Jikan
He opened his eyes to a black and red horizon. The heavens were filled with blood red clouds that sunk so low they touched the barren, dark ground. He could hear yelling in the distance. He couldn't make out the words. Either they were too far away, or they in a different language. He couldn't really tell. To be honest, he couldn't tell what anything was. Was this reality? Or was it a dream? The acrid scent of smoke filled his nostrils, making his bloodshot eyes water. His body felt like lead; he almost believed that he was paralyzed. But he managed to wiggle his gloved fingers. With that, he built the confidence to push himself off the ground. He finally got a full view of the world in front of him. Lasers shot out for the sky to the ground every so often. He felt the pressure of a spacecraft soar over his head making his blond hair fly all over the place. Italy…Japan, everyone…was gone…He was never the one to cry, but he couldn't help it. He had taken on many powerful nations in his time. Hell…he was fighting the whole world at one time. But this man…he was just too powerful. He overwhelmed everyone in so little time. There was no one to stop him. Even with the eight combined powers, he seized world domination. What have I done? How this man was able to become a nation…who knows? Not even death kept him away from his goals. He knew he was a bad influence from the start. But the man knew how to sway people to his side. He knew how to exterminate his enemies like insects. He could gain power faster than America could gulf down a pile a burgers. Anyone who defied him would be silenced one way or another. There was nothing this nation could do but watch his home be destroyed. This was his fault. This was his punishment for not protecting his friends.
"Hey, Germany!" Italy cried. The blue eyed country looked up from his book. "What is it now, Italy?" He grumbled. "Maybe once you're done reading, you, me, and Japan could play some football!" Germany nodded. "Ja. Ja. Just let me get through this chapter." Japan stood in a corner, stretching. "Yes, but I warn you, I will play extra hard to practice for the Women's World Cup this week. It's me versus America you know." Italy watched him. "You must be very excited, Japan. Being in the finals!" Japan nodded, deep in concentration. "Yes, but excuse me for withholding my enthusiasm. I am very competitive at times." Italy smiled. "Is that so? Then, you and I should have a pasta making contest! We'll make all the dishes! We could make spaghetti, Bolognese, lasagna…" Japan shook his head. "I'm sorry, but pasta isn't my strong suit. Though, I appreciate-" He's not even listening. Why do I bother? Germany closed his book. "I'm ready." Italy continued his list. "…linguini…" Germany sighed in exasperation. "Italy!" He snapped. The Italian stopped. "Would you mind taking the ball outside?" Italy smiled. "No problemo!" He grabbed the ball from the closet and hurried outside. Japan and Germany watched him. Germany shook his head. "I can never understand what goes on in his head." Japan smiled. "I honestly don't think it's meant to be understood." Germany could agree with that. The pasta lover just had no science behind him. He was so spontaneous and unusually good natured. But his strange behavior got them out of many situations. He smiled. He could still remember the time Italy saved the world from the Pictonians by just drawing faces on them. Germany just couldn't imagine where he'd be without his friend…just then, his phone rang. Japan nodded. "We'll be outside waiting." He left the room.
Germany answered. "This is Germany." His boss started yelling into the phone. Germany winced and held the phone away from his ear. "Sir, just calm down! I can't understand a word you're saying! Can you please speak into the receiver properly." His boss seemed to have calmed a little. "Germany, we've got a huge problem. A group of terrorists has established an alliance a group of Neo-Nazis. I don't know what they're planning. But you've got to get this situation under control. I don't think we can afford another World War. Really! We'd be broke!" Germany thought the situation down. "Are there any reports of recent activity since then?" He asked. If they weren't causing any trouble, there wasn't much he could do. He had no idea what he was dealing with, so it would be foolish to rush out and do something without the proper knowledge and preparation. "That's all we know of this terrorist group. I heard, however, that they are trying to recruit Brits for some reason. Germany! Do something!" His boss was starting to get worked up again. "I can't do anything right now. See if you can gather some more information about them. Then, we'll see what I can do." He hung up. He stood in the empty room silently. Neo-Nazis? Brits? What were they planning? He exited the room and started down the hallway. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize he was outside until the sunlight hit his face. He looked up and noticed Japan and Italy were murmuring to each other out in the field. As Germany approached them, they stopped abruptly and turned to him. "What were you guys whispering about?" Italy laughed nervously. Japan waved his hand dismissively. "It is nothing. There is nothing for you to get concerned about." Germany stared at them suspiciously. It didn't seem like nothing. But he surrendered. "All right. There's three of us, so…"
"Hey, losers!" Someone called. They all turned to see Prussia rushing toward them. "You're playing football without the Awesome Prussia!? Unforgivable!" He deliberately barreled into Germany. Germany barely moved. "Hey, West! Why the long face!" Germany frowned. "What are you talking about? Nothing's wrong." Prussia smirked. "Are you gonna talk, or do I have to beat it out of you?" Germany joined Japan and Italy. "We're about to play, we only have three people, so are you-" Before he could finish, Prussia swung his leg and sent the ball flying across the field. "Me and West against you two!" He called as he sprinted down the field. Germany shook his head. Idiot.
