Okay, here's Chapter two for The Chibidemic. I know I haven't updated this in a while. I'm sorry, I would have had this up sooner, but I've been busy with work lately. I hope to update the story more frequently than this.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

There won't be many pairings in this story, but the pairings in this chapter are slight ChibitaliaXHRE, and implied GerIta. Everything else, at least for now, is friendship... At least to me, that is. Interpret it how you will.

All I want is to have a productive meeting where the nations can rationally sort out global disputes without any trouble.

And then this happens.

The room is silent. Most nations just stare, too stunned to say anything. I can see smiles on Spain and Hungary's faces, who are clearly amused.

Italy looks up at me expectantly, and a few other nations follow suit.

Why do they expect me to know how to fix this? I may be the most organized out of us, but I'm about as clueless as them.

Nonetheless, they expect me to say something.

I stand up from my seat, trying to appear as calm as possible. I take a step towards England, who was a metre or so away from his seat next to me.

"England, what happened?"

The boy glances up at me. His emerald eyes meet mine, and his face shows momentary… shock? No, fear. He backs away a couple of steps, and I think I can see him tremble slightly before he simply answers, "I don't know, Mr. Germany," he begins to speak very quickly, and his voice becomes even higher pitched, "I was just fighting with France, and one minute we were normal, and then I thought I could throw some herbs in his face, but then I only had this powder, so I used it… and then this happened." He gestures down towards his significantly smaller body.

He looks back up at me. His expression shows that he expects me to punish him. If I wasn't as confused as he is, I might.

I feel the corners of my mouth pull into a frown, "Powder? What do you mean?"

England walks over to his discarded pants, and kneels on the ground, his tiny hands groping inside one of the pockets.

He walks back to me, with his hands cupped together, holding a chalky, blood red powder, "I threw some of it in France's face, hoping it would get in his eyes, or something. I breathed some of it in by accident, and France started coughing, and next thing I know, we're both about five years old."

Without a second thought, I hold out my hands to him. "I will have to temporarily confiscate this, so that it does not cause further harm."

England's face briefly shows a look of pain, as if he is being asked to hand over his first born child.

I bend my knees, leaning down towards him, so that I'm closer to his eye level. "England. This powder could be dangerous. Hand it over."

~0~

I remain in my seat, as I watch the scene unfold in front of me. I keep as neutral an expression as possible. I'd bet none of these idiots realize just how powerful you can become with that powder. I'll have to make sure no one suspects me for planting that stuff on that fool, England.

The only one, who seems to catch on to the dangers of this substance, is Germany. That's a nuisance, but by the look on England's face, Germany won't be much of a problem for long.

I can't help but smile. Why didn't I think of this sooner? England is the perfect origin for this epidemic. His natural ignorance and short temper combined with all the lack of self-control of a child will have him infecting people without a thought.

"No way! Eat Chibi Powder, you bloody potato-for-brains, tank wanker!"

How cute. He's named it now.

I only need to see Germany doubling over in pain to know that England's thrown the "Chibi Powder" in his face.

Well done, my little pawn. Well done.

My brief moment of victory is interrupted by the eerie feel of hot breath crawling down my neck. A pair of lips ghosts against my ear, and a curtain of pale blonde hair drapes itself over my shoulder.

A cold, yet surprisingly innocent sounding voice whispers to me, "Aren't they cute, brother?"

Belarus. I'm too terrified to do anything but nod.

Her voice becomes a menacing purr. "I think so too… I bet our children will be adorable little angels, when we. Get. Married."

She has interrupted my plans. All I have to do is have every other nation infected, and be the only one to stay normal. Soon, they will all submit to the mighty Russia, and I will rule the world.

But first, I have to get rid of Belarus.

~0~

My eyes fix on Germany, writhing in pain. He makes the occasional grunting noise, but other than that, he stays silent. After he stays still for a few seconds, I know he's done shrinking.

I bolt out of my seat and rush over to help him up…

And my foot catches on someone's chair leg. I flail my arms in the air to regain my balance, but it's hopeless. I know I'm falling.

No! I hate looking like such a moron! Every time I try to help Germany out, something goes wrong, and I end up looking useless! Why couldn't I not screw up, just this once?

I bring my forearms together in front of me, parallel to each other, palms down to break my fall.

My arms slap against the floor, but they stop my face from hitting it. I can already feel the sting, both from my arms, and from Germany's ever lowering confidence in me.

I take a deep breath, and prop myself up. I don't want Germany to help me. Not this time. I can't be dependent on him forever.

I wince slightly as I walk forward towards Germany, pretending nothing happened. But I can feel the stares from everyone.

"Germany? Are you okay?"

A high pitched German accent cuts through me, "No, Italy. I am not okay! For vhat reason would I be okay?" For some reason, the clash between the child's voice and the fury in his tone, that normally would have scared me, is almost laughable.

I offer my hand, and he takes it, allowing me to pull him up.

"Okay, let's see how cute you were when you were little…"

And the face I see shatters my entire world. Everything I thought to be true.

"I-Italy? Are you alright?" His voice has an uncharacteristic concern in it.

"H…" the words sound foreign in my throat from misuse, "Holy Rome?"

His eyebrows knit together, and a scowl that is too serious for any child to have forms on his lips, "Vhat are you going on about, Italy?"

Big… well, not-so-big Brother France sashays over to us to take a look at Germany. His face pales, and in a way, he has seen a ghost. "Mon dieu! You are right, Italy! 'e is unmistakably ze Holy Roman Empire."

Germany's voice takes on an irritated tone, "Not you, too! My name is Germany, not "Holy Rome".

France raises an eyebrow, "Well, you sure look like him, mon ami." He grabs Germany's wrist, and pulls him over to the window, so that Germany can see his reflection.

Germany is getting frustrated, "I have never seen that face before in my life."

Prussia saunters over to the window, and I decide to follow him.

"Okay, I think we need a second opinion from the Awesome Me. Look at me, West."

Germany looks up at his older brother. Prussia looks like he just got punched in the stomach. His eyes widen and his lips part into a surprised "O". "Mein gott! It really is him!"

There's a collective gasp from a few of the other Europeans.

"Hey, who are you guys talking about, even?" America stands up with a confused look on his face.

"The Holy Roman Empire, you moron. Don't you know anything about history from before you were born?" England says patronizingly. Ironic, to say the least, given his current physical age.

Big Brother seems to remember England's existence, now, "Angleterre, what in ze hell were you thinking, throwing ze Chibi Poweder at Allemange? You can be so stupid sometimes!"

England storms over towards him, "I panicked! He was going to take it away from me! And at least I wasn't an idiot for a hundred years!"

"You were just as involved with zat war as I was!"

"Yes, but I was on the right side!"

"You ignorant, impulsive little slave for possession!"

" 'Slave for possession'? Oh, You're no one to talk about that!"

America stands up and calmly says, "Will you two ever stop fighting?"

"No, America, you ignorant git! You should know by now, that we. Will. Not!"

France smirks condescendingly, "Angleterre, I believe you have the wrong person."

"What do you mean, Frog?"

"That iz Canada. It just goes to show how observant you are."

Canada smiles and stands beside France, "Yes, try to remember me from now on."

I smile at Canada, "Good job, Canada! You got them to stop!"

Canada blushes, "Thank you, Italy," he looks down at his feet and quietly adds, "I'm not used to having this much attention."

"Awwww… You're so cute!" I go over to hug him. Surprisingly, he accepts it. Every time I try to hug shy people, like Japan, they freeze up and push me away.

I dash over towards England, and take a pinch of the Chibi Powder from his hands before he can stop me. I put it to my nose and inhale.

"Italy! Vhat are you doing?" Holy Rome asks with growing anger

"I'm gonna be a chibi with you! Maybe it'll help you remember."

I am not prepared for the pain. My bones shrinking, my skin tightening, my limbs retracting… but I don't dare make a sound. I must stay strong.

And I succeed, for once. After the transformation is done, I rush over to Holy Rome and plant a long awaited kiss on his lips. I can't help but smile.

Canada quietly speaks after he is sure he won't interrupt anything. "Italy? Do you want to be my friend?"

I turn away from Holy Rome to look at the now gigantic figure. I see a pinch of the blood red powder in between his fingers. "Of course I do, Canada. Be a chibi, like us!" I jump onto his feet, hugging his shins.

"No! America! Don't be stupid!" England pleads.

Canada's voice is stronger now… more sure of himself, "England… why should I listen to you, when you can't even remember my name?"

France laughs, "I will always remember your name, mon cher."

Canada nods, "I believe you." He inhales the powder, and gasps faintly, before collapsing on the ground. After he is done, he stands between me and France and takes both of our hands.

Hungary squeals, "Awwwwww, you're the cutest chibi ever!"

Canada smiles, "You mean it?"

Hungary nods.

Canada lets go of France's and my hand to grab onto her forearm, since he can't hug her shins when she's sitting down, "You're my friend, too."

England's voice shatters the momentary happiness, "Well, this is very cute and all, but how are we supposed to turn back?"

"Who cares? I like you better this way, Angleterre. You're much more… harmless."

"Oh, shut up."

Translation Notes:

German:

Mein gott: My god

French:

Mon dieu: My god

Mon ami: My friend

Angleterre: England

Allemange: Germany

Mon cher: My dear

Yeah, I'm only using non-English words that I know for sure have the right translation, instead of relying on Google Translate, in case it doesn't translate well. So consequently, France will be the one who speaks in his native language the most, because I speak French fairly well, whereas I only know a few phrases in other languages like German or Spanish.