12:00 a.m.

Something was clinging onto Germany. He could be sure it hadn't been there when he'd gotten into bed. Germany was a light sleeper-had always been a light sleeper, developed from days when his outfit came with an ebony hat. He would get up during the small hours, saving his own food for a small undernourished girl-well, now was not the time to be sappy. What was in his bed? Germany put a hand out and pulled a sleeping Italy up beside him. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"Ve~ Ouch! Germany, it hurts..." Germany realized he was lifting Italy up by the hair. Thank God my grasp was nowhere near the curl... He dropped Italy back down on the bed and waited for an explanation. "I was lonely, ve~!" Germany groaned. Again?! Resigned, he lay back down and pulled the covers up, mumbling irritably as he felt Italy curl up against his back. This time is the last, I swear it!

1:00 a.m.

Spain smiled wearily. Almost done...One more box of artificial roses, then I will sleep. He rubbed his eyes, grinding his knuckles against his face to stay awake. He heard a ring. Could that be the doorbell? In his deteriorated state, Spain wasn't sure. He stood up groggily and just barely opened the door before the world faded and disappeared.

When Spain woke up, he was staring at the scowling face of an angry Southern Italian. Romano launched into a profanity-laced tirade at the woozy Spaniard. "You bastard, Spain!"

I spoiled that child, didn't I? Look at his foul mouth! But that is Romano. He reached up, eyes closed, and felt for the younger country's hair, patting it. "What happened, Roma? Were you lonely?"

"As if! Damn stupid Spain, it's past midnight! You've been making roses nonstop..." Spain grinned. Despite the swearing, Romano had a soft side. "So you were worried about me, eh? Don't worry, Boss is feeling great after that little nap!" He opened his eyes again and found that Roma had been replaced by a tomato. "Your face is so red, Romano!" Before Spain knew what was happening, he was looking over Roma's shoulder. "That's too tight an embrace, Roma! Boss is being squeezed to death!" Spain hugged Romano back. "It's okay, I like tomatoes." Roma's arms tightened. "Shut up!"

Spain laughed and embraced him again.

2:00 a.m.

Japan got up. His futon seemed like it was made of rocks tonight. I must really be getting old. He sighed and shuffled outside. He would take a walk out in the moonlight. Perhaps that would help digest the salmon roe from dinner. He might have poured a little too much soy sauce. Japan took a well-walked but relatively lonesome dirt path down the mountain, listening to the crickets. It was autumn in the country; the night breeze was potent. Japan's age took effect. After the trek down, he lowered himself onto a boulder, stiff-legged and short of breath. The moon spilled light across the sky, and a few stars showed themselves through the trees at the foot of the mountain. Japan spotted a figure advancing towards him. Slightly alarmed, he called out, "Who is there?"

"It's me, aru!" What is China doing here? "I came to see you, aru!" In the middle of the night?! "Sorry for disturbing. I figured you'd be up, because at our age it is hard to sleep, aru!" Japan studied him through shrouded eyes. Was there an ulterior motive? China produced a red box. Was that a box of dynamite? Or maybe chili peppers? Japan grabbed the box and opened it. Cakes? China grimaced. "So rude! They are moon cakes for the Moon Festival, aru!" Japan's eyes widened slightly. "Why..."

"It is mid-autumn! And the moon is full tonight, so I'll give them to you, aru!" Japan looked at the kanji on the little cakes. "Th-thank you very much..."

"You should think about celebrating the festival, too! It is great fun, aru!"

Japan looked at him solemnly. "I will consider it," he replied.

3:00 a.m.

"H-hey...hic...France...hic..." England had lost count of the bottles he'd downed. "Let's-hic-go to...hic...America's!" France smiled craftily. "No need," he replied, "Big Brother will call America and tell him to come get you."

"That...hic...that'll be-hic-great!" France nodded. "Yes, of course." For both of us. Very convenient. I will not have to take you home, and America would just love to make a move on you in this state. Or perhaps he will play hero and make sure not to touch you. We will judge by his reaction at the next meeting. France dialed the number and counted each ring as England opened another bottle.

Big Brother knows everyone's best interests, of course.

4:00 a.m.

Lithuania was pulling an all-nighter. He could barely keep his eyes open, with all the work he had to do. America was definitely easier to work with, and kinder, than Russia-don't tell Russia that, mind you-but, really, giving him three days to write out a major treaty...that was pushing it a bit far. Lithuania had managed to get in four hours of sleep for the past two nights, but he'd fallen behind because Poland was back from a trip-speaking of Poland, where had he gone, anyway? Lithuania didn't remember showing him out the door, so he must still be there. Then again, one seldom had a good memory at four o'clock in the morning.

"What time...is it, Liet...?" Poland yawned and sat up. Lithuania nearly jumped out of his skin. "Poland! Y-you were there the whole time?!" Poland rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I was, like, there the whole time. Geez." Lithuania smiled warily. "I, er, have, um, a lot of, uh, work to do...so..." Poland's features sank into a pout. "I'm gonna, like, go back to sleep. I'll be hungry in the morning, so make sure you have, like, breakfast for me." He spread himself back out onto the couch. Lithuania put down his pen, walked over, and gave Poland a peck on the cheek. "Sleep well."

5:00 a.m.

Germany shot up in bed. It was exactly five o'clock. He untangled himself from Italy, marched over to the mirror, washed, shaved, and gelled his hair back, properly. He unfolded his uniform, dusted it in case of dirt, and pulled it on, properly. Germany marched out and checked his surroundings, properly. "Japan! Italy! Training!"

Japan could still taste the moon cake at the back of his mouth. It had been some sort of red bean. Hopefully, China had not added any liquor or such...Japan only drank sake. All other alcoholic drinks were too dark for his taste. Too dark for his old, uppity stomach as well.

He washed and dressed in his military uniform, calmly, quietly, polishing his sword. Japan heard Germany call just as he buttoned his collar. He stepped quietly outside.

Italy woke up, still slightly sleepy. Pastaaaaaaaaa...ve~ where is Germany? He dragged one leg out of the bed, then decided he wouldn't wake up. Italy turned back onto his side and closed his eyes.

"Japan taught me how to throw you fifty yards across the fields from this bed using one hand."

The three of them started training.

6:00 a.m.

Breakfast at Russia's house was in session. Russia smiled at everyone. How nice, da~ He didn't notice the other countries' trembling. Latvia almost spilled the soup on his spoon. Estonia nearly dropped his glasses into his bowl while trying to clean them. Ukraine tried to situate herself in the most comfortable posture possible without her chest getting in the way, with little success. Russia thought again about how nice breakfast was, with everyone else. Then, he noticed Belarus clinging to his arm. "We'll be together forever, won't we, brother? Marry me, marry me, marry me, marry me..."

"Ehhhhhh!?" Russia's morning was now spoiled.

7:00 a.m.

Austria took a long sip of tea. Breakfast was nice and quiet. Hungary, who was visiting, spread jam across her bread roll and bit into it, chewing thoroughly. Hungary always understood Austria, from marriage up until now. Of course, present-day Hungary required a little bit more space. She'd been living in her own house for almost a century. Hungary still came for breakfast on sunny days, though. A strange feeling in his chest, Austria leaned a bit towards Hungary. Oblivious, the other country swallowed the chewed-up bread roll and reached for her cup of tea to wash it down, quietly, calmly. In a move he could not have explained later on, Austria knocked the teacup from her hands. He vaguely recalled the teacup as their lips met gently, and how the liquid would sink in later, staining the carpet a permanent brown. It didn't matter. This was perfect, even if the whole carpet turned the color of dirt.

8:00 a.m.

"Huh. He's usually up by now." America sat on the couch next to England. "Well, he's a horrible drunk. He'll probably be sleeping in until noon." England's thick eyebrows creased, as if he'd heard. The jacket covering him shifted a bit as he turned in his sleep. America picked up the magazine sitting on the coffee table. "The old pervert," he muttered, noticing the contents. The culprit turned again, curling around America. Seemingly content, England began to talk in his sleep. "...look at...America...stars..."

America turned away. "D-damned o-old m-man, E-England..." He buried his face in his hands. I'm still a child to you, isn't that right? After all of three centuries. The other country smiled, deep in the land of dreams and memories.

A tear rolled down America's cheek.

9:00 a.m.

More maple syrup...yummy... Canada took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes in his inauspicious way. I love pancakes in the morning...

….well, anytime, really... He pulled Kumajirou onto his lap. The bear looked up sleepily. "Who?"

"I'm Canada..." The bear dug into his pancakes. Canada sighed, dejected. The World Meeting was in an hour...he should hurry and finish his meal.

10:00 a.m.

"The World Meeting is in session!"

America bit continuously into one hamburger after another while telling the others of his plan to stop terrorism. "We'll develop a huge robotic hero to flick away terrorist planes from buildings with his fingers!" Japan nodded. "I agree with America."

England shook his head. "It's not going to work."

"Big Brother will teach you that everything is solved with love, no?"

"Keep your ridiculously demented ideas about love away from everyone else."

"Your heart is a stone, just like your pastries."

"You bearded bastard! I'll rip all your hair out!"

"At least I don't execute saints."

"Joan of Arc was your saint, not mine!"

China sighed and brought out a bowl of rice crackers, which were promptly swept to the floor. Spain decided he was too tired from making roses all night to try and convince Russia to stop the fighting. Besides, it was rather interesting...

"Shut. Up!" Germany nearly smashed the desk in two. "This has happened multiple times! Are we, as countries, really so inefficient? Be serious! From now on, we will take turns! Eight minutes per person. Begin!"

"Pasta-"

"Next!"

11:00 a.m.

Sealand wandered through the empty halls of the conference room. "Was I late? Per-perhaps they weren't supposed to meet today?" His eyebrows, inherited from England, knitted together in worry. "Wh-where are theyy?" Behind the slammed-shut-and-double-bolted door of the meeting room, France whispered, "Big Brother feels rather bad..." England shot him a glare. "Do you not know how annoying that little twat is?!" he hissed. Just then, Sealand tried the door they were standing at. Germany immediately tried to cover the blabbing mouths of at least twelve countries. Italy immediately started crying. Sealand heard the noise and began pounding on the door. "Are you in there? Mr. America? Japan? Big Brother France?" The rest of the countries tried to block the door, as Sealand started to pound harder, while America sat in his chair and gobbled down hamburgers. "Oh, should I help? I doubt Sealand will be able to open the door, even without our bulk added to it, but, since I'm a hero, I'll save all of you!"

The door fell down, countries doggy-piling on top of it. "There you are! Oh, and jerk England, when will you acknowledge that I'm a country?"

Everyone groaned.

12:00 p.m.

Switzerland walked down the street at a brisk pace. He grimaced. It was noon, and he was trying to find a new hair ribbon for Liechtenstein during his World Meeting Lunch Break. America, however, had nothing but strange circular bands. Switzerland disapproved of these stretching pieces of plastic and cloth, tending to be more old-fashioned in his tastes. The ribbons America owned were also plastic, and weirdly colored like his cakes. He looked through the shop windows. There was a nice, decent dress he could take back to Liechtenstein! It was made of a dyed cotton material, of a soft red color. Switzerland thought it would look very nice with a rich brown ribbon, perhaps.

He walked into the store and pointed his gun at the clerk. "Here is one hundred dollars, so give me the dress."

With the bag swinging from his wrist, Switzerland continued down the street to search for an acceptable hair ribbon.

1:00 p.m.

"Sealand is an id-i-ot!" Wy told Hutt River, ignoring the disgusting, lecherous Seborga. The tiny Sealand had gathered his courage and actually gone to the World Meeting, wanting to be recognized as a country. Of course, that would never happen to someone as annoying as him. Wy expected a full-blown tantrum when he got back to the little group of micro-nations. Of course, if one was never recognized as a country, despite announcing that he was one, it was a subject to get a little mad on. I wouldn't know. I'm known as a country by those around me. Deeply in thought as to whether Sealand was actually a country because no one would acknowledge him, Wy tripped on a rock just as Seborga trotted up behind her. "Ah! The original bloomer underwear, how interesting!"

Wy kicked him, hard.

"Ouch!"

Today was not a good day.

2:00 p.m.

Canada sat quietly in his seat while the other nations argued. Despite Germany's efforts to bring order to the meetings, they were chaotic and often decided nothing but the fact that England's cooking was bad and America was a glutton. Besides, the countries couldn't see him anyway. He had no opinion whatsoever! Canada could feel the steam coming out of his ears.

Of course, no one heard him rage. "I'm CANADA!"

"Who?" asked the bear.

3:00 p.m.

"I'm huuuuungryyyyy!" America pounced on England. "Anything will do, even your scones!" England scowled. "What do you mean, even my scones? If you don't like them, don't eat them, you git."

America waited.

"They-they're in the kitchen, you b-b-bastard."

America bit into the blackened, rock-hard thing and chewed. "Ugh...what is this?!" He forced himself to swallow. "Did you at least remember to buy jam?" England seethed. Wh-why does he-urgh... "Don't complain if you're going to eat them! Ah...there was a time when you would say 'Thanks, England!' and tell me it was delicious..." England burst suddenly into tears. "D-don't...sob...come back into...sob...the sitting room...sob..." America's head whipped around, preoccupied by matters of more importance than the jam dripping from the scone onto the floor. "England? England!" The other country desperately hid his face in the cushions.

"What-what are you crying for? I just spoke the truth..." England burrowed deeper into the cushions. "I'm not-sniff-crying...sob..."

"You're definitely crying, England."

"Bloody...sob...git..."

America pulled him out of the cushions and kissed him.

"Wh-what are you...!?"

"I love you, England. And not as a brother."

4:00 p.m.

France was seated at his kitchen table with a bottle of wine and a slice of brie. A piece of armor lay on the wooden surface. "Jeanne..."

His heart broke all over again. "Dammit, England! You shameless bastard!" Though France said such things while he was in these reveries, he always knew that it was actually his fault. He should not have let her take up the sword...should not have let her lead his army in his place...they might have been happy together. But...but...why? Why? He stroked the rusting piece of metal, imagining it in full splendor on her slender body. "Jeanne...damn..." His phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. Some girl I met yesterday. Right now, France didn't care. He blocked the call to stop the ringing. Jeanne came back as Liz, though...at least she'll have a happy life now, right? He tried not to think about the frayed, thinning memories, of Jeanne laughing in a field of clovers, of Jeanne praying in front of the altar, raising the sword above her head, burning at stake...Arghhh! Tears pooled in France's eyes. Her touch had been soft, their embraces heaven...please, no more... France wanted memories without pain. The memories of Jeanne, however, lead inexplicably to the fiery burning, the cruelty, the pain...

The salty drops rolled down France's face as he kissed the piece of armor.

5:00 p.m.

Roman Empire sobbed as he watched the Axis training from heaven. "That man, making my poor little Italy run laps..." Behind him, sitting in a chair made of clouds, Germania watched his own grandson. "Germany is fine. Italy is too weak." Rome was indignant. "My Italy is perfect!" The two began to argue.

"Let us not fight," said Ancient Greece, as she tried to interfere, "since we are already in heaven, it should be peaceful."

"Yes," agreed Ancient Egypt in her mysterious way. "Let us not fight."

Rome and Germania continued to bicker.

"I give up." Ancient Greece returned to playing on her lyre. Ancient Egypt hit the two arguing men over the head with a stick.

All was peaceful and quiet in the kingdom of heaven.

6:00 p.m.

"Ve~ Pastaaaa!" Italy dug in. The noodles rapidly disappeared into his mouth. Germany sighed and bit into his wurst. He brought out a jar of sauerkraut. Japan had a little tray of sushi. He picked one up with his chopstick and bit into it. Italy stared at the rolls of rice, seaweed, and fish. "Ehhhh~ Japan, what is this?" Japan finished chewing. "It is sushi, Italy-san. A common food in my country." Italy looked vacant. "Ve~ Can you teach me how to make it, Japan? I want to make little seaweed rolls!" Japan looked at him. "It will be rather difficult..." Germany intervened. "Italy! Stop bothering Japan and eat your food!"

"Ve~ But Germany, I'm finished!"

"Well, Japan is probably hungry! Let him eat, at least!"

Germany continued eating his wurst, satisfied that no one was bothering anyone else. Until Italy came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Germany's neck. A camera materialized in Japan's hand.

Germany face-palmed. Where was this going?

7:00 p.m.

"Da-ze! Japan, I want some sushi!" Japan sighed as he pulled Korea off his back. "I do have some leftover sushi from dinner with Germany-san and Italy-san, if you want it..."

"Yes! Yes! Thanks Japan!" Korea was half-done eating already. Taiwan clung onto Japan's kimono. "I...I...want some sushi too..." Japan sighed again. Having been prepared for this, he pulled out a small plastic box. "Here is yours, Taiwan-chan." China came strolling in. "Oi, Japan, give me some, aru!" Japan pulled out another plastic box. "Thanks, aru!" China walked off to find Hong Kong. Japan turned to Thailand.

"Ana~ I do want some, as well!" Japan gave him a plastic box. Vietnam walked in. "You'd better give some to me."

Japan pulled out one more plastic box.

I've spent too much time with these people.

8:00 p.m.

Prussia was waiting for Germany at the bar. "Oi, West! Over here!" He handed Germany a beer. "So, how's it been with Italy lately?" Why does everyone ask me that? "Just fine. How was your day?"

"Oh, loosen up, West. I ain't a stranger!"

"I know, Bruder. Just tired."

"Well, drink up!" Prussia downed his mug. Germany took a long sip of his own.

"Back at you, Bruder. How is Austria?" Prussia pouted. "Caught that guy and Hungary all over each other. It was so gross. Even the awesome me couldn't handle it." Really, Germany thought Prussia was just upset that one or the other hadn't chosen him. It was possible that Prussia loved either Austria or Hungary, but today Germany didn't want to debate about it. He raised his mug. The two made a toast to the Fatherland and drank.

Germany spotted a drunken England in the corner of the bar, accompanied by an equally drunk France. Funny; France had been sober the night before. Not that Germany cared, of course. Judging by what usually happened, he guessed that the two would prance over to America's and torment him in the early hours of tomorrow morning. Germany would be in bed by then. In fact, he planned to leave after only three rounds, wanting to stay on time for training.

Of course, Prussia would likely convince him to stay for five instead.

9:00 p.m.

Lithuania was sleepy, having pulled an all-nighter and lasted through a World Meeting. He finished brushing his teeth, changed into his pajamas, and climbed in beside Poland. "Liet...I'm tired..." Lithuania smiled. "Yes. Let's go to sleep." He switched the light off and nestled into the blankets. Turning to the edge of the bed, Lithuania thought through the events. He was taken by surprise when Poland's arms wrapped, slowly and shyly, around Lithuania's waist. Lithuania smiled and turned around to face him. He stroked Poland's head. "No nightmares when I'm here, okay?" Poland's clutches tightened. Lithuania kissed him on the head. "Don't worry, I won't let any strange people attack." Poland pouted, trying to protest.

"I-I can fight them by myself!" Lithuania smiled again, holding him closer. Poland was always adorable.

"Yes, you most definitely can."

10:00 p.m.

Spain's last box of unfinished roses had disappeared. "Ay dios mio*! Where could it have gone?" He called up his boss, who had no answer. "Romano, have you seen my roses?"

"N-no, I haven't, you bastard." Roma appeared in the room, his face crimson. "Wh-why are you asking me, a**hole?" Well, then, Roma doesn't know, either. The oblivious Spaniard shrugged and kept searching. Romano hurried out.

Thirty minutes later, Spain found the box carefully hidden in the hall closet. "Roma, did you see anyone hide this?" Romano came out of the kitchen, looking fidgety and nervous. "Roma, were you the one who hid these?"

"It-it was a squirrel! The squirrel hid the roses in the closet-"

"Roma, why did you hide my roses?"

Romano looked at the floor. "I-I didn't want you to stay up so late...so, so I thought if I hid them, the-then you would g-go to sleep..." He turned red. "N-not that I cared, idiot!" Spain suddenly let out a chuckle. "Worrying about Boss again? It's ok, Roma, only one more box!"

"I-I wasn't worried, bastard Spain!"

11:00 p.m.

Japan could not sleep. Just like last night... He stared up at the ceiling and tried to count sheep, as England had taught him. England, too, was at a riper age, although not as old as Japan himself. And while Japan's problems had been internal due to different clans, England had been slowly cut down on the outside, reduced from being the British Empire to just the UK. In many ways, England's ache was stronger and sharper than Japan's. The other country's pain was apparent every time he saw America. Japan spent the better half of the hour thinking about how to bring out his camera at meetings without America noticing.

He turned and watched the shadows dancing on the walls. The moon, though not as full, was just as bright as yesterday's, and sunk through the windows into the room. Japan was beginning to drift off. That was good; he had not had a proper night's sleep for at least a month. There were too many things to think about. But tonight Japan's mind was at peace.

Tomorrow he would visit Greece-san, perhaps; he was a quiet nation with whom Japan got along quite well. Japan silently wished all the countries in the world a good night, and fell asleep.

^.^ O.O ^.^ O.O ^.^ O.O ^.^ O.O

*Ay dios mio: Oh, my God in Spanish...I think...I take French, so I searched it up on Google Translate...

So, that concludes it! Thanks for reading. I'm new to (this is my second story), so I'm not too good, but I hope you found it worthwhile of your time...because as grateful as I am that you read it, I actually have no way of refunding time :( The whole thing took awhile, but it was fun to write, so I hope it'll be half as fun to read, in the very least...I'm thankful for any favorites and/or reviews I can get. Thanks again!