Authors Note: So, I was doing a lot of research on the foreign relations of a bunch of countries, mainly India after reading so many Prussia and Bollywood fics. So, I learned, India's best ally is Russia (how does the US feel?) and India is also trade partners with North Korea, both countries having an embassy in the other country (again- how does the US feel?).

Summary: It all happened at a summit. Or, the unlikely friendship of India, Russia, and North Korea.

P.S- in my mind, India is kinda like England with some of his behavioral characteristics. North Korea doesn't have an official character, so he's kinda like South Korea with his eccentric personality, but he's also kinda like Romano with a sort of friendly roughness. What should his human name be?

The Summit is being held in New Delhi this time. The Summits are rather. . .erratic. The Nation's bosses have nice schedules on when to meet and what it's about, and on those day's, the Summits are a bit more orderly, for the Nation's personified. But, such as today, the Summit is being held because a majority of over half the nations want a Summit, rather it be out of boredom, to spite someone, to get a come-back, to acknowledge Sealand, or to actually address a topic. And India volunteered to hold the Summit, because it was a voluntary one and he'd have to arrange less food than if he had to hold the real deal.

So India quickly walks around the meeting room in his capitol building, placing aluminum placards with engraved names and a small flag colored on infront of each of the chairs, arranging the tea stand and snack cart in the corner, quickly double-checking with the catering company, and finally leaning against the wall, using the scarf of his kurta (unisex traditional Indian outfit) to wipe the seat off his face and neck. Today, he has a yellow scarf with silver embroidered thread, paired with a cream kurta top with gold designs and white pants with brown shoes. Cloth, of course. He wouldn't want to wear the hide of a poor cow. Oh yeah, cows. He's seeing less of them on the streets since they've been moved. But there's still so much trash, and the stray animals are eating those. How to get rid of the trash? And then his homeless population proble-

"Ah! It looks like I am the first one to come. Kem cho, India?" India jumps at the voice, and then slightly cringes at the accented Gujarati, but he breaks into a grin, exhaustion and worry fading away as he spies his friend Russia, chocolate eyes nearly popping out of his sockets. It's Russia, still with his pink stained scarf, but now dressed in a light blue andsilver embroidered kurta with white pants rather than his long coat and wjatever he has under it, a thumb-wide red powdered oval on his brow.

"Russia!" India beams, taking long steps to take his friends hand in both of his, shaking it. "You've been learning Gujarati?" Russia smiles, eyes sweetly closing.

"Nyet." He says with his- in India's opinion- soothing, childish voice. "I just asked the air-hostess, and I forgot if it was Hindi or not." He suddenly looks worried. "Did I say something different? I think it means 'hello'." India pats the taller man's shoulder.

"'Hello', 'how are you', same thing. I don't just speak Hindi." Russia relaxes. "But I never thought I'd see the day you wear a kurta! You look rater nice in it." Russia blushes, adjusting his scarf. They've known each other for centuries now, and India always takes the chance to make Russia loosen up a bit. He did the same during the cold war, helping his friend out. Although, that did strain his relation with America, the poor child, but after the cold war, America had popped by his house, same as usual, eyes bright while he holds a flyer for the latest Bollywood movie.

"Thank you, India." Says Russia. And then something clicks in India's head. A click so loud, it might of echoed in the still empty conference room.

"Wait. Why are you wearing a kurta?" And then the door bangs open, and for the second time that hour, India's neck hurts from the speed of it turning. There stands a slightly tanned man, with waist length braided black hair, a powdered red oval on his brow like Russia, and sunglasses. He wears a blood red kurta with gold and orange designs with black pants and black slippers. His poise is perfect, and he grins with all white teeth, whipping his shades off and cocking a hip.

"Haha- ahn-nyeong, fools!" He says with a smirk, strutting forward until he's next to Russia, patting the much taller nation on the back. "Ah. So you all copied my look?"

"I am sorry, but kurta's are not made in Korea." Says Russia. North Korea wrinkles his nose.

"Psh. I'm not like my idiot brother. I have brain cells." Then he grins. "Asian trio united!" He says, punching his fist into the air above his head. India bites s lower lip and shakes his head. Russia frowns.

"Russia is part of Europe."

"Ah, but the majority of Russia is in Asia" says North Korea sagely. India tips his head back, rolling his eyes. "What do you think, oh other member of the Asian trio?" India tips his head forward again, smiling.

"Its actually Eurasia, so both of you are right. So, technically, Russia is considered a part of Asia." North Korea grins. "Don't get cocky, North. So why are you dressed in a kurta?" North Korea grins.

"Wanted to get closer to the culture, yah know? Experience this meeting in all of it's...Indian-ness." India sighs.

"You're not even on the guest list."

"Last minute change-of mind." There had to be a reason behind it. Brown eyes meet brown eyes, unblinking, until North Korea groans. "I told Russia I would come if he dress's in a kurta and keeps South away from me." India just blinks.

"You two can be so childish sometime." Russia smiles.

"Da! That is why you should become one with mother Russia!" India's eye twitches for a moment.

"I'm sorry again, my friend, but I must decline." Russia keeps on smiling.

"You can keep Belarus away from me!"

"I'm sorry, no."

"You can marry Belarus!"

". . .no."

"You can have a Bollywood movie about my family!"

"*groan* No." Meanwhile, North has already reached the tea stand, sipping some chai, listening.

"Yo, India. Why haven't you become Communist yet?" India feels like banging his head on the wall. Side effects of having one communist and one formerly communist friend.

"I'm fine with being a democracy. And there's too many people to manage with Communism." Russia nods. He's experienced both sides, and he honestly doesn't know which one is worst and which one is better. He has realized his past flaws of wanting everyone to become Communist, but he still can't shake the habit of asking everyone to become part of Russia.

"I agree with India." North slumps.

"But you used to agree with me!"

"I have matured."

And then the door bangs open before North Korea can reply.

"Hey, India! The hero is here!" And then the trio just stare at the light brown haired young man, who gasps before breaking into a run, briefcase wielded above his head like a weapon. "DON'T WORRY INDIA, I'LL SAVE YOU FROM THOSE COMMI'S!"

"AMERICA, NO! STOP! HEAL!" follows a loudening English voice.

"Kolkolkol." Says Russia, an aura surrounding him and his pipe somehow in his hand.

"Aya." Snorts North Korea, pulling out a water balloon bazooka because getting wet in a humid environment is worst than radiation.

Yup. Looks like the Meeting has begun ahead of schedule.