A/N; -Bows- Sumimasen! I'm such a lazy otaku. But the chapter's here now. Sorry it's short, I had a change of plans. Not going to have a long chapter until a -certain- event in the future. And I a review fromFeatherLeaf. Thank you! It was a real eye-opener! I will take your advice. Tough-love is always accepted in any form, long or short review. Enjoy~
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, (why, God, WHY!) Call of Duty 2 or Ikea.
The bell that hung just above the entrance gave a little ring, disturbing him from his American latte. It tasted like England's cooking, but he couldn't care less. Damn Irish-American pub was closed today - today of all days. And he could use a good bier.
Earlier in the afternoon he had gotten bored half way through the World Conference - like usual. So he decided to go talk with Ita-chan only to have 'POTATO BASTARD' screamed in his face. Then his bruder told him to 'stop making trouble'. At the end of the meeting, Hungary chased him with her frying pan for teasing the Austrian pansy and hit him thus resulting in the bruise on his forehead. Ok, that was normal. But, still.
When he found out his regular bar was closed, he decided to tag along with Antonio and Francis to this crappy place. So here he was, sucking down a cappuccino due to frustration. He was so lost in his anger, that he didn't even notice his friend was continuously calling his name.
"Prusia."
"Prusia..."
"Gilbert!"
The third time was the trick. Prussia jumped back to the present, no less upset than he had been before. "Was!" He spun his head to his left to see that France and Spain were in his face, starting at him. He backed up a little, discomforted by the lack of distance between them.
France gave him a mixed look of worry and annoyance - but mostly worry. "Mon ami, what eez wrong? You look distressed." the french-man said, accent thick as butter.
"Nothing. Nothing is vhong vith me. Just pissed at meinen dummkopf of a kleinen bruder."
The two other gave each other the eye, clearly unconvinced. The Spaniard shook the feeling of unease off and preceded to tell Gilbert the original reason he had cut his thoughts short. "Mis amigos, mira. Over there in the corner." Antonio gave a slight gesture with his head to the right hand corner of the store. Gilbert and Francis followed the direction the other gave and stopped at the slight of a man with unruly, blond hair.
They just kept staring as slightly evil grins cracked upon their lips. England, they thought. He was just idly sitting at a table sipping his drink while looking of into space. Truly it was pure luck that they stumbled upon the Brit. "Ouuu~ Bon. I'm going over to L'angleterre." France said while clapping his hands together. He was about to get up when the door's bell gave another little 'ding'. The three turned to see a young girl with a blond streak in her hair walk through the entrance. As she ambled in the direction of England, their suspicion only grew – especially France's.
Who is that fille and why is she walking up to mon Angleterre?
The girl took a seat across from England. When she realized he was up in the clouds, she waved one of her petite hands closed to face immediately catching his attention. They talked for a brief moment before England got up to throw out his now empty cup. Then he came back and outstretched a hand, pulling the child up from the booth. The two each took some of the shopping bags that the girl had placed on the floor not two minutes ago and walked out of the popular coffee shop.
Francis's began to boil like Italy's pasta, and the rest noticed. "Francia," Antonio started "Why don't we follow them?" Gilbert jumped up in enthusiasm for he had nothing else to do and declared; "Kesesese! JA! Let's go have some fun!"
France growled lightly then sighed but the anger was till there. "Oui. Allons-y." All three got up, tossed their plastic cups and ran out of the store. They found England not far down the street hand in hand with the child and proceeded to secretively follow them from a safe distance.
MWH
The cold chilled his bones in a numbing way. He open the grand door to his house and realized that inside was no warmer. As he walked through the main entryway, he saw that a set of shoes were already there. Treading cautiously, Russia gripped his pipe from within the beige coat. His sisters apparently heard him for Ukraine's face popped out from the opening of the kitchen. She had a forced smile on along with a apron.
"Привет, брат."
Russia lowered his guard when he saw that it was only her. "Сестра, what are you doing here?"
Her face twisted into a look of hurt – but only for a second. "брат, did England have your sunflowers?" He walked past her to see that a pot was cooking on the stove. The familiar scent gave away the mystery and he recognized that it was borsch. He turned around to face her.
"нет. But there vas a child. A девушка to be exact."
The other got a small shock from what her brother had just said. "A child? Maybe a new country?" Russia shook his head. "нет, impossible. There are no new colonies. Besides, the child looks far too old to be an unknown colony. The девушка is a young teenager."
Ukraine marveled at the possibility. But the look on her brother's face created a new train of thought within her mind. "брат, vhat happened at America's house?"
Russia momentarily stopped before turning back around and heading to the foyer without saying a word. This was a conversation that he did not want to have - and she knew it. America was a foul subject for the North American had quite the notoriety in the East European country's book. Yet - if she didn't talk to him, no one would. It wasn't going to be easy, Russia wasn't open to anyone - especially his sisters. "брат, please - tell me vhat happened at America's house." Ukraine pleaded.
Something had obviously happened and it was starting to become unnerving. Russia didn't respond but instead sat down on the leather - colored couch. His sister unwillingly gave up to go attend to the borsch that was now bubbling on the aged stove. He looked out the large window that was being comforted by velvet curtains on the right. Like always, it was snowing. All that he could think of was the girl. Why did she know his name and were had she come from? Because it was certain almost no one knew of their existence other than their bosses. He remembered the way she was so fluent in French and scowled. She is one of the perverted man's people. He continued to think until his sunflowers came to mind.
Russia rose from the seat and made his way from the foyer through the kitchen and to the front. Ukraine ran after him and asked where he was going. The Russian replied that he was going to vist the Baltics and would be back in time for dinner. She wished him safety and saw him stride out the door into the cold tundra.
LTR
Alfred stuffed his hands in the pockets of his worn-out light wash demins. A considerably small plastic bag hung off of his right hand while his left hand was free of weight. He had gone to GameStop and rented a movie or two that he thought the girl might like and three video games including Call of Duty 2. Nothing like kicking commie butt, he thought.
As he walked up the concrete front steps of the large house he called home, he fumbled with the plastic bag and pulled out a pair of small keys. They fit into the lock and gave a small 'click'. Alfred tossed off his kicks to the side and proceeded down the hall to the large den where they had first talked to the girl. So I'm in an anime, huh. Should probably ask Kiku about it, he'll know. He sprawled across the sofa in a lazy manner. Dropping the goods, Alfred made himself comfortable.
At that moment the doorbell rang - the national anthem no less. He hollered 'Let yourself in!' and heard the front door open along with some shuffling of shoes, bags, and feet. In seconds the girl came dancing into the room in a celebratory fashion, Arthur not far behind her. She smiled, dropped the bags near an armchair and took a seat, letting out a pleased sigh. "Hey Alfred." she sung in a cheerful voice.
"Hey, uhh...person." He didn't know her name, even thought she knew his. She knows my name?
"Oh, yah. I forgot to tell you my name. Julie, Julie Louise." Julie gave a bright grin. "We did alot of walking and shopping. It was fun. Good work out too."
Arthur pushed over America's legs and replaced them with his arse. He gave a slightly tired huff and began to unbutton his coat. Julie noticed his state and spoke up. "Thanks for taking me shopping. I greatly appreciate it."
England smiled. "It was truly a pleasure to talk to you miss."
"Come on. Please - call me Julie. I know we've only just met personally, but I don't like such formalities if you know my name."
Arthur sighed. "Ok, - Julie. Well, now that we have that done - time to figure out which room you'll be staying in. Come on, you may pick which ever pleases you."
Julie jumped up from the armchair, and giggled while clapping her hands and doing a small twirl. She ended the little dance witn an 'Ole'. England and America just stared at her in confusion. The girl was certainly a strange one. Arthur showed her the way to the stairs and America took to the kitchen to get some snacks. He came back into the foyer with a box of Pocky, sat back down and continued to relaxed empty-mindedly before bringing the 67" T.V. to life.
MWH
The old stairs creaked but not in an eerie way. More like a 'there's been alot of history here' kinda of way. The two headed up to the second floor where all the guestrooms resided. England stopped and turned to the child. "Ok, there are seven guestrooms. They're mostly for when countries come over, but the one you pick will be your room for the time being."
Julie nodded in understanding and made her way down the wide hallway. She peered into most of the rooms before stopping and wandering into the fifth room. Arthur followed her down the corridor and entered the room. It was very modern and most - if not all, of the furniture was from Ikea.
The bed was oak, centered in the middle of the room and not very high, covered with a fluffy comforter. The comforter itself had a large plaid design in reds, oranges and magentas. The floor was a cream colored birch along with the double-doored closet that was seated in the right side of the room. There was a small, white lacquer coffee table even lower than the bed in the lower-right hand corner. Under it was a blue, fuzzy rug. Along with the border-less, crayon-red lacquer bookcase that stood as tall as Russia, only other red thing in the room was the picture of doodles on the left wall that seemed to be guarding the bathroom. The curtains that cradled the large bay window above the bed were a see-thought blue satin color. And there was a little lamp screwed into the wall beside the bed with an old-fashioned chain hanging from it. Julie flipped on the paper lantern lamp that sat on top of the bookcase and the unusual orange lamp that sat on top of the coffee table. England marveled at the room. He gave a little cough and spoke.
"Ah, yes. This is one of Alfred's more modern guestrooms. I think this is one of the rooms Sweden stays in."
Arthur shivered as a picture of Sweden's face appeared in his conscience. It looked as thought that man was always angry with everyone. He wondered why Sealand and Finland could even bear staying with the Swede. "Is this the room prefer?"
Julie took a hold of the curtains and pushed them apart brutally, letting in the sunlight. Then she spun around, making her dark chocolate hair whip around with her and said with a wide grin; "I love the way the blue clashes with the red. It's so bold. Kudos to Sweden. He has good taste. Plus I think his military outfit is stunning."
She likes Sweden? "Ah - ok. Well then, let's head downstairs to go get the shopping bags and put way your new things."
England began to walk when the child glomped him. He froze due to shock as she started to squeal.
"Oh merçi, merçi, merçi. Merci Angelterre! Vous êtes les meilleurs!"
She gave him a huge bear hug and almost started to hurt him. "Ju-Ju-Julie!" Arthur choked out. "You're cru-crushing me."
Julie gasped and released him from her murderous hold. She gave a quick bow and said sorry. When England asked her why she had bowed, she simply replied; 'Cause I like Japanese culture.' He raised a brow and watched the peculiar girl skip out of the room. Arthur followed her downstairs - his mind filled of questions and worries.
Translations;
[Bruder] Brother
[Prusia] French for Prussia
[Was] What
[Mon ami] My friend
[Meinen dummkopf of a kleinen bruder.] My stupid-head of a younger brother.
[Mis amigos, mira.] My friends, look.
[L'angleterre] England
[Fille] Girl
[Mon Angleterre] My England
[Francia] Spanish for France
[Ja] yes
[Oui. Allons-y.] Yes. Let's go.
[Привет, брат.] Hello, brother.
[Сестра] Sister
[Borsch] A Russian soup made usually of red beats, but can be made with other vegetables.
[нет] No
[девушка] Girl
[Oh merçi, merçi, merçi. Merci Angelterre! Vous êtes les meilleurs!] Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you England! Your the best!
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