The Cotswolds countryside stretched endlessly beyond the car window. Sheep dotted the gentle hills, and small stone villages appeared here and there. The June morning sun dyed everything gold. But inside the car, the air was heavy. [sad] "I'm getting kind of hungry…" Italy, in the back seat, murmured softly. Their fingers fidgeted with the hem of their indigo dress. [serious] "You ate bread on the ferry just now." Germany, gripping the steering wheel, furrowed their brow. "But that was a whole hour ago! Getting hungry is a law of nature!" [serious] "That law isn't in any biology textbook." [gentle] "Hehe." Japan, in the passenger seat, let out a small laugh. Their long black braid swayed faintly. [gentle] "Italy-san, you're the same as always. That's a relief, honestly." "Ehehe. Japan's so good at compliments." That's when it happened. The car navigation announced in a mechanical voice: *"You have arrived near your destination."* Germany eased off the accelerator. What appeared before them was a country house, steeped in history, its walls completely covered in ivy. It had to be at least three hundred years old. Every single window was tightly shut with curtains, as if rejecting anyone who might approach. This was England's magical workshop. [serious] "We're here." The car stopped. The three of them stepped outside. The air was crisp and cool. Somewhere, a skylark sang. Germany pounded on the heavy oak front door three times. *Bang. Bang. Bang.* "England, you're in there. Open up." Silence. [whispers] "…So you've come." The voice that came from inside was faint, barely audible. *Creeeak…* The door opened just five centimeters. The England who peered through the gap was their usual self—no, they were a completely different person from the England they knew. A woman's body, with long golden hair tied back, reaching down to their waist. Their emerald green eyes darted around nervously. Shoulders hunched, their whole body seemed to be saying "I'm sorry." [surprised] "Wow." Italy couldn't help but exclaim. [surprised] "England turned into a girl too… Your hair's so pretty." [sad] "Shut up, leave me alone. …Come in. This isn't something to discuss at the door." England's face turned red as they opened the door. The three of them stepped inside. The hallway was dim, filled with the mingled scents of old paper and herbs. On the walls, scorch marks from past magical experiments remained, black and stark. A faint, bitter smell of something burned also lingered. Italy looked around restlessly, then instinctively grabbed the sleeve of Japan's kimono. [scared] "This is… kinda scary." [gentle] "It's alright. Nothing's going to bite you." Japan answered quietly. But their gaze casually flicked toward Germany's back. (*Germany-san is… as composed as ever, I see.*) [serious] "England. Explain the situation. From the beginning." Germany folded their arms. [sad] "…Fine. This way." With heavy steps, England began descending the stairs. A stone staircase leading to the underground workshop. Underground, second level. The archive. Bookshelves lined every wall. Leather-bound grimoires were packed tightly together. The air was cold and still, only the candle flames flickering unsteadily. England took an old, large-format book from a locked shelf in the back. On its leather-bound cover, unfamiliar letters were embossed in gold leaf. [sad] "This is the *Grimoire of Calandria*. A grimoire I discovered in a Scottish castle in the 16th century. It's believed to have been written by a Celtic witch in the 12th century. Thirteen chapters in total. Chapter seven is 'The Art of Transformation.'" They placed the book on the desk. [angry] "And I opened it, just to check chapter seven. I was only going to glance at one page. That's all." [cold] "…That's all?" Germany's voice dropped a notch lower. [sad] "…The moment I opened it, it activated automatically. This curse is a defective spell that affects all 'magically connected beings' within a radius of roughly two thousand kilometers, regardless of the caster's intent." [angry] "Defective!? You had something like that!?" Germany slammed the table. The book vibrated violently. [crying] "Uwaah! G-Germany, calm down!" Italy panicked and clung to Germany's arm. [gentle] "Germany-san. First, let's ask about the method to break the curse. You can be angry after that." Japan quietly stepped between them. [sad] "…To break the curse, we need three ingredients." England averted their eyes and spoke rapidly. "First, the moonlight flower that blooms on the summit of Mount Edelmont. An alpine plant that only blossoms on the night of a full moon. Second, a mermaid's tear stone, sunk at the bottom of Venice's San Marco Canal. It can only be retrieved during the century's great tide, but… by chance, the conditions align this time. And third, water from the fairy spring near Stonehenge, Tirna Fonte." [serious] "What do we do with them?" "Brew them in a silver cauldron, bathe it in the light of the full moon, and chant the counter-spell. If we don't gather everything by tonight's full moon… the curse will be fixed until the next full moon—for twenty-eight days." [surprised] "T-Twenty-eight days!?" Italy's face went pale. [scared] "That means… we'd have to attend the world conference looking like this…!?" [cold] "…Yes." Germany clenched their fist. [serious] "Ten hours left, then. We'll stop this, no matter what." Their profile was so intensely serious that Italy found themselves staring, entranced. (*Germany really is so reliable.*) Japan noticed that gaze. A sharp pang struck deep in their chest. (*…Again.*) [serious] "But there's a problem." Germany looked at England with stern eyes. "Who negotiates for the fairy spring water? You're going, right?" England's face stiffened further. [whispers] "…I can't. Not anymore." [cold] "What do you mean?" [sad] "In a magical experiment three years ago, I… sort of… burned a part of the fairy forest to a crisp. At that time, the fairy queen Rhiannon forbade me from ever approaching again. I'm banned." A profound silence fell. [angry] "So, you can't do anything?" Germany's voice turned ice-cold. [sad] "…This time, that's right. Someone else has to negotiate." England hung their head. A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by the flickering candle flames. Unable to bear the atmosphere, Italy burst out. [excited] "I-It's okay!" Italy grasped England's hands tightly in both of theirs. [excited] "Let's all think about this together! I might be able to help with something too! Right, Germany?" Germany's brow twitched slightly. A single new wrinkle formed between their eyebrows. (*…Why? Just now, I felt a little… angry.*) Italy, smiling at someone else like that. Just that, and yet— (*No, that's wrong. This isn't anger.*) Confused, even Germany couldn't understand their own feelings. [sarcastic] "…Do whatever you want." Germany averted their gaze. Beside them, Japan quietly watched the two of them. That's when it happened. *Whoooosh…* Suddenly, the archive window opened on its own. The morning light streamed in. And then— [laughing] "Well, hello everyone. Good morning." Resting a hand on the windowsill from the garden, a beautiful young man leaped lightly into the room. Their shoulder-length platinum blonde hair sparkled, and their deep blue eyes glinted mischievously. In their hand, the usual rose. It was France. [laughing] "Cleaning up England's messes, as always, I see." [angry] "Why do you come in through the window!? How many times do I have to tell you to use the door, you idiot!" England turned bright red and shouted. "A window is far more picturesque than a door, no? Like this, with the morning sun at my back, a beautiful young man leaping in gracefully. It's like a painting." [angry] "Whether it's picturesque or not doesn't matter right now!" The tense atmosphere was instantly thrown into chaos. France immediately, shrewdly, checked the positions of Germany and Italy. Confirming that Italy was still clinging to Germany's arm, they twisted their mouth into a smirk. [sarcastic] "Oh? Germany and Italy seem awfully close. Did something happen on this trip?" [angry] "N-Nothing happened! Don't say unnecessary things!" Germany stepped back. But Italy answered innocently. "Ehehe, Germany helped me out a ton!" [whispers] "Y-You idiot. Don't say that." Germany's face visibly reddened. Japan watched the scene intently, quietly pushing something down inside their heart. (*I was helped by Germany-san too.*) Thinking that made them feel, somehow, very small. [laughing] "Now then, let's have a strategy meeting." France snapped their fingers. "We'll gather the three ingredients simultaneously, each with a separate team. Otherwise, we won't make it by tonight's full moon. Any objections?" [serious] "…No. That's logical." "Um, um!" Italy raised their hand, bouncing up and down. "The mermaid's tear stone is at the bottom of the Venice canal! It's my hometown, so I definitely know where to look!" [serious] "Then Italy and Romano are in charge of Venice." "Hold on." France interjected, deliberately. [sarcastic] "Germany, wouldn't it be better if you went with Italy? Just the two of you. Venice is a romantic city, gliding down the canals in a gondola… Isn't it the perfect situation for love to blossom?" [angry] "W-What are you saying!? Collecting the moonlight flower requires mountaineering knowledge and physical strength. I'm obviously joining the Alps team!" [sarcastic] "Is that so? Too bad, Italy." "Huh? What's too bad?" Italy tilted their head. [angry] "France, that's enough!" A vein bulged on Germany's forehead. Japan watched the three of them interact, like watching a kite sway in the wind, just quietly observing. (*The day I can stand by his side…*) The final team assignments were decided. The Alps team: Germany, France, and Austria. In charge of the moonlight flower. The Venice team: Italy, Japan, and Romano. In charge of the tear stone. And England—alone—would seek a way to negotiate at the fairy spring. [sad] "W-Well, it's my mess, after all. I'll manage somehow. I'm banned, but I'll find a loophole." It was time to depart. Italy stood before Germany. Their large amber eyes gazed up at Germany intently. [gentle] "Germany." [serious] "What?" "When you get back from the mountain, I'll make pasta. So you absolutely have to come back." Germany hesitated, at a slight loss for words. "…Yeah." They said only that, and averted their gaze. France watched this, smiling with satisfaction. Japan, while packing their things, quietly glanced sideways at the two of them. And so, each team set into motion. Time remaining: a mere ten hours. Could they gather all the ingredients by tonight's full moon—? No one yet knew the answer.