Heeeey! I haven't written anything in a long time, but here is an attempt at a multi-chapter fic I've been sitting on. This whole thing was written on my iPod over about three months. That is, little bits here and there.

This is going to be Russia x America :D And it will be something I told myself I'd never do...a high school AU. A really original idea, huh?

I'll try not to make A/Ns that are so impossibly long but it's kind of what I do. Oh well :P Enjoy!

Alfred was a romantic, not that he'd ever admit it. Romantic, in his book, meant unmanly. And he was a manly man, dammit. He just liked stories about heroes. And he believed in true love. But that didn't make you all romantic and whatever other girly crap came with that.

So, seeing how manly he was, he totally didn't blush a little when he found the first note in his locker at school. And he didn't sit there for hours pondering who could possibly have written it. And he definitely didn't write about the whole situation in his diary. Because it was a journal and not a diary. See?

But, romantic or not, he couldn't help it when the note came, and he couldn't help reading it. It was a love note, and though he'd never really seen one before he knew the type. Especially when it said something along the lines of "I do not go a moment without thinking of how you smile, or of how you laugh, or of the deep blue that resonates through me whenever you look in my direction, if only for a second." Yeah. He couldn't make this kind of shit up. However much it may have seemed that way.

You see, Alfred had never been real popular with the ladies. He could be more frequently seen clutching a comic book than a girl's hand. In fact, that was the case almost 100% of the time. Girlfriends were like little wisps of smoke; they just floated through his fingers and out of reach. Except for Dana in the seventh grade, but she was chubby and liked mustard and he didn't talk about her.

In fact, Alfred didn't have many friends. People thought he was weird, or spazzy, and he tended to be blunt and talk himself into places he'd rather not be in. A little bit of acne around the edges didn't help matters any, and while other guys his age were playing football and getting all jacked in the weight room, he was under the deep conviction that he had an allergy to organized excercise, and that if he did any his throat would close up and he'd die. He'd taken to drawing and pretending to know how to swordfight, which then led him into the world of comic books and D&D. Not that he hadn't tried playing football and dating cheerleaders. It would have helped for him to have made the team, or for there to have been a cheerleading squad, but the fates just weren't with him.

The little Japanese emo kid, Kiku Honda, was who he could call his best friend. Kiku was just as into comics and roleplaying, but he tended to lean toward anime and manga, and he had been the one to introduce Alfred to the wonderful world of hentai. Not that he ever, you know, looked at any. 'Cause they were just drawings, and that was gross. Anyway, Kiku was somehow able to stand Alfred, and maybe even look up to him. Alfred was desperate for attention, and Kiku was quiet and an easy follower, so they matched up pretty well.

The fact that Alfred had a friend, though, didn't stop the constant onslaught of bullying and teasing he recieved. It wasn't like he got beaten up on the playground or anything, but people just seemed to send off these vibes that they didn't like him very much. Some more than others.

Case in point: Ivan Braginski.

Stupid russky dickhead, if you'd pardon the language. He seemed to have a daily quota of "let's make Alfred feel like shit" that he whipped out whenever the two came into contact. It had never come to blows or anything like that, not even tripping or whistling or laughing with his friends. It was always just a word, a phrase, a simple statement that could make Alfred feel like crap even on his best days. In some ways it sucked way more than the other guys who smacked him on the back of the head or "accidentally" bumped him into the lockers. Some days were worse than others. It was like Alfred's own personal Insult-A-Day calendar, and it continued without fail. Sometimes it made Alfred wonder why the hell the asshole even bothered spending that much time on him coming up with these things. Just the way of the world, he guessed.

On the day he got the note, he had to admit he was feeling on top of the world. Not even Ivan could kill his buzz, and he was actually eager to just thwart the older boy. Haha, take THAT, you communist bastard!

Sure enough, on his way to third period English, Ivan was waiting in the hallway. He inspected Alfred as he apprached, in that same cold, calculating way he always did. He must have seen the note Alfred was carrying (which wasn't all that hard to miss seeing as he was reading it right in front of his nose as he walked) because as Alfred got closer he opened his mouth to speak.

"Ah, Alfred, is that a suicide note from your boyfriend? My deepest condolences."

Alfred's lip twitched a little, but he didn't say anything. That was a crappy insult, he thought. Don't let him get to you. A bad one like that was sure to be followed by a real zinger, though, so he had to be careful.

"Nah, it's a love note from yours."

TAKE THAT!

"That's too bad. Your little Japanese faggot will be so heartbroken."

Alfred's eyes widened. Oh ho ho...he was really pushing it this time. Insulting Kiku like that wasn't gonna fly. This was war.

"Not as heartbroken as your sister will be if you don't go out back with her and do God-knows-what." Ivan had two sisters, one nice one with like a double D cup who took pity on Alfred sometimes (at least, until she had graduated the year before) and a drop-dead-gorgeous one who hung off of Ivan's arm like he was Jesus. Alfred was referring to the latter.

The moment the words left Alfred's mouth he saw Ivan tense. Got 'im, the younger boy thought. Score one for the United States of Alfred. In a second, though, Ivan gained his composure. He smiled a bit sickly at Alfred.

"Well you certainly wouldn't know."

Dammit. Alfred paused for a second, desperately wracking his brain for a decent comeback. When he realized there were none, he gave Ivan a dark scowl, ignoring the smirk he knew would be planted on Ivan's face. Anyway, he needed to get to class. Fuck Ivan, he could go die in a hole. Alfred had too much to do to be wasting his time on a stupid fight like this.

And Ivan was right. Alfred had never kissed anyone in his entire life; heck, he'd never seen a pair of boobs that weren't animated or in a textbook. KIKU even had a girlfriend, even though she was over the internet. At least, Alfred thought it was a girl. All those Japanese names sounded the same, and the guys all looked like girls. That was beside the point, because if there was anything he was more sensitive about it was what his mom called his "late developing sexual maturity."

Whatever. Everyone could just go fuck themselves. Or...considering the subject matter, never fuck themselves again. See how they liked it.

Alfred had never been good at English class. The higher faculties of the language had always eluded him, and he wondered why people couldn't just say what they meant. Essays always had to be too long, books had too many chapters, and the interesting stories about heroes and things were too short.

Luckily, they were in the middle of a nice, long unit on Greek and Roman mythology, which Alfred could actually stand. Hell, maybe he even liked it, just a little. Some of the stories were pretty cool, with epic journeys and big fights. Not that he really cared what the heck Persephone ate for what's-his-face underworld guy to kidnap her (though he was adamant that her name be pronounced "Purse-a-phone.") It was the travels of Odysseus and the slayings of hydras and Medusa that he cared about.

Ivan usually dished out his best right before English, though, and on boring days it kind of sucked. All he would think about was how such-and-such a comeback would have been so much better than the one he actually gave, or what he was going to say to that Russian asshole the next time he saw him.

He never managed to say what he wanted to, though. For some reason he always forgot what he was going to do, and Ivan never said or did anything to initiate those genius comebacks. That goddamn...whatever. Concentrate on the books, Jones.

The day of the note was mostly spend thinking about who, when...HOW someone had possibly decided they liked him. Not that he was unlikeable, but it wasn't like he was big and popular. Social situations didn't come easy for him, although he tried to be nice to everyone. He was the fight-difuser, the peacemaker that nobody actually cared about. Sometimes it really sucked.

What ALSO sucked was the story that they were reading and "analyzing." It was something to do with Cupid, and lots of great lovey-dovey stuff. And absolutely no epic battles, monsters or natural disasters. This meant it was boring. Thus, Alfred had even more time to contemplate the note, go through a list of possible people (mostly just the good-looking girls sitting around him at the moment), systematically picking out the ones who he would have even a chance with.

While this was a fun game, it didn't get him very far. The note gave absolutely no indication as to its author, which was pretty darn inconvenient if he thought about it. What, was this mysterious person ashamed of their crush? It was still a foreign thought to him, that someone could actually LIKE him...unless...

God, he was stupid. So damn stupid. Getting so worked up over what was so obviously, so completely STUPIDLY obviously a joke. Probably planted by jerkoff Ivan or any of the other guys who picked on Alfred. Maybe even one of the popular girls just messing around with that guy nobody liked. Dammit!

Well, there went his day. All he had to do now was pretend like he hadn't seen it, or like he hadn't cared. Don't let 'em get to you.
Alfred quickly crumpled the note into a ball and pitched it into the garbage can. It bounced off the rim and fell a few feet away. He was then ordered to go get it and place it in the trash the normal way.

Stupid Ivan. He always managed to ruin Alfred's day somehow, and this had to be his most discreet attack yet. Assuming it was Ivan. Then again, there was still a little bit of doubt in the back of his mind. What if it was really from some girl, and he had just thrown it away? Of course, it could still be from somebody who didn't like him. Ivan probably wasn't willing to sacrifice his dignity for something like this, but there were plenty of other people who would be capable. Ivan was too smart for that, the stupid bastard.

So Alfred was deeply conflicted. The class ended, and he walked out the door, not wanting to make a scene. A few moments later, he crept back in and took the note back out of the garbage can.

He walked through the hall, the note safely stuffed in his pocket. As he went toward his locker, he saw Ivan standing over by the bathrooms, leaning against the wall and analyzing the entire hallway. His eyes stopped on Alfred for a moment, and to Alfred's surprise they held none of his usual spite or faux happiness. Instead, his expression was entirely cold, and completely emotionless. That was, somehow, worse. In a second he was looking somewhere else. Maybe he had given Alfred the note after all, and this was just his poker face. He was too obvious.

Satisfied that he knew the origin of the note, Alfred pulled it out of the crumpled note and tossed it into his now wide open locker. He didn't see Ivan for the rest of the day, and when he returned home he fell almost immediately asleep. Stupid commie bastard and his stupid commie ways.

Now, the next day could have been completely average. It could have been no big deal, and it could have passed just like all the others. It was entirely un-average, however, as Alfred recieved another note in his locker.

If it had been a joke, this would be taking it further than the average bully was willing to go. To Alfred this meant only one thing-Ivan really was behind this whole fiasco. Nobody else would be willing to go this far just to get a rise out of him. Ivan was probably laughing to himself right now, Alfred thought. He was sitting there chuckling about his cleverness and evilness, because he was definitely the kind to chuckle.

Still, Alfred read the note, and he still felt a bit of pride, maybe even happiness. Even if it was a prank someone was spending a good portion of their time on him, and he really was an attention hog. Anything...it was sad but it really didn't matter.

Alfred,
I know you may have thought my last letter was a hoax. I admit I may have come on a bit strongly, but I must assure you I wasn't lying. I don't know that I can tell you who I am just yet, but if you would come to the gym after school today, I could prove my affection for you. Please come. It would mean the world to me.

Alfred stared at it for a while, completely confused. Now, if this was a joke this would be taking it WAY too far. He felt a twinge of excitement as he realized that this could be the real deal. And, tired of being uncertain about everything, he decided to go. He would just scope out the gym, see who was there and respond accordingly. Hot girl = stay. Asshole = leave. It would be perfectly simple. He smiled to himself, wondering where all of this newfound confidence was coming from.

The day passed rather uneventfully, and Alfred found himself truly excited for what would happen after school. In fact, at the end of the day he threw his books into his backpack and started quickly down the hall. He was feeling considerably more nervous than before. The anxiety came with time, and as the day crawled by class by boring class it had heightened.

Alfred's heart was pounding as he turned the corner and headed down toward the gym. It had two doors, one on either side. The one nearest him was already propped open, a garbage can wedged in between it and the doorframe. He swallowed heavily, approaching it with care. Then he leaned forward, letting one eye peek into the cavernous room.

It was empty, as far as he could see. Maybe whoever it was had forgotten...or maybe he'd gotten the day wrong...or, of course, they could be hiding. If they were, then it was almost a surefire bet that it was either Ivan or one of the other guys. Still, he peered in a little farther. Nothing.

There was a little twinge in the back of his mind, however, telling him to go inside. Maybe it was some shy girl who was hiding, or maybe he just didn't have the best vantage point from the door...whatever the reason he decided to forfeit his hiding place and head into the gymnasium.

His footsteps echoed through the deserted room as he walked inside. Alfred's backpack still hung over his shoulder, but now his hand was clutching the strap. Nobody popped out, nobody started laughing or throwing things...there was no cold insult from some unseen location.

"Hello?" Alfred called out tentatively, stopping in the center of the basketball court. His voice only made the room seem larger, the echo making it eerier.

It was as he turned back to leave that he saw it.

He froze, eyes wide. It was seven or eight gigantic pieces of paper all stuck together, words that were four or five feet tall marching across it. The banner covered a good half of the monstrous wall, large letters painted on in a rather artistic "I love you, Alfred."

His jaw may have dropped; he didn't notice. He wasn't even sure he processed any thought for a good ten or fifteen seconds. All he could think was that there was a huge love declaration pasted on a goddamn wall, addressed to him. To HIM. To Alfred Jones. Alfred. Someone had taken the time to do...

"Holy crap," he whispered. It was all he could get out. Without looking he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. Then, arm shaking, he raised it and took a snapshot of the banner. He didn't know what else to do.

A door clicked shut. It jolted him out of his reverie and he spun around. The door opposite the one he'd entered was closed. It couldn't have been wind, so he figured that someone had been watching him. He didn't know whether to follow them or not. He crept across the gym, pushing the wooden door open. Nobody was in the hall. He couldn't help the incredulous smile that kept creeping at the corners of his mouth.

As far as he knew he was the only person in the school named Alfred. And those letters to him-they were pretty much validated by now. He still couldn't get out of his mind how much effort it must have taken to put that thing up. It was so big it had to be put on the wall of the gymnasium, for crying out loud.

And, he noted with a grin that consumed his whole face, this was definitely much farther than even Ivan was willing to go.

So there it is!

Review? And if you find any typos, please tell me about them. I'll give you chocolate :D