Sketchbook (Hetalia fanfic)

Chapter One - He's Out

Here's some background information about me:

My name is Chukotka, and I once was a part of Russia. That is until he started taxing us so much that I declared war on him and we fought one of the bloodiest wars in history. In the end I won, but somehow Russia was able to send me away to a "Juvenile Academy", in which I suffered greatly. In the Academy I didn't have any knives handy, but I did have a sketchbook, so I drew what I couldn't actually do. So eventually I got fed up with jail life and I escaped and made my way to a small town in New York State where the academy for countries is. And now we have reached the present...

~***~

I had been walking for all eternity and I wanted to find this blasted school, so I could just wound my brother and be over with it, and go back to my country.

It was a cool autumn day, with a slight breeze and leaves slowly falling off the trees being whisked away from their home, floating on the breeze. I had been wandering the streets of this small town for ages, my feet were killing me and my legs were going to give out from under me any second. I rounded the corner to see a ginormous brick building.

In the light of the morning sun, the school looked magnificent. It looked so welcoming, so happy. Oh well, I had to go hit my bro on the head with a something.

I walked slowly up to the school, not really sure what they (the countries of the world) would think of Russia's youngest sister coming in and all of a sudden hitting on the head with a something.

I bit my lip as I opened the glass door to the school. The commons was a large area with a exotic habitat with seats around it in the dead center. I saw the open wooden doors to the office and decided to go in and find out where the caf was.

"Hello?" I said, my voice shaking a little.

At my greeting a secretary I didn't recognize (no 'der) looked up from her computer. She smiled and asked, "are you a country?" She looked about 45, with short maroon-brown hair curled tightly against her head. She wore glasses on the tip of her nose with a beaded chain around her neck. She was fair skinned and had small green eyes. Her suit matched her hair and her short translucent scarf was a pastel yellow. Overall she had good taste.

I stepped into the office and up to the counter. "Yes," I said, absent mindedly laying a hand on the counter and drawing swirly patterns with my index finger. "Could you point me in the direction of the cafeteria, I want to say hi to my brother."

"Just walk down that hallway to your right," she pointed with her hand and continued, "you should hear the sounds before you see it. If you don't mind my asking, who's your brother?"

"Russia," I said with a fake smile. I waved to her and proceeded to the hallway she had motioned to.

She was right, I did hear it before I saw the open doors leading into the huge cafeteria. I spotted my brother right away. He was sitting with his back to me with the three Baltic states shivering in his wake.

I walked over to a young man, about my age actually, with his head down while he cooked something that smelled mmm. I didn't know who he was so I just guessed by his looks, long wavy blond hair pulled back into a loose pony tail by a purple ribbon. "Hey, France?" I asked casually.

"Yes, madame oilselle?" He said without looking up.

"Can I barrow a wrought iron pan?"

"Wee," he handed me the pan only glancing at me then double-taking as I walked away.

I made my way through the crowds of people to my brother's table. I held the pan behind my back as I stood behind Russia.

"R-R-R-R-Russia... th-th-there's a p-person b-b-behind you," Lithuania was shaking so much and mumbling that I was surprised when Russia replied.