A Day in the Life of the Axis

So imagine that Italy, Germany, and Japan all keep a diary. What do they record? How do they view a typical Axis day? (Really more like three days, they each get their own day to record.)

Chapter 1: Japan's Diary

Dear Diary,

Last night I dreamed about China-san finding me in the woods. I still remember that day; however, the dreams are always more vivid than the memory itself. "What's your name, aru?" he asked me, bending down to meet my eye level. I opened my mouth to respond.

"Japan," an automated voice rudely interrupted my memory-dream. "Time to wake up." Some alarm, huh? I sighed and turned off my phone, preparing to start the day. I had a light breakfast with some green tea and stretched to prepare for Germany-san's rigorous training. I've actually come to enjoy it. Ever since leaving China-san, I've always been on my own, and preferred the peace and quiet of being completely alone. I still do, but I've really come to love my friends. Germany-san understands antisocial behavior and finds me somewhat relatable, whereas Italy-san is loud and friendly enough to bring us both out of our shells.

When I got to Germany-san's house Italy-san was already eating his second bowl of pasta. Germany-san's dogs ran to greet me, which always makes me happy. I like dogs; they are friendly without making one carry on a conversation. Cats I like best, however, because they often want to be alone as much as I do.

Anyway, we started our training, during which Italy-san got a stomachache from eating too much pasta right before he ran, tripped over his shoes, which had come untied, had them tied by Germany-san (for the second time today), and for perhaps the thousandth time, each time expecting a different result, which China-san once told me was the definition of insanity… demonstrated to us the usefulness of white flags in battle.

After Italy-san was shut up with some gelato and Germany-san took a large dose of aspirin, we all had lunch together. Sometimes I wonder if Italy-san has a house. I mean, I know he does, but unless we're actually in his country, he always spends the night at Germany-san's. Then he'll have a nightmare and sneak into the bed while Germany-san is asleep (out of innocence, I promise, he is like a little child), and Germany-san wakes up in the morning all angry and flustered but he lets Italy-san stay because no one can really bear to see the sweet Italian cry. Besides, I sense that he has come to accept his role as Italy-san's older brother figure.

Later that day Germany-san's brother stopped by because he had left his "awesome jacket" here. Prussia-san is a most unique individual, and I will try as best I can to describe him. He is very narcissistic and full of himself, and he has a fat little yellow bird that flies around his head. I do not know how he stands it; every time I have to talk to him I feel dizzy watching the little creature go round and round in circles. In addition to all this, he is albino. Prussia-san, not the bird. He has this strange "kesesese" laugh and no longer comes to world meetings because he is technically no longer a nation, though he refuses to see this. He is rather intimidating, and one never really knows what he is going to do next.

Well, after pestering his poor brother to his wit's end, he left, and I was ready to go home and rest, so I announced that I would leave too. But Italy-san made a pitiful, pleading face and begged me to stay, and Germany-san told me I was welcome if I wanted to. I figure sometimes that I need to get out more, so I ended up staying for dinner. Germany-san wanted to use ninja stars, so I showed him some but explained to him that they are not actually traditional weapon choices of ninjas, they are really more for movies, and sharpened chopsticks make much more effective weapons. This disappointed Germany-san somewhat, but he was still excited to hold one. Italy-san's eyes lit up to the point where they actually opened, and instantly he had gone into what America-san called his "ooh-shiny" mode. Soon there was a crash and Italy-san's hand was bleeding and something expensive was broken, so I, once again sensing the mood and refraining from speaking, I put away the throwing stars and helped Germany-san clean up. After Italy-san's hand was bandaged and Germany-san had taken as much headache medication as was healthy, we had some dinner. I left, and I have a feeling that Italy-san will stay up later than Germany-san and spend the night without the latter realizing it until tomorrow.

Now I'm back home; I've finished watching three episodes of SwordArt Online and fed the cats (the latest was, of course, a present from Greece-san). I enjoy having my own home; it's peaceful and relaxing. Tomorrow is another any of training and I have to get up early again so I think I will put down this diary for tonight. I wonder if I will dream about China-san again.

Later, having awoken in the night

I didn't dream about China-san. I dreamed about Russia-san's sister, the crazy one. It was not a pleasant dream.

Chapter 2: Germany's Diary

Dear Logbook,

I will NOT call you a diary. I do not care if even Prussia uses the term. It sounds like... well, what he described the action as... "writing in it like a silly junior high girl". Why would that make me want to use it?

Oh, well. I suppose I'll talk about my day or whatever people do in these. I woke up with Italy in my bed, as usual, murmuring "Ve" in his sleep. I would never speak this aloud to a single soul, but even though he can be a pest I see Italy as being like one of those baby angel statues, innocent and cherubic. The truth is, I let him spend the night here because I'd worry about him if he were on his own... or with his brother Romano, who makes it his mission in life to torment me.

I used to like a girl when I was very young, a girl called Italia who was very much like Italy. But many things have happened since then, and I wasn't going to let anybody into my life until I met Italy, and now I feel like I am an older brother to him. I have to tie his shoes every day, and it's really quite exhausting having to babysit him all the time. He is so loud and easily distracted and very accident-prone. For instance, until earlier today I used to have glass doors, but I quickly learned that they were not going to stay with Italy around. I mean, I can understand running into a glass door, but that wasn't dramatic enough for Mr. Make-Pasta-Not-War. No, he ran straight through it. And as I was cleaning the glass and taking care of Italy's cuts, France and England invaded and I had to drive them out by myself and stop Italy from surrendering. So now I have a regular wooden door like everyone else, although with Italy around it might be safe to have metal doors with padlocks.

So after all that died down Japan came over for training. I used to be wary of having friends; the truth is I have always been shy, and though everyone sees me as the strict, gruff commander, my stomach turns in a crowded room and I just wait for whatever event to be over. But Japan I do not have such troubles around. He is rather similar to me in this, and he senses the mood and refrains from speaking. Whereas Italy is a tornado of energy and emotions and I am constantly stressed or nervous about something, Japan is the calm, levelheaded one among us. I am the team leader, true, but I think without Japan's quiet strength we would not be half as well off in our alliance as we are. World War II is long over and we are even friends with America now, but the bond the three of us have formed is unbreakable. And it's nice to have such trusty allies without all the stress of fighting over the planet. I keep saying allies... but now it is time I said friends, because that is what we are.

But still, we are always prepared for battle. Japan is excellent in training, swift and agile and calculated in his motions. Italy, however, is his usual weak, sidetracked self. Oh, Italy. He really is a pain sometimes. How does he not remember how to tie his shoes after all this time? And he still does not understand the concept of not surrendering. Oh well, at least he is a good cook. Truthfully, other than baked sweets, I really have not made much food since Italy came along. Because, when you have an Italian in your kitchen, why do the cooking for him?

We watched some ninja movie Japan brought over, and like he said, it was full of throwing stars. Whenever I watch movies like that, the childlike part of me wants to be a ninja and throw things from rooftops in the middle of the night. Japan let me keep one of his ninja stars, and now it is hanging from my wall. Italy likes it because it is shiny, but I like it because, when no one is around to see me behave so unprofessionally, I play with it and pretend I'm a ninja on some dangerous mission and save the world and meet a pretty lady.

What did I just write? Mein gott, other than the danger part I almost sound like Italy! I didn't expect to write this much...

But... it's kind of fun.