Roderich walked up to the quaint little home's doorway and straightened out his blazer. He had chosen to dress down a bit for the occasion, wearing a simple white dress shirt and a gray blazer, it's nothing at all like his beloved tailcoats and ruffled blouses but it was what he could do to fit in. He knocked on the door thrice in a steady beat.

"Good morning Mr. Edelstein! I hope coming all the way here wasn't too much of a fuss." a lady much smaller than him had answered the door. "Good morning miss, my trip here wasn't at all too troubling." the young man smiled at her politely and stooped to her eye level and kissed her on both cheeks, keeping his gentlemanly manner. The lady gestured for him to come in, and Roderich did just that.

Now Roderich was a nation, he was Austria, his hosts know that. But his hosts were human, so for this day, Austria was just Roderich Edelstein, a human.

The lady closed the door behind him and ran upstairs, as she called for the rest of the family to come meet him, the dapper young man stood and observed the humble home. It was definitely not like his mansion, it was small and a bit cramped, some of the furniture was worn, the walls were of wood, they revealed holes from past termite incidents, the carpets and the wallpaper had stains of which one could not identify. But on the walls, photos which framed faces that smiled and laughed. On the shelves, books and toys and old records, and stacks of family photo albums. The smell of boiled potatoes and stew had filled his nostrils, and a strange sort of nostalgic aura washed over him all at once.

"Mr. Edelstein, we are so glad you could come!" a much older man came running down the creaking staircase to meet Roderich, they shook hands and kissed each other on both cheeks. "My pleasure, thank you for inviting me over Konstantin. I am honoured to be able to meet your lovely family." he responded in the most elegant manner, his voice was as velvety smooth as the cream in the cakes he loved to treat himself to once in a while. It's quite rare to find Roderich so relaxed when he's not playing his piano, today he has been invited by one of his men, a military official whom he had grown close to.

"This is my wife, Nikoletta and..." he started looking around to his right, left, and behind him, when a little girl with braided blonde hair popped up from behind her mother, who was right next to her husband. "Anna!" the father took his daughter by her shoulders and faced her towards Roderich. "This is Anna." Anna muttered a small "Guten tag." and smiled shyly. Roderich smiled back.

"Tell Mr. Edelstein how old you are."

"I am thirteen years old."

"She is a beautiful girl Konstantin."

"Thank you, she takes after her mother."

"Oh! I have to go check on the stew!"

Nikoletta scurried off to the kitchen, Konstantin following her. "Please Mr. Edelstein, you may have a seat, this will only take a while." Roderich sat down on the worn couch and closed his eyes, the place felt strangely calming.

A melody started playing in his head, it was soft and melancholic, but it felt different, it was an odd melody, it would stop abruptly every few measures and then the volume would rise, and fall abruptly as well. This melody, this piece, he's never heard this before, he's never composed anything like it either. His head slowly swayed to the curious melody, and his hand moved gracefully to it. And in that moment all he could hear, was his steady breathing, and the melody in his head. He opened his eyes suddenly. He's never composed anything like that before. This isn't all just in his head.

It was as if he was hypnotized, the melody seemed to fill the whole room, he got up without a single thought. He tried to follow the source. Eyes widening, the sound filled his whole body, he walked like that of a dancer following the flow of the curious melody. His footsteps were in sync with the tempo. His breathing slow and steady, and before he knew it, he was staring at a girl, her blonde hair in a braid, her fingers gliding across the piano keys.

The melody was now strong, it was loud and clear now that they were in the same room. He slowly approached Anna and sat down next to her. The piano also looked very worn out and old, it was a simple vertical piano, but the sound was whole and pure. He listened to her play, her face instantly painted with emotion, changing from a sad melancholic emotion rising to an angry aggressive, then to a mellow, soft tune. But the composition of it, seemed wrong, it was odd, the musical protégé next to her slightly cringed, but for some reason, he was drawn to it. She was consumed by the music, she hadn't noticed Roderich right next to her.

The way Anna was playing, seemed to defy all those rules of classical piano which Roderich was much too familiar with, it was different but he had no idea why he was drawn to it. Why. What, what was going on? Are his fingers acting of their own accord? Now he was playing, he tried it, he played his usual classical, and Anna played her own, it was odd, but it was beautiful. She was shocked to find another pair of hands playing along with her, she kept going. The two different styles danced, they intertwined into a pretty odd swirl of artistic madness. And they loved it. They conversed through the black and white keys of the same instrument, she laughed, and he smiled.

"What do you call that?" Roderich asked. "Call what? The song? It was nothing in particular. I just play what I feel." Anna replied. "I see..." Roderich said, as he looked out the nearby window, it was now past noon, and it was very bright day. "That was really nice. I've never played with anyone else before, now I see how it works. We are two different people, and we've made this music, because we feel the same feelings and emotions, and we all become one heart. A heart that just wishes to make music, and share it with others, it is what connects us." Anna looked up at Roderich. He smiled at her and nodded in agreement. "You are a smart girl Anna." said Roderich. "Thank you." Anna replied shyly.

"Well you are very good at playing, Mr. Edelstein."

"Thank you, I actually compose classical pieces."

"That's amazing, I wish to be a composer too."

"I'm sure you'll be a great composer Anna."

When they turned around, they found Konstantin and Nikoletta standing by the doorway, they were listening the whole time. "I didn't know you had such a talented daughter." Roderich said as he stood up from his seat. "She surprises even us sometimes." Nikoletta replied with a smile.

Anna tapped Roderich on the shoulder, "Mr. Edelstein?" he looked over at her. "Play again with me sometime?" she asked, her blue eyes stared right into Roderich's own. "Yes. I would love to." he replied and gave her a pat on the shoulder.

- 10 YEARS LATER-

Roderich was out for his daily errands. A melody started to play in his head. It was familiar, and it was nostalgic. He followed the curious melody and there, as he was walking past a park, a great crowd was gathered, there was a stage propped, and on it was a grand piano, and the pianist, had her blonde hair in a braid.

Anna, she was playing something that sounded like that of a new, different kind of piano music, and Roderich was unsurprisingly drawn to it. He watched her perform all of these pieces which she had spent time carefully composing for the past few years. All of them had a different story to tell, a different flavour every time.

He met her after the show, they exchanged hugs and stories of where they left off.

"It's great to see you again Roderich"

"You too Anna. My, you really have become a great concert pianist. I've always known you would be."

"And you haven't changed at all! Hahaha!"

"Of course I haven't, I am a nation after all."

She had introduced him to her other friends, "Everyone, this is my old friend Roderich Edelstein."
She turned to him and gave him that smile he was also much too familiar with, "He taught me to play."
Roderich smiled back at her, "No, I didn't teach her, she taught me."

She had taught him music's purpose. The connection of people, no matter where they are, and who they are, as humans.