"Mr. Russia, tell me. Why do you not have a religion?"

Russia smiled at Brazil's innocent question. Ivan was spending the week at Brazil's house to get away from the cold, harsh weather in Russia. Though his usually coat, pants and boots were replaced by sandals, shorts, and a short-sleeved shirt, his white scarf remained. When entering the country, he refused point blank to take it off. His big sister had made it for him of course.

Brazil was usually so locked up about things and on guard most of the time. In fact, when Russia sneaked glances at her, she would be glaring at anyone looking at Ivan oddly or cracking her knuckles threateningly. But when it came to other people, she wanted to know everything about them. It wasn't that she was nosy (she kind of was) but that she wanted to get to know someone enough before opening up to them.

Ivan paused for awhile now, thinking the question over. He had never really considered a religion. Everywhere he went was so cold, whether General Winter followed him or not. Nothing was ever warm for long. Russia shrugged.

"It doesn't really matter to me. I can't really imagine Heaven as anything but cold because it's supposedly in the sky. And Hell is very hot and it hurts you."

Luciana grew quiet, thinking it over. "Heaven isn't cold. It's room temperature."

Russia burst out laughing, causing many people nearby to look up in alarm. They had long left the market and had gone to the outskirts of the town to walk near the river. Not many people were there, only a handful, but they were dispersing quickly.

"Well, it's not cold," Brazil said in defense. Ivan and Luciana continued to walk a bit further. He remembered how, early in the week, three men tried to attack them for their wallets. Russia, bringing his water pipe whenever he went out, was ready, but Brazil had beat him to the fight by punching one in the nose and kicking him down, flipping one over, and pressing the pressure point on the other's hand when he tried to grab her and flipping him over also. It also helped that she was six feet tall and that Russia saw them losing some of their nerve when they saw her.

Luciana suddenly paused, which caused Ivan to bump into her accidentally. Almost automatically, Brazil glared at him. Realizing what she did, she turned away, a pink tinge on her cheeks, and started walking near the river. Russia followed her with a chuckle.

"You know," Brazil began. "Being a Christian isn't bad or anything…"

She always had that accent, even when she spoke Portuguese. Russia had gone to Portugal's house before and heard the way she talked in her native language. Luciana spoke the same words, but with a little accent to them. He thought it was kind of cute. Not that he would admit that to her.

"I do not understand why you are Christian though…"

"Well… It gives me something to believe in after I die. I don't want to think that I just see darkness after death. Maybe there is something after I die…"

Luciana grew quiet, thinking about what to say next. Once Portugal had come over to her land, she had dropped her old gods and went to the God. There weren't human sacrifices so she didn't have to see any of her children die, and she liked the idea of Heaven. Her old religion consisted of a place where everyone was there, but you couldn't see anyone and there was just the darkness there. It had scared her. She had been rather happy when this new religion was introduced. Luciana was even more pleased when she was granted independence without a fight and had kept her new language. Sure, Spain stalked her once in a while (which is why she took up boxing and martial arts), but at least he wasn't France.

Russia took the opportunity to look over her. She always wore small shorts and a tank top because it was always hot and easier to fight in. He hated that she was wolf-whistled at by drunks on the streets, but he found it amusing when she scowled at them or cracked her knuckles, silently daring them to challenge her. Ivan also hated bringing her to his country, no matter how many times she insisted. He thought it was too cold for her or that Belarus might hurt her. On her first visit, however, she immediately stomped down on Belarus by pinning her to the ground and threatening to rip her ear off if she tried anything with her. She also seemed to enjoy the cold because it was so different from the climate in Brazil.

Ivan flushed as he realized he had been staring at her for some time now. Brazil mistook it for heat. "Want to go back?"

"Da," he answered.

It took a short time for them to get seeing as they had a race. Naturally, Luciana won, showing a rare smile at him that showed her white teeth.

"Queres frango para comer?" Russia was far used to her slipping into her native tongue that he simply answered, with a smile, "Da, I would like some chicken."

They ate dinner quietly, abusing America sometimes or France. Mostly France.

"Do you want um pastel de nata afterwards?"

Ivan cleared his throat, thinking this was the perfect time. "нет, I would like something else."

Without looking up, Brazil asked, "What?"

Ivan leaned forward and tilted her chin up. He softly kissed her lips, hoping she wouldn't slap him. When he let go of her, her face was flushed and she started babbling in Portuguese. After a moment, she went to her room and slammed the door, Russia's heart sinking to his stomach. Of course she wouldn't like-

Brazil opened the door again. "You're taking me out to dinner tomorrow."

Ivan smiled as she slammed the door again.