Hiii~ Enjoy this one-shot! It's kinda fluffy, with slight DenNor! Enjoy~

So why did England have such a genuine smile on his face?

Sure, he still yelled at France slapped him silly, but when he smiled, it wasn't forced. It was a real smile.

This, among all thing, bothered Norway for the whole meeting. England was supposed to be grumpy and the guy whose smile was either a smirk, a sneer or somewhat forced. But no, that day, when he did smile, it wasn't a fake mask. Okay, not really. It was slightly forced, but you get the idea.

Norway wondered if anyone else noticed. He let out a soft sigh, pushing Denmark's face away as the latter tried to creep up on him. His blue eyes zoomed in on a small figure in a corner, but the figure disappeared into the shadows almost instantly.

The blonde man contained his confusion until after the meeting, where he approached his friend. It was around 7 pm and it was right before a certain special day- his birthday. That meant tonight and tomorrow night, he would sit on a hill and watch the sun set.

"England, what's made you so cheerful?" Norway spoke, his tone emotionless.

England turned his head, startled, then smiled at his friend. "Let's say, my former colony has taught me something."

Norway was surprised for a moment. "America?" he queried, and wasn't surprised when his response was a shake of the head.

"No, another one. I don't think you've met her before. She came to the meeting today, for a while, then left. I'll let you meet her next time," England nodded and waved goodbye to his friend, and the fairies accompanying him did so too. Norway let himself smile softly, then rearranged his facial features before a certain Danish nation saw it.

Speaking of the Dane, here he came now. At least he knew that Norway was going to watch the sun set, so he wouldn't bother him.

When Norway arrived at the gently rolling hills, he was surprised to find someone else sitting there, quietly reading a book.

As if sensing him, the person, who turned out to be an Asian girl, turned her head around and smiled warmly at him, even though Norway had no idea who she was. Apparently, the girl did, as she spoke quietly, "Hello, Norway."

The girl looked physically sixteen, her heart-shaped face looking golden in the sun that was starting to set. She was slender and slightly short for her physical age, though, as she was quite skinny, she looked slightly taller. Her feature were childish, and her cheeks were rosy. Her hair was raven black with a brownish tint, and her eyes were wide and friendly, and they sparkled. At first glance Norway thought her eyes were black, but they were midnight blue.

Having nothing else to say, Norway replied, "Hej," and walked over and sat beside her, as she was sitting on the spot where the view was best.

The girl pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them. "How are you? I'm Singapore, but please call me Sing," she spoke in a distinctly accented voice, and her tone was kept polite and formal.

Norway nodded. "Hello, Sing," he murmured.

"Happy early birthday. Iggy told me," she grinned at him in a similar way as to Denmark and America and possibly Prussia, only less arrogant and annoying, and more mature.

The man did not respond, and kept his emotionless eyes determinedly fixed on the horizon. He did not have to talk if he did not want to. Luckily, the girl took the hint and respected his wishes, though he could practically feel her eyes on him, more particularly his face. Was he that interesting? Norway thought to himself, not bothering to turn around to look at the girl, Sing.

There was another ten or twenty seconds of silence, then the girl spoke in a slightly commanding voice, "Smile."

Norway's eyelids, which were halfway closed, shot up and, startled, he turned to stare at the girl. He, of course, knew what she meant. But was she serious? One quick glance at her face told him that she was, indeed, serious.

"What do you mean?" Norway spoke quietly, his voice showing an eighth of the surprise he felt.

Sing gave him a deadpanning look, and repeated her earlier statement. It was just a statement, but an order, a command, and Norway found himself wondering whether he should obey her. Then he shook his head, to both get rid of his thoughts and to her statement.

Sing's eyes did not show disappointment, though, and they hardened. She repeated her order again and again, until Norway, to get her to stop pestering him, sighed in defeat.

He turned to look at her, then pushed his facial features to form a soft, gentle smile that people normally thought it beautiful. Then it vanished.

The Singaporean girl, however, did not react, but was studying him intently. Although he did not show it, Norway was slightly uncomfortable. It was as if the girl could see right through him. There was around half a minute of silence, then it was broken by the girl, again.

Norway was unconsciously bracing himself for what she was going to say when she opened her mouth, but her answer was completely unexpected. It was delivered in a critical tone, as if she was a judge and he was the object she was giving her opinion about.

"You need to work on it."

"Excuse me?" Norway asked, his tone as emotionless as ever.

"It's so obviously a fake smile. It's so see-through. Its like the Phantom of the Opera mask. It's not working. I need you to smile, again. But not a forced one, a real one! Fake smiles don't satisfy me."

"Then don't ask me to smile for you!" Norway snapped. There was silence, again. This silence, however, was longer than the first or second. It lasted a minute. Then sun was halfway down, and the sky was a brilliant gold color, with a crimson and pinkish tinge.

He sensed that she was about to speak again. He was right.

Sing's tone was softer than ever, softer than Liechtenstein's, softer than C-c-c-Canandia. It was barely more than a whisper, yet Norway could hear it quite clearly. "Do you want me to teach you how...?"

Norway raised a questioning eyebrow to her, and she repeated her offer again, louder.

The emotionless man contemplated it in his head thoughtfully. Teach me how? Does she mean how to...smile? How do you teach someone how to smile? That's impossible, isn't it? Smiles are just... smiles. Something to show your happiness, but not the only thing. Why smile, when you can do something else to show your happiness, instead? A smile is only an action. I already know how to smile, I've just shown her that. Yet she wants to teach me how to smile?

Okay, he admitted that he was curious. Sing must have read his mind or eyes or just some sign that he made to show his curiosity, because a smile spit on her face, and her eye twinkled.

She clapped her hands together and sat up straight. "Smiling is really easy, Norway, so it won't take long for you to learn how! You may think a smile is nothing, but it is, in fact, everything! A fake smile is not a smile! Now, give me a smile! Any smile! Real or fake, it's okay!" she said cheerily, her voice louder.

Norway attempted a smile better than the one before. He managed it, but barely, though this time, Sing did not complain or criticize him. Why was he doing this anyways? It wasn't like him. Maybe it was the curiosity.

Sing studied him intently, then suddenly reached out and prodded his cheek. It was so out of the blue that Norway didn't have time to react before the girl pushed the corner of his mouth up. When she let go, the corner of his mouth dropped again. Norway glared at her and rubbed his cheek, his expression now back to emotionless.

The girl, however, was not fazed, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Now, try to smile again. More naturally. And imagine your brother Iceland calling you 'Big Brother' while smiling sweetly at you, then giving you a big hug and saying that you were the best brother ever," Sing commanded.

The Norwegian man obeyed her, and tried to smile, again. To his utter surprise-why was he getting so surprised today?-the smile came a little more naturally. Then he let it drop. Imagining Iceland calling him the best brother ever was impossible, wasn't it? He wasn't a good brother. He couldn't even get his little brother to call him 'Big Brother' or 'Storebror' or anything like that.

Sing stuck her tongue out. "Don't get depressed! If that doesn't work, then imagine what it would be like if your family, the Nordics, could have the sight?"

Norway tried to imagine it. But it was impossible, wasn't it? The rest of the Nordics never had the Sight, nor would they ever have it. Still, he would like them to meet his friends, the fairies. But what if Denmark tried to chop them with his axe... or worse? (Whilst thinking all this, his face remained expressionless.) It might be better if they didn't have it, after all.

He shook his head.

Sing screwed her face up, thinking. Then her eyes lit up. "Think of your fairies, your friends," she whispered, scooting closer to him. "Think of times you miss, or 'Ages' that you wished to last a little longer."

He tried again.

The girl next to him let out a excited squeal and put her hands together. "See, you did it!" she exclaimed, giggling somewhat annoyingly. "You're smile is pretty! Like the sunset!" Norway flushed internally and just nodded. Was this girl bipolar? he wondered.

Like the sunset. Hm.

Turning his head, he asked her why she had asked him to smile, and why she kept insisting on it.

"Because, sooner or later, Denmark's going to ask you the same thing. He wants to see you happy," she replied simply, and now, Norway was almost completely sure this girl was bipolar, or just had sudden mood swings.

He turned his head to face her, his eyes revealing nothing. "How do you know," it was not a question, but a simple, quiet statement, as if challenging her to reply.

She did, standing up and snapping her book- which had been lying on the grass -shut.

Her leaving words were: "Because he loves you. Anyone can see that."

"Noooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" a shout came from outside, and it was followed by the banging of the door. Norway's head jerked up from the book he had been peacefully reading and glared heatedly at the door, as if daring it to break down.

It was around four years after the little meeting had happened. Norway consciously did not remember anything, not even the face of the girl, Singapore. But, deep, deep, deep in his mind, the memory was unconsciously etched into there.

The shout came again, and, to shut the stupid Dane up, Norway shouted, "What are you doing outside of my house?" an was replied with a whine, "Nooooooooooooooorr..."

The pale blonde man glared at the door once again then contemplated in his head how much he would have to pay if the Dane actually broke it down. Deciding not to risk it, he stood up, his chair making a screeching noise, and opened the door. Deep blue eyes met sky blue ones, and Norway shut the door in Denmark's face. The whining and the pounding promptly resumed, and Norway, irritated, flung the door open again.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

Denmark immediately latched onto his leg. "Norge, do you hate me?" he asked. Although his voice was in a whining tone, there was desperation in his big blue puppy-dog eyes.

The honest answer to his question was 'No'. How could he hate him? Anyways, if Norway hated him, he would have left him a loooooooooooooooooooooooooong time ago. But if Norway replied honestly, the Danish man might cling onto him even more, and Norway did not want that. So he replied in a sarcastic tone, "Yes. Now get out."

Denmark seems to wilt and Norway rolled his eyes. "Have you heard of sarcasm, idiot?" he deadpanned.

The change of expression was so fast and sudden that Norway was slightly startled. Slightly.

The shorter man asked for the taller to get out of the house. Only, he said it in a way that wasn't exactly polite. Denmark, being Denmark, refused to budge, his arms still wrapped around Norway's leg. The latter gave a huge inward sigh and shook his leg violently, so the former had to get off. He did so, standing up, and, instead of walking out of the door, ran into one of the rooms.

He was definitely going to stay in the house. Norway glared at the room that Denmark had ran into, and the glare's intensity doubled as Norway realized that the spikey-haired blonde had ran into his room.

Deciding that he would kick Denmark out of the house later, Norway went over to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee, though it was around five in the afternoon/evening. He momentarily glanced at the window beside the coffee grinder and, for a second, he thought he saw something behind one of the tall trees. He wasn't sure what it was, but he couldn't be bothered by it.

A few hours later, Denmark was still not out of his house. What was worse was that Iceland had called that he might be staying at Norway's house as well, and if Denmark didn't leave, Norway would have to share a room with one of them. And Norway was sure that he would not have a say on who.

Why was Iceland suddenly visiting Norway, you ask.

Well, let's just say that he knew that Denmark was there.

Iceland gently knocked on the door of his brother's house, and was promptly greeted with a shout of '"ICEEEEEE!" which made him sweatdrop.

Denmark flung the door open and leaped into the air, throwing his arms wide and... Landed on the ground. Iceland had noved out of the way in time, so Denmark had completely missed him.

Norway came up behind Denmark, who was now sitting upright, and yanked on his tie. "Good afternoon, little brother," he said calmly, as if he could not hear the Dane making choking noises. "As you can see, I have, unfortunately, an idiotic Danish man currently in my house." The Norwegian man gave his younger brother a somehow emotionless 'Evil Eye', already getting suspicious. Iceland just gave him his best innocent face.

"Oh, of course I saw," the silver haired nation said with mild mockery. "However, it seems rather impolite to dump him out of the house, don't you think?" Iceland made a point to speak rather formally.

"Indeed, but since when have I been polite to idiots like him?"

"Even if you dump him out here, he will find a way to get in again. You don't want him to break down your door, do you, big brother?" Iceland smirked.

The elder nation glared at him, but, for once, he was stumped. Ignoring the Dane's protests of 'I'm still here, ya know!', he started dragging the spiky-haired man into the house, with a smirking island nation trailing after him.

Said nation shut the door quietly and proceeded to sit down at the dining table, ready to do some thinking.

Norway's eyes few open and his body gave a huge jerk, his arms lashing out as if to protect himself. He heard a muffle yelp as his fist collided into something- or, rather, someone- and he sat up straight, glaring at the figure next to him.

"How did you get onto my bed?" the man said dully, glaring at the bigger man next to him. The latter was now awake, giving the former his biggest, most pleading puppy dog eyes, which could sway anyone. Unfortunately for him, Norway was not 'anyone'.

When Denmark refused to answer, the feminine nation repeated his question again.

This time, Denmark did reply, but his answer was a question- "You know, Nor, it wouldn't hurt to smile, would it? By the way, have you even smiled before?" His voice was unnaturally soft, and his brow was furrowed, as if he was trying to imagine how Norway would look when he smiled. He was obviously failing as he kept tilting his head from side to side.

"Of course I have," Norway said stiffly, his glare never wavering. God, what kind of question is that? No doubt a question that only an idiot like Den would ask. But still. What a stupid question.

A smile spread on Denmark's face and he latched onto the smaller man, his arms going around Norway's shoulders. "Smile for me?" he said, attempting to sound cute, his big forget-me-not blue eyes wide.

Somehow, the question sounded familiar, extremely familiar. Norway was silent, trying to dig out memories from his mind, trying to find out why that question sounded somewhat familiar. His mind wandered back to when he was in the kitchen, making coffee. He had seen a figure behind the tree. A figure... He snatched at the memory, trying to hold onto it.

Then he remembered.

The sunset. Smiles. Singapore.

What had the girl said? 'Sooner or later, Denmark's going to ask you the same thing.' Why, though? How did she know? Could she predict the future? No. That was impossible. Seers were rare, and only mortals could become seers.

A prod on his shoulders brought him back to earth. "What?" Norway said, annoyed, and Denmark repeated his earlier question. Norway replied it with a blunt refusal, but Denmark, being Denmark, repeated it again.

Finally, Norway gave in and forced a smile out. "There," he said, now glaring. "Happy?"

The other man shook his head frantically, and requested for another, more genuine smile. Actually, he had said, 'Gimme a real smile!' but that seemed, in Norway's opinion, very selfish.

Wait- this was familiar too. Norway struggled to remember what Sing had said. 'It's so obviously a fake smile. It's so see-through. Its like the Phantom of the Opera mask. It's not working. I need you to smile, again. But not a forced one, a real one! Fake smiles don't satisfy me.'

This was starting to scare him. Really. How did this weird girl predict what Denmark was going to say? Oh wait. He knew how. Denmark was so predictable that even the dumbest of people- aka Denmark/America - knew what he was going to do.

Norway decided to give a real smile a try. What was something happy...? The first memory that came to his head which qualified as 'Happy' was the day where he found Iceland. Iceland had been adorable, so young and small, with beautiful, big violet eyes and a wide smile.

Unconsciously, a soft smile had appeared on Norway's face. It was only a minute after this happened when Norway realized what he had been doing. How dd he realized this? Simple. Denmark had been extremely quiet.

"Now are you satisfied?" Norway snapped, slightly embarrassed. The other man gave a slight jerk and blinked slowly, as if coming out from a trance.

"Hm?" the Dane murmured blearily. "Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Nor." Then he ducked under the blanket, his heart thudding. Norway glared at the figure under the blankets, as if trying to burn a hole in it.

Secretly wishing that he had laser eyes to zap the idiotic man who had suddenly appeared in his bed- Denmark hadn't even told him why!-, Norway muttered, "Why'd you even ask for a smile, idiot? Do you really just want to see me smile for once, or is there a creepier reason?"

The answer was muffled. "The first one."

Heaving a sigh, Norway tucked himself under the blankets, deciding that he was too tired to talk anymore, let alone order Denmark out. "But still, why...?" he murmured, just as he was about to fall asleep. The question was left unanswered, but in Norway's mind, he could hear the answer ringing in his head.

'Because he loves you. Anyone can see that.'

And, as he lost consciousness, he might have hear a soft whisper. "I think it's because I love you. I think anyone can see that." And he might have felt something brush his forehead.

Do not question Norway's OOCness. I am sincerely sorry for it. And if ya wanna know more about my OC Singapore, read my fanfic 'First Secret of Hell'. And don't you guys dare say she's a Mary-Sue, because she isn't. You just don't know her well enough yet.

Anyways, terrible one-shots are terrible. But hey, at least it's finished!

R and R~