CIAO! It's not like I'm Italian or anything DX…. Anywhozit, this is my first Hetalia story and I hope for it to be a success. I'm not perfect on the characters and I may interpret them differently than you do. So in other words….don't like? Then don't read! ENJOY!

Disclaimer: Yes! I own it! *smacked upside the head* okay, so maybe I don't…

"What exactly are we doing?"

"Spying. Immortals. Said to be nations. Immortal beings." A file was tossed.

Fingers shuffled through the papers. "Seems interesting enough." Eyes looked over the bush. "Who's this one?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt. Claims to be Prussia."

There was a pause. "That's not a country anymore."

Lips tugged into a smile. "He's still here. And hasn't aged. He's perfect."

GERMANY'S POV

"West! Wait up!" Prussia yelled, running down the hall towards his brother, attempting to get to the elevator before it closed.

Germany sighed inwardly. He loves his brother, he really does. But what he didn't understand why he insisted on coming to meetings with him. It's not like he had politics or an economy to worry about. Still, he held the door open for him.

"Thanks." Prussia said, stepping inside.

"You're welcome." Germany said. Prussia wasn't even properly dressed for a meeting. He simply wore a t-shirt that said 'MOFO, I'm Awesome!' black jeans, and a pair of red converse. Germany sighed again. The elevator ride was silent as Germany made his observations. A ding sounded, signaling the end of the trip. The two walked into the meeting room, Prussia exclaiming how awesome he is. Yep, it's a completely normal day.

PRUSSIA'S POV

Twenty minutes later, Prussia found himself outside the oak doors of the meeting room, muttering about English people not knowing how to take a joke. Pulling out his wallet, he walked up to a vending machine. Grabbing the bag of chips that fell from the glass box, he walked outside.

Going in no particular direction, the building the meeting was being held in, soon went out of sight. He sighed; uncharacteristically distressed. A flicker of sadness passed his features, thinking about what England had said as he ran him out of the room. He knew full well he wasn't exactly a country anymore. Shit, he hasn't been for a while. But is the only insult England can come up with?

He shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it anymore. He's the awesome Prussia! And he could take anything that was thrown at him. I'm awesome, I'm awesome, I'm awesome, I'm – his thought train was derailed when a cloth was clasped over his nose and mouth. What the fuck?! He thrashed, blindingly punching at air. His mind began to fog and his punches weakened, his eyes tearing up. It didn't last very long and soon his body went limp.

"So what's this one?" another file was thrown.

"Lovino Vargas. Claims to be South Italy."

"Italy's reunited. Sooo… he's not supposed to exist?"

A smile stretched across cracked lips. "Exactly."

ROMANO'S POV

Romano didn't even bother to go to the meeting, so he ended up waking up somewhere around noon. Sunlight poured into his hazel eyes, and he squeezed them shut, attempting to go back into his dream world with the pretty bella. The dream wouldn't return, having already started to fade from memory. Romano opened his eyes again, and growled from low in his throat. The day had already started off on a ugly note.

Scowling at the sun, he swung his legs over the bed and walked to the bathroom, grabbing his towel as he went. He stripped, got in and washed. A good ten minutes later, he was drying his hair and brushing his teeth. Not really caring about appearance today, he put on a pair of blue jeans and a tee-shirt that said 'Imma just need you to shut the eff up.'; a shirt he got from Alfred. Grabbing a tomato from the basket kept by his door, he headed out.

The sun was bright, as he had already figured out. The grass was green and the sky was blue. Well, as blue as it could get in New York. Romano groaned, longing to see the blue sky of Italy. Three more days Romano, you can do it.

He had barely walked for five minutes when he felt a shudder go through him. Somebody was following him, there had to be, he could feel it. Looking over his shoulder. Doing the natural thing, he began walking faster. Dumbass! You're overreacting! He mentally chided himself, feeling like an idiot. He turned into an alley, immediately finding himself at a dead end. Fucking stupid! He heard footsteps. Shit. He looked around; there was nothing for him to defend himself with. Turning completely around, he saw two men. One of them raised a stick. It hit him in the back of his head, knocking the nation unconscious.

*whistles* Not my best first chapter, shoot, it's only 700 words. But I hope it caught your interest nonetheless. I promise it'll get better. And if it doesn't then…sowwy for wasting your time. To be honest, I have the ending done. It's completely finished, like the last four chapters. ...It's the beginning that's giving me a hard time. Remember to review; I need to know what people think! Although, don't freaking shoot me down when I barely started flying. (Oh…I like that.)

Anyway, in case you haven't figured it out. There is a world meeting that is taking place in New York. Have fun!