Humming to himself in wondrous merriment, the largest nation in the world strode down the corridor, his usual smile plastered on his cherub-like face and his long, pinkish scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. He was very happy today, because today he could reveal his true intentions with Ukraine to his very best friends. He was slightly sad and disappointed to see that they all thought that he was up to something nefarious, but he would soon set their minds on the correct path.
Reaching his destination, Russia came to a single door. He outstretched his large hand and twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open. He ducked his head down and stepped inside, his smile widening tenfold as his eyes beheld the sight that welcomed him. The meeting room was in complete and utter chaos. It seemed that everyone was acting like their usual selves, and nothing seemed out of the norm. The Slavic nation remarked this with a small smile. He watched the scene in front of him unfold with twinkling eyes. Japan was stoic and catatonic, although he did occasionally interrupt someone else to add his own input (same old Japan), America was acting like a complete and utter glutinous buffoon (ha ha what an imbecile), France and England were brawling (nothing new here), Italy was clinging to Germany's arm, crying and begging for Germany to let him leave and make pasta (he actually looked cute... perhaps he'd like to become one with Russia?) and Germany was trying to brush Italy off him, visibly struggling to control his temper (he needed to get some serious anger management). Russia counted six of the G8 members, but where was China?
"Привет, товарищи!" he greeted.
Just as soon as those two, little words had spilled out of his mouth, the entire room halted what they were doing immediately and froze. Russia's smile faltered ever-so-slightly. He knew that he was intimidating and scared many countries, but why did they all seem so surprised to hear his voice?
"...Hello?" Russia gazed at them through mock-concerned eyes, "Why is everyone staring?"
No answer. Russia thought he saw a little twitch, but dismissed it with a sigh.
"Does anyone happen to be knowing vher China is today?"
England recovered from his shock first. His caterpillar-like bushy eyebrows creased into a frown and his poisonous emerald eyes glared at Russia, "What are you doing here?" he demanded harshly.
It was Russia's turn to frown, "I am here for meeting. That is why we are all here, да?"
Whispers seemed to fly around the room at his answer.
"Is 'e serious?"
"Don't terr me he doesn't know."
"Did someone even tell him?"
"It was your job to tell him!"
"Are you serious? You vorgot to tell him?"
"Well... I left a note-"
"Unbelievable."
While his fellow countries conversed (*cough*argued*cough*), America regarded his nemesis with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Did you not get the memo?"
"Memo...?"
America grinned, "Oh boy." he turned to face the other countries, an exuberant expression settling in on his face, "He don't know he got the boot!"
Russia stared at him quizzically while England shot him a death squint and corrected, "Doesn't."
America rolled his eyes in response, muttering something about 'grammar Nazis'.
"You rearry don't know?" Japan questioned, an indifferent look plastered upon his pale face.
Russia smiled at him innocently, "Don't know what, товарищ?"
France smoothed out his richly-coloured dress shirt to make himself look all prim and proper before clearing his throat, "If 'e really doesn't know, we should tell 'im now. Save us ze trouble of explaining later."
"We have no choice," Germany agreed, setting his stony ice-cold gaze on the largest nation in the world, "I don't believe a vormal explanation is needed, so I'll just tell you in the simplest way possible-"
"No!" America protested, "Let me be the one to tell him!" his eyes shone brightly like the stars in the sky, his expression the exact replica of that of a child on Christmas morning. Yet behind the look of pure ebullience that graced the North American's face, Russia could see the sadistic intent lurking in those sparkling eyes.
"Fine. Just get it over with already." Germany permitted with a sigh, a cross look etched upon his face.
America sat up straight, donning a serious expression. He cleared his throat and stared pointedly up at the taller nation. "Russia, we've decided to ditch you and your commie ways and kick you out of the G8. Your violent manne- ma- mannerisismasnis- mann-"
"Mannerisms." England supplied, a cocked eyebrow in place.
America rolled his eyes, "I knew that! Anyway, your violent mannerisms are unacceptable, and the way you've been treating Ukraine is appiling-"
"Appalling." England corrected, bristling.
"- appalling, and we can't allow it to continue," America paused for a moment, as if he was actually thinking about something (which was a very rare thing indeed), before loudly exclaiming, "Oh my God, I sound just like Britain!"
England spluttered, "W-what?"
"Whoa, dude, you need to clean your ears out! I said I sounded just like you. Did you hear that? I sounded like you!"
England ignored the quip about his hearing, "You sound nothing like me!"
"Yeah, I did! Like when you tell people they can't do this and that, in that kind of professor-voice thing-"
"What professor-voice?"
"You know, when you tell scold someone or something and then you sound like some uptight professor-"
"What nonsense."
"You know what I mean! Like when you all pissy and shit- France, you know what I'm saying, right?"
"Oh, absolutely." France smirked.
England muttered dryly, "Utter poppycock."
"Utta-whatnow?" America scrunched his nose up in confusion, "I don't know what you just said, but everyone here can vouch for me when I say that you get this uptight, prissy, high-pitched tone when you're telling someone what to do," ignoring England's indignant sputter, America called out, "Hey, Japan!"
The Asian appeared startled at being dragged into this inane conversation.
"You agree with me, right?"
Japan looked uncomfortable, keeping eerily still as he responded, "It is not my place to say."
America seemed disappointed by that answer, "Come on, that's bull and you know it. There's nothing wrong with agreeing with the best country in the world. It's okay if you admit it," at Japan's silence, America continued, "Just say you agre-"
"Oh, leave him alone, won't you?" England snapped.
"What? I'm not bothering him!"
"You clearly are!"
Germany cleared his throat rather pointedly upon seeing Russia's amused expression, "It would be much appreciated if you got on with it, America."
America turned confused eyes on the Germanic, "Huh? Got on what?"
A loud smack created by England's face-palm echoed around the room as the nation grit out, reigning in his mounting frustration, "Just tell Russia why he's no longer in the G8, America."
"Tell Russ-" America's eyes lit up with understanding, "Oh! I need to tell Russia why he's kicked out! Right," ignoring the incredulous looks thrown his way, America stared at Russia and informed, "So yeah, what we're basically saying is you're evil and the G8 is no place for socialists."
France coughed meaningfully.
"I mean communists." America rectified hastily.
The Slavic nation blinked, processing all the information his mind had gathered, "I beg your pardon?"
"'Eet's nothing personal," France drawled lazily, ignoring the combined looks of annoyance from America and England which suggested that yes, it was in fact very personal, "But because of your actions regarding Ukraine, we've decided zat you can no longer be a part of the G8."
"One of the main goals of the G8 is to prevent violence, not be the cause of it." England reminded with a dark look.
Russia's smile seemed to harden, "I see."
"You have refused to respond to our sanctions in the correct manner and have caused needress upset to Ukraine. This is unacceptabre." Japan explained.
Russia shot curious eyes his way, "My dear Japan, I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about. I have not hurt Ukraine."
"Ha!" America whipped out his index finger and pointed it at Russia, the accusation clear in his baby-blue eyes, "You killed your own people, you ego-frenzied maniac! Like we'd ever believe that you wouldn't do anything to hurt Ukraine!"
Russia's eyebrow shot up, "You've killed your own people, too." before America could retort, Russia continued, "Besides, do you really believe that I would harm my own sister?"
America's arms flew up in the air, "Of course!"
Russia's smile grew exponentially wider.
"I suggest you leave now." England scowled at Russia, clearly uncomfortable with the looming aura emitting from the large nation. But the ex-Soviet country was not about to let himself be dismissed so easily.
"Where is China?" he abruptly changed the subject.
"China is not part of the G8." Germany stated, his eyes narrowing.
"For good reason, too." Japan muttered under his breath.
"Oh?" Russia reacted with surprise, "Then who is missing?"
"No one." America answered immediately.
"But there are only six of you," Russia smiled, "and one of me. This is the G8, da? Who is the final member, if not China?"
As if to answer Russia's question, a quiet voice breathed, "I'm right here."
France's eyes widened, England's bushy eyebrows shot up, Japan didn't react, Germany gritted his teeth, Russia smiled, and America and Italy both screamed.
"W-what is that?" Italy asked, his voice quaking as he spoke.
"I think it's a ghost." America replied with equally as much horror.
"A g-ghost?" Italy choked out, "I don't like-a ghosts!" he sobbed.
"Zuck it up, it'z not a ghost." Germany barked.
"What is it, t-then?" Italy questioned, his lips quivering.
"My guess is an un-dead spirit got lost and somehow wound its way here... maybe the ghost of a long-deceased nation- in which case yes, it is indeed a ghost. In any case, it'll probably kill us all the first chance it gets." England mused, although he too looked quite perturbed. This, if anything, made Italy even more terrified and the little nation screeched in terror.
"SHUT UP, ITALY!"
Italy shook his head frantically, "I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I-"
"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DIE! VE'RE COUNTRIES, VE CANNOT DIE, IT IZ PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE-!"
Italy's bottom lip trembled, "But Grandpa Roma died, and now a ghost-a wants to kill us-"
"I'm not a ghost." the voice murmured, coming from behind America. This caused the North American nation to release a shrill shriek.
England's jaw dropped, "I don't believe it!" he exclaimed, looking from America to the thing behind him, "It's another you!"
"Amerika has twin?" Russia pondered aloud.
"It must be crone..." Japan muttered, his eyes squinting in thought.
"Don't be ridikulous," France rolled his eyes, "It iz obviously Ka- Ca- Can- er," France frowned, "Canuckland?"
"Zar is no such place." Germany stated, his pointed gaze fixed on America's look-a-like.
"I'm Canada." the look-a-like announced.
"Cana-who?" every nation in the room questioned simultaneously. The corners of Canada's lips tugged upwards to form a meek smile.
"Canada. I'm a member of the G8-"
"I doubt it. I, too, am member and have never seen you before." Russia voiced his thoughts. This caused every nation in the room (with the exception of Italy and Canada) to turn around and throw him a vicious glare.
"You're not a member!" America protested vehemently.
Russia sighed, his childish face looking almost hurt, "Here I was thinking that you had stopped this little charade and we were going to commence meeting now."
"This is not a charade, Russia!" England yelled, his face colouring to a deep burgundy red, "We meant what we said when we told you you're out!"
"As we said, your actions regarding Ukraine are unacceptable. Consider yourself excommunicated." Germany declared.
"If you don't stop what you're doing, you'll face even more sanctions." France added.
"How anyone could-a be so cruel to their own-a sister..." Italy shook his head sadly. Despite what it may have looked from the outside, the words delivered a pang of pain to Russia's ice-cold heart.
"But I am not doing anything," Russia defended, "Ukraine is doing this to herself."
This statement was met with shocked expressions.
"How dare you!" America exploded.
"Rearry, Rosia, that is just row..."
"You cause all this pain to her and yet you have the audacity to claim that this is a situation of self-harm?" England seethed.
Germany clenched his jaw, "Zickening."
"Deesgusting." France grimaced.
"Why? It is truth," Russia claimed, casually ignoring the glares he received, "Western propaganda is just brainwashing you."
"Ironic, coming from you." England quipped.
"What the fuck is 'brainwashing'? You can't wash a brain, you moron!" America hollered, then paused as if he seemed to contemplate something. "Can you?"
Germany's eyes narrowed into slits, "Enough of this. Russia, as we've already established, you are no longer a part of the G8. I'm going to have to ask you to leave immediately."
Russia beamed, "OK."
Everyone waited for the giant to move, but he just stood there, his smile threatening to split his face in half.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" England demanded, "Get out!"
"I will."
A few seconds passed before America couldn't take anymore, "Oh, let's just kick him out already."
"Russia, zis iz your last warning." France warned. The Slavic nation didn't react at all.
"Okay, that's it!" America rushed forwards and pushed Russia towards the door. Russia was about to dig his heels into the floor, but seemed to think better of it, allowing America to push him towards the exit. He thought it rather amusing. "God damn, you're so heavy!" America panted a few paces away from the door. He looked to his fellow G8 members, "What are you guys doing? Get your butts over here and help me kick this lug out!"
"Oh, would you look at that? The great and powerful United States of America needs our help." England smirked.
"I wonder why our hero is asking us 'weaklings' for help trying to complete a simple task." France mused mockingly.
"It must-a mean he is not-a strong enough!" Italy joined in, smiling at the smug faces of practically everyone in the room.
"Hey, you guys have no idea how heavy this dude is." America said defensively. After much persuasion, America was able to convince a few of the other members to help him out.
"Damn it," England wheezed as he used all the strength he could muster to push Russia out, "He can't fit through the blasted door!"
"This is very amusing, да?" Russia smiled innocently. The filthy looks he received would make anyone shudder (well... except for Russia).
"Merde!" France swore when he accidentally twisted his arm while trying to shove the Slavic nation out, "You're so fat!"
"Fat?" Russia echoed and France immediately realised his mistake. A shiver ran down his spine at the menacing aura that seemed to emanate from the ex-Soviet nation. England, who was right next to France, quickly averted his eyes, trying desperately not to show the slight flicker of fear that he felt at that moment. Germany kept his face expressionless, not reacting to the change in Russia's demeanour (at least, not visibly), instead seizing the opportunity to heave Russia out of the room in his short-lived surprise. America, upon seeing Germany push Russia, immediately rushed to his aid while keeping a wary eye on his nemesis.
Their unspoken plan to push Russia out while he had his sights set on France failed miserably. They managed to make him stumble over his feet a bit, only for his face to collide with the hinge at the top of the door. The Russian Federation turned slowly on the spot and the ones who had tried to push him out found themselves oddly dreading what he would do. Instead of doing anything particularly menacing, however, the former Soviet merely plastered his trademark smile on his face.
"That was fun," he grinned, "Now let's start the meeting."
"How many times must we terr you?" Japan exclaimed snappishly, his mask of indifference never once leaving his face (even though the tone of his voice told another story). "You are no ronger a part of the G8!"
"If you do not leave willingly," Germany fixed Russia with a hard look, "you will face more sanctions than you can imagine."
To everyone's surprise, Russia giggled, "Ufufufu~! You're all so very funny!"
Everyone stared at him incredulously, some in frustrated exasperation. What did they need to say to get it through Russia's head that he was no longer welcome here?
"This isn't a joke, comrade." America sneered, all traces of amusement momentarily wiped from his face, "Leave now."
"Ah, Amerika, you are the funniest of all!"
The excruciatingly intense glare that America sent Russia could ignite even the darkest of souls and set them aflame. Too bad Russia didn't have one.
England loured at him, "Just get the bloody fuck out, Russia."
Germany bristled at the British nation's uncouthness, which was certainly not befitting in their current habitat, however he made no comment as everyone seemed to share the green-eyed nation's sentiments.
"For once, I agree with ze rosbif." France seconded, his usually light and teasing expression completely serious as he fixed Russia with a glare.
Russia merely cocked an amused eyebrow, eyeing the nations around him, before deflating a little when they gave no indication that this was all just some big, elaborate prank, "You... are not joking?"
England practically exploded at this point, "NO! Good God, no! That's what we've been trying to tell you!"
"You really want me gone?"
"YES!" almost everyone yelled, with the exception of Italy, Japan and what's-his-face.
Russia regarded them sadly, his lips puckering to form a little pout, "But why?"
America's eye twitched behind his rimless eyeglasses, "Why?"
"Why?" England resonated, mimicking the action.
"Why?" France echoed, his voice taking on an incredulous tone.
Japan blankly followed suit, "Why?"
"Why?"
"Why?"
A voice breathed, "Wh-?"
"Yes, why?" Russia questioned curiously, tilting his head to the side and gazing at them through wide, violet eyes. His question was met with complete and utter silence. The other countries all seemed to share a glance- as if each of them were thinking of the same thing- before bobbing their heads in an eerily simultaneous movement and looking back at the largest nation.
Then, without any warning, they all advanced on him, pouncing on Russia and shoving him back towards the exit. Before Russia could inquire as to what they thought they were doing, he was met with the sight of the suddenly unwelcoming door. Russia's head hit the top of the door (again), his hard forehead ricocheting off the hinge.
"Vee~, are you okay?" Italy asked, barely keeping the concern out of his voice. Russia threw him a a large smile, his eyes glinting menacingly. It was all that was needed to get the little nation to race off to the other side of the room, diving under the table with an undignified shriek.
"ITALY!" barked Germany, "Get back here!"
Italy shook his head, burying his face in his arms as he trembled, whimpering as he did so.
"Nevermind him, just keep pushing!" England urged impatiently, noticing that Germany had slackened his grip on the Slavic.
"Ow... ow... ow..." Russia kept repeating monotonously as his forehead was repeatedly met with the hinge, his fellow nations continuing to push him towards the door, Russia struggling to dig his heels into the floor.
"We have to get him to... duck his head." France groaned out, pushing with all his might.
"I hate to say it, but he's right!" England admitted, ignoring the gaping looks that were thrown his way, "We won't be getting far if we don't knock him down a few pegs... literally."
"Alright-y, then! Everyone, follow my lead! After me! One, two-" America exclaimed in excitement, "Three! Let's do this!"
France suddenly stopped pushing, followed by England, before Japan and Germany stopped too. Russia didn't bother to stifle his amused chuckles as America turned to face them in confusion, "...What? Was it something I said?"
France crossed his arms over his chest, "Let's get one zing straight, America. We are not your minions, nor are we your slaves."
"...Huh?"
England mirrored France's action, his eyebrows furrowing together, "That's right. We're not nations that you can just boss around. We aren't your colonies."
"And you are not our leader, America-san."
Germany didn't say anything, but it was clear that he felt the same way.
"I... never said I was." America frowned in confusion, his usually loud and boisterous voice faltering slightly with each word.
"Oh, bollocks!" England sneered, "We're not idiots; we know what you think of us."
"You think you can boss me around? Please." France snorted derisively.
"I... I wasn't-"
"With arr due respect, America-san, we arr saw you trying to take charge a whire ago. Terring us what to do. You must rearise that we are not your puppets."
"I don't understand," America's frown deepened, "We were just trying to shove the commie bastard out... right?"
"Yes, we were, but then you just had to use that whole 'follow my lead' garbage. We are living, sentient nations and we don't appreciate you telling us what to do!" England snapped, "We can make our own decisions!"
"I never said you couldn't. I just- I know you got my back, guys." Not that I actually need your help, he silently added but for once wisely held his tongue.
England gasped, completely mortified, "Are you calling me your bitch?"
France exclaimed in horror, "Bitch? You think me a bitch?! I have lost what leetle respect I had for you, Amerique."
"I can't berieve I carred you my friend..."
"Is that what you see us as, America?" Germany demanded, "We are your bitches, and you are our pimp, is that it?"
"I never called you guys my bitches!" America stated hurriedly, holding his arms up in a placating manner, "I just meant you guys are like friends, that's all."
"More like tools." France harrumphed as England glared coldly.
"Do you really think we're gullible enough to buy that?"
America frowned, "To... buy what?"
Before all hell could break loose, a dark, deep chuckle could be heard, resonating across the room, its source of origin being none other than Russia.
"What are you laughing at?" Germany queried suspiciously.
"It is so amusing seeing you all argue for the sake of it." Russia snickered, "Completely forgetting about me. Your supposed 'enemy'. It is no wonder the only one who ever did any work was myself. You really can't get anything done, can you?"
No one replied, but everyone glared.
"Fine, I will leave the G8. After all, why should I bother myself with allies that will stab me in the back at any given moment? No, I have no need of you and your little tea-party club," Russia's eyes twinkled with mirth, "Why did I ever join? You never get anything accomplished anyway."
Although the others tried not to show it, the truth of those words seemed like a slap in the face to all of them.
"До свидания, бывшие товарищи." Russia turned to leave, his eyes still fixed on his fellow countries, only for him to walk right into the door hinge. He groaned, lowering his head and rubbing it slightly with the palm of his large hand. Had the doorway always been that small? Russia could have sworn that it was bigger when he'd first come in. he gave his former G8 (or G7, he supposed, even though there was already one of those) members a wide, creepy smile, taking pleasure in their simultaneous shivers before leaving, feigning happiness when all he really felt at the moment was pain.
The other countries watched as Russia left in silence. They waited for a few moments before pointing at each other soundlessly, each telling someone to go check that Russia was gone.
"You go." England mouthed at America. America, who had never been good at lip reading, ignored him, his outstretched index finger stabbing at the doorway indignantly. He clearly wanted someone else to do it. England turned to Germany, who shook his head. Japan evidently didn't want to do it. Italy was out of the question. Slowly, England turned to France, inclining his head in the direction of the doorway. France clearly got the message, but still wanted to be a dick about it. He mouthed 'What?', counterfeiting ignorance.
"G-O!" England wordlessly sounded out, jerking his thumb towards the doorway. France tilted his head to the side, shrugging.
"Go check!" England mouthed slowly, annoyance written all over his features.
"Why should I?" France inquired aloud, his face contorting into something indistinguishable.
"Shhhhh!" America shushed desperately, looking oddly panicked. Germany frowned and Japan pretended not to notice it.
England hissed, "Keep it down, you bloody wanker!"
"Perhaps you should do it yourself, England?" Germany suggested before France or America could retort (neither knew who England had directed his insult at). England, looking more than a little peeved that Germany hadn't been quiet enough with his suggestion, stared back at the doorway. If no one else was going to do it, he might as well. Biting back a sigh, England began to creep up to the door like a professional spy, peering past the doorway to check that Russia was really gone. once he was certain that the corridor was clear, he gave the others the thumbs up, and everyone released a breath that none of them had known they'd been holding.
"Phew! Finally got rid of him!"
"I wonder what his next move wirr be?" Japan pondered.
"Do not worry; I am certain that the sanctions will work."
"Oh?" England queried, locking eyes with Germany, "How can you be sure?"
"Because not even someone as stubborn as Russia would be foolish enough to tempt us."
"Yeah! If push comes to shove, we'll shove with all we've got!" America declared, grinning widely.
"Yes, because we all know how that worked out." England commented sardonically. They remained in silence for the briefest of moments.
"Well, sharr we continue the meeting?" Japan proposed.
Germany sighed, "I think we've wasted enough time. As much as I hate to admit it, Russia had a point; we haven't really accomplished anything in a while. To be honest, I am getting a migraine from this whole mess. I think I might take Italy's advice for once and take a nap. I believe it's safe to say that the meeting can be adjourned. However, this is only a one-time occurrence. We will continue this tomorrow."
America released a loud whoop of joy and England agreed, "That's a wise decision, Germany. I think we all agree with you. This has been a tiring day."
"We've onry spent forty-five minutes." Japan pointed out.
"It's been ze longest forty-five minutes I've ever experienced for quite some time." France admitted, to which everyone grunted in agreement. They soon gathered their things and got ready to go, England slightly curious about something.
"What about Italy?" he asked when everyone was ready to leave. The little pasta-lover was still cowering under the large, seated in the centre of the room.
"He'rr be fine." Japan assured nonchalantly.
"Are you sure?"
"ITALY!" Germany yelled, to which Italy whimpered. Germany turned back to England, "He will be fine."
England still looked concerned, however he didn't comment as they all walked out of the meeting room.
On their way down, America was suddenly reminded of something, "Remember what Russia said? About the G8 being a tea-party club?"
"What of it?"
"Well, I just think he's gotta be insane. I mean, if anything, the G8 should be a fast-food club!"
"Oh, please, the only one that even likes zat deesgusting crap is you!" France rolled his eyes, before smirking, a cruel glint in his cerulean eyes, "And it certainly shows."
America's smile was completely wiped off his face, a worried look in its place, "W-what do you mean, France?"
"What he means, you idiot," England leered, "is that you're fat."
America blanched, "F-fat?"
"Did I stutter?"
And so started another argument, the little Latin nation and America's look-a-like long forgotten.
The End.
A/N: Yeah, this was kind of random. Hope you could understand it though (mainly what Japan was saying- I replaced all the 'l's with 'r's for that 'Engrish' accent). This one-shot was meant to be cracky, but I don't know. I'm not that good at humour (although I love to write it). I hope it was good enough, though, and really hope that nobody was offended (too late now though, eh?). This is supposed to be about the whole Russia-got-kicked-out-of-the-G8-because-of-the-Ukrainian-crisis thing, and it was really just a nonsensical one-shot that popped into my mind one evening. This was definitely OOC, especially the random switching-subjects thing, but I guess that's kind of the point. Reviews are much appreciated! Have a nice Guy Fawkes' Day to all that celebrate it and to all that don't!
Translations:
Привет, товарищи- Hello, comrades
товарищ- Comrade
До свидания, бывшие товарищи- Farewell, former comrades
да- Yes
Merde- Shit
Sorry if any of the translations are wrong :P. Thanks for reading!