The Boy Who Fell From the Sky

"Bye-bye, now!"
And with that, he was falling, and for once, he didn't think he could save himself.
The ground was getting closer. The Himmelreich was getting farther and farther away.
For once in his life, Adolf K. Weismann felt his blood racing.

—•—•—

It didn't matter to Kukuri where she ran. Anywhere was fine. God, this was so embarrassing! All she had wanted to do was just work on helping with the school festival, but then Mishina...Ugh, Mishina...Mishina has to go and...

"Kukuri! I want to declare my love to you!"

If it had just been that, Kukuri might have been fine with it. But it wasn't. He just had to make his way to the very top of the clock tower.

So Mishina had been on the tower, high and mighty, arms spread, and bellowing his sappy, horrible soliloquy for the whole school to hear.

Kukuri had never felt so humiliated.

That's why she was running, and not really paying much attention to where she was going. Anywhere was fine; just not there.

That's really how it all started.

That's how she found him.

She had only briefly registered where she was—near the school gymnasium—when she heard a frightening crack from nearby, as if something fell. Cautiously, Kukuri made her way up to the door. It creaked open under only a light push.

Everything was in order, as far as she could tell. Nothing had fallen; there was nothing to have made that noise—

Wait.

What the—?

"What the heck?!" Kukuri stumbles back. At the very back of the room, with moonlight shining on him like a beacon, there was a boy. A maybe-unconscious, possibly-dead boy. A quick glance up and—

"Wh-Wha—?"

Part of the ceiling had been taken out. That explained the moonlight, at least, but then...how—?

Her feet had carried her to the boy without her really noticing. He seemed relatively unscathed, despite having fallen through the roof—although how he did it made no sense to her, as well as why he was up there in the first place. Which, speaking of, shouldn't he have been out with the other students, helping with the festival? Although, now that she though about it, Kukuri didn't recall seeing the boy before.

Wait, crap, is he alive?

Kukuri felt her face heat up in shame that she let herself get distracted at a time like this. She concentrated on the boy's movements, which were subtle, but visible. Good. He was breathing, at least.

Better wake him up.

Kukuri bent down and gently poked the boy's cheek, muttering, "Poke."

The boy groaned, his eyes slowly opening to reveal startling amber irises that almost glowed in the moonlight. And that's not just a cheesy exaggeration; they were actually glowing.

"Huh?" the boy sat up, rubbing his head and grimacing.

"Oh, thank goodness you're awake!" Kukuri beamed in relief.

"...Huh?" the boy repeated. He stared up at the ceiling, then at Kukuri, than at the ceiling again.

"I don't think we've met before. I'm Kukuri Yukizome. What's your name...?"

The boy paused for a moment, thinking.

"Adolf K. Weissman. But  you can call me Adi."

Kay fine I'll admit I'm avoiding HTBALIMS:ASBSG (wait that's way too long. How bout HTBAL) because I'm out of ideas and I'm currently running on minimal sleep and pure obsession for fandoms that aren't Hetalia (aka K Project and My Hero Academia. I'll probably post an MHA fic soon if I get an idea). I will get back to HTBAL eventually. Or soon idk. Whenever I get an idea. But I promise I will update.