Hello! I finally have a new story!
I hope you enjoy reading it.
I was really bored the other day, and wanted to write something with Hetalia. And before I knew it, this came along.
I intend to add on to it, but if not, then this is all. If enough people ask, I will write a second chapter!
Please enjoy, and review!
Eyes.
Ten pairs stared at him, but Alfred could only see the owners of five.
The other five were behind a one way mirror, more than likely.
As far as he knew, Alfred was in some kind of room in a federal building close to the White House.
To his right was the mirror. Stretched out in front of him was a handsome oak table.
Four men and a woman sat at the table, two had laptops, Alfred guessed they were the fastest typers, and the other three had legal pads.
"What is your name?" A man with pale grey hair, and wearing a deep grey suite asked. "Alfred F. Jones." he replied, and brushed a strand of blond hair from his ocean blue eyes.
"What is your real name?"
There was a pause.
"The United States Of America." Alfred replied, taking a deep breath. He heard the clacking of keys as the two, a man with brown hair, and a young woman with cherry red, began to type.
"Are you human?"
"In mind, yes. I am." Again…more questions. The Grey man gave him a stern look.
"Answer the question, Alfred. Are you human?"
Alfred shook his head.
"No."
"What, then, are you?"
Alfred took a second to glance around at the people typing and taking notes. He really hated interrogations like this. All he wanted to do was see the President, instead, some secret service guys whisk him away into some tiny room, to be asked questions. Alfred had been told, over the phone, just moments earlier by the President, to answer the questions carefully. He'd been told that he'd find out why soon enough.
"I am a Nation. The Nation of America, the spirit, technically."
"Spirit?"
Alfred sighed. He hated explaining this to people. His boss was one things, politicians, too, but these people, another.
"Look, I'll explain the best I can. I am a living embodiment of the United States. That's all there is to it. I don't know why I'm here, other than to guide my country, and keep it safe."
"But, you do not actually run the country yourself? The President does."
Alfred nodded. "He is my 'boss'. I take orders, and I help him in any way I can."
"How old are you?"
Alfred closed his eyes. "Honestly, I don't know. I was never 'born'"
"Can you elaborate?"
His eyes snapped open. "I was…formed. If there ever was a nation before me, and he or she was killed….I was reincarnated. I 'appeared' and another nation raised me, just like everyone else."
"So, there are other beings like you? Other…'Nations'?" He asked, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, as if the thought of Nations existing as people disturbed him.
"Yes. One for every Country. I am but one example."
"Can you name a few other Nations?"
Immediately Alfred shook his head. "I will not in consent, answer that. I can tell you their True names, but not their human names, if that's what you're asking. But, there are other Nations such as Canada, United Kingdom, and Russia."
There were glances all around the room. Most expressions were troubled.
The woman with cherry red hair looked at him.
"We've been told that you meet with these other Nations on a regular basis, and that you spend time with quite a few of them. True?"
Alfred placed his hands on the table, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers.
"I do."
"Where do you meet?" She asked.
"Nice try, can't tell you."
A slight red tint came onto her face. "You didn't answer my question." She asked. "You were given orders to answer every question, and already, you have only partly answered one, and now, you have completely ignored a second."
The blond set her with a glare. "Look. It's not up to the President to decide what I tell you right now, at this moment. I know that he ordered me to answer, but there are some things as a Nation I just can't tell you! And I know the others would do the same for me, damnit!"
They stared long and hard at each other for a while. Alfred's eyes blazed, the color churning like waves of the ocean, and the woman's was cold, hard. Soon, she glanced away.
"You said earlier that you were raised by another Nation." The Grey man took over, changing the subject slightly.
"Yes."
"Which one?"
"England."
The guy was silent for a while, as he read some things off of his own legal pad. Alfred shifted slightly, then reached out, and grabbed a glass of water sitting in front of him, and drank about half the glass.
After setting it back down, he noticed The Grey man had been watching him steadily.
"Even though you aren't human, you eat, and sleep, like all of us?" Alfred, for the first time since he came here, smiled. "You bet."
"And you eat regular food?"
Alfred gave him a well-duh-look. "Tch, yeah. Hell, cheeseburgers are the best damn things I ever ate!"
Dumbfounded by the answer, the Grey Man shook his head.
Cherry red took over quickly.
"Our sources say that when things happen in the Country, you are physically affected. Such as, when the economy is bad, or when large numbers of people die at once, you feel pain."
Alfred nodded. "Body pain. It happens to every one of us. Going through recessions gives us colds." he said, laughing.
"Describe what you feel when you have body pain."
Alfred rolled his eyes. He could feel his stomach growl. God, he wanted a cheeseburger.
"Just, y'know, pain. In my chest, my head, everywhere. If my economy is slightly bad, I have a constant pain. Like right now, there's a small, constant pain in my chest."
More notes were taken.
"What about physical harm? How does that happen?"
"I suffer physical harm like anyone else. I can cut my finger while slicing an apple, or get my leg broken by falling down a flight of stairs." already, he didn't like where this was going.
"And how fast do you heal?"
"Hmm?"
"Our res-"
"Resources, right. Hmph. Nations heal at a slightly faster rate than our civilians."
"Civilians?"
"Oh, that's what the Nations call their people. Civilians, Citizens."
"Back to the original question."
"Right. If you broke your leg, it's probably take about eight weeks to heal. Where it's more like three and a half for me. If I cut my finger, it's gone over night."
"Do you age?"
"Yes."
"How so?"
"I don't age like you. I will remain like I am in my current state…for as long as I live. I appear to be as an adult, because I grew more powerful, my land increased, I am no longer suppressed by England, and…I've gained a considerable amount of allies.
Eyes were wide all around. No one seemed to want to believe what they were hearing. Alfred shifted in his seat again, beginning to get uncomfortable after sitting still for so long. Which is why he always seemed to be standing and pacing during World Meetings.
The delegates(That's what they probably were, as far as he could assume), were quiet for a long time, each thinking, going over their notes.
"How does a Nation die?"
Here it is. Shit.
"I can't tell you."
The woman glowered at him, and Alfred gave her his best. Although he could never glare as well as Ivan, he could certainly try.
"Why not? We need to know this, Alfred."
"Hehe. You're not gettin' anything' outta me. I am keeping my trap shut, thank-you-very-much." Alfred replied.
"Alfred, we need this information. You have to answer it, as directed by the President of The United States."
The nation just leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs. "Sorry. But no." He said frankly. There was no way they would get the information out of him. If Alfred were to reveal it, he may as well just up and kill himself. He couldn't endanger his friends this way. Hell, he knew Ivan wouldn't even tell anyone. The Nation may be a bastard, but he wasn't that bad. Alfred sat back in his seat, arms crossed in defiance. The color of his eyes were no longer ocean blue. They were dark, like a storm.
They'd just have to find out for themselves. And Alfred hoped that day wouldn't come.