Hey! So I updated my other story so if you wanna check it out, please do and review! Enjoy today's chapter!

This one-shot is set in the World Academy where everyone is a student XD

Forty-Seven: Karma

England was not in the habit of eavesdropping on other nation's conversations but when two nations he didn't recognise sitting next to him in the canteen mentioned America, he had no choice but to tune his ears in that direction.

"I mean, yeah, he's good-looking and all," the guy was saying to his friend, "but he has the mental capacity of a stump."

The temperature dial on England's blood instantly switched to boiling.

"But he's so nice," said the guy's friend. "How can you not like him?"

"I didn't say I don't like him, I just said he's dumb. He's the reasons blondes have a bad name. Well… him and that France guy he hangs out with."

Despite his anger, England couldn't disagree there- France was a prat. Nevertheless, England's fingers clenched, crumpling the newspaper in his hands until the opinionated editorials whimpered for mercy.

"Plus, you know he never studies, but he always whines when the teacher gives him a bad grade. I mean, what does he expect? Pity?"

The fact that England had used many of these same insults against the American did not even cross England's mind. All he could think was, how dare this nation talk bad about America—lovable, cheerful, sunshine-beautiful America? Just who did he think he was?

"Not to mention the fact he can't walk down one corridor without tripping himself up and taking at least three other people down with him."

"Be fair," the friend jumped in. "It's not his fault he's uncoordinated."

The boy snorted. "It is his fault he doesn't pay attention to where he's going. And that he's always running into class at the last minute because he overslept again, and inevitably trips over a desk or a chair or ploughs into some hapless victim. The guy's a danger to society. He should really be locked up."

The friend laughed, somewhat unwillingly, and red spots flickered in England's eyes. He practiced his meditative breathing, even as he strangled the newspaper. He reminded himself that karma worked in mysterious ways. Karma would ensure that this nation got what he deserved for talking behind America's back. He would have a horrible, meaningless life. He would die old and alone. He would one day overhear his friends talking about him in such a mean, condescending manner, and he would break down and cry like a baby on national television and everyone would laugh at him.

Hell, just the fact that this guy couldn't see America for what he really was—a really caring, kind, glowing star in an otherwise dark and dismal world—was punishment in itself.

"Maybe if he ever showed a hint of maturity I could let it slide, but he doesn't. And people ignore it because he's nice, but that just spoils him even more, so whenever something doesn't go his way he whines and wails and—"

England's hand whipped out, the back of his hand smacking the nation's head and knocking him off his chair. The boy yelped and landed, sprawled, on the linoleum floor. Rubbing his head and cursing, he turned to gape up at England.

"Sorry," the Brit said, smiling. He rubbed his shoulder. "Had a twitch."

Sometimes karma could use a little help.

Lol! Hope you liked! Thanks, LucyMoon1992 x