All right then. Hi everyone. This took longer than expected to put up. But there is a reason. During the week, I now have Driver's Ed, two hours a day, five times a week. Once that's over with, updates should pick up a little. But bear with us here.
That being said, here's the chapter. Thank you for reading, everyone ^^
Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, Russia and America would actually interact
The seven chibis were heading home from mining as they did everyday when the sun was beginning to set. It had been a good day at work, many jewels having been collected, and minimal trouble arising. But that all came to an end when a flustered America ran up to them, about 20 minutes away from their home.
"Guys, guys!" America began excitedly, pointing wildly over his shoulder. "I was patrolling the area—"
"You mean skipping out on doing your share of the work. Again," Romano interjected, short temper already incited.
"No, it is work! Some one has to make sure no evil is lurking a foot," America protested, waving his arms to emphasize his point. "And since I'm the hero…"
"We know, America, we know," Germany sighed exasperatedly. "But would you please get to the point?"
"I would if you guys stopped interrupting me!" America accused, before continuing. "ANYWAY, I was going about my usual duties, looking out for danger and all that, when I saw the light on at our house. And it was off when we left, so that means someone's in there!!!" His waving arms reached record speed, flailing about.
Germany frowned, looking troubled. "Are you sure? And stop waving your arms or you might actually take someone's eye out this time."
"Of course I'm sure, I'm the hero!" the blond looked offended. "And I only hit Greece once! So what if he passed out? He's always asleep anyway…Besides, I'm the hero, so—"
"Dammit, stop saying that, you hero obsessed freak!" Romano interrupted angrily, cutting America off. "We know!"
"Veeee~don't fight, nii-chan!" Italy intervened, wrapping his arms loosely around his brother as if that would effectively restrain him.
"Veneciano, get off me!"
"Everyone, stop fooling around!" Germany ordered, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. "This could be serious. America, let's go."
"Of course!" the blond agreed ecstatically, bounding off in the direction of their home. "The hero always leads the way!"
"Shut the hell up!"
"Oi, Romano…That's not cute." Spain reprimanded, ruffling the younger chibi's hair.
"Stop touching me, dammit!" Romano dodged out of the tomato-lover's reach.
"Sssssshhhhhh!" America held a finger to his lips. "We're there, everyone. Quiet…" he whispered not caring how out of character actually doing so would make him seem.
Surprisingly, everyone fell silent, gazing out at their home from behind the cove of the surrounding trees. Night had more or less fallen by this point, and sure enough, the windows were glowing brightly within the darkness.
"Someone should go in," France suggested, a sleepy Greece nodding his agreement.
"You're always saying how you're the hero, America," Romano hissed from where he had decided to hide behind Spain. "You go in first!"
"But, I—!" America glanced between the house and the other chibis, clearly not wanting to be the first to investigate, but just as resolutely unwilling to put his title as self-proclaimed hero at stake.
"Be quiet, all of you!" Germany demanded strictly, glaring over at the squabbling duo from where he was trying to calm a distraught Italy. "I'll take care of this."
That said, the tallest chibi deposited a frantic Italy next to his equally fearful brother, before making his way into the dinky little cottage they called home. With his hand on the doorknob, Germany took a deep breath, steeling himself against the danger he might find inside. He turned it, pushing the door open cautiously…
To find nothing. But nothing, in and of itself, was unnerving. Not only had the lights apparently turned themselves on of their own free will, but the dirt and grime that usually adorned the majority of their home in excess was gone. Gone. By itself. Erie, though not particularly threatening. In fact, the change was rather welcome—Germany always hated living in all this filth, but with work and all, he hadn't had the time to clean.
Shaking his head free of such thoughts, Germany took a last thorough look around, before cautiously heading up the mutilated staircase (It wasn't his fault France saw it fit to molest Italy on a regular basis, or that said chibi always happened to collide with the staircase when thrown).
Germany eased the door open, just enough to fit his head through and cast a small stream of light. Three of the beds had been pushed together, and there was a small lump in their midst. Someone was in there.
Bracing himself, Germany straightened to his full (although, admittedly not very intimidating) height, before throwing open the door completely. The loud thud of it connecting sharply with the wall startled whoever was on the beds awake.
It appeared to be an effeminate young man, with hair black as midnight and pale skin. He looked thoroughly awake, despite the fact he had been sleeping mere moments previously, if not rather panicked, his dark eyes wide with shock. The appearance rang a faint bell in the chibi's head, but he couldn't call to mind exactly why it should.
"Who are you?" Germany asked, softening his voice when he realized the stranger was of no immediate threat.
The boy stared back at him, expression morphing into something like…delight? "Everyone back at my home calls me Snow White, but my actual name is Japan."
Snow White, of course. Germany mentally scolded himself. "The others are waiting outside…I'll be back shortly."
And with that, the chibi left, leaving Japan alone to ponder the recent events. He was alone in a strange cottage in the middle of the woods, that was apparently inhabited by…chibis? Japan internally squee-d to himself. So cute!
Deciding that "the others" would soon arrive, Japan got out of bed, straightening the sheets and making sure everything was in place, before heading downstairs. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make himself as presentable as possible, though there wasn't much he could do about his ruined dress.
No sooner had he stepped off the last stair then the front door flew open with a bang, a single figure darting inside.
"See, there's nothing to be afraid of Italy!" a bespectacled blond announced, after looking over the room's content thoroughly. "Just…Snow White, was it?"
"Y-yes," the prince confirmed, watching as the rest of the chibis stumbled in through the doorway. It was a good thing they were small, otherwise this house would be rather crowded. "But you can call me Japan."
"Veeee~ I'm Dopey," a brunette piped up from where he had attached himself to another brunette's arm. "But you can also call me Italy!" He nudged the chibi next to him with his head. "Veeee…nii-chan, introduce yourself."
Said chibi pouted, glaring at his brother. "I'm…Grumpy. But don't call me that! It's just some idiotic name this lot came up with. My real name's Romano."
"I'm Hero!" the blond from before introduced, before being hit over the head by Romano.
"You're Sneezy, idiot," Romano corrected. "If I get stuck with a dumb nickname, you have to put up with yours as well!"
"But that doesn't make any sense! I don't sneeze that…ah…aahhh…"
Somewhere, far far away, England muttered to himself in exasperation as he continued wandering around, now thoroughly lost. "America, you idiot…this is entirely your fault! Somehow…"
"AHCOO!" The protesting chibi was cut off by his own sneeze, successfully propelling himself into another blond similar in appearance to the first.
"Maple!" the other exclaimed, oddly, when his look-alike hit into him. After picking himself up, he smiled kindly at Japan. "I-I'm Bashful. I'm also called"—the first blond yelped as an angered Romano hit him once again, after insisting once again that his name really was 'Hero'—"but no one ever remembers that…"
"Just call me America," the other blond interrupted, clutching his battered skull. "Bashful and I are twins…even though we're nothing alike."
"I'm Doc," the tall blond who had woken Japan introduced himself. "But…I am often referred to as Germany."
Japan nodded politely, desperately trying to commit all this information to memory. He was interrupted by a small arm around his waist, and a voice from somewhere near his chest. "Bonjour, mon cher. I am France."
"A-ah…h-hi," Japan blushed vigorously, squirming out of the chibi's grasp.
"As the hero, I will protect you from Pervy!" America assured, frowning at France, as he placed himself heroically between the two. "That's his other name, by the way: Pervy. For obvious reasons."
"Such uncultured fools!" France cried, obviously offended. "To give me such a vulgar name…I am not a pervert!"
"Like hell you aren't!" Romano asserted, freeing himself of his younger brother only to hit into one of the two remaining nameless chibis.
"Romano, you really should watch where you're going," Spain scolded playfully, smiling widely and squealing in delight when the older Italian brother colored a vibrant red. "You look just like a little tomato! So cute!!!"
"Just introduce yourself already, bastard," Romano complained, struggling to fight his way out of the sudden glomp-like embrace he found himself in.
"Oh, I'm Happy!" Spain clarified, turning to look at Japan without releasing Romano. "I'm also known as Spain."
"And that's Greece," America proclaimed, pointing at the remaining chibi who had fallen asleep against the wall. "His name is Sleepy…again, for obvious reasons."
"It's nice to meet you all," Japan bowed politely. "Would it be all right if I stay for a little while? My evil soon-to-be stepsister is set on marrying my fiancé, her brother…and as I'm an obstacle to that goal she's currently trying to dispose of me. I don't really have anywhere else to stay—"
"Of course you can stay!" Italy assured, leaping up to try and glomp Japan, but having the surprising common sense to let go before he knocked the boy over backward.
"T-thank you very much!" Japan replied gratefully, rubbing at his neck.
"Veeeeeee~ I'm hungry," Italy whined, before suddenly perking up. "Hey, Japan! Can you make pasta?"
Japan nodded.
"Yaaaaaaay! Let's make pasta then." Italy clapped his hands together happily, before running over to the cabinets to get ingredients.
"Um…shouldn't you wash your hands first?" Japan began hesitantly.
"Mm…I guess." Some of the Italian's enthusiasm evaporated. Everyone else seemed to be of a like mind.
"Come on," Germany chided, picking Italy up by the shoulders and facing him towards the doors. He gave him a gentle shove.
Canada obediently followed suit, everyone else joining the two more or less willingly. Except for a resistant Romano that had to be dragged, literally, while kicking and screaming, by an unrelenting Germany. Japan just shook his head and began putting together dinner.