This is a Hetalia Axis Powers/World Series fanfic, written along with my friend Remmirath, and as the site won't allow us to post as co-writers, she's posting it in Portuguese, and I will slowly translate and post it in English too.
Hetalia anime, mangas and comics (c) Hidekaz Himaruya. Along with the canon characters, this story works with a large cast of OCs that, we hope, will please the readers. For better comprehension, we advice the reading of my other fanfic, "A stop by to Russia".
If you already read it, you'll probably notice a change in the way of narrative (3rd person now), but, I hope, not a change in the quality, at least not for worse.
The cover image was made by us modifying this image we found in Zerochan and don't know the owner. Please, if you did it and want us to remove, just say it. We'll do it, we're not art stealers.
A Tyrolean screamed in the fields, louder than the roosters calling the morning. Because of it, Doitsu woke up, in spite of the heavy head for having ingested beer last night. To kill the hangover at once, he filled a basin with cold water and plunged his head into it. Ah! Better. Now he could think.
He dressed up carefully, with sober, harmonious and grey clothes. He combed, then, his hair, while frying sausages, which almost burnt while Doitsu followed on in the quest for the perfect parting. He swallowed the food, listening to the radio. Hm, problems with the gas ducts – the only thing that Russia was worthy for, and even this he couldn't do properly! "Well, well, in the end of the afternoon I pass by there in the border to solve this question", he mentally noted to himself, departing to the factory.
It was another calm day, full of metal, solder and noise, camaraderie in the refectory, and more noise, which he puffed with Rammstein in the headphones. There was not much difference, but he did not notice.
The bell rang, and the workers left the factory, humming, whistling, talking, and already settling who would pay for the beer that night. Distracted, Doitsu had even forgotten the issue of the gas pipelines, until he decided to light a cigarette, and, by association of ideas – fire, gas – he began to head for the border, with a bored snap of the tongue.
Doitsu was guided to the neighborhood of Frankfurt by the unpleasant smell. There, between a field and a forest, just upon the frontier line, there was a huge gasworks. Getting close, Germany whistled – a spark there, and we would have a new Chernobyl. Leaving the metal briefcase on the floor, he pulled a mask from it and wearing it, he entered the plant.
There were some Russians there. Without masks – Germany goggled –, they were trying to fix some holes and collapsed machines, they even had intelligence enough for it, but no organization at all, so it wasn't working. Keeping calm, Doitsu opened the machine and found that the problem was simply a tiny gear, which was locked. Meanwhile, the Russians had managed to replace the broken pipes, and the problem was solved before the sunset.
Very pleased with himself for having solved the problem, Doitsu decided to make a longer way home, a walk into the woods, also in order to detoxify. Even inside the forest there was gas, yet the trees had absorbed the biggest part. The little animals were still hidden.
Walking with the head high, and therefore, without looking at the ground, Doitsu ended up stumbling seriously. He swore, as his briefcase flew feet away. Turning to discover the cause of his stumbling, he encountered a body. No, it was not a corpse, at least at first glance. Drawing his pistol, he cautiously approached the obstacle, tiptoeing. No good was reserved for the joker, if they were trying to play him a prank – they would become a sieve.
The body was lying on its side with a huge backpack. Using the toe, Germany turned it, and uttered an exclamation of surprise. It was a girl! Medium height, powerfully built, light skin and curly hair. She had fallen weirdly over the huge backpack, glasses askew on her face, and a rip in the black blouse with a print of the band Blind Guardian. Here and there were some bruises, including in the face, produced by the trees' branches. She was breathing.
Doitsu leaned down, and still with gun ready, he gently nudged the girl on the left shoulder. She shuddered but did not wake, then Germany nudged her again, a little harder, and the girl sat quickly, looking frightened, twitching her fist aloft as if holding a dagger. Doitsu jumped back.
– Who are you? – both of them asked at once. – What do you want with me? – again.
– I ask it – Doitsu exclaimed, bothered –, you are in my house!
– I'm not in anyone's house, this is a forest – the girl answered, drily, rubbing her head. She closed her eyes, dizzy. – Fudge.
Calmer now, realizing that she represented no threat (immediate, at least), Doitsu put the pistol back in the holster, reaching out to help the curly-haired to stand up. The forest was dark, but still a little bit of light was filtered through the canopy of trees here and there, light that, hitting Doitsu's face when he straightened up, caused in the stranger an exclamation of astonishment.
– What is up? – he asked, looking around, when he saw her cover her mouth with the hand.
– Erika! – called the outsider, not answering, hardly able to pluck her disbelieving eyes from the German's face and turn around herself. – Erika, look at that! Heck, where are you?
– Who are you searching for? – Doitsu asked, suspicious.
– My friend… – the girl babbled, still searching. – We were coming back from the cinema, and suddenly…
– There was no one here but you – the German guy informed. The girl picked a mobile phone from her backpack, trying to call a number. For her frustrated expression, she wasn't succeeding.
– Argh! This darned Tim[1] never has signal reception!
– Tim? – Germany echoed, puzzled. After, deciding to drop this topic, he proceeded – Anyway, you have not told me who you are and what you are doing in my domains – he said, unsmiling. – What is your name?
–... Remmirath – she answered, after a while.
– Right, Remmirath. Unless you want to be attacked by foxes or other unpleasant animals, you cannot stay here, especially now, at night. My house is not far. We could go there, where you will recover from whatever happened to you, and you will tell me all about it – he said. He didn't ask if she would agree with that; he wouldn't give her this option. "If she is a spy, I'll better keep her under custody", he thought.
– …err… right – Remmirath exclaimed, shrugging and following Germany, which was already walking in rapid march. – Ouch! – she shouted, then, with a grimace of pain, when she stepped with the right leg. A joint had dislocated.
Wordlessly, Doitsu went to her, took the backpack from her back, throwing it over his own shoulder, and offered an arm for support, helping the lost girl in her way out of the forest.
[1] Brazilian cell phone operator, popular yet known for having the worst signal reception