"Uhh…"
Ludwig stood at the door of his brother's room. Gilbert had gone out to replace the food he'd wasted trying to beat Spain in an eating contest, so the German had decided to clean his brother's room. While the Prussian had never been the neatest person, it seemed as if his room drew in messes from other rooms. The bed was a nightmare, there were empty ice cream cartons everywhere, and Gilbert's pet bird had somehow gotten out of his cage, and was sitting on a dresser. It was too much for the organized, super-tidy younger brother to take.
"Right, first things first," Ludwig muttered, picking his way over to the book case. "I'd better get this little guy back in his cage." Gently, Ludwig picked up the small yellow bird off of the open book it was sitting on. The German absently patted the bird's head as he put it back in its cage. He turned back to the dresser for a second look.
"Hmm?" He picked up the book, reading the bold title aloud. "The diary of the awesome me, volume 17XX…" After looking back at the door, Ludwig turned the book back over to read the open page.
The XXth of XXXXXXX.
Dear Diary,
I was so cool today. The chain letter I-
"Germany! Germany! Help me!"
Ludwig slapped the book shut, throwing it back into the dresser as he turned. Standing in the door way was Feliciano, the Italian who was at the same time his best friend, and his worst enemy. "Wh-what is it now, Italy?" he asked, bracing himself for the newest inane task.
"I can't find my special pasta plate anywhere!" Feliciano was almost in tears, his arms flailing. "What do we do? What do we doooooo~?"
Ludwig sighed. He had cleaned all of Italy's dishes the other day. Knowing how careless he was, it was probably the last place Italy would look—which was also the first place anyone else would look. "Did you look in the cabinet where it should be?"
Italy stopped, his arms in mid flail. "Ah. I didn't look there yet. Thanks Germany!" With that, he ran off, his arms still outstretched.
The German leaned out the door. "Wait! Next time use the phone instead of running all the way over here!" It didn't matter; Feliciano was already gone. Ludwig felt the beginnings of a stomach ache, but pushed the thought from his mind as he returned to his brother's diary. This time, he cleared a space on the bed to sit on, so he could watch the door for Italy's return.
I was so cool today. The chain letter I sent to Spain and France seems to be working already. I haven't been plagued by any spirits all day. I haven't even heard from that jerk Russia!
Oh yeah, and America called. He said that he bought a new horror movie, and he needed someone to watch it with. Of course, no horror film could ever scare the awesomeness of me, the great Prussia. I'll probably go over to his house sometime this week.
Ludwig made a mental note to set up the spare bed in his room. The last time Gilbert had watched a movie with Alfred, neither of them had been able to sleep for a week. Gilbert has insisted on sleeping with his brother, and since Italy had the habit of showing up in Germany's bed anyway, it was a good idea to be prepared.
That reminds me of the time I went to war with that big jerk Denmark. He tried to steal a cat I was raising (an awesome Prussian Blue, of course), but I totally beat him up.
Then, like usual, England and Russia agreed with him to have us share the cat. I was cool like a little bird about that, since it was my cat anyway, but that idiot Denmark was against it.
Stuff like this and that happened, and I had to let Denmark take the cat. It didn't matter, 'cause it kept going after Gilbird, and that's not cool. After a while, West tried to get him back, but-
Oh! Spain wants to play a game! Gotta go, diary!
Gilbert Beilschmidt, Prßeuen
Ludwig closed the diary, replacing it on the pillow. He sighed, something he was doing a lot. "At least spell your name right," he muttered. He looked around the room, the mess as apparent as before. "Right, I'd better get back to work-"
"Oi, West! I'm home! And I brought the groceries!"
Germany dashed out of the room as quietly as he could. After taking a second to ready himself, he walked briskly to the entrance, where Gilbert was piling bag upon bag of food. "Wait, this is more than before."
The Prussian smiled wide. "I know. I met France at the store. He and Spain are coming over later to finish the contest. Fortunately, I've got two stomachs."
Ludwig simply shook his head. "You'll make yourself sick, you know."
"Kesesese! Don't worry! The awesome me can't ever lose!"