Author's Note: This fanfiction is also available to read on Archive of Our Own, under the same title. Updates will be more on-time over on Ao3, but I will make sure to post the story here as well. This is my first proper fanfiction in many years; it's a little bit whimsical and I'm just having a bit of fun. Hope you enjoy.

Boring.

That was the only word Alfred could describe this situation as. On second thought, not even boring sufficed. Every world meeting since whenever he could remember had progressively been getting duller. Issues were discussed, potential solutions were put forward, arguments were raised and eventually everyone one concede defeat and nothing of any significance would come out of the whole show.

Now, this wasn't to say that Alfred hated peacetime, not at all! Peacetime was glorious. But ever since the world had settled down, relatively speaking, all of the nations he had met or had become acquainted with had fallen into a state of distant social stagnation. For the most part, everyone seemed to revert back to their own geographical circles.

He looked across the table to where - Alfred quickly glanced at the name plate on the table – Poland, was animatedly talking about something. Having long tuned out to the conversation, the sentence fragments he caught were lost on him. The blonde was making big arm gestures and constantly glancing to Lithuania for back up. The brunette merely nodded and smiled, seemingly nervous being under the eyes of almost everyone else in the meeting room.

Alfred rolled a ball of notepaper in his hand as he had a profound realisation. It dawned on him that beyond these occasional world summits, they didn't really spend much time all together as a group anymore.

'Man, when did we get so anti-social?' he mused. 'We never do anything anymore... This sucks!'

"America, what's your opinion?"

Suddenly Alfred felt the weight of everyone's gaze settle upon him. The wad of paper made a desperate crinkling noise as the American clenched his fist tighter – it was starting to feel like a lump of lead. It was likely to become as equally dense if he was scrutinised by the entire meeting any longer.

"I, uuuh," he started - and didn't really stop. At the corner of his eye he saw Arthur make an incredulous face as he rolled his eyes. With that, he decided the best answer to give was a strong and resounding: "Yes!"

The room erupted into a furore - about half of the nations rose from their seats and proceeded to point and shout at one another. Alfred swore he saw Egypt throw a pen across the table.

"You really are an idiot," Arthur scoffed, crossed his arms and leaned back into his seat. Alfred had nothing more to say – which was probably for the best. He really should have listened to the discussion more intently.

Eventually - after an unfortunate window was broken by a stray coffee mug - the meeting was dismissed for a brief recess. The hall had quietened down considerably as many of the arguing nations opted to take their breaks at opposite ends of the building. The embarrassing incident left Alfred desperately craving a carbonated drink and so began his quest. He hoped that he wouldn't run into a certain cranky and condescending Brit. While he could normally tolerate and keep pace with his friend's banter, today was not the day for it. Not to mention, with the commotion that had just taken place, he couldn't help but feel somewhat sheepish.

He rounded the corner of the corridor and was relieved at the sight of the neat row of vending machines. As he fished his pockets for loose change, he noticed someone else by the machines retrieving a drink.

"Eeey, 'Merica; man of the hour!" Australia beamed and raised his hand for a high-five that Alfred reluctantly returned. "Nice work on the meeting, couldn'ta handled it better myself."

"Shut up, Jack," Alfred retorted, but there was no punch behind it. His out-of-sorts mood was quickly picked up by the other, whose expression turned wide-eyed.
"You feelin' alright, mate?"

Alfred poked some coins into the humming machine.

"Not really," he answered honestly, "Just been thinking about stuff."

"Oh?" Jack leaned against the adjacent vending machine, cracking the tab on his can of soda and taking a swig. "What sorta stuff?"

"I dunno, it's just... don't you find it boring?"

"Well… yeah? Who enjoys suiting up and sitting in a stuffy hall for hours?"

"No, dude, not the meetings – well, they're boring too but, like…" Alfred paused as the vending machine interrupted with a familiar kerthunk! He picked up his soda and cracked the tab. "We don't do anything – we just show up to these meetings, do our business and then go back to our separate lives."

"Oh, that sorta stuff..." Jack sighed with understanding. He flicked idly at the tab of his drink can. "Ever thought of organisin' something for everyone? Y'know, like a party? Or a camping trip? You can go out somewhere isolated, go for a hike, crack open some beers; Zeals n' I do it all the time."

Alfred was about to take a sip from his soda when Jack's words sparked a light in his head.

"That's... a great idea, holy crap," Alfred remarked looking rather dumbfounded. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Hey, I'm full of great ideas but f'some reason nobody asks me," Jack remarked and shrugged. "If you do go through with it though, don't be a stooge and not invite me!" He fondly nudged Alfred in the arm before returning to the conference room.

Alfred stood by the vending machines a while longer. The gentle thrum of refrigeration surrounded him as he mulled over the idea with growing anticipation.

"This is going to be so ace!"

⁎✤⁎

"A camping trip?" Arthur sounded dubious.

Alfred had sat himself on the meeting table where the small handful of European nations had been reviewing their notes. The recess hadn't quite come to an end yet, but one by one they were all returning to their seats. The group exchanged uncertain glances as Alfred's suggestion sunk in.

"For reals, dudes," Alfred confirmed. "All of us are going camping in the wilderness; it'll be kick-ass!"

No one shared his enthusiasm.

"Somehow, I don't think that would be such a good idea," Arthur spoke for the rest of the nations present – which, upon observation, appeared to be a circle of the former Allies. Both he and Yao appeared disillusioned with the concept of a great-outdoors-adventure, whilst Ivan seemingly ignored the whole affair.

"Whaaat?" Alfred whined causing Arthur to visibly wince at the volume. "But I think it's a great idea."

"Every idea you have, you think is a great idea…" Yao murmured; an astute observation that Arthur could only nod at.

"Oh, but I agree with you," Francis joined in, practically perching his head over Arthur's shoulder. "Perhaps Angleterre here simply dislikes the thought of snuggling in a tent with me." The last few words were flourished with a devious wink and Arthur growled dangerously.

Without further warning, the Englishman slammed the palm of his hand into Francis's face and forcibly re-established a comfortable distance between them.

"Anyone with as much as a teaspoon of decency would dislike the thought of sharing a tent with you, frog!"

"How cruel!" Francis feigned a hurt expression – bringing the back of his hand to his forehead for dramatic effect. Their bickering only escalated – as it always tended to – leaving Alfred crestfallen.

"C'mon guys, I was trying to be thoughtful," he huffed as his shoulders sagged. "I mean, we don't do stuff together like we used to. I only see you guys, like, at these stupid meetings and lame political events." Alfred might as well have been talking to himself, as he noticed that his words had practically blown over the two fighting blondes and Yao had busied himself with his papers.

A hand dropped on his shoulder and Alfred just about jumped out of his skin.

"I like the idea, America," came Italy's soft voice. It appeared that the ruckus had attracted his attention, having been seated only a few chairs down. Alfred's eyes lit up with a rising hopefulness. He couldn't say he knew the Mediterranean nation particularly well – but he was nevertheless encouraged by the show of interest.

"I haven't spent time with a lot of people lately; we should all go together and have fun!" The shorter nation turned around to wave over his friends. "How about it, Ludwig? Kiku?"

"How about, what, Feliciano?" Ludwig questioned as his eyes drew over to where Francis and Arthur were still arguing. He wasn't quite sure what the inquiry was in reference to and wasn't about to make a committed answer.

"A camping trip," the Italian answered brightly. At the first hint of doubt in Ludwig's eyes, he reached out to take hold of his hands, swinging them playfully. "It'll be so much fun, c'mon! It'll be like that time we were at that beach, on that island – remember?"

Feliciano began to ramble frantically about their past hangouts, and Kiku – who was normally rather reserved in all exchanges Alfred had seen him in – smiled fondly, clearly recalling those events and sharing in the joyful nostalgia.

"I do not mind," Kiku admitted. His small smile grew a fraction as he noticed Ludwig cast him a look of abandonment. Eventually, he too caved in to Feliciano's pleading.

"Alright, I'm in," he resigned.

"Hooray!" Feliciano and Alfred both threw their arms into the air.

"If Kiku is going, I suppose I wouldn't mind coming too," Yao piped up – his façade of disinterest rapidly fading.

"That's five," Feliciano tallied as he began looking around the room for more potential invitees.

"Make that six, da?"

"Don't stand so close behind me!" Yao nearly flopped face-first into the meeting table at the sudden unexpected presence of the tall Russian. "You scare me half to death when you do that!"

Alfred didn't entirely feel content with Ivan inviting himself to the gathering – but in a strange way he didn't mind. He felt swept up in the excitement of finally getting to hang out with his fellow nations again that it didn't really matter that he and Ivan weren't exactly friends; after all, the more the merrier!

"It looks like it's going to take them some convincing…" Ludwig muttered as he pointed to Francis and Arthur who were still somehow fighting.

"Well, Francis said he liked the idea – so technically that's seven," Alfred corrected. "Arthur's the only one who hasn't really agreed."

With regained vigour, Alfred strode up to the two wrestling men and pushed them apart effortlessly.

"Arthur, you're the last one, dude!"

"I already told you no," he grumbled. "With you at the helm of it, it would be a complete and utter disaster."

"Black-Sheep of Europe…" Francis hissed quietly. The old nickname earned the Frenchman a death stare packing enough ice to freeze hell twice over.

"Dude, don't be such a party pooper! Get out and see the wilderness!" Alfred wrapped an arm around Arthur's shoulder as he said this, and waved the other hand out in front of them as if to unfold an imaginary landscape.

"That's rich, coming from the guy who sits on his arse eating garbage all day," Arthur quipped, only for Alfred to tighten his arm around his shoulders.

"So you're coming?"

"No."

"That's eight!"

"I said 'no', you bloody fool!"

"Alright, so here's the plan," Alfred snatched a scrap of paper and a pen from one of the many scattered across the table. "We'll meet up at this address after the meeting; bring whatever you guys have for clothes – I'll sort out the rest – and then tomorrow morning, we'll go!"

Everyone was watching the American as he frantically wrote directions on the paper.

"Go where, exactly?" Arthur asked. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the younger nation.

"To the perfect camping place! It's a secret – but you're gonna love it!" Alfred was talking so fast in his excitement almost no one fully heard him. "Anyway, you dudes got all that Oh, and bring food and drinks – camping isn't camping without the snacks!"

There was a sound of agreement from the group – though there was a shared sentiment that this was either going to be the best or worst weekend of their lives. As Alfred returned to his seat and the meeting was called to resume, he couldn't help but feel that he was forgetting something beneath all his joy.

⁎✤⁎

After the world conference had been drawn to a close, Ludwig had returned to the hotel they were designated to stay at. He sat on the edge of the bed sorting through his clothes idly, head feeling sluggish from the slow and unconstructive meeting. He wasn't entirely sure if he had the energy to get through a multi-national camping 'shindig' as Alfred had aptly put it. Nevertheless, he couldn't say no to Feliciano's enthusiasm. He had enough clothes to last the weekend anyway, and it was meant to be a relaxing social gathering…

…though thinking about who was already invited, he recognised that it was very unlikely that this event would result in any kind of relaxation.

With a heavy sigh, Ludwig placed his clothes into the rucksack he had prepared and departed for the bathroom to fetch a towel.

The electronic lock clicked and the hotel room door creaked ajar – the sound slightly dampened by the whirring bathroom fan.

"Hey, what do you know, my key card works here too…" the words were whispered just out of earshot. Gilbert tiptoed past the bathroom door, mobile phone in hand – and recording – as he narrated quietly, "on this episode of 'The Daily Life of the Awesome One'…"

Gilbert switched to the forward camera, focusing on the rucksack Ludwig had left on the bed as he pressed his fingers to the phone screen to zoom in and out dramatically.

"What dirty secrets will we uncover in my brother's bag? Stay tuned and we'll find out-"

"What are you doing?"

Gilbert made a dignified squeak of surprise as he spun on his heels to face his younger brother. Ludwig's brow was raised quizzically as he eyed the phone in his sibling's hand. Gilbert regained his composure quickly, clearing his throat in a very deliberate manner.

"We were caught out by West, thus concludes this episode."

"Why were you filming my bag?"

"Oh you know, just recording another exciting episode of my life for my blog," he answered proudly. "It's gaining traction, I tell you – I had ten views on last week's episode!"

"Ooh, that's very good," Ludwig said in a light voice that Gilbert immediately recognised as sarcasm. He pouted as the blonde walked past and resumed packing the rucksack. His interest in the activity drew him out of his brief dejectedness.

"So, um, what are you packing for?"

"Weren't you going to stay with Antonio this weekend?" Ludwig deflected with a question of his own. He knew where the conversation would lead if he gave his brother the real answer.

"Hola!"

The two Germanic brothers glanced over to the doorway where Antonio was now standing with his ever jovial demeanour.

"No, you didn't listen to me – Antonio is coming to stay with us," Gilbert informed all the while waggling a finger in front of his face.

"Lovino, too," Antonio added as a second figure was dragged into the room. The shorter brunette refused to make eye-contact with any of them, instead taking preference to glaring holes into the beige wallpaper.

"So, Ludwig, why all the packing?" Antonio continued easily, "you catching an early plane tomorrow?"

"I'm going camping," he confessed. There was no avoiding it at this point. "Alfred invited a few people for a trip tomorrow."

Gilbert's jaw dropped.

"I'll be home by next Monday, so don't take this as an excuse to have a mad house party." The blonde zipped the rucksack and was about to place it by the door when Gilbert intercepted him.

"Wait, wait, wait," the white-haired brother waved his hands frantically, temporarily forgetting his still had the phone recording. "You're going camping."

"That's what I said."

"And you're not inviting me?"

Ludwig remained tight lipped. Yep, this was exactly how he foresaw it turning out.

"Unacceptable – how can you go camping and forget me?" Gilbert interrogated while pulling more dramatic zooms on his phone before his sibling gently pushed past.

"I wasn't the one who decided it," he stated simply and hoped it would be left at that.
He was disheartened only for a short second before glee washed over him, prompting him to rush over to both Antonio and Lovino.

"Well, I'm deciding the invitation should be extended!" He announced, wrapping both arms around the two in the doorway.

"What?" Ludwig and Lovino both shouted.

"I know, I know, I'm pretty smart," Gilbert chuckled and nodded sagely. "Just text Alfred and tell him that the eight has become eleven!"

Having struggled during this entire exchange, Lovino finally broke free of Gilbert's hold. He backed himself against the wall and brushed himself down in a gesture fuelled by contempt.

"No way, I'm not about to spend this weekend stuffed in a dingy tent with you guys," he insisted. Antonio did a remarkable impression of a wounded puppy.

"But I thought you didn't want to be home alone, Lovi?"

It was Lovino's turn to do an impression now, his face flushing a bright red that would've put any ripe tomato to shame.

"Shut up, I did not say that!"

"It's settled!" Gilbert's laughter grew until Lovino eventually lunged at both him and Antonio. The tackle sent all three of them toppling into a heap into the hotel corridor – a mixture of yelling and chuckling filling the air. Ludwig could only groan in irritation as he brought his hand to his forehead, pinching at his brow to soothe what was beginning to feel like the early stages of a headache.

"Gah, don't break my phone, I need that!"

"I don't care about your stupid phone, bastard!"

"Lovino, stop, you're going to crush my leg—AGH!"

"Will you keep it down?" A fourth voice entered the uproar that silenced everyone. It was a surprise to no one that the commotion had attracted attention – especially from one of the most reclusive of their peers. Two rooms down was apparently where Switzerland was staying. His jade eyes leered daggers across the corridor, his face twisted in a scowl of repugnance.

"You're going to get yourselves thrown out if you keep carrying on like wild animals," he chastised. His eyes hardened when he saw Gilbert tear himself away from the pretzelled mess.

"A wild Swiss Hermit appeared," he commented with an eagerness that worried Switzerland. Before Gilbert could invade his personal space with the phone camera, he pushed the device away, nearly knocking it out of the offending hand.

"Whatever, I'm leaving."

A foot wedged itself between the door and the frame and prevented it from closing. Switzerland didn't have a chance to collect himself before Gilbert pulled him from his hotel room and out into the corridor. Tucked tightly under the eccentric man's arm, he tried desperately to hide his face from the phone camera.

"I had another stroke of genius!"

"Let go of me!"

"Eleven has now become twelve!"

"Bruder," Ludwig's use of their shared native tongue meant serious business. "You can't just invite whomever you please."

"Nonsense! Hermit-boy needs to get out more – I'm doing him a favour!"

The hermit in question once again made an attempt to escape Gilbert's clutches, but to no avail. The force with which he was pulled back with nearly caused their heads to collide.

"C'mon Antonio, Lovino, let's go pack – we'll supervise this one here so he doesn't try to weasel out of it!"

Once the group had left the vicinity of Ludwig's room, he shut the door with a deep fatigued exhale.

He was so very tired.

"I suppose I had better text Alfred… Yes, that's a good idea…"

⁎✤⁎

What felt like an eternity to Basch, had only been a mere half an hour. Finally forcing the irritating albino and his friends out of the room, he was relieved to get some breathing space. He really hated people disturbing his privacy – especially when they were obnoxious, loud and had far too much unrestrained energy.

No sooner had he reclaimed his peace and quiet, however, the electronic room lock beeped and the door opened once again. Ready to curse Gilbert to high hell, Basch only got two words out when he noticed it was Lili.

"I-is everything alright?" Her voice was meek – he had startled her. "I heard shouting…"

"It was nothing; sorry for yelling," Basch apologised and flopped backwards onto his bed.

Lili approached silently, observing the haphazardly stuffed backpack by the foot of her brother's bed with her bright meadow eyes.

"Are you going out somewhere?" She queried.

"Camping," Basch murmured. "Just for the weekend."

His statement was followed by an exasperated groan. Why hadn't he tried to resist the stupid Prussian more? Lili couldn't help but raise her brows – she hadn't heard him this annoyed in a while.

"You'll be okay, right?" Basch turned his head to face her. "You've got some plans of your own, don't you?"

Her gaze diverted to the floor while she fidgeted her fingers. She did have some ideas of what to do without her brother – but that was all they were. She hadn't really made any arrangements, and while she had grown relatively independent of Basch as of late, she still enjoyed spending time with him. With that said, she didn't want to smother him with her constant presence either. She nodded her head at her brother's questions as she suppressed the knot in her gut.

"I… you have a safe trip, okay?"

Basch knew her well enough to know she was putting on her confidence for him. Though he felt he should say something, he wasn't particularly good at finding the right words – even if she was essentially his little sister.

"I will, don't worry," was all he could say to reassure her.

⁎✤⁎

"You did what?!"

The universe must've scheduled today to be his bad luck day, Alfred mused, as he dodged another precision aimed couch cushion. He caught his foot on the side-table, knocking it over and subsequently falling onto the carpet in an ungraceful heap.

"I'm sorry Mattie, really!" Alfred frantically babbled as he rolled onto his back. He covered his face with his arms as Matthew pummelled him with another cushion. "I didn't mean to—OW! –forget about you, honest! Aah!"

"Just like you didn't mean to invite half of Europe to my house for a camping trip in my country?" Matthew gave his brother another whack with the cushion. He was less than impressed. "Yeah, thanks very much, Al! What a wonderful brother you are!"

"Ow! Ow! Okay! I'm sorry, I just got carried away," Alfred continued. Another whump in the face. "Alright, really carried away!"

Matthew yielded – inhaling a few deep breaths with the hopes of settling his temper.

"Do you want to come too?"

"Aw, how nice of you to ask!" Alfred almost grinned until he caught onto the maple-y sweet sarcasm. Matthew seemed to have abandoned the attack though, and had discarded his cushion, making his way over to fix the toppled side-table instead. "Honestly, Al, I don't know how I live… next to you." He had to think about that for a moment.

Since the conference had indeed taken place in Matthew's land, Alfred had kindly been allowed to stay in his house as opposed to the hotel. Even in these instances where Matthew's presence couldn't possibly be overlooked or ignored, by some divine curse it still happened. Though, his invisibility had been declining over the recent years – he didn't struggle as much to be heard in meetings, and more people were remembering who he was. But, like a bad habit, it made an occasional comeback.

"It'll be fun, Mattie," Alfred insisted, "There'll be a fire, scary stories – smores! You love smores, don't you?"

Matthew gave a defeated sigh, but not because the promise of smores was winning him over. For all his brother's idiocy, he did really like the idea of going camping with the other nations. He wasn't wrong about the anti-social state everyone had fallen into, and he lamented that he had drifted apart from a few of his own friends. They were just so busy – in the absence of war there were many other issues that needed their attention, among dealing with their own national affairs.

"Mattie…" Alfred pouted… and wobbled his lip. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright, I'll come with," he conceded. "But look, next time you try to organise something, you think it through properly, got it?"

"Hells yeah!"

He definitely didn't get it.

"You're lucky I have a heap of camping gear, y'know," Matthew sighed, now satisfied that his living room had been righted. He left the room with Alfred in tow, seeking out the equipment they would need for the trip. Fossicking through the storage space underneath his stairwell, he pulled out a few rolled tarpaulins, stored tents and a couple of cardboard boxes. Alfred stared in slight wonder as his brother produced more supplies from the tiny storage space. Looking down at the box in his arms, he could see a thin layer of dust covering them; a clear indication that they had been hidden away for at least a few years. Words were scrawled over their tops in permanent marker, numerous crossed out and rewritten; the contents had changed over time apparently.

"Where are we going anyway?" Matthew asked from inside the deceptively sized cubby space. He didn't have to ask about the 'how' part, since Alfred had returned that afternoon with a rather suspicious rental mini bus. He grew worried when Alfred didn't reply. He poked his head back out to see his brother staring at the cardboard box like it held the secrets of the universe. "Don't tell me you haven't decided…"

"Well, I had a few places in mind," he admitted, smiling like it wasn't an issue. "Hey, don't give me that look! Besides I think you're gonna love it."

"So where were you thinking?"

"Remember that old place we used to hang out together?" It was a very vague statement – he and Matthew used to hang out at a lot of old places once upon a time. So he elaborated, "Y'know, the one in the woods in that cute valley with the pond," and Alfred could tell from the glimmer in his brother's eyes that he remembered.

"Al, I… surely that place wouldn't still be around," Matthew said sceptically, his gaze grew distant. "It's been… decades. And I'm pretty sure that 'pond' was actually a lake."

"Well, even if that cabin collapsed, it'd still be a great place, don't you think?"

Something about Matthew's expression said he felt otherwise, or at least was uncertain. Alfred put it down to concerns over whether or not it was in the same condition as they remembered it. Before either of them could say another word, there was a knock at Matthew's front door.

"Oh, that must be everyone!" Alfred placed the cardboard box that he had been cradling down and made for the door. Matthew was glad he had a rather sizeable home, as twelve of his fellow nations gradually made their way indoors, greeting him as they passed with their belongings. Quickly the house had become quite lively and crowded – especially in the hallway where some of the camping equipment was still blocking the way. Matthew gently directed everyone through to the lounge, so as not to have anyone trip over the gear.

"Oh dear, Alfred sprung this on you, didn't he?" Arthur remarked rather apologetically as he noticed the Canadian's slightly overwhelmed demeanour.

"I guess you could say that, yeah…"

"I'm sorry for our intrusion, Matthew," Kiku bowed his head slightly while also trying to avoid being pushed over by a passing Gilbert. "I hope this isn't causing you too much of an inconvenience."

"It's okay, I think this could be a lot of fun," he laughed softly; grateful for the eastern nation's concern.

"If you say so." Arthur didn't seem completely convinced.

"Though, I don't think I've got enough spare beds for everyone…"

⁎✤⁎

The house was quiet by midnight after enough chaos to nearly warrant a visit from the police. Matthew and Alfred managed to make some kind of bed for everyone – leaving the home devoid of any free cushions or pillows. The two were yet to retire themselves. Instead they had opted to go over a couple of maps to plot their destination.

"We could Google Map it, maybe?" Alfred offered in the softest voice he could manage.

"Doubt it'd even be on there, Al." He scrutinised one of the older fold out maps under the dim kitchen counter light. He traced a finger along an insignificant road, "this might be the best way."

"Cool, I'll drive?" Alfred was ready to take the map when there was a frantic bashing sound coming from the hallway. "Is that coming from the front door?"

"At nearly one in the morning?"

"Your cops are slow if they're responding to a noise complaint this… late…" Alfred shrugged, and then paused. His eyes went wide and he made a rather colourful sentence of curses.

"What? What is it?" Matthew asked, but never received an answer as Alfred rushed out of the room. He followed along behind, poking his head around the corner into the corridor.

"I can't believe you actually stooged me," came Jack's all too loud voice. Matthew held back a laugh as he watched the tall Australian enter the house.

"Ssh, everyone's sleeping!" Jack's eyebrows could've gone into orbit at Alfred's bold statement. "And, hey, I didn't stooge you – I just sorta, got carried away by the…" he trailed off, apparently lost for any sort of decent comeback. "Okay I forgot, but you're here now, right?"

"Only 'cause I happened to notice the hotel was practically empty," Jack retorted, and dumped his khaki rucksack onto the floor by the other bags. "I trust y'got everythin' sorted out?"

"Of course, I've always got things sorted," Alfred claimed.

"He's lying; he needs me to figure out where we're even going," Matthew corrected.

"I thought it'd be somethin' like that," Jack nodded. "So where are we headed?"

"Still figuring out those details, if I'm honest…"

"Ah, c'mon Matt, you can't be as hopeless as Al here!" The Australian jived. "Which reminds me, how many people did you manage to invite?"

"You mean take hostage—'' Alfred nudged his brother with his elbow.

"Well it was nine, including me – but somehow by the end of the night we ended up with thirteen…" Alfred said whilst counting out on his hands. "With you, that'll make fourteen."

"Fair dinkum – it's a good thing I brought a lot of beer."

The two brothers leaned over to see behind Jack where a couple of cartons of beer were stacked by the door. Adding it to the already substantial pile of supplies they had accumulated, the trio eventually splintered off for the night.

Matthew settled into bed and cuddled Kumajiro close – his companion polar bear seemingly unaffected by the hubbub that had taken place.

"Nervous?" they asked, twitching their black nose inquisitively. Kumajiro always knew what Matthew was really feeling – he never had to say anything.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he whispered. He didn't know why he felt uneasy. Maybe it was because it had been a long time since they'd done something like this together. Nevertheless, the tension in his gut persisted.

Tomorrow would be a big day, filled with the promise of adventure.