Tutor

Note: That bug that put spaces into everything is really annoying... I went back and tried to find all the random spaces, but if I missed one, please tell me!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 1

Tino Väinämöinen hastily threw a few of his textbooks into his bag lying at the floor of his bed as he searched for his coat. His dormitory room was somewhat cluttered, although he maintained that he could easily find any object in less than five minutes (unless it was in the closet — that could take up to five hours.. .).

"I'm going to be late!" he panicked, throwing the backpack around his shoulders and charging for the door. He ripped his white beret off his bedpost on the way and nearly screeched as the hat actually ripped as he tore it off. Infuriated with himself and the bedpost, Tino aimed a kick at the bedpost while flinging his ruined beret into his closet like a Frisbee. He then proceeded to whimper in pain as he grabbed his toe, which had surely been broken by the stupid bedpost .

Finally, he flung himself out of his dorm room, which was a single, and hurtled down the stairs and out of the building to run straight into a fifty-five kilometer per hour wind blasting him straight back inside. He almost growled (severely alarming several other students who happened to be passing by) and charged outside again, making extremely slow progress to his morning Microbiology 325 class. The building was in sight of his dorm, but it was still distant.

Tino pushed against the wind, which was billowing his sky blue shirt and brown pants so much that he resembled a multicolored balloon, and stumbled towards his class's building, glaring venomously at the few cars that rolled by on the street. Almost causing several crashes from the severity of his glare and the somewhat adverse reactions of the drivers as they screamed and completely forgot to control the wheels, Tino continued on his way and finally collapsed inside the building after a long struggle.

And somehow, as he fell into his normal seat in the lecture hall, Tino still had five minutes to go until class started. Immediately when he plopped down and drew out his notebook and several pens (all fountain pens; even the professor was jealous), his friend Elizabeta Héderváry began to babble at him.

"Hey, Tino," the Hungarian woman said, patting Tino's bare hair. "Where's your beret today?"

"I accidentally —"

"Yeah, so I've got an appointment so I've got to skip class today," continued Elizabeta, steamrolling over Tino's reply as she fingered the orange flowers in her hair. "Can I see your notes later? Thanks!"

And without further ado, Elizabeta stood up and span away in an elegant pirouette. Her brown hair floated around her and whipped a few people in the face as she passed by them; she was laughing all the while, a laugh that was somehow both manic and graceful bubbling from her mouth as she twisted out of the lecture room.

And then, of course, she let out an ungraceful yelp the moment she was out of the room, as she had slipped on a banana peel that someone had left carelessly on the ground. The Hungarian crashed to the floor and the professor shut the door tiredly, already used to Elizabeta's strange tendencies.

"Just because you're a swimmer and a dancer doesn't mean you have to express it everywhere you go," muttered Tino, his eyebrows quirked in a resigned fashion as he watched his friend leave.

"Ignoring that interesting display," said their professor, an old man who pronounced many words in strange manners (for instance, "beige-eel" instead of "bagel, " which confused and concerned the class for several days when he said he would bring in enough "beige-eels" for everyone to eat), "let us begin class."

An hour later, Tino walked out of the class feeling delightfully refreshed. He had a passionate love for and an unmatched talent in the biological sciences, so the microbiology class was one of his favorites. He had his molecular biology class in thirty minutes, but, with nothing else to do, he made his way to that class as well (which he usually did; he was almost always there immediately after his microbiology class), planning on sitting outside of the door and studying his notes.

He did not expect to see the professor, Mr. Rome, standing outside lecturing a very tall blond student who looked like he was about to murder someone.

"If you fail another test, your future in this course will be very grim," the professor said. "I'm not sure why you did so badly on this exam, since you're usually a very bright student, but I expect a better performance on the next test ."

Tino stood awkwardly on the side, wishing that he could have escaped eavesdropping on the duo.

And then Mr. Rome caught sight of him.

"YOU!" he practically bellowed, pointing a finger at Tino, who quailed under the fierce pointing.

"I'm sorry!" he wailed, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop!"

The tall, blond student had turned as well, and he was glaring at Tino behind a pair of metal-framed glasses. Tino nearly fainted.

"I just had a wonderful idea," said Mr. Rome, eyes glinting as he ran a hand through his brown hair. "Väinä-whatever-inen, I hereby appoint you to tutor Oxenstierna here!"

A few seconds passed in silence.

"WHAT?!" screamed Tino, although whether this was a reaction to the butchering of his last name or to the fact that he had just been assigned the task of tutoring the incredibly fierce-looking and tall student in front of him, nobody knew.

The tall student's glare intensified at Tino's negative reaction. "No need," he muttered, the first words he had spoken since he had been taken out into the hallway by the professor.

"VäinäMinun, do you have any objections? " interrogated — asked — Mr. Rome. Tino slowly shook his head, extremely confused about the entire situation and feeling like he had just been thrown into a trap. "How about you, Oxenstierna?"

The blond student shook his head.

"Alright then, it's settled," declared Mr. Rome. "VäinäMunna, you will tutor Oxenstierna until his grades improve. As possibly the brightest biology student I have ever or will ever have, I expect you to help Oxenstierna plenty. See you later!"

"Wait!" called Tino, panicking. "For one thing, my last name is Väinämöinen, so stop referencing Pokémon — please. And for another thing, what am I tutoring Mister — Mister Oxenstierna in, anyways?"

"Well, he's taking the exact same class as you: Molecular Biology 456. So, there you go," said Mr. Rome. "Have fun, you two!"

And with a waggle of his eyebrows, Mr. Rome vanished into his classroom.

Tino stood outside facing the door and gaping like a goldfish. "What just happened?"

A tap on his shoulder shocked Tino out of his stupor. "Err... I... actually don't know your name," said Tino as he turned to address the other student.

"Berwald Oxenstierna. Swedish. Third year."

Tino hesitantly extended a hand; Berwald shook it surprisingly gently.

"Tino Väinämöinen. I've got Finnish roots, so I guess that's one way that we sort of relate, huh?" chuckled Tino weakly. "I'm in my second year of college, by the way."

"In this class as a second year?" mumbled Berwald, his facial expression shifting minutely. Tino laughed.

"Yeah, I'm sort of a biology person. I tested out of the beginner courses with almost perfect scores, so they threw me up few classes."

"Hm."

Tino bit down a whimper as Berwald's glare seemed to grow even more ominous, but the whimper forced its way out as sort of sneeze-cough-hack.

"So," said Tino once he had recovered from his strange fit, "when's a good time for you then? For a tutoring session, I mean; I'm free after four this afternoon ."

"Five?" asked Berwald quietly. Tino nodded.

"Okay. Here, let's get each other's phone numbers just in case."

After a moment of exchanging numbers, Berwald nodded curtly to Tino and went back into his class; Tino sat outside and pulled out his notes, feeling slightly overwhelmed and slightly afraid. The Swedish student simply looked intimidating, and it didn't help that he was almost twice Tino's height ("A hyperbole," said Tino's Novel Analysis 256 professor, "is an exaggeration, not meant to be taken literally. It helps to get the point across." Tino hated that class.).

But now, with nothing left to do but continue with his classes, Tino sat outside Mr. Rome's lecture hall and blankly read through his notes as he steeled himself to accept the newest activity that had barged into his life.