Dreamtalia

A/N: I will readily admit, this is strongly based off of the unfinished Hetalia RPG game Dreamtalia. My disclaimer: I do not own Dreamtalia. I may switch it up quite a bit, though… Any ideas and/or references to the game itself belong to the creator(s).

Now, I will commence to the story. Please enjoy!

Act I

To Earn Respect

It was a crisp, autumn morning. The orange leaves were being shaken from their branches as they swirled around the streets, guided by the arctic winds from farther north. It was rather early, but the sun had at least risen a little bit. A large house rested at the top of a hill surrounded by neatly cut brown grass. Many of the trees that surrounded it in this secluded area had already been stripped of their leaves and stood bare.

A blue and red car sat parked in the driveway of the manor-like house. It seemed like a rather silent morning. The owner of the house was still fast asleep, however, and the smell of fresh pancakes and maple syrup emanated from the premises.

A boy who seemed to be in his early twenties was in the kitchen. He was wearing a bulky, warm hoodie with red sleeves, and a red maple leaf in the middle of the white base of the coat. His pale blonde hair was wavy and covered his ears and a single strange curl hung in front of his face. He placed a plate of pancakes on the table, stacked almost six inches high. The said character, Canada – also known as Matthew Williams – then went to tend to a pot on the stove, where he was focusing on making hot chocolate. A pot of coffee brewed in a machine on the counter.

The fog outside had caused the window to become frosted. It was likely below freezing outside. Canada shivered and his pet polar bear, Kumajirou waddled into the room and curled up on top of Canada's fuzzy slippers. Canada sighed and pet the bear on the head. "…You must think it's cold, too, eh?"

Kumajirou lifted his head and stared back at Canada with beady dark eyes. He did not reply, but stood up and began walking to the stairs just outside the dining room. He walked up two steps and turned to look back at Canada.

The blonde smiled. "Of course, Kumajirou… We should go wake up America and tell him that breakfast is ready, eh?" The bear kept a blank expression on his face as he proceeded up the stairs with Canada following behind.

Upstairs, another boy in his early twenties was still asleep in his bed. His blanket was decorated with the American flag, and his room was atrocious. Books, games, magazines, important documents, and research papers were scattered about the floor along with discarded clothing and mismatched shoes. The boy was bundled underneath a total of three blankets. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and his glasses, Texas, which he often wore, were also on the floor with every other imaginable item. The said character, America – also known as Alfred Jones – was sound asleep.

Just then, a knock was heard at his door. America didn't budge. "America…?" a timid voice inquired. The door opened, revealing Canada and Kumajirou in the doorway. Kumajirou sat as Canada entered, cautiously stepping over the debris scattered all over the floor. "America?" Canada's brow furrowed as he approached the big bundle of blankets and sheets on the nearly bare mattress. There were so many layers of thick blankets; Canada feared his brother wouldn't be able to breathe.

"Breakfast is ready, America… I made pancakes…" Canada whispered through an opening in the bundle.

"I don't want you to cook for me, England…" America mumbled absently. Canada chuckled. His brother had always been a heavy sleeper. Sometimes, it was really fun to hear him talk in his sleep. Alfred's former caregiver had been known for his terrible cooking. That probably explained why America rarely cooked his own food and always preferred having foreign cuisines. Well, it's a good thing Canada was taught by France…

"I'll be waiting for you downstairs, America." Canada said before slipping silently out of the room, following Kumajirou down the stairs. As they reached the floor with the kitchen, Canada sighed. Something seemed to be troubling him as he kept his blue-eyed gaze trained on the floor.

In the bedroom, America was dreaming. He imagined that he'd finally found a cure for cancer. But suddenly, out of nowhere, America's cell phone began ringing loudly.

America leapt up from the bed, startled, throwing all of his blankets into the air and then falling to the floor on his face with a loud thud. From downstairs, Canada called almost inaudibly, "Alfred, is everything okay up there?" He knew his brother to be the clumsy type… all Canada could do, though, was hope that America didn't hurt himself. America lifted his head from the hardwood floor and groaned. "Ow…"

He sat up and rubbed his head. The impact must've been harder than he thought. "Who in the name of Congress would be calling me at such an hour?!" he exclaimed as he reached over and picked up his cell phone. After reading the caller ID, his eyebrows raised and he answered the phone.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end cleared his throat before speaking in a distinguishable British accent. "Hello, America."

"England? Why are you calling me? Do you have any idea what time it is?!"

The Englishman on the other end of the line sighed. England, otherwise known as Arthur Kirkland, was sitting in a chair at his own table, sipping tea from a dainty teacup. He had such blonde hair that it looked almost yellow, green eyes, and thick eyebrows. He had an almost perpetual scowl on his face as he heard the American's comment. "Would you just shut up and let me speak? I know it's early, but spare me a few seconds of your time, America." England said, frowning.

America stood and picked up the wad of thick, heavy blankets with one hand as he replied, "Alright, Dude. Clue me in. I'm listening."

"Thank you. Anyway, what I was trying to say, was that I may have thought out another War tactic. I need your help in testing it out. I also need assistance in testing out a new potion," Britain explained.

There was a long period of silence on the other end of the line, as America contemplated what England had just said. For a moment, England thought America had hung up on him.

Finally, America hesitantly replied, "So you want me there as a lab rat…?"

"Not necessarily, you git! In fact, I'm coming over there. I'll be bringing my things so we could conduct the experiment in the basement—

"Wait a second, Dude!" America interjected, "Why can't you do all this stuff at your place?!"

Britain paused for a moment. "It is important business and research. It's none of your business to know what it is that I'm doing."

"If it's none of my business, why are you bringing your business to my house?!" America objected. It was a rational point… If Britain wanted privacy, why would he come to America's house? Besides, Canada was staying with him for the time being. America didn't want Canada to get caught up with all of their disagreements and altercations.

"That is beside the point, Alfred." England said. "Meet me at the café in fifteen minutes. We'll discuss this later."

Before America could object again, the Englishman hung up the phone abruptly, leaving America dumbfounded. Why was England always ignoring his opinion? The blonde shrugged and proceeded to get dressed. He put on his uniform and bomber jacket from the Second World War. His alien friend, Tony was sitting at the laptop computer on his desk. The screen was black and covered with several binary codes and numbers typed in a green font. America's brow furrowed in confusion. Then he smiled and said, "I'm leaving, Tony. I'm gonna go meet up with Britain. I'll see you later, but try not to cause any alien invasions in the country while I'm gone."

At the mention of England's name, Tony repeatedly muttered British insults. America laughed, "I'll call D.C. to watch you as well."

When the nation made it downstairs, Canada was sitting at the table, slowly eating a stack of pancakes. He had a cup of hot chocolate beside him and Alfred's plate and cup of coffee were sitting at the table across from him. Canada watched as his brother found his shoes in the hallway closet and proceeded to leave through the front door. "W-Wait, America!" Canada called.

America stopped for a moment and then turned around as if he'd just realized that Canada was sitting at the dining room table. "Oh, hey, Canadia! What's up?"

Canada seemed to shrink back a little bit. Even though he was, in fact, taller than America (by only a little bit), he wasn't nearly as bold. Canada was the elder of the two siblings, and he was curious to know what his brother was up to. "What do you mean, "What's up"? Where are you going, America?" Canada inquired patiently.

The younger sibling seemed to just shrug off the question. "Ah, I'm just going to see England for a bit. It's nothin' for you to worry about, Dude."

Canada couldn't even put into words how much he hated this sort of treatment. "I thought you hated England… A-Aren't you going to eat breakfast? I made you a plate of pancakes and some coffee."

"I do hate England, Canadia. But I had to get over that," America replied, glancing over at the plate of pancakes and steaming coffee mug on the table. He came into the kitchen and took the whole plate, cup, and bottle of Canada's homemade maple syrup and started to make his leave. "W-Wait a second! You're not going to sit here and actually enjoy this meal I made? I mean…" Canada shrunk back. "You don't even want to sit here and eat with me?"

America sighed, "Canada, I have to go."

"But, America, don't you think I deserve the least bit of respect? I mean, you took my whole supply of maple syrup! And you're not even going to leave me any? Could you at least share?" Canada said. He was trying to reason with America, but because his brother was younger, it was unlikely that the nation would listen to him. America rarely did.

"Can we talk about this a bit later, Dude? I have to meet England in fifteen minutes at the café." America said hurriedly, as he grabbed the plate and poured a generous helping of maple syrup on top. He started for the door with his plate and cup of coffee. He looked back at his brother for a brief second, and without giving Canada a chance to respond, left without another word.

Canada stood in shocked silence. His face began to heat up and turn red as he clenched his fists in anger. He was a nation, too, so he deserved respect. America never paid him much of any attention, and Canada was tired of it. "I can't believe this…" Canada whispered angrily. He slumped down in his chair at the breakfast table.

Kumajirou waddled up to him and placed a paw on his leg. "What's wrong?" he asked. Canada's eyes widened and he glanced down at the bear.

Sniffing, Canada replied, "America has lost all decency. I can't believe he had the nerve to treat me in such a way, like I'm not even here! Il agitcomme un imbécilecrétin! I wish America would simply acknowledge me as the respectable country I am!" Canada felt as if he'd been ranting and suddenly took two deep, exasperated breaths before turning to Kumajirou, who looked up at him with beady dark eyes. "You understand, right, Kumajirou?"

The bear hesitated for a moment. Canada was becoming anxious in getting a reply. "Who are you?" Kumajirou asked.

Canada frowned as if he was about to cry. "I'm Canada!" He put his head on the table in defeat.

Meanwhile, England sat at a table in the café, checking his watch impatiently. Eventually a blonde boy came rushing in, bundled up with a scarf and a bomber jacket. The signature tuft of hair that stuck up on his head indicated exactly who it was. Even as he entered the café, his breath still turned to fog.

"It took you long enough," the Englishman scowled. He'd only been waiting for twenty minutes, but he always found a way to scold America about everything he did, including his punctuality.

"Just shut up, alright?" America sneered. England's perpetual scowl deepened as he noticed the solemn look on America's face. "I'm not in the best of moods right now, so tell me what's up?"

England glared suspiciously at the American. "What happened, Alfred?"

"It's none of your business," America retorted. In reality, he was actually feeling guilty. He feared that in his rush to leave the house, he may have hurt Canada's feelings. But he felt that he had to hurry so that England wouldn't have to rub the matter of punctuality in his face like he always did. Even despite them being "equals", England always treated him like a child, and America hated it.

The older nation waved off America's comment. "Anyways, I called you here because I needed to discuss a war tactic with you. In case you haven't noticed, tensions have already been arising in Europe, and Germany, Italy, and Japan have been training for some reason. I have a feeling that they may be planning to wage war once again."

"Dude," America said disbelievingly. "There's no way that they could be trying to conspire another war. Besides, Japan is a good friend of mine—there's no way he would do something like that. I mean, he comes over to my house on weekends to test out new video games. There is no way."

The American crossed his arms stubbornly and England sighed and took a sip of his tea. When he set the dainty cup back on its coaster, he looked up at America with all seriousness. "That's beside the point, Alfred. If they're training, I figured that regardless of who the enemy might be, we should prepare as well. That way, if those dreaded Axis Powers decide to pull any tricks, we'll know how to counter it."

America seemed to consider that point. "But, Dude, isn't World War II already over? I mean, how long has it been, like, sixty-eight years? Why would they still be considering waging war with one of us?"

"Like I said," Britain reasoned, "It is necessary that we train diligently before something like that actually occurs. My plan is to practice a new strategy by capturing Italy as a prisoner. And because you have a cell in your basement, I figured that would be a good place to put him while I continue working on my experiment."

There was a long period of silence while America thought this over. He wasn't particularly looking for a debate with England, and Germany certainly wasn't in the best of moods or on the best of terms with America. After it was found out that his own government may have been spying on Germany's ambassador, America wasn't really anticipating anything harsh that Germany would have to say. To say the least, he wasn't looking forward to this strategy at all.

"Fine… If you think this will work, Dude, I'll go along with it."

"Alright," England said, leaning over the table. "I've found out that those Axis Powers are going to be training hard at Italy's house. And you already know that the Italian's house is in a secluded place surrounded by trees, like your own.

"I'm listening," America said.

Britain smirked deviously. America hated when he did that because when Britain smiled, it typically meant he was planning something that would benefit himself and likely no one else. "Alright, so here's what we're going to do…"

A/N: That's the end of the first chapter. I certainly hope it isn't too boring, to say the least. I appreciate constructive criticism, but please don't bash it too much. This is my first story, so please be gentle when reviewing. I really hope you readers out there are looking forward to the next chapter. I certainly am. ^^