Credits to original subber: monobuu
The last time with Germany was a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare.
And so tonight, when I found myself in the "same state of unrest", I tried my best to count the sheep by myself, but ended up thinking of cotton candy and the smell of mutton roasting over a pit of fire.
Drool started to gather in my mouth as I imagined the oil dripping from the meat, creating a delicious sizzle as it hit the blazing wood.
I was killing off sheeps instead of counting them.
Germany had awakened my "potential ability" in slaughtering innocent animals instead...
Quoting his words, "Should you find yourself in this exact same state, you must use your own judgement to examine the situation, and create and utilize a solution!". And according to my own judgement, I am a useless piece of crap at counting sheep. Therefore, my solution to this was—
To call in England to help me count sheep instead.
Well, why not? I haven't seen that British guy in a while. Plus he might actually have some experience counting sheeps for his former colonies (pssst psst America and Canada)— a much better alternative than the uptight Germany.
Previously, Germany was staying over my house for (insert a reason), so he was within beck and call distance. Sadly, England was in his home country now, so I'll have to phone him over.
Puru. Puru. Puru. Puru. Puru. Puru. Pu—gacha (A/N: they are sounds the Den-Den Mushi/snail phone in One Piece make)
"Ayyy~ I apologise for the sudden late night call, Queen Lizbeth! How have you been doing?"
"Oh my, this is such a surprise!" Queen Elizabeth gave a small chuckle over the phone line, the sound of a television in the background. "I have been well, dearie. Just watching Emmerdale's rerun on the television. I suppose you phoned over to find Arthur?"
"Is he busy right now? I mean, Brexit can be a handful..."
"Oh no, no, he's free right now. Is there something you need from him?"
"Please ask him to make a trip to my house, I have urgent business in which I require his assistance."
"Sure, dearie. He'll be there in a jiffy." I could hear the smile in the Queen's voice. "You sweet little angel, you could have just called his cell phone."
"I wanted to check up on you as well..."
"I know, I know...Oh! It's getting to the exciting part of the show! I'll have to concentrate now, apologies, my dear. Good night and sweet dreams."
"Same goes to you, Queen Lizbeth."
The phone line went dead and I wondered if the Queen would remember to tell England to get over here.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
I glanced at the clock.
1 a.m.
England wasn't here yet and I have already butchered one thousand and thirty-six sheeps.
Maybe he's really busy...I could call someone else to come over instead.
Just as I was scrolling through my list of contacts wondering who I should call to replace England, the man in question finally arrived.
He knocked on the door—as expected of a gentleman—announcing himself and asking for permission to enter my room.
"Come in."
The door swung open and he walked in, raising a caterpillar eyebrow inquiringly at me and my bed.
"I thought you said you had urgent business with me? And I come here to find you lounging in your bed instead."
"Exactly, I need you to count sheep for me."
"Ah? Asking me to count sheep for you...man...why would I have to do something like that?" England grabbed a nearby chair and sat down.
I gave him a look of 'Are you stupid or just really stupid?'
He sighed exasperatedly, "Yes, I know counting sheep is something you do when you can't sleep. What I meant was why do I have to count sheep for you?"
Waiting for him had really worn me out—especially after all the sheeps that I have murdered, and I stifled a yawn, my eyes starting to tear up.
"Wait—!" England took a look at my face, the chair crashing to the floor in his haste to rush over to my bedside. "Why are you crying? I wasn't that harsh, was I? Ah— crap, here, use my handkerchief!" He rummaged the inside pocket of his suit, all flustered over my 'tears'.
I swallowed my laughter, taking the handkerchief from him and wiping my eyes with it. "I'm so hurt by your remark..."
"W-What's the matter...did something happen? You can't sleep, but is it so bad that you have to cry?"
The sad little face I had put on crumbled shortly after seeing England's hands flying all over the place in the attempt to find something—anything—to cheer me up.
A small snort bubbled out before I could clamp it down, and before long, I was outright roaring with laughter in England's confuddled face.
It took a few moments before everything clicked into place in England's brain. "You brat! I should have known that you were just yawning!" He crossed his arms in a fit of anger, "Don't mess with me! I was seriously worried there..." England faltered as his tsundere side kicked in.
"...I'll count, okay?!" He looked over to the side, avoiding my eyes. "It must be pretty hard to be so tired, you know, yawning like that, and not able to sleep... D-Don't get the wrong idea, though! I'm just counting because if you don't go to sleep, I can't go home. I'm not doing it for you or anything..."
A knowing smile stretched across my face as I watched England's green eyes dart between the wall and I. "Mmm...sure...I'm sure you meant that."
"Stop grinning at me like that! You look like the friggin Cheshire Cat!"
"Okay."
"Stop it!"
"Sorry."
England dragged the chair closer to my bedside, crossing his legs as he sat. "Okay. Are you ready? I'm going to start counting." I closed my eyes, hugging my bolster tightly.
"One sheep."
Ahhh...Sugiyama-san's voice is really nice. (A/N: Sugiyama Noriaki is England's Japanese voice actor)
"Two sheep. Three sheep. Four sheep..."
Fuck. Why the hell do I keep thinking of dead sheeps?
"Eight sheep."
I tried summoning darkness to shut out my overactive brain.
"Nine sheep. Ten sheep."
Unfortunately, the image of food and dead sheeps still hasn't left my mind. I opened my eyes, staring blankly at England.
He sighed. "You said you had trouble sleeping, but you're not even drowsy?"
"Nah...I'm kind of drowsy." I paused a little. "I think..." I added in a small voice.
"Geez... I suppose being drowsy is better than not being able to sleep." England mussed his hair tiredly and I felt guilty for calling him over when he was obviously overworked and exhausted as well. It was already nearing 1.30 a.m.
"Uhm...do you think you can sleep now?" I nodded. Even if I couldn't sleep I would force myself to sleep. England needed his rest too.
"Oh, okay. When I counted for America before, it didn't work very well, but...hmm, even if you're not a child, my counting can be pretty effective. Ah—! I was just talking to myself. Never mind that, I'll just continue counting."
"Eleven sheep. Twelve sheep. Thirteen sheep..."
Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. O' dear lord of the Universe, please come embrace me into your arms and lull me into sleep. O' Dormammu, Goddess of Libra, Yatogami, Bodhisattva Maitreya, God Hima, please grant me the luxury of sleep.
(Dr. Strange) (Amagi Brilliant Park) (Noragami) (Nichijou)
"Nineteen sheep."
My prayers are working...and England's gentle voice...
"Twenty sheep. Twenty—Oh! You guys!"
MEIN GOTT. Just when I was about to fall into the clutches of the Great Beast of Slumber, England's excitement vanquished the awaiting Beast and I was wide awake once again.
"You came all the way out here? Right now, I'm helping this person go to sleep. You guys know people who count sheep too, right? I guess it works pretty well." England smiled at empty air, holding his hand out to something.
Ah. Mister England's magical friends. I believe in magic, but sadly I couldn't see any of them.
"Who's here?" I asked, as I pressed a finger to my forehead and imagined imaginary magic inside my veins flowing upwards—to activate my imaginary Third Eye. Of course, this was all an imaginary scene in my head and nothing actually happened.
I was still looking at England coversing with air.
"Hm? Oh, these guys? They're pretty cute, aren't they? They're all fairies that live with me. If I'm a little late in returning home, they'll come and get me." England fawned over something, petting it with a finger. I noticed how he talked as if I could see them.
England gave a little 'oh?' as he watched something fly(?) towards me. Was something flying towards me? I couldn't tell.
"Haha, the pixie seems to have taken a liking to you. Since they came all the way over here, go ahead and pet her."
I smiled at England, excitement pounding through my heart. Oh my god! I CAN PET A MAGICAL CREATURE! Where is she?
I patted the bedsheets on my right, the side where England was sitting, trying to find the smol pixie.
"Hahaha, why are you petting the air when nothing's there? Are you half asleep? She's on your left, your left." England pointed at a particular spot on my left and I stretched a finger out.
Poke.
I screamed. "England! Holy shit! I touched her! I touched a magical creature!"
England mumbled apologies for my rude behaviour to the magical creatures surrounding him, saying something about "mundane people going all gaga over anything exotic".
"Do you not have fairies in your house?" He asked.
"I might have. Maybe I just haven't found them." I really hoped I do have fairies of my own. "Or they haven't found me. I can't see any magical creatures but I hope one day I will."
"Oh...that's...really sad." England shot me a pitying look. "You can pet the pixie again, she really likes your reactions."
I stretched out a finger again, sweeping around the area where I last touched the pixie. "Hello, nice to meet you—OH!"
"Wait—Hold on! Your fingernail caught onto her dress!" England exclaimed, half deciding whether to abandon all gentlemanly manners to climb over my bed and help me unhook the pixie.
My hand was in the air and I could just imagine the little pixie struggling to get my troublesome finger off her. In pure blind panic, I reached out with my other hand to grab the pixie, which I still (unfortunately) can't see.
"Don't grab her there!" England half-screamed and I let go of everything immediately. However, some shimmering gold dust flew into my eye. I blinked like a madman, forgetting all about the pixie that was still stuck on my finger, and used that finger to rub my eyes.
"STOP OH MY GOD!" England yelled and I yelled together with him, realising that I almost squished the pixie against my eye.
"SORRY!"
And then I did the most horrible thing in my life.
I jerked my hand away from my eye as I screamed my apology, and I saw the little pixie get thrown off by the sudden motion.
She hit the wall with a sickening splat, iridescent liquid exploding out and trailing down to where her tiny body slid to the floor.
The highest pitched shriek of horror I have ever heard in my life erupted out of England's mouth.
I countered it with my own blood-curdling scream.
If the situation wasn't so serious, I might have laughed at England for letting out such a girly scream.
"I SAW HER ENGLAND OH MY GREAT GRANDMOTHER'S DUCK WHY CAN I SEE HER AND I KILLED HER ENGLAND! ENGLAND! I MURDERED A PIXIE!"
England forgot about all the manners he had so impeccably kept to all these years, scrambling up to my bed—eyebrows and all—and almost fell off the other side of the bed while trying to reach the half-dead (or totally dead) pixie.
"ARE YOU OKAY?!" England cradled the pixie in his palm, hollering at the poor pixie hysterically.
"SHE'S NOT OKAY ENGLAND! THE BLOOD! FUCKING HELL! THERE'S SO MUCH BLOOD! I HAVE COMMITTED A GREAT SIN PLEASE PUNISH ME I'M SO SORRY! KILL ME TOO! I'M SORRY! AAAAARGH SO SORRY OH GOD!"
I tripped over and tangled up myself in my blanket, flopping onto the floor headfirst like a fish when I got off my bed.
I squirmed over to England's side, tears pouring out my eyes as I repeated 'I'm so sorry' over and over again like a broken record. The pixie laid still in England's palms, her legs and wings askew.
The fragile pixie was killed. By me.
"ENGLAND! TAKE MY LIFE! YOU CAN DO MAGIC RIGHT—USE SOMETHING WHATEVER RESUSCITATION LIFE EXCHANGING SACRIFICING SPELL!" I tore my arms out of my blanket prison, grabbing his collar (why the hell do I keep grabbing collars) and shaking him.
"S-STOP IT YOU BLOODY BASTARD! SHE'S FINE!" England yelled as his head snapped back and forth.
"SHE IS NOT FINE! ARE YOU BLIND ENGLAND?! HAS YOUR EYEBROWS GROWN OVER YOUR EYES?! LOOK AT HER! SHE'S NOT FINE!" I let go of England, pointing at the pixie in his palms, "LOOK AT—oh."
The pixie was alive and kicking. Or flying, to be exact.
I could dimly hear twinkling, melodic cheers originating from the right side of the room but my brain was too overwhelmed by the discovery of life to properly process that.
The pixie patted herself down, giving me a bright smile. She opened her tiny bud-like mouth and said something which I couldn't understand, because all I heard was the silvery sounds of a teeny tiny bell. I threw a puzzled look at England.
"Do not worry, dear friend of Mr England, I am alive and well." England translated, as the pixie twirled in the air, coming closer to boop me in the nose. "The 'blood' that you see was not of mine, but the vials of my potion."
England continued his translation. "We magical creatures do not perish that easily. I was merely momentarily stunned by your magnificent force. Thank you for your concern, friend."
"I-I'm so SORRY!" I bawled, reaching out a hand to hug the pixie. I grabbed the rebellious hand back close to my body, in fear that I would somehow crush the poor pixie again somehow. "I'm sor—FUCK! Why can I see the pixie?"
"Language!"
I almost got whiplash from the speed at which I turned to face the opposite side, where England was sitting before.
I seized England's hand and slapped it across my face. He gave an uncharacteristic squawk of surprise. "What the bloody hell are you doing?!"
"England. I'm not dreaming am I? I couldn't see your magical friends before, but I can see them now. There's...there's a flying mint green bunny...and a fairy...and—oh my fucking god I can see them."
The adorable bunny waved at me and I felt my heart explode. "They are so fucking cute."
"LANGUAGE!"
I ignored England, feeling over my body. "D-Did I open a third eye somewhere? England! Do you see my third eye? Have I activated my long dormant magical powers?"
A small tinkle of bells interrupted my racing thoughts and I looked towards England for translation again. He was literally my Google Translate for magical creatures.
"The pixie said that she threw some pixie dust in your eyes earlier to help you see them. The vision usually lasts only for a short while, but if one can still see magical creatures after 3 hours, it means that the person has an affinity for magic and thus the effect will be permanent." England turned to look at the clock. It was already 2 am.
"What did you call me here for again?"
"Uh...counting sheep."
"Right."
We sat on my bedroom floor, calming ourselves down. The magical creatures flew over, some resting on England's shoulder while others landed on my lap.
"Are you angry, England?" I asked timidly. I had almost gotten his good friend hurt after all.
"Well, you could say I am a little angry, but it wasn't your fault." England ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "It's really late now, you should get back into bed."
I obediently crawled back to my king-sized bed, pulling my blanket along with me. England returned to his chair, waiting for me to settle down.
"Uh...England. I don't think I can sleep tonight."
"Huh?! You call me over to count bloody sheeps for you and you tell me you can't sleep?!" England paused, then added, "After what transpired, I guess it would be hard to sleep...hm? You can cast a sleeping spell for her?"
My eyes shifted over to the pixie who was shaking a miniature pouch full of pixie dust clenched in her hand. "Yeah, I would like that, Miss Pixie. Thank you very much."
Did you just assume my gender?
I blinked at the sudden voice in my head, looking around to see who was that. My eyes narrowed suspiciously on the pixie, but she didn't show any signs of having tampered with my brain. She looked just as confused as me too. England called the pixie 'her' too, didn't he?
Dismissing it as my inner consciousness speaking up for the pixie, I made a mental note to stop browsing Tumblr for the next few days. England didn't notice my actions and continued speaking.
"I guess that would be for the best. And it's 'yes', not 'yeah'." He corrected me automatically.
"Hurry up, little pixie, I don't want to see this bastard's face for a second longer."
A peal of laughter spewed forth from the pixie and he/she/it showered me with golden glittering dust.
The last thing I saw was England's red, blotchy face before I slipped into the blissful land of sleep.
Man. Who should I do next? Maybe Russia? Or Canada? Or America?