English | Countryhumans | Season - 1

Bangladesh's Breakthrough

Spain was strolling down the corridor towards the classroom, his hands casually in his pockets, when Miss England stepped out of her office. Her sharp eyes caught sight of him, and she raised a hand to stop him.

"Excuse me, young man," Miss England called, her voice firm and authoritative.

Spain turned around, his easygoing smile lighting up his face. "Si, señora?" he responded cheerfully.

"Are you in Mr. UK’s class?" Miss England asked, crossing her arms expectantly.

Spain furrowed his brow, clearly not understanding. "Por favor?" he replied, his face blank with confusion.

Miss England sighed, already sensing the struggle. "Mr. UK’s class. Mr. United Kingdom’s class?" she repeated, emphasizing each word.

Suddenly, Spain’s face brightened, as if he’d finally figured it out. "Ahh, si, si! Spain Madrid," he said proudly, pointing to himself as if his name was the answer to everything.

Miss England blinked at him, unimpressed. "Are you really as stupid as you look?"

Spain chuckled, giving a careless shrug. "Hehehe."

Before Miss England could respond, Bangladesh appeared, walking towards the classroom with an equally perplexed look on her face. She too struggled with English.

"Excuse me, madam," Miss England said, turning to her. "Are you in Mr. UK’s class?"

"Ki?" Bangladesh replied, her brow furrowing in confusion. She glanced at Spain, silently asking if he understood what was going on.

Spain, unbothered, just shrugged again, as if saying, Join the club, I have no idea either.

Miss England threw her hands up in exasperation. "Doesn’t Mr. UK teach you anything?"

Spain, his clueless grin still plastered on his face, simply replied, "Por favor?"

Miss England sighed deeply, her patience running thin. Before she could say another word, India sauntered down the hallway, his steps confident as he headed towards class.

"Excuse me, young man," Miss England called out, this time with a glimmer of hope.

India stopped and turned, flashing her a charming smile. "What is it, missy?"

Miss England raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised by his response. "Well, that’s a breakthrough... Tell Mr. United Kingdom I want to talk to him. Tell him Miss England wants to speak to him."

India nodded, understanding completely, but before he could respond, Spain piped up again, "Por favor?"

Miss England threw him an irritated glance. "I wasn’t speaking to you," she said, rubbing her temples. "Ughh."

With one last frustrated glance at the trio, Miss England turned on her heel and marched back to her office, muttering under her breath. "Bloody foreigners," she whispered, shaking her head as she disappeared into her office.

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As the rest of the students settled in their seats, UK glanced at the clock, tapping his fingers on the desk impatiently. "I wonder what's taking them so long," he muttered.

From the back of the room, Pakistan leaned over with a smug grin. "Oh, please, it won’t be surprise me. I am always thinking, that son of a guru, was a Punjabi dropout, hehe!" He chuckled to himself, amused by his own offensive joke.

Just as he finished laughing, the classroom door creaked open, and in walked India, Spain, and Bangladesh. India, having overheard Pakistan's remark, shot him a sharp glare.