"How is Arthur to aid us Alfred-san?" Japan inquired curiously to the other nation. America grinned widely as he shoved the gate leading to the Englishman's home open.
"Well, apparently Mattie was going to stay with him, so he's probably here since Arthur's anal and won't let Mattie leave the house once he remembers him." America explained as they strode up the path.
"Ah." Japan looked up to the doorway as they neared it, intent on knocking on the door and waiting patiently for the nation living in the home to open the door. Sadly, his hope for a reasonable introduction was dashed when America kicked the door open.
"Oh Aaaaaartieeeeee, guess who's here!" America shouted into the home in a sing song voice. Japan winced at the loud voice as it echoed through the home, cringing as he expected a furious British man to pound over to the door while shouting profanities. However, said prediction failed to appear leaving them both standing at the door awkwardly (well, Alfred was as he had adopted hero pose 14, the waiting hero). "Arthur? Iggy? Ya here?" America called into the house before striding in, Japan trailing after as he looked around.
"Perhaps he went out?" Japan ventured once they had reached the living room without a sign of the Englishman. America frowned before sighing and shaking his head.
"No, he's probably in," here he rolled his eyes at Japan before pointing at a closed door, "his cellar." Japan blinked at him before sighing as well.
"I see." America nodded to the Japanese man and walked towards the basement door. Pausing before it America leaned forward and pressed his ear against the door, listening intently. Japan stood back and watched as the American leaned back, chuckling into a hand.
"He's casting a spell." He giggled from behind his hand. Japan rolled his eyes as America opened the door loudly. "Iggy, ya down there?" America called down as he put his first step on the stairs.
England, wearing black robes had been standing in front of the circle etched in the middle of the floor with a book open in one hand quickly snapped the literature closed with a curse when the loud obnoxious voice proclaimed the presence of his former colony.
"Who?" The bear in the middle of the circle asked, cocking its head to the side curiously. England glanced at the bear, his green eyes filled with worry.
"Bollocks, stay quiet." He hissed to the bear before spinning around to face the staircase, just in time for his former colony wearing a bomber jacket and followed closely after by Japan stepped off the staircase with a wide grin. America wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell of burning wax from the candles in various parts of the room and brazier, the sole sources of illumination in the chamber.
"Hey Arthur, what ya doin?" America called out to him, waving enthusiastically before eying his outfit. "And what's with the dress?" England growled darkly at the other nation.
"It's a robe you twit, and for god's sake speak properly; I thought I raised you better than that." America just laughed it off before striding forward, flinging an arm around the shorter blonde.
"Aw, c'mon Artie, take a joke." England squirmed in the American's hold, glaring darkly.
"I would if it were funny like proper British humour, and what is it with you and nicknames anyway blast it."
"Pfft, whatever. I've seen Monty Python, British humour is just weird." England scowled and pulled out of the American's grasp with a curse.
"What did you want, or did you just come here to interrupt my spell casting?" England demanded, drawing himself up to his full height. America rolled his eyes at the declaration.
"Yeah, real important witchcraft from... Is that the first Harry Potter book?" England flushed a dark crimson of embarrassment and hid the book's cover against his body.
"W-what does it matter, did you need something?"
"Oh, right. I wanted to ask where Mattie is, have you seen him?" England looked to the sides before inconspicuously stepping in between the loud nation and the pile on the floor.
"Um, perhaps..." America raised an eyebrow at the action before peering over England's head.
"Wait, is that Mattie's b-."
"Oh yes, Matthew, he came by but left shortly afterwards." England immediately proclaimed, stepping backwards to once again block the Americans view of the bespectacled bear. America glanced back down, his curious blue eyes meeting England's green ones.
"He was? Where did he go?"
"How the hell should I know, the boy's his own country, he can do what he wants." England barked, regaining a degree of his bluster back since the American seemed to have believed him and his short attention span kicked in. America eyed him suspiciously, his Nixon like suspicion rising at the possibility of a secret that may, in some way, impact him even slightly. Or not but he would decide damn it.
"Well he said he was coming here for a vacation, so I'm just wondering if he's still around." America mentioned, almost offhandedly but England caught the sharp look his eyes had taken on.
"Ah, yes, Matthew did mention visiting Francis before he disappeared." England hurriedly explained as he stepped back once more, his robes slipping over the bear to better hide the ursine animal.
"What, Francis? How long ago did he disappear?"
"Just this morning, he didn't even stay one night after landing, just up and disappeared."
"Arthur, he came here yesterday. Were you in the basement the whole time?" America asked curiously, his paranoia dissipating as he leaned forward to stare directly into the Englishman's green eyes opened wide in surprise.
"What, its morning already?" Japan cleared his throat, calling attention to him.
"Actually Arthur-san, it is in fact three in the afternoon."
"What! Dear god, is it really that late?"
"Yeah, yeah it is." America cockily proclaimed, smirking at the look of surprise on the shorter nations face.
England sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Ugh, I didn't know it was that bloody late." He glanced to the pair of nations still in his basement. "Well, it is getting late so I suppose that you two are going to want something to eat." The pair of nations blanched before exchanging a look.
"No no, that's perfectly alright we have to go and look for Mattie, right Kiku?"
"Y-yes, yes we should leave lest Matthew-san get further away."
"So Francis's place?" America quickly asked Japan who nodded vigorously.
"Yes, let's go now. It was nice seeing you Arthur-san." Japan said to England, dipping into a short bow to the other nation.
"Yeah, see ya Artie." America proclaimed as he shoved Japan up the stairs, the slamming of the basement door and the pattering of footsteps receding in the distance informing England that his guests had departed. England stared at the staircase blankly for a minute.
"Hmm, they must have already eaten." England mused to himself, stroking his chin contemplatively. Then he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. "Gah, what the devil?" He cried, leaping away from the circle, his robes uncovering the small polar bear lying on the floor with a disgusted look on its furry white face.
"Ptoo, not food." The bear complained. England glared at the white fluff ball.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" He demanded. The bear looked up at him curiously.
"Hungry." England sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he tried to calm down. Finally regaining control, he gave the bear a strained smile.
"Ah, Matthew did you want something to eat?" He asked the bear, squatting before it. The bear continued to eye him curiously, cocking its head to the side.
"Who?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes you."
"Oh." With that, the bear yawned and flopped down on the clothes. England sighed before taking off his black robes, hanging them on a nearby hook then leaning down, hefting the bear up into his arms with a grunt.
"Good lord lad, you being the second largest country is becoming rather apparent." England grunted as he struggled up the stairs with Kumajirou in his arms. The bear merely yawned in response; the wide framed glasses remaining perched on his nose regardless of the sometimes jarring motions as England struggled his way up the stairs.
After struggling with the doorknob for a minute Arthur finally managed to work it open and stepped out of the basement, squinting when the bright light from the sun almost blinded him as his eyes struggled to adjust.
"Ugh, bloody bright out." He muttered dejectedly as he waddled into the dining room, dropping the bear into one of the four chairs surrounding the table, two places set for when Hong Kong had called as he had believed that it would just be the two of them. Sighing in relief that he had rid himself of the cumbersome animal he made his way into the kitchen, rubbing his arms from the soreness that had set into them. "I knew all that maple syrup would be bad for him." He muttered to himself, still more than a little irked that what he believed to be a transformed Canada would weigh so much.
Once he entered the kitchen he opened the fridge and examined the various items in the fridge critically, a fore finger tapping his chin in contemplation.
Hmm, whatever he would make should have lots of nutrition since the boy hadn't eaten for almost a full day, something that would give Canada plenty of energy since he had seemed rather lazy, a characteristic he had not attributed to the Canadian.
A disturbing thought occurred to England then. Was the sudden flip in personality the fault of the transformation? It was a disturbing prospect, only further reinforcing England's desire to change the other nation back as soon as possible.
Finally deciding to make some liver with a side of carrots, he pulled the meat from the fridge and plopped it down on the stove before squatting before a cupboard and pulled out a pan. Sticking it on the stove, he turned the heat on to max and slapped the liver down on the pan before returning to the fridge, pulling out a stick of carrot. Bringing to the sink, he steadily and meticulously washed the vegetable of any dirt or the like before turning off the tap, bringing it to a cutting board nearby. There, he expertly cut the carrot into several dozen small pieces. Satisfied, he went to the cupboard where he kept the silverware, pulling out a plate before placing the carrots unto it.
Realizing he had perhaps left the bear alone for long enough, he went back to the dining room to check on the white puff ball.
Kumajirou was chewing on the lip of the table.
"Matthew! Stop that you bloody idiot." England barked, pulling the bear's head away from the table with little resistance.
"Hungry." The bear protested before spitting out a splinter.
"Well if you give me a minute I'll get you some food." England informed the bear before turning, and heading back towards the kitchen, pausing just as he was about to enter. "And stop chewing on the table." He chastised the bear, which gave him a sullen look but stopped inching his head closer to the wooden table. England gave an acknowledging nod before returning to the kitchen.
And to the harsh blare of the smoke detector.
"Bloody hell!" England spat as he grabbed a nearby dishtowel, fanning the smoke from the pan on the stove to a nearby window with one hand while the other desperately turned off the stove. Finally managing to turn off the heat, he pulled the pan off the still hot element and placed it on a cold one, sighing in relief as the smoke began to dissipate.
Pulling open and rummaging through a drawer, he pulled free a spatula and brought the cooling pan over to the plate he had set out earlier, already set with the carrots he had cut up. Scraping the now charred liver off the pan, he gave a proud look at what could barely been considered food under even the most unfortunate circumstances.
"By joe, not nearly as burned as before. You're getting better my good man." England mused cheerily to himself as he cut the liver in two and brought out another plate, putting the second half of the liver on it for himself.
Picking up the plates, the sandy blond re-entered the dining room and placed a plate before the bear before taking his own and plopping down onto his own place. England picked up the knife and fork before sawing, as what he was doing to the almost wooden texture of the food formerly known as liver could only be described as such, a piece of it off. England stabbed the meat and looked across the table, only to drop his jaw in shock.
There, on the other side of the table, what he believed to be the nation of Canada was chewing enthusiastically on the charred piece of meat he had been provided.
England was flabbergasted; he had never seen anyone willingly eat his cooking more than once unless they wanted something out of it (France was no longer invited to dinner at his place after he had realized this).
Perhaps his former colony was finally developing a sense of taste? He would have to find a way to have Canada keep that part when he turned him back.
"Don't eat with you ha-... paws Matthew, use the fork." Kumajirou looked up at the Englishman in confusion before looking to the fork and knife beside the plate.
"... No." Kumajirou answered to both the request to use the silverware and the confusion England seemed to have with his name.
"Why not?" England demanded in confusion.
"Don't know how." Was the reply from the bear before it returned to chewing on the piece of liver. England stared at the bear in shock, had the Canadian forgotten how to use such utensils, then again it was his fault anyway.
"I-I see. Do you like it?" He asked, hoping to change the subject and possibly feed his ego, the last part was completely unintentional of course.
"It's chewy." The bear responded before returning to trying to devour the charred food.
"Is... that a good thing?" The bear did not respond, rather he just kept chewing on the liver. "Jolly good then." England uttered before returning to his own dinner. Soon, both occupants of the table had finished their livers which had, to be honest, resembled charred briquettes more so than anything remotely edible. England sighed in satisfaction before glancing across the table to the bear, who was now chewing on the table again.
"Matthew, stop that."
"Who?"
"You."
"What?"
"Chewing on the table, stop doing it." England glanced to the plate in front of the bear before frowning even deeper. "And eat your vegetables."
"No, I don't like them." The bear protested, the glasses shifting on his muzzle as he glared at the carrots. Britain examined the bear cautiously. He didn't remember Canada being so belligerent when he was under his care.
"You will eat your vegetables." Kumajirou glared his beady black eyes at the blonde he knew as Arthur. What's his face didn't feed him vegetables, sure he forgot his name but at least he realized that Kumajirou was a carnivore.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't wanna."
"You're being difficult. Now, you are going to stay there until you finish your vegetables." England declared firmly, crossing his arms over his chest adamantly. He smirked slightly as he watched what he believed to be his former colony looked at the plate forlornly. He knew he had won when he saw that look.
Then Kumajirou started chewing on the table again.
"Damn it all Matthew!"
"Who?"
At least he had stopped chewing on the table.
()()()
France was having a bad morning. No, scratch that, he had been having a bad day since last night when he had gotten home. Not only had his plan to keep his lapin at his house backfired, but now he was with the Euro pedo the Netherlands. France clenched his fists in anger as he thought about the two of them, together.
France knew that Canada was still a virgin, which was one of the reasons he so enjoyed teasing the Canadian with things like lingerie and the ilk being sent as presents, which of course was one of the reasons he had given the other nation the revealing garment earlier that day. He felt his face heat up slightly at the thought and he grinned a little at the image.
He really wanted Canada to stay at his home, but Egypt really didn`t like him. As long as the African/Middle Eastern nation was around he would have no chance at being close to Canada. Not to mention there was Hong Kong, accursed little cock blocker. France felt his face fall when he remembered the boy who had forced him to go shopping, he hadn`t even been allowed one piece of clothing that Canada would have looked good in, he had tried to sneak one in but the boy was meticulous when paying.
He had given him such a dirty look when he joked about a made in China label too.
.France felt a smirk worm its way across his face when he realized that now Holland would have to deal with the overprotective (but maybe not so much when France was involved) Asian. As long as Hong Kong was around, France would still have a chance.
Cheered considerably, he sat up from his slumped position eagerly before clasping his hands together before him, leaning his chin on them in thought.
He still had a chance, but he couldn`t do anything while the Chinese boy was hanging off his Mathieu, yet at the same time he would not overtly get rid of Hong Kong, he doubted Canada would approve. A conundrum if he had ever heard of one. But France was adept at getting what he wanted, when he wanted and who he wanted.
His attempt at solving the riddle of how to regain his little Canadians from the grip of Hong Kong while at the same time maintaining a manner of getting Hong Kong on his side was interrupted when he heard the phone give a shrill ring of warning.
After contemplating wallowing in misery in favour of answering the phone, he grudgingly rose and stalked over to the ringing device, cursing whoever had for not calling his cell phone so that he could have remained where he was.
With a sigh he picked up the phone. "'ello, what is it?"
"Francis, good your there." France's eyebrows rose with surprise.
"Arthur, what do you want, did you miss me?" He playfully teased, his mood lifting at the outlet provided in the form of the Englishman on the other end of the phone.
"Th- Shut up you bloody frog."
"But then how could we talk to each other." France teased with a smirk.
"Argh, just listen damn it all. Alfred's likely coming over there looking for Matthew." France paled slightly. Uh oh, England knew that he had taken Canada, but how? Did Hong Kong say that in the note he left? France scowled at that thought before recalling that he was on the phone.
"Ahaha, what are you talking about Angleterre, Mathieu is not here." France explained, keeping the nervousness out of his voice with no small degree of difficulty.
"I know that frog; I'm just giving you a heads up." France was caught off guard for a moment at the admission but soon bounced back before the pause could last long enough for suspicions to arise.
"Ah, so you do care." France airily responded with a chuckle. "Then again, maybe you're just looking for a favour."
"What?"
"You don't have to Arthur, after all I would only be too happy to help you with anything." France said huskily, drawing out the anything. He smirked when he heard the sputtering over the phone.
"J-just shut up, I don-."
"Hungry?" France's eyebrows rose slightly.
"Who is that?" France asked curiously. "Are you cheating on me?" He teased playfully.
"Nobody, and what do you mean cheating? We ar- stop chewing on that, that's the phone cord." France raised an eyebrow at that. Did England get a pet? It didn't sound like something the Englishman would do since he had his 'fairy' friends and 'mint coloured bunny'.
"You have a pet? Since when?" France asked, genuinely curious.
"It's not mine blast it, he's- not any of your business goodbye."
"D'accord, aurevoir." With that, the line went dead before France hung the phone up with a thoughtful look on his face. So, America was coming over to his place looking for his brother and he was bringing Japan. Interesting but, when would they even be getting to his home? That question was soon answered when he heard the crash of his door impacting the wall.
"The hero is here to save you Mattie, oh and Francis too if you're here." France rolled his eyes at the other nation. How generous of America to include him as the afterthought in his heroic rescues.
"Bonjour Amerique, I'm in the living room." France called out as he returned to his spot on the couch to wait for his guests. They soon entered, America's eyes scanning the room and Japan following him calmly, rolling his eyes slightly at the Americans wariness before sitting beside each other on a nearby love seat.
"France, are you ok wait! Don't answer yet, they may have bugged the room, blink twice if you're being held hostage." Japan coughed from America's shoulder to grab his attention.
"Alfred-san, if 'they' had bugged the room you would have told 'them' that you were suspicious." Americas face took on an expression of dawning realization.
"Oh my god your right."
"Who are 'they' anyway?" France casually asked from the couch he was sprawled on.
"Commies of course." America stated matter-of-factly. "So, is Mattie here or not?" France sighed grandly before lazily waving his hand dismissively.
"Alas, he has gone with Hong Kong and," France paused and shuddered, rubbing his arms as if cold, "Egypt to visit with Lars." America's eyes opened wide and Japan looked rather unsettled by that.
"Lars."
"Oui."
"As in druggie pedo Lars?"
"Oui."
"As in the one who has a crush on Mattie since the Second World War."
"Oh my, and they say you can't read the atmosphere." France mused to himself with a smirk, figuring that someone had probably just told the American, most likely Hungary or Belgium when he thought about it.
"Wait, what do they say about me?" America asked in confusion.
"Alfred-san, I fear you are getting sidetracked again." Japan whispered to the other nation. America gasped and shot to his feet.
"Oh, shit. Right. We have to save Mattie from being converted to Communism with drugs and stuff. Thanks France, hold on Mattie, I'm coming to save you!" America loudly declared before rushing off towards the door. Japan sighed and gave a stiff bow to France.
"Arigato Francis, thank you for your assistance." Japan uttered stiffly before turning to follow America.
"It was nothing Kiku, and you had best confess soon or someone will steal him away." France sang lightly, watching in amusement as Japan turned several shades of red before hastily excusing himself and following America. France smirked at his antics as he heard the door close (slam) behind the retreating nations.
France sighed, reminded of his situation by the silence in his home as he lay down on the couch, an arm and leg hanging loosely off the side of the piece of furniture. Bored now, he considered calling Spain or maybe Prussia to hang out with him, or maybe Belgium. He was feeling somewhat listless and having them eat chocolate off each other would certainly provide a distraction.
Now smiling with the formation of a plan, he pulled out his cell phone intending to call the Belgian woman. Flipping it open and observing the small digital clock displaying the numbers 10:12 he was about to go through his contacts when the phone rang. Surprised, he closed it and re-opened it to find a message from the Dutch nation whose sister he had been about to call.
France rolled his eyes at receiving a message from Holland, the man was clearly high. He wondered if Canada was doing drugs with him again. The blonde sighed before realizing there was a photo sent to him. Curious, he opened it, the sight causing his eyes to widen to the size of saucers and the majority of his blood heading south rapidly.
"Mon dieu."
Here is another update for you fine folks. Now I'm going to go back to the writer's hole of procrastination for another few weeks. Don't forget to leave a review.