Okay, hi this is iloveumbreon123. This is kinda a special story, it's a collab between me and one of ny friends. She's posting it on her wattpad account, which is Shipper_Of_Justice, apparently. So, read on and please review!

disclaimer: If I owned hetalia, I wouldn't be here, now would I...

I sighed and inhaled the wafting scent of the blooming sakura tree. I wasn't ready to let it all go, I would surely miss Japan head to toe. Three months of absolute torture was in store with hairy women, constant flirting, and the worst of it all: socialising. I shuddered at the very thought of the obnoxious chattering of other people ripping through the silence I cherished. I could only pray that no one would dare touch me, human contact made me weak in the knees and get an aching migraine on the spot. I gripped my Free! Iwatobi swim club Haru body pillow even harder; dreading the days to come. I flopped down onto my vocaloid bed spread looking at the blank walls that were once adorned with practically millions of posters. All of my furniture (other than my bed) was already in France awaiting my arrival. My thoughts slowly drifting from France to Love Stage to finally a yaoi filled sleep.

I awoke only to regret and try to snuggle and immerse myself in a worry free state, but no avail. I slowly shook my head and stepped out into the hallway, I was greeted by the smell of Miso soup. I slowly made my descent into the kitchen to be greeted by my mother serving each bowl of the soup to my siblings. They quickly gobbled down their breakfast, well all but Yao who was not so secretly complaining to his boyfriend Braginsky-san by texting him under the table. I felt a surge of despair bubble in his gut, I would miss all my brothers and sister deeply. I then found my place under the cramped kotatsu and dug into the bowl my mother set before me. "Today's the day!" she beamed down at me. I did not answer for I was trying to beat my record of not speaking for four months straight.I only nodded and continued eating.

After I pulled on the westerner outfit I had bought days before. It was a Prussian blue flannel which I had completely buttoned up, accompanied by grey jeans which were much too tight for my liking, and topped off with a pair of black Converse. I hated it. Western clothing was annoying and uncomfortable to wear. I wished I could pull on a comfortable yukata and called it done. I went back down to the living room to see all of my family lined up ready to see me off. I waved to them and offered up a small smile before I followed the butler out the door to the limousine awaiting me. As I watched the house that I hadn't left for 3 years disappear from my view. A blur of lights and the sound of crumbling gravel swamped me, whisking me away to an unfamiliar place. After an hour of driving we stopped at a large building I presumed the airport. As I took a step out I abandoned the place and home I knew.

I took a deep breathe and went to the luggage department. I made sure I wasn't completely clueless and researched immensely on the impossible task of an airport. After loading my luggage I swiftly gazed at the ground and weaved my way through the swarm of humans, so large it was as if I had been thrown into a large sea with only a lifejacket. It took me thirty minutes to make my way to security and an additional twenty to pass through. I sighed in relief as I put my shoes back on. The worst part was over, or so I thought. After waiting an hour for my flight I boarded. I sat in the very back, rubbing my temples to soothe the headache caused by the masses of people that surrounded me. As others boarded the plane became more and more full. Then the one thing I had truly dreaded happened. Someone sat next to me.

I started sweating. It would take roughly 13 hours to reach Paris and I would be seated next to a complete stranger. I slowly turned my head to see a Spanish man on the phone with a what seemed like a screaming male with an Italian accent. The Spaniard only seemed to laugh off the obviously angered man. My thoughts raced maybe he was a freak, he could be a drug dealer, or the worst murderer. My palms instantly became even more sweaty and I cursed my overactive imagination. He was probably was just another ordinary citizen on his way to Paris, just like me. Yet as the conversation went on I heard small tidbits of the discussion "Tomato bastard!" seemed to be the most common phrase used. I was caught off guard when the man then turned at looked at me. I flushed, knowing I had been caught staring, and turned to the window. He then resumed his banter with the angered Italian and did not bother me.

I buckled my seatbelt and took out the pamphlet telling me all the possible situations and how to react, and I paled. Then I heard a deep rumbling and I looked outside. We were moving. I watched as the plane grew in speed unroll it raised off the ground. First a few inches then a few feet unroll we were soaring. I knot grew in my stomach as cars turned into little bugs under my feet. It was beautiful, all the tall skyscrapers reaching for the never-ending sky, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I watched in awe as the city I spent my entire life slowly disappeared from sight. I sighed and sunk down into my seat, watched the city lights fade and slowly the land turned to sea. The sky waitresses and waiter came with menus then came back to see who wanted what.

"Excuse me sir" I saw her reflection in the window, she was addressing me. Panic spread through my entire body as I hesitantly turned towards her. She looked at me expectantly obviously waiting for my answer. I tensed and opened my mouth trying to say water, but nothing. I tried again this time the Spaniard looked at me as i silently mouth words.

"Are you ok me amigo?" He questioned raising his eyebrow. My eyes widened in dismay, I was screwed. I then panicked trying to gesture to what I wanted but the both of them just stared. The growing dread knotted in my stomach, they now looked at me with terror and confusion.

"Whiskey?"

"Orange juice?" the two blurted out at the same time.

I promptly shook my head, but the two were already arguing. I sighed, not really wanting to talk, but having no choice. As the two bantered on, finally deciding I would want a pina colada, I tried to speak once more.

"Water," My voice was weak, and rough from lack of use. They both turned, quickly staring like dopes. I stiffly turned back to the window, ignoring the gaping strangers.

I later got the water without a word. I sipped on it as I watched the sun set amongst the golden clouds blanketing the sky. It was one of the most magnificent things I had ever seen, other than the first time I found yaoi but that's a different story.

I had barely noticed when the plane stopped. Passengers started to exit as I came back to reality. I stood up only to realize my left leg had fallen asleep at some point during the thirteen hour flight.

"Espoir vous avez apprécié votre vol . Merci pour l'équitation air mégot de sexe!" the flight attendant chirped out.

I waited until most of the passengers had bustled out, including my seat mate. I grabbed my carry on I swiftly exited.

"Bonjour et bienvenue à Paris." she said as I exited. As passed through to the security towards the luggage claim. I searched amongst the bags, when I saw the GraTsu design I made myself I sighed and grabbed my luggage. Leaving the crowded airport I stepped out into the warm summer night of Paris. Then it hit me, I, Kiku the otaku NEET, was alone in France. I barely even knew French! Internally having a meltdown, I called a cab and headed of to my home for three months. I staggered over to the counter woman, frazzled and emotionally drained, preparing to speak again. I was pleasantly surprised when she gave me a key already knowing who I was.

"Votre chambre est numer soixante." she said, bored. I roughly translated it to 'your room number is sixty.' I punched in the number two into the elevator, then stepped into the long corridor. I found my room and opened the room to be greeted by darkness and boxes. I was greeted by my temporary home.