Sjuende januar:
Europe:
Sometimes Europe just loved her people; she was filled with pride for them.
Other times, she couldn't believe how spoiled some of them could be! Everyone whom celebrated St. Distaff's Day, agreed that it was a day to be celebrated. Yet, despite the tradition clearly stating that women of all classes were to spin on the wheel during the evening, some of the women of higher standing had the gall to find this beneath them!
Europe couldn't for the existence of her understand how they dared thinking that they were above a tradition they agreed with.
Japan:
-Chickweed, cudweed, nipplewort, oenanthe javanica, radish, shepherd's purse and turnip, Kiku Honda, Japan, was muttering to himself as he prepared for the Festival of Seven Herbs. He'd done this for a thousand years, but he found it soothing for his frantic mind to name every one of his ingredients, and tools. Now I just need to locate the shamoji and the suribachi.
When he'd gathered everything he needed, he chanted the same chant he'd chanted last year, and the year before that,
-Before the birds of the continent fly to Japan, let's get nanakusa. As he chanted this, he chopped his ingredients into pieces, then grounding them.
When he was satisfied with his job, he carefully took the nanakusa out to his living room, thankful that he'd let the sliding door be open as the bowl was so big that he'd to use both hands to carry it.
-My deepest and sincerest apologies if I kept you waiting, he said when he entered.
-Not at all, aru, Yao Wang, China said. But I wonder, aru, why you only invited me?
-Because this custom descends from a custom of your country, and I thought it only proper to invite you as an homage.
-Why now, aru?
-I think it was the Family Day, Kiku said thoughtfully, that America, ah, "suggested", that we celebrate that brought it on. It reminded me that I've been meaning to give homage to you for many a thing, as my former caretaker, for a long time, and now our countries are on speaking terms again, so I thought the time was now.
North Italy:
The little Italian was racing through the streets of Italy, he'd been running from Venice to Reggio Emilia.
To make sure that he would be able to run this fast, he'd asked England to be at the Rialto Bridge armed with a plate of his scones. As a thank you, he'd get an all-expenses-paid week at Hotel Danieli.
With the threat of an Englishman, and even worse; his scones, Italy Veneziano had been confident he could get to Reggio Emilia in time. And that he did.
Running into Reggio Emilia, he barely remembered to salute at the coat of arms, remembering his Grandpa Rome. Thanks to this salute, he calmed down long enough to not running in panic, although this made him winded.
After a bowl of pasta, and an ordinary seven-course meal, he was ready to proceed. He proceeded to Piazza San Prospero. There he proudly waved the one thing that he'd protected on the long journey here, the one thing all his bosses and all his people agreed on protecting; his flag.
Exhausted but proud, he waved the flag on Tricolor Day.
That he could've used his car all the way, had completely slipped his mind.
Russia:
Raivis Galante, Latvia, was the last one to arrive, as evident by the texts sent to him from Edouard von Beck, Estonia; anxiously wondering where he was, and Ivan Braginsky, Russia; demanding to know where he was. So, when he knocked on Ivan's door, there was no wonder that he was trembling.
The door was opened by Toris Laurinaitis, Lithuania. He helped him with his coat and the rest of his outerwear. Even his shoes as Raivis was trembling too much to be able to take them off himself.
When he finally was ready, Toris took him to the living room, almost taking the wrong turn once or twice, Ivan's home was that big, where the others were waiting, both for him and for the food that Ivan, whom weren't present yet, would bring from the kitchen.
Toris indicated which chair was Raivis' before he himself sat down next to Natalya Arlovskaya, Belarus, Ivan's younger sister. The other occupants at the table was Ivan's older sister, Chernenko, Ukraine, with her boyfriend Carlos Machado, Cuba, Irina Vlad, Romania, with her boyfriend Roderich Edelstein, Austria, Dragomir Ivanovich, Bulgaria, with his girlfriend Emma Vanderbilt, Belgium and Edouard with his girlfriend Mercedes Fernandez Carriedo, Catalonia. And still, there were big gaps of space around the table.
The only one not present, sans Ivan of course, were the boyfriend of their host, Yao Wang, China. He was otherwise occupied and had regrettably turned down the invitation.
As Raivis sat down he was jealous at Yao for that. Not that he was otherwise occupied; he himself had been otherwise occupied… until Ivan called him and invited him. No, he was more jealous over the fact that Yao could get away with declining an invitation from Ivan.
Raivis had been seated for thirty seconds before Ivan came in with plate after plate filled with food; aspic, blini, closed and open style pirogi, cooked casseroles, goose with apples, kalachi, kholodets, lamb, roasted meat chunks, roasted pig, sour cream hare, stuffed pig's head, venison and whole fish. And the sweet dishes; angel wings, berries, biscuits, cakes, candy, fruit and honey. Then he brought in the beverages; broths, Chinese tea, which got the honorary place, and kissel.
Finally, everything was in place, and they could start eating. The food and drink were excellent, no matter what else might've been said about Russian hospitality; that was true.
Although Raivis trembled every time Ivan talked, he'd to admit that it was more out of habit than anything else. But, it would still 've been nicer if Yao had been here too; the Chinese nation had his own special way of placating Ivan.
South Italy:
There were few days of the year that Romano didn't sleep until late. This was one of those days.
But no matter how tired he would've been, he could always understand the rapid Italian his younger brother Veneziano would use when excited or exhausted. So, when a wheezing Veneziano called him (really, he hadn't heard his brother wheeze this bad since last year. Not even the Potato Bastard's training had procured this kind of wheezing), he understood that Veneziano had ran from Venice to Reggio Emilia to wave their flag. And now needed a lift back home.
-Idiot, Romano chided him as he pulled out one of his car keys, couldn't you just' ve driven there?
More wheezing.
-You forgot? Again?
Even more wheezing.
-Forget it. I said forget it, fratello! Just find a safe place to wait, and I'll be there in fifteen or less.
He was there in less, and as he drove his brother home, he thought about how different the two brothers were; he'd also waved their flag, but only as he hung the flag on the front terrace. Travelling all the way to Reggio Emilia seemed a little overdramatic, but then again, Veneziano had always been the more dramatic of the pair, Romano thought.
Author's note:
I don't own Hetalia