Disclaimer:
I do not, in any way, own Hetalia Axis Powers, nor am I making profit from this work. Felipe Rizal (surname subject to change. XD) is OC!Philippines-tan, created by me and my friend.

Warnings:
OC!Nation-tan (Philippines), use of real people as characters, use of foreign language (Filipino)

Summary:
"We Americans like to think that we taught Filipinos democracy. Well, tonight, they are teaching the world." – Bob Simon, CBS anchorman

Hindi Ka Nag-iisa
By: IceFlake 77
(Dedicated to the late President Corazon Aquino)

Chapter 1: Nobyembre 1969

It was November 1969.

Everything around him was so grandeur, and he didn't think that it was only because of the majestic ballroom they were in was decorated so lavishly. True, he did ogle the pristine white tablecloths that covered the top of each of the wide, circular tables which occupied most of the available space, except for a wide aisle in the middle of the hall that would probably be used as a stage, in replacement of a real one; the extravagant centerpieces that sat in the middle of each table, all of them the most gigantic bouquets of flowers he had seen his entire life, with the main defining characteristic of each a single green palm leaf; and simply the venue itself, with its almost impossibly high ceilings, its scarily humongous and elegant glass chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, and its degradingly majestic double doors, but he decided that these all paled in comparison to the people around him, all of whom were dressed in their very best barongs, or ternos, or dresses.

The stars of the entire affair, the members of the Marcos family, were scattered throughout the place. President Marcos was having a very animated conversation with the Secretary of Justice Juan Ponce Enrile, one of his most trusted men, as First Lady Imelda helped usher in the guests, greeting each one with a smile, a handshake, and a few words; meanwhile, all the children were huddled together in one area, probably talking about something less complicated and far less important than their parents.

The only one who was not taking part of the celebrations was 14-year-old Maria, who simply sat next to Felipe, who had been told to keep a very low profile, and observed her surroundings, much like what he was doing.

Felipe discreetly stole a glance of the girl next to him. For a young teenager, she looked distinctively mature, he noted. The way she dressed spoke highly of her family's status; the way she behaved of her wholesome upbringing; and the way she spoke of her perfectly honed, refined sophistication. She hardly seemed to be 14.

She must've felt him staring, as she suddenly turned her head to directly face him. Their eyes met.

Felipe knew that compared to the other Nations, he wasn't very fast at identifying emotions, but the girl's eyes practically dripped with an oddly serene sort of happiness.

Contentment.

He looked away, leaning even further into the back of his chair, as he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. He felt the hair at his nape stand up due to the feeling of her intense gaze on him.

"What is it?" he heard her ask.

"I-I was just thinking, that's all," he stuttered back, shifting uncomfortably, feeling like a zoo animal because of her looking at him. After a pause, he said, "You know…you don't have to…stay with me."

"You don't want me here?"

"O-Of course it's not that!" He abruptly reeled his head around and saw the gentle smile on her face.

"I really like your company; really, I do," he quickly defended himself, gesturing with his hands, a habit of his, in an attempt to accentuate his point. "But the other people will think you're being oddly anti-social, especially since it's your father who's hosting this whole thing!"

He really wanted her to stay, he did, but in such a situation, he couldn't possibly allow himself to be selfish.

She raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Then let them think that."

Felipe sputtered lightly before retorting, "You're the daughter of the president! And his eldest child, no less!" Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest before chiding, "Imagine what people would say about you…"

Her laugh was a measure of lighthearted staccatos, the sound of which resembled that of a bell. "Well, how about you? I can't possibly leave you all alone, Felipe!"

"D-Don't make me into an excuse for not doing what you're supposed to do!"

Really, he didn't like it when that happened.

She coughed lightly. "Well, Inay and Itay said that I can do whatever I want and talk to whoever I want tonight," she coolly explained.

"That doesn't mean you should just isolate yourself…"

She shrugged. "Okay lang 'yan. Stop worrying, will you? Look around; there are only kids and adults here."

And he did. True to her statement, there were adolescents and children running around, being followed (or rather, chased) by their yayas, and adults, who populated most of the room, were scattered, discussing quietly among themselves, but no one who appeared to be Maria's age fell into his line of vision.

"I'd rather be reprimanded, if ever, for enjoying my time here with you, instead of be praised for miserably socializing with people I don't want to talk to," she softly stated, only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He turned to her again, a surprised look on his face. He bit his lip as he stared into the chocolate-colored eyes looking into his own just as intently.

"Imee…" Her nickname escaped his lips as he gave a lopsided grin, like one a big brother would give to an overzealous little sister, before sighing. "You really do know just what to say and when, don't you?" he commented, to which she laughed.

"I guess I got it from Itay."

And he had no doubt about it.

Translations (Filipino -- English):
Inay and Itay -- Mother and Father, respectively
Okay lang 'yan -- That's okay.
Yaya --Nanny

Terno – a type of dress