Sadik Adnan enjoyed his profession. The fighting, seeing your opponent knocked down, all of it was quite entertaining for the Turk and served as a great way to blow off steam. He slipped on his mask and entered the arena, smiling at the sight of his energetic fans. You see, Sadik was a professional boxer; he may have been a little young to be one, being 16 and all, but it showed just what a boxing prodigy he was. Today, he was up against an Egyptian man who looked to be in his 20s - what was his name? Gupta? Ah well, it didn't matter; he'd be going down quickly.

Sadiq heard the bell go off to signal the beginning of the match, and he let all thoughts flow out of his head as he went into his 'boxing mode'. He had always been an aggressive child, and his aggression worked well in the ring: one minute the match would begin, the next minute his opponent would be out cold. No matter what defences were used against him, Sadik's subconscious found a way around it. The match went on for 2 minutes before Gupta got knocked out with a punch to the gut. As the applause rang out, Sadik couldn't help but feel a slight annoyance at the match's length. "Damn Egyptian brat! The match should've ended sooner than that! I knew I should be goin' to the gym and trainin' more often." Sadik thought as he exited the arena to meet with his manager and guardian.

The man, a 28 year old Cuban named Carlos Machado, saw Sadiq and greeted him with a smug grin. "Nice work in the arena, man." Carlos said with a cocky tone, giving the boxer a water bottle. "You been slackin' off or somethin'?" Sadik proceeded to glare at him and take a swig from the bottle. "Homework load at school - it's fuckin' insane!" Sadik growled in frustration as he remembered the stream of essays he had had to do for the entirety of the month. The Cuban nodded and grinned as he recalled Sadik attempting to do his homework when travelling to the arena - an image of the boy slamming his head down on the keyboard of his laptop and practically screaming at the thing. "Anyways, remember to stay in top shape Sadik. You have another few matches comin' up, and then there's that tournament next month. . ."

"Yeah yeah. I'll remember, old man." Sadik taunted his manager as they headed to Carlos' Lamborghini Reventón and got in. Then, Sadik groaned - it was Sunday, meaning he had to get his ass out of bed at 6:30 AM tomorrow so he could get to school on time. Oh, this month was looking to be a good one for Sadik Adnan.

The next morning, at 6:30 AM sharp, Sadik woke up to the sound of his annoying alarm clock and grudgingly went through his usual morning routine: wake up, get dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and skinny jeans, brush teeth and hair, shower, and go downstairs for breakfast. Carlos tossed him an apple and a water bottle, and the two got into the Reventón, driving to Sadik's school. The school, Hetalia Adolescent Academy, was a rather large and diverse one, with a large student body and almost all of them from different nations. In order to not get found out and therefore get swarmed by paparazzi, Sadik had taken on the false surname of Çelik instead of Adnan. Of course, it would take some getting used to, but the Turk thought he could pull it off. When Sadik arrived, he headed to the gymnasium, since his first class was physical education. The boxer had to pass through the soccer field on the way though, and as he passed, he got a glimpse of the soccer team and their dreadful captain practicing. The captain, a Greek named Heracles Karpusi, was a rival of Sadik's: in fact, the two couldn't stand each other. Which is why Sadik wasn't even surprised when he saw a soccer ball shoot across the field and hit him smack dab in the face.

It took Sadik a few seconds to realize what had happened, and as soon as he did, he got annoyed. He wasn't pissed off yet, oh no: if he was pissed, Heracles would be on his back and writhing in pain from a broken nose and a black eye. But, the soccer captain was still on his feet and running over to check on the other. "Oh Zeus, I am so sorry, dude! Are you al - oh wait, it's you." The Greek sighed, and glared at the boxer. Sadik smirked at the captain. "And your team won the Championships last year, Feta bread? Ya must be gettin' rusty to have such horrible aim." Heracles glared harder at the nickname, and blushed lightly in embarrassment. "Sh-Shut up, Turkish scumbag!" The man huffed. "My aim is perfectly fine: you were just in the way, μαλάκα!" Sadik simply shook his head and crossed his arms, watching the Greek squirm. "Well, I suggest ya shape up: if you keep goin' on like that, ya won't even be able to win a match against a paper bag!" Sadik walked away, laughing as he heard Heracles screaming and cursing at him in Greek. Oh, did he ever enjoy teasing and harassing the soccer captain: to think, he was the only one that could break Heracles so hard that the man forgot how to speak English momentarily! The Turk arrived at the gym and waited for class to begin.

So far, Sadik's classes had gone very well. Gym was never a problem, especially considering that their current unit was self-defence. Then there was Mathematics, which Sadik could've done better in, but Carlos was happy so there was no worry about that subject. Science was third period, and Sadik wasn't having any problems so far. Fourth period class, however, was a bit of a tricky one: History - American history. Carlos made him take it so he could learn more about the country he was currently living in, and oh dear god was he ever failing! His average in this class, a simple C, was disastrous compared to his other marks. Today, there were learning about some kind of war - either way, Sadik couldn't care less and spent the class staring out the window being grateful to Allah that his teacher, Miss Héderváry, was so inattentive and that most of his classmates could keep their eyes off of him. Well, except for one: the soccer captain from the morning, Heracles Karpusi, who kept sending him angry notes while the teacher was rambling.

At the end of class, the teacher called both him and Heracles back from leaving - which was a bit of a shock for them both. Had she caught them passing notes? Sadik pondered the possibilities as he and Heracles were led into Miss Héderváry's office and asked to take a seat. Miss Héderváry took a deep breath and sat down at her desk before talking. "Mister Karpusi, Mister Çelik. . .Mister Çelik. . .SADIK!" The Turk snapped his head up at his now red-faced teacher. "Can I help ya, Miss Héderváry?" He asked innocently. If Miss Héderváry wasn't pissed off already, she was now. "Pay attention, boy!" After another few deep breaths and a drink, the teacher continued. "Anyways, Mister Çelik, your grades have been slipping and Mister Karpusi's at the top of the class." Sadik heard Heracles snicker and turned to glare at him quickly before Miss Héderváry moved on. "What I suggest is that Mister Karpusi starts tutoring with you. He shall teach you - and hopefully get your grades up - until I deem it to be unnessecary. Is that clear?" Miss Héderváry smirked at the sight of the two boys with jaws open and eyes blinking in confusion. "Wha. . .what?"Heracles stuttered. "I-I can't teach this - this asshole! With all due respect, Miss Héderváry, it would be impossible to get through his thick skull!"

"Mister Karpusi, watch your language in this school!"The teacher snapped."You will teach him until I deem his grades are suitable. Understood?" Heracles frowned and nodded, knowing that students who defied Miss Héderváry usually ended up in bad situations. The teacher smiled at Heracles' submission to her demand and gave the two boys permission to leave. Sadik and Heracles quickly exited the office and the classroom in dead silence. They made it to the soccer field before Heracles screamed in frustration."THIS IS THE WORST!"The Greek shouted."And it's all your fault!"He pointed a finger at Sadik, who was trying not to laugh his ass off at the other boy's face, and swore in Greek. "So, since I have to tutor you, when should we start?"

"How about tomorrow after school?"Sadik chuckled and smirked. Heracles nodded in response and started walking home. "And remember to work on that kickin' aim, yeah!" Sadik laughed as Heracles flipped him off, and walked to the front of the academy to wait for Carlos' car.