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A heatwave had swept all across Europe.
Temperatures were reaching record highs. Humidity only made it worse. Those factors, combined with many homes lacking AC, turned the continent into a torture chamber of heat, sweat, and thirst, which no one could escape. Not a single personification was spared from the agony. It was hell.
“Isn’t Scandinavia supposed to be cold?” Denmark whined, waving a hand-held fan at himself. The weather was sweltering, and the air downright suffocating.
“I thought you would be used to it by now,” Norway said boredly, before picking up an ice cube from his glass of water and holding it to his face.
“I don’t live that far south!”
The swede had nothing to say. He simply ignored their banter and focused on trying not to die.
The three countries were extremely unused to temperatures like this. In fact, none of their homes even had air conditioning. Normally it was enough to just open a window. But now, no matter what they did, the calidity was unbearable. Every room felt like it was a sauna, which may have been a dream for Finland, but right now, it was definitely not one for them. Summer wasn’t always like this.
Sweden was lying immobile on the floor with his eyes closed. His face was flushed, and his forehead glistened with sweat, which he wiped away with the back of his hand, before resuming his previous position.
“Dear Odin…” he mumbled.
The silence resumed.
Meanwhile somewhere in Britain…
England sat on the floor, leaning his head back on the couch where France rested, looking half-dead. An electrical fan was positioned to blow air on both of them, and it was nice, however, it only lasted when they were in that exact spot.
“Angleterre…”
He turned his head to the side. “What.”
“Can’t you turn off the sun?” France complained.
England sighed and turned his head forwards again. His hair stuck to his skin. “Now why the bloody hell would I be able to do that?” His voice was almost quiet, though clearly laced with annoyance.
Then, a knock on the door came.
He didn’t get to answer before a smiling Sealand appeared, baking glove on one of his hands, holding a small metal pan with it. He was already visibly sunburnt.
“France! England! Look! I’ve baked a cookie out in the sun!” he exclaimed joyfully.
The two men gazed at him with equal parts curiosity, equal parts horror. Surely it couldn’t be that hot outside, could it?
But then Sealand showcased the pan, and, lo and behold, it contained one lone, yet fully and thoroughly baked cookie. It wasn’t even the tiniest bit raw.
“Good Heavens…” England muttered.
“Mon Dieu.”
Somewhere in Italy…
“Can we skip training today, Germany?”
Rays of sun scorched Japan’s black hair, and tanned Italy’s fair skin. Despite the blazing warmth, everyone had showed up to training that day. But not everyone was equally willing to actually do it.
“No, we can’t! Every day is important!”
“Please!” he said, drawing out the word like a child, and clasping his hands together in a plea.
Germany narrowed his eyes. Unfortunately, he gave into Italy a lot. Today, however, he was determined to stand strong, and not do it!
“Exercise is good for the health, Feliciano. You can survive one session.”
“But it’s so hot out here…”
Someone who had previously been silent, suddenly spoke.
“I agree with Italy. Training in high temperatures has many risks such as heat stroke, dehydration, and cardiovascular strain, all of which are very dangerous.”
Germany knitted his brows and placed a thoughtful hand on his chin. His determination morphed into reflection, as he began wondering if perhaps, they were right. It’s true, there are risks associated with physical movement in warm weather. Although consistency is key to improvement, so it would hinder their progress… Then again, it would be awful if either of them fainted or got hurt. That would impede them much more, than if they simply skipped! And it was only one day, after all. He thought long and hard, before making a decision.
He sighed.
“Alright. Training is cancelled today.”
Japan’s broke out into a small smile, and Italy practically jumped up and down in happiness as they left the training ground.
“Yay! Can we go get gelato now?”
“Don’t push it!” Germany retorted.
They ended up getting gelato anyway.
Somewhere in Switzerland…
Liechtenstein sat in the cooling shade of a tree, absent-mindedly picking grass and flowers or otherwise merely watching the clouds as they slowly passed by in the sky. She tried to ignore the way the fabric of her dress clung to her glistening, sticky skin, but it was difficult, with how uncomfortable it felt. This heat was not treating her well.
Her older brother was, however.
Switzerland, who had been sitting near her, also in the shade, began gently waving a document in her direction, creating a calm breeze which managed to soothe her just a bit. His hairline was damp, his movements ever so slightly more sluggish than usual, and she could see the atmosphere had taken a toll on him too.
It was somewhat peaceful. It would have been completely peaceful, had the weather not been so boiling. But they did what they could, and they tried to make the best of it.
He continued waving, until, upon feeling wind behind himself, he abruptly stopped. The wind should not have been there.
He turned rather quickly, probably to see if it was an intruder, but he was met with a completely different sight instead.
Standing afore him, with a beautifully adorned, glittering fan in his hand, stood Austria, looking at him with an expression of uncertainty, as if he did not know whether he was allowed to do what he just did.
Their eyes met, and for a long moment, that was how they remained. That is, until Switzerland spoke.
“Thank you.” It was barely above a whisper.
Austria’s lips spread into a smile as he sat down to join them.