Wish Upon A Star || A Hetalia Story [Countries x Chubby!Reader]

Chapter 9: Meeting the Axis - Japan

Even though her stomach was snarling at her to eat something, (Y/n) had to make it to her next class on time. Art classes had a tendency to have lots of crashers, and she didn't want her already enrolled seat to be taken.

Sure enough, when she entered the room, the majority of the desks had been occupied; there were smatterings of free ones throughout the rows, but they were surrounded by loud-mouthed, obnoxious groups of friends. Not wanting a headache, (Y/n) opted to take a seat towards the front, left corner of the room, near a man who was sitting alone. When she set her things down on the floor, making noise, the man seemed to flinch; noticing, the girl winced, feeling bad for startling him. After settling into her seat, and forcing herself to ignore the burning urge to apologize to the sensitive man, she folded her hands across the desk and waited for the professor to arrive.

I hope my growling stomach doesn't scare him even more...

Fifteen minutes later, the professor still hadn't arrived. With a groan, (Y/n) rubbed her eyes, grimacing at the sharp sounds of male laughter, curses, and grunts behind her. Why did she have to get the class with the party-boys?!

The girl's (e/c) chanced a quick look towards the quiet man to her left; he seemed to be faring worse than she was. His dark eyes were slitted and nearly shut, and his jaw was tight with suppressed annoyance. Deciding that she should take care of their mutual problem, (Y/n) pursed her lips and stood, her chair screeching horribly against the tile floor. Reeling around, she snapped at the offending men: "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid this is a college class for college students; not a free period for rowdy sophomores in high school."

The male students grew quiet immediately, a few choking out awkward laughter at the fury in (Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes; one decided to take it a step further.

"Well, I didn't know this was the class with stuck up, PMS-ing bitches--"

"Excuse me? What do you know about PMS-ing? Judging by your attitude, the most you know about female anatomy is that they don't have a popsicle stick between their legs, as you do. A woman's menstrual cycle is nothing to joke about; when we hurt, others get hurt. That being said, my cycle ended two weeks ago; I'm just starving, tired, and fed up with fourteen year-old boys in twenty year-old bodies. If you don't respect the sanctity that is this school, and realize that it is for mature education and betterment of self, I will start PMS-ing."

Not even bothering to appreciate the boys' mortified expressions, (Y/n) turned around again and flopped into her chair, body thrumming with adrenaline. Now that she wasn't seeing red, she realized what a horrible outburst that was; she hoped nobody noticed--

"Wow. Wow! Maybe you should be teaching this class, girlie! You'd get more done than I ever could. Everyone, this girl is ace!"

(Y/n) felt the blood fall from her face as the professor entered, a pearly grin stark against his messy, dark hair. The rest of the class, who apparently had heard the exchange, started cheering and applauding. Great; (Y/n) was a celebrity in art class.

"At any rate, my name is Professor Callaghan; no, not Cal-again, not Callie, or any crap like that. Call me my name, and I'll call you yours; Michael Adamson?"

While the professor took attendance, (Y/n) continued to sulk, her mechanical pencil doodling idle patterns on the front of her notebook. Entranced by her own embarrassment, she was quite surprised when a little, pastel-green ball was placed on her desk.

"Sumimasen... I couldn't help but hear you were hungry. Would you like some mochi ice cream?"

The soft, thick accent sounded out of place in the buzzing classroom, and (Y/n) turned towards it with a curious expression; the man she had startled earlier looked back with warm, onyx eyes, and a slight smile on his pale face. His black hair fell in layers in front of his temples, but still left his forehead visible; all in all, he had a very amicable expression. The girl offered a kind smile to the man, corners of her (e/c) eyes crinkling, "Mochi? That's new for college, but not for me. Thank you very much."