"Norge!" Denmark burst into Norway's house at 7 in the morning, carrying an Icelandic paper clutched between his fingers. The Norwegian was in his kitchen, pouring some coffee into a mug.
He shot the taller nation a glare. "Annoying Anko…what do you want?"
Since it was only 7 a.m., it was safe to assume Norway hadn't seen the news yet. No sound of a TV rang throughout his house, so if Norway hadn't seen or heard that his little brother was the latest victim, it only made it harder for the Dane.
Denmark swallowed hard, gripping the paper so tight his hand shook. "N-Norway…"
Panic almost flashed across Norway's face, but he controlled his expression just in time. Denmark only called him Norway when it was serious. "A-Anko…?"
"It's…um…" he glanced down to the newspaper in his hands, offering it to Norway for a better explanation.
Norway snatched the paper almost immediately, setting the coffee down on the counter with a loud clunk. His dark blue eyes scanned the print quickly, and as he neared the bottom of the page, the paper began to shake.
"Anko…th-this is just a joke, right?" He asked, holding the paper to his chest and not looking the taller country in the eye. "They wouldn't…"
"Norge," Denmark said firmly, looking down at him with a hand on his shoulder, "they took Ice."
The paper dropped to the floor lightly as Norway's head began to spin. He crashed into Denmark, who was ready with open arms, and tried to stop himself from making any noise. All that came out of Norway's mouth were quiet little sobs as his body twitched in agony.
Even for Denmark, his crying was surprising—he'd expected Norway to cry for the loss of his sibling. But he hadn't seen Norway cry since they were kids. After all, he was such a stoic, emotionless person. And the Dane just didn't know what to do.
He started by hushing him softly and gently wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "Shh, Nor, it's okay…listen, it'll be fine, Ice will come back…"
As if to take the comfort personally, Norway straightened up and wiped his tinted red eyes. He glanced at Denmark, nodded, and said, "…we better get to the world meeting."
"Alright, don't panic everyone, please…settle down, now," Germany sighed in his calmest voice, brushing his hand across a stack of papers. Nations were in hysteria—Iceland was the tenth nation to disappear since the incident began.
"How are we supposed to settle down, you moron?" England cried, gripping the edge of the table angrily. "My former colonies, the second and third biggest nations in the world are missing, and you expect me to be calm?" The British nation began further outbursts, but was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.
"Angleterre," was spoken calmly to England, coming with a look from the sea blue eyes he was supposed to loathe. "Please, Germany is right. Seeing as how Amerique is gone, we should listen to him." France offered him a comforting smile along with a bit of a harsher remark, "Do not think that I am not worried about them, too."
England bit his lip, turning away from the French nation harshly. But he looked up to Germany, as if a signal to continue.
Germany nodded down at him, and then looked forward to the table of remaining countries. "Japan, can you please tell us the last time you saw any of the other Asian nations?"
The smaller man nodded, stood up, and made his way to the front of the table. He drew in a shaky breath, and began to speak. "The last time I saw Im Yong Soo was a week before the incident. He seemed to be acting normal—all he did was ask me where Alfred-san was," Japan's eyes briefly flicked over to England, who was still keeping quiet. "The last time I saw Mei was about half a month before the incident. It was too far back, and I cannot seem to remember that well…" he sighed. "And the last time I saw Yao-san was the day before the incident. Again, like Yong Soo, he seemed to be acting normal…so what it seems is that from this situation, how they were acting before disappearance, it appears they did not know that something was going to happen…"
He trailed off mid-sentence, looking up at the tall, blonde man standing behind him. His brown eyes wavered slightly, and his expression seemed to be pleading to go sit back down. Germany nodded, and Japan quietly sulked back to his seat.
Sitting at the other end of the table, about half way down, the remaining Nordics sat quietly and intently, listening to every word the German had to say. In the middle of his rant, Germany seemed to notice, and raised his eyebrows.
"…Interesting. You four never listen," he thought aloud, watching as all heads turned to Scandinavia. Sweden averted his eyes stubbornly, grunting in response.
"Figures," Prussia leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms with a yawn. "They only care when they lose one of their own…typical North."
"Shut up, Prussia…" Denmark hissed, gritting his teeth and preparing himself to stand. "You lost some friends, didn't you?"
Prussia barked a laugh, nearly losing his balance sitting in his now tipped-backwards chair. "Ha! The awesome me doesn't need friends. It's about time you speak up, 'Mr. King of Northern Europe'," the albino grinned slyly, his expression not faltering when the Dane stood up and strode over to him, enraged.
"Listen," he spat, pointing an accusing finger at the smug Prussian, "this is important to us. Ice is like our little brother. How would you feel if you lost Germany?"
"I think you need to listen, man," the albino sighed, holding his hands out in front of him, as if to literally 'weigh the options'. "Look at my brother, then look at yours. Iceland would definitely be more likely to disappear then fucking West. I mean, look at this guy!" He beamed enthusiastically, motioning to Germany. "West is a fucking tank. Iceland is just some scrawny kid who lives up north with his pet bird."
Denmark sputtered for a second, then grabbed Prussia's collar and screeched in his face loudly, "You bastard!"
Finland, Sweden, and Norway all sat and watched the fight silently, occasionally muttering something to themselves. Finland glanced around nervously to Sweden, then back to the fight. After about two minutes of meaningless bickering, he mumbled quietly, "Sve…don't you think we should do something?"
He shook his head, muttering back, "No…just let them fight it out. Who cares what Denmark does, anyway…"
As if to agree with him, Norway added quietly, "Plus, Finland, this is just Anko…he's just worried about Iceland. God, he's so annoying…"
The Finn listened helplessly as Sweden and Norway exchanged comments about how unbearable putting up with Denmark was, with remarks dating all the way back to Kalmar. Denmark and Prussia's verbal fight was escalating into a physical one, and just before the first punch could be thrown, Finland stood up and shouted, "Stop!"
Almost immediately, the snarky comments and loud arguing ceased as what was left of Finland's outburst rang through the room. The blonde looked over everyone with an unusually irritated expression and added awkwardly, "If you all don't stop arguing, I swear, I'll go home and get my Valmet Rk.62!"
Everyone seemed a bit alarmed at this—especially Sweden. Finland was always an expert guns man, but never threatened anyone with them unless he was really enraged. Denmark hurriedly let go of Prussia's collar, holding his hands up in a form of surrender.
"H-Hey, don't do that, Finland…" he chuckled nervously, sliding in an awkwardly guilty smile. "You know how I feel about guns…"
"I know, Denmark, but I think that was needed," Finland sighed, still slightly frustrated. "Please…listen to yourselves! 10 nations are missing and all you can think about is whose going to go next? You would think that in a time like this we actually attempt to get along…"
Prussia glanced to a clock on the wall just in time to see it tick to 5 o'clock. "Well, I hate to interrupt such a beautiful speech, Finny, but…" he stood up and stretched again, gaining the attention of everyone else in the room, "…it's already 5. Time to go home."
Everyone nodded and agreed that things would be picked up next week at the meeting that was originally going to held in Toronto, but was changed to be held in Frankfurt for the 3rd time in a row. Finland shot daggers at Prussia, which he seemed to catch, and watched him stalk out of the room twice as fast.
The usually sunny and happy country of Spain was now silently heading down the hallway with a poker face, thoughts of the disappeared nations clouding his mind. When he listened closely, he could vaguely hear England shouting at France to 'wait up', and before he knew it, there was a hand on Spain's shoulder.
"'Tonio?" His blonde companion asked with an odd expression. "What is the matter? I have never seen you leave that room without a smile on your face."
"Oh, hey Francis," Spain put on a false smile, hoping to hide his exhaustion with a usual happy face. "What do you mean? Everything's fine."
France sighed, sliding his hand off of his friend. "'Tonio, you have never been a very good liar. Now, please, if you will, stop the act and tell me what is wrong?"
Spain responded with exhaling deeply and loudly, hunching his shoulders over depressively. His fake grin dissolved from his face immediately as he muttered, "Nothing much, really…just kind of worried over Lovi and Feli."
"Mon amour," France, almost too cheerfully, slapped the brunette on the back, "everyone here is worried over someone. Did you not see mais Anglais earlier? He is not doing so well at the moment, you see."
"It's just…no matter how old Lovi gets, he's always dependent on someone, and, well…you know Feli…"
He nodded sympathetically, quickly glancing over his shoulder to receive a deadpan with a certain annoyed Englishman, waiting with his arms crossed. "I apologize, 'Tonio, but I must go. I shall call you later tonight…it seems Angleterre is waiting for me…"
"Yeah…" Spain brightened noticeably, giving his companion a firm nod. "Thanks, Francis."
"Anytime, anytime," he sang, walking back to England, who re-greeted him by using a fourth of the curses in his vocabulary.
All of the Nordics were in agreement—something needed to be done by them.
They all sat at a local German restaurant, hesitantly ordering whatever food they didn't find repulsive. The conversation was intense and strict, but it wasn't kept on the down low—after all, most people now were aware of the missing countries.
"Nations are going to keep disappearing," Norway said firmly to the others, setting down his water, "and there isn't a damn thing that the UN is going to do. We get into too many arguments."
"So what do you think we do?" Denmark questioned, shrugging. "Take matters into our own hands?"
"I suppose that would be…what's best to do," Sweden muttered quietly, currently engaged in a staring contest at the odd meat that occupied his plate.
"Exactly. There isn't much of a choice we can do then that. Unless," the Norwegian pointed out, "we all want to sit around, watching other countries go missing. And by then, who knows…another one of us might be gone, as well."
Finland swallowed a bite of his food, clacking his fork and adding, "But what are we going to do? We're not even sure if nations are getting captured, or just simply disappearing. And even if we knew which it was, how would we be taken on purpose?"
Norway leaned in quietly, looking around to see if any eyes were on them. "Here's the thing, Tino. I have a plan…"
Author's Comments
...Wrote this at 1 a.m.
So, I really hope someone out there is reading...I had one of those nights where I feel like I'm writing really good. And whenever that happens, when I go to bed and wake up and try to write more, I suck again.
It might be a bit much, but I'd reeally appreciate it if someone could drop me a review. I feel that criticism and what people think when they read this really helps with my work.
Can't wait for more...
- Maddy
