Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, but if I did all my money would go towards Hetalia Units! So, you guys made me so happy with all the favorites, follows, and reviews on the last chapter. Seriously, I was smiling all day today because of it! So, here is the next chapter! There is important stuff at the end of this, so please read that author note too. Thanks for reading and enjoy!


"Here you are Miss, the pillow you asked for," a flight attendant said to me. I thanked her quietly and gently took the pillow. She nodded and walked away, leaving me to my thoughts. There was no one with me in the two person row, so I was left to having a conversation with myself. I quickly tucked the pillow behind my neck and reclined my chair slightly, trying to stay mindful of the people behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to get some much needed sleep for the rest of the ride.

Ok, that idea really didn't work, which left me bored and alone for a plane ride that was over five hours long. I glanced around, looking for something to do, when my eyes landed on my duffel bag. Well, I did put some books in there for this exact purpose; I might as well start reading them. Once I had the duffel bag in my lap I began to rummage through it. Eventually I found a large scrapbook I didn't remember packing. I pulled it out slowly and noticed the sticky note on the front cover.

(Y/N),

Thought you might want this. It will prove helpful once you get to the mansion.

-Auntie Kiki

I smiled and carefully placed the sticky note in my bag, not wanting to lose it any time soon. I looked at the front cover and saw that it had different flags on it, all of which were surrounding the word "Family". There were three Italian flags, one German, one English, one American, one Canadian, an old Prussian flag, and a Holy Roman Empire flag. I opened the front cover and gasped.

The first picture was of my grandmother and aunt, only younger and surrounded by Hetalia characters. I recognized Italy, two Romanos, Germany, Prussia, and Canada. The only ones I didn't recognize was one who seemed like a younger version of Germany, a man with strawberry blond hair and England's eyebrows, and another man with America's jacket and red hair. They all looked really happy in the picture, especially my grandmother. She looked happier than she has ever been.

I quickly flick through the rest of the pictures, coming across so many more with them. I learn the strawberry blonde is Oliver, the red head is Allen, and the Germany look alike is Al. I quickly recognized Allen and Oliver as second players and became even more curious. Soon the others have names too and I finally know who the men from the stories are. They're Hetalia characters, this whole time they were Hetalia characters. I go through the book and take in all the pictures, recognizing some as real life scenes from grandma's stories. There's one though that catches my attention.

It has grandma, but none of the Hetalia characters are there. Instead, there is a guy with sandy blonde hair and a girl with short black hair. Grandma is laughing, the other girl has an amused smile, and the guy has a confidant smirk on his face. The caption reads "Sarah, Carlson, and Kiersten celebrating the 100th joke." What's that about? The 100th joke about what? I shrug and continue on through the scrapbook, smiling as I relive my grandmother's tales. I went through the scrapbook with two hours left of the plane ride. I ended up falling asleep with the scrapbook clutched to my body, like I thought I was going to lose it or something.

The jolting of the plane landing is what woke me up. I had to quickly wipe the sleep from my eyes as the plane went towards the gate. My leg bounced impatiently as the plane went through final checks before finally opening the door and letting us leave. I rushed off the plane as fast as I could and walked into the airport. There were lots of people around me, but I didn't pay attention to them, I focused on getting to the front of the airport.

My battle through the airport was intense. I was constantly excusing myself and apologizing as I moved through the crowds. One man tried to take something from my duffel bag, but I caught him in the act and he ran. Another couple asked me to say random words for them, enraptured by my accent. Dear lord, Americans are ridiculous. Don't they realize that they're the ones with an accent from my point of view? You don't hear me going around and asking the Americans to say howdy!

Finally I made it to the front of the airport and began searching for the taxi arranged for me. I saw a man with a sign that had my name on it. He looked a lot like that guy from the photo I saw, from the confidant smile to the sandy blonde hair, despite being as old as my grandmother was. He was standing in front of an old looking SUV and was searching the crowd. I walked up next to him and tapped his shoulder. "This may sound weird, but is your name Carlson?" I ask him.

He looks over at me and smiles, pulling me into a hug. I instantly freeze up and panic, a strange man was hugging me and I was freaking. "It's so good to see you again (Y/N)! You probably don't remember me, since the last time you were here you were a baby. To answer the question, yes, I am Carlson," he says. He puts me down and grabs my duffel bag, throwing it into the back seat of the car. "Come on, we got to get you to the mansion."

I nod and climb into the passenger seat, which honestly confuses me because it is on the wrong side. The cars in London have the drivers on the right and passengers on the left, but it is switched here in America. Even the side of the road you drive on is switched; I nearly had a heart attack because I thought the man was driving in the wrong lane. "So, how long have you known my grandmother?" I ask, trying to break the ice.

"I've known her since high school. We had theatre together, but one day she told everyone off and quit. We hung out after school and kept in touch when we graduated. Man, she was a bunch of fun; it's hard to believe she's gone. You know, you look just like her," he says, rambling slightly.

"I've heard that a lot, actually. I don't really see the resemblance, but others do," I tell him. He takes his eyes off the road long enough to give me an incredulous look. I shift awkwardly as he looks back at the road.

"Now, that's not true at all. You have the same hair and eyes hell; even your face is shaped the same as when she was your age," he protests. I sigh and shrug my shoulders, allowing a silence to fall over us. The scenery flashes by, changing from city to suburb in about twenty minutes. I decide to break the silence again by asking a question that has been nagging at me.

"Hey, I happen to have this scrapbook with me. In it is a picture of you, my grandmother, and a girl named Kiersten and you all look happy. The caption said it was the 100th joke. I was wondering, what was it the 100th joke of?" I ask him.

Carlson starts cracking up at the wheel and practically doubles over his wheel. "Oh man, she still had that? We had this contest going to see how many Jew jokes we could get through before the end of the year. Our goal was 100, so when we reached it we had Oliver take a picture of us as celebration," he explained. He wiped away a tear and chuckled some more.

I couldn't help but smile as well; his laugh was pretty infectious. I noticed the car pull into a fancy looking neighborhood and go towards the very end of one of the streets. "Which house is mine?" I ask him.

"This one," he says, pulling up to one of the larger houses. It has two stories and a separate garage. I can tell there are a lot of rooms, because of all the windows, but none of the lights are on. Carlson pulls into the driveway and parks the car. He gets out without a word and pulls my duffel bag from the back seat. I hop out and stand by my closed door, staring up at the house. "Well, this is where I leave you. This is actually Sarah's old car, mine is on the street over there. Keys are under the mat on the side door, the alarm isn't on, and this is where I leave you. I'll send my grandson over later if you need it. Good luck (Y/N)," he tells me. With those final words Carlson walks away, towards his car, and leaves me in the driveway.

I sigh and pick up my duffel bag, no point in staying out here. I walked over to the door and lifted up the mat to grab the key. The lock was rusty, but at least it worked. I kept the key with me when I walked into the house, locking the door behind me. Looking around, I realized I was in a kitchen, an old one too. All the equipment in here was from when my grandmother was younger, there was even a microwave.

I made my way through the kitchen and found myself in a living room. I was too tired to explore though, so I went down the first hall on the left. The first door had my grandmother's name on it, so I decided to crash there for the night. I instantly collapsed on the bed and decided I would explore tomorrow before falling into a grateful sleep.


I promise the units will show up in the next chapter, or at least one of them will! I promise! Anyway, two things to tell you guys! The first thing is that I want to know what units you guys would like to see. When deciding, please keep in mind that I do accept second players and all that. Second thing, you guys should totally go read the story by MemeTeamers, they are a new author on here and I know y'all are going to have fun with their story. That's everything for now. Thanks for reading, comment on your thoughts, and look forward to the next chapter.