It was a common thing. To see Finland on the side of the river, hurt in some way or another. He was complaining to the only 2 nations that were present at that moment, England and France, who just happened to be fishing there.
"G-guys," Finland sobbed, "P-please listen to my tale..."
England sighed "What's wrong, now? Did you trip, fall, and hit your head or something just as outrageous?"
Finland flailed "N-no! I swear I just tripped this time... B-but that isn't the point! I'm not here to complain about what happened to me.. It's about... A little boy."
"You're here to complain about un petit garçon, Finlande?" France quirked an eyebrow, amused at the thought of a boy doing something to give Finland that bump on his head.
"Yes- I mean, No! I'm here to tell you guys of a boy I found on the way here... Actually, this isn't the first time I've come acrosss the child. He seems to wonder around with the rabbits in a huge open field.." Finland paused to take a deep breath "I think..."
"You mean...?" England continued.
"He could possibly be..." France added.
"My little brother?" They all finished.
England glared at France and grabbed him by the neck, strangling him.
"Are you spouting nonsense again?! He is MY little brother!"
France had also grabbed England, "Angleterre, YOU must be speaking blasphème of MY frère cadet!"
"G-guys! Let's just go to the kid and ask..." the two paused. A mischievous glint in both of their eyes. Finland sighed. This was going to be a long day...
"Over there." Finland pointed to the child in the middle of a field, hiding in the tall grass.
"Hah! I told you he was MY brother! Just one look at the child's hair and you can immediately tell!" England boasted.
"Ah, but he OBVIOUSLY has MY eyebrows! So elegant! Unlike those caterpillars on your face!~" France pointed out, smirking as England flushed red in anger and embarrassment.
Finland approached the child, who seemed to have noticed the party and had begun staring a them with innocent curiosity. Finland nodded at the boy, who in response, nodded back.
"Hey guys, how's he related to me?" Finland asked with a smile.
"A-ah, related through spirit!", "O-Oui! Don't worry mon cher Finlande!" The two nations seemed to not want any more competition, so Finland merely sighed and crouched down, returning his attention to the boy.
"What's your name, pikkuinen?", Finland gave the boy a friendly smile.
"Name?" the boy repeated.
"Yeah, don't you have a name? Everyone has a name!"
The boy stared blankly at Finland, who in turn sighed.
"What do I call you then?"
The boy shrugged, his cowlick bouncing with the enthusiastic movement.
The two European nations had emerged from their cautious position behind the grass and approached the lad to have a closer look at his features.
Sandy blonde hair that was set to be a perfect mess. Vibrant, sky blue eyes that were filled with emotions. Slightly tanned skin. His face was the perfect description of youth.
"How cute!~" France exclaimed as he looked over the child.
"Such a cute face.." England murmured, feeling his fingers twitch, his fingers having the urge to run themselves through the boy's hair and try to tame the stubborn cowlick...
A rabbit jumped into the boys arms and he immediately nuzzled his face into the creature, hiding the modest blush that spread across his face.
The 3 nations looked at each other and laughed.
"I'd like to adopt the boy, nation or not.." Finland smiled. Of course he was joking, but it was a nice thought if England and France decided to give the little boy to him. The boy was simply too cute for his own good!
"Agreed." England chuckled. He was never fond of children who cried, but this boy seemed to do nothing but smile. And that feature of his was truly endearing.
"Oui, le garçon est beaucoup trop mignon.~" France agreed, nodding thoughtfully.
Finland chuckled to himself. Though he knew that he had important matters to attend to, so he guessed it was time to leave.
"Well, see you soon, then? And be careful of these two..." he teased and ruffled the boy's hair, before dragging the other two nations away from the new land.
England yawned. It was far too early for him to even be up, but he figured that if he was going to get the boy before France, might as well get a head start. England spotted the familiar strand of hair sticking out from the grass and he jogged towards the boy, smiling.
"Hah! There you are!" England smirked as he approached the boy. The lad had turned around and caught a glimpse of England, but did not run from his spot.
"Wow, you're one lucky lad! I don't just go around visiting kids like you so early in the morning, you know?" England smiled warmly at the boy.
"You came to see me? Awesome!" the boy giggled, looking directly into England's emerald eyes, which were wide in surprise.
"H-hey... Aren't you scared?" England had to ask. You'd think two strangers watching your every move would scare a boy out of his wits.
The boy shook his head. "Nope! Heroes never get scared! And you guys looked funny!"
England chuckled then sighed. "Okay, then from now onwards, you will be my little brother!"
"Mm. Then, can I call you 'big brother'?" the boy smiled. England felt his heart skip a beat. 'Brother...' he thought. Nobody has ever called him that. Not even Ireland, and they were really related! England stared at the boy. His sandy blonde hair, although sticking out a bit, was perfectly arranged. A little cowlick sticking up proudly just where his fringe began. Huge, round, and most of all, beautiful sky blue eyes staring right back into his emerald ones.
England flushed. He felt like he was taking advantage of the lad. But it had to be done! Better himself rather than that bloody pervert of a frog, France.
"... Okay. I'm your big brother, and you're my little brother." England whispered modestly.
The boy grinned "Yay! See you tomorrow then, big brother!"
And with that, England left the new land, a smile plastered on his face as he thought of the lad, his new 'little brother'.
"Okay then! We let the boy decide between the two of us!" France grinned, knowing how much he had to offer for the boy compared to England.
"Yes. He'll decide for us." England turned to the boy, a creepy smile on his face as he approached the boy. "C'moon... Remember what we promised yesterday... Come here..." he breathed out, loud enough for the lad to hear.
The boy grimaced and tears built up in his eyes. The look on England's face could scare anyone! He burst into tears, clinging onto his shirt with one hand as the other instinctively went up to wipe away the tears.
"Ah! Angleterre! You made the boy cry!" France tisked, then called for some of his men to bring him a silver platter. He took the platter carefully and crouched down, offering the food to the boy.
"Here. Come with me and you'll get nothing but the finest! Clothes, culture, food, everything!" France smirked. He was going to win.
England panicked and turned to his own men. "Well? Don't just stand there! Do something!" he screamed, almost desperately. The men just hid their hands behind their backs mumbling incoherent explanations and excuses.
"Of course..." England began, "I knew from the start... That we would have absolutely nothing to offer..." and he sat on the grass, ducking his head in his arms as he curled up, crying silently at the loss of his beloved 'little brother'.
The boy stared at France, then at England. He looked at England with sad eyes and tears gathered at the rims. He wiped them away and walked towards England, grabbing his sleeve and tugging it lightly to get his attention. England lifted his head slowly and was shocked to see the boy.
The boy sniffed before putting on a brave face and asking "Are you okay, big brother?" and it was decided.
The wind blew gently as England rocked the small boy in his arms. France had announced his loss fair and square and had left the land that, now, belonged to England. England smiled down at the boy in his arms. He wrapped his arms around the small frame and held him closer.
"New England." he whispered. He would think of a better name later. He was just tired of referring to the lad as just 'lad' or 'boy'. The boy opened his eyes slightly and smiled.
"England." the boy said, as if he was learning how to speak all over again. "England... England.." he repeated.
England blushed slightly and shook his head. "I... I'll think of a better name for you later..." he muttered to the lad and kissed his forehead.
Then, England turned his attention to his new land. He looked at how big, beautiful, vast, and fruitful this land was. Woodland creatures still lurked around the field. England closed his eyes. He knew now, he had to do this. A mere child was gifted with such tremendous lands. 'This land...' England thought, 'One day... This land will burden the child. And when that day comes... I'll be there to help him through. To make sure he survives.'
England had not realized that the child was stirring slightly in his arms and before he could react, the boy had jumped out of his arms and ran towards an animal,
"W-wait! Come back here!" England called out. He squinted his eyes to see just what the boy was running after. It was brown... Had horns... A tail- Dear Lord, it was a bull!
England panicked and ran after the child. "H-hold on! I'll sa..." he trailed off at the site. The boy had grabbed the bull by the hooves and spun it around like it was lighter than a pillow. The boy was laughing as he did this. England gulped. Maybe the child didn't really need his help... 'B-but it's always better to have guidance, right?' he thought, trying to find an excuse to keep the child.
The boy was ridiculously strong. Stronger than him, even, but, that didn't mean that the boy was wise. There. The boy needed wisdom from him, obviously.
England stared at the child in awe, before chuckling to himself and sighing. "America..." he whispered. "You're name will be America.".