A/N: ...Wow, why did I talk like such a weeaboo teeny bopper in my old Author's Notes? Forever shame on my family.
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It was the only time Germany ever saw Italy run fast, not including while retreating. The young Italian sped down the green field, keeping the white and black ball in perfect distance from his feet. Germany flanked him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Seeing his opportunity, he threw his leg out, not expecting Feliciano to kick it away, spinning himself around to shoot the ball into the net.
Italy: 24
Germany: 19
"Yeah! I win! I win!" Feli sang, dancing around himself, before letting himself fall onto the lush football field grass. He took in gulps of air, grinning all the while, the running catching up with him as his stared up at the clear blue sky. Germany chuckled lightly, lowering himself to the ground with a bit more dignity.
"Why couldn't you have run like that during battle?" He asked.
"Easy, because I wasn't playing football!" Italy shrugged. "Not that it matters anyway, everyone is finally getting along somewhat, and even though they still bicker, no one is fighting, so I don't have to run away!" He explained with his oh-so-cheery attitude.
"Yeah." Ludwig sighed, "I guess that's true. I have to say, this whole world peace thing is nice."
"Well of course it is! It's peaceful!"
"Smart ass."
The two allies lifted themselves off the ground and walked over to the small bench where they had left their things. Germany took a big swing from his water bottle, while North Italy packed up his ball. "Hey Ludwig! Are you excited for the party at America's house tonight? I heard there is going to be lots of beer and explosions!"
"I guess." Ludwig shrugged, stuffing his water bottle into his gym bag. "It'll be fine as long as we keep Prussia away from the beer."
"I don't think that's possible."
"One can only hope. Leave it to him to start a drunken fight." Ludwig sighed before starting the walk back to Feliciano's car. "Come on Italy!" He called over his shoulder, not really bothering to look behind him. Of course, if he had, he would have been prepared for Feli launching himself onto the taller man's back.
"Piggy back ride!" He sang, wrapping his twiggy arms around Germany's thick neck. Ludwig sighed, carrying the young man without a problem towards the car. He really needed a beer.
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And beer there was.
The party was typical with a group such as themselves. A perfect blend of friendly gathering and chaos. Groups were scattered around Alfred's home, people leaving one group to talk with another, mingling, laughing, having a great time, and avoiding the ones they didn't exactly get along with. Poland and Liechtenstein took up a love-seat, Poland speaking passionately about the latest European fashions, while Liechtenstein simply smiled and nodded, shyly adding her two cents here and there, all the while wondering where her dear older brother was. Switzerland and Austria were still in the foyer- Austria hadn't taken two steps in the front door before Switzerland had demanded what he was doing there. They bickered and bickered about a lot of nothing, jumping from subject to subject, neither really every getting angry with the other.
Poland had arrived around the same time as Sweden and Finland, who both sat on another love seat. Sweden simply stared ahead, occasionally at his companion with his intense, intimidating gaze, while Finland squirmed in his seat, scared out of his wits to say or do something. Not far from them, and completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere, Greece took up an entire sofa, snoozing away, a cat perched atop his head. Of course, Turkey would have taken the first chance to piss him off, but he was a little busy. The Turk was currently trying to make off with Romano, claiming 'He had said he would be back for the boy', ignoring Romano's insults and bickering with an inflamed Spain.
Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia watched from not far away, hiding behind a large column. The trembling trio, though, were not hiding from the argument beside them, no. Just a few yards in front of them was Russia, sitting in a simple wooden chair, smiling cheerfully at nothing. Perhaps he was simply basking in the little fights around him. But Australia would have none of that. The Aussie snuck up behind the larger nation, whispering five words- "Belarus is looking for you". That was all it took for Russia to bolt up out of the chair and run for his dear life, leaving Australia on the floor laughing.
England observed all of this in amusement, a small glass of America's beer in his hand. Usually he would prefer a bit of rum or whiskey, but for now, beer would suffice. The blonde nation glanced around the room, searching for the birthday boy, but he was no where to be found. He frowned, it was his party, where the devil could he be? With a sigh, he started off to look for his former colony.
But as he walked through the halls of the mansion, Arthur couldn't help but feel reminiscent of the time when said boy was his colony, a small boy under his care, bringing a little more light into his life with every smile. He chuckled lightly, he was starting to sound like a sentimental old man. Those days were long past, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, they were simply in a new day- with new adventures and annoyances.
"Bloody hell, where am I?" Arthur asked himself as he was brought out of his thoughts. He found himself in a part of the house he no longer remembered, a wing he hadn't visited much. "Alfred!" He called out, hoping the idiot was somewhere nearby. He took a few stepped forward, before he noticed a door hanging slightly open, but the inside was pitch black.
Curiosity got the best of him, pushing him to the door. England opening the door, squeaking on its hinges, as if it hasn't been opening until recently after a century of dormancy. Stepping in, he realized that there wasn't much light, or a light switch, so he had to make do with the light streaming in from the hallway. It was an old storage room, covered in thick layers of dust. He noticed, though, that a few items didn't hold as much grim as the others, meaning that they had been recently picked up.
At first, he didn't recognize them, but eventually, the objects snapped into his memory. Closest to him was an old, navy blue suit. To his right, sitting on an old chest, was a forgotten toy soldier set. The room was filled with things that brought up many memories, good and bad. Arthur's breath hitched in his throat when he spotted the musket lying on the floor, a single scratch on the wood making him cringe. Still though... He smirked. It was almost hard to believe that Alfred had kept these things all those years.
Maybe there was hope for the git, yet.
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Alfred smirked, wiping the sweat off his brow with his fore arm. He had left the party about 20 minutes ago to help set-up the fireworks display, and was finally done. "Wait until Matt sees this, he'll love it." He smirked. Clapping the dirt off his hands, he turned around and headed inside. Upon opening the door, he was met with a great sight, his friends having a good time at his party. It brought on a sense of satisfaction. Shaking his head, Alfred brought himself back to the task at hand- finding his brother.
He passed through the main living room, where most of the other nations were, looking left a right for him. Granted, it wasn't surprising that he couldn't seem to see him. Matthew had always had a way of... blending into his surroundings. The only people who ever really recognized him were himself, France and sometimes England- and even to them, he slipped under the radar at times. To everyone else, well, their eyes seemed to pass over him, unless he drew attention to himself. It wasn't out of spite, or ignorance, Matt was just... shy.
Alfred sighed, nearly giving him when he ended up by the food table. His brother would just have to wait with everyone else, even if he would have wanted to make sure everything was secure; paranoid as he was. But just as he was about to give up, he picked up on two voices, speaking in the same tongue, but with different accents. He looked in the direction of the noise, finding Canada and France around the corner, small glasses in their hands, simply leaning against the wall and talking. Matthew seemed to be a tad upset about something, which triggered a small from on Alfred's face.
"Je veux dire, je m `pas jaloux ou quoi que ce soit, on se sent comme personne ne se soucie...'' Matthew muttered, his head hanging low.
''Bien sûr, tout le monde se soucie, Matthieu. Vous venez de... eh bien, vous...'' Francis trailed off.
''Ouais, je m`invisible. Je sais.'' The Canadian said quietly, distaste dripping in his words.
Francis quickly cut in. ''Aucun Matthieu, vous n'êtes pas invisibles. Vous êtes juste un garçon timide. Vous et votre frère sont différents, il est un peu plus sociable que vous, il jette les grands partis. Votre parti a été merveilleuse, simple. Ne pas le comparer à la sienne.''
Matthew shook his head and sighed, taking a sip of his drink. ''Je sais, je viens de ... presque personne ne vint. Personne ne se soucie du Canada, ou son anniversaire. C'est une question de l'Amérique, je suis toujours dans son ombre.''
Now, Alfred could not speak french to save his life, he barely spoke Spanish, but with his short time with France before England became his guardian, he had picked up on a few words, and he definably knew his own name. His eyes brows furrowed- trying to translate as much as he could. As far as he could tell, Matthew was upset because no one paid attention to him, even on his birthday.
His birthday party had only been 3 days ago, over at his place. He had invited everyone, but hardly anyone showed up. Just France, England, himself, and Finland. Matt had seemed fine with it, just happy that he was celebrating his birthday with his friends, but even Alfred could see that he was torn up.
The young nation sighed. He had never meant to overshadow his brother, it just... happened. Ever since they were children, raised by their mother Native America, they had been different, but in a way that balanced each other out. Alfred was wild, free spirited, and loud. Matthew was sweet, free spirited, and shy. It was usually the case with a lot of twins, and they were no different, despite being nations. But for some reason, Alfred had been put in the spot light, Matthew hiding at the edge. America had ignored it for a long time, not really wanting to realize he was even himself ignoring his brother, but he vowed, no more. He would no longer stand aside while his brother was being forgotten.
Alfred smirked, a crazy idea popping into his head.
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A group of teenagers sat around a round desk, feet up, lounging lazily on their chairs. They were all young men, around 18 years old, dressed in rugged clothing. They certainly didn't have their mother's check their wardrobe- or their company for that matter. The dank air of the old shed they were in was filled with the stench of weed, mixed with their drunken breath.
The door creaked open, letting no more light in on the clear July night. Another young man walked in, a bag in one hand, and what seemed to be a rolled up paper in the other. He dropped the paper onto the table with a soft thump, the title page looking up at them.
Happy Independence Day 2012 America.
Who celebrates Independence Day better than Washington DC? No one of course. The political leasers are all getting into party mode here in DC, including President Obama...
''Alright, what is this, and why do we care?'' One of them asked, his voice slightly slurred.
''Skip to paragraph eight.'' The new comer ordered, taking up a chair.
''Which one is that?''
''The eighth one, dumb ass.''
''Alright, alright.'' He replied, taking a closer look at the paper, squinting his eyes to ease the alcoholic vision. He read aloud.
19 year old Adviser, Alfred F. Jones of the 1700's Jones manner, is throwing his annual party, an exclusive affair on the inside, but as always the fireworks display will be seen by everyone on the West side, starting at 11:00. Set up your lawn chairs everyone, you're in for a treat! As always, the display shows symbolization in American pride, with the addition of a representation of all other countries, but no show every year is the same.
All occupants of the shed turned their attention to the news bearer, sick grins spreading across their mouths. Their leader, the last one to enter, straitened himself in arrogant pride. ''You know what I'm thinking boys.''
''A bit of fun with Jones? Barely seen the guy since High School.''
''Little prick went straight from school to the white house.''
''Family business he said.''
''What does it matter? The bastard walked around the place like he was some kind of hero. Always talking about how he was gonna make this country better, acting like he was too good for us.'' The leader grinned, slipping a small pistol out of his pocket.
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Well, what do you think? The whole, 'plate moving' thing will come in later, just in case you're wondering. I just thought I'd put in some back story first.
Oh, and here's the English translation of France and Canada's conversation.
Matt: I mean, I'm not jealous or anything, It just feels like no one cares...
Francis: Of course every one cares, Matthieu. You just...well, you...
Matt: Yeah, I`m invisible. I know.
Francis: No Matthieu, you are not invisible. You are just a shy boy. You and your brother are different, he is a little more outgoing than you, he throws bigger parties. Your party was wonderful, simple. Do not compare it to his.
Matt: I know, I just...hardly anyone came. No one cares about Canada, or his birthday. It's all about America, I'm always in his shadow.
Reviews? Russia wants you to... : D