Bigger Army Diplomacy

XIV

    "You're back."

Ireland raised his eyes at his brother, who was currently standing before him, just a few inches taller.

"I am," he confirmed.

A corner of England's mouth quirked up slightly, yet he still held his solemn expression. "You're back?"

"Yep. Have you not heard?" Ireland sarcastically commented.

"No, I haven't," England frowned. "Was I supposed to?"

"I don't know, were you?" England almost broke out in a laugh but regained his composer and asked where the oldest of the family was.

Ireland looked around nervously and then uneasily at his brother. He started to wonder who was the spy Vichy had told him about.

"Around."

"For a year?"

"Two years, actually," He muttered. Then a sudden pang of homesickness hit him and he couldn't help but ask where his son was.

"He's up- he's around" England passive-aggressively looked at his hands. "NORTHERN!"

"Dad!" Wales' lithe footfall sounded through the hollow stairs. "Northern got sick again!"

"I did not get sick!" Northern sneezed. "I merely fell ill!"

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Ill sounds more sophisticated," Both Ireland and his son said at the same time. The former chuckled, while the latter bounced down the stairs and finally showed his face.

"Dad?" His voice caught in his throat.

"Hi," Ireland replied.

A cough sounded through the room. Wales looked up near the doorway where the sound had come from, and her oldest brother stood there.

"Dad? Oh hey, uncle Ireland," The United Kingdom mentioned half-handedly, then did a double-take. "Uncle Ireland?"

"Hi," Ireland did a sort of half-wave at Wales' oldest brother. "I'm back...!"

"Uh, yeah, I uh, I can see that!" The UK looked at him again. "But how? Like you've been gone for what, a year?"

"Two," Wales could hear Ireland mutter under his breath. "You can stop acting like Vichy now."

"Who's Vichy?"

"Uh- someone of no consequence?"

The UK eyed him warily. "Are you sure? Because you hesitated."

Just then, someone called for him. "Jack! There's a letter for you in the mail! I mean, it's addressed to you!" He took another quick look at Ireland in disbelief before hurrying off to where the voice came from.

You know, Wales had never liked France from the minute she stepped foot on her country. A looming suspicion always followed her to no ends whenever that girl was around, and she couldn't believe how fast Jack was to trust her. It just wasn't right. Of course, she wasn't the one getting married to some random dude, so maybe France had her reasons for acting like a suspicious asshole. If she ever tried to tell her suspicious for France, no one would believe her, for she was only a wee little child, not to be 13 yet. But who knows?

"When'd you get back?" Wales asked half-heartedly. She was never that close to Uncle Ireland, and when he randomly disappeared two years ago, the only thing it did was separate her and her uncle farther than it already had.

"Mh, just now." He replied. "You've grown,"

"Yeah, I did, 'cause that's what people do. They grow," Northern Ireland sneezed at her response. Or he could've just sneezed because he was sick ill, while her uncle just laughed.

"Still as spiteful as ever, I see,"

"Wales will be Wales."

"I'm right here!" She bit, glaring at her father. Ireland seemed taken aback for a split second but shook it off before anyone else noticed. Wales was always pretty observant, despite her abrasive personality.

"I'm going to my room," She said.

Wales passed the room that France was staying in, and after a second she heard a chuckle. Nothing of interest. She passed Mrs. Normandy's room and heard nothing except a page flip from a book. Also nothing of interest.

She made her way into her room and just thought. She paced around before staggering into her bed. And thought. Something was up with France. That she knew. But why? Was it that France was just a new person? Probably not. When Germany finally showed his face, she hadn't felt this way. No, it must be trickery of some sort. But what?

But why?