"Hey Austria, if you're going to get stressed about it go play your piano!"
"Brother, don't make the situation worse."
"As if I would take any orders from a brute like you Prussia. And I am not stressed thank you."
"Heh! The way you're sitting with that tea says otherwise, you pansy!"
"Brother, I-"
"It's called having class Prussia, something you would know nothing about!"
"I don't need class, I'm awesome enough!"
Hungary sighed as she kneaded the dough for today's desert, the dough sticking slight to her hands. Flour covered the kitchen counter and her dress. It was the third Sunday of the month, and in keeping with tradition, Germany and Prussia had come to visit Austria's home. At first, Hungary had not been invited to these gatherings, but after the first three visits, Austria had begged her to come. Supposedly, she was there to keep Prussia under control. Eventually, the role had become Germany's and Hungary found herself as a chef/waitress for the duration of the visit.
Hungary didn't mind being kept in the kitchen. At least she was away from the fighting. Frequently, Prussia tried to drag her into his arguments with Austria in an attempt to rile him, but Hungary had been too wise to fall for Prussia's obvious traps.
With a sigh, Hungary stirred the contents of a nearby saucepan. It wasn't quite ready, so she replaced the lid to keep in the heat. She then returned to kneading dough for tonight's desert, a simple apple strudel. The motions seemed to flow naturally, as if she had been making strudels for years.
Well I have, Hungary thought to herself with a small smile. I made strudels for Austria when I lived with him. I never forgot the recipe, despite being apart for many years. How odd.
A loud crash sounded from the living room, followed by Prussia's laugh. Hungary sighed again and rolled her eyes. This visit was turning out just like all the others. With a flick of her brown hair, Hungary returned to her work, her mind beginning to wander as her muscle-memory took over.
It's strange how these visits seem to follow a simple pattern. Soon Austria will shout at Prussia and they will argue over the loss of 'vital regions' again. Then Germany will step in and try to calm them down. Prussia will storm in here and get a beer for himself, Austria will say how rude that is and make drinks for himself and Germany. He'll forget that I'm here making the dinner. Just like the last twenty times the German brothers have visited.
Hungary's smile disappeared and her kneading slowed. She blinked, replaying the last few sentences in her mind. A cold chill gripped her heart as she realised what she had thought.
They all forget that I am here. And I've come to accept that. When did that happen? When did I become accustomed to being ignored?
"Prussia you arrogant fool!" Austria shouted. Hungary heard him clearly, even though he was in the living room. "Will you stop going on about my vital regions, that was years ago!"
"Then why so bitter about it pansy?" came Prussia's loud retort. Hungary sighed again. They never changed. Silently, Hungary counted the seconds before Germany intervened. Five seconds, he must be tense today to snap that quickly.
It's happened so many times, I've learned to judge their moods by their reactions. How... sad.
Hungary shook herself and stirred the saucepan again. She frowned; dinner was still not ready. With a huff, she replaced the lid. What was wrong with her today? Usually she was cheerful and content, happy to listen to the boys mess around. She would have dinner ready by a certain time and smile as she dished out the portions. When they were all seated, she would laugh at Prussia's jokes and join in any discussions. That's how it always happened. Every time. Always the same.
That's... boring, Hungary thought at she turned the heat up, hoping to have dinner ready sooner.
"Yo Hungary, get me a beer will ya?" Prussia asked, appearing at her side. He leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. He looked like a spoilt child, sulking because he couldn't get his way. Hungary sighed again and – despite him being closer – pulled a beer bottle out of the fridge. She used her mouth to open the cap as she couldn't be bothered to root around for a bottle-opener. She hand the open bottle to Prussia, who stared at her. A grin broke out on his face.
"Nice one Hungary!" he exclaimed, snatching the bottle from her hand. "Next time, do that in front of West. It'd be so funny to watch him get flustered!"
Hungary's eyes followed the ex-nation as he strode from the kitchen, loudly shouting that Hungary was amazing with her mouth. Hungary groaned a little, but continued with her preparations. What was taking dinner so long?
I doubt Germany would be flustered over that trick, she thought as she started to roll out the dough. The man is so serious, I could dance naked with a rose in my mouth and he wouldn't blink. Germany only has eyes for Italy, I know that much.
The saucepan began to steam. Hungary pulled some plates from Austria's cupboard and laid them ready. She stirred the contents of the pot, satisfied that it was nearly ready. The rice was already cooked, all she needed to do was mix it in with the sauce and it dinner would be ready. It was only a simple dinner today, but Hungary doubted the boys would notice.
Austria wouldn't notice either, Hungary thought as she stirred the rice in. The time I spent with him was mostly platonic. The few times he did visit my room, it was more duty than genuine friendship. He was more focused on his work and piano.
Hungary's arm pulled a baking tray closer and began to create the strudel for later. Her mind was elsewhere, thus she didn't notice the saucepan begin to boil over. Her green eyes glazed over as she lost herself in her thoughts.
And Prussia... his visits soon stopped when he discovered I was a girl. He only notices me if I act as I was before. As much as it would be fun to act like a boy again, everyone is too used to me being a girl and acting as a girl should. I wonder what Germany and Austria would do if I started sword fighting with Prussia again. Would they notice that I'm alive? Or would they wonder why the chef has stopped working?
The saucepan began to boil over, the lid rattling and whistling loudly, but Hungary's thoughts were far away.
Why am I thinking these thoughts? And why am I so bitter today? Where has my cheerfulness gone? I've never felt the need for their comfort before. I admit I do feel lonely sometimes when I am in my cottage, but I've been content for many years now. If I need other company, I visit Romania or Slovakia, even Croatia if I feel really down. I have plenty of books to amuse me. Why now? After all these years, why should I suddenly need male attention now? And why from them?
The contents of the saucepan began to spill out onto the hob. Hungary's hand stopped kneading the same part of the dough.
All we are is friends, although I know Prussia and Austria have been together. I'm sure Germany and Austria have been together too, they were very close in the last world war. As for Germany and Prussia, they aren't brothers in the human sense, so there is nothing wrong with them being together.
The sauce that had dropped from the saucepan began to hiss as it came into contact with the heat. Smoke started to rise from the saucepan itself.
Wait! Why am I thinking this? It doesn't matter who the three boys have been intimate with. Am I really that lonely that I'm starting to think of them in that way? They are friends, nothing more. And they don't see me in that light either, they all prefer men. If anything happened... it would just complicate our friendship.
"Hungary?"
Anyway, if I wanted male attention I wouldn't ask the boys. As I said, they're friends. There are plenty of other countries who I could be friendly with... not that many other nations like girls, but I'm sure there are some out there. But what am I saying? I don't need-
"Hungary!"
"Huh?"
Suddenly, Germany appeared by her side. He reached over with a towel and moved the burning saucepan from the hob. It took Hungary several moments to realise what had happened.
"Oh dear. I'm sorry," she mumbled. She took the saucepan from Germany's hand, peering inside. The contents weren't too burnt, but there wouldn't be enough for four. Hungary sighed; she could always make herself something simple and let the boys enjoy what she had made. Slowly, Hungary began to dish out the contents of the pan onto the plates, careful to avoid the burnt parts.
"Are you alright? You seem distracted today," Germany asked, his eyebrows knitted with concern.
"I'm fine Germany," Hungary replied with a stretched smile. "Dinner will be ready in a moment; I just need to add the finishing touches. Thank you for your concern."
"Hey what's going on West?" Prussia asked, his head appearing from the doorway. Austria was standing behind him, his eyes wide at the sight of his kitchen. Hungary closed her eyes for a moment, mentally preparing for his outrage, but instead she heard silence.
"Nothing brother," Germany answered.
"Get me a beer then," Prussia snapped. Behind him, Austria scowled.
"Haven't you had enough for one day?" Austria asked, folding his arms.
"Awesome me can never have enough beer!"
Hungary sighed as the boys began to talk loudly again. A strange sadness settled over her as she searched the cupboards for something to disguise the smell of burning. Hungary had almost burned down the kitchen, yet the boys were more concerned with their petty arguments. It felt... a little insulting but expected. She managed to find some pepper and sprinkled some over the three plates. The boys were still talking loudly; Prussia talking about his beer, Austria insulting him in a way only Austria could do and Germany trying to calm him down. With yet another sigh, Hungary gave up trying to announce that dinner was ready.
Do they even know I am here? Hungary thought. She resumed her place at the kitchen counter and began to mix together sugar, cinnamon and brown sugar in a bowl. She had cored and sliced the apples early in the day.
I have spent all day cooking for these three. Did they notice? Do they care? No, of course they don't!
But... I've never been bothered by this, Hungary thought, replying to her outrage. I usually enjoy the solitude that cooking brings. What is wrong with me today? Everything seems to irritate me. This isn't like me; I'm usually cheerful and happy. I admit, I've been feeling ignored and used for a little while, but the boys are my friends. Am I over-reacting?
Today felt... wrong. It had felt that way ever since she awoke. Something had felt wrong when she arrived at Austria's door and let herself in. The feeling had grown as Hungary had slaved away over the stove, a hollow void that had settled in her heart. It was as if the years that had passed had all accumulated into this one day, and it was... boring, uneventful and... empty.
Yes, that was how she felt... empty. Alone and empty...
The bowl Hungary was holding suddenly fell to the floor, porcelain shattering into pieces at her feet. Hungary stared at the mess. She seemed to be a second behind the world today, as if the world was walking briskly and she was strolling behind. The void from before grew bigger in Hungary's chest. She didn't hear anyone call out to ask if she was OK.
Was this... depression? This feeling of intense loneliness, as if no one truly cared whether she lived or died... how long had she felt this way?
"Hungary?" someone asked at her side. She felt a hand settle on her shoulder, but she couldn't bring herself to see who it belonged to. It sounded like Austria.
I am empty. There are many citizens in my country, yet I feel so empty and alone. And no one can see that. They think I'm content to come and visit, to sit and listen as they talk endlessly, that I enjoy listening their constant arguments. I... I'm stuck in a routine that I can't escape. And no one cares. No one has asked me how I feel in years.
"Hungary, are you OK?"
"No," she blurted, her eyes still fixed on the broken porcelain. A single tear trickled from her left eye. "No I'm not OK." But you don't really care, do you?
"What's wrong?"
Everything. Nothing. "I don't know."
"Do you want to sit down?"
"I..." I don't know what's wrong. I can't explain, but I know that something is wrong. I'm... unhappy and I don't know why.
Somehow, Hungary found herself on the kitchen floor, her knees landing in the pieces of porcelain. Stinging cuts appeared on her skin, but Hungary didn't care. For some reason, she was crying. Her hands moved to cover her face as her tears flowed.
What is wrong with me? I have no reason to act this way. I have friends, I am still alive and I am free, and yet I'm crying. I feel empty, lost and alone. I... I don't know what is wrong, but no one can help me. No one understands. No one truly cares.
Strong arms pulled her up. Hungary found herself being carried away from the kitchen, her feet dangling in the air. The tears had blurred her vision; she couldn't identify who it was who carried her. Part of her didn't care. She didn't want to put on a charade anymore; she didn't want to pretend to care.
She felt something soft land underneath her. It felt like a mattress, but Hungary didn't care. She rolled over and found a pillow. She buried her face in its softness.
I don't care, she thought as she heard footsteps recede. I truly don't care anymore. I don't care about being here and seeing the boys. I don't care about Austria's piano. I don't care about Germany's freaky obsession with cleanliness. I don't care how awesome Prussia thinks he is. I just... don't... fucking... care anymore. No one cares about me. No one speaks to me and genuinely wants to know how I am. No one comes to visit me. No one cares that I exist.
With fresh tears spilling, Hungary grabbed the edge of the bed sheets and pulled them over her body, instantly becoming hot. It was difficult to breathe, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Her thoughts became darker and bleaker as she lay in a pile of sheets and clothes, somehow managing to fall asleep with her turmoil...
