England's POV

I was walking back home from a world meeting when I heard quiet mewing. I was confused at the sound but followed it. When I located the source of the mewing, I was shocked; a kitten in a box, mewing like their life depended on it. I looked at the box and saw there was a label stuck to it, "Free kittens?" I muttered to myself, "Who would leave young kittens out on the street?" I reached inside the box and picked up the kitten, "Hello, there." I brought the kitten closer to me and it snuggled up against my chest, purring contentedly. I smiled, I wish America was still like this. I snapped from my thoughts and walked to the nearest vet, knowing that they'd be able to tell if there was anything wrong with the kitten. It looked like it was only a couple weeks old and it was shaking.

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"You did a good thing, bring her here. If someone else had found her, then I dread to think what might have happened."

"Well, I didn't want to leave her out in the cold all alone and I thought that bringing her to the vet was the best thing to do."

"I'll just give her an x-ray and see if she has a chip, if she does, we'll ring up the owner and return her."

"That's a good thing. She'll have a home at least!"

The vet took the little kitten away and I sat down in the waiting room while they did an x-ray on the kitten.

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A few minutes later, the vet returned, a sad look on their face. I asked what was wrong and they replied, "There's no chip so, there's no way of telling who her owner is."

"Aw, that's a shame. What'll happen to her?"

"Well usually we'd take her to the cat shelter but they're full. That's probably why she was left in that box you mentioned."

"That's terrible. You know what, I'll look after her. Someone has to, she can't be left on the streets, she'll die if that happens."

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A few months later, everyone was over at my house due to America and his antics.

"Yo, Dude! When do we get real food?!"

"For your opinion, my food is perfectly fine, Bloody Wanker!" I shouted back at him.

"He's right, mon ami. Your food is terrible."

"Fine! I'll see if (Y/n) will eat it," I walked over to the cat that I'd taken in a few months ago and put the plate down in front of her. She sniffed it cautiously before proceeding to eat it. At least someone has good taste. I turned back to the frog and America, "Well? What do you say now?" I then felt tapping on my leg and I looked down to see (Y/n) pawing at me, "What is it, Love?" I asked bending down to her level. She turned around and walked off. I followed her and she stopped by the plate I had yet to pick up. She pushed the plate towards me.

"You want more of his food?!"

(Y/n) looked up from the plate and hissed at France before turning back to me and pushing the plate closer. I picked it up before walking into the kitchen, (Y/n) following close behind. I put more food on the plate and placed it on the ground. (Y/n) immediately ate it and it was gone in the span of two minutes. She then walked over to her normal food bowl and then pointed at the plate.

"What are you trying to say, (Y/n)?"

She made a motion like rolling her eyes and jumped up on the countertop. Walking over to where I kept my recipe books, she pawed at the one I had left open as if she was trying to close it. I chuckled and closed the book for her. She the batted a paw at the cover and I looked where it was, "Oh," I said out loud, "That's worse than having bad cooking."

"What is it?!"

I picked up the recipe book and showed it to everyone.

"You were feeding us cat food dishes?! How did you not realise?!"

"I don't know, but at least I know why (Y/n) liked it so much," I replied stroking said cat on the head, making her purr.

"Well, it seems a cat is smarter than you, Angleterre!"

This comment changed (Y/n)'s mood drastically. She went from purring at having her head stroked to growing and hissing. She started at France's retreating body and got ready to pounce.

"Oww!"

I chuckled before following everyone out to see France with (Y/n) pawing at him. She's dug her claws into his clothes and was now climbing up his back and settling on his head, "Angleterre! Get this cat off of me!"

"What, are you scared she'll ruin your hair?"

"Shut up! Black Sheep of Euro-Oww! Bad chat! Don't hit me!" I chuckled at the sight, "I don't know whether this is better or worse than the girl scout troop on holiday!"