Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Arvlakin manor, or more commonly known as Base camp-1. It had been quite famous for housing the president in the beginning and its high defenses; but now it was mostly forgotten. It was in the middle of a giant overgrown oak and birch forest. It was actually quite small, only having three floors (one underground as a failsafe). The second floor had a common room, three bathrooms, a kitchen, a dining room, and one room labeled as the work room. And the third floor had six bedrooms and a library. The interior flooring was mostly wood, but the fail safe's floors were mainly steel; and the walls were all cinder block, except for the failsafe. All the bedrooms had a queen sized bed and at least one window, they had one small closet and lastly had one small table with two chairs in one of the corners. The bathrooms were nothing special, only having a shower, a toilet, and a sink. The kitchen and the dining rooms were no different, the kitchen contained a refrigerator, a kitchen sink, two toasters, an oven, a pantry, a kettle, a coffee maker, and cooking supplies; and the dining room had a simple pale, wooden table with five chairs which were obviously in a set. Now the "work room" was more intricate, it mostly looked like a scientists lab, but it had a table full of papers with a type writer lost somewhere under the piles, and another table covered with papers and scattered open books with a white board next to it with several mathematical equations taking up most of its surface. It also had a set of stairs going down; it was quite clear that it attached this room to the failsafe room, but if someone were to go down the stairs they would only be greeted by a dimly lit hallway with what looked to be a vault door at the end of the tunnel. And no one really knew what was behind that door, not even the current residents knew what was behind it; thought they did think that it was most likely a tunnel to the outside if the base were to ever be taken over.

Now the residents were quite few in number; there were only five. Alfred was young and had the build to show it. He had short, sandy blonde hair and tanned skin which were complemented by sky-blue eyes. His build spoke of a past full of sports and many work outs, but it also showed the remnants of starvation; to include he stood at a height of six foot two. Arthur was leaner and shorter, standing at five foot eight. He had lighter hair then Alfred, and it seemed to always be in a constant state of bedhead and Arthur had a much leaner build that was most likely the product of doing no actual exercise but still being skinny; and his appearance was tied off with thick eyebrows that sat above emerald green eyes. Francis was another blonde, he had the same build as Arthur, and stood only an inch taller than Arthur. His hair was shoulder length and just a little light than Alfred's and darker than Arthur's, he generally kept it in a low ponytail and his eyes reflected the color of the ocean. Ivan was the tallest at six foot four and he had a build similar to that of Alfred's; he had snowy-blonde hair with eyes that were more of a violet. And lastly, there was Kiku; he stood at a height of five foot five and had short black hair that matched his dark eyes, his figure was lean much like Arthur's, but it showed no traces of any malnourishment, but did show some evidence of sports that would make you more lean than buff. Though there was also a dog, though no one knew if it counted, but Alfred was quite fond of it. It was of medium size and dark colors; no one actually knew its breed but that didn't stop them from doting on the poor thing. Actually if you were to find the dog, you would probably find Alfred nearby; Alfred had named it Molossia because of a joke he had made with him.

But this was quite a nice morning; it had the crisp autumn breeze blowing, the serenades of the morning birds, and the rustling of leaves. And the only one awake was Alfred. He had walked out to the balcony that was attached to his room. Alfred's room was the only one with one and he often went out onto it at night or in the morning. He had set up a plastic reclining chair that you usually saw at pools. And right now he was, in fact, reclining in it. Alfred was always up the earliest and took his time doing his morning routine, which consisted of getting up, shower, sky gaze, three cup of coffee, and wait for someone to get up and make food; unless that person was Arthur and then he would soon take over the cooking or wake up one of the others to cook. And right now he was holding his third cup of Joe and was about to get up since he had just heard someone in the kitchen.

And there was indeed someone in the kitchen, it just wasn't the person he wanted in the kitchen. Arthur was there and as soon as Alfred came in; he produced a batch of burnt scones. The taller of the two grunted, which made Arthur turn around.

"Ah, Alfred could you be a dear and fetch the others; I just finished the scones and when will you wear something other than that jacket?"

"No, this jacket is my baby; also I think we'll be having left overs again." Arthur shot him a look, before he padded off to the stairs that were in the far left of the kitchen where the dining room connected to the kitchen.

"Guys were having left overs again!" It only took a few seconds after his yell, to hear several shuffled footsteps and a couple of moans. After that, the rest of their company filed down the stairs. Each looking like they had just woken up, which they had.

"But we had left overs the day before last, and I am most certain that it is not Arthur's turn to cook." Francis moaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Ivan and Kiku nodded their heads in agreement (they weren't really morning people and, more times than not, couldn't find the energy to talk until they had gotten food), and Arthur who had joined them in conversation from his spot in the kitchen, sniffed.

"Well, it was Alfred's turn but I am certain they he has no cooking skills; since out of all my years of knowing him, I have never seen him cook anything from scratch." Alfred made a face of mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart.

"I am offended, you haven't even tasted my cooking and I don't think anyone could make as good of cooking as you." His words were dripping with sarcasm, but everyone just looked at him as if he had just said the worst thing he could ever say, in Arthur's case a look of delight.

Alfred rolled his eyes, "whatever, ya'll just sit here and let me start cooking; wouldn't want the old man to throw out his back or better yet poison us all." He mumbled the last part to himself, but it was obvious that Kiku and Ivan had heard him. Speaking of Ivan, though man was following him, he turned to give the man a questioning look.

Ivan replied to his look with a simple, "help?" Alfred just shrugged and turned back to the kitchen, Ivan took that as an invitation to help. Several clangs and grumbles later, Alfred and Ivan were walking out of the kitchen, plates in hand. They placed a plate and bowl in front of each person.

"There, see it didn't come out as unidentified black sludge now did it?" Alfred chirped cheerfully.

"Yes, but what is this Alfred and was it made from scratch?" Arthur poked the contents of his bowl, while Francis beamed obviously happy they weren't eating food from the only person who can burn coffee.

"Its southern style grits, used to have them all the time when I was growing up."

"This is good, it will be even better if you made it from scratch!" Alfred smiled a grin that spoke of mischief.

"I made it from a box." Francis immediately choked on his food and ran to the sink to spew out the contents of his mouth.

"Guess who's having left overs this morning!" Everyone laughed merrily and started digging in, tossing jokes or comments to each other while Francis begrudgingly ate the leftovers from the day before. Kiku and Alfred shared a smile as they laughed at a joke they had made about Francis and his dramatics; it was such an ordinary day.

It was quite easy for them to forget the predicament they were in. The wall (a giant brick wall, that encompassed the clearing that Arvlakin manor resided in), kept the raiders, and scavengers, and the zombies out; and it effectively kept them in. They never tried going out, unless they were to get supplies which was rarely since there wasn't a big population to feed. This was another reason that they didn't go out a lot; too many of the original population was killed by scavengers and raiders during supply runs. Though they didn't have to worry a whole lot about the zombie infestation that the world was having a problem with, since they were in a very secluded spot and most of the world's populations had flocked to the cities; though they had a high mortality and when a zombie got in, it was extremely hard to contain it and generally when this happened a whole new wave of zombies and their variants came. Though, just because they were secluded did not meant that they weren't ready, they had capias amounts of things used to protect one's self and they even had a safety protocol that they practiced every two months. But since this was an ordinary day, they weren't on their toes; well, except Ivan, but he was always ready.