A heavy smell of smoked fish over an open fire, drifted through England's dizzy mind, waking him up from his groggy sleep. His eyes stared up at a shady, green leaf that lied across his face. He reached up and pulled the leaf from his face. He squinted as the sun rays hit his eyes. He sat up looking around confused at his sandy white surroundings. His face was wet, he assumed, from someone pouring a bucket of water on him and he had other large leaves covering him like a blanket. It looked to be just before midday which means he slept all day and night. Damn... I forgot I was on a deserted island...

He looked to his surprise to his left to see a fire with 3 small fish, skewered and hanging over the fire. A wooden bowl, filled with water sat beside it as well as a banana leaf with small bits of fruit in it. "Huh?" He tried to croak out but his voice was dry and crackly. He grabbed the water and drank it down quickly. Once the water was gone, he was able to speak clearly again. "How did I get back to the beach? And where did all this food come from?" He grabbed the closest fish and chomped it down greedily. He picked up the second fish and it fell to the same fate. It tasted nice, a little bland and some of the skin was burnt bug that didn't matter when you are starving. He grabbed the other fish and chewed this one more slowly and thoughtful as he tried to rearrange his thoughts. "Right... That wanker, France dropped me off in the middle of the ocean... and then I arrived here..." He looked at the beached boat. "Then I went to look for food and ended up chasing something... It kept glinting like silver or something metal... I made it to a clearing before fainting..." He dropped to bare stick and began chewing on the fruit. It was mainly chopped up mango. "So how did I get from the clearing to here?" He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face in concentration. "Hmmm... A small figure... the last thing I remember is a small figure... yellow and blue eyes and brown hair... It could be a person..." He looked over his finished meal. It wasn't much compared to how hungry he was. "Yes. It is likely to be a human... a child judging by the short height. But why would a child be on a empty island like this?"

He pushed off the remaining leaves that were still covering him. He stood up, dusting the light, white sand. The grainy sand seemed to be mixed with something thinner and finer than regular sand. "I should find that child... a little child that size is probably scared being on this island alone. Then we will be able to leave and go back home." He nodded, knowing his simple plan. He set off in the direction he had head yesterday, determined to find the strange child again. Although it didn't take him long before he was lost in the woods again.

England stumbled through the forest grumbling. "Damn! All these trees look the same... Where did the fruit come from? There are only pine trees here!" He sounded annoyed and angry. "ARGH! Where was that fucking clearing again!" With his slight hunger and the anger about being stuck on an island because of France was beginning to make his old bad language habits resurfaced. "I'm bloody lost on some fucking island in the middle of fucking nowhere!" He was so busy ranting about his bad luck that he didn't notice when he left the edge of the forest, and walked out into the clearing.

He paused to take a breather. Ranting told up a lot of energy and even though he knew he shouldn't be wasting energy, he needed to vent. He looked around confused, realising that the sun was shining down on him completely and not through layers of trees. "What? I'm already here?" The clearing was beautiful, filled with long grass, and various wild flowers. Some of the grass was yellowing with a lack of watering or too much heat.

He turned when he heard small shuffling sounds from a tall bush. A small hand burst out pushing twigs and leaves out of the way so a small lightly tanned cute girl could squeeze out of the bush. She shook the leaves from her messy hair, not noticing the British man who was staring at her, in shock and curiosity. She tugged a twig, annoyed, trying to get it out of the long dark hair that fell to her waist in waves, too busy to notice England. England gapped at her.

She was clearly the child from yesterday, her vibrant, bright eye colours proved that. She looked about four and was only up to his knees and rather very cute but the age and strange eye colours was not the thing that shocked the Brit. Strapped to her back was a huge claymore, over twice her height. The huge shiny blade glinted in the sun, and hung at a diagonal angle so it didn't trail on the ground. It was incredible. Traditionally, he knew, the claymore was a two-handed sword that only the strongest of men could carry or swing with precision yet a tiny girl could carry it easily.

When he finally dragged his eyes away from the girl's deadly weapon, he noticed a white dress worn by all new country. He gasped without thinking drawing her attention. She looked up frozen in place and their eyes locked. England's emerald ones with her sapphire and honey coloured ones. Her hand shot up instinctively and grabbed the handle of the sword as if she was preparing to take it out. Why does a girl her size have such a huge sword? England was panicking inside but on the outside he tried to look calm.

She spoke first, cautiously with clear mistrust in her eyes. "Wer sind Sie?" Huh? German? When England didn't answer, she tried again. "Кто вы?" Now she's speaking Russian? She still didn't seem happy with his blank reaction. England could understand German and Russian okay but he was too stunned and confused to talk. "あなたは誰ですか?"Japanese now… ."Chi sei tu?" Italian. She looked annoyed that she had to keep trying different languages but she continued, determined. He had figured out she probably wanted to talk to him but how did she know all these different languages? He was too busy thinking to really answer her despite knowing what she was mostly saying anyway. "你是谁?, Qui êtes-vous?, ¿Quién es usted?, Who are you?" He looked up startled from his train of thought, reconising his own language. "What?" She looked slightly relieved to finally see a reaction. "Who are you?"

His gentleman mode was activated. "Why hello there. My name is England. I was a bit surprised to see such a tiny girl on a deserted island. How old are you?" He smiled trying to look gentle and not a threat in anyway what so ever. If she drew her sword against him, while he was weak and weaponless, it would not end well for him. She glared at him, not answering his question. He struggled to continue after her silence but forced himself to ask more questions. Perhaps she is shy? "What's your name? Are you lost?" He smiled wider, hoping to befriend her. She continued frowning at him but at least answered him. "No." "Huh?" "No." England was confused. 'No' wasn't an answer he expected. He expected her to cry or at say yes or anything else except No! "So you are not lost?..." "No." Her hand twitched on the sword, like she was expecting an attack. "But why are you here? On this island? You're a new country right? You must have a name!" She tilted her small head to the side in what would typically be confusion but her frown conflicted with the gesture. "I live here." "This is a country?" England looked shocked. He had seen no people on this island and a country needed people. She was either lying, lost or confused. She looked a little confused now actually. It was really cute and reminded England of how America used to look. "Yes... I suppose I could be called a country now..." England was curious now. "So what's your name then?" "I dunno. I don't have one." This is impossible! A new country with no people! And with no name! He stepped forward without realising and she tensed before drawing her sword with one arm. She pointed it at him dangerously and the mistrust was back in her eyes. "I want you to leave!"

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