Don't own Axis Powers Hetalia
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Tantrum
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"…"
Sigh.
"…"
Sigh.
"…"
Sigh.
"…"
…Sigh.
"…"
Si-
"America, do me a favor and stop moping around in my house." said a very annoyed England. "If you insist on spreading your bloody depression, do it in somebody else's house."
America looked at England, and then sighed again, slumping even deeper into his seat. England's eye twitched at the sudden increase of gloom in the room, he pinched the bridge of his nose, and then, in a tired manner he asked:
"If you tell me what's wrong, will you leave?"
"…"
America nodded sullenly.
"Alright then, what in the world is bothering you this much?"
The depressed blonde sighed.
"… Philippines isn't listening to me anymore…"
England snorted.
"I wouldn't blame the boy," he said. "After all, you did shoot him while he was just crossing a bridge."
"It was an accident!" wailed America, startling the other country. "I gave him a warning not to cross the bridge!"
England thought about it for a moment.
"Were you sure that he actually heard you at that time?" he asked.
"Well, no. I didn't bother wondering, I said the warning a couple of times…"
"Did he actually understand you?"
America frowned, glaring at England.
"I taught him English! And he's doing pretty well-"
"He was also doing rather well in learning Spanish under Spain, and his own language, correction, dialects, and now he's learning English," England said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he got confused midway in a conversation."
He blinked; he did have a point there.
England shook his head at the idiot before him.
"But why in the bloody hell did you shoot him in the first place?"
America fidgeted.
"… Condition reflex." he replied quietly.
England raised one bushy eyebrow.
"…condition reflex?"
Nod.
"You shot a little boy," he said slowly. "… Because your hand pulled the trigger out of impulse?"
Nod.
"So it was just a misunderstanding?"
Nod.
"Which was entirely your fault?" England asked, sounding more like a statement than a question.
"Hey, he was the one who disobeyed my warning I-!"
"America, you're being childish," England scolded. "You're blaming your depression on a boy that got shot because of you, and is now not listening to you because you shot him in the first place."
America pouted.
"But-"
"No buts," England pushed America towards the door. "Now you're going to go and apologize to Philippines."
"Fine, but still-"
Slam!
England sighed in relief.
"Thank god! I thought he was never going to leave."
'Right, I guess I'll have to say sorry to him first!'
Keys… keys… Ah! There it is!
Click!
"Philippines! I'm back! And I got something to te-" America stopped at the sight of the what supposed to be the living room.
There was nothing in the room. No chairs, no sofas, no pictures, no carpets, no anything.
His left eye twitched.
The room was completely empty, with the exception of one of Philippines's favorite red bandannas nailed on the center wall, and that all sides, including the ceiling, was painted in red, blue, and yellow.
And on the floor was a big "KKK" painted in black.
His left eye twitched again.
England wouldn't mind if he disciplined Philippines this time, right?
Right, now where would the little brat hide...
For the "KKK" part, it has a different meaning for Philippines, and also has a different meaning for America. Uwah, another misunderstanding.