Hetalia of the Crack

I missed another birthday wtf is wrong with me

yes mah fwends i know i missed his birthday dont blame me there were tests and sh*t i should pass because IM ASIAN YEY nah i was just kidding... about the yey part

so here's a special chapter dedicated to a special nation

He was confused. He didn't know how to feel.

Sad? No, it was just his birthday.

Which they missed. How about confused? Okay but why? Oh right, they always remember his birthday.

Maybe confused is the right feeling since they always, and I mean always, remember to celebrate his birthday, especially Italy.

Germany combed his hand through his blond dishelved locks as he contemplated over what could be the possible reason they forgot to celebrate his birthday three days ago.

"Maybe I did something wrong? Well I was a little too hard on Italy for his training last week. I also took out my anger on Japan when those papers I had to sign weren't even his doing. I also haven't talked to Writer in a while too. What was her real name anyway? I never got to ask".

He pondered over the possible reasons as to why it happened. After a while, he concluded that he did do a lot of wrong things to the nations and the girl (bishes thats me).

He thought of how he was, possibly, a little too embarrassed about Prussia being a complete and utter fool, again, in public. He thought about how much he probably upset Romano just for existing.

He thought about how much he yelled at the Allies for making a ruckus in the meeting again. He thought about how much Writer had tried to talk to him yet he ignored her for, yes you guessed it, paperwork.

I was such a jerk.

Having thought about things, Germany decided to come out of his room to just apologize to all the wrong he has done and forget about his entire missed birthday as punishment for himself.

As he was walking through the hallway of the mansion he, the nations, and the girl shared, he noticed a familiar curl about to take a turn ahead of him to another direction. Germany sped up his pace to follow that strand of hair which led him to also take a turn in its direction.

"Romano?" He silently questioned himself (HA YOU BISHES THOUGHT IT WAS ITALY WELL LOOK WHO GOTCHU NOW).

The older Italian brother kept walking before making yet another turn to the left of the hallway all the while with the buff German following him.

~Romano's POV~

"The potato bastardo is following me" I whispered into the small microphone on my collar.

"Within a 10 meter distance" I added after glancing a sneaky look at the bastard.

Hey they don't call me The Italian Mafia for nothing.

(ok imma do the accent now)

"I wonder what he is-a thinking about". "Probably how-a fucking dumb he is".

So-a dumb, so-a very fucking dumb".

"He-a probably only thinks of-a potatoes....heh dumb-a ass".

Now where was I goi- OW OH FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING THAT IS HOLY I CURSE YOU YOU FUCKING OBJECT THAT DARE DEFY ME YOU- oh, a door.

Well shit I hit a door.

The door I was supposed to walk through. The door that is opening right now- wait what- OW. I hit something. Again.