There was an incident a few years back when the international meetings were still young; countries were trying to bond, and well… Forget it. The countries were always at each other's throats. Always making fun of one's culture and people. Needless to say, nations were a very volatile species.
Take for instance the flaxen haired nation over there. You know, the one with the maid outfit, cold violet eyes, and purple aura. Guess what, she ain't cute. Call her that, or insinuate that opinion of nature and she'll-
"LITHUANIA! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH MY HAIR!" Towering over the shaking brunette haired nation, his emerald eyes peeked from behind his interlocked hands as he watched his love fearfully.
"M-miss Belarus! I just thought that-that a lilac would suit your hair," the Baltic stammered. "I-I thought you would look cute-"
"ONLY VANYA IS ALLOWED TO CALL ME THAT!" With an inhuman roar, she pushed back her long sleeves to reveal a deadly array of knives just ready to be used. As she was about to dismember the poor Lithuanian once and for all, she felt a cold hand clasp down hard on her shoulder.
Turning around, as if to see whoever dared interrupt in her torture, she came face to face with none other than the Nordics.
"What do you want?" True, she may have cooled down to the northern man's freezing temperature, but she was just as cold as well. Annoyance and a threat could be distinguished from the girl's demeanor as she raised her arms in a defensive position.
"Pleasure, Miss Belarus," Norway coldly began. He gestured to the rest of the supernatural congregation gathered as one frightened entity. Training his cold, icy blue eyes on her violet ones, he continued to speak in a soothing, but boring manner of his. "I feel I speak for the rest of the world when I say," and his eyes flashed dangerously," to commit your foul deeds outside."
"S-she didn't-"
"Is that so," she snarled. Glaring at the nations whimpering behind the Nordic, she felt overruled, but empowered. Ignoring the Baltic nation because of her new and powerful prey, her complete attention as on the Norwegian.
Shrugging away the icy grip he held over her fragile shoulder, she pulled out one of her knives at an astonishing speed. In a reflexive motion, she brought the tip of her knife near the man's jugular, anticipating the unexpected. However, Norway was skilled in combat and comfortable that he had his family there in case Belarus or the rest of her family tried anything funny. Naturally, he kept his cool poker face on as the Slav glared up at him.
"Don't cross me again," she muttered. It wasn't worth getting your butt kicked by a hundred people if one pathetic nation couldn't defend himself. Flinging her dagger carelessly, it happened to land in the direction of the Southeastern nations, pinning Philippines to the wall by the collar of her white shirt.
Glancing once more at the Scandinavian, she sneered. "As if I care what you think."
Complying with the request, she left the room; she could skin Lithuania another time if needed.
That debacle she had hoped would be the last they would interact.
As she sashayed out of the room with her freezing dignity intact, she failed to realize that one particular nation looking after her retreating form in fascination.
Belarus hated butterflies.
The way they would flit about unscathed in the wide open expanses in the air…
The glittering scales of the feathery light wings…
It disgusted her.
How could you go through life without worries? Didn't it realize that death would one day claim the poor creature's soul?
…If it had a soul anyways.
No, she thinks, as she idly sits on a park bench, they wouldn't understand the complexity of nations. Smiling sadistically, she gave a predatory growl when she spotted one of Japan's butterflies land on a flower. Expertly, she drew back and launched a small knife at the dark blue wings of the swallowtail. Contentedly, she sighed in happiness when she comprehended the fact that the sheer velocity of the butterfly's wings was now pinned to the bark of a tree nearest to the scene of the crime. Perhaps she could bestow this gift of showmanship to Russia? No, she should let it die first.
If they were allowed to be happy like that, they wouldn't. Not when she had not married her dear precious Ivan just yet.
In fact, as she observed the insect struggle vainly to be set free of the entrapment, she might as well grant the butterfly a few more moments of life. Besides, it was pathetic enough to receive her pity, so why not?
Behind the fair-haired woman, twigs and whatnot could be heard crackling ominously. Thinking that perhaps it was a lowly human, she ignored the trespasser. As the minutes idled on, and the breakage of the twigs increased, Natalya knew she had no choice, but to face the being—human or not—head on.
Without turning around, she began," If you value your life, you will quit that unearthly racket and go back to where you come from!" With a gloomy look upon her face, she pledged to the struggling pest that she would come back.
"Funny, Miss Belarus. Twigs come from the trees and trees are one with the earth. Therefore, I have a right to make a racket." Said in a usual monotone, his face betrayed no emotion, a fact that the Belarusian became irritated by.
Drawing herself to her full height, she found that if the two were a little closer, he would have only a few inches on her. Sneering cruelly, she prepared for her verbal volley.
"So what? I can care less about the dead sticks! They're useless! You are the one who is unearthly! So why not make yourself scarce before I'll have your head!" Hands crossed defiantly on her chest, the young woman was the very picture of petulance and beauty. Her mood was to be ignited even brighter because of the pale man's somewhat jovial expression.
"Unearthly you say? Last time I checked, a nation comprised of its people, culture, and of the land. Indeed the last thing we are," as he smirked slyly," is far from unearthly."
Previously, the countries were only within a ten-foot distance, but the Nordic had other ideas. He walked three paces closer to the female while she stood her ground. Instead of bolting and finally ending the butterfly's life, the Slav was intrigued by the male's actions.
They were alone, in a park where the humans moseyed about, fulfilling their urge to live and survive in the treacherous world. The duo might have been in a secluded part of one of Japan's parks, but of they weren't careful, they could be caught. It was a different place, a place where anything could happen if she wasn't careful and kept her guard up.
Belarus hadn't meant to show weakness, but she shivered lightly when a relatively small breeze brushed through her hair, causing a few sakura flowers to glide gently to the ground, some in her hair. Sensing how private and intimate this moment she was sharing with Norway, she struggled to will her body to move.
Why wasn't she moving?
A scowl could be seen darkening the porcelain of her soft face as she tried to burn a hole through the Norwegian. Instead, he lazily stared back at her, probably enjoying the look of discomfort she was clearly showing.
She didn't like the situation she was in and she didn't like the person who stood less than a few paces from her person. What use would he gain if he provoked her now? Even she wasn't that reckless as to start a fight on a territory that was clearly not hers. Even if Japan considered himself neutral, he was fiercely possessive over his land and culture, so if they started fighting… Belarus did not want to land herself in hot water if she managed to aggravate the passive nation into declaring war on her.
Pfft… She could deal with the twerp and his so called 'samurai' any time. Especially if she had Russia by her side to quell the island nation.
It was as if a spell was broken, the dam broke down, or the clouds were bursting forth with precipitation. She was free. She could move away from this freak of nature and get on with her life. It was bad enough that the Lithuanian was stalking her, but she did not want one of the North after her affections too!
Thinking back on it, what was she doing here? She should be back with her dear Vanya! He must be out alone in Tokyo, looking for his lost love!
Bidding farewell to the butterfly—it was barely hanging onto life—Belarus gathered up her lone knife and walked past the Norwegian. She made sure, as she made her way by, to cause a tear through his expensive clothing.
"So you kill butterflies in your spare time?" Without her noticing, contrary to his earlier appearance, he managed to keep up with her brisk pace making no audible noise. All in all, the fair haired maiden was fairly surprised and angered when she witnessed the new development.
"What do you want? I thought you had a troll in servitude," she coldly snapped. Obviously, if ignoring and walking away did not solve the problem, she was going to force him into submission.
"I would appreciate it if you didn't discuss my magical creatures in my current state of mind."
"As if! Magic, that's a riot. I have seen how pathetic England looked when he tried to demonstrate his 'magic!'" Pausing from her breakneck pace, she turned and looked at the man, her voice coming back to a calculating mutter. "What about your state of mind?"
It wasn't as if Belarus could care any less about Norway's 'state of mind' it was just the way he said it, is all. Countries were known to have physical aches and pains depending on human, natural, or in some cases, magical disturbances. However, from what Natalya deduced from previous World Meetings Norway seemed to be all right in all departments.
She frowned. Maybe it was a magical disease that plagued the Nordic. What if it was contagious? Did he come in contact with Ivan? That's it she was going to force him and other sickly nations into quarantine!
With that thought in mind, she whirled to face the Nordic, knives ready to stab. What she did not count on was the distance between the two was virtually…nonexistent. So now, the blonde haired couple—
"Ever heard of personal space, Cretan?" Boy, if he kept up this charade, she was going to castrate him! Regardless of what the Jappie said.
"You have no idea, do you?" Norway breathed as he seemingly towered over the trembling woman. "You seem to have a knack at things that I deem quite…useless."
Stepping back forcefully, the Slavic nation glared at the advancing figure. What did he want? What did he mean by that statement?
Reviving the little snark she had left in her, Belarus snapped," What are you insinuating? That I'm a pathetic nation!?" Raising a fist to emphasize her growing anger she continued," I can take care of myself, thank you very much! If you want to declare war on me, spit it out already!"
Eyes flashing with murderous intent, she threw all caution to the wind and lunged.
Time seemed to slow as he knife made a wide arc, aiming for… What was she aiming for? In her rage, the hands that wielded her precious knives seemed to be moving of their own volition. During the knives' wide curve, Norway was moving swiftly to dodge the hazardous blade. He evaded it, but…
"Hairstyles are hard to come by these days." Said in his usual emotionless voice, the female personification could barely detect bemusement and sorrow. Fingering the fallen hair ornament, he picked it up from the ground and looked back at his sparring companion.
Having seen that she missed a few painfully obvious vital organs, and only succeeded in ruining his hair by a smidge, she stood in a tart position. Breathing shallowly, the light blonde warily surveyed the older man. Now what?
Surprisingly, Norway chuckled as his hoarfrost sapphire eyes met her treacherous lavender. Moving faster than she could blink, she found herself in the embrace of her fellow nation. Keeping her defiant position, she was taken off guard when she felt her customary hair ribbon fall off from the crown of her head.
"Wha—?"
"Seeing that you're finally acting calm, I'll explain. I can't get you out of my head." His sapphire eyes bore into the depths of her soul. "There must be something disturbing in my mental health to actually have you twenty-four seven."
Lips twitching into a half grin, Belarus finally saw a small smile flicker to life on his face.
"If you wanted my barrette that much, you could have asked."
"B-but—"
"Too cute? It just makes you even more appealing."
"Its—"
"Just right on you."
"How many times do I have to tell you people? STOP MESSING WITH MY HAIR!"
"…are you rejecting me?"
You know what's funny? My OTP is actually Lithuania/Belarus, but I pair her more often with Norway. Isn't that sad? I can't find any good plots for the two...
Anyways, read and review!