Alfred F. Jones: America
Arthur Kirkland: England
A bored and frustrated Arthur was sitting in his usual spot across from Alfred's seat. As usual Alfred was in the front of the room rambling on about their war strategies, and writing his ideas down on the green chalkboard. Arthur was trying his best to pay attention, but how could he when the only thing Alfred would talk about was himself; his war strategies never included him, and to be honest he was getting sick and tired of always losing to him. Sure there was a point in time when the only thing Arthur would think about was Alfred, his cute and innocent little brother, but the moment Alfred demanded independence from Arthur he eliminated him from his heart—or so he'd like to believe.
Even now after over 100 years he hasn't changed a bit. Well he may be hotter now, but I didn't really consider him hot back then. I mean he's–he was–my brother. I did think he was the cutest thing in the world, but of course every older sibling thinks that about their younger siblings' right? I mean it's not like I fancy him or anything, that's impossible. What the bloody hell are you thinking Arthur? You can't be thinking like this. He's not your brother anymore. He's an independent country now, and he doesn't like you anymore. You know he probably hates you. But why?He left me, if anything I should hate him. Although none of that matter anymore, what's been said and done can't–His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a really loud and obnoxious noise, oh wait it was just Alfred.
"Okey, like I said before, the sweet attack plan I designed can't possibly fail! Dude, how could we fail if we use our strengths in the best way possible? Russia, you give me your weapons, France, you give up without a fight, and Arth–err… I mean England...You... Um...England..."
"England?" Arthur snapped impatiently. He didn't mean to sound so aggravated, but everyone was staring at them now. He was all flustered because his embarrassing thoughts were interrupted by the same person who caused them. Alfred just stood there frozen as if a cat had his tongue—damn him and his American sayings—he glared into the dirty blonde's blue eyes hoping to find a clue to why he suddenly stopped talking, and stared at Arthur like he was seeing a ghost or something. What is wrong with him? Not only did he try to cut all ties with me, but now he also wants to make me look like a buffoon in front of everyone, what a wanker. I can't believe I'm getting so flustered over him. Bloody hell Arthur just calm down, just calm down, just calm down… He repeated those words in his mind while staring at a dumbstruck America. Minutes passed by and no one was talking, Arthur couldn't help it anymore and the silent chanting in his mind stopped. A now furious and embarrassed Arthur intensified his glare, but got no response from a still frozen America.
"Apparently I'm not needed here, Mr. Coccydynia* has nothing for me so I'm assuming it's my queue to leave, g'day Russia, frog, America. I'll be leaving now." Arthur spat, and with that Arthur stood up snarling insults directed to Alfred under his breath, fixed his posture, and walked away from the room leaving an unresponsive Alfred, a smiling Russia and a startled frog. Why should I stay? Alfred is annoying, and a git. He isn't my little brother anymore; there is no need to put up with his crap. It's not like there's any important war going on right now, we were just trying to prepare for when anything ever did happen. They surely wouldn't miss me, and there is no bloody way in hell I'm going to put up with Alfred trying to make me look ridiculous. Something is not right with him… Something's not right! He fiercely tried to ignore what his mind was screaming at him. Of course something's not right, Alfred never shuts up, but it's none of my concern anymore. If he wanted someone to look after him he would have stayed by my side, but I guess sometimes asking for the one you love is too much. The one I… Love…
"Well zat was a little overreacted don't ya zink? In my opinion ´e vas mad before ze meeting started, no need tu get sensitive America"
"I don't know what the hell you're talkin´ ´bout frog, heroes don't get sensitive, dumbass"
"Zere's no need to get angry America I vas just saying. You stupid Americans viz bad temper."
"Ya know what I'm leaving to see what's up with Britain; I can't stand to be in the same room as your weak ass anymore."
*Coccynodynia means pain in the butt. I just wanted England to sound smart.
