Hello everyone, and welcome to my latest fic (which could have been called 'Dude Looks Like A Lady' had I not recovered from my sugar rush in time). It's the summer holidays at the moment and I had this idea a few weeks back and it hasn't left me. And then before I realised it, I've written a few chapters and pretty much have the whole thing planned out. So I hope you can enjoy it :)

NOTE: After much deliberation, this story will eventually end up as USUK (you can all thank LucyMoon1992 for that because she convinced me to make it USUK and not RusEng :P)
However, as is mandatory in a fic set during highschool that contains delinquent!Arthur, there shall be plenty of humour and drama before we get there :P There will also be other pairings featuring in here, but some are quite odd so I'll let those be a surprise~

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own the cover art, if anyone knows the source then I'd be happy to credit. And Hetalia belongs to Hima-papa~

x~x~x~x~x

CHAPTER ONE- In Which Possibly The Craziest Idea Ever Is Conceived

Ragged pants fought to escape cut and bloodied lips, piercing dark eyes glaring up at the one who had inflicted such damage. The guy was hunched over in pain, sure that some of his ribs were bruised or even possibly broken. He spat at the bastard opposite from him who was looking rather amused by the whole display, his thumbs casually hooked in the pockets of his torn and faded black jeans.

"Fuck you," the guy practically snarled.

For a moment, the amused blonde seemed to be considering it before he pulled a face. "Nah, I'm all right, mate. Grow a pair of tits and maybe we'll talk."

Oh the glare he was sent for that statement.

"Look," the uninjured one spoke, very matter-of-factly, "You were the one who picked the fight. You were the one that sought me out when I actually had better things to do than to smash your bloody face in. You challenged me, because I've not been beaten yet." A cocky smirk. "So what did you want? Street cred? Girls? Respect or something? Don't pick fights you can't win, idiot."

He gave the other one last look before he held his hands up as if in surrender, smiling lopsidedly. "Contrary to popular belief I actually don't like violence."

A snort from his opponent.

"I'm honest. But for some reason I've become a target. It's hardly fair, wouldn't you agree?" He cocked his head to the side in a move that would probably fool most into thinking he was completely harmless and very innocent. Needless to say, though, that when you've just nearly sent someone to a Casualty Ward words like 'innocence' aren't the first to spring to mind. "Well, I'm bored now. Later." He turned around without sparing the hunched figure a second glance.

"I'll fucking kill you!" was yelled after him, but he only laughed. "I mean it, Kirkland!"

Emerald eyes suddenly focused on the downed figure with such an intensity it was almost like being punched again. "Oh? Well I look forward to it."

And then he stalked off, the fight forgotten as far as he was concerned.

x~x~x~x~x

"Hey, Rome, sorry I'm late!" Arthur called as he stepped through the doorway into the small antique shop where he worked. The little bell tinkled as well to signal his arrival, and as the Brit made his way behind the till, a mop of dark brown hair suddenly popped up from behind a large vase, followed by the rest of the man known as 'Rome' (it wasn't his real name, actually, but Arthur thought it fit well seeing as most of the antiques and replicas here were from the Ancient Rome period and so he just sort of took to calling him that. The Italian didn't seem to mind).

"Don't worry, it's fine~" he hummed, stepping closer to his only employee and looking at him critically.

Arthur wasn't normally one to feel self-conscious, but when you're being stared at it sort of becomes inevitable. "What?" he asked irritably after a few more moments had passed.

"You got into a fight." Not a question, not even a telling off. Just a statement; a summary of events.

"Yeah," he grunted in reply, leaning against the desk. "I'm not sure how you can tell though. The bloke went down in under five minutes and barely landed a hit on me, so..." he sighed. "Yeah," he repeated, lamely.

Rome suddenly grinned and laughed happily. "You're a good little fighter, that's for sure," he said proudly, and Arthur couldn't help but laugh a bit at the man's antics. Shouldn't he be scolding him right about now?

"I know I shouldn't really be encouraging you," he said, scratching the back of his neck (ah, so he knows that much), "But my own grandkids aren't really into fighting, so I suppose you are a nice change of pace." That should have really been the end of it, but the infamous 'grandkids' had been mentioned and so Arthur set about organising the money in the till because this was the part where he launched into a dreamy explanation of them (or one of them, the other was mentioned but didn't have a report as glowing as his brother's).

"He is really good at art and painting, I told you didn't I?" Rome asked with a dreamy smile.

"Yeah yeah," Arthur nodded in agreement, neatly arranging the five-dollar bills before placing them back. He seriously doubted the existence of these grandchildren. Not only had he not seen them even though they supposedly lived in the area, but Rome didn't seem old enough to have grandkids at this stage, not that Arthur knew his age, but still.

What were they even called again? They were allegedly twins, he knew that much. They had obviously Italian names as well… Bolognese and Oregano. Yeah, close enough. Bolognese was the arty one and Oregano was the one mentioned with a smile, but not as bright as the one for Bolognese. Oregano was more violent as well, apparently.

"And he drew me a picture of a bunny when he was just six years old~" Rome hummed, reclining back on a chaise longue as he began muttering happily to himself. Arthur raised an eyebrow, but didn't bother passing comment. He had seen his boss in this state far too often for it to be unusual.

"Want me to get some grapes for you to eat while you reminisce?" he asked jokingly, "Perhaps locate that toga I saw in the back of the shop that time?"

Rome stopped his daydreaming and looked at him seriously before opening his mouth. "That actually sounds go-"

"I was joking, I'm not doing any of that."

"So mean," he sighed dramatically, though he didn't seem particularly bothered by it. "I'm sat on this beautiful Roman creation and yet you won't help me go for more authenticity."

"The Egyptians created it," Arthur said dryly, "Then the Greeks laid claim to the chaise longue before the Romans came along."

"That reminds me," the brunette said, getting up and beginning to root around some of the shelves, looking for something. "There's a scholarship exam coming up for World Academy W."

"How did that remind you about a scholarship?"

"You're smart, so maybe you could get it?"

The blonde scoffed. "Please, like someone like me would fit in with those snobs. Besides, I only know the stuff I've read about. I don't think they're interested in what my mind has to offer or anything."

"You could always try?" Rome asked, pulling a slip of paper out from one of the vases and ignoring Arthur yelling at him to not put random crap inside the bloody antiques. "Here," he handed it over with a flourish and Arthur gave it a withering glance before sighing and slipping it into his pocket.

"I'll look it over, but I'm not gonna go for it."

"But if you do, you could meet my grandsons~"

Ah. So that's what this was about. "As charming as they sound, they wouldn't be the reason I'd go." He pushed off of the counter and began to head down one of the isles the small shop had to offer. "Now I need to go and find that amulet made from red Jasper. Someone placed an order for one."

Rome grabbed his wrist before he could advance too far, however, and levelled him a look. "Please give it a go," he urged, and when Arthur only glanced away looking slightly annoyed he pressed on. "I know you don't really like America, and you don't have any friends, and you always get into fights, and you're smart but you don't go to school."

"Is this meant to be a pep talk?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because it's pretty shi-"

"Listen, I'm getting to the good part! Ahem," he cleared his throat, "I know you don't go to school because you need to work here and the money goes towards your rent, but as your guardian I feel it is my duty to make you go for this."

"Since when were you my guardian?" Arthur muttered, though he was touched at the role Rome had assumed, even if he wouldn't let him know that.

"Your mother asked me to look over you before she…" Both males winced, and that particular sentence was left unfinished. "You can work the shop in the evenings, and you can still earn enough for the rent. But consider the scholarship, all right? If you're going to get an education, you may as well go to one of the top places in the world, right?"

There were times (most of the time, actually) where Arthur dubbed Rome as a slightly batty old man who was nice enough on most days, had a damn terrifying temper whenever someone pissed him off, and didn't usually offer wise advice (praising Arthur on winning fights, for example, when technically he should have discouraged it). But then there were other times, however few they were, where Rome said something truly wise, or showed a compassion that wasn't seen very often. Both of them knew that Arthur didn't have anywhere close to the money required to pay the fees for an elite place like World Academy W, and even if Arthur did mock the uniform clad students and claimed that they were all snobs that he would never hang out with even if he was held at gunpoint, he knew he was missing out.

He actually did enjoy learning, liked the idea that having knowledge could unlock more of the world. So if he could get into a school that had such renown then it would probably stand him in better stead later on…

He sighed, nodding noncommittally and grunting in a way that promised nothing before he pulled away from Rome and began to enact his search of the shelves. Rome let the issue drop and went back to the chaise longue, and when Arthur pointed out that as the boss of the place he should probably, oh I don't know, get off your arse and do something productive, he smiled and was back to his usual teasing and light-heartedness.

x~x~x~x~x

Arthur practically flopped through the door and into his small flat at around quarter past eight that evening, utterly exhausted from the earlier fight and then having to deal with Rome being, well, Rome, for the last few hours. He was considering just going to sleep straight away and when he heard the eager sound of something fast approaching, he just braced himself because his lack of energy would be no match for the rapidly approaching fur-ball that had nothing but.

And so he ended up sprawled across the floor and laughing as his dog bowled him over enthusiastically.

"All right all right, down boy!" he managed, trying to push the eager border collie away from him though he wasn't as successful as he hoped in this endeavour. "Farley, sit! Sit!" Through some miracle, the dog actually did stop after about a minute of issuing a loving assault and sat obediently, tail wagging and looking up at Arthur expectantly.

Right. There would be no sleeping for anyone unless Farley got his walk.

"Sometimes you are so annoying, you know that?" he asked, though he was smiling as he headed for the small kitchenette and Farley happily followed behind, practically jumping up and down as soon as Arthur reached for the dog bowl and began to fill it.

When the dog finally got his long awaited food, Arthur sat down on a chair and idly watched him. "You're spoilt," he stated, very seriously, though the dog paid him no attention. He couldn't really afford to keep him, in all honesty, plus his flat was technically not allowed to house animals. Luckily for him he was on good terms with the landlady who understood his rather unique predicament and so wasn't quite as evil as she could be if he ever got behind on the rent. It had taken a good few hours of begging for her to agree to let the dog stay though, but after telling the tragic tale of the poor stray who would have died had Arthur not found him, and Farley offering an absolutely devastating kicked puppy look, the animal became a very permanent addition to the flat and to Arthur's life.

"Rome thinks I should go for a scholarship to a snobby academy," Arthur said conversationally, and Farley briefly stopped guzzling long enough to glance up at the Brit to let him know that he was listening and also give him a look that said, 'So go for it then'. "Yeah, but look at me," he gestured to all of himself, pointing out his wild hair, his torn jeans, his shirt that, while very amusing, wasn't really appropriate with its expletives. "They'd probably take one look and send me away."

"Arf!"

Arthur hummed. "It would be kinda cool though, I suppose, to get in… Yanno, just to be able to stick my middle finger up at all of those snobs who sneer at me when they pass me on the street or treat me like an idiot. If I got in then I could represent everyone who was ever ridiculed at the hands of those rich wankers."

Farley had resumed eating but Arthur was suddenly feeling very self-righteous and felt the need to issue a grand speech for the benefit of his dog and the rest of his sparse furniture. "For too long people have been labelled based solely on looks!" he said dramatically, standing up on his chair. "So what if I like to fight? It's cool to test my strength, that's all; I'm not a nutter who's addicted to violence. And yeah I curse, what are you gonna fucking do about it?" he asked defiantly. "So you put the prices up to stop 'scum' like me getting into your oh-so-elite school, huh?" He had actually been called scum on more than one occasion. Those Academy twats were lucky that they could run damn fast and that Arthur was far too busy eating a chocolate bar to seriously pursue them. "Well this stops now! I'll get that scholarship and prove everyone wrong. Plus I suppose it would be a nice change of pace from lounging in the antique store all day."

Farley had finished his food at this point and was looking up at Arthur who was still stood on the chair, and began woofing by way of cheering such a beautiful monologue (or at least, that's how Arthur was taking it).

"All right boy, let's go on a walk!" Arthur said, suddenly much more energised as he hopped off of the chair and snatched the lead from the counter, causing Farley to go into something of a frenzy.

x~x~x~x~x

Even the most cynical person couldn't help but stare at the grand building that was World Academy W. Or buildings would be more correct. The elite high school was a great sprawling campus but not one of the buildings were the dreaded birth child of concrete and some wayward designer's idea of 'innovation'. No, it was truly a thing of beauty with its polished appearance of red brick and carefully selected climber plants that were clearly chosen with care and were kept meticulously.

Arthur had never been inside the building before, and thus had never really seen the full extent of the campus, but he had heard people talking about a fountain of all things, and a pool and tennis courts and, well, pretty much anything you could imagine. There was probably a special building for butlers to wait until their young masters and mistresses had finished their school day.

The blonde scoffed, but he headed towards the entrance and shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing from side to side where there were neat patches of grass, like tiny gardens, that were edged with roses of varying colours. And upon closer inspection they had all been dethorned.

"Christ," he murmured, "How the other half live, eh?"

He pushed the door open and found a squeaky clean corridor with rows of neat lockers. No rubbish strewn about, no lewd graffiti scribbled on the lockers… It was like he had stepped onto some sort of alien planet. Were the people who attended here really of high school age? But then he remembered that it was the summer holidays at the moment, so it wouldn't be difficult to imagine that the place had been cleaned up in the weeks where the building was unoccupied. He pressed on nevertheless, following the signs for the reception, and he eventually came across a door labelled, surprise surprise, 'RECEPTION'.

He wondered if it would be appropriate to knock, but then what if there was no one there and he was just hitting the door like a lunatic? He decided against it and just walked in, earning a disapproving look from the receptionist, a woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes that were currently looking him up and down and clearly not liking what they saw.

Shit. Should've knocked.

"Have you got the right building?" she asked, clearly finding it far too difficult to wrap her mind around the idea that Arthur was actually meant to be there. He detected some sort of accent, though he didn't dwell on it and instead said "yeah" a bit more defensively than he meant to.

"Hm. Come here," she ordered, and Arthur, not one to ever like being told what to do, deliberately hung back for a moment, just until the woman looked like she was about to call someone to kick him out, then he advanced. He wasn't sure why she was looking at him as though he was a barbarian. He had actually tried to tame his hair today (it failed) and he was wearing a plain white t-shirt so as not to cause offense. Even his denim jeans didn't have that many tears in them, and everything was clean. But apparently it didn't meet her high standards.

"What is your business here?" she asked, with a snooty air about her, and the Brit was seriously wondering if he wanted to come to a place where the people were probably like this all the time.

"I'm here to sign up for the scholarship test being held here in two weeks," he said as nicely as he could given the circumstances. He brandished the leaflet he had gotten from Rome as if that would explain everything.

The woman blinked, as if trying to put two and two together, before she bit her lip and quickly excused herself, running off into a back room and leaving Arthur stood there alone.

"Charming," he muttered, deciding to glance around at the décor. There were some rather nice paintings that probably cost a lot more than they should, and a neat row of cushioned chairs along the back wall for people to wait on. There were two coffee tables off to the side sporting various magazines and there was even a small fish tank. Yes, this place was definitely in a different league.

The woman- Jeanne, if he was to believe the little silver plate giving the receptionist's name- returned with an Asian man before she pointed to Arthur. "This is the young man I informed you about," she said, "The one who would like to sit the scholarship exam."

Again, the man looked at him with curious eyes that edged more towards disapproval before he cleared his throat. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Arthur."

"Well, Arthur, I'm afraid…" the man hesitated, as if trying to think how best to say something, "Well, there aren't any places left."

"What?" Arthur asked incredulously. "All I want to do is sit a test! How can there be no places left?"

"We are all about equality here at World Academy W, aru," he explained, a fake apologetic look plastered on his face, "We have already had a lot of male applicants, so we are only looking for girls to take the test now."

Now Arthur may not be an expert in the inner workings of a school, but he knew bullshit when it was being served up to him on a silver bloody platter.

"You can't be serious."

"We are I'm afraid," the man said, "Though by all means, you are more than welcome to try again next year."

Basically, translated, that meant, 'We do not want someone like you contaminating our school'.

Well fine. He could take the hint. It wasn't like he was oblivious or anything. "Whatever," he scoffed, his hands returning to the depths of his pockets as he turned around, "Wouldn't wanna come to a stuck up place like this anyway. Go fuck yourselves with those silver spoons you were born with, yeah?"

Indignant sputtering was the background noise as he left the reception (slamming the door behind him in an act of childish defiance) but before he made his way back down the corridor and out of the place that he didn't really see himself going to anyway, he hung back when he heard the two people muttering.

"Were we right to turn him away?" the woman asked.

"Yes. Someone like that could ruin the sterling reputation of our Academy. Our scholarship is for the less fortunate, not for delinquents."

"He might not have passed anyway though."

"Would you want to take that risk?"

"No…"

"Well we won't see him again. He thinks only girls can apply now, so there's nothing he can do."

The conversation then took a turn into monotony as they discussed whether they had placed the correct amount of orders for the upcoming school year and Arthur used all of his willpower to not go back in there and throttle that stupid Asian guy, whoever the hell he was.

He stormed out of the building and glared at the immaculate buildings. He stuck his middle finger up at them.

"Wankers, I don't need them or their school," he muttered angrily, wondering why he had even bothered making an effort (he honestly had, it wasn't his fault that he couldn't afford the fucking gold threads that the others could). "Just tell me you didn't want me instead of lying, cowards," he carried on, walking down the pavement and not paying attention to his direction. "Only open to girls? I'm not stupid, why d'ya think I was going for the bloody scholarship?!"

So it probably wasn't healthy to be talking to oneself, but no one was around and he was pissed off. Why could he never catch a break?! It was always raised eyebrows and unsure glances and stupid challenges to fight from weak people who didn't know what they were doing or- or it was having to leave his country because of his mother's new job and- and not having his mobile charged to tell his mum that no, it was fine, he didn't need anything from the store so don't… don't go there because…

"Argh! For fuck's sake!" he yelled, clenching a fist and punching the closest possible surface, which just so happened to be a brick wall. He cursed lightly, but didn't make too much of an effort to do anything beyond that as he cut the skin deep enough for blood to slowly trickle down his fingers. "Fuck…"

So that was it. Business as usual. Go see Rome, work at the antique shop, walk Farley, rinse and repeat. How long would he keep doing this? Why was he even doing it? The future wasn't exactly bright, and he could always go to one of the normal schools, but the ones in the area weren't known for excellence and were essentially just fighting grounds. Which Arthur would excel in, mind you, but it was pointless because he did all of that on the streets anyway (and he had probably beaten the toughest guys at such schools anyway). It was as if he was walking around and was constantly being followed by a bright neon sign that read, 'OPEN TARGET'.

They probably thought it would be an easy fight given the fact that he wasn't the tallest or bulkiest guy around. Some bastard even said he thought he was a girl from behind, and that had-

Wait.

Arthur's eyes widened, the stinging in his hand forgotten. A girl? He had been mistaken for a girl…

Now Arthur knew that the wisest thing to do would be to forget this whole ridiculous day out, forget about World Academy, and just continue on with life. But, as previously stated, the blonde hated being told what to do. And if he couldn't have something, well, he just wanted it even more. So to be so obviously refused a place just fuelled the fire within him to get in there at any cost, prove everyone wrong, and then he had gloating rights for eternity.

He looked at his surroundings and saw that he had subconsciously been heading into town anyway. Oh how convenient.

"Only girls can apply?" Arthur murmured, "Then fine. I'll play by your rules. For now."

x~x~x~x~x

So I'm hoping you guys will stick with this, especially when we actually get Art into the Academy. I'll try my best to post chapters quickly, seeing as I actually know where this is going (unlike INWYT! where I just let the random go wherever it wants to XD)

Oh, and the dog? Yeah, I see Iggy as a dog person (for two reasons: one of his National Animals is a dog, and dogs are the most popular house-pets in Britain) so enjoy Farley's silliness!

Until next time then~ And please review? I'm always terrified when I post a new story and reviews help to keep me confident "n.n

xx-animeXalchemist-xx