'ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴏʙᴀʟ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴀʟ' || ʜᴇᴛᴀʟɪᴀ

4

"So, who wants to read next?" Antonio asked, holding the book up as his elbow rested on the table. They'd been in the conference room for around an hour, and there was still a fair amount to get through. "Anyone, anyone at all?"

"Hai, I will." Japan offered. "It would be an honour."

Spain nodded and smiled, and passed the book to Kiku, who took it and carefully put it down. He looked to the next page and saw that it was another diary entry. It was an old one. The room was silently waiting, anxious about what Japan was skimming over. They watched his eyes flicker over the words and scan them. Was everything alright? Did he realise that he wasn't saying anything?

"Japan, is everything alright?" Italy asked. "If not, I can make some pasta! Pasta always helps~"

"Oh, sorry. I wanted to see how personal this was before sharing it. It is not mine, but I know that I would not want certain things shared without my consent." Kiku explained.

"Whose is it?" Canada asked.

"It is Spain's, this time. Am I OK to read it?"

"What year is it from?" Antonio cautiously asked.

In his head, he was screaming. 'Don't be from the sixteenth century, don't be from the seventeenth century, don't be about those damned days at sea! Please, God, do me this one favour!'

"It's from 1614-"

Antonio groaned and let his head smack against the solid wood table. Why did it have to be that one? Why, of all the things he'd written over the last countless centuries, had that one been chosen? Moreover, who'd read it and then made that decision?! There were some things he was nervous about having shared, and then there was that.

"Ow! Spain, why did you do that? I bet your head hurts now!" Feliciano said. "Ve, do you need some pasta too? It's not a problem if you do!~"

"I tell you what, Italy. How about you go and make some lunch for everyone?" England suggested, knowing that it would keep everyone happier. "If you head down two floors and to the right, the kitchen will be on your left."

"Okie dokie!" Feliciano beamed. He was excited to be allowed to cook, and was already thinking of several dishes he could cook that all contained the key ingredient: pasta! "I'll get to work right away!"

And then there were ten. Spain was still resting his head against the table, and England seemed to have become a bit more... On edge. France's gaze flickered between the two and he was starting to get an idea of what may be on that page. Though, he kind of hoped it wasn't actually what he was picturing, because otherwise someone needed to slap an '18+' rating on that book ASAP and lock it away as securely as possible before throwing it into the sea.

"Should I continue?" Japan questioned, feeling slightly uneasy by the other nation's reaction to the date he'd supplied.

"By all means." Antonio mumbled into the wood before he sat up again and looked dully at everyone. "I swear to God though, if anyone says anything, I will not hesitate to introduce my axe to your neck. Understood?"

A chorus of nods and 'yes's filled the room, and Antonio let his head drop back to its position on the table. He didn't want to hear what was to be read. He already knew what was there, word for word. Some things just never leave you. England leant back in his seat and gently bit the inside corner of his mouth. This was going to be interesting.

"Spain. May 26th, 1614. Long time, no-"

"Sorry for interrupting, but I just want to quickly apologise for any and all the vulgarities in this one. Caught me at a bad era." Antonio quickly muttered, before flopping back down again. He waved a hand and signalled for Japan to continue. Kiku decided to pass the book onto someone else, however, and this new nation began to read instead.