Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. It rightfully belongs to it's owner Hidekaz Himaruya. I am not trying to make profit out of it. Just practicing my writing skills with my favorite manga !
A tall man with medium length blond hair walked down the street holding hands with a child.
The child looked up to the man. "Grand frère?" (big brother) he asked.
The man looked curiously at the child. "Oui Canada?"
When the man had told Canada he was going to meet his brother it had surprised him. It was their first reunion and Canada didn't know what to expect. He had been silent on the way to America's house even though his head was full of questions, but as they got closer he felt more and more uneasy.
"Quel genre de personne est mon frère?" (What type of person is my brother?)
The man frowned, thinking about how he could describe him without being too pejorative. He's over excited and can be a pain.
"On peut dire qu'il est… sociable. Je pense que tu t'entendras avec lui." Enfin je l'espère. (We can say that he is… sociable. I think you will get along with him. Well I hope.)
Canada smiled.
They had arrived. Canada was a little tense and hid behind his "grand frère". The man barely knocked once that the door swung open. In front of him stud another child who looked almost identical to Canada, except instead of a composed demeanor, stud a very excited child. Behind the child stood a man with short dirty blond hair who didn't look pleased to see them, although it was more the other man he didn't want to see.
"Francis" he gave a curt nod in greeting.
"Arthur" replied the other.
Francis looked behind to the child who was hiding behind him. "N'ai pas peur." (Don't be afraid.) He reassured, gently placing Canada in front of him. Canada looked down.
"B-Bonjour…" he murmured.
"Hi, I'm America!" The other child exclaimed, he then took Canada's hand and dragged him inside.
The children ran down the hall to the living room while the adults took their time. Francis and Arthur sat down on the sofa, Arthur trying to sit as far away as possible, while the kids played on the floor.
"You can have the blue car and I'll have the red one." America said, handing him the toy car. "Let's race!"
For a couple of minutes there was silence, besides the children playing; Arthur and Francis said nothing. All Arthur wanted to do was kick Francis out of the house. They both agreed that the two children needed some time together to get to know each other but couldn't he just drop off Canada? Arthur thought.
"So Arthur, how have you been?" Francis engaged in polite conversation.
Arthur was looking the other way, his elbow resting on the arm of the sofa and his head resting on his fist. "I don't have anything to say to you." He replied with an edge to his voice.
Francis rolled his eyes. "Mon Dieu… Why are you so grumpy all the time?"
Arthur turned his head and glared back. "Only with you! You get on my nerves."
"No need to be like that, mon petit lapin*." France grinned, knowing that it will tick him off even more; he wasn't trying to be mean but rather lighten the mood.
"Stop calling me that!" Arthur slammed his fist on his knee.
Francis chuckled, then looked longingly at Canada and America. "Seeing them together brings back so many memories of when we were their age."
"You were always tormenting me." England remarked.
France turned back to England and grinned. "Remember that time when you were trying to imitate my hair style? You looked like a big fuzzy golden caterpillar!" France laughed. "Your hair was sticking out in every direction!"
"You're the one who made me change my hair style, saying having long hair was the new fashion!" England exclaimed.
"Yes, but I didn't expect you to change it. Your type of hair isn't meant to be long." France explained.
Suddenly they heard a quick yelp and then a sob. Francis and Arthur turned their attention back to the children. Canada looked like he had just fallen on his bottom. He was biting his lips so as to not cry but tears were flowing freely down his cheeks. America was standing in front of him, a ball in hand. He looked innocently at the adults.
"What happened?" France asked.
"He didn't want to give it back." America accused. "So I hit him. But it's his fault!"
France's eyes widened, and then he grew serious, giving America a stern look. "That wasn't very nice. Apologize to him right now."
America began to pout. "Why should I? And you can't tell me what to do."
Francis grew exasperated. He turned to Arthur. "Say something!"
Arthur was leaning on the sofa with his hands behind his head. "Why? He didn't do anything wrong. He needs to learn to defend himself. Canada is the one who needs to roughen up a bit."
France looked shocked, then he became furious. "America is hardly the one who needs defending! If you let him think you can solve problems with violence, imagine what he will become when he's older?!"
England also grew angry. "He's not stupid! He knows when to use violence and when not to. It's not like he's going to go around randomly killing people."
"Oh Really? When you two go hunting in the woods all you're doing is glorifying the act of killing. Teaching him that that's the way to get what you want." France argued.
England sneered. "It goes to prove how much or a coward you frogs are. You don't know anything about life. I'm teaching him the ways to victory; you don't get anything done with words. It's the action that counts. I'm teaching him to become a man. What you're doing is turning Canada into a helpless little girl."
France shot straight up, glaring at England. "How dare you say that?!"
England also got up. "Heh, what's wrong? Did I hit a soft spot?"
"Please! Please stop fighting!" Canada cried.
They both turned their heads towards him. He was standing with his arms outstretched.
"I-I'm fine…" He announced, with a small whimper, putting his hands down.
France's eyes softened. He crouched down and gently stroked Canada's head. "Does it hurt?"
"Non. I'm fine, really." Canada reassured, giving him a small smile.
France stud up and glared at England. "I believe it's time for us to leave." He picked up Canada and walked to the exit, without waiting for a reply, slamming the door behind him.
"Good riddance." England muttered under his breath. Although deep down there was this slight guilt forming into his chest. Had he gone too far? He thought. But he quickly pushed the feeling away. Francis is the one who provoked me.
He felt something tugging at his shirt and looked down. America was staring at him with curious, and a little confused, eyes.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Arthur kneeled down on one knee and patted him on the head.
"No, no, you didn't."
Lexicon: *"mon petit lapin" literally means "my little rabbit", but it's just an affectionate way of calling someone.