((This isn't in anyone's POV in particular.))


It was June 8th, 2013. The meeting that day had been at least five or six hours long. It had been full of many emotions; happiness in remembering the good times, sadness and hurt when the bad times were mentioned. Memories filled the room, and each one had given the representatives from each country something to say. Even the quietist of countries- Matthew for Canada, Ivan for Russia- spoke up to tell stories. But unfortunately, the most common recollections were of the worst of times- war between countries, even siblings and close friends.

During the mention of the Revolutionary War, for once the loud American rep Alfred was silenced. Tears could be seen slowly welling up in the eyes of both Alfred and the British representative, Arthur, as they seemed to remember parts of the war only they knew about. Francis offered the best sympathy he could muster up, but the dark moment of silence couldn't seem to be interrupted. Eventually, Alfred and Arthur started apologizing to each other. There were tears falling down everyone's face- the scene was so sad, watching the two brothers forgive their past of this, the War of 1812 was silently skipped over.

Following that was the First World War. That discussion was filled with regret, especially from the German side. But then again, nothing compared to World War Two.

It was Alfred who brought it up- he had said it almost casually, "WW1 may have been tough, but what about that second one?", as many of the older (and more war-experienced) countries looked at him in shock. How could he speak of something so horrible in such a calm tone? Almost coinciding immeadiatly with his words, three heads around the room suddenly became extremely interested in their shoes. Those three heads were seated right next to each other in a little row- Ludwig of Germany, Feliciano of Italy, and Kiku Honda of Japan. They had been almost insepreble since that war, but of course it was a huge shame that was commonly thrust upon their shoulders. Kiku was trying to be as silently dignified as he could be. The Northern Italian representative, Feliciano Vargas, had tears streaming down his cheeks and dropping upon those leather work shoes he was so facinated in, tiny little sobs jerking his shoulders. It seemed that the tears of the Italian were what it took to crack the German, although Lovino's reaction was no help.

"Choose your words carefully, you Americano bas-" Before Feliciano's brother could finish his little comment, Ludwig set a hand on Lovino's shoulder.

Directing his words at Alfred, but keeping his eyes on the forlorn Italian brother, Ludwig said firmly to the younger country, "Show some self control, if you would. Not everyone won in this war like you did." Feliciano's sobs could now be heard clearly from every side of the table, as it became the only sound it the room. No one moved, said anything, but even the great Ludwig's eyes were becoming a bit wet with memories.

Alfred, seeming to be in a state of slight regret (odd for such a hero...), scooted his wheelie chair backwards silently. He stood up, and, all the while, not looking anyone in the eye, walked over to the small Italian representative. Feli appeared not to notice at first, but a silent gasp was heard when Alfred threw his arms around the shoulders of poor little Feliciano Vargas.

"I'm so sorry sir, I did not mean to upset you."

Even Feli's head jerked up at this, his mouth slightly agape in shock. "S-sir?"

"Yes sir, you are an elder to me. So of course I will adress you as so," Alfred was giving the Italian rep a little hint of a smile while he spoke, comforting Feli. With that, Al rose back up and seated himself back in his respective seat.

Silence again encased the room, soon broken again by the words of the now cheered-up Talian, "You don't have to call me that Mr. Alfred~ It's okay, you didn't mean to!" Feliciano was now once again head up, bouncing lightly in his seat. Tints of angry red were still splashed on Romano's face. Luckily, that was the end of the conversation.

The other wars were politely skipped over, as America stood up at the head of the table to speak to the other countries, "So everyone, there was a point to this! As you all know we will be having some much-needed renovations done to the meeting building for the next few weeks, and I thought we could use some of our extra money to create a memory... Something!" He grinned, as everyone expected him to say what the thing was, but there was an awkward quiet as he did not continue.

"Well...What is it then?" The French man questioned.

"That's what we need to figure out!" Alfred responded.

Arthur facepalmed, "You git, you're going to announce it even when you haven't thought it through?"

"Nooo, we're going to make suggestions and then vote!" America beamed in response to the Brit.

Unfortunately, as these words were spoken, the reps took this as a cue to start yelling out their suggestions.

"A picutre!"

"No, a painting!"

"A statue of the awesome me, of course!"

Hands were flailing and people were jumping up, trying to catch Alfred's attention- but this only angered the country. "Everyone sit down now!" He yelled at them, trying to look as intimidating a s possible. Hands were put down, and everyone sat back down on their chairs calmly. But, in this, one hand was still respectively raised, waving just a bit at America.

Alfred sighed, "Yes, Feliciano, what is it?"


I'll leave you guys with that! This was originally going to be a oneshot, but I thought it through and I decided on making one more chapter to this. Sorry if anyone was expecting another chapter for my first story, it took me a while to figure out I needed to check it as complete .

Thanks for reveiws favorites and foolows, keep reading lovelies :)