I re-wrote this. Big thanks to 'Master of Wishes', for giving me a shove - thank you again. Now, on we go!

"Damn idiots," a young asian lady, probably no more than twenty-three years old, scowled as she kicked off her worn heels and stomped into the home. "Why bother being an accountant when it's so obvious that math was never your forte?" She added huffily as she continued on deeper into her quaint, little home.

Slamming on the light switch, Emile Chang stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She glared at her reflection for a moment before heaving a sigh. She shut the door behind her while un-doing the clip that held her wavy, thick brown locks together in a messy bun. After stripping, Emile continued on with her shower.

Once she was dressed in her warm yellow fleece set pyjamas, Emile plopped down in front of her computer. There, she typed away furiously, hurrying to finish some unfinished business concerning her nine-to-five accounting job at the 'Apple Trees' publishing company.

By the time all the numbers had been counted up and put together in a no-less-than-perfect manner, it was already nine o' clock at night. Getting up from her seat, Emile sauntered into the kitchen where she stuffed Monday's leftover curry and rice into the microwave. Thank goodness to whoever invented curry and the refrigerator. It was an easy fix on nights where there was no time to cook, since curry could last for a pretty long time and rice was no problem. It was probably all the rich food and late meals that was making the asian woman chubbier as the months went by.

While waiting for the microwave to give it's familiar sequence of beeps, the house phone started to ring. In an empty and small space, the noise was loud and made Emile's ears ring. She cursed, wondering who would call her at 'such an obscene hour'. To her and her traditional ways, nine o' clock was very late at night. Nevertheless, Emile grabbed the guilty phone, pressed the proper button and held it to her ear. "Hello?" She grumbled in her smooth, deeper-than-average voice.

"Emile!" Came a high-pitched shrill on the other line.

Emile winced a little and held the phone a little ways from her ear,"Good evening, niece, how are you?"

"I told you not to, like call me 'niece', why can't you call me by my name? Do you even remember my name?" The other girl sounded irritated.

"We've gone over this many times, it's only respectful to call you that! Yes, I do remember your name, how could I forget if you keep reminding me every time I see you? Now, at least try to show some respect for your elders, Alicia." Emile looked up as the microwave beeped. She moved towards it."Now, what's wrong?"

"I know that you really love those, you know, Japanese cartoons-"

"Anime. Please, don't be so loud-"

"Whatever, but, like, a friend of mine, right? Well, she's really into those stuff too, so she recommended me this one series and she said it was uber good and stuff. I couldn't watch it on Youtube, cuz' it's, like, rated for 18 year olds and above, so I watched it some where else." Emile listened to the voice as she removed her dinner from the microwave and dug a spoon into it.

"Alicia, you're only fourteen, you shouldn't be watching those things regardless," Emile huffed, picking up a spoonful of spicy goodness, "You should be more focused on your studies!" She took a bite.

"Oh, you're such a hypocrite, Emile-"

"Jie Jie*."

"It's not like you don't do it yourself! But anyway, so I was watching it and I watched it all in one day - it's so funny and stuff! You should totally watch. It's amazing and all the guys are so hot and it teaches you history and stuff!"

"You know I don't like history." Emile told her niece, propping an elbow up on the laminate counter.

"I know, I know! But it's so funny, it's so totally worth it! Please watch it, come on, please? Pretty please, please, please?"

Emile paused before sighing, nothing wrong with trying. "Alright, I'll watch it." She held the phone away from her ear some more.

The expected shriek rang from the phone, "That's great! It's called Hetalia:Axis Powers. H-E-T-A-L-I-A, Hetalia, you should know how to spell the rest - English is your favorite after all. Just keep watching though, the first few episodes are really rushed. Oh! I got to go, mum's demanding me do my homework and blah blah, you know, the usual stuff! Bye!" Alicia hung up.

Thus began Emile's obsession with Hetalia.

Two Weeks After...

Now, Emile had never been the one for buying any of the anime merchandises. She preferred to keep her hobby in the closet and out of her life. However, Hetalia would have the exception for she found accents to be utterly irresistible. Therefore, the moment word of an English dub for Hetalia complete with the accents reached her ears, Emile instantly ordered it. Of course, she did so with a rather large cringe. The price was not pretty and it was going to leave a dent in her savings.

"It'll be worth it. It'll be worth it! Come on, you've already come so far..." Emile bit her bottom lip, the hand icon was over the 'Confirm' sign, but her finger lingered over the magical button. "Oh, this is ridiculous, if I'm going to buy it and I'm going to make my money's worth so...I might as well quit the dramatics and get on with it..." She trailed off and clicked.

In roughly five to ten business days, the prized DVD's would arrive at her doorstep. The only thing to do now was to mark off each passing day on her calendar.

On day eight, Emile sat by the windows that looked down the long stretch of icy road and watched as a truck, burgundy in colour, chugged down the street. Tapping her foot and twiddling her thumbs with anxiety, she watched the truck stop by her driveway. The driver, clad in a black jacket and jeans, climbed out. Emile hadn't waited to watch him bring out the goods from the van. Instead, she had made a beeline for the door. Heart beating with excitement, Emile felt like a young girl on Christmas Day as she yanked at the door.

The door did not budge.

Cursing the cold, she gave another heave and the door opened with a loud crack. She shuddered as the cold easily pierced through her bathrobe. The week's weather had been nothing short of absolutely horrible, everything had frozen up, and within a day, the whole city was blanketed in a thick layer of snow.

The worker walked up to her porch, pushing a large box on one of those wheeling devices. "Delivery for...Emile Chang?" He asked.

Emile was confused. There was no way in hell that a simple DVD could be so god damn huge. "That's right," She replied, "But I didn't order...that thing."

"Well, it's addressed to you." Was his curt reply. "Look, you can take it now and than call the company or something."

Was this the type of service that's common among deliverymen? Emile shot the man a glare, "Alright, could you move it into the house, please?"

"Sure. Whatever you say lady."

After some short bickering here and there, the worker left the box in the middle of her living room and left. Emile scowled as snow started to melt and water collected into small puddles on her precious hard wood floors. Stooping down, she wiped them up with paper towels, before turning to the big problem at hand.

The box was pretty big, and from the looks of it, pretty heavy too. There was two holes punched into each side of the box, along with a small package strapped to it. Emile opted to retrieve the smaller package first.

Inside the smaller package was the thing she actually bought - the DVD. Also in the package was a small booklet. It was plain, and looked like the manual that came with IKEA furniture (to which she instantly had a picture of Sweden in her head). Written in bold font on the front page was "IVAN BRAGINSKI: User Guide and Manual", below it "LolliDictator Inc." was written in smaller font.

Upon obtaining such a ridiculously titled book, which was so obviously just an extra that came along with the DVD because there was no way in hell that anything else could possibly happen, Emile laughed out loud. "This is horrible," She snorted, thumbing through the book. "Who needs a manual for that? It's probably just a...life-size doll." She turned to the back of the book, but it was blank. Emile decided that there was no harm in reading the thing, so she sat down on the floor (with her legs crossed and back straight, of course) and started to read.

The content within the book was nothing less than eyebrow raising. "They make it sound like this is a robot." Emile said to herself. Living alone seemed to have that kind of effect on her. Since she was never the social type, talking to herself seemed to become a habit. "This could be fun," She countinued, peering up from the book and at the large box. "If it's real. A robot version of Russia. It's probably just going to be standing there and scaring people as they walk by - one of those Halloween installments." She paused, and took a deep breath, her curiosity was building. "Might as well...turn it on. Uh..." She looked down at the manual once more and frowned.

Why the hell did the author assume that everybody could read Russian?

Emile grumbled and decided to try another way, she looked up at the box and took a breath. "Belarus?" She said, feeling incredibly stupid. "Belarus. Belarus! Belarus!"

Nothing.

"God damn it, BROTHER!"Emile was starting to feel as though she had just made a big fool out of herself - it was a good thing she was alone.

Silence. Nothing but complete and beautiful silence.

But than no, slowly, very slowly, there came a whimper, a sob and a muffled cry.

Emile jumped up in fright and moved towards the box. Her curiosity was at its peak, this doll was impressive! Technology now-a-days. Voice activated dolls, thrilling, really! Her fingers fumbled with the steel latch, a broad grin was plastered on her face. She finally managed to crack open the top and flipped the lid.

Brown met violet eyes, and they were very, very, very real.

"You're not Natalya!" The doll - person - robot - thing cried in a very real, heavily accented voice.

To which, Emile let out a choked screech and leaped back, pressing her back against the wall. "You...You're...!" She stared, wide-eyed at the pale-headed, absolutely enormous man in front of her.

The...thing stood up and a number of items fell from his lap. "I'm so glad you're not my little sister!"

"R-Ru...Russia! Fff...What the hell are you doing here?" That was probably a very stupid question, but what else could she say? Here, standing before her, was the creepiest god damn country in the series!

Ivan - Russia - seemed amused. He looked around, "A very pretty house. It will be one with Mother Russia, da?"

Emile was on the verge of a panic attack. They weren't suppose to exist. Ivan was obviously not a doll, and even she knew that technology had not advanced far enough for a self-thinking robot. "Get back in the box, now, please, right now." She said, pointing to the box with one hand while she dug into her pocket for her cellphone in the other. "In! Turn off. Off, whatever! What the hell!" She fumbled with the cellphone, trying to call the Customer's Service number on the manual.

Of course, she would of succeeded, if Ivan hadn't started to do his trademark "I'm-going-to-murder-you-in-your-sleep" warning laugh...grumble thing.

"H'okay, h'okay, calm down, you. Calm down." Emile found herself saying, with a slight tremor in her tone.

Instantly, the smile returned to his face, "Maybe you should try that first, da?"

Lost of words, Emile decided on the whim that she would let him stay the night. Just one night, because the very moment she was alone in her room, she was going to call Customer's Service and they'll realized their mistake.

"Basement." Emile exclaimed, struggling to maintain her cool. "There's a room, you can use - in the basement."

Ivan did not seem pleased, "Why the basement? Are you implying something?"

Emile swallowed thickly, "What? Of course not! I just thought that you might like the...bright yellow room there! Ahahaha..."

"Oh, yellow is such a cheerful and sunny colour, da?" Ivan grinned as he gathered up his belongings (vodka, another uniform and a faucet pipe).

"Yes, yes, it is." Emile agreed with a underlying tone of terror in her voice. Okay, so she would be sleeping on the second floor, that left only one floor to separate them. Tonight would be a bad night. "This way, this way...Oh, please take off your shoes too."

"Why?"

"You don't want to dirty the, uh, yellow-ish carpet too, right? It's also an Asian culture."

"Asian? Like Yao~"

"Sure..." Emile mumbled.

Oh yeah. That night, she would have to sleep with one - if not both - eyes wide open. Thank god it was a weekend the next morning.