Title: Truly An Act of Heroism
Request: "(Are requests still open?) I would like to request something with Belarus eating potatoes. Because she consumes the most of them per capita in the world, you know~! (wow, my identity is totes not obvious... .)" "Hello! Mm. Do you mind some America and Belarus?" "Some America and Germany interaction? Nothing shippy!"
Author: TinaBanina96

Truly an Act of Heroism

Lunchtimes at world meetings were always hectic. Some nations would choose to stay at the meeting place and enjoy the catering provided by the host. Others would venture outside, in small parties, or alone, and take advantage of the local cuisine.

Of course, there were also those that brought their own food, no matter how far they had travelled.

So when America found an unattended lunchbox left on the big table in the board room (where this meeting in Germany had been held), of course he had assumed that some nation was missing it. That poor, lunchless nation had probably brought their food with them all the way from like Africa or something… the thought of any nation going hungry for even like a few hours made America sad.

The heroic thing to do would be to return the lunchbox, and damn it, America was a hero if not anything else.

America picked up the lunch box and scanned the room. It seemed like most of the nations had left the premises, leaving those that remained in scattered groups around the boardroom.

Of those that remained, most were enjoying the spread of food that Germany's caterers had laid out. The others were mainly sitting around peacefully eating their own food.

"Shut up Spain! Idiota!"

"Calm down Romano!"

Oh right. Spain and Romano. America could hear their argument (if you could call the older Italian yelling at Spain an argument) all the way across the room.

"You let my brother go off with that potato munching freak by himself? What if they do something stupid? What if he eats German food and dies of food poisoning or something?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine mi querido! German food is not that bad, and Germany left his lunch here anyway!"

America's ears practically perked up. Of course! It was Germany's lunchbox! With caution, he approached the two Europeans.

"Hey! I heard you guys say something about Italy going off with Germany? Do you know where they went?"

"What's it to you?" Romano glared at the intrusive American with a fury that would make England at his angriest proud. Spain patted the Italian on the back and made little soothing noises.

"Relax Romano. Hola America! I think Germany and Italy just went outside for a moment. You'll probably find them out by the entrance."

"Don't tell him where they are damn it!" America heard Romano yell as he thanked Spain and sprinted outside. Sure enough, he found who he was looking for.

"Italy! Germany! There you guys are!" he grinned. The two nations in question were sitting together on a bench by the entrance, the Italian talking away while the German listened quietly. At America's arrival, Italy transferred his attention to him.

"America! Ciao! Why are you here?" Italy beamed at America, who grinned back.

"I just need to talk to Germany for a second! I think I have something of his!"

"Hmm… you have something of mine?" Germany asked, eyebrows furrowed. "What is it?"

"Well you see I was in the boardroom and I noticed this lunchbox right? So I totally picked it up and asked around about it. Romano told me it was yours so then I asked where you were and Spain told me you were here but then Romano got all mad about it and – oh damn it!"

America stopped in the middle of his mile a minute speech. He'd forgotten to bring the lunchbox with him.

"Be right back guys!" he exclaimed, before running back into the building, leaving behind a confused looking Germany and an oblivious Italy.

When he returned with the lunchbox firmly in his hand, he presented it to Germany with a flourish.

"Here you go!"

"What is that?" asked Germany, looking at the proffered container skeptically.

"Germany! I think America is giving you a present! Say thank you Germany!" Italy clasped his hands together in what America took to be delight.

"No it's not a present. Just returning what is rightfully his!"

"This isn't my lunchbox America."

"But… Spain said it-"

"I didn't bring lunch today. Since I was hosting, I simply ate the food provided by the caterers. That was, I was going to- "

"But I convinced him to come and eat pasta with me!" Italy chirped. Germany gestured at two small containers resting next to where the Italian was sitting.

"Oh." America took in the information. "So… whose lunch box is it?"

"Why don't you a have a look inside?" Italy suggested. "Isn't that the best way to figure this out Germany?"

"That is an awesome idea! I can't believe I didn't think of it myself!"

America opened the lid to the lunchbox to the sound of Germany's protesting.

The box contained some kind of… potato dish? America had never seen it before in his life.

"Dude… what is this?"

Germany sighed and leaned over to take a look.

"I believe it is a Slavi-"

"Where is it Lithuania? I swear… if I do not find it…"

Germany's sentence was interrupted by the sound of an angry female voice. America looked around, searching for the source, and spotted the owner of the voice.

Russia's sister (the crazy one with the name like that Twilight girl) was standing a little way away, shouting in an absolutely terrifying and oddly creepy way at a seemingly scared Lithuania.

"I made that lunch especially to share with brother! Lithuania-"

Wait? Russia's insane-ass sister was missing her lunch? It had to be her lunchbox then!

"Yo! Bella Swan!" yelled America, running away from Germany and Italy, who had started their meal.

Russia's sister turned around and stopped yelling. She glared at America, and Lithuania shot him a grateful look.

"What did you call me?"

"Ms. Belarus… I think he's made a mistake."

Belarus. Right. That was it. America held up the lunchbox.

"I think this is-"

"Thieving pig! How dare you steal from me! I will cut your-"

"Woah! Calm down! I found it alright? You left it in the boardroom."

Belarus narrowed her eyes and focused all of her attention onto America. Lithuania glanced at America, before quietly leaving.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Why would I want to steal your lunch?"

"Because you wish to spite brother Russia by any means necessary."

"Not sure where you've gotten this idea from, but the Cold War is like waaaaay over."

"I still do not believe you."

"It's not heroic, or awesome to steal, and I am both those things."

"Give it back to me."

"Say thank you! It's totally the polite thing to do or something!"

America could see Belarus getting more and more frustrated. She was kind of scary cute when frustrated.

Actually, just scary. The big giant knife that she'd seemingly pulled out of thin air wasn't helping.

"… Thank you. Now give it back! I must take this to my brother."

"Hate to be the one to break it to you, but Russia went out for lunch with your other sister. The one with the ginorm-"

"You are lying! Brother would never leave me here!"

America winced. Was it just him, or was Belarus looking more and more unstable?

"Um… you could eat the lunch yourself?"

The two nations stood there in uncomfortable silence while Belarus pondered the suggestion, all the while staring icily at America.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Belarus spoke.

"Thank you." she said bluntly, before walking away. America frowned. Well wasn't that just all grateful and kind?

Before he could think, America found himself running after her, waving his arms wildly.

"Hey! Wait up!"

"What do you want?"

Belarus span around on the heel of her foot quickly. America stopped himself from smashing into her just in time.

"Woah!"

"Why are you following me?"

"Ugh… Um…" America scratched his head absentmindedly. "What's in there anyway?"

"…"

"…"

"It is babka."

"And that is?"

"Why do you care?"

"Just curious as to what I saved you from losing!"

Belarus's face remained impassive, as she took a look around. Noticing a small bench, she sat down.

America, after a moment of consideration, sat down next to her hesitantly and watched as Belarus opened the lunchbox.

"What is babka? Looks like pie to me!"

"It is grated potato pie. Now leave me alone."

"Can I have some?"

That day, America learned what many nations before him had already known.

Never, ever, ask Belarus for something she meant to give to her beloved brother.

This was originally meant to be a request for the Easter Fan Event… but with the event long over I felt like having this finished oneshot sitting on my laptop unpublished was terrible, so I figured I'd upload it!