. It was odd, how sometimes time moved so slowly and other times five minutes went by at the blink of an eye.

I neatly stacked my notebooks and set them atop my desk before I stood up and walked to the back of the room, where the teacher's desk was located. I had just reached her desk when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned around just in time to see a dark-haired boy set down his backpack on the desk nearest to the teacher's.

I didn't recognize the other boy, but he appeared to be around my age, perhaps a year older. When he stood up, I noticed that his skin was tan, but it was a natural tan, as if he had been working outside in the sun. He also had brilliant green eyes, the color of emeralds and fresh grass. His t-shirt and jeans looked well worn, but clean and comfortable, the kind that you would wear on a lazy afternoon.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, observing the stranger, before the teacher (dammit, I really need to learn her name!) stood up and shook hands with the green-eyed boy.

Well that was odd.

And now she's talking. To me. Shit. All I caught was 'will help you'. I gave her a confused look, and thankfully, she spoke again.

"This is Antonio. He's going to be your personal tutor from now on."

Wait, tutor? I didn't need any damn tutor, I was doing just fine in my shitty classes. I grabbed a piece of paper from my pocket (I learned that it was a good idea to carry a small pad of paper) and scribbled out a quick response.

Why?

The teacher rolled her eyes, as if that was an incredibly stupid question.

"I told you. Your other teachers and I have decided that we should move you up in several of your classes. But we agreed that we should have someone help you in your classes. And Antonio volunteered to take on that role." The boy, who I'd previously been told was Antonio, simply nodded his head politely as the teacher spoke.

"So please, Romano, be nice"

That last comment pissed me off. Nice? Why the hell would I be nice to the idiot? He'd have to be seriously stupid to volunteer to help the poor deaf kid. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my books and began to leave before either of them could try and stop me.

I was almost to my locker when I felt the hand grab my arm.

Turning around, I saw that it wasn't the teacher, but Antonio. I gave him the 'what the hell do you want' look, expecting that he would just let go of my arm. But he didn't.

"I'm sorry, that probably wasn't the best first impression"

Tch. As if I cared. I pulled my arm away, hoping he'd leave me alone. But, of course, this guy was even more of an idiot than I thought, and he grabbed my arm to stop me. Again.

"Wait, don't leave"

Dio, what was wrong with this idiota? Couldn't he tell that I didn't want (or need!) a tutor? Clearly not. Pulling out yet another piece of paper, I quickly wrote out a simple sentence.

Leave me alone

To my surprise, he didn't say anything back. No, instead he wrote his response, right below mine.

Nope!

I'd never seen anyone do that. In all fairness, I rarely talk to anyone to begin with, but most everyone I write to always response verbally.

What do you want?

Glancing up from the paper, I could see Antonio smiling. Now that I think about it, he had been smiling since I first saw him. Idiot.

I want to be your friend!

My… friend?

Maybe I'd have to give him a chance, after all.

AN: Well, here it is. My first Hetalia fanfiction that I actually finished (and found decent enough). I haven't written the second chapter yet, but I probably will. I have a prologue STARTED, but I haven't finished it much less deemed it not completely crappy. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little intro! As usual, comments and critiques (keep the constructive, please) are always welcome!