Idiots times 3

30 days OTP: Day 3

First Meeting

America's POV

I looked in the mirror and adjusted my tie, nervously checking my appearance before I would leave this restroom and go into the conflicted meeting room. It was another attempt made by the more sane individuals of our world to try to stop this mass bloodshed.

The year was 1941, and although this was not the first meeting I had been to featuring the Axis and my Allies, I still got nervous. I think everybody does. The tension in the meeting rooms are enough to make even the ice-cold Soviet Union sweat with the heat of hatred and tension.

I looked in the mirror once more and sighed, adjusting my pitch-black sunglasses. I wish Russian Empire was still alive. As long as he was alive, USSR would never reach adulthood, and the stupid commie would only ever be an idea.

Countryhuman aging is weird. If you are an idea, or a section or part of a bigger country, then you are a child. If you start to rebel against your owner, then you grow a little older, and when you achieve independence, you are a mature age, and stay at that age until your country crumbles. The only other way a country could become an adult would be if the 'parent' country 'died'.

I turned on my heel and straightened my back, preparing to show the bold front I use in front of my enemies, and allies, in order to seem indestructible. I need to look powerful.

I swung open the door and started walking briskly down the hallway.

I needed to look idealistic.

I rounded a corner sharply.

I needed to look-

Oh my goodness who are those little beans???

My mental preparation was cut short when I saw two children running through the hallways, laughing. My posture reverted to what my mother called 'the America slouch' as I relaxed.

I love kids, they are the only people that won't judge me for being childish, or imperfect. They aren't deceitful, they won't betray you. The only weird thing about countrykids is that as soon as they become independent, they will be the same 'age' as any other country. One day they are a little bean, the next they are a semi-mature adult.

I grinned and laughed merrily at the two, chasing each other and giggling innocently. One of them stopped suddenly in surprise, and the other, carrying on his momentum, toppled on top of him.

The sight of two dazed little beans rolling slightly on the ground was enough to make me crack up. I hadn't felt so happy in years, what with the wars and Great Depression, and my new found rising position of power among the ranks of my fellow countries. I sat down hard, laughing at the two adorable kids, tears coming out of my eyes.

One of the kids got up and waddled over to me, wiping my tears born of laughter and holding my head steady between his tiny hands. I calmed down a bit and looked at him.

Two chocolate-brown eyes stared at me worriedly. The child had three horizontal stripes, a black one on top, a red one in the middle, and a yellow one on the bottom. In the middle of the flag was a blurry spot, seeming to appear as a certain shape or two at every moment, and his glasses made his eyes look slightly larger.

The second kid hung behind the first, much more tentative about approaching me than the first. I immediately recognized his hat, a ushanka similar to what Soviet wears. There was two vertical stripes, a red one and a blue one, and a golden hammer and sickle in the red nearly covered by the fluffy hat.

My attention reverted back to the first countrykid, who began to speak. "Mistew, awe you okay? Vhy you cwy?"

I widened my eyes in recognition of the accent.