And here we go, the next round of drabbles from the second round of play. One more round of group play after this and then it's on to the knock out stage. Super exciting.

Enjoy.


Australia 2-3 Netherlands

"What a match, eh?" Australia's smile exploded across his face as he shook Netherlands' hand, "Almost had you there for a bit.

Netherlands grunted in response, reasonably confident that he had the game pretty much in control, although maybe it was touch and go there for a moment or two.

"I thought you'd have been a lot tougher though," he laughed, "Considering how hard you thrashed Spain, I mean."

"Who knows? Maybe I was just going easy on you."

Australia laughed like that, "In the World Cup? Not on your life. No one in the history of the sport has gone easy on their opponent, and I doubt you're the one to start, mate."

Netherlands was inclined to agree.


Spain 0-2 Chile

Spain blinked his eyes open as the sun streamed down on him. He sat up and looked around the empty football stadium. That's right; he had his match against Chile today. Good thinking on his part taking a nap in the stadium so he wouldn't be late.

"You finally awake?" Spain looked up to see Romano sitting on the nearby bench, frowning at him. Odd that he'd chosen to sleep on the ground as opposed to the bench, but then again he'd had more awkward napping spots.

"Oh, Romano," Spain sighed, "I had the strangest, most horrible dream. I dreamt that I had actually lost to Chile, and despite being the defending Champion and the best team in the world I was the first team eliminated," he laughed, "What a crazy dream."

"Yeah, that wasn't a dream," Romano leaned back and stared up at the passing clouds, "Your game ended a few hours ago. You lost."

Spain froze, the memories flooding back to him, "Are you positive I didn't dream that?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure this conversation isn't a dream?"

Romano punched him right on the head, and it hurt quite a lot. "Oh."

"Yeah," Romano stood up hand held out a hand to Spain, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Spain turned away from him, "Yeah, I'm alright."

"You're crying, you know."

Spain lifted a hand to his cheek, and sure enough it came away wet, "Huh. Would you look at that?"

Romano sat down on the grass next to him, "We can stay here for a bit, and then find you something to drown your tears in, my treat for once, Boss."

Spain rested his head against Romano's shoulder, silently letting his tears fall, "Thank you, Romano."


Cameroon 0-4 Croatia

Cameroon had hidden his face behind his hands sometime around the third goal and still hadn't come out when the final whistle blew. "Is it over?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's over," Ghana said, "You lost, but I think you knew that."

"I kind of figured somewhere between the red card and the third goal," he sighed, "What's the damage?"

"Four nil."

He groaned.

"Hey, it could be worse."

"How could this possibly be worse? I have no points, a goal differential of -5, my best player was red carded, and I still have to play Brazil."

"You could have lost to America."

That got a chuckle out of him, "At least I'm not that pathetic."

"Hey," she playfully punched his shoulder, "No need for insults, I'm trying to cheer you up."

"A drink might help with that."

"I can do that, but you've got to promise me one thing."

"And what's that?"

She smirked, "Give Brazil hell."

That got a full on grin, "That, at least, I can do."


Uruguay 2-1 England

"I can't believe it," England muttered, "Completely humiliated. I invented the sport and-"

"You always do this, every time you lose." America stood straighter and put on his worst British accent, "'Ello 'ello, my names England and since I invented soccer I am the only one who knows how to play it despite the fact I haven't won the World Cup since 1966 and I'm convinced the sport hasn't changed since then. Tea and crumpets, bangers and mash, God Save the Queen and Doctor Who, wotcher.'"

"Oh, and like you're much better?" England slouched and mustered up the worst American accent he could, "'Yo, dude, I'm America. I don't know why I'm here since I hate football so much that I made my own football even though it's just rugby with padding. I also can't think up an original television show premise to save my life so I just steal them all from England. Fuck all y'all.'"

"Haha you're so hilarious I just love spending time with you," America rolled his eyes, "But you're acting like getting eliminated from groups is the end of the world, and you're not even eliminated yet!"

England's face went white, "Do you actually think I could be eliminated?"

"Anything's possible, it's the World Cup, you know."

That was exactly the wrong thing to say, as England slid further into his seat, "I haven't failed to leave groups in eons. Do you know what that's like?"

"To get knocked out in groups? Yes, I know that feeling well," America held out his hand, "You're up against Costa Rica next. She's from my conference so I know her well, and trust me you're not going to be able to win if you keep moping around like this, and then you'll be eliminated for sure." He raised an eyebrow, "What happened to that 'Keep Calm and Carry On' attitude of yours."

England blinked, "You're right," and took his hand, allowing himself to be pulled up, "I can't give up now. France'll never let me hear the end of it."

"That's the spirit."


Japan 0-0 Greece

A tie. A tie was good; it meant he wasn't out yet. He could work with a tie. Sure, a win would be better, if only he could have just gotten even one ball into the goal… but he didn't.

"Japan!" Greece called over to him, knocking him out of his thoughts, "Good game."

"Ah, yes," Japan bowed slightly, "Same to you, Greece-san. Well played."

"I guess we're both still in this," Greece smiled, "Although only one of us can make it out of groups now."

"Or Côte d'Ivoire."

"I guess," Greece sighed, "It'll be an uphill battle for either of us."

"Yes," Japan looked away, "that's true."

"Still," he held out his hand, "I'll be rooting for you. Good luck against Colombia. I know you'll give him hell."

Japan smiled as he shook Greece's hand, "Yes, and I wish you luck against Côte d'Ivoire. I'll be cheering you on."

A tie was fine; a tie meant a chance.


Italy 0-1 Costa Rica

"What-" said Romano.

"The-" said Italy

"Gooooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllll!" shouted the announcer over the stadium's PA system.

Sure enough, the ball was in the goal. The strange part was that it was Costa Rica's ball in Italy's goal.

"How?" Romano asked.

"I don't know." Italy answered.

"She's going to win the group." Romano said.

They both looked at each other.

While their group wasn't the so-called 'Group of Death,' their group wasn't exactly a cakewalk, but between three previous World Cup champions and Costa Rica, who couldn't even win her conference…

"No." Italy decided.

"Just a fluke." Romano agreed.

Who would have guessed Costa Rica would win the group?


Switzerland 2-5 France

France chuckled as he stared down Switzerland, "Did you actually think you stood a chance?"

Switzerland glared back at him but remained silent.

"I mean really," he sighed and flipped his hair over his shoulder, "I knew I was going to win but 5-0? What, are you on the same level as Spain?"

Switzerland's rage and disdain reached new levels as France laughed once more and his attention turned back to the game.

Just in time to watch Switzerland's boys sink two beautiful goals.

France stared at the pitch in complete disbelief, and it was Switzerland's turn to chuckle.

"I'm not out of this thing yet."


Germany 2-2 Ghana

"How long has he been like this?"

"Since Ghana took the lead."

"And he hasn't moved?"

"Not a centimeter."

Prussia could hear three concerned voices floating nearby, but he was having trouble acknowledging them.

Because they couldn't take the lead. From Ghana.

"Portugal I'd understand," he said out loud, "Portugal should have been a force to be reckoned with. But Ghana?"

"Oh look," France said from his left, "He lives."

"Hey Prussia," Spain said on his right, "How are you feeling?"

"We shouldn't have underestimated her," Germany was standing in front of him, arms crossed and glancing away, "We let our guard down."

"But she lost to America!"

"We shouldn't underestimate him either. We're playing him next, after all."

"It's a strange World Cup where anything can happen," France said, leaning back and stretching out his legs, "Especially now that your so-called 'Group of Death' is now wide open."

"Did we," Prussia swallowed, not daring to think it but having to ask, "Did we, lose?"

"Tie," Germany answered, "2-2."

"Oh thank god. We haven't reached Spain levels of pathetic."

"Hey!" Spain smacked his shoulder, "I'm sitting right here!"

"Who gets ranked the best team in the world and then loses right out the gate I mean, Spain," Prussia placed a hand on his shoulder, "You're my friend and I love you, but c'mon. That's pathetic."

"We considered Portugal our only threat in the group," Germany had his serious voice on, and Prussia was paying attention, "And we let our guard down. We now know that's not the case. We can't let that happen again."

"It won't," Prussia said. And he'd make sure it didn't; they both would.


Belgium 1-0 Russia

Belgium may have actually jumped for joy when the final whistle blew, but could you blame her? She'd just won her second game, all but securing her spot in the next round, and was well on her way to winning the whole group. Sure her goal differential wasn't nearly at her brother's level, but she was still winning the group.

"Good job," she turned to find Russia standing there, "Your team played well."

"Thanks," she said and held out a hand, "Yours did too."

"Ah, not as well as I should like," he shook her hand, "I'm thinking it is the heat, we are not so used to it. This will not be a problem at my house next time."

That sounded more like an excuse, but she was in a good mood; she let it slide, "Good luck with your next game! Algeria, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied, and suddenly the temperature dropped a few degrees, "I certainly wouldn't want to be him anytime soon."

As soon as Russia was gone, she let out a shudder, somehow even more glad that she had already qualified then she was a moment ago.


South Korea 2-4 Algeria

South Korea hung his head as the final whistle blew. He'd tried so hard, wanted it even harder, but wanting a win was never enough, and he knew that. After all Algeria wanted a win too, probably.

Still, he was a good sport, and he smiled as he congratulated Algeria on winning and wished him luck against Russia before slogging back to the locker room with the rest of his team.

His goal differential was the worst in the group, he realized later. Not only would he have to beat Belgium to advance, he'd have to do it by a significant amount.

"That shouldn't be a problem for you, should it?"

He realized he must have said that out loud as Japan sat down next to him, "After all, aren't you the one who claims to be better than me, even though I'm still the reigning Asian Champion?"

He gave him a small smile, "You just catch me on my off days. And some champion you turn out to be anyway," he sighed, "We're not doing so well here, are we?"

"No, not as well as we'd like, but we're not out yet."

"Quite a climb for both of us just to get out of groups at this point."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we should give up. After all, anything is possible if we try, and if we give up then we've already lost."

That got him a full-fledged smile, "Let's shake things up, Aniki."


USA 2-2 Portugal

"Yes!" America shouted, already celebrating as the clock wound down, "We did it!"

Somehow, after that disastrous first five minutes, he managed to pull out ahead of Portugal. A standard All-American Take That! to everyone who doubted he could.

He was going to win this game. He was going to qualify for the next round regardless of what happened in the next game against Germany. He was going to be winning the group-

"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLL!" shouts the announcer over the stadium's PA system, "Portugal scores! In the last attack of the game, no less!"

"What." America stared at the scoreboard in disbelieve, the 2-2 shining just as clear as the clock reaching 95 minutes and the end of the game. "How?"

But, he had been there, right there, victory just in his reach, and to have it snatched away so quickly…

"You're not out of here just yet," Portugal was saying, "This group is still wide open."

How right he was. With the four of them in clawing distance of the next round the next games were going to be brutal.

Still, if it was a fight they wanted, it was a fight he was more than happy to bring.