AN: Oh gerd. I just found this. I believe it was my very first fan fiction, and it sucks. But because I'm a moron, I'm going to post it, unedited.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, Soul Eater, or any of it's characters.

England sighed, quickening his pace. America followed behind, panting, jogging. The Brit turned around, shaking his head. America was wearing his usual work out clothes, an orange tank top and some stupid looking blue shorts, and a towel around his shoulders. "Stop following me." England complained.

"Bro, I'm not stalking you. Jeez. You're just going the same way as me." The American said proudly. England rolled his eyes as he turned back around, continuing on his way through his beautiful garden. He attempted to admire the bushes, and the flowers, but America seemed to keep him from doing so. He was running all over the place, making so much noise. And all England had wanted was to take a nice, quiet walk… England quickly grew annoyed. "Would you stop making so much bloody noise?" he said loudly, exasperated. America just laughed. While doing so, he closed his eyes, and trampled over some of England's prized flowers. America looked down. "Huh?" he asked, clueless to what he just did. And that's what did him in. England marched right over to him and picked him up by the shirt.

"America, I told you to leave." He asked, his face red with anger. "And what did you do? You chose not to listen, like always! I swear to God-" He rambled on about how America needed to learn to pay attention and respect his elders (America laughed at this, and called him an old geezer), the whole time, the other was trying to bud in, telling him to calm down.

"Seriously, bro! Calm! They're just flowers!" America stifled a chuckle, not even trying to free himself. "I can fix them. I /am/ the hero, after all." England just thrashed the younger blond around, still trying to make his point. This is when America's glasses, Texas, fell. There was a small crack as they hit the stone path. They both stopped what they were doing and looked down.

"Dude, you broke Texas!" America cried angrily. He dropped to his knees and carefully picked them up. He turned them over to find that one lens was missing, and the other was cracked. "Crap. This is /so/ going to mess up my economy." He said calmly, though inside he was pissed right off. He slowly tilted his head up to face England, who hadn't moved. America gave England a smile. "It's okay, bro. Should be okay." England was obviously confused. That was unlike America… "You aren't ma-?" he had started to question, but he was interrupted by America's fist, smashing against his shin.

England fell, swearing incoherently. He didn't bother questioning why that was necessary, since he knew. He rolled on his back, holding his shin. Holy crap. America's training had paid off. He was /strong/. America laughed, and got to his feet. "You fell for it! Ha ha ha! You -"

"FOOL!"

There was an almost uncomfortable silence. The only thing that could be heard was America's obnoxiously loud breathing and a bird singing somewhere off in the distance. Nobody dared say a word. England oh-so-slowly turned his head towards the voice. He wasn't surprised to see his old friend.

He was white as snow. His hat, tall and light blue. Eyes, large and spacey. His friend hopped off the large rock he was standing on, showing how short he was, and twirling his cane. England's eye twitched. Him again?

The silence was obviously broken by America. "Oh my god, it's an alien, for reals y'all! Tony will totes by psyched!" The pale mousy looking "man" (I use the term loosely, as he wasn't really a man at all, simply humanoid) twitched his long, pointed snout as he spoke. "FOOL!" he loudly exclaimed, repeating himself. England scrambled to get up.

"Arthur." The white creature said in his usual tone, walking forward, still twirling that stupid cane.

"Er. Excalibur." England grimaced. After so many years… He thought Excalibur would have stopped waiting, and found someone else. America looked back and forth at the two, confused like always. There was another silence.

"I told you I'd wait." Excalibur said, his nose-snout twitching again. 'How does he even speak?' America wondered in awe. 'Seriously. Does it even have a mouth?'

"So you did." England nodded. "How did you find me?"

"FOOL! I ask the questions." His old friend pointed the cane right at his face.

"Ah, yes. Well. What do you want to k-" England pushed the cane away to have it snapped right back.

"FOOL!"

"God, I have to stop doing that..." England hung his head. How did he ever put up with this?

America still didn't know what was happening, so he crouched down so he was at eye level with this thing. Though it was talking to England, its' eyes weren't on him. They were just looking out, sort of like a fish. He waved a hand in front of one of them. How is that this thing could see? Or breathe? It didn't have a mouth… How was this thing alive?

Meanwhile, England stared at him, waiting for him to speak. Excalibur did this sort of thing. Tell you he had something to say, then stare blankly for the longest time, and yell at you if you ever said anything. So he stood, waiting. He shifted his weight from time to time.

Suddenly, he, Excalibur, began singing. "EXCALIBUR~! EXCALIBUR! FROM THE UNITED K, I'MMA LOOKING FOR HEAVEN~ I'M GOING TO CALIFOOOORNIA~!" America glanced at England uneasily. He didn't want this thing going to any of his states. Ever. Excalibur sang this song for quite a while. It's surprising his voice didn't give out, trying to hit all the notes. If England were animated (which we all know he was, and is, but to him, he wasn't) a large sweat drop would have fell from the back of this head. He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought about leaving.

America crossed his legs and stared at the singing creature. It had begun "dancing" (more like jumping around, swing that cane around) and America was completely fascinated. It was just so cool. How come England hadn't introduced them before now?

Because of how annoying he was, America soon figured out. Excalibur had stopped singing, and was then ranting about something called 'provisions'. He squinted and frowned, wondering if this thing ever slept. Probably not. If it didn't need air, sight, or food, it probably wouldn't need rest. Finally, he grew tired of him, and stood up.

"Well, this has been fun, but I have to go~" he said, dusting off his pants. England just nodded with his eyes closed. He wanted to ask a question, but knew that Excalibur would have just restarted. Soon, England would snap and beat the living day lights out of his old companion. And he did, more or less. It was a few, short minutes after America had left. The Brit punched the small "man's" gut a few times and began to storm away.

But after hundreds of years of waiting, Excalibur wasn't going to let him go like that. Before he was 10 yards away, he was caught. Excalibur dragged the man by one of his arms, despite his protests. "Unhand me now! If you don't right now, I swear, I will-" he, of course, was drowned out by more singing. Plus, the cane to the face may have got him to quiet down too.

Back at England's place, in his dirty basement, was a large, pink circle. It was as high as the ceiling, and made of some sort of frilly, flower-like cloth. In the centre, under some old spider webs, was a medium sized picture of Excalibur. And in large lettering, at the top of this pink monstrosity on red and white-stripped poles, were the words: I'LL ALWAYS BE WAITING FOR YOU.