A/N; What's jiggling? My, my... You thought i was dead? It hurts so. I got wonderful, recent reviews from certain freakyvampirecatgirl, couTokki, sweetyjg, and others. And yes, my finger are suicidal. I got a burn on my wedding band finger (I'm not married...yet. A few more years for that.) and it's still not healed. Damn, it hurts. Five of my nails are broken and their cold. 'Anymore complaints?' you say? Well yes. [Insert old British man voice.] I'm in 10th now, and the homework load is ridiculous. But I think I came out with a pretty good chapter this time. It's short though. Or not. You judge. Happy reading.
A/N2; Thanks for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites! And keep voting on future pairings! The poll is on my profile. *Scarfs down her peanut butter cookies.*
Also, if you have a MacBook or a MacBook Pro, on the link bar (that thing that should be saying 'http: .net /s /6660190 /14/ The_New_Girl' sans spaces) should have something that say – Reader or RSS sometimes. If you click on it, it brings you into 'Reader' mode. So no squinting anymore, grandma! Just incase you didn't know...
Disclaimer; Do I own Hetalia? Do. I. Own. Hetalia? You ass! You know I don't own Hetalia! Why would you ask such a thing!
Japan had gotten home at about 11:46 last night, and it was really starting to show; when he had rolled out of his futon it was 10:21.
I feel like America-kun now. He thought to himself while lazily brushing his teeth. The feel of over sleeping was a greasy, and heavy feeling. A quite, hot bath had taken care of that dreadful presence, and he got to work immediately, doing paperwork for the upcoming conference, and making a few calls.
Japan currently sat at his kotatsu, signing away documents, and trade agreements. China's demands on Hello Kitty products which he insisted on calling 'Shinatty-chan', Russia's unusual proposal for whaling in order to obtain materials for perfumes, Hungary, and his…um…business, and other matters. His 'To-Do' list was steadily shortened until there was one final thing at the end of the list, 'Call England'.
So, he got up, and headed for the kitchen where the phone hung conveniently on the wall near a spice cabinet. It seemed to take forever just to reach for the device. He dialed the number for England's cell and let it ring.
MWH
Somewhere in Brooklyn, a person with a blond mop for a head rolled over in his sheets, before being woken by the alarm clock on the table nearby. England rubbed the back of his head slowly after sitting up into a lazy slouch. He took a slow, cold shower, but it didn't help much. So, after he combed out his unruly hair, and shaved a bit, he went down to get a cup of Earl Grey.
Still in his pajamas, there he sat at the kitchen looking over the paper. It wasn't as good The Daily Telegraph, but still, it was okay. While skimming the sports section – scoffing under his breath about how 'rugby is better than that stupid American football', a loud clatter came from upstairs, and caught his attention. He threw the paper down on the table as nicely as he possibly could, and went to see what had made the noise. He had a pretty good of idea of what, or rather, who exactly made the sound, but just to humor himself, he went anyway.
What he found was an American, tangled in sheets, on the floor, still snoring a vague tune – which oddly sounded like the American anthem. But it must be just the fact that he's not even fully awake.
"Hmmfg… Hee-hee… Extra pickles…"
Arthur gave the other a puzzled look. Extra pickles? Alfred rolled about on his spot on the wood flooring. His hand came flying out, and smacked the area next to him, leaving a dent in the oak boards.
"…yhmfg. You want fries with this shake…."
The Brit had enough of this. He went back downstairs, and started the coffee maker. He could make coffee! Not two minutes later, the sound of size 15 feet pounding down the upstairs hallway just to make it to the stairs and make equally as much noise.
The strawberry blond came bounding into the kitchen, fully awake, no less; "Morning Iggy!"
'Iggy' scowled, mumbling something that vaguely sounded like 'It's not Iggy, git'. Puling out his Superman mug, Alfred poured himself a cup of coffee, and joined England at the kitchen table. He attacked the milk, then the sugar, and began sipping at the now completed coffee.
After a few minutes, he decided to break the painful silence.
"So…", he started, "What'cha gonna do today?"
The answer was short, and curt.
"Paperwork."
Alfred started into his mug, as if the meaning of life was hidden at the bottom with the result of over-sugaring the beverage.
"So, uh. Did, uh, Kiku call you yet?"
England glanced up, set the paper down, and sighed.
"No, Alfred. No he didn't. Please stop. I don't want to talk about this."
America looked down at his coffee in defeat. He couldn't really make the other feel better, or make himself feel any better either, so what could he do? He hated this feeling of helplessness. Damn it, he was the hero! He was supposed to help people in distress, and yet he couldn't do anything.
In that moment, God probably heard his angry thoughts, and decided to shine a bit of light on the situation; the phone rang. Arthur didn't say anything but the two men kept looking back at each other as if to ask, 'Well? Go answer it'. America slid his chair out, and followed the drone of the phone ringing all the way to the foyer.
"Hey! Arthur! It's your cell!"
Slowly, the Brit got up, making his way to his phone. Alfred handed him the mobile, and sat on a nearby armchair unceremoniously.
The amount of emotions that passed on England's face in the two and half minutes he was on the phone was truly astonishing, considering how many he goes thru in a normal day. At first it was slight hope, then surprise, next sadness, after that – slight anger, and finally determination. The words that flew out of the Europeans' mouth didn't even register in Americas' thoughts.
Arthur flipped the cell closed, and almost slammed it on the table. He turned to the other with a face of a man on a mission.
"Get dressed. We're going to Germany's house."
RDX
Japan hung the phone with a heavy heart. God, what had he just started? Now what he had to do was get to Germany's house before the situation got any uglier.
The Asian pulled a grey, pin-strip scarf from the coatrack, and flung it around his neck. Slipping on his almost-dead, brown loafers on, he stepped out into the finger-nipping cold once more.
〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙
He got to the Germans' shared house in less than twenty minutes. He tried to keep the anxiety down; he tried to push in away, but it would come back stronger each time. Something was going to happen; he just knew it. And by any means, he was going to try to stop it.
Kiku's finger went for the doorbell, more tense than usual.
MWH
Ludwig rested his head into the palm of his hand. Almost an hour of pure tranquility, and already a good pile of papers were completed. He pulled out a calculator to do some taxes on the current page he was working on. And after all this was done, he had to clean up after the things that lived in his house.
But… who was to say that the girl was messy, or ungrateful? She hadn't even been here for two full nights. She had asked politely for money, even suggesting physical labor as compensation.
He looked down at his work, realizing all this thinking was getting nothing done. The man decided that, yes, even he, needed a break. He had been doing work since 8:33 this morning, and now it was 11:12.
Germany got up, and made his way to the kitchen. He set the coffee maker, and turned the machine on. He leant back against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish.
The doorbell rang. The blond looked up in confusion. Who would be here at this time? No one had called him.
The doorbell rang again once more. The German sighed, and went to answer the door.
"Hallo. Vhat busin- Japan?"
Japan bowed a bit more hastily than usual; "こんにちは、ドイツ。I am veruy sorry to bozuher you. May I comu'in?"
Germany moved aside for his friend, closing the door after the other. "Ja, comhe in. Vhat did youh comhe so earhly fohr?"
The Asian sat down on the couch, not making eye contact, rather twiddling his fingers very slightly. Kiku didn't have a wide range of known expressions, so the anxiety was very evident on his face. And this worried Ludwig.
"Japan, vhats goihg on?"
Japan looked up from his 'oh-so-interesting' fingers; "Ah, werrul, Igirisu-san iz taking carru of the guirl untirl he finds a sperlu to senrd her back horum. He hirede me to find her afrter Furansu-san, and his fruiends kidnappued her. I hared callred to infroum him that we'u had fround her and took her hrome."
"Ja,", Germany gave a confused look to the Japanese man, "buht, vhat's vhrong?"
"He didn't tahke it werrul when I tolrd him he courldn't see her untril the meetring. He got evren angrier when I said we woruld have to dicuss with the other nrations what to do wirth her."
"Vhat?"
Kiku gave his friend a very serious look; "He's corming to get her."
"Vhat doh youh mean 'he's cohimng to-"
In that moment, a loud bang came from the entryway.
"Germany! Japan! Where's the girl?"
SMT
England stormed angrily down the sidewalks of Manhattan. It had taken them twenty minutes to get from Brooklyn to Greenwich Village. He was in no mood to be a gentleman now; his actions could vouch for that.
America ran to try to keep up with the others fast pace. It was weird; usually people ran to keep up with him.
"Dude! Slow down!"
Arthur hissed. "Hurry up you git, or Japan will be us to Germany's house." He slammed into a random person, cursing when they told him to 'watch where he's going'.
Alfred finally caught up to his former caretaker. "Dude, Iggy! Stop trying to trip my citizens!" England scoffed; "Belt up, wanker."
"Iggy! What's with the witch attitude? What happened? Who called you?"
But the other didn't answer, though he did stop trying to shove people. Germany's house came into view, causing the Englishman to become even more aggressive; they made it to the door in almost no time.
"Come on, America." England went straight for the doorknob before Alfred stopped him; "Hey, Arthur, don't you think we should ring the doorbell first?"
The other's eyes sharpen with an intent to kill; "No." He slammed the door open.
"Germany! Japan! Where's the girl?"
He barged into the house, and found the two he was looking for sitting in the foyer. He marched right up to Germany. "Where's the girl?"
Ludwig stood to his full height; "England, zhis is noht zhe tim-"
Arthur repeated his question, leaving no room for discussion by the tone of his voice. "Where's Julie?"
Germany sighed. "I'll tehll youh, if youh prohmise not to goh on an ahgry rampahge."
The Brit gave a small smile, and tucked his hands behind his back; "Fine, I agree." What they didn't know was that he had his fingers crossed.
America noticed this though. "Hey Iggy, why-"
The other shot a look toward him, telling him to shut it. The German continued; "Juhlie is shtaying here unhtil zhe meehting." Arthur's eye twitched ever so slightly. "She is ouht vith Italien und mein bruder. Zhey vent to a resturahnt on 14th St."
The 'gentleman' turned on his heels, and pulled Alfred with him. "Come on, we're going to get her back."
"Iggy! I'm not following any of this! What's wrong!"
"Oi!" Germany shouted, "She's noht shtaying vith youh!"
"Oh, yes, indeed she is!" The other one yelled back.
Ludwig ran after the Englishman, and the American, Japan not too far behind. He locked up his house, hastily throwing on a random jacket. England tried to shake them off, but it was no use. They neared 14th street, and didn't have to look hard, when they saw the famous 'ahoge' of Italy, Prussia's crayon white hair and Julie's single highlight. England shouted out in an attempt to catch her attention; "Julie!"
ATS
"Julie!"
The girl's head whipped around, looking for who called her name.
"Hey, did you guys hear something?" She raised a brow.
Feliciano shook his head; "No, perché? Did'a you hear something?"
She frowned. "Hmm, I guess I was just hearing things. It happens to everyone sooner or later."
"Julie!"
But there it was again? Maybe some other 'Julie' was being called? It happened a lot in school, and there were only three other Julies. It was very likely that it could happen in public.
"Julie! Dear, turn around!"
Okay, that was creepy. That sounded just liked a British accent, just like…. England! She turned a nice 87° to see the Brit running towards her with America, Germany, and Japan behind in tow.
"England! What are you doing here?" Julie giggled. She ran towards him, and nearly tackled him into a bear hug. He blushed lightly, but petted her hair anyways.
The other three caught up to the steadily growing group. Germany butted into their hug; "England, youh canh't keep her! Ve'e have to discussh zhe sihtuation vith zhe ozher nahtions!"
"No!," Arthur shouted, "She came to this dimension in my house, so she's under my jurisdiction!"
America coughed. "Technicality, I brought her here." No one listened.
Prussia scoffed; "Youh just vhant her 'cause you're finally fehd up vith jackhing off by youhrself, and youh khnow no prohstitute vhould vhant to be vith youh, eyehbrows, kesese!"
Julie starred at Gilbert, disgusted; "Okay, first, eww. I don't need to know about what ever the hell you guys do at night. Two; that's mean! I'm not a slut!"
England's anger was boiling out of control. "How – how dare you!" He let go of the girl and flung his hand toward Prussia's face. "You – you –!"
"No! Don't do it!"
Smack!
The sound of skin assaulting skin rang out. Prussia opened his eyes expecting to feel the sting on broken flesh. Instead he didn't feel anything. What came next sickened the six nations to their stomachs.
Crash! "Ah – ughh, ughf – uhh…"
〘ヴェ、ドイツ〙
The pain was unbearable. She had never broken a bone; she guessed this was what it felt like. "Ah – ughh, ughf – uhh…" She coughed up a light amount of liquid; it tasted like metal. What ever she was laying on was horribly cold, and hard. She heard some footsteps, but who was coming to her?
"–ulie. Julie. Oh… -od, dear!"
"Ve… Why…you….to her?"
"Cahll an….She's fadhi…."
The world slowly went black as she heard the sound of sirens in the background, but she didn't really care for some reason.
Translation; Only like three. Or two. Who's counting?
[こんにちは、ドイツ。] Good Afternoon, Germany.
[...perché?] ...why?
Holy shit! You must want to kill me now. I make you wait almost two months, for another cliffhanger! I'm evil. I should team up with Mini-Me. (For Austin Powers and Goldfinger fans.) Well, I gotta start my French Project. Seriously. It's due tomorrow, and it's 5:14 in New York.
Stay orange for me. And please review. [Insert old man voice.] Or the prophesy will not be completed, and the balance of the universe will be destroyed along with all of timmmmeee!