Chapter 1
A/N: So this is my first fanfiction for HETALIA. I just recently got into it, and I love it, I love the characters, and I love their personalities and differences.
This is more of a short story, only a few chapters, and kind of an experiment to see if I've got what it takes to write in this new category and to show what I have to offer. It also involves one or two of my favorite pairings.
I'm trying to think up of a new story to write, something longer and more serious, along the lines of a proper story.
So hope you like this new story, give me a review on what you think of it and what I can improve, I accept all feedback. Enjoy!
England stumbled into the room, completely wasted.
Damn them all. Today's meeting had probably been the worst since the last one before the second world war! The problem wasn't that French Frog, or even the loudmouthed America, for once.
First, Netherland had begun by announcing that his new recent trading deal with England was off. It would have profited them both, but he said he'd gotten a better deal from France.
Then, during the first break, Japan had spilled his boiling hot tea all over his suit. And while it had hurt, what was more of an issue was that it had been his favorite one, the one that he'd worn during his announcement of the end of world war two. And the little git had the audacity to laugh while he was yelling at him for it!
And to put the cherry on the cake, Russia then proceeded to taunt him during Germany's speech, throwing pencils and pens at his head. England then, already at his wit's end, proceeded to yell at the man, only to get berated by almost all the other nations in front of the entire council for it.
It had been mortifying. And even more infuriating as he watched Russia being comforted by many of the other countries. And that grin he'd shot at him was condescending as hell.
England had immediately made his way to the pub to try and forget the whole experience, but now he'd reached the end of his tether.
He grabbed the first book he found and flipped through it, finding the first spell that was deemed as a curse and grabbed samples of blood from another shelf. He'd kept the blood of every nation for just such an occasion.
He grabbed the ones of Netherland, Japan, and Russia, before grabbing more ingredients and making a potion, which he then poured into three separate jugs. He then proceeded to leak a single drop of each nation's blood into the jugs. They flashed and pulsed with a pink light.
England smiled to himself before taking the jars and tossing them into a chest, which he locked. He then threw the key over his shoulder as he stumbled out and made his way to his bed, where he fell into a drunken sleep.
Netherland sighed as he buttoned up his shirt and crawled under the covers of his bed. He felt slightly bad that he had to retract his trade deal with England, but business was business. And while England's long-distance reach and influence were beneficial, France's offers of cut costs on the transport of his products was too good of an opportunity to pass upon.
He yawned and scratched his pet rabbit's ears absentmindedly. It hadn't been a very good day for the old nation. He did hope that England didn't take it personally.
He closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.
Japan chuckled to himself as he stepped from the outdoor spring in his garden and sat on the bench nearby.
England's face had been so funny when he'd spilled his tea on his pants. He did really feel bad about it, but when England's face scrunched up and he started screaming at him with so many English expletives, he couldn't bring himself to be serious in his apology.
He hoped that he didn't take it personally. Japan rarely showed emotion, so the little incident still played out in his head for a while.
He stretched and looked up at the stars, and decided he'd like to sleep there on the bench. The steam gave enough heat to keep him comfortable, and he was already tired.
He laid back down and closed his eyes, still smiling from England's funny face in his mind.
Russia wrapped the scarf around his neck as he laid down on his bed. He looked to the side and saw himself in a mirror. His purple eyes looked down to see a very wide smile on his face.
Why?
Because so many of the other nations had stood up for him today.
Prussia was sitting next to him and was throwing stuff at England during the meeting, and while Russia didn't notice at first, he did when England yelled at him for thinking it was him who was throwing all the pencils at his head.
Russia tried to deny it, but China and Belarus had immediately started scolding England, and the other nations started siding with him and saying it was Prussia. Having everyone stick up for him was a truly wonderful feeling for him, but he made sure to let England know he sorry by sending an apologetic smile his way.
He smiled as he pulled up the blankets of his bed and closed his eyes, his scarf still wrapped firmly around his neck.
When Netherlands pushed himself up off the bed, the first thing he realized was that something was wrong.
Since when had his hair been so long?
He pushed it across from his face and realized his hands were smaller and more slender than normal. Then he saw that his chest was larger too.
"What is…" He pushed himself up, still half asleep, and pushed his way into the bathroom, before staring at the mirror.
A tall woman wearing an orange shirt with long brown-blond hair and green eyes stared back.
He screamed.
Japan opened his eyes as the glare of the sun shone down on his face. He moaned as he sat up, remembering why he didn't like sleeping outside. The sun was always an alarm clock.
As he sat up, he realized his chest felt… heavy. And as he looked down, his hair fell forwards over his shoulders.
His eyes widened and cheeks burned as he looked down at his body, before he pushed himself up from the bench and sprinted for the hot spring, staring at his reflection. A girl with long black hair and black eyes, with a towel wrapped around her waist, stared back.
Japan screamed.
Russia sat up and stumbled across the room, stumbling into the bathroom and splashing water on his face to wake himself up. He then walked over to his dressing room table and started looking over the files he'd have to share during the meeting today.
He looked up and froze.
He blinked and placed his hand on the mirror in front of him, before looking at it. He then pinched himself on the arm and winced, before looking back up. He then ran to the window, flung it open so the light lit up the room, then ran back to the mirror.
An extremely tall woman wearing a white scarf with long white hair and purple eyes stared back.
Russia allowed himself to scream. Just this once.
England jerked awake, and immediately clutched his head and moaned.
Bloody hangovers.
He reached to the desk drawer next to him and tried to grab for an aspirin.
"Here."
He looked up and smiled as a fairy tossed him one. "Thank you. So what happened to me last night?"
"You cursed a few people." He replied matter-of-factly, letting himself stand on the desk nearby.
"I see." He swallowed the pill before sipping water from a glass. He then spat out the liquid across his bed. "WHAT?!"
"Yeah, you did." The fairy smiled and crossed his arms. "I think you messed up."
England pushed himself off the bed and sprinted down the corridor, running into the room before reading the open page. "Bollocks! Where are the jars?!"
The fairy shrugged. "You closed the door after you came in, and we didn't want to distract you."
Damn and blast! England started frantically searching through the messy room, and he wished he'd organized it. After fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, he collapsed to the floor.
"Oh gods…" he wheezed. "I am in such a ruddy pickle, aren't I?"
"Yep." The fairy nodded. "You are."
