*This chapter is in Ivan's point of view when he is seventeen years old*

I suppose my memories start from when I first woke up. I remember feeling very tired, but a combination of being surrounded by bright white lights and the searing pain in my head and throat made sleeping again impossible. I tried to move, only to discover that my limbs felt like dead weights at my sides. The light was making my headache unbearable, so I closed my eyes in search of relief, but was rewarded with even more pain. It was agony. I couldn't think clearly, even when I heard people bustle next to me. I tried to focus when one of them spoke…

"Shit, shit! He's not supposed to be awake yet! What do we do?" Another voice followed:

"Pass me the sedative!" it said, tone urgent. I felt a pinprick in my arm, but the slight pain there was nothing in comparison to the state of my head and throat.

My muscles began to relax as the sedative took effect, but I still struggled to listen to the conversation going on over my head.

"How do you think this will affect the outcome?"

"I… I don't know. He'll probably be messed up somehow. I think this one was a failure. Put him up for a cheaper price when he wakes up, and warn the others that he might be dangerous."

"Y-yes sir…"

'What? I was… messed up?' I thought. 'Am I broken? What went wrong? Did he say something about others? What others? Others like me, I wonder?' My consciousness slowly started slipping away. I was being dragged into a comfortable darkness, and my thoughts became more and more jumbled until the only thing I was thinking was replaying over and over, like a mantra.

'What am I?'

The next time I awoke I was in a different room. My head didn't hurt anymore, and neither did my throat. The fact that I wasn't dizzy when I opened my eyes was an added bonus. Actually, I felt better than I had in a while. Was I ever in that white room, or was that just a dream? I couldn't decide… it had been so realistic.

Unlike the white room, this one was more reasonably lit by a fixture on the ceiling that seemed to double as a fan… either way, my eyes had no trouble adjusting. The walls were a calming shade of light blue, and there was a window interrupting the wall in front of me, giving me a view of a flower garden. This room was truly the opposite of the other.

"Oh, you're awake!" an unfamiliar voice said. I turned my attention to my left and was met with a kind-faced blond man with wire rim glasses. His eyes were a pretty violet color and currently smiled at me. He looked down at the clipboard he was holding. "You are in the HVL, also known as the Hetalian Voice Laboratories. I am Doctor Williams. You have just returned from a very important surgery, so I'm going to have to perform some tests on you, eh? Please stay still."

I did as the soft-spoken doctor said and became still like a statue while he felt around my throat and chest with his hands. While he did this, he asked questions every once and a while, like "Do you feel any stiffness in this area?" or "Does it hurt when I press here?" I answered no to these questions, because really, I felt great. Next, he took out a stethoscope and pressed it to different places on my upper back and chest while asking me to take deep breaths. Once again, I did as the doctor said. Seeming satisfied with my condition, he scribbled down some stuff on his clipboard while humming a soothing yet sad tune that I didn't recognize. Once I heard all the notes, I started to hum along while gazing out the window.

After a few minutes, I noticed that Doctor Williams had stopped humming and by this point I was making up my own tune. I blushed in embarrassment when I realized I was the only one humming and immediately stopped. The doctor just smiled at me sweetly and motioned for me to continue. "You know, you could think of words to go with the notes, and make a song! Wouldn't that be nice?" Doctor Williams suggested. I shrugged and nodded. I absently started humming again, this time trying to think of words to go with it. I was so distracted that I didn't notice at first when another man entered the room.

"Hey, Mattie! How's the patient doing?" I jolted at the sudden outburst that came from the door. I whipped my head around to see who had just entered, and saw a very pale, white-haired man with red eyes stride in. He had an intimidating air, but the scrubs patterned with cute yellow chicks he wore greatly took away from that intimidation. He slung an arm around Doctor Williams's shoulders and gave me a weird lopsided smirk. "Hey there, little guy! I'm Matthew's boyfrie—" Matthew shot a deadly glare at the nurse, who actually cringed a bit. "E-er… I mean, I'm Nurse Beilschmidt, Doctor Williams' assistant. But nurse sounds sissy, so you will address me as the Awesome Gilbert Beil—OOF! Mattie! What was that for?" Doctor Williams had elbowed Gilbert sharply in the side, who was trying to straighten up after the blow. "Fine… Just call me Gilbert and him Matthew…"

I simply stared at the two, trying to make sense of the exchange. Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation and sighed. "I apologize for my colleague's behavior. He can be a bit… eccentric at times."

"Aw, but that's why you love me, right?" Gilbert said, chuckling. Matthew blushed and looked away, but didn't deny what the white-haired man had said. He stammered the next time he spoke.

"A-anyway, we need to introduce you to the others now that you've recovered. They've been waiting for you for a while now." He helped me up out of the comfortable bed I had been lying in, out the door, and into the hallway. The hallway was short and the carpet was soft against my bare feet. I looked back at the door I had just come from and at the plastic nameplate set in the middle.

-RUSSIA-

I looked at some of the other doors and noticed they all had nameplates with countries on them as well. That was… interesting. I was about to ask why when we reached the end of the short hall and came into a large room with a few plush chairs and couches that people were sitting in. Everybody appeared to be my age, some even younger when I saw a pair of twins that appeared to be around fifteen years old sitting on a couch bickering about something. There were seven people chattering in the room if you didn't include me and the doctor. Matthew raised his hand and asked for everybody's attention, but he was mostly ignored. He sighed in frustration. That wasn't nice of everybody to just ignore somebody like that! I stepped forward and cleared my throat.

"Excuse me, everybody, I think it would be best for you all to pay attention to what Doctor Williams has to say, да?" I spoke over the crowd, trying to be as polite as possible. The room went dead silent, and everybody slowly turned to me. They all had similar expressions of surprise and fear. Wait, fear? Why were they afraid? I made a confused face, and stepped back behind the doctor shyly. I suddenly realized that being in a room full of strangers was a bit scary. I didn't know anybody, and I had no idea what they would think of me! I tried to smile at them, but I don't think it worked.

"Everybody, this is Russia. He is new here at HVL, so please be nice to him and treat him well!" Matthew said softly, but the room was silent so we could all hear him. I waved, letting them know it was me he was referring to. The twins on the couch hugged each other and looked to be near tears. My smile fell with my waving arm. I didn't want to be scary to anybody! Doctor Williams left then, leaving me to try and make friends by myself. I took a timid step into the room and tried introducing myself this time.

"Um… Hello! My name is Russia, apparently. I hope to make friends with all of you! May I please know all of your names?" The tension in the room seemed to relax, but only a little. To my surprise, one of the twins was the first to speak.

"H-hello, Russia. Um… I like friends! My name is Italy. This is my older twin brother, Romano!" he said, picking up and waving his brother's hand for him. This seemed to only irritate the older boy, as he yanked his arm back, glowering.

"Che! Bastard, I can introduce myself, you know!" Almost at once, the entire room chorused:

"Language, Romano!" I giggled at the obviously rehearsed line. This was an odd bunch, that was for sure. The mood seemed to greatly lighten after that, and introductions continued.

"Ahem… I am Germany…" a boy with slicked back blond hair and very blue eyes said uncomfortably.

"I'm America, and I'm a hero!" another blond my age said. Actually, he looked quite similar to Doctor Williams, just younger with slightly different hair.

"Would you shut up about that already, you git!" another boy said, this one with large, dark eyebrows and sandy blond hair. "Oh, excuse me. I am England. I'm sorry, I'm really one of the only true gentlemen here. I hope you bear with everyone else's antics in your stay here." I nodded at his apology, though I didn't really mind how everybody was lightly bantering like this.

An expressionless blond boy in glasses stood up just then holding the hand of a much shorter boy who was also blond. 'There are a lot of blond people here…' I noted. Everybody gave him their immediate undivided attention.

"M' name's Sweden. An' this's m' wife, Finland." he said gesturing to the boy whose hand he held. Finland blushed furiously at the taller blond's declaration.

"Sve! Don't be so blunt!" Finland cried. Sweden just looked down at him, confused (or at least as confused as an expressionless person could look). I giggled again, getting used to the sound. It felt nice to laugh. Soon the remaining tension dissipated and everybody was joining in the laughter at Finland's expense, including Finland himself.

"Russia! Don't just stand there! Come and sit with us!" America said, motioning to a chair in the room. I smiled and sat where he pointed, which was a chair between him and England. "So, what's your voice like?" the loud boy asked.

The question took me off guard. My voice? Hadn't I already been speaking? "I'm sorry, what do you mean? I'm talking right now; this is what my voice is like, да?" America shook his head wildly.

"No! I mean your singing voice! What does it sound like when you sing? Like, I have really high range (Roderich says I'm a tenor), while Germany over there has a really deep voice. He's a bass." Germany blushed in embarrassment when he was mentioned. "So sing for us! What's your voice like?"

I hesitated at his strange request. "Why do you want to know? Does it even matter?" He just stopped and stared blankly at me.

"What?! Of course it matters! That's why we're here! That's why they gave you that surgery!" England shot. "Have they not told you anything?"

"No. Nothing." They all just kept staring at me in a peculiar way. "It is important? What they haven't told me?" Sweden answered me this time.

"Yeah. Our purpose here 's to sing fer th' people that come here. Some day we'll b' sold to someone rich that likes our singin'." He looked a kind of disappointed and clutched onto Finland's hand a bit tighter. "Some day we'll b' separat'd…" Finland gazed up at Sweden sadly.

"I think we had better leave. Come on, Sve." Sweden gave a shaky nod and followed Finland past me into the hallway where they entered a door that I assumed was theirs. Once they were gone I turned back to the group who were all looking away from me.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset anyone…" I apologized.

"No, I was the one who brought it up. I should be saying sorry." America interjected. "A hero isn't supposed to make anybody feel bad." He paused. "So now getting back to the subject… you don't have to sing right now if you don't want to. It was just a suggesti—"

"No, I'll sing," I said before he could finish. A sad America just didn't seem to fit. But then I realized that I didn't know what to sing! "But… I don't know any songs…" I admitted sheepishly.

"What about that one you were humming in your room?" Romano spoke up, then blushed when everybody stared at him. "N-not like I was listening or anything, bastards…" Italy's face lit up.

"Oh, see you do know a song!" There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room. I raised my hands in surrender.

"I suppose… but it doesn't have any words yet…" Italy looked a bit disappointed, but perked up immediately.

"That's okay! You can still sing! Just do a few scales!" I tilted my head to the side, confused.

"A… scale? That has to do with singing?" Italy nodded an affirmation enthusiastically.

"Yup! Germany can demonstrate, can't you Germany? Your voice is so nice!" The mentioned blond blushed and averted his gaze at the compliment.

"W-well, I guess I could…" He stood up and cleared his throat before he started the scale.

"Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do."

The notes started out very low, but got higher at each interval. 'So that's all it is? I could do that!'

Italy was clapping happily and bound over to Germany to latch onto his arm, much to the chagrin of Romano. "Yay, Germany that was wonderful! See, Russia? Just like that. Now you try!" My lips twitched in a nervous smile, and I took a deep breath before trying the note Germany had started out on. I grimaced. It felt much too low and made me sound all gravelly. I adjusted the pitch and tried again. It felt more comfortable this time.

"Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do." I finished the scale as Germany had, and looked at Italy expectantly. "Well?" He flashed a smile and gave me a thumbs up.

"That was beautiful, Russia!" I scanned the room and saw others agreeing with him. "Now can you go any higher?"

I repeated the scale two more times until I was straining my voice so much all that would come out was a high-pitched whine. I panted and flushed at the effort it took. "I think that's as high as I can go, да?" I said, embarrassed that they had heard my voice crack like that.

I heard clapping from behind me and I spun around to see a fancily dressed man with dark hair and glasses come in with Matthew and Gilbert. He walked forward and stuck his hand out for me to shake, so I did.

"Hello there, Russia. I came as soon as I heard you recovered. I am Roderich Edelstein, the instructor at this establishment. I see you have met the other residents," he said, inclining his head at my new friends before suddenly stopping in surprise. "Oh? Where have Finland and Sweden gone? I thought it was made clear for everybody to meet you in the Common Room…"

"No, I've met them! It's just, I brought up a touchy subject I think and they went to their room." Roderich quirked an eyebrow.

"Did it have to do with separation?"

"Yes."

Roderich seemed to understand then. "Ah, that would do it. Well! As wonderful as it is talking with you, it's time for dinner. Now, if you will please follow me I will show you the Dining Hall."

I exchanged a look with the rest of the group who immediately got up to trail behind as well.

The Dining Hall actually turned out to be a classy cafeteria of sorts. There were a few rather large oak tables where people I assumed to be staff of the facility already sat eating their meals. One table was left untouched, however, and I figured that to be the residents'. There was a window where I saw a man with long wavy hair topped by a chef's hat handing food to the people in front of us in line. When I arrived at the window to receive food (at the mention of food before I realized just how starving I was), the man greeted me with a very stereotypical French laugh.

"Oh, and what do we have here? You are the new voice, non? Mon cher, you are quite cute! My name is Francis Bonnefoy, the lovely chef and interior designer! Tell me; how are you liking it here so far? Is it not beautiful, like moi?"

Not knowing how to respond to the strange man's inquiries, I just made a point of being grateful for the food. The (French?)man seemed satisfied with the abrupt topic change and handed me the meal on a plastic tray which consisted of ham, mashed potatoes and corn. I quickly walked away from Francis who winked at me in a suggestive way. I shuddered at the thought of staying in the same building as that pervert before I finally sat down at the empty table.

"Bloody frog! Will you stop it with that stupid flirting you do with everybody?" England's voice came from across the room at the food window where he was waiting in line with America. Said bespectacled boy appeared to be a bit worried for his friend; that is, if you could ever get past the amused smirk on his face. England's outburst grabbed the attention of the twins and Germany, but everyone else in the Dining Hall didn't seem to pay any mind to it, almost as if it were a usual occurrence.

"Come now, mon cher England, you know it is in my nature to flirt with the cuties, non? Just like you. But…" At this, Francis leaned in to whisper something into England's ear that made him blush and discreetly look behind him to a very confused America. Glowering, he snatched his food from the window counter and snapped an insult weakened significantly by the stutter that he had very recently acquired.

Hmm… That was interesting. I briefly wondered if America had noticed that…

Soon everybody was sitting down to eat, chatting idly about the events of the day. Somewhere along the way, the conversation drifted to room assignments.

"So! Now that Russia is here, will he be sharing with Germany?" America asked through a mouthful of food. Germany, who hadn't been very engaged in the topic before, looked up from his potatoes at the mention of his name.

"Ve~, wouldn't that be great, Germany? You'll finally get a roommate!"

"Hm? Uh… Yes, yes. I'm fine with rooming with you Russia—"

"You won't be rooming with him, you potato bastard. Nobody is." Romano grumbled from beside Italy. It seemed that I was the only one that noticed him speaking besides Germany (as he was the one that was cut off) and even he simply went back to eating.

Romano was silent for the rest of dinner.

I learned that there was a two-hour free time period after dinner, so I spent mine wandering the halls trying to find the door that led to the garden I could see from my window. Eventually I found it and went outside for the first time since… well, I couldn't remember. Had anything happened before I wound up here? I felt like maybe I should be worried about not remembering my life leading up to today. Oh well. If it was anything important, I wouldn't have forgotten, would I? Maybe something bad had happened and forgetting it was preferable.

With that logic set in place, I continued to wander the garden. It was small and enclosed by the building, but still bursting with color at every turn I took on the little pebble path. The flowers were so beautiful… my favorites were definitely the large yellow ones that towered inches above my head. I reached out to pick one when I heard a loud, sorrowful cry from an open window. Curiosity piqued, I sneaked quietly to the window and looked inside to see…

Romano crying?

A/N: I've decided to try and rewrite/edit this story. Some aspects have changed, but nothing too major, in my opinion. I've changed Russia's age to 17, because it seems just a bit more realistic to me that way.