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AMERICA
Sweet zephyrs of spring caressed flushed cheeks as masses of students, piling out and away from the steady whir of the bus engines, made their way towards the faded bricked building that was Global High. Slowly but surely, the school's surroundings were filling with vitality and chatter with the presence of the Representatives.

America glanced quickly at his watch; like always, they had arrived thirty minutes before class started. His eyes strayed to the flow of people, split into friend groups and moving in surges to a particular direction: the Cafe De Monde, a small snack bar in the main hallway.

The revelation seemed to bring him back to the blabbering that was taking place at his side. Japan still hadn't stopped talking her head off, because the girl clearly could not keep her mouth shut about all the gossip rallied to her. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, but the things he could do with a little peace and quiet in the mornings...

"Are you even listening?" Japan snapped.

"Not even close," he joked, slipping off his jacket and scanning the room for any sign of their other friends as they made their way towards the jam-packed cafe.

And, perfectly on cue ⎯ "America!"

It happened way too often these days: South Korea materializing from unknown places and scaring the living daylights out of everyone. He rapidly made a beeline for his two friends on the other side, a ball of dyed white and black hair growing clearer and clearer by the moment. When he finally skidded to a halt in front of the two, America whipped around and tackled him in a hug. "Please save me from Japan."

"Hey!" Japan narrowed her eyes, and South laughed, stuffing his precious headphones (littered with scores with K-pop stickers) into his bag. "Good morning, Japan."

"Good morning to you too," Japan frowned with her hands crossed, and South looked at her, trying obviously to stifle a smile.

"Where's Ukraine and Canada?" America remembered, looking from side to side as they walked into the cafe. Japan shrugged ⎯ she had grabbed the menu and her eyes were hungrily scanning the contents. "No clue. They were on the bus. Probably doing some coupley things right now."

"Rude," Ukraine laughed from behind the group, and all color drained from South's face.

"Please stop doing that," he whispered, clutching his heart.

"We were looking for Poland," Canada said, pursing his lips. "I don't know where he is. Was he on the bus with any of you?"

"Never seen him," Japan said. "Hey, do you guys want anything?"

A chorus of "I'm okay" and "It's fine" erupted all over the small circle, with the exception of America, who discreetly signaled to the cafe's signature coffee. It was funny how he couldn't go a day without coffee, but she walked to the counter to place the order before the cafe got too crowded regardless.

"I just don't know where he is, he's normally here the earliest," Canada mulled.

"He'll be fine," Ukraine soothed. "Probably just late," she added, before her eyes widened, staring at a figure in the distance. "Speak of the devil." 

"Sorry," Poland murmured hoarsely, stumbling in like he had just came back from a near-death experience. "I was⎯"

Something clicked in South's expression. 

He suddenly gripped his friend's shoulders, beginning to shake them back and forth. "Explain! What's going on!"

Although initially confused, it took America not more than three seconds to comprehend what South was talking about. A flood of memories returned in ripples as he began recalling what Japan had been talking about before: the suspicious interactions with Germany.