"Are you sure this is a good idea, Bruder? It could be very dangerous." Switzerland stopped polishing his rifles to look at Liechtenstein. Her green eyes were worried. "You or someone else could get really hurt."

He sighed-he knew she meant well, and he appreciated her concern, but there were things he had to do. "It'll be fine, okay? As long as you stay behind the range, and no one does anything stupid-especially Finland." The blond didn't really think he was one of the dumber idiots, but he was going to be armed as well. You never know.

They went out to the back field, where targets had already been set up. Two groups of people had been formed-one betting on the trigger-happy nation, the other betting on the generally happy nation. America was going around and writing down the bets, while England and France were at it again; this time, it was who the better shot was. Switzerland rolled his eyes.

Truth be told, the only reason he was doing this shoot-out against Finland was because for some insane reason, Denmark and Prussia were arguing about it first. One thing led to another-next thing he knew, he was being offered a free lunch out and part of the bet money if he'd beat Finland at the range. And as much as he wanted nothing to do with this stupid bet, free was free, and money was money.

Meanwhile, his opponent was nervously pacing around the grass. The other Nordics could hear him muttering to himself as he constantly worried. "What if someone gets hurt? What if a bullet goes somewhere and hits someone? I shouldn't be doing this! Denmark," Finland said finally, "do I really have to do this?" "Yeah, of course! You have to prove the Nordic superiority to the rest of those Europeans!" The Dane grinned, and pat him roughly on the back-which caused Finland to wince at the force and earned a hard glare from Sweden. "G't y'r h'nd off m' w'f'."

"Whatever, man! Anyways, I'd do it myself to rub it in Prussia's unawesome face, but I can't shoot like you, especially when you were up against that freaking Russian-" And this was where Norway smacked him on the head, hard. "Idiot. Don't bring things like that up. It's not something to joke about." Finland gave him a thankful look. "Besides, you only care about proving yourself, not the rest of us."

"Well, the king of Scandinavia always has to look his best and have a good reputation!" Before a fight could break out, Iceland finally stepped in and took them away, leaving Sweden and Finland. The taller man looked down at Finland, letting a hint of worry show on his face.

"Y' g'nna b' 'kay, Fin?" He sighed, but nodded. "I really don't want to do this, but everyone's started betting, and I don't want to back out this late, you know?" Sweden grunted with a slight nod. "It's not like I can't handle myself, although I don't want to see Switzerland's rifle up close and personal," he chuckled at his own joke, but Sweden put a hand on his shoulder suddenly, making him jump. "J'st lookin' out f'r y'."

He smiled lightly. "Thanks, Su-san."

"All right, dudes! Time for the ultimate showdown!" America had found a megahorn somewhere, to the dismay of most of the nations, and his voice boomed over everyone. "Get ready for the awesomest competiton of your lives!"

"Yes, and this competition might as well be the end of our lives," England muttered, as everyone started to gather round. Unfortunately, America had heard him and yelled in his ear, "Come on, live a little, Bushy Brows!"

"My bloody ears! Fucking git, you still have the megahorn!"

"Can we get started already?" Switzerland spun around, rifle in arm, "Or I'll aim this at you instead of the target." The other nations laughed nervously; an angry Swiss witha gun did not mean high survival rates. America smiled widely anyways, and said, "All right! Everyone, get behind the person you're betting on so we can see the groups for the bet money."

The groups were fairly equal. Finland looked back at his best friend, Estonia, who was there with Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland. However, he noticed Russia and his sisters in surprise. He was giving him a creepy smile. "Russia? I thought you'd still be mad from the Winter War…"

"Nyet, I got part of Karelia. And besides, if I root for you, then maybe you'll become one with Russia again, da?" It was now that the other Nordics stepped up-especially Sweden. But Russia just stepped back with that weird smile. Finland went to his station, positioning his rifle.

On the other side, Switzerland was doing the same, ignoring Germany yelling at Italy's attempts to run away from from the guns, and Romano's yelling at Spain because both France and Prussia were rooting for the Swiss. Imbeciles. They'd never learn unless he resorted to force. The cartridge was loaded, five bullets ready to be fired.

Throughout the chaos, Liechtenstein had been by his side. Now, she stepped up to him, and shyly tapped his shoulder. "Bruder? I wanted to give you something for good luck…" she said, with a blush on her face, "If that's okay with you." And a kiss was bestowed upon his cheek from the little girl. As she ran away, he blushed where the kiss was. She really was cute sometimes.

"Okay, guys, you know the rules. Five bullets only, aim at your own target, and try not to kill anyone. The person who gets the most bullets near the center wins. Finland, you're up first!" America and Denmark gave him a thumbs-up, while his rooting party got Finnish flags all of a sudden. The small man lined himself up, looking through his iron sights.

Days of coldness in the war came back to him, when he worked as a sniper. Those feelings came back now, as he concentrated and aimed. It had to be perfect. The brief silence was deafening, as everyone held their breath. How high would he set the bar?

Smoke filled the air, along with the cracking of bullets and screams of frightened countries. It was a clatter, and no one could see until the smoke had cleared up. And when it did, silence filled the air at the sight. Seriously?

"…dude, I can cover all of these shots with my palm. That's mad scary, Finland." America counted the five bullet holes… in the direct center. "Wow…" Finland just looked away and started chatting it off nervously, while the crowd burst into loud claps and shouts. Sweden put his hand on his "wife's" shoulder again, and Denmark shouted to Prussia. "Beat that!"

Switzerland scowled, as he started lining himself up. Normally, he wasn't very competitive, but Finland just might take his free lunch and money away. That would not be good. So be had to be even better than the Finn. If America's palm could cover his shots, then he'd make it so a quarter could cover all his shots.

Silence filled the air again; anticipation and nerves ran high. The tension was so thick that it was hard to swallow. Everyone had their eyes on Switzerland. Hearts pounded furiously. He tried to imagine that it was his mercenary days again, when he worked hard for hire. Finally, the shots sounded, smoke choked the air, and screams came back. Where were the bullets? Who would win?

"…"

"…well, then… I think we have a winner." The countries stared at Switzerland's target… in shock.

Only two of the bullets had landed. And they were nowhere near the center.

"Congrats, Finland! You won!" America then tossed the smiling nation into the air, where everyone carried him around. Switzerland could only look as his reason for even doing this stupid thing and embarrassing himself disappeared. The shouts of Denmark and Prussia filled the air.

"Told ya that Finny would beat ole Switzy!"

"Shut the fuck up! This is too unawesome for me! I'm out!" Switzerland sighed, pissed at himself and the world.

To say the least, it was a shot to the heart.