Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.


Arthur heard the boy's footsteps, but didn't turn around. His living room was peaceful, and Arthur didn't want Alfred's loudmouthed-ness ruining that. They'd been arguing again, over tea this time of all things. Alfred had thrown a bit of a hissy fit, and if there was anything Arthur couldn't stand it was wasted tea.

Of course, Alfred had a habit of putting ice cubes in it, which ruined it anyway.

Arthur could only see the teenager's shadow, but it was clear that Alfred was holding something, something almost as tall as he was. Something a little heavy, by the wobbly way Alfred was walking, though he was strong enough to keep it upright.

Alfred's shadow turned to the side, and Arthur saw at once that it was a rifle.

"What are you doing with that?" the older man asked quietly, weary of restraining this wild child. "Are you going hunting today?"

The shadow said nothing, but turned slightly. Arthur's eyes widened as he saw the barrel swivel directly toward him.

Alfred had always been a bit of a prankster, but this was going too far. He probably thought it was funny, aiming at his big brother. It was as though Alfred had forgotten all of the things Arthur had taught him about gun safety!

"There you go again, Alfred! If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. Never aim a gun at something you don't intend to kill!"

Arthur spun around, glaring furiously at Alfred, before realizing -

that expression.

Alfred had never, in the ages Arthur had known him, looked so serious.

"Oh... I see."