Please forgive me, but alas, I have started a new story. I have a really bad attention span- but I have an excuse this time! I'm sick. And this is the result.
A little bit of an explanation first... so you know how you see those pictures with the adult country and themselves as a child? I don't actually think I've seen any for anyone besides Russia... becauseispendalldaylookingupRussiafanart..kesesese... BUT ANYWAY. I love those pictures. And I also love the stories when nations get turned into chibis... SO I THOUGHT I'D COMBINE THE TWO. AND I PRESENT YOU THIS. THIS CRAPPILY TITLED... THING.
Also, this is going to be fairly lighthearted. (Did I spell that right?) I sorta need something happy in my life, and I'm not going to concentrate too much on this, since it's basically sort of loosely connected oneshots maybe kinda. This is my first try at this sort of thing. And please forgive me for rambling on. As I said, I'm sick.
ON TO THE STORY, before I bore you anymore. This is what happens when I'm sick.
(Hetalia and all it's amazing characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya)
Chapter One- The End (of My Usual Life)
England was furious. And it was all America's fault. The younger nation had barged though the front door of his house, holding two plastic boxes under his arms- one containing hamburgers, the other cans of soft drink.
"Dude! Party in five!" he shouted, half running, half walking to the kitchen to put down the heavy boxes. England was about to ask him why the hell he was here, and what the hell he meant, when Prussia and Australia ran through the open front door too.
"Kesesese! The awesome me has brought beer und wurst!" the albino shouted, following America to the kitchen.
"I brought normal sausages too! Where's the barbie?!" yelled Australia, carrying two Woolworth's plastic bags, full of multiple trays of sausages.
"I don't have one..."
"Seriously?!"
"Nice to see you, too, Kyle," England spat, as the brunette ran straight past him into the kitchen.
Denmark led the other (somewhat reluctant) Nordics into the house, bringing more beer.
Poland and Lithuania were the only ones to enter the house normally. (Poland had dragged poor Lithuania along.) The blonde was chatting Lithuania's ear off, whilst he did nothing but smile or nod and shake his head when required.
Within minutes, loud, fast paced electronic party music was playing throughout the bottom floor of the house. Nearly all of the nations were present, and the noise was unbelievable. England had been to some of America's parties, and he knew full well that they continued on well into the night. By now, he had no chance of stoping it. (He made plans to bring his neighbours apology scones, in return for not calling the police.) A few hours later, America, Prussia and Denmark were drunkenly providing the guests with a (horrible) a capella redition of 'Party Rock Anthem' atop England's dining room table, almost breaking the old piece of furniture with their clumsy shuffling. England only just managed to stop them in time, before the table would collapse. He pulled America into the kitchen, where it was somewhat quieter.
"Git! Why the bloody hell did you throw this at my place?!" he shouted over the din.
"Cause I don't wanna clean it up!" the younger nation replied, laughing obnoxiously. He handed England a glass from the countertop, before running off. He didn't particularly like the idea of being scolded.
England could feel a headache coming on, and glanced at the drink in his hand. ...Why not? he decided, shrugging his shoulders and downing the liquid.
Everyone began to leave after England and America had a huge argument in the centre of the living room, feeling awkward in the presence of the angry ex-brothers. The shouting match ended when America could think of nothing else to say, and stormed out of the house. (Not before shouting "Oh yeah?! W-well... I'm taller than you!")
England stood alone in the centre of the trashed living room, fuming. "Stupid America... I didn't raise him to be like that!" he shouted to no one in particular.
"You could raise him again!" exclaimed a voice that was unaffected by alcohol. England recognised it as Flying Mint Bunny.
"Turn him into a child?! Minty, don't you know how many problems that could cause?" he slurred. He didn't really hate the idea of a child America to look after again...
"Not like that! Isn't there a spell that can bring someone's child self to the present?"
The cogs in England's addled mind turned slowly, but he eventually realised that his friend was right, and stumbled quickly to his basement.
I can have a little brother again...
He ran over to the bookshelf, forgetting about the darkness in the room. Flying Mint Bunny switched it on for him, however, as he reached the bookshelf. He scanned the shelves, managing to pull out the correct tome. Flying Mint Bunny had to find the correct page, as the nation's vision was too blurry. He set up the candles on the floor instead.
He stumbled back to the front of the pentagram, took the spellbook from his friend and began to chant.
A few tries later, he was determined to get it right. Usually, he'd have the spell over and done with by now, but his mind was slowed and his speech slurred by alcohol.
I'll get it this time... bloody hell... Russia better not stuff it up again...
By this point, some of his friends had gathered. It was hilarious how he cursed at the book when he got the incantation wrong.
Eventually, he was successful, and he and the crowd watched with bated breath as a small, glowing figure appeared in the centre of the pentagram. They expected to see a young America, but the child asleep on the floor was not quite what England had expected.
Even his bloody child self gets in the way of my spells!
Russia woke with a start when his head slipped off the back of the lounge, onto the armrest. In his sleep, he had somehow moved into this uncomfortable position. He sat up and yawned. I didn't mean to fall asleep... he mused, switching off the TV. In this late hour, it had begun to play old reruns.
He was about to head off to bed (he was still tired from meetings with his boss, and some other countries.) when there was an irritated-sounding rapping at the front door. As he approached it, he glanced at the clock. 2AM? Who would be visiting now?
He opened the door to find an irate England, holding something in a blanket.
"Oh, privyet, Engl-"
"I don't want your bloody chit-chat! This is your problem now!" the shorter nation shouted, thrusting the blanket into his arms. "And stop messing with my spells!" he yelled, staggering down the street. he didn't know how to send the child back, so this was his solution.
"Do you want me to call you a taxi...?" Russia called out to him, confused. There was no reply from the Brit. No one should walk around in the cold at night... oh well. He can manage. He closed the door, shuddering from the cold. He could hear England yell at a car outside. Maybe I should've asked if he'd like to come in... Lili said America was having a party tonight, so that explains why he's drunk... Now, let's see what this is... he thought, looking at the bundle in his arms.
He almost dropped it when it stirred, but was glad he didn't when he saw it had a face.
W-what?!
The child... it was him... but... how could that be? He was here, an adult. ANd yet, in his hands was a child version of himself...
What did England do to send a child version of me here...? Or... maybe it's just a coincidence? That has to be it... I'm too tired for this... I'll deal with it in the morning...
He walked slowly up the stairs, entering one of the (now) empty bedrooms to place the child... himself...? in one of the (now) empty beds, before heading to his room.
So... that was the first chapter... sort of a prologue, maybe... You see, this is the downside of being sick. (Then again, the only upside is no school.) I really wasn't sure how to start this off, and re-wrote it three times.
Thank you for reading, and please review, telling me what you think, any errors, any ideas (I have some, but more are VERY welcome.)
Oh yes. As for pairings... this will probably have none. But if you guys are fine with it... heh heh heh... well, those who know me will know what pairing there will be. (To those who don't- she was mentioned in this chapter.) If you guys don't want pairings, then my OTP will just be a friendship. And that's fine with me. They're cute either way.
And if anyone can help me think of a better title, it would be very much appreciated. (I'll give you credit for it- same as ideas.)