All the nations had received a mysterious letter.
Belarus wondered, as she clung to her (shivering?) dear big brother, why this imbecilic letter had come. Had it come to harm her big brother? She thought of crumpling it up. Tearing it up? Burning it? Kill the sender? Crumpling it up, tearing it up, burning it and then killing the sender?
She was about to crumple it up, as Ukraine burst into the room. Boing.
Her blue eyes widened, and shimmered at the site of Belarus' big brother. Such a long time…
"Ivan~" she let out, and nearly hugged him, (boing) when she was interrupted by Belarus.
An unamused Belarus with a jealous look tinting her cold and calm features spoke, "Big brother is mine." Belarus reached for her trusty knife.
Ukraine panicked and stepped away. Boing. "I'm not supposed to be here anyway. I'm sorry… M-my - " Her deep blue eyes glittered, tears gathering on her eyelashes. "I was just looking for – " She spotted the red, white, and green envelope in Belarus' pale hands.
Russia squirmed, as Belarus traced Ukraine's gaze.
Ukraine bounded forward. Boing.
Paying for gas didn't seem to matter much anymore, to Ukraine, even though her poverty problems had improved just a bit. Not much.
Belarus reluctantly let go of the envelope, and suddenly, Russia burst from her grasp. "Big broth – " She tried to wrangle him in. "You're supposed to marry me! Marry me!" she growled, and chased after him.
"Katyusha ~ " Russia grasped at empty air, reaching for Ukraine.
Ukraine hoped that she was doing the right thing, despite her boss, and whimpered, "Stop it, you're hurting Ivan!"
Belarus protested as she tugged Ivan's sleeve, "He's supposed to marry me – " but she didn't dig her nails into his skin, keeping a sure hold so he wouldn't flee.
This might've ignited a war, but…Ukraine held the envelope up to the light. She read it out loud, "You are invited to a special party at – "
China reached for the red, white, and green envelope tucked under his straw mat placed in front of his house.
He felt a clap on his shoulders. "Iva – " He turned around. Maybe he was getting too old... crazy even.
It was Taiwan, not Ivan. "What is it, Mei?"
"What is that?" she pointed at the letter, letting go of him.
"Just a letter." He responded.
Taiwan's eyes lit up, as China opened it up and read it. Especially at party.
She squealed with glee. "Are we going to go?"
"Sounds fun!" He read it over, as Taiwan ventured off to find Hong Kong, and drag him along to shop for a new party dress. "You are invited to a special party at… Germany's house at – "
"Arthur – " A sing song voice with a French accent tinting it rang through the air. "It's time for your – Oh ho ho~ what is zis?" A green, red, and white envelope sat at Arthur's bedside. "A love letter? Not from moi?" France picked it up.
"What are you doing, you wanker frog? Perving through my bed?" England's annoyed voice came to France.
France looked up. "I – well, look at this." He showed the envelope.
"Give me that." England snapped, snatching it from France's hands.
England opened it up, and read: "You are invited to a special party at… Germany's house." At this point, France looked genuinely alarmed. "At 6:00 pm. Dress – " France suddenly spotted the bed, and a creepy look gathered on his face.
"Casual." America read out, clapping Canada on the back. Canada held out the letter, and was reading it, when America actually recognized a word. "That I can do!" he said.
"A party!" America exclaimed, and pulled Canada along.
"A party…" Canada murmured, considering the chances of getting to know the world better at a party. He hardly ever was invited.
"Who are you?" the white bear in Canada's arms asked, looking up at his master, still not knowing who the hell his master was,
"I – I'm Canada. The one who's going to a party." Canada tried an honest smile, as America yelled out.
"Mattie, we've got to bring the best drinks because it says that it's – "
"I – I'll bring Timmies."
Japan came back from the tedious walk to his mailbox from his door. He really was getting old.
Suddenly, a letter dwindled out of his hands.
He sighed.
Japan stooped down, and opened the letter, placing the others on the bamboo table. Was it in Italy's stationery?
… It smelled of tomatoes.
He couldn't read Romaji letters very well, anyway. "A social gathering?" he said to himself, as he read it quietly.
His once emotionless face brightened up. "It's potluck. Today!" He rushed to the kitchen, and started pulling out his steamer, his rice bags, and salt.