It Rained Too Soon

II

"Polen! Wait up!"

"C'mon, Niemcy! You slow-poke! Hehe!"

Germany dropped to the floor, and starting scan around for it. He couldn't find his keys. They just weren't there. Maybe he dropped it at France's house? No, he most likely dropped it midway there.

He started walking down the sidewalk, looking around for any traces of his key. It just wasn't there. Germany decided to give up, and went over to the nearest bus stop.

Bump. Chatter chat. Chirp. Squeal.

These were the annoying noises Germany heard as he sat inside the bus. It was excessively too loud for his ears. Sadly, he didn't bring any earplugs or anything. He just had to stick with this bothersome, ear-bleeding mess.

Swoosh.

The doors finally opened. Now they've stopped near the hospital. He got out of his seat, and walked down the isle.

"Have a good day sir," the bus driver said. "You too," Germany replied. He then stepped down the steps, and onto the cement floor. He sighed in relief as the horrific noises of children screeching was gone. Now, all he had to do was to walk to the hospital to greet his friend, who is in a coma.

The fire in the fireplace crackled. The two boys sat on the carpet, in front of the burning wood.

"Do you think I'll be free?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Soon."

He touched the other's hat.

"Your hat is so fluffy. I want to hunt raccoons with you and make some of my own with you someday!"

He chuckled.

Germany gently held Poland's hand. He lightly smiled. The machine beeped with a steady beat. He looked at Poland's sleeping face. He was in a coma.

Two years ago, he was in a war. He got severely injured. It was lethal. Though, Poland eventually got put into a coma. That's why he's here.

The curtain rustled behind him. Germany turned his head around. He saw an unfamiliar face in the walkway. "Who are you?"

"None of your business. I'm just here to see my friend." The person seemed... very much like a human. Maybe this person had been his partner in that war? They looked stern. Germany shrugged, and let go of Poland's hand. He made way for the unfamiliar guy.

Then, he left the ward, and and started to walk out of the hospital. His footsteps echoed behind him due to the large space.

Germany walked through the corridor. He was on his way to a hotel room 204. His friend, Philippines, was currently there and she was here to meet her friends.

He knocked the on wooden door. He heard footsteps. The door opened, revealing a girl with a flower on her head.

"Oh! Germany!" Philippines exclaimed. She grinned. "How are you doing?" Germany replied, "I'm doing fine." He entered the room, and sat on the couch.

Philippines went into the room where the beds were, and started to look for something. As she did that, Germany scanned his surroundings. He found a table, with a newspaper on it. He took the newspaper, and started to read.

A group of scavengers who hunted for abandoned items found an old pair of sunglasses, dating back to around 1940 on the streets in China.

The pair of sunglasses were pointy and sharp, unlike any other person has seen. It must have been made in the USA.

Why would a newspaper article feature a topic about some dusty old pair of sunglasses? That was odd.

Philippines eventually got back, a very elegant and vibrant flower in her hand. It was a chrysanthemum.

"Germany, I picked out this flower from the very center of China for you!" she beamed. Her eyes fell on the newspaper her friend was holding. "Oh."

Germany looked up. "Hm?" Philippines shook her head, "Nothing, nothing. Anyways, here's your flower." She placed the chrysanthemum on the table next to him.

He thanked her and smiled. The flower girl sat next to Germany, and looked to see what he was reading in the newspaper.

"You know, I was part of that scavenger group. The sunglasses we found... Well, it greatly represented America's. And y'know, his disappearance and that stuff." Germany nodded, "That makes sense. You think those sunglasses are actually his?"

"It might be. For now, do you want to watch a movie?"

"Sure, I'll be fine with that."

Shatter.

His sunglasses fell to the floor, a piece cracking off. He whimpered. But he didn't say anything.

The boot stomped on his brand new shades.

Sharp and pointy, shades.