So, Sweetheart's Week is over and I thought I'd get a break from writing. Then I realized that it's my sister's birthday in less than 12 days, so...I decided to write her a 12-chapter story. AMERICA IS THE HERO. That's all.

Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, I'd dress America up in crazy outfits every single freaking day. ;)


America had always tried desperately to be the hero. Wait, strike that. America was always the hero. So it didn't make much sense to him when England told him to actually act like a hero. When you were a hero, you always acted like a hero, correct?

According to England, though, he wasn't a hero. Knowing that made him depressed and, quite frankly, not in the mood to be at the World Meeting that day.

However, when he saw Switzerland stand up to speak, he noticed something strange- Switzerland had an arsenal of various guns.

Okay, maybe it wasn't that strange, considering he always had an arsenal of guns, but, still. It seemed a bit weirder to him today than any other day. Yet, despite his immense amount of highly dangerous weapons (and how the hell did he get them in here in the first place?), America noticed that young Lichtenstein couldn't seem to get enough of her brother. Her large, green eyes stared at him like he was a...a hero.

Guns. Guns? Guns was what made a hero? America sat up taller in his seat, the little wheels in his head turning and turning until...

He knew what he was going to do to become a hero.

At the next meeting, he arrived late, as always. Instead of a normal 'I'm here~!' entrance, though, he opted instead to make his way in slowly, enjoying the faces he received.

"America?" Trust England to speak up first. "What the bloody-"

America simply sent a smirk his way. "It's okay to be in awe," he stated. "I don't mind."

Honestly, he didn't. He loved the attention, after all. And he sure as heck should get attention while wearing this outfit- his old cowboy outfit from his days out on the wild west, two pistols, a rifle, and other assorted guns.

England coughed nervously. "It's not awe, it's..." He struggled with his sentence, so France filled in.

"Amérique, it's just one of those moments where we all say...eh, what do Americans use to express great shock? WTF." The bearded nation nodded proudly at the fact that he was somehow able to pick up on all those ridiculous texts that America tended to send to every nation out there.

Instead of instantly declaring that he had to change, though, America suddenly pulled out a pistol and pointed it directly at France's forehead. "I think you should take that back!" he exclaimed.

With a collective gasp, everyone in the room stood and some even took this moment to slowly back away- clearly America was drunk, they believed. England was one of the few that remained rooted in his spot. "Er, America, as much as I hate the frog, I do believe that killing him at a World Meeting won't get you anywhere. For one, this is lovely carpet, and if his blood stains it, it'll be a pain to clean."

"Imbécile," France hissed, his eyes never once leaving America's guns.

Only now did America look somewhat confused. "Eh? But...But Switzerland has all these guns!"

"That's because it's expected of him." Germany spoke up now, blue eyes glaring dangerously at America. "If Switzerland were to show up at a World Meeting without his guns, I think we'd all be quite surprised."

On this note, Switzerland pulled out one of his own guns and began threateningly gesturing it to America. "I could blow your brains out right now if I wanted to, and no one would do a damn thing to stop me!" he growled.

He probably would have, too, if Lichtenstein hadn't pulled on his sleeve. "Big brother, please don't kill Mr. America! He's nice."

This put the Swiss nation at conflicting emotions. The ones he held for his sister won out in the end, though. "Next time, though, he will not escape," he promised before taking a seat.

America laughed loudly, trying to prove that he wasn't scared of Switzerland, not one bit! "We'll see, Swiss-dude." That being said, America took his place at the front of the room, standing behind the podium and not even bothering to check and see if some other country was supposed to be speaking. "Right, so I suggest that, to deal with global warming, we-"

"One," England called out, disrupting America's speech. "We're not even discussing global warming today and, two, take off the ridiculous outfit. We're all supposed to be wearing formal clothing, not cowboy boots." He was looking rather irritated, his large eyebrows furrowed and a frown stuck to his face.

America groaned. "Iggy, this is my hero outfit, though! C'mon, lemme wear it today, please?"

"I said no," England repeated. "Now, go take them off or I'll take them off for-" Realizing what he was saying, England stopped, turning bright red, while every other country in the room erupted into a fit of chuckles.

"Really, Angleterre, you're willing to show such affection in front of others? Now, if you would like, there's a closet just across-"

He was cut off as the room absolutely exploded with uncontrollable laughter. America and England both turned red, the latter finally standing and tossing his precious teacup at the 'country of love'. "You bloody perverted frog!" he screamed. "There is nothing funny about this, it was a slip of my tongue! Stop laughing, damn it!" When no one would listen to him (if anything, they just laughed even harder), England left the room with angry stomps.

America was speechless for a moment, but he finally found the ability to move his legs and run after England. "Wait! Hey, don't leave, I didn't mean for anything-"

"Shut up, America! Always making things difficult for me!" He twisted his head while striding away, then yelled, "And, for the last time, change into your bloody suit!"

Once England left, America realized just how right the island nation was. If he had to be truthful with himself, the outfit did make him look rather silly. And, maybe pointing a gun at France's head for no reason at all wasn't the brightest of moves.

How was it, then, that Switzerland got the title of the hero and America didn't? Not the guns...it couldn't be his kind, loving nature (or lack thereof). The only thing Switzerland did was make sure that France didn't rape anyone...

Ah-ha.


What will he do next to prove that he is indeed a hero?

I already came up with everything during science when I was supposed to be helping my friends write an essay. Pfft. I didn't know what I was talking about, because they finally forced me to write it, and even though I used big words, we failed anyway. I guess the structures of rocks don't have anything to do with tiny little molecules that live inside of them (see now why I fail at science?)

Anyway, in a few short weeks, takixe190 (my sis, by the way), shall be visiting Alfred F. Jones' vital regions (aka, D.C.). Yeha, girl. You take pictures of them vital regions. ;) Anyway, here we have the first chapter of your 12-part birthday gift. I know you love Iggy like crazy, so I'll try putting him in every chapter. I just couldn't resist writing this story. Maybe next I'll do A Dozen Ways to Be A Gentleman?

Yeah.