Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. All characters belong to their rightful owner, Hidekaz Himaruya.

"I will get rid of it. Every. Last. Bit."

The pain in his stomach was almost agonising as it was practically shouting at America to eat something. Using his hand to whack his stomach to stop the pain and the growling, "Stop it. I'm not hungry...stupid...fat...ugh..." He'd skipped breakfast again and it was now nearing 2:00, the conference meeting was at 2:15.

Alfred sighed. He hated feeling like this. The constant thoughts of disappointment and weakness as he couldn't even control his stomach from rumbling. But he couldn't give up...not now anyway. Not after all his hard work at controlling what he ate.

His diet had started when he was getting changed after having a shower, a really long shower. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, smiling slightly at how his hair was sticking on end, drops of water dripping from the thin strands. Then suddenly he was when he saw it. The fat. How it covered his body as if acting like a large piece of clothing. Disgusting clothing. How his thighs were ginormous and his stomach was bloated, giving himself ugly love-handles. His arms were huge and his face was podgy showing no signs of cheekbones at all. A feeling that Alfred had never thought would come to him was the feeling of self-hate. How he instantly hated himself, loathed himself for allowing his body to get so big. No wonder the others would snigger behind his back or call him names. How he finally realised why no one would ever compliment him.

Tears started to well up at the corner of his eyes, he bit his lip, hard. Glaring at his reflection making the image glare back, bright blue orbs shining into his soul. Alfred could feel them laughing now, all the nations. Sneering at him, smirking, laughing, joking about how much of fat, American pig he was.

Clenching his fists he decided he would at least go on a diet. To lose those few pounds...or maybe stones. "C'mon Alfred. You can lose weight! You're America! You can do this! We're gonna show the world what we can do!" He told the reflection in the mirror. Though he felt like crawling in a hole and not returning for a few hundred years.

But that was two weeks ago and Alfred had started to eat less and less. Limiting himself to only 2 small meals a day. He forced himself to eat fruit and vegetables for dinner and lunch, having no breakfast. It felt horrible, how he couldn't eat his favourite chocolate or drink what he wanted. Water was such a flavourless liquid...

He was walking down the long corridor when he felt a hand on his shoulder, "Alright, lad?" America looked down, his baby blue eyes meeting emerald green: England.

"Huh? O-oh, yeah. Yeah, good thanks. You?" The smaller nation frowned at this response, his hand falling back to his side as he used the other to brush his badly-tamed hair out of his eyes.

"I'm well, thank you for asking."

They continued walking in silence for a while until the Brit spoke again, "You sure you're okay? I mean, you're not acting...like your usual self?"

At this Alfred stopped and turned to face his 'father-figure.' He looked the smaller man up and down and felt a pang of jealousy. Arthur had always been short in height but his figure was lean and slender, having slightly curvy hips. Alfred had seen how England always hated the fact that a few nations, France in particular, would comment on how his figure was more feminine than manly, causing the British man to blush or hit the offender. But Alfred was jealous of that fact. Yes, he was taller and larger in height and in land size but America still envied the other which always made matters worse because he knew he shouldn't envy a friend let alone the man who raised him. Arthur was so thin and he was so fat.

Lifting the corners of his mouth into a convincing smile he replied, "'Course I am, Arty! Just tired, you know me!" He made a nervous laugh, slinging his arm around Arthur's thin shoulders, instantly regretting the movement.

"Okay, if you're sure," England took a deep breath and looked his former colony in the eye, "but if anything is wrong you can talk to me about it...you know that, right lad?"

Alfred opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a loud rumbling sound that bounced off the narrow corridor.

"What was that?"

America chuckled, "'Maystomach! This baby is hungry, man!"

Arthur frowned, "...Did you have breakfast?"

"Yup! Wouldn't miss brekky! Best meal of the day!" He lied, "I'll probably get something else after the meeting or something!" God, how he hated lying to people...especially to Arthur. It wasn't in his nature to lie even though at times he was very good at it.

"Well alright then." Arthur replied looking a little happier, "I'll talk to you later then."

They entered the conference room where Arthur was greeted with kiss on the lips from Francis who was then punched lightly on the shoulder. Alfred smiled sadly and went over to take his seat. When everybody was seated, the meeting began and Alfred felt himself drift in and out of consciousness.

He managed to come back to reality when the meeting ended, thanking the fact that he didn't have to make a speech today. He took his time getting up and folding his papers away so that he was the only one left in the room. Standing up he immediately felt dizzy and had to grab hold of the table to steady himself, "Woah, Alfred, breathe. You're fine." He said to himself, breathing deeply but the spinning wouldn't stop. He thought he was going to collapse when a large hand gripped his shoulder.

"привет Amerika." The thick Russian accent greeted in his ear, "How are you? You seem very...uh...spaced out? Usually you are first one out of room."

"Russia? Since when were you here?" He squinted, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. Noticing how the Russian seemed to have four eyes instead of two.

"I have been here since beginning, da? I watched you get up and that is when you nearly fell." He chuckled, seeing America so weak was quite amusing.

At this the Alfred's face grew hot. He shouldn't look so weak in front the stupid Russian. They were enemies after all. "I'm fine. Now, if you don't mind..." He tried to think of a good insult but it was too much energy. Instead he shook the man's hand off his shoulder and grasped his own head to control the spinning.

Ivan frowned, his eyes showing a hint of concern but he nodded anyway, "You look sick and-" Alfred's stomach rumbled for the third time that day, "What was that?" The violet eyes fell to the American's lower half.

"For God's Sake has anyone ever heard of a rumbling stomach?" He shouted loosing his patience, "I was gonna go get some food." He turned to move from his position when Russia caught his arm again, surprised at how thin it was. "What do you want now?"

"I come with you, da? I am hungry as well." He smiled that creepy smile of his, sending shivers up Alfred's spine.

"What?"

"You heard me, Amerikan. I get hungry as well."

"What? Ugh...fine. But we go where I want to go, alright?"

At this Russia grimaced, "I do not want fast food it's-"

"I know neither do I." America interrupted, glaring slightly. Ivan's eyes widened at the remark.

"Da...okay then."

They walked through the doors and down the corridor in silence. All that was heard was the tapping of footsteps on the floor and the occasional grumble of Alfred's stomach. At times the room would spin and Alfred had to keep squinting his eyes and grasping his head.

Crap, I still feel faint. I hope I don't collapse, that would be really embarrassing. Russia would never let me live it down.

His stomach was aching and sending pains throughout his body. He thought he was going to topple over any minute. All the while, Ivan would turn his head slightly to see the pained expression on the other's face and how he wasn't walking in straight lines. How he would hit his stomach and curse under his breath. How he wasn't running to the elevator and out the door to his favourite fast-food place...It was odd, even for America. Normally he would never deny a meal at McDonald's...

It was when they were nearing the elevator did Ivan stop in his tracks, Alfred bumping into him, "Ow. Why'd you st-"

The Russian grabbed the smaller nation's shoulders, "Hey-!" And pushed him to the wall, "Oi, what are you doing! Let go you b...bastard!"

"Shut up, Amerika." Alfred continued to struggle, growling under his breath but soon stopped as the lack of nutrition wouldn't able him to put up a proper fight. Panting from the lack of oxygen he could noticed the tiny hairs on Ivan's chin, feeling the other's breath on his face mingling with his own.

Russia looked straight into his eyes, warning him to say anything else before studying his face.

The usually bright blue orbs looked tired and dull which were rimmed with grey circles underneath them; it was a sign that Alfred hadn't been sleeping well. He remembered the nights of the Cold War and how he couldn't sleep, it wasn't a nice feeling. Ivan noticed the way Alfred's cheeks weren't that usual pink colour, instead slightly concave giving his cheekbones a more defined appearance. He could feel the American's shoulders and how they weren't as broad but thinner and felt more...breakable. He studied his face for a little longer while Alfred stood frozen in place, staring wide eyed at the violet orbs.

"Russia..." Alfred breathed, "Let go now."

"Huh?" Blinking quickly and realising what he had been doing, he released the American at once. "Amerika. You do not look well."

Quickly glancing at the clock behind the taller man Alfred groaned, it was 4.00, he hadn't eaten all day, only having a sandwich the night before, "I'm fine! Sheesh, since when were you so concerning? C'mon, I thought you were hungry?" Oh shit, the room's getting dizzy again...

Russia nodded his head in a non-believing fashion, "Okay Alfred. Don't lie to me. You and I both know that something is wr-" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the American's face pale. Using lightning fast reflexes that were unusual for the big boned nation, he caught Alfred before he fell to the floor, pulling him close to his chest. Heart pounding at the fact that he was holding a passed out America. Something felt wrong. There wasn't much to 'hold' of the other nation. He seemed smaller and a lot lighter.

Ivan's jaw tightened, he shouldn't be in this situation. They were enemies through and through, only having the occasional argument now and then but nothing like this. He should be laughing at how weak the other was. They had fought hundreds of wars between them, each waiting for a sign of weakness from the other but now, seeing America act so different and feeling so small, even though he hated to admit it, he didn't like it. He preferred the America who smiled and laughed even if those emotions weren't directed or caused by him.

What is the matter with you Amerika...?

привет - Hello

Please review! New chapter next week or so!