"Alright! Everyone get a space near the trough!" Germany commanded. "Now, Italy, get the soap."
"Veeeee, where's the soap?"
"I'll help you find it, mon amour," France offered, winking at the younger Italian.
"Absolutely not!" Germany yelled yanking France back to the trough.
"But he will get lost if I don't go with him!" the perverted blond insisted, struggling to pull away.
"I'll go get the soap since I'm the hero!" America chimed in.
"Shut the hell up!"
After about 10 minutes of squabbling, Germany had to get the soap himself, but was met with another headache when he returned. Apparently America had boasted about his ability to hold his breath underwater or something of the like for Romano was attempting to force his head under the water.
"Romano, let go of America!" he shouted.
"But I'm right here." America replied at Germany's side.
"…Romano, let go of Bashful!" the tallest blond corrected.
"Ah, mon cheri, you look wonderful when your hair is in front of your eyes! It gives you a most intriguing...what was that word America said? "Emo" look?" France complimented, sidling up to the soaked twin.
"Bashful, I will protect you because I am the hero!" America surged forward, pushing France away.
"But, America," Spain started. "Why didn't you protect Italy?"
"Because Germany could kick the crap out of France much faster than I could," was his response, completely ignoring a very embarrassed looking Germany.
"Veeeee, Germany always helps me out of a pinch, we're best friends!" Italy agreed, hugging the already blushing blond.
"He's just trying to take advantage of you!" the Italian's brother accused, jabbing a finger in the German's direction.
"Aw, Romano are you lonely? You need a hug, too!" Spain happily pronounced, wrapping his arms around the older Italian.
"Get off me dammit!" Romano started struggling, flinging water from his hands in all directions; some landed on the sleeping Greece.
"What's going on?" he asked rubbing his eyes. But no one paid him any heed, Romano trying to escape from an enthusiastic Spain, and France badgering a rather red-faced Canada, albeit being constantly interrupted by a "heroic" America.
Germany twitched. And then twitched again for good measure. "All of you, settle down, right now!" He demanded in his most authoritative tone.
Surprisingly, everyone one froze, sans Greece who had fallen back to sleep. "Just put the soap on your hands and rub them together."
"Like this?" Italy mimicked cutely, somehow ending up with spare soap suds on the tip of his nose.
"Y-yes." Germany, blushing furiously, glanced away.
After about another ten minutes they all finally got their hands clean, except for Canada who had been soaked after Romano attempted (and nearly succeeded) to drown him—the Italian had apologized profusely, if not rather sullenly, at Spain's insistence.
"There you all are!" Japan exclaimed exasperated. "How long does it take to wash your hands!? I already finished making the pasta."
"Pasta!!!" Italy cheered, rushing towards the table.
"Wait until everybody's seated, that's the proper protocol." Germany insisted, although his advice went unheated
"The Hero should be served first!" America chimed in, running after the Italian.
"Shut up!"
"Ah! Romano, you look just like a tomato when you yell. So cute!" Spain cooed.
"Get off and stop patting my head!"
Surprisingly dinner went without incident, aside from France having to save Greece from falling face first into his pasta, and America having to save Greece from France.
"Veee, Japan, we should have a party!" Italy suggested excitedly.
"Um, that would be fun…" Canada whispered shyly
"I'll get the streamers, and a piñata, and a Christmas tree!" America declared, throwing a fist up in the air.
"Christmas trees are for freaking Christmas you idiot!"
"But…but I like Christmas trees," America whined, expression falling to a dejected pout.
"Forget about the Christmas trees, we need mistletoe for l'amour, don't you think so Italy?" Pervy put in, sidling towards the Italian.
Germany responded by quickly stepping in front of Italy and glaring daggers at France, then at the stairs, causing him to back down very quickly.
"Um, isn't Christmas a while away?" asked Japan, a bit perplexed.
"Yes, but it would be fun and we want to celebrate your arrival!" Spain explained "Romano, you can help me pick out the decorations!"
"Like hell!"
However, Romano didn't have much say in the matter. Oblivious to the threats and insults, Spain dragged the poor chibi off to find ornaments for the tree, which America volunteered enthusiastically to cut down.
Japan smiled at the overall silliness, and the cuteness overload, considering all involved were chibis. This would definitely be a fun event, despite the inevitable chaos.