Even though America was wearing three extra layers under his normal outfit, the conference room was still gelid to him. He curled up on his seat in an attempt to keep warm, but it was to no avail. Turning up the heat wouldn't help either, since every nation wasn't experiencing America's problem with homeostasis, and he knew that none of them would want to sweat for a few hours straight just for his sake. Shivering violently, America thought desperately, I wish I wasn't so cold all of the time. Why have I been so cold lately anyways? It makes no sense.

The meeting continued to drone on. Presentations were being shared, speeches were announced, and more attention had been brought towards concerns that had been unrecognized in the past. Not that America cared about what was going on in the world, at least not anymore. He was just too cold, and too exhausted to interpret the words that seemed to fumble from his equally enthused peers. Eventually, the scrawny nation began to doze off, but it wasn't for long. A certain German accent woke him up with a yell, "America! Pay attention to zhe meeting!"

Groggily, America lifted his head just enough to see Germany's face. All he did was nod, and muttered inaudibly, "Greece sleeps through the meetings all of the time. No one ever yells at him."

Waiting one more hour for their lunch break to finally arrive was agonizing for America. Especially since he had to make sure not to fall asleep a second time. However, his attempt to stay awake was proven to be futile, and he had dozed off once more. This time, for at least half of an hour before he felt someone lightly shake him awake. Disgruntled, America glared at whoever decided to wake him up, and was only more angered when he found out that person happened to be France. His voice was throaty as he snapped at the older nation, "Just leave me alone pervert! Don't you know when you're not wanted!?"

France ignored the rude comment, and felt America's forehead with his hand as if he was checking the younger nation for a fever. A few moments later, France cried out in shock, "Amerique, you're so cold!"

"So I am," America replied impatiently, clearly not interested in the possible danger his body could be in, "You can leave now."

"Non," France shook his head, "You seem ill, and I'm not going to leave until I'm sure you're okay."

America narrowed his eyes at France, "What makes you think I'm ill? I'm fine, and I don't want to hang around you any longer. Just leave me alone already!"

Instead of obeying America's request, France continued to stand their, and study the other nations appearance. The sick nation's skin was beyond translucent, and the dark circles that had formed beneath his eyes were almost black in color. After quite a while of observing America, France began to drag one of his hands across the scrawny nation's prominent cheekbones. It was as if he didn't want to believe the sight before him. Eventually, the older nation was able to find his voice, "You're so thin and pale. You need to eat something."

America violently shook his head, and turned away to stare at the floor with fright. Confusion prickled at France from this reaction as he inquired, "Why not? A decent meal will help you feel much better. How can eating be so unappealing to you?"

America yelled in response, his voice trembling, "I-I'm not hungry!"

France retrieved his lunch from his bag, and set it in front of America, then explained, "Maybe you are hungry. It's possible for someone to be hungry without even noticing. Also, I didn't touch this food yet, so don't worry about it being unsanitary."

When France finished speaking, America's inner critic shouted, Look, he's giving up his lunch for you! Congratulations! Now France is going to be hungry the rest of the meeting! You disgust me! Selfish waste of space! America pushed the food away, and sighed, "I appreciate your generosity, but it isn't necessary. Since I'm not hungry, and you probably are, I think you should just eat your lunch."

"The meeting won't last much longer. I'll just eat something when it's finished." France assured, and then added a command, "Now eat something. I'm not leaving until at least half of that meal is gone."

There's just no winning, is there? America thought as he continued to glare daggers at the food in front of him, Well, there's no way out of this. I guess I'll just have to eat until that idiot leaves. After all, I can just throw it all up when he's gone. Nervously, America slowly began to nibble at the food. Every meager bite he swallowed seemed weighed his stomach down quite a bit. By the time approximately one quarter of the meal was gone, America began to violently gag. France began to rub America's back out of sympathy, "You don't have to eat another bite if you feel sick."

The gagging only managed to remain consistent. After a few attempts to keep his food down for the sake of France's request, America finally decided to make a dash towards the nearest bathroom. France didn't stop him, but instead followed the frenzied nation. Fortunately America managed to kneel down in front of the toilet before the vomit finally began to pour from his mouth. France pulled back the younger nation's hair. Despite the fact that it was short, he didn't want to risk the chance of it becoming filthy, and crispy from the puke. Once America had finished emptying the contents from his stomach, he flushed the toilet, and made his way back to the conference room. However, he stopped in the middle of the hallway when France set a hand on his shoulder. America turned around to face the older nation, his voice was even more scratchy from the acidic vomit that had forced it's way through, "What do you want now?"

"I know something's not right," France began, "And the situation we both just face wasn't the first one that made me feel this way. Two months ago, you began to act very strange, and it's only become worse. When I ask you this question, you will answer honestly. Why did you lose so much weight these past two months?"

America nervously glanced into France's eyes, his thoughts were frantic, If I say my economy is terrible, he might use it against me. If I tell him the truth, I'll lose any respect he had for me. That is, if he did have any respect for me to begin with. This is not good. How in the world will I be able to get myself out of this safely. When the younger nation remained silent, France demanded, "Answer my question."

America began to back away from France as if he felt that his life was being threatened by the older nation. France continued to glare at America, his patience was running out, "Just answer my question!"

After a moment of silence, France finally concluded, "You've been starving yourself, haven't you?"

Another awkward silence followed after France's statement. Tears threatened to fall from America's eyes as the older nation began to yell, "Amerique! Why would you even think about doing such a thing!? Do you even realize how much you're hurting yourself!? You're not immune to starvation, and You're going to die if you keep this up!"

America gave France a kicked puppy expression, which immediately made the older nation feel guilty. Pulling America into a tight embrace, he lowered his voice, "Je m'excuse. I didn't mean to yell at you. I was just worried."

America whimpered as he tried with all of his strength to pull away from France. The struggle only resulted in France tightening his arms around the gaunt nation as he soothed, "Shh. It's okay."

Suddenly, an enraged British accent grabbed both America and France's attention, "Get your bloody hands off Alfred! I swear, I'm going to kill you if I find out you did anything to him!"

Refusing to let go of America, France tried to explain, "You misunderstand Angletere. I'm only trying to help Amerique, not harass him."

England furrowed his eyebrows, and didn't bother to hind the suspicion in his tone as he interrogated, "Why exactly are you trying to 'help' Alfred?"

France's expression became grim as he answered, "Amerique's been starving himself. Aside from the fact that he's been doing so for quite a while now, I have no idea if there's something else he's hiding. If you think I'm making this up, I'm not. Just look at him for a moment, and tell me he isn't just skin and bones."

After examining America's condition for a few moment, a pained expression became present on England's once bitter face. When he spoke, betrayal was present in his voice, "Alfred...you promised me and Canada that you would stop harming yourself."

Then the Brit paused for a moment, and sighed, "I should've known you weren't fully healed. Thinking back, your smiles did look rather forced." then he shook his head with grief, "Bloody hell. I'm not even sure if I can trust you on your own ever again!"

America bowed his head, and and replied with a pained whisper as tears trailed down his cheeks, "I'm so sorry…."

France began to stroke America's hair in an attempt to soothe him. England managed to keep his voice under control as he asked his former colony, "Have you been cutting yourself as well?"

America hesitated before finally nodding. England sighed as he looked France in the eye, and then did something he vowed to never do, "I'm terribly sorry for lashing out at you Francis. If I knew you were only trying to help the situation, I wouldn't have accused you of harassing America."

"It's fine," France assured, and then added, "I think we should head back to the conference room now. We can sort out this problem later."

England nodded, and the three nation began to make their way back to the conference room. They all made sure to act as if everything was fine so that no one else would become suspicious in the hopes that the wrong nation never end up finding out. However, around the corner stood a certain albino. One that managed to remain unnoticed by the three nation during their conflict. He heard every word.