A/N: Well, as you all can see, I've been in the writing mood, lately xD

Again, another drabble fic… well, kinda. This one actually has some sort of plot.

It's about Lithuania and Czechoslovakia. Where we (they) discuss love, politics, invasions, music, and everything in between.

Unlike many writers/artists for Hetalia, for this fic I actually used Himaruya's model for Czechoslovakia, with Czech as a young girl and Slovakia as an older man. C'mon, you guys—I can't be the only one who hopes that he'll use these two when he finally officially releases a character for Czechoslovakia! We have enough cute, young guys on this show… it would be great to see the characters vary more.

With that said. Maybe a lot of folks don't like this model cause they see the all-too-probable Slovakia/Czech pairing, which I do not have in this fic. No. Just… no. That would be wrong on so many levels. Slovakia is not a pedo, and as long as I write him, he shall never be a pedo. His relationship with Czech is different from that, or at least the way I portrayed it.

Anyway. On with the story!

Disclaimer: It's kinda sad that the only thing I own is the plot.

Czech wandered through the vast halls of the Soviet Union, all long and endless, the ceilings made ridiculously high to accommodate their masters' height. She felt so small, much smaller than she usually did. The walls, which were finely decorated with Russian and Ukrainian and Belarusian and Lithuanian art, seemed to be caving in on her, as if the paintings and sculptors themselves were giants ready to pounce on her should she make the wrong move or say the wrong thing. As Czech realized the cruel symbolism in this, her eyes welled up with tears, and she wondered if it would ever end.

As frightened as she was, however, her feet kept moving, marching on as her soldiers would. In her curiosity, she would often peek into rooms that had open doors, inviting her to take a look. This is how she found the one thing in the entire Soviet Union that held any sort of familiarity whatsoever.

A piano. Czech nearly jumped for joy when she saw it.

She ran into the room, quickly enough so that the walls of the house would not catch her.

Lithuania had been sweeping the kitchen floor when he heard it.

It was slow at first, but quickly picked up in speed. A medley of musical notes filled the kitchen, encircling Lithuania in a vortex he did not care to free himself of. So captivated was he that he dropped his broom handle, willingly losing himself in the beauty that now surrounded him. The music was whimsical and spontaneous, with undertones of darkness and dread. He soon realized that what he was hearing was lifetime being laid out before him, and he knew for a fact that only a Nation could express such a vast assortment of life experience. But just as he was about to wonder who it was, the wrong note was played, and the music faltered. The spell was broken, and the musical notes that once swirled around him fell to the floor and shattered like glass. Lithuania opened eyes that he didn't realize had been closed. He blinked a few times, but before he could fully bring himself back to reality, the music began once again.

This piece, if possible, as even better than the last. While not as lively, this one had a surreal, dreamy air to it. Slow and steady, it was a first glance, a shaky smile. Runaway's. Revolutions. Togetherness. It took Lithuania's breath away, and he slowly brought a hand up to his heart, his mind's eye illuminated with the image of—

He dropped everything and ran throughout halls, through the fields of rye, determined to find the one responsible for the reminder of his best love and worst heartache.

Czech played on, her eyes closed, her fingers moved across the piano keys with an experts touch. She played whatever came to mind, her feelings flowing freely through the only medium she truly knew how to use. Lost within herself, she did not notice when another Nation walked into the room.

Lithuania was stunned. This girl was the one responsible? He never would've guessed something so beautiful and lovely could come from her, of all people. Wasn't she the Nation who was always trembling, unshed tears perpetually stationed at the corners of her eyes? Wasn't she the Nation who always ran away, fearing certain death if she didn't? Wasn't she the girl who allowed herself to be pushed around so severely by Russia that it was only reminiscent to how he allowed himself to be treated?

Wasn't she Czechoslovakia?

The piece she was playing, it was getting harsher, the notes sharp and abrupt, ones that told of tyranny and abuse. Despite this, in his heart Lithuania knew that the young girl still had the subject of love on her mind. He understood this; Lithuania knew better than anyone that abuse from a third party could often bring people together in suprising ways.

Over time, the piece transformed once again, to something slow and soft, the notes being played lightly. Still, it was all about love, and Lithuania could see himself in this girl. He could not hold himself back any longer. Before he could stop himself, he walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

As expected, she stopped playing immediately. Her hands frozen apron the keys, one finger still pressing down on an ivory, the monotonous note ringing in the air, quickly becoming stale. Gently, he took her hand and lifted it just so, removing her finger from the abused key.

She didn't turn around, so he came around to face her. As expected, she already had tears in her eyes. She lowered her head, and whispered in a tear strained voice, "I-I'm sorry… p-please, don't hurt me!"

Lithuania tilted his head to the side. "Hurt you? Why would I do that?"

Her mouth opened to reply, but no words came out. She closed her mouth and, head still down, began shaking her head vigorously. Her shoulders began to shake with her silent sobbing, and the other Nation felt his heart go out to the girl. "Don't cry! I'm not going to hurt you!"

Slowly, she tilted her head up. "B-but… your L-Lithuania, r-right?"

He nodded. Her face contorted with fear, but she still managed to say, "Then o-of cou-course you're gonna hurt… you'll hurt…"

"No, no, no." Lithuania came back over to her and wrapped his arms around the crying Nation. "Trust me, Miss Czechoslovakia… I'm the last person in this house who would ever hurt you."

She sniffled a bit, before whimpering something Lithuania didn't quite catch. "What was that?"

"It…It's Czech. Just c-call me Czech."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "But I thought—"

"I'm on-only Czech. My partner i-is Slovakia. Together, we make Czechoslovakia."

She seemed to be calming down a bit, but she was still stuttering, and she still seemed tense. "I see," he said with a smile. He began to rub her back, reasoning that the kind motion would put her more at ease. "So, the two of you are a union? Like Austria-Hungary?"

She closed her eyes, and turned away from the other Nation. Quietly, she rasped, "Please, don't com-compare me to those two. Me and Slovakia will never, ever be as low as they were."

This confused Lithuania for a moment—he knew for a fact that Austria and Hungary were both very kind Nations—before remembering that Czech used to be their underling. Of course she would feel that way towards them. "I'm sorry. Forgive me, Miss Czech?"

She turned to look back at him, and gave him the shakiest of smiles. "Yes, okay. It's okay."

Lithuania kneeled down in front of Czech, so that he now had to look up at her. "Miss Czech, what you were playing just now, it was beautiful. I've never heard a piece like that before. What do you call it?"

She frowned. "What do I call it?" She looked over towards the piano. "But… but that was nothing. It wasn't even good."

"No. That was defiantly something. It was… it was like a saga, an epic of all different types of emotions. I… I especially liked the latter half of it, after you played that bad note."

Czech lowered her eyes to the ground, a light blush creeping up on her round, youthful face. As if she were ashamed of her masterpiece. "After the sour note?"

"Yes! It reminded me of… of myself, really. It took me back to a happier time in my life."

"A happier time?"

"Yes. See, like you, I too was once a union. Hundreds of years ago, I was part of the Lithuanian-Polish commonwealth." Lithuania's eyes clouded over in memory as he recalled. "Yes, together Poland and I made quite the powerful country. We were big, too, very big. People were actually afraid of us," he chuckled a bit at that. "Imagine, other Nations, all powerful in their own right, afraid of Poland and I! I know you were afraid of me just a few minutes ago, but these Nations knew full well who we were and what we were like, and they were still afraid. It was nice to have that kind of respect, but it wasn't the source of my happiness, however. It was Poland…"

Czech's eyes widened, before she nodded in complete understanding. Lithuania continued. "Don't ever tell him that I said this, but yes, back then Poland himself did make me very, very happy. As annoying and demanding as he was, I really did love him… in fact, I still do. One of the worst days of my life was when Russia partitioned out country. He took me and left Poland behind, and… I didn't see him for quite some time after that. Even now, we rarely ever come into contact. Russia makes sure of that."

Czech looked away from him, then. "I'm sorry."

He waved her off. "Don't say that. You had nothing to do with it."

"Yeah, but still…"

They both remained silent for a few moments, before Czech quietly asked, "So, you think my music was good, huh?"

"Yes. It was excellent."

"Hm…" She placed her hands on the piano keys again, and began to play, repeating the notes of the latter half of her piece. She continued to play as she turned slightly to face Lithuania and asked, "Was that how it went?"

His hands over his heart, he nodded. The girl then stopped, took some music sheets and a pen that lay on top of the piano itself, and began to write it all down.

A few days later, when Czech was scheduled to go back to her own country, Lithuania heard it again, and he followed it back to its source. He once again found Czech in the same room he'd found her in before. Everything in the scene looked the same, with one exception.

The addition to the scene sat next to Czech on the piano stool as she played. He was a big, burley man, with brown hair flecked with silvery grey. His head was turned at such an angle to look at Czech that Lithuania could his face. The man had a full beard. He had wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Lithuania could tell that he was a Nation, but… all of the Nations he knew, no matter how chronologically old, never physically aged much. But this Nation was the first he had ever encountered who actually looked as old as he probably was.

"Ah, so I see you've met Czech and Slovakia."

Lithuania jumped up. He didn't need to turn around to know that it was Russia. "I… I, um, I…"

"It's okay. They loom adorable together, da? Everyone thinks Slovakia has pedo feelings for Czech, but I don't think so. She's too happy around him, da. See?"

Lithuania saw. Or, more accurately, he felt. He could all but feel Czech's happiness as she played the piece for Slovakia. The gloomy aura that always followed the girl just seemed to lift because of his presence, as if it ran away scared of the big, burly old man. "… yes."

"It was hard to invade them those years ago. They tried so hard to defend each other… it was actually kind of sad. But, oh well! They deserved it, da!"

He could remember the invasion of Czechoslovakia, how he smiled as he reiterated to everyone how it had happened. As if beating on those weaker than you were something to be admired. As if it was suddenly honorable to beat up on young girls and late-in-life men.

They defended each other, found strength in each other, just like me and... Lithuania closed his eyes. "W-Why did you invade them again?"

"Oh… just because they were being stupid, going on and on about 'giving socialism a face'. Economic ideologies don't have faces!"

"I don't think that's what they meant—"

"Furthermore, they were trying to distance themselves from me. From us. I let Yugoslavia and Albania and China get away with it, but Czechoslovakia signed the Warsaw Pact, you see. They belong to us. And giving their people the freedom to say whatever they want goes against the pact."

"Why is freedom of speech a bad thing, though?"

"…because, if people can say whatever they want, then they can spread silly things like support for capitalism and America. And those silly idea's can spread and grow and overtake and become revolutons. It happened once before, but for the better. We don't want to undo all the progress that we've made, do we?"

"How is any of this progress? Look at this place! It's falling apart! And you, you can't even tell the difference! Or you just ignore it, I don't even know which is worse," Lithuania turned around, glowering at Russia. "You have no right to do the things that you do. America would never do anything like thi—"

Before Lithuania could react, Russia lifted up his water pipe and hit him over the head. Hard.

"Tsk. Just my point. Freedom of speech only leads to bad things, da. Czechoslovakia learned the hard way, I guess you will, too. But I'll go easier on you, we don't want a civil war or anything, do we?"

Lithuania swallowed, audibly. There was nothing he could do to stop one of Russia's 'lessons'; he just had to take it. He began the process of his mental detachment as Russia dragged him away.

Hours later, Lithuania returned back to the piano room, if only to say goodbye to Czech. He was limping, and he now sported a long, deep gash across his forehead… and those were just the wounds that could be seen. What he really wanted to do was go lie down and try to forget the ordeal he'd just gone through, but he pushed himself. No matter how close Russia claimed Czechoslovakia was, Lithuania truly had no idea when the little girl she had befriended would come back. He at least needed to bid his farewells.

But she wasn't there. It was getting dark out, and Lithuania figured she and her partner were already long gone. The room seemed so gloomy and sad without her in it. However, just as he was about to turn around and leave, he noticed something.

On top of the piano stool was a small stack of papers. He went over and picked them up. On them were musical notes, and upon reading the title he knew that what he was looking at was the piece Czech had written for Slovakia.

It was titled 'Forever?'

For both their sakes, Lithuania hoped that the answer would be yes.

A/N: Done. Hope yall enjoyed it xD