Please read this before reading the story

In this story, the characters will all be coming from different countries in our world. I have only been to two of the countries I chose for them; therefore I am largely working on stereotypes. Also, since they all come from different countries, of course they will be prejudiced towards each other. If country stereotypes offend you, you shouldn't read this.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. The title is taken from a song by the All-American Rejects.

You can sit beside me when the world comes down

-- Prologue --

English was a useless class. Why the hell did he need to learn another language? He lived in Germany, he spoke German, wasn't that good enough? He didn't plan to ever go to the USA or England or wherever else they spoke English.

Hidan thought that was a very good argument for skipping class.

He grabbed his backpack and climbed out of the window right after his math teacher left, immediately making a dash for the gates so no-one would see him.

It was actually quite a nice day; the May sun was shining and there was a cool breeze, making the weather perfect for relaxing. Maybe Hidan would just chill in the city rather than go home – it wasn't like he ever did his homework, anyway.

He took the next bus to the station, not at all concerned with getting caught.

Bus rides were something Hidan really hated. There were three types of people who sat next to you, no exception.

Exhibit A: the obnoxious fourteen year old cunts with the overstyled hair, way too much make up and a fake tan who basically had their cellphones taped to their ear, speaking in either an annoying accent or Arabic. They were also recognizable from a long distance because of their loud high-pitched voice and the smell of cheap perfume. Rude bitches.

Exhibit B: the wreck. Reeked of alcohol and never shut up. They would stagger into the bus, sit down next to you, let out a large burp and then start talking about things that you don't give a flying fuck about.

Exhibit C: the mother with her child. Oh God, how Hidan despised them. The kids smelled and were loud and never fucking sat still and the mothers never did anything to stop them! It was especially awful when the bus was so crowded that no-one fit in anymore, and those stupid bitches with their strollers decided they must try to squeeze in somehow.

Hidan wished they'd all get blown into bits and pieces.

And it wasn't like the train was any different; he had just escaped an old coot on the bus and on the train, one of those obnoxious foreigners stood next to him.

He had long blond hair, which Hidan found rather unusual, and wore it in a ponytail. One of his blue eyes was covered by his bangs. He grinned at Hidan, and Hidan really wanted nothing more than jump out the door and escape.

"Hi," the blond started, and then looked down at a little book in his hands. He sounded a little uncertain. "Eek been zoom ersteyn mall in Doitshland." ["Ich bin zum ersten mal in Deutschland" – "It's my first time in Germany" with an American accent]

Hidan stared at him for quite a few moments before he comprehended what the blond was trying to say. He narrowed his eyes and decided to use the only vocabulary he knew in English – because that guy was obviously English. "Fuck you."

The blond still grinned. "Oh, you speak English, yeah! I'm from America! Do you know where this train is headed, yeah?"

Hidan reconsidered his thoughts; this guy couldn't be English, he must have been American – he recognized that chewed-up way of speaking from songs; Americans always sounded like they were chewing something. Maybe a cheeseburger. Or five. That'd fit those McDonalds-inventing bastards. "Äh… I don't… speaks English goodly…"

"Oh, I see!" The blond consulted his book again before patting the train's wall. "Wo-heen?" ["Wohin" – "Where to"]

Hidan tried not to think about how stupid this way of communication was. "Köln… station?"

The train came to a stop at the next station – three before Hidan would get off – and the American placed his hand on the German teen's shoulder, beaming. "Thanks for the help, dude!"

Hidan furrowed his eyebrows, watching the American get out of the train, almost lost in the crowd of people entering if it wasn't for his bright blond hair. He tilted his head back and their gazes locked for one intense moment, and Hidan swore the blond was smirking.

The doors closed.

Hidan let out a sigh – whether it was in annoyance or relief, he didn't know. He tried to shift so people would stop bumping into him and promptly, his foot connected with something semi-soft.

He glared down, a little puzzled.

A chunk of clay…?

He shrugged and started pushing in between people to find a place to sit somewhere.


Deidara watched the train leave the station, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand. He chuckled and tilted his head, mentally counting to ten before closing his yes. "Explode."


This is John Smith reporting for CNN live from Brühl, Germany, where a train exploded around noon today. The bodies of 39 passengers have been found so far, there have yet to be any survivors, and it is unclear exactly how many people were on the train at that moment. A lot of children and teenagers are amongst the victims, they were on their way home from school when –"

"Mince alors," Sasori cursed, turning down the volume. "Deidara, tu es vraiment taré…" [God damnit, Deidara, you are seriously crazy]

"I heard my name, yeah! I knew ya'd miss me, Sasori!"

The redhead glared at the window, where Deidara was currently climbing inside. "What were you thinking, Deidara?! Des enfants! You were supposed to target a train during rush hour, with les adultes, pas des children!"

Deidara rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, yeah? The boss didn't specify and I did it whenever, yeah. Now stop complaining, you know I can't take you seriously when your accent comes out so strongly, hm."

Sasori's glare darkened. "Va te faire foutre, fils de pute!" [„Fuck off/kiss my ass, son of a bitch!"]

„I mean, I don't get why you're so pissed." Deidara pretended to think. "Hmm… is it because I just proved my art's effectiveness, yeah? A few lumps of clay scattered over the train, and bam, everybody inside is dead. Art is a bang, yeah!"

"Oh-oh! This is John Smith reporting, and they just found a survivor! They won't let us go any nearer, but from the size, it could be a teenager – h-he's unconscious, but alive! There's a survivor!"

Sasori smirked, taking a sip of wine and completely enjoying Deidara's devastated face. "Seems like your err… what you call 'art' is not as good as you say."

"What?! That's not fair, hm!" Deidara pointed accusingly at the TV. "I left one in every wagon! There can't be any survivors, they're lying, yeah!"

Sasori let the taste of the wine (and of sweet satisfaction) linger on his tongue, making an appreciative noise and ignoring Deidara. "I sink we will 'ave snails for dinner tonight… And per'aps mousse au chocolat or crème brulée for dessert. I feel in a festive mood suddenly."

"Don't ignore me! I'm telling you, there's something up with that kid, yeah, he can't be alive! Master Sa – Master Sa-soooo-reeeeee!"

-- /Prologue --

Next chapter title: "A Midnight Visitor".

Please let me know what you think, and I wish everyone happy holidays, whichever you happen to celebrate!