Don't Judge A Girl By Her Country

She is Alive!

(Sorry it's kinda short. Hope you like it.)

This chapter begins in the middle of a meeting. It takes place in the center of a large, modern and sophisticated looking room, filled to the brim with loud and very serious looking beings. Beings is a strange word to use to describe these people, instead of, maybe, humans or even people, but these.... Beings are not normal and the definitely are not human. They are countries, or rather, the personifications of such.

Of course, many of you would probably already know this because of the past tellings of them... but what you don't know is what these said beings are speaking about. At least, not until now.

"I BELIEVE THE HERO WOULD BE THE BEST CHOICE!" One yelled. Of course, this would be America, the country that has way too much faith in itself and believes it can do no wrong.

"Oh put a cork in it, dumbkopf." Concluding from the context, this is Germany. One of the most serious and reserved countries of the many, but also... kinda scary...

"I SHOULD-A JOIN THE BELLA! ME AND MY-A FRATELLO COULD-A SHARE OUR PASTA WITH HER!" And this loud and ditsy country is Italy, or more rather, North Italy. He isn't the brightest in the bunch, but always seems to liven the party.

"Do it on your own stupido. I-a do not care for the ragazza." The one to of course be the most blunt is Romano, also called South Italy. He isn't... the easiest to get along with.

"You gits don't know a thing about caring for another country after a war, let alone one that you raised. If anyone is escort her and help her heal, it should be me." And this is England, very reserved and kind and gentlemanly, but also a horrible cook.

The countries continued to argue amongst themselves, until they heard the sound of a door closing. They all froze, and spun around, only to be met with a horrifying sight. Before them stood Farrah, the personification of the Asian country, Iraq. And in her arms, she holds and bloodied and battered Otharia, otherwise know as Y/n L/n, you. Farrah gives them a stern look as she walked forward, her black boots clacking against the tiles with each step. The woman adorning the hijab stops to stand in front of Australia, Otharia's older brother.

For once, Jett isn't making some stupid joke and doesn't have some weird expression on his face. He looks serious as he stares down at his unconscious sister. "You didn't demolish her." He asked, or also stated with some infliction of confusion.

"No, I didn't. My anger and war is with the United States, and him alone. I understand that she only wanted to help an ally, and this is a small, simple warning to not stand in my way of teaching Alfred a lesson." As she said this, she sent a cold glare at the American, before spinning on her heel and walking quickly out of the building.

Everyone stayed quiet, but it was soon interrupted when Arthur rushed towards the girl that he had raised ever since she was just a mere island. "Y/n!" He exclaimed in worry as he rushed forward and ripped the limp girl out of her brother's grip. He took her in his arms and then quickly placed her on the table, not caring that he had placed her on other's papers and files.

He leaned down and placed his ear on her chest, listening in for the soft pounding of a heartbeat. Everyone stared at him in anticipation, but relaxed when they saw of relief cross the english man's face. He stood up straight and spoke. "She is alive, but we need to treat her wounds."

The others nodded and began grabbing the materials needed to help their friend.