*sighs* God, I am SO relieved that Chapters 4 and 5 weren't deleted! It almost made me lose my will to continue writing this...(Seriously...I was lying on the ground in utter failure and my brother was just like, "Writers..." xD lol)
Thanks for all of the marvelous reviews! Made me squeal like a happy fangirl! :D
*waves white flag* I surrender. Don't. Kill. Me.
Italy: *waves white flag too* Ve! We surrender, ve~!
This chapter is less focused on the funny, by the way...*scratches back of head*
Chapter 6: The Jealousy Factor
Wednesday, at the Carnival...
France had the phone to his ear, not believing what he was hearing. His mouth didn't know whether to be wet or dry. The Frenchman blinked, then laughed in monotone. "Um, Japan? That isn't funny...what's your real plan? S-seriously..." There was silence for a couple of seconds, before Japan sighed and broke it.
"I know you don't like the idea, France-san, but–"
"You mean you're seriously going to make me do it?" France shouted, and Japan had to pull the cell phone away from his ear in order for him to not lose his ability to hear. The Frenchman sounded like he was hyperventilating, and Canada was staring at him like he had just gone nuts.
"France, are you okay?" the Canadian asked. France shook his head.
"I'm not doing it, Japan!" France stubbornly resisted.
Japan sighed on the other end. "France, this will all work out for everyone, even you. We are using the jealousy factor here. I am sure that you are familiar with it?" France calmed down and caught his breath, placing his free hand on his hip.
"But of course I am familiar with the jealousy factor! This is France you're talking to, mon cher, the master of love!" France announced, momentarily forgetting about Japan's extremely absurd plan.
"Then you know how this will all work out in the end," the Japanese man responded, and France scowled. "You will get Canada-san, and America-san and England-san will get each other in the end. This is how the jealousy factor works." He paused. "Most of the time."
France sighed. "That's all I have to do?"
Japan nodded on the other end. "Yes. It shouldn't be difficult for someone like you. And you only have to do it long enough so that America can get a good glimpse of what is happening. And Canada, too. It won't be pretty for a while, but I know it will all work out in the end."
France cursed under his breath. "Fine! I hope you know that you have just killed me, Japan." France shivered, feeling the aura of Japan's creepy smile through the phone.
"I know," he answered. "See you later."
The Japanese man hung up the phone, and France, for once, was not looking forward to the next plan.
~GuessingGame~
On Thursday Morning, America, bright and chipper as ever, raced down the hallway towards the World Conference Room, late yet again. He had a hamburger in his hand and a goofy smile on his face when he burst into the Conference Room, once again met with various "hello"s, but more irritated expressions.
"Morning!" the American greeted, taking a seat, once again, by England. How did the seat next to Iggy always seem to be available? America shrugged the thought off and organized his documents in front of him, then turned to England and whispered, "Deja vu much, Iggy?"
England turned to stare at the American in pure annoyance. The blue-eyed nation grinned triumphantly. "What? You're surprised that I know what deja vu means?"
The Brit rolled his eyes and turned back to Germany, who was currently speaking. "No, surprised that you know two words of French." America pouted, then placed his elbows on the table and his chin in his palm and attempted to pay attention to Germany while trying not to fall asleep. England smiled fondly, then turned back to the German.
The meeting dragged on and on. America was grateful when Germany announced that it was time for lunch break. America leaped out of his seat and grabbed his lunch sack, heading towards the door when Japan blocked the exit.
The American blinked. "Uh, hi Japan," he greeted. "You need something?"
Japan smiled, looking over the American's shoulder to make sure France had stopped England from exiting the room as well. "Well, I would like to discuss a rather...um, important topic with you..."
~GuessingGame~
France placed a hand on England's shoulder, causing him to start. The Brit turned around and glared at the Frenchman, but immediately stopped when he saw the serious look on France's face. The blonde looked around uneasily, then whispered, "I'm sorry I have to do this to you, Angleterre, but it's for your own good." The Frenchman glanced over the Brit's shoulder to look at Japan, who was currently stalling America at the left doorway. His eyes then shifted over to Hungary, who was stalling Canada over at the right doorway. Both America and Canada's backs were turned. Perfect.
France gulped as he kept his eyes on them.
England raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Francis?" The Frenchman tapped his fingers on the desk, waiting for the signal. Then, Japan and Hungary winked at him at the same time, and France noted with a sudden sense of horror that it was all up to him now.
France leaned down and, cupping England's chin in his hand, pulled him into a seriously forced kiss, and, with an extra amount of effort, managed to make roses fly out of nowhere. The Frenchman struggled to keep his and England's lips locked, what with all of England's silent screams and hits of protest.
France opened his eyes half-way to see that America and Canada were already staring at the scene. God, it was hard to keep England still!
When the two twin countries had finally run out of the Conference Room, France pulled away from England, breathing heavily and turned to glare at Japan.
"I hope you're happy!" he snarled, and Japan sighed.
"I told you; it will all work out in the end," the black-haired man stated calmly. Hungary sighed.
"But you have to admit, Japan, that wasn't fun," she admitted. Japan looked at her, then nodded sullenly.
"Yeah."
"Can somebody please tell me why the bloody hell France just kissed me!" England shouted, feeling ignored. The Frenchman sighed and turned to him
"I am sorry for invading you, England, but–"
"Sorry, my arse!" the Brit shouted. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" England was very obviously pissed off, wiping his lips with the sleeve of his suit, face red from either embarrassment or anger. Most definitely the latter.
France sighed. "England, this was all part of Japan's plan to get you and America together." At these words, England's face flushed.
"I-I don't w-want to be with that...git...," the Englishman lamely retorted. France, Hungary, and Japan all sighed at the same time, muttering something along the lines of, "Tsundere..." under their breaths. Japan crossed the room and placed a comforting hand on England's shoulder.
"It's alright, England-san. Everything will turn out okay. After all," the Japanese man smiled warmly, despite the fact that he was secretly feeling guilty, "we are using the jealousy method."
~GuessingGame~
Canada raced down the hallway, holding Kumajirou close, using him to soak up the tears falling from his eyes. The tiny polar bear looked up irritatingly at its Master, but its eyes softened as it saw his state. The Canadian ran on until he could no longer, and collapsed onto the floor, leaning back against the wall for support. He dug his head into Kumajirou's back, and the little bear sighed.
"Canada...," he called, and said man blinked in surprise and turned the bear to face him.
"You...you remembered my name," the Canadian said between sniffles. The bear rolled its eyes and wiped a couple more tears off of Canada's face with his paw.
"Of course I did," the polar bear sighed, sitting down in the Canadian's lap once he was sure that all of the tears were gone. "I love you. You're my master, and have been for quite some time." Canada blinked and wiped his nose with his sleeve.
"Kumajirou...," he began, "I just...I don't know what to do anymore."
"This about France?" the bear asked, and the Canadian, flushed, nodded. The little white bear sighed.
"Get over him," Kumajirou said softly, placing his paw over his master's hand.
"I-I can't," Canada sobbed, his voice cracking. "I-I love him, Kumajirou! I...nng..." He began wiping his tears away with his sleeves once again, and the little bear sighed for the umpteenth time that day. But it wasn't out of annoyance. It was out of pity.
"That bastard," Kumajirou muttered under his breath. Canada blinked at his bear's choice of words. When had he learned that? The bear turned back to Canada and wiped away the remainder of his tears once again.
"Now, you...," the polar bear began, "are the best, bravest, and frankly, most courageous country I have ever met. And if France can't see that, I'll make him see it."
Canada stared at Kumajirou in surprise. He had no idea that his bear, the one that supposedly always forgot his name, held this much love and respect fo him. Kumajirou smiled and winked.
"Don't you worry your little butt. I'm going to make him see."
Canada blinked, then broke out into a huge beam, hugging his bear tightly. "I love you, Kumajirou! Thank you so much!" The bear felt a vein pop out of his neck.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever! Just don't suffocate me!" he yelled, but was smiling nevertheless. Canada had always taken good care of him; now it was his turn.
That damn French bastard... Kumajirou's eyes twinkled with an evil glow as Canada hugged him. ...is going to pay very dearly for breaking this bear's master's heart.
~GuessingGame~
I can't breathe.
America heard his footsteps clanging on the cool, hard marble of the building's hallway. He didn't know where he was going; he didn't care. The American's bomber jacket suddenly felt intensely heavy, and, leaning against the wall, he slumped against it, breathing heavily.
Why?
America sat there, panting and out of breath, for...how long had it been? Was he missing the meeting? Fuck it. Every second seemed like a minute, every minute seemed like an hour...every hour seemed like a day. The American brought his hands up to his face, and widened his eyes in realization.
I'm crying, he thought, removing Texas from his face and feeling the wet skin underneath. His blue eyes shook, and America leaned back against the wall. What's wrong with me...? Why am I getting so worked up over the fact that France and England are...
The American bit his bottom lip to keep a whimper from escaping his lips. The tears continued to cascade down his face, his shoulders shook, and his heart...his heart...
It feels like...like it's being ripped into tiny pieces, America thought, clenching the area where his heart supposedly was, his vision blurred by the tears. My heart feels like it's shattered. But...Iggy...I swore that, the entire time I was trying to find out who he was in love with...
I swore that I would be happy, no matter who his special someone turned out to be.
Because...I'm supposed to be the hero, right?
America sat up suddenly, wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeve as flashes of memory burst right in front of him. Watching that movie. Eating Dinner together. The tiny tracer. The Ferris Wheel. The Haunted House. Everything...
The American gasped loudly as a thought struck him on the head. I didn't do it just...out of curiosity, he realized. I really was...irritated. But...why?
America closed his eyes and began thinking of Iggy. His smiling face, his blush, his touch...The American slowly opened his eyes as he came to a realization.
England...
While watching that movie, America remembered watching the Brit instead, rather than focusing on it. Check one.
The dancing lessons England gave him shortly afterwards; they made America feel so happy. Check two.
The tracer, telling him England's crush was male. His heart had unknowingly leaped. Check three.
The kiss in the Ferris Wheel; the American realized that he had butterflies in his stomach. Check four.
Being scared with the Brit in the Haunted House, then laughing about it together afterwards...Nothing ever felt so right. Check five.
Finding out who England's true love was...finding out that it wasn't him...
Check six.
The American blushed as he finished the check-list in his head, wiping away a few more stray tears. He repeated the thought in his head, over and over again, until the words sunk in, penetrating his flesh, his soul, his heart.
I'm in love...with Arthur Kirkland. England. The personified UK.
America winced at the words that, involuntarily, came next.
And I'm too late.
~GuessingGame~
*gets various objects thrown at her* Ow! Stop it! I–ow! This story hasn't even ended yet and you're bombarding me with–WTF, IS THAT A NUKE? *dodges*
...I liked the part with Kumajirou in it. And, yes, America has realized his feelings for dear Iggy-san...but not in the way you wanted it, eh~? Don't worry...this ain't the end.
And yes. I. Suck. At. Describing. Kisses. Cuz I'm 13. I've never been kissed, don't plan to. *sighs*
*dodges objects* THIS ISN'T THE END, SO STAY TUNED AND–OW!–DON'T BE MAD~! PLEASE? *hides in crate of tomatoes with England and Italy*
R-review? Please? *pulls out America and makes him do the kicked puppy look*
