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The chapter of this story contains: minimum swearing

Curiosity(SteinxSpirit) Ch. 1

At the DWMA academy; 8:45 am, Black Star and Soul spent half an hour playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who will fight Death the kid first.

Black Star marked a line, keeping score as he pointed out “Ok Soul, we’re at 34 and the last point goes to who fights Kid first.”

Soul questioned “When one of us win, which one of us is gonna piss off the dude?” He placed his left elbow on his desk as he rested his chin on his left hand “It’s not like he has a grudge against us.”

“Not a problem. Remember when I a piece of the decoration from the school.”

The snow-colored haired teenage boy stroked his chin, putting his memories together “Yeah… I remember.”

Meanwhile, Maka, seemingly without any regard as she read her book, was in her thoughts ‘Why would those two fight Kid? They fought him before and it didn’t end well.’

She closed her book and put it in her bag and looked at the time on her right wristwatch ‘Stein would never be late.’

She looked to the left over to her semi-serious fighting partner “Hey Soul?”

It caught the shark-toothed teen’s attention “Hm?”

Where do you think Professor Stein is?”

Before Soul answered, he gave a short glance at the front classroom door “If I had to guess, it would be when we least expect it.”

Black Star interrupted as he raised his forearm in a 45 degree angle “Soul, you ready to settle the score, or are you afraid you’ll lose to this invincibility?”

Soul scoffed as he repeated after the cocky blue-haired, preparing his move “Tch. You wish.” He returned a grin of determination before the boys ball their hands into a fist as they threw them down in sync with their loud chant “Rock, Paper, Scissors, SHOO-!”

The door knob wiggle before the bromantic teens could finish the battle, throwing them out of their focus.

End of Chapter 1
Curiosity(Stein x Spirit) Ch. 1
Soul, Maka, Tsubaki and Black Star join together to find out why Stein was late to teach the class.

I apologize for the cliff hanger. There will be more characters in the other chapters.

Fanfiction(c) SweetBebyBurd/Vegetafan157

The characters and the series belong to Atsushi Okubo and Funimation Entertainment
This chapter contains: Slight foul language, Bromance and Puking

I wonder… Ch. 4

It was noon and the smell of coffee brewed into the air as the caffeinated liquid filled the glass container from the machine. America sat on a chair next to the coffee maker, waiting for England to wake up. The coffee was done brewing after the last drop. England walked in the kitchen, feeling and looking like he spent the night at a frat boy party; his eyes surrounded by two red rings. America knew England didn’t get a good night’s sleep.

He tried to keep the atmosphere in the room calm “Um… good morning.”

The hung over country said in a tired tone “Good morning.”

America stood up from his seat as he gave a salute “I made some coffee.”

In pain, England held his head and grunted “Thank you, Alfred.”

America served England’s cup before himself.

He offered “Do you want any sugar or cream, man?”

England requested “I’ll have a packet of sweetener, please.”

America added the sugar to both cups, but realized that there wasn’t anything to stir the sugar with; at least a utensil that doesn’t clink the glass, irritating England currently sensitive ears.

A voice popped America out of his thoughts “America,” England suggested “There’s some stirring straws in the cabinet above the stove.”

America wasn’t as familiar with the house as he thought.

He placed a hand behind his head as a shade of blush of embarrassment spread across his face “Oh, right. Thanks.”

England pointed to the cabinet the straws were in. America turned on his heel; without being a second longer, he quickly grabbed a straw, stirred England’s coffee first, and then stirred his own. For the next five minutes, the two countries quietly enjoyed their afternoon beverages. After a cup of coffee, England felt some pressure build in his stomach and he knew that pressure very well.

Something felt as if it was about to spew out of his esophagus, making him hold his belly “Good Lord… ”

He ran as fast as he could to the bathroom, leaving America unable to react fast enough before he heard a sound of puking that snapped him out of it. He rushed into the bathroom, seeing an English man with his head hovering over the toilet bowel. America walked over to the vomiting country, got down on one knee and gently rubbed England’s back in circles, trying to sooth him. Ten minutes of last night’s booze being drained out of England’s body had passed and he felt a lot better.

He exclaimed in question “What the bloody hell happened last night!?”

America explained as England lifted his head from the bowl “You were drunk.”

The newly sober man held his face into his palm in embarrassment as America added “Last night, you didn’t answer the phone when I called so I wanted to check up on you.”

England, still too embarrassed to show his face, asked “What time is it?”

America looked at the time on his watch “2:45.”

England panicked “2:45 in the afternoon!? W-We’re late!”

America informed “England, it’s Sunday.”

In a pinch, England calmed down hearing the news, but a thought occurred to him “Wait, I had some coffee in the afternoon.”

“Does it really matter, dude? It was to get the sauce out of your system and it worked.”

The older nation agreed “Well, I suppose so.”

All of the things that happened last night flooded back into his memory; expressing this with the face of shame.

The now concerned American asked “Are you alright, bro?”

England replied “All the things that happened; when I snapped at you… I’m sorry.”

America pulled him in for a hug, surprising him, but in a few seconds made him content “England, like I said last night,” he gently combed his fingers in England’s hair “I’m always here for you.”

His once older brother spoke in question “R-Really?”

“I mean it.”

“I’m glad.”

“I’m glad too, big bro.”

England was caught by that big bro comment and shed a tear of joy.

Before you read any more than this: The chapter of this fan fiction contains: Alcohol abuse and historical references

I wonder Ch. 3

America knocked on England’s front door “England! Are you there?”

There was no answer “I’m going in.”

He roughly elbowed the front door to England’s house open; to his surprise, it was already unlocked, England would never leave the door unlocked, it’s unusual to him. A strong smell had seeped up in his nose, making wrinkle in sensitivity and he knew what it was, alcohol. The smell wasn’t bad, it was just strong. The freedom nation searched around the house for him, but couldn’t. It wasn’t long until he seen a thin-boned man who had a 2/3 of Whiskey in his clenched hand, sitting in a rocking chair in a booze cellar through an open door. America knew who the intoxicated man was, it was England. America very much knows the British man’s limits when it comes to liquor.

America stuttered “A-Arthur?”

England turned to see who it was calling his name and picked up the sight of a nervous American, he stood up from his seat as he slurred is words “Amaee-“ he hiccupped “Alfred, whyer yoou here?”

America answered with composure in his voice “You didn’t answer the phone when I called.”

All of the slurring in England’s voice was quickly replaced by anger “Why did you call? I know you hate me.”
“Arthur, that’s not true.”

The intoxicated nation snapped “Don’t lie to me!” making the American jump.

Within a few seconds, England’s eyes of anger was replaced by sorrow as he dropped to his knees, the whiskey bottle fell out of his hand spilled a little onto the floor and his eyes filled to the brims of his eyelids, rolling down his cheeks. America’s fright from being snapped at settled and turned into concern. He walked over to England, crouched down to his height and hugged the older nation into a hug, attempting to comfort him, knowing England hugged him back gave the sign that it made him feel better, however, England’s tears continued to fall and his bottom lip quivered briefly as he buried his face into America’s chest, staining America’s hoodie as he began to sob, but America didn’t mind, he was more worried about his ally. A few minutes passed and England’s sobs faded, leaving the room as well as the house completely quiet.

England broke the silence; his words muffled into America’s chest “Why is it like this?”

America furrowed his eyebrows “What do you mean?”

England lifted his head, meeting his emerald eyes with America’s ocean water orbs “I’ve always hated the thought of you leaving and I was embarrassed to admit it,” he sniffled as his tears filled into his eyes and his voice cracked “I’ve wondered if you hate me.”

America slightly tightened his hug, trying not to make the hug too tight, he said in a quiet tone “Britain,” England was surprised by being addressed by his other name “I would never hate you. We’ve fought before, but I still think you’re a cool dude. Why would I hate you?”

England answered as he nuzzled his face into America’s arm, muffling the next words he sobbed out “The White House fire.”

His answer was clear enough for America to hear and remembers that day very well: August 24, 1814. The heroic country tries his best not to think about it too much.
“It’s a thing in the past.”

A soothing tone filtered his voice as he lifted England’s chin, making him widen his eyes a bit as he softly requested “Please, get some rest.”

England nodded as his once little brother carried him bridal style to his bedroom and tucked him under his blanket. Barely awake, England’s eyes slowly fluttered, with each blink, he fell more into his subconscious as America gently combed his fingers through England’s bright blond locks.

He wished England sweet dreams “Sleep tight, dude.”

England let out a weary yawn “Same to you, America-AAH.”

He fell into his blissful abyss of his subconscious. America gave a warm smile as he left the room. He walked through the hallway to see if his old room was the same as it was before he moved out, which seemed to remain intact and as if it was dusted and cleaned every day. America sat on the edge of the bed, making it squeak.

He sighed softly “Memories.” As he looked down at the beds surface, he felt sadness flood in, making him frown “He must’ve missed me if he meant to keep this room clean.” He gave a small smile.

End of chapter 3

Author's Note: There will be a fourth chapter, but it will be the last one.

Historical Note: The "White House fire": In August 24, 1814, some British troops had burned the White House and pretty much most of Washington D.C.(At least according to Wikipedia).
I wonder... Ch. 3
I do not own the characters, all the characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz. This is made for only entertainment purposes.
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: strong language)
The chapter of this fan fiction contains: The uncensored ‘F’ bomb, a reference(s) to America’s current amount of states. Do not read any further if you do not favor the content mentioned.

I wonder Ch. 2

America let out a short, fear-filled gasp as he shot his eyes open. He glanced at the clock and it read ’12:00pm’, the bright red numbers flashed from the time telling device. America, still a little groggy, used all of his might to sit up on the left side of the bed.

He exclaimed nervously in his head ‘Man I should’ve went to bed early instead of playing Five N***** at F*****’s all night with Tony.’

He briefly scratched the back of his head ‘Well, it’s Saturday, so I won’t have to go to the meeting.’

He covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned and stretched his arms, fading his grogginess away. A thought occurred to the nation as he stood out of his bed and walked into Tony’s bedroom; Tony wasn’t in there.

“Tony?” He kept shouting the being’s name, searching the bathroom from the bathtub to the sink. “Where are you, dude?”

He strolled passed the couch in the living room that caught the corner of his eye. He took a few steps back, knowing that there was a familiar figure lying on the couch. It was Tony, asleep with his right hand hanging off of the couch as if he had a few too many drinks last night and passed out, but as far as America knew, the alien never drank a drop of alcohol before.

The American chuckled “He must’ve crashed out from too much junk food or video gaming…”

He briefly paused as he seen the small piles of empty candy bar wrappers and waffle-flavored potato chip bags “Or both.”

He slowly approached Tony, trying not to wake him up moved the being’s hand onto his belly. He quietly walks away from the couch, still trying to keep himself from waking Tony.

The nation became curious about England “I should call Arthur; he probably doesn’t want to talk to me, but still…”

He pulled out his cellphone, dialed the other ally’s number, waiting for him to answer as he held it to his ear, but it was no avail, leaving the temporarily 50 state country concerned and points it out “Arthur never misses the phone.”

His concern grew larger in his chest with each passing second as he looked to the ground with furrowed eyebrows. He threw on a pair of black jeans and hoodie with a yellow star in the front and a yellow ‘50’ in the back and his sneakers.

He almost grabbed the door when he heard a chanting in a questioning tone “Fucking? Fucking?”

America turned and seen Tony.

The being had a facial expression of curiosity, leading the nation to explain “I’m going somewhere,” he grabbed and twisted the doorknob “Keep an eye on the house while I’m gone okay?”

Tony answered with a singular chant “Okay” before America left as he closed the door behind him.

End of Chapter 2
I wonder Ch. 2
It's not full-on strong language, but it's a couple 'F' bombs.

The characters and the series do not belong to me, they belong to Himaruya Hidekaz.

Before you read passed this,
The chapter of this fan fiction contains: Detailed America fan service, modern American technology reference(s)
I wonder... Chapter 1

At the world meeting, around,  America took over(as usual) and began the conversation "Ok guys, my house is getting stalked by these toy helicopters and I'm going to need as much help as I can get,"

He slammed his open hand onto the table "So who's with me?" Murmuring of uncertainty bounced around the room.

While England, with his arms crossed and his facial expression filled with annoyance, he stood up and began "Alfred, I'm pretty sure you've had plenty of time to fix the issue."

He took multiple footsteps to the determined American until they were a few feet apart "What encouraged you to even speak of this situation long after it began?"

The moment he looked the younger nation in deep into his eyes, the determination in America quickly switched into timidity and he blushed out of embarrassment a light pink, biting his lip.


It was 7a.m; the showerhead sprayed a seemingly endless rain of water on America's neck, making the droplets travel from his collar bone to his toned abs. His lightly tan, water soaked skin reflected from the sun, coming from the window above America's head. He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, spraying every spot in his scalp. He turned the hot water knob to the left, turning off the faucet.

He stepped out of the tub as he turned his head to see the sky as he commented "Man, it's an awesome day, especially since it IS spring."

He grabbed a towel, dried himself off and wrapped it around his waist. His cowlick somehow has a way of keeping its form despite being wet, it still stands, defying water's gravity, it's always been a mystery to the cheerful, but semi-serious nation. It wasn't long until he heard a familiar beeping sound of a cam recorder. He turned to see that it was a toy helicopter with a camera pointed at him.

He processed his thoughts "Wait, it wasn't there before I turned away," His heartbeat sped up a little bit "But if it was there after I turned away then it recorded my...!"

He had a moment of realization "Bro! Whoever you are, don't record my butt! Not cool!"

*End of Flashback*

England gave a non-amused expression as he thought to himself ‘I know he has a curtain so why couldn't he close it?'

He was snapped out of his thoughts as America thought of something "I have an idea, I'll just make a recall."
End of Chapter 1
I wonder... Ch. 1
Hope you enjoy.

None of Hetalia characters belong to me nor does Hetalia. Both belong to Himaruya Hidekaz.



vegetafan157's Profile Picture
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
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Date of Birth: 9/10/1996

Current location: United States

Educational Status: Graduated high school, learning Japanese, rusting out Spanish, practicing cursive

Occupations here: Writing fanfictions, drawing

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I don't mean to sound cheezy as I type this down, but... this year... it went by fast. I wish for you all to stay safe.
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