Oh gosh, I did it.

This is dedicated to Nijihime (I miss seeing you in my inbox!), and corresponds with her story Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned. If you've read it (in fact I would recommend reading that before reading this) then you should know where this pairing is coming from.

If you guys really like it, I might try another Hetalia/Sakura fic, but I'll need some feedback first!

Translations and notes are at the bottom.

Standard disclaimers apply.


Lars swore internally as his body was racked by a series of coughs. He pulled the heavy quilt blanketing him tighter around his prone form.

"Godverdomme." He wheezed, and curled deeper into the couch cushions. He'd moved into his living room a couple of hours ago, hoping to distract himself from his misery with some mindless program on the television. It hadn't worked and he didn't have the energy or will to go back to his bedroom.

Lars didn't get sick often-one of the perks of being a country- only every fifty years or so. But on the rare occasions he did fall ill, it was like Hell on Earth. The coughing, the body aches and fevers; he didn't know how normal people could put up with this kind of stuff every couple of months. He cursed once again as he wiped his congested nose, not caring about his crude language in his current state. He was alone anyways, so it wasn't like anyone could hear him.

Across from him the television droned monotonously with the noise of some documentary. He didn't know what it was about; he was too preoccupied with the fact that the narrator's low voice was making it harder and harder to stay awake…


The next thing Lars was aware of was the feeling of someone shaking his shoulder. The unexpected sensation made him jump slightly and his eyes shoot open. Ignoring his stiff neck (courtesy of falling asleep while sitting up), his gaze looked around the room frantically for the source of the disturbance. He found it less than a second later in the form of a young woman standing less than a foot away from him.

His hazy mind took in her familiar appearance; large green eyes that sparkled in amusement, pink lips curled up in a confident grin, and unusually colored hair that was disguised as light auburn (something she did whenever she had to go out in normal society).

"Sakura?" His voice came out rough and slightly nasally.

The woman let out a small laugh and stepped closer. "Konbanwa, Oran-kun."

"What are you doing here?" He asked somewhat suspiciously.

"What? You're not happy to see your old friend Sakura? I'm offended Oran-kun." She said in mock hurt as she began to shed the outer layers of her clothing.

Lars let out a grunt and shifted his blanket to drape across his shoulders. "You know what I mean. You live thousands of miles away from me, you wouldn't come here without a reason."

He watched Sakura wrap her red scarf around one of the pegs on the coat rack by the door as he waited for her response.

"Eh, Ino's here visiting France-san and she dragged me along too." She shrugged her coat off of her shoulders and shook her long-and now pink once again-hair out of a ponytail. "I heard from him that you were feeling under the weather and decided to come over to make sure you were OK." She grabbed a large, white plastic bag and made her to his kitchen, stopping at his side first to ruffle his limp, light brown hair. "Plus those two perverts were starting to drive me crazy. I had to get out of there before I snapped."

He halfheartedly slapped her hand away and shook his head at her answer. That sounded like typical Sakura behavior. She was still the same fiery girl that he'd met all those years ago. The country was brought of his reflections by the sound of pots and pans clanking and cupboards opening.

"Hey! What are you doing in there? You better not be messing up my kitchen." He called out, more out of curiosity than real worry. The pinkette practically lived at his house whenever she came over to visit or when it was his turn to host meetings. He was surprised that he hadn't given her a key yet considering all the times she was over. Wait. If she didn't have a key then… "And how did you get in here?" He was certain that he had locked the doors the night before.

Sakura came back with two steaming cups in her hands. "Don't worry you neat freak, I promise that all your counters will be just as clean and shiny as when I found them, after I'm done making your surprise." She answered the first question cheerfully while handing him a mug filled mullein tea. "And I tried knocking earlier but I guess that cold really knocked you out. I couldn't find your spare key either, so I just ended up picking the lock."

Lars's eyebrows rose in surprise at that, but he just settled for sliding over to give her room to sit next to him rather than question his friend's actions any further. He knew that sick or no, she still hit him if she got riled enough.

The rest of the evening passed by pleasantly. Sakura flitted in and out of the kitchen, dividing her time between cooking the mysterious dish (although it smelt very familiar to Lars, even with clogged nasal passages) and making sure that the ailing nation always had a full cup of her medicinal tea. She chattered constantly as well; politics, economics, and just plain gossip were all topics of their discussions. He almost had another coughing fit when he heard her ridiculous theory that Sealand would end up taking over the world one day.

"You can't be serious." Came his deadpan response.

"Well, it could happen! Sea-chan is very motivated."

"You're so full of it Sakura." Laughter floated to his ears. He let out a small smile; he had always liked her laugh.

"Hai, hai. Whatever, now close your eyes! I'm all done!" He did what she said with a tiny sigh. 'What in the world is that woman planning?'

The aroma that had been steadily wafting from the kitchen for the last few hours attacked him full force as Sakura brought the food over to his coffee table. Lars felt his mouth water at the smell and he realized that he hadn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday.

"Tada!" Sakura sang.

Lars took that as his cue to open his eyes. A grin lit up his face at the sight of a large pot filled with thick, green soup resting on in front of him. There was also a loaf of dark bread and more tea to go along with it. She'd made Snert, one of his favorite dishes; the pea soup was a popular part of his country's cuisine. He gave the spread an appreciative once over-chuckling at the smiley face made of rookworst floating on the soup's surface.

"Thank you," he said as he opened his arms for a hug. Sakura gladly skipped over to meet his hold. "Everything looks amazing."

"I hope it's as good as yours," she broke away from his embrace to scoop ladles of the hot stew into a pair of bowls. "I didn't have the time to cook it overnight and I guessed on some of the ingredients, but I've had it enough times to make it taste halfway decent."

The pinkette took a seat next him and tucked her feet beneath her body before handing him a bowl and spoon.

"Itadakimasu!"

"Proost."

The next few minutes were spent in silence as the two ate. The only noise was that of spoons clinking against ceramic dishes and the occasional sniffle. Lars was the first to break the hush.

"You're right Sak, this stuff is pretty decent. Not as good as mine but a good try nonetheless."

"Oi, you ungrateful bastard!" Sakura punched him lightly in the shoulder. Well, light for her anyways; the blow almost knocked him over. "See if I ever make you anything again."

"I was just kidding you know. It's great. But I might have to retract my statement if my arm bruises too badly." Lars rubbed his abused arm ruefully and shot his companion a dirty look.

"Oh you big baby, you turn into such a wuss when you're sick. Here let me kiss it better." However, instead of his arm, her lips met his cheek in a sweet peck. "There, how does it feel now?"

"Pretty good,' he murmured and brought her body closer to his. "But I think you missed." Before he could bring mouth to hers, Sakura shoved a hand into his face.

"Whoa there Oran-kun, slow your roll. You're sick remember? I'm all for cuddling and whatnot, but I do not want to get what you have." And with that she plucked the emptied dishware from his grasp and sauntered to the kitchen. "By the way can I stay the night? France-san wanted me to stay at his place, but I refuse to sleep within ten feet of him since he tried crawling into my bed during the Olympics."

"Natuurlijk, if you want." Lars mumbled as he settled into his couch, feeling drowsy once again from the meal. He heard the other country go into his room presumably to find some of his clothes to change into, and then into the bathroom where she kept an extra toothbrush. After finishing her nightly rituals Sakura slipped onto the sofa and pressed smaller form against his fever-warmed body

"You're so sweet to me, arigato." Her voice came out muffled against his chest. Lars immediately wrapped an arm around her waist and curled himself around her.

"Are you sure you want to sleep in here with me? You might catch my cold." He teased and curled a lock of her light pink hair around a finger.

"Hmm, your bed is pretty comfortable, so if you don't want me here…" Sakura was answered by a tightening around her midsection. "Oyasuminasai, Oran-kun."

"Goede nacht, Sakura." Suddenly being sick didn't seem like such a bad thing anymore.


OK, be honest how was it? For some reason I feel like my writing style is getting a little boring and repetitive, do you guys thinks so? If you do then do you have any tips?

Sasu-Cake137's Personal Headcanon: Lars (fan name for the Netherlands) and Sakura (the Land of Fire) have an on again, off again relationship, but no matter what still stay friends. The Netherlands' nickname, 'Oran-kun', comes from the fact that in Japanese the Netherlands/Holland is called Oranda.

Translations: Godverdomme- God damn/dammit. A pretty bad swear in the Netherlands if my research is correct, so I wouldn't recommend using it; Konbanwa- Good evening; Itadakimasu- Let's eat; Proost-Cheers; Natuurlijk- Of course; Oyasuminasai- Good night, Goede nacht- Good night.

On a side note, if anyone actually from the Netherlands reads this and sees something wrong with the facts I used, or just doesn't like how I've portrayed him (I used the Hetalia wiki for his personality so...) tell me and I'll change it.