Hakuna matata

It means no worries

For the rest of your days

~The Lion King


Canada pulled back France, grabbing his collar before the woman smacked him.

"Eyes off, frenchie!" the woman stalked away, fuming. Canada took his hand away and backed up, separating himself from the man. He loved his big brother, but he'd rather not be called a pervert as well. They had been walking for awhile, a long while, and had gotten lost because of England too many times to count after he said he could navigate his old colony, maybe not quite a half an hour ago.

In that hour however, not only had France flirted the whole way, and actually quite politely at that, but England complained about every single thing.

It's too noisy, bloody Americans and their loud voices.

Why is everyone so obsessed with their tablets? And what the hell is a poke-whatever?

The comments went on. Canada was in the mind to smack him. America was not made to annoy you! After sending a quick heated glare, and making sure to say sorry about it in his mind, the trio headed into a more crowded area.

Instead of shops, the majority of the buildings ahead were restaurants. An Italian restaurant surrounded by bricks, a red awning above. Beside that, a classic bar with dingier bricks, bright neon signs, and posters crowding the walls; even outside the restaurant. Designer clothing stores, boutiques and cafes were squished into the in-betweens of the narrow street. Canada thought the place was vaguely familiar, but couldn't quite tell. France and England's bickering voices blended into the crowd as Canada tuned out, ignoring everyone, trying to sort through his mind and figure out why this ordinary and undistinguished street seemed to hold a place in his memory..

"-Oof!"

Suddenly, his head connected with another, knocking him back and into France. After stumbling a bit, the Canadian gained back his footing. He had just run into an intimidating looking brunette. The boy looked a few years out of college, stringy brown hair almost long enough to touch his coat. He looked even mouse-ish with his large pink nose and squinty eyes. Beside the worn rain jacket he was wearing, was a now spilled bag. The contents, takeout from an annoyingly American Chinese eatery, all over the ground. Angrily turning to Canada, who shrunk back a little in guilt, he gave a growl.

"What the hell man! Watch the fuck out," he turned away to look at the mess beside his feet." Ah, what happened to my-my food! God damn it, there goes today's special," starting to gather it up, the food, he suddenly noticed the whole trio. "Hey! Dudes! You're paying for another meal, ya' know," he spat out venomously.

Maple. Why were Alfred's people so frank. England clenched his teeth and leaned closer to him, he stuck a finger to his chest and looked up.

"And what, in the name of the bloody queen, makes you think we're going ta' pay for an arse like you? Boy." His green eyes were dangerously stormy, and gave the brunette quite a fright even though the Brit only came up to his chin.

"Why I oughta'-" before the two could start a fight, France stepped in.

"Oui! No problem toi gras cretin," smiling sickeningly sweetly, he grabbed the man by the shoulders. "Now, please lead our little entourage to this... establishment," a side look to the food. Canada held in his laughter as they started walking to the restaurant, it seemed the American didn't know French. France knowingly glanced back and winked. England understood well that they had just avoided a troublesome situation, but he was still a little indignant at the fact he was pushed aside. In awkward silence, the now group of four started down the road.

Now this was how you spent a day.

Alfred started clapping to the beat, leading the crowd to do it in sync with him. His lips constantly moved, the lyrics flowing naturally in a strong and proud manner. Thinking back, he couldn't actually remember ever being this at ease, or having this much fun. Meetings were not only dull, but constantly draining. Though it really didn't like it, he listened, took notes, formed plans. Most of the times he wasn't at meetings or out in large cities, he worked. Paperwork, more planning.

Boring, boring, and boring.

Lately sneaking off was harder to do, along with annoying the other countries. But-

Shit, he had gotten distracted again. Not was rare time where he could enjoy himself. He let himself sink back into the melody. Jared was a talented guy. Each song he played seemed perfect in it's own way. The best ones were the sings he didn't actually have music for, the ones the crowd suggested. Those made for some interesting covers. When would this end? He avoided the question and nodded to Jared, giving him the signal to prepare for a new song.

Forgetting his duties; for at least the moment.

"This really is good!"

Romano sat next to his chirpy brother on a bench in who knows where. Somehow, after running to the food truck, serving some German street food, they had been deserted by the other members of the group. The stupid tomato bastard and the potato bastard had left them. He barely saw them make their way through the crowd before they had disappeared. Japan, he had no clue about.

At least he got to spend time with his brother, or at least it wasn't the potato bastard. Spending time with his brother was hard though, because he irritated the hell out of him. It was "Come on Romano, over here!" or "Let's-a go see those pretty ladies!".

How could he be so positive? They were lost and alone in one of America's fucking odd cities. With no money.

At the moment, somehow Feliciano had managed to convince some women to let them join in at a cafe. The coffee was actually decent, but he had realized these women were annoying as hell. Their only good points were their looks, and even those seemed lacking in Romano's eyes. Feliciano was chatting up a storm though, how, Romano had no idea. Taking a bite of one of the many sweets he had ordered, including some terrible ass biscottis, he turned to Romano.

"What do you-a think Lovi?" smiling brightly he asked.

Oh shit, what'd he say?

"I mean I like-a the cream, but the texture is a little off, so I don't-a know," he seemed frustrated and looked down at the cake he had taken a bite of. Yellow and spongey with light pink frosting and strawberries. The two women smiled as he spoke, leaning to each other and whispering. Romano really didn't like them.

"I don't know idiota. Maybe you should have-a brought the German bastardo," the two blondes sitting across from them looked stunned. The left one whispered harshly to the other, afterwords taking a deep breath. This was the first time he had spoken the whole time, and he wasn't one for sweet words.

"But do you have any opinion though?" Italy frowned and then smiled nervously, knowing where this was going, but was ignored as his brother replied.

"About-a their fake hair and clothes? I say that blonde is-a way too platinum to look close to real. And don't get me started on those knock-offs-" Romano was cut off as hot tea started down over his hair and onto his face. The left girl was not standing and looking quite red and steaming herself. At the action, he turned red also, more out of anger.

"What did you-a do that for?!"

"Maybe because you insulted me, asshole!" Italy and the other blonde looked worried. Though her friend still looked mad in addition.

"I'm so sorry bella ragazza! My brother can be a little dishonest with himself-" With no emotion, Romano spoke.

"I meant every word."

"Lovi!" The girl lunged over the small table, knocking cups and staining her pink blouse. Her earrings flew about as she struggled and clawed for the Italian. He jerked back in fright as she started swearing off the walls. One earring fell out and onto the floor, not that she noticed. Italy did, picking the silver teardrop up and admiring the red jewel in the center. The blonde, the one who wasn't trying to choke Romano and holding her friend back, put her hand over her mouth and pointed to Italy.

Confused and cocking his head Italy stood up. The woman choking Romano paused looked between her friend and Italy before covering her ear. Now she went for Italy.

"Fucking thief! Give it back! That was from my boyfriend!" Still holding the earring, Italy, confused and scared, started running away. Very fast. Romano cussed and went after him, noting the girls and many others tapping their phones as they watched in horror. This was no good. God damn Feliciano and his habit of looking for girls.

Well, at least they were pretty.


Oui (French)- Yes

Toi gras cretin (French)- You fat dumbass

Idiota (Italian)- Idiot

Bastardo (Italian)- Bastard

Bella Ragazza (Italian)- Beautiful girl