The Maple Tree and the War Machine

*Entry to the Manga/Anime Writing Competition* After meeting for the first time in a hundred years, Germany is confronted with feelings he never really felt before because of Canada. Le cover is made by Carmie-chan!


1. The Maple Tree and the War Machine

A/N: Canada is actually male in Hetalia!  This is a Female!Canada x Germany one-shot.  Also, this one-shot takes place in 2046, almost 101 years after the end of WWII.  Also, be warned, my pandas.  Nazis are referenced.  There is also alcohol usage in this story, but only as a pure social expectation.  Also, a crap ton of pasta.  OOOOH!! And kudos to my little brother, @Natsu Dragneel777, for being the voice of Italy to help with Italy’s responses!


March 1945

It was raining cats and dogs out there, making the battlefield into a muddy, bloody mess.  Men fell left, right, and center.  Tanks were stuck and quickly sinking.  Artillery was running out.

            “I hate this,” I muttered to no one.  This was one of those days that were going to end in a draw.  “Why did Hitler have to send us here?”

            “Say your prayers, Germany!”  I didn’t realize Britain crept up on me and into my trenches.

            I put my hands up and said nothing.  There wasn’t much to say.  Britain ended up besting Italy and Japan in a matter of seconds, and America was becoming a pain.

            “Wait!” a girl’s voice yelled over the thunder.

            I took a look at who spoke.  Beside the bushy-eyebrowed tea-sipper, stood a girl no older than fourteen in appearance, face covered in mud and grime, carrying a gun on her back and a wrench in her left hand.

            I felt at ease around her.

            “You taught me that we’re the good guys, like America said.  If we wreck him, we’ll be no better than the Nazis.  Also, we’re running out of Twinkies,” she insisted.  She gave me the strangest of looks then smiled brighter than the lightning.  “No offense, good sir.  It’s just some of your side is full of really bad people.”

            “None taken, young lady.  Mein superior is an ass, to be honest.  Power made him that way,” I replied.

            Britain sighed.  “Fine, Canada, I’ll leave him alone, this once.  Mark my words, little sister, I meet him on the battlefield again, I will not spare him.”


            And like that, the girl known as Canada walked out of my life.

*           *           *

March 2046

“Germany!” Italy sang as he pranced into my office.  “What’s new?  America’s supposed to be stopping by, isn’t he?  Pasta!”

            I heaved a sigh as I put the phone down.  I just got off the phone with Japan, just to check to see what useful tips he could give me for the upcoming visit with America, and Italy just happened to pop in at the right time.

            “Ah, Italy.  How are you?  It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” I answered.  “I have a question: How one earth would one cope with America?”

            Italy paused his train of pasta thought to think about my problem.  “Give him pasta?” he suggested.

            I sighed.  “I thought I’d offer him beer.  From what Britain’s been saying, America can drink him under the table.”

            “But you’re used to drinking beer!  And I heard that America doesn’t handle beer with over six percent alcohol well.”  Italy cracked another wide grin.  “You can offer him pasta, too!  To help him cope with his hangover.”

            “No, I was thinking something lighter for him.  Maybe his American horror movie to pass the time.”

            “HORROR?!  GERMANY!!!  NO!!!!!”  Italy ran out of my office.  “SOMEONE, MAKE HIM STOP!!”

            “I WAS ONLY KID-” The phone rang, cutting off my retort.  Mein Gott, I didn’t realize how much we act like children.

            Italy scurried back into the room.  “Who-who’s calling?” he asked timidly.

            I shrugged and picked up the receiver.  “Hello?”

            “Hi!” a woman’s voice answered.  “This wouldn’t happen to be Germany, would it, eh?”

            “Speaking.  Who is this?”

            “My name’s Canada, and I’m calling to let you know that my brother, America, can’t make your meeting.  He claims he’s sick, but all he’s doing is sitting at Harvey’s inhaling burgers and watching football.”

            I paused for a second.  Canada, she introduced herself as.  I knew that name.  That belonged to the girl who spared me over a hundred years ago.

            I clenched my fist anyway.  Only America could procrastinate like that.  “THAT NO GOOD, PIECE OF FAT!!!” I screamed into the receiver.

            There was a pause before, “Whoa, eh.  Take your anger out on America.  I’ll get him to call as soon as he comes back.  Good day, eh?”  Her end clicked, and the line went dead.

            “Ger-Germany?  D-Do you need any pasta to cheer you up?  Maybe some pizza?” Italy squeaked.

            I inhaled to get my anger issues under control.  “Some beer would be nice.  And some würst.  That would be nice, too.”

            “’Kay.”  Italy made a mad dash out of the office.

            As soon as the door shut, it slammed back open with the arrival of none other than America, chewing away on a hamburger.

            “’Sup, dude!” he said with his mouth full.  “It’s been a while since the last meeting, hasn’t it?”

            “Uh, yes,” I replied, utterly disgusted with the way America carried himself.  From the amount of food he eats, it’s a miracle he’s still skinny.

            He swallowed, and grinned.  “Awesome, right!  We were all supposed to be taking the year off in order to make some new friends, right?  Here’s a proposition for you.”  America chucked a small envelop at me.  “Invitation for you, Italy, and Japan for my upcoming Christmas bash.  It’s gonna be the biggest one I’ve had, yet!”

            I sighed.  I wasn’t even thinking about that at that point.

            “What’s the matter, dude?  You’re not gonna be coming to it?”

            “No, it’s not that, America.  I just haven’t been thinking that far ahead, yet, but I’m sure Italy has,” I offered.  “Also, what was that phone call about?  Your sister phoned earlier to tell me you couldn’t make it.”

            “She worries too much, to be honest with you.  You know how most sisters are, right?  All I did was go and get me a pick me up before my flight over, and she thinks I’m bailing on something.”

            I had to laugh.  “So you think your sister worries too much?  Try mein sister, Hungary.  She’s worse.  The minute I sit down when I see her, she freaks.”

            “Good to know!”  America gave me a thumbs up.  “But you will think about attending my bash?  I know it’s a long way off, but it’s always good to have something well thought out in advance.”

            I glanced at the envelope.  “This is unlike you, America.  You usually wait until the last minute with these things.”

            “Canada’s been trying to get me off procrastinating.  What can I say?  It’s a habit that needs to be kicked.”

            “That’s true.  Also, about this visit: How long do you plan on staying?  I heard it’s a long plane ride from your place to mein.”

            “Yeah, that is true.  I was thinking only for a few days.  That’s how long Japan and I had to chum up.”

            “Oh?  And how was that?”

            “It was awesome, man!  He totally toughed out a horror movie with me, and let me play one of his horror games!”

            “That’s ... wunderbar.”  I could tell by the way America was adamantly animated about Japan’s visit was going to take up most of the day.

            And it was going to be a long rest of the week for me.

*           *           *

December 2046

“Cheer up, Germany,” Japan muttered.  “It’s not like the others are going to be making things awkward for you.”

            “France has already tried,” I sighed.  I didn’t like being around the so-called Allies.  They always had it out for everyone to try to get along, and then they go and mess it up.  Much like Italy in an extremely weird way.

            Ja, France was trying to make a fool out of me, again:  Especially with how he was remarking that some people like men in uniforms.

            So, of course, I was a little intimidated.  Not just for mein sake, but Japan’s, too.  Out of the rest of the male nations, we were the only ones to show up in uniform.  The others were dressed in either traditional or formal wear.

            Hungary was the one to point out the fact there was no real need for a uniform, but she was awful nice in telling us so.

            Ukraine, however, was just happy to see Japan.  I guessed it had been too long since she’d last seen him.

            “Don’t you both look dashing!” she squealed as she squeezed him into one of her soul-crushing hugs.  One of the things she shared with her brother Russia, I guess.  “Besides, how are you guys?  It’s been a long time since I last saw you guys.”

            “I’ve been doing fine,” I answered.  I wasn’t going to comment about Japan suffocating.  I was sure he would say something about him being uncomfortable.

            “I’m good,” Japan managed to get out.  “It’s just that you are crushing me, Ukraine.”

            “Oh, sorry!”  She released the man, and offered him a small smile.  “I hope that didn’t scare you too badly.  Busty girl problems.”

            “It’s okay, Ukraine.  Italy scares me more with his carefree attitude.”

            That was when I noticed Italy waving at us from beside Russia and America.  “Speak of the devil,” I muttered as I made my way over to him.

            I didn’t realize America had invited everyone to his Christmas party.  I ended up bumping into a few countries I didn’t recognize.  Many of them engaged in small talk as I made my way over.

            “See, dude?  What did I tell you?” America intercepted me half way and threw his arm around mein shoulders.  “Was I right all those months ago?”

            “Ja,” I admitted, rolling my eyes.  I hated it when the biggest idiot of the world was right.

            “Hey, Russia, dude!  Bring Italy over!” he called out over his shoulder. 

            “Of course!” Russia replied with a kind smile.  He twisted mein friend in a grasp that guaranteed he wouldn’t escape without breaking every bone in his body.

            I guess that’s what happens when you turn soviet for almost a century.

            “Germany!” Italy sang with a goofy grin.  “I thought you said you weren’t coming!  Also, they have pasta here!”

            At this point, America mysteriously disappeared.

            I sighed.  “I told you, I didn’t know how long I would be sick for.  Mein Gott, American food is almost nothing but fat,” I answered.  A couple weeks before, Italy, Japan, and I decided to take a vacation in New York.  The higher class cuisine was well prepared (a treat from Italy), and the sushi was a few smidgens off from Japan’s (Japan’s indulgence).  After going out for at least one hamburger, we stayed away from restaurants.  American food didn’t exactly agree with me.

            It was then that Russia decided to let Italy go.  “Ah, so good seeing you!” the closet psychopath greeted.  “It’s been almost 60 years when you were living at my place, da?  How have you been?”

            “All right,” I answered.  “What about you?  Still trying to get over the fact I moved out?”

            “More like thinking about waging war against America again,” he replied cheerfully.

            The sound of Austria’s string quartet ended, and then there was feedback screeching through the room.

            “Hey, ladies and gents!  Thanks for coming to my biggest Christmas party!”  America’s voice, amplified by a microphone, announced.  “You guys are AWESOME for doing this!”  It didn’t take long for a spotlight to find him.  “This is the least I can do for helping with the celebration of the end of World War II!”

            There was very little applause from the people around us.  At that point, Japan decided to join Italy and me.

            “And here to help with the awesomeness is my sister, Canada!”

            The spotlight turned from America to where a grand staircase was positioned.  I wondered how much America had to pay in order to even host this.

            And there stood a girl.  A girl looking at the ground.  A pretty girl looking at the ground.

            Italy put down his pasta.  “She’s cute!” he pointed out to my annoyance.  “She grew up well, I think!”

            Japan nodded his agreement.  “It may be America, but Canada is definitely stealing the show,” he agreed.

            I wasn’t going to say anything.  So, it was Canada.  That sense of recognition wasn’t wrong, then.

            Indeed, she grew well.  It was well over a hundred years ago when I seen her on the European battlefield as a young girl, and as a maturing young lady in G8 and G20 meetings.  She was indeed a fierce opponent in battle.  Shy when it came to meetings, but fierce when she needed to be heard.

            And there Canada stood in a beautiful red and white gown that hugged her body just right.  When she finally glanced up, I could see a slight blush under her glasses and the shyest of smiles playing on her red lips.

            “Ah, Germany?” Italy squeaked.  “I think she’s headed this way.”

            “Also, you are staring,” Japan noted.  “Maybe you should lower the intimidation factor a little.  She is, after all, still a young woman.”

            I turned to look at Japan.  “I- I wasn’t staring!” I stuttered.  “It’s just America made her the focus, that’s–”

            “All?  I doubt it, Germany,” the girl’s voice said, cutting through the sound of a resumed string quartet.

            “Hiya, Canada!  Long time, no see!” Italy greeted.

            “Hey, Italy!” Canada giggled.  Damn, she was cute, like Italy said.  “Man, has it really been so long since I last saw you?”

            “It sure has!” he chirped.

            “Hello.”  Japan bowed to her.  “I trust you’ve been doing well.”

            “Sorta.  I kinda miss having Britain and France for company every once in a while, no thanks to America practically moving in with me.  The douche bag opened a trade agreement with me at the promptings of his boss.”  She heaved a sigh and put her hands on her hips.  “At least I still have my maple syrup, eh?”

            “Indeed.”  Japan bowed again.

            “And I haven’t seen you since last year, eh, Germany?  Must be awkward outside a G8 summit, eh?” she said, giving me a shy smile.  “Russia was over at my place not that long ago.  He was saying something about you helping out Greece during the recession.”

            I nodded curtly.  “Ja,” I managed.  Never mind me being intimidating.  Her adorableness was downright scary.

            Canada tucked a lock of honey gold hair behind her left ear and adjusted her glasses.  “Don’t be so nervous, eh?  I only came by because America said I didn’t have the courage to talk to you again after World War II.  That, and Austria was worried I wouldn’t have a partner for whatever he has planned.”

            So, this was part of a dare from America, and Austria.  Why are people trying to get us to be even seen together?  It wasn’t that long ago we saw each other as enemies, I thought as her interest drifted back to Italy and Japan.  I glanced around the room.  Either this could end very badly for both of us, or just me.

            “Psst!” a cocky voice whispered.  “The awesome Prussia demands you ask little lovely Canada to dance before I take her.”

            I rolled my eyes and ended up turning around to face my obnoxious older brother.  “Prussia, you know just as well as I do that she’s not exactly the type to be asking me for anything, especially to dance.  She’s still so small compared to me.”

            “Oh, stop whining!  Women are meant to be tiny!  Loosen up!  Get to know the girl that saved you over a hundred years ago!” Prussia threw his arm around me; much like America did not that long ago.  His dark red eyes were lit with a crazy glint.  “Who knows?  Maybe in the next hundred years, little miss Canada will be mein sister, huh, Germany?”

            “Prussia, please.  She’s not mein–”

            “Her conversation with Italy and Japan has ended!  She’s coming back here!”  Prussia gave me one last cocky grin before he disappeared into the crowd.

            I felt something tap my shoulder, so I turned to see Canada with her head lowered, her face completely red now, and her hands behind her back.  “Um, also as part of the dare from America, and Italy was all for it, so do you wanna, I don’t know, dancewithmeorsomething?” she stuttered.

            I had to smile.  “Of course,” I answered.  “It’s the least I can do to repay you.”  I offered her mein arm.

            Her eyes got shiny, embarrassment clear on her cute little face, and she took it.

            And just as the string quartet started again, we started to whirl.

*           *           *

September 2047

I had just gotten in from a long day of trying to train Italy to not cower in fear, so I figured a good book would be what I needed to relax.

            It had been several months since Canada offered her companionship to me.  To be honest, it was a nice gesture to see at least one of the Allied Powers not let the past interfere with the present.

            The first few days, she came to training with Italy.  She was definitely soft-spoken, and she definitely did most of her own training with America, so, of course, she offered useful information about the Allied training.

            I dismissed Canada after a week.  Pacifist, sure, but she knew how to fight which was refreshing.  Italy was also a pacifist, but he refused to fight.

            Just as I took a seat on the couch facing away from the entrance way, mein door slammed open, and in steamed an angry Canada with her pet polar bear clinging to her shoulder.

            “I’ve had it with America, eh!”  It wasn’t like her to yell, so I stood up.  “Exploiting my maple syrup like it’s his!  Jesus Murphy!”  She noticed me out of the corner of her eye, and stormed into mein living room and sat down beside me.

            Mein Gott, she was cute even when she was furious.  Like a much less intimidating version of Russia, with America’s hair.

            “I wasn’t expecting a visit from you so soon, Canada,” I said as I gingerly sat back down.

            “Yeah, well, Britain and France were no help when it came to dealing with my issue at hand, eh.  They told me to grin and bear it.”

            “Russia tried to be of help, eh, but what he suggested was brutal to say the least,” her polar piped up as he let go of her shoulder and curled up on the couch across from her.

            “So, I came here after asking Japan for help.”  Her violet eyes were practically on fire.  “If anything, you’d know what to do.”

            “Uh, in this type situation, nein.”  I could sense the rage building further, I continued, “Look, if it makes you feel better, you can your maple syrup and bring it here for safekeeping.”

            “But how do I know you’re not going to do the same thing as America?”  She glared at her hands.  “Besides, America is still adamant about taking little Kumajirou’s habitat to make more food.”

            I grabbed her chin and forced her to look at me.  “Is this the face of a man who would lie to you?” I asked.

            “Ever since we became friends, no, Germany.  If anything, you stuck to your guns in World War II, eh?”

            “I have no idea what that means, but ja.”

            Her furrowed brow lost its grip and she relaxed a few hairs.  She gave me that shy smile she always reserved for me.  “You’re a good friend, Germany.  Much better than England and France combined, eh.”

            I snorted.  “Those two are pussies all on their own, but they are little powerhouses combined.”

            She laughed.  “Those two are always fighting amongst themselves.  They’d never know if a train hit them in a head-on collision or not.”  Canada pressed a kiss to my cheek.  I could feel mein face heat up worse than that one misunderstanding I had with Italy a while ago.  “Thanks for being understanding about it, eh.  It really means a lot.”  Her innocent smile faded into concern.  “What’s the matter?  Something wrong?”

            “N-n-nothing!” I stuttered.  Either something is wrong with me, or I’m turning into a hopeless case.

            She started smiling again.  “You’re lying, Germany.  I know that.”

            I blinked, still blushing.  “I have no idea what you’re going on about.”

            She jerked her head out of my grasp and looked past me at the end table behind me.  “Then what’s that in the vase on the end table, eh?  Red roses, if I’m not mistaken.”

            I looked away.  “Okay.  Maybe I was planning on giving them to you the next meeting.”

            “Only maybe?”

            “Okay, it’s more on the line of you need these, because, for many months now, I’ve grown to love you.”

            Canada’s smiled faded and she looked back at her hands.

            “Too soon?”

            “No.  You’re just in time, because, I’ve kinda had a crush on you since I was a kid.”  She looked out the window and her eyes lit up.  “Hey, I didn’t know you kept a maple tree here.”

            I kissed her forehead.  “I planted one here as soon as I was able to get my hands on a sapling.  To remind me of you, mein maple tree.”

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