Nihao, I am Wei Xiang, aru! Thanks for reading, and if you'd like a story written by me, then I would gladly make time to write your own love story. This story is for my friend, Noriko Matthews who is in her crazy Hetalia phase and is madly in love with Yao.

If you'd like a character (state/city) please read my profile and send me the information. I might ask you many random questions across writing, but in the end, I hope you enjoy the story of your own OC. Although I'm sure you can write it yourself, I hope you do credit me if you get the idea of writing a fanfic alike this project from reading this.

Enjoy and review, aru! C:

Chapter 1

"Hey, can't you stop your game for just one second?" bellowed an annoying older brother.

"What do you mean?" the girl wearing a black hat yelled back at her older brother—her voice muffled as she tried to choke down a piece of steam bread she had bitten earlier. Her body angled to the right as her hands jerked the game controller to the left. "Go, go, go!" she muttered quietly as she continued her argument with the older party, "Don't talk like you put your games down whenever I yell at you to take your shower!"

The older brother took a blow in his heart and silently crept away from the door which squeaked softly as he left. She pouted at the screen; It's not my fault, she thought trying to focus on her game, I'm so close until the final lap! With another swerve, this time her body angled left, she knocked down a stack of her manhwa (Korean comic books). They tumbled down as if they were stacked dominoes.

"Ugh," she said as she tried to fix her position to the center of the screen. I forgot about that stack… she said with worry as she remembered that she did not clean up earlier. She pushed away the thoughts of what other objects surrounded her—she had just reached past the halfway mark of the final lap. I'll check later after the race… she thought, licking her lips as if she tasted the victory near, and after my shower too.

"YESH!" she shouted in joy, standing up in an instant—both hands flung in the air. Her left hand held the game controller which had an extended cord attached just in case this would happen over and over again. She was in such joy, she smashed the game controller onto the ground and started to do a victory dance. Thank god her brother had gotten the floor thick carpeted—he couldn't stand buying new game controllers every time the two siblings broke one. Not even a nation was made out of luxurious everlasting money.

Her large sleeves slid down her arms and expressed ripe, bare arms. Even though she was a [Korean] gamer, she still went outside to play. From the room next door, she heard her brother give a large cry, "Hurry and make dinner!" She pouted, He should learn how to cook for himself once in a while….

"Yes, yes oppa," she sighed making her way to the bathroom. It was a bit bigger than one would expect—it was as big enough to fit the same sized tub already in there three times. Although it was big, it was easily cramped when items were poured in: a large laundry basket for dirty clothing which hired maids clean for them—the two siblings detested touching filthy clothing in the house—and then there was a rack which they put there sets of towels upon. Across was the sink which took up not that much space, surprisingly.

Locking the door firmly, the Korean girl began to take off her clothes. She set down the blank scrunchy and it landed with a clink as the white star interacted with the surface of the shelf. She hooked her cap on the hooker and brushed her long light auburn hair. She met a tangle and turned around to find it. Brushing aside all hair as she narrowed her search, she began to see an everlasting, red scar on her back that she has yet to show her brother.

Staring at the scar with stoic eyes, she remembered what happened on that chilling November day. She had just been visiting the capital, her land which she was named after, Seoul. That's when she saw army troops of both the Soviet Union and China. She was barricaded in her home along with the two leaders: Mr. Russia and Yao-oppa. The Korean girl believed that she would be safe as long as Yao-oppa was there, but she had been wrong.

When she wanted to escape a bit outside, she ventured a bit too far beyond the stores of her land to see a line of both Chinese and Russians bordering the outline of her capital. The people of the capital questioned her but she unfortunately did not understand—it wasn't easy to explain to a 6 year old girl, let alone ask for an explanation when she herself was confused. She shuddered when she felt a chubby hand clutch her shoulder—not in the slightest did it emanate warmth. "Where were you, Lan?" the sickly honey voice asked her as she shook under his hold. "China and I were worried."

"A-A-A-Ani (N-N-N-No)!" the frightened girl shook as she spoke through chattering teeth. "Naneun domangchiji anh-ass-eo (I didn't try to run away)!" she shrieked ever so loud. "Nal jug-yeo beoliji geulae (Don't kill me)!" she began to sob as the man wearing the scarf dragged her back to the house. She sobbed loud, big tears that slid on her cheek. "Oppa! Jong So Oppa!" she cried with desperation as her vision blurred with tears that continuously seeped out of the edges of her eyes to roll down into the middle of her bottom lid.

Back in the house, he threw her on a bed and locked the doors. "Russia, aru!" screamed a familiar voice.

"Yao-oppa!" she choked as Russia just turned his cold smile at the door.

"Russia, don't hurt her, aru!" the older brother pleaded, banging on the door. "Buyao daji ta (Don't strike her), aru!" he shouted in rapid Chinese. Russia turned his creepy smile back to Lan and ignored the continuous shouts of the Chinese man. He pushed her down onto her stomach and took off the belt which held her clothes up in it's usual position. Then, he pulled up the long robes. "ANDWAE!" she shouted when she felt the cool wind against her back. She caught a glimpse of metal in the light and wasn't even given a moment to think when something hard and cold struck her back.

"UWAAAAAAAAAAAA!" she screamed with the impact. Why didn't he warn her at least? "ANI! ANDWAE!" she cried as she felt the pain crush her back. She didn't want to get another beating; nonetheless, she screamed. "ANDWAE! Jeongmal silh-eo (I hate it)," she sobbed and choked with her last words. It hurt and made her head spin. She was confused: why did it bother Mr. Russia so much when she only ventured out in her own capital. "Andwae," she heaved as she felt her legs go numb.

"RUSSIA, ARU!" bellowed an ever growing angry Chinese man outside. Russia left the girl to endure the cold and pain as he went to the door. He opened it and saw the Chinese man drenched in sweat and huffing out tired breaths. The Chinese man's eyes landed on the anguishing girl then traveled in horror to Russia's hand—a cold, iron water pipe plain in view. Before he could move, the Russian had already walked past and down the hall.

China pounded his fist on the door as he glared at the ground. Then, inhaling, he closed the door and locked it. He went to the bookshelf and extracted a first aid kit on the bottom shelf at a small height so that anyone could reach it. He walked over to Lan and sat on the bed beside her. She could not see her back, but she knew it was red. She had learned that anything injured turned blue, red, purple, or black. And usually, things became red … because of blood.

"Oppa," she muttered, her stoic eyes staring at his general direction although she could only see his knees covered by the red gown. She felt something cold brush against her back as it swept her wound clean.

"Nihao, Lan," he said in a calm, gentle voice. "Hen baoquian (I'm sorry)," he apologized. "It might hurt a bit, aru, but you can endure a bit more right? It'll heal, wo daying (I promise), aru." the Chinese man said, brushing her back gently.

With dulled eyes, the Korean girl believed she could feel no more pain anyhow, she answered quietly, "A-Al-ass-eo (o-okay)…."

Not wanting to reminisce the pain she had endured after for the healing, [present] Lan stepped into the tub and turned on the shower to hot. It smothered her in smoke and she calmed down—her bangs covering her bright auburn eyes. They were brighter than her brothers—they shone and stood out more, yet he was the more outgoing. It wasn't like she didn't want to make friends; she just had trouble talking to strangers sometimes. Not really being shy but a small weakness.

Lan felt so lazy; she didn't want to drench her hair in shampoo. But then her brother would complain—apparently he sniffs her hair to check if she doesn't wash her hair sometimes cuz she always tried to skip it in the past. "Gah, whatever!" she said, dumping half a hand full of soap in her hand and then mixing it in her hair. She tried to get every corner of her scalp before crumpling her hair into a ball and covering every inch of her hair.

A memory of the past made her smile sadly when she remembered she had to wash her hair with the scar still opened. Yao had to help her wash her hair while she wore a bathing suit and a plastic bag—yes, she was that small. It would make her jolt every time Yao brushed the soft sponge on her back. She had learned to endure the pain by biting her lip which resulted into dry and broken lip skin. She rinsed her hair in hot water before turning it down and then the cold water washed her hair. She made sure to get every corner once more before stepping out onto the laid out towel of the floor and grabbing a towel to shield her bother and dry herself properly.

She rushed in her clothes once she believed she was dry and quickly brushed through her hair with a brush. Picking up a new clean towel, she laid it over her shoulders and used pins to hold up her hair. She flung open the door, snapped shut the lights, and her feet guided her to her brothers room. She hugged him from behind and said, "Anyo, what you want for dinner?"

"Lan!" he said in amazement as he tilted his head upward.

A wet droplet landed on his cheek and he said with a faint irritation, "Ya, ya! You're gonna get the work papers wet."

Letting go of her brother, with her hands in the air as if she were arrested, she said, "Mianhae (Sorry)!" She back traced and before leaving, she asked once more, "What you want for dinner?"

"Kimchi, I guess," he said absentmindedly as he tried to reorganize his work papers.

"Okay," she nodded heading out. Traveling down the long hallway, Lan recalled something. With a sad expression, she thought, Oh yeah…the world conference. It's only in a few days. I shall be alone once again.