A Waltz in the Dark (Norway + OC Hetalia fanfiction)

Chapter 5

Norway stepped into his apartment and sighed, deeply.

"Two veeks down, ten to go," he mumbled as he walked into the cleanly organized living room, setting his satchel on the couch and plopping down next to it.

He stared at the wall for a long time, knowing he had work to do but suddenly too uninspired to do it. After what felt like a long time, Norway finally pulled out his laptop and signed in. A few emails loaded into his inbox. He archived the unimportant spams and then looked at the last email left.

It was from one of his bosses, addressed to him and a handful of other government officials.

Norway skimmed threw it, expecting it to be full of uninteresting updates or useless statistics.

But as he read, he sat up. His eyebrows furrowed. His shoulders tensed.

"You've got to be yoking," he mumbled, reading over the short email again. And then he grabbed the remote to his television set and clicked it on. It was already set to the local news channel. The tv was muted so he couldn't hear what the professional-looking spokesperson was saying, but the bold words lining the screen beneath him confirmed all his fears. "England Halts Export of Beef".

Norway whipped out his phone and pulled up England's number. He texted him furiously, making numerous typos which forced him to slow down and think. The final message went something like this:

"I shouldn't have to hear that your cows got sick from my bosses. Why didn't you tell me as soon as you found out? Do you know how difficult this is going to be for me to fix?"

He sent the message and threw his phone on the couch beside him, rubbing his eyes with both hands and then looking as his computer made a noise. Another email showed up in his inbox. From his boss. This one was specifically to him, though. Norway opened it.

"You have certainly heard of the epidemic by now. Because of the failed shipment, beef prices are up 15%. Do you think you could make some calls and see if any of our regular traders have a shipment they could send?"

Norway grunted and slammed his laptop shut. Of course he wasn't actually asking if he would. Norway saw between the lines. He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts.

"Because of course they're going to have an extra shipment of cows yust vaiting around to send me," Norway grumbled as he tapped Germany's phone number and put the iPhone to his ear. His heart pounded and he quickly thought out what he would say in his head.

"Oh Lord, help the Northman," he breathed, setting his face in his hands as he waited.

*

Nobody could help him. He tried Germany, France, Spain, Italy, Greece, Russia, Finland- but none of them had the resources to send him such a large amount of beef.

Norway cursed England again as he scrolled through his contacts. And then the same Brit suddenly texted him back:

"Sorry, mate. I've been busy with my own problems recently and it slipped my mind."

"Ja, sure, vhatever you say, mate," Norway snapped, closing the message.

He glanced through his contacts again, all of which were countries. Some obviously wouldn't be able to help him because they were so far away or already so poor- some Norway wouldn't humble himself enough to ask.

But there was one more that he had been procrastinating on. And if anyone could help him, it would be him.

Norway took a deep breath and then clicked the contact.

He waited. And waited. And waited.

He relaxed, thinking that he wasn't going to pick up.

"HEYYYYY Lukas, dude! What's up?"

Norway winced, but managed to keep his voice steady.

"Hello Alfred," he said, running a hand through his hair. "My country is actually having a sales problem at the moment. An epidemic occurred in England and so their shipment of cattle vas cancelled, and now-"

"Wait, an epic what occurred in England?"

"An epidemic," Norway repeated.

"Huh?"

Norway held the phone away from his mouth and sighed deeply.

"The cows that England vas going to send me got sick," Norway explained slowly. "So now my country is low on beef."

"Ooooooh!" Alfred exclaimed. "Why didn't you just say so, dude?"

"I did."

"Okay, okay, right. But why are you telling me?"

"I vas vondering if you vould be able to export a shipment of cattle-"

"Woah, woah, woah, dude, I only speak English, not whatever you're speaking!"

"I am speaking-!!!" Norway stopped, leaning his head back. "America, please, do you have any cows that you could send to my country?!"

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" America mumbled. "Sure, I can send you some!"

Norway sat up, his mouth falling open.

"You can?"

"Sure, dude! Where is your country on the map?"

"It's north, above Denmark and to the left of Sweden," Norway replied.

"Uhhh... I'm not seeing it..."

"It's shaped like an upside down balloon."

America laughed but then was silent for a long time.

"... I still can't find it."

"Do you know vhich vay north is?"

"Yeah! Duh! But there's nothing north of Maine, right?"

"America, you are looking at an atlas, aren't you?" Norway deadpanned.

"Uhh... hold on..." There was some rustling on the other end. "Oh! Here! Okay... north, north, north... upside down balloon... Oh."

He was silent.

"America?" Norway broke the silence.

"Hey, uh, Norway, buddy..." America said, a tad quieter than before. Norway could hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Ja, vhat is it?"

"I didn't realize that you were overseas... I'm sorry but I don't have the resources at the moment to send a shipment so far-"

Norway hung up.