If My Sister Were Here

by Whitlinger

What do you do when you meet a bunch of Hetalia characters at your new school and they won't admit who they are? You follow them, infiltrate their home and eavesdrop on their conversations, of course. Only what I found out was slightly different from what I expected. A world apocalypse doesn't come along everyday, does it? An OC experiment.

3. Iggy's House

*Hey there! You're probably surprised to find this up again so soon, so I'll do some explaining. Last night I uploaded a third chapter, but for some reason I couldn't find my story at the top of the page and when I checked it, it only had two chapters. So I uploaded the chapter again. And again. And again. Obviously, I failed. But this morning I received new reviews, follows and favorites, which means this story was at the top of the page but the new chapter wasn't there. Strange, huh?

* But anyway, thank you so much for supporting me! I'm happy I have another chapter ready for you guys. I was going to abandon this story (it was just an experiment), but I decided not to. XD

*And a favor to ask: if you notice Sophie developing any Mary Sue symptoms, please alert me.

*So...long chapter. When did I start writing 5000+ word chapters?

*Enjoy! ^ ^

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CHAPTER THREE

'Why are you here?' England spat bitterly, scowling at the beautiful nation standing before him. 'You've already got your bloody independence, isn't that enough?'

'I need to tell you something,' Sira said. 'It's extremely important, so...' She looked into his house, a nervous expression plastered on her face. '...can I come in?'

He stared at her for a few seconds before sighing heavily, moving away from the doorway. 'Alright. It's going to rain soon, anyway.'

Cautiously she stepped inside, her heart pounding. Technically they were allies. But they still hated each other, bitter from the long, bloody war still fresh in their minds. Was it really safe?

Sira moved further into the living room, still wary. When nothing seemed suspicious or threatening, she finally sank into England's sofa and waited. He shut the door and sat down across from her. And then he began to wait, too.

After a long, awkward silence, Sira finally spoke. 'Someone's after me, England.'

England frowned. 'Who would be after you? No one here can possibly know about us being countries.'

'I'm not entirely sure,' she said. 'but I've been attacked a couple of times now. Sometimes I get the feeling I'm being followed. And yesterday when I returned home, my room was a mess.'

'That can't be,' he said. 'I set some spells to hide our location. No one should be able to find us...'

'...unless they follow one of us,' Sira finished. 'It's possible. Your magic isn't perfect.'

England bristled at the comment. 'What do mean, my magic isn't perfect? It's good enough and the only defense we have!'

'I know, I know.' She sighed. 'My point is, I think they're after the dice. What other reason can there be?'

He stared at her. 'You think they're after the dice.'

She nodded. 'Almost positive.'

'Which is absolutely of no use to anyone in this world.'

'It's possible!' Sira insisted. 'And I have a solid theory on why we even ended up here. Please, just...listen.'

England hesitated, then nodded.

Sira leaned forward. 'Here's what might have happened...'

Her idea was insane, England believed, as he listened. Yet after she was done, all the pieces seemed to click into place.

'That's...crazy,' he said. 'Are you sure you can find it on your own?'

'It's my country, after all,' she answered. 'It'll just take a few days. I'll go alone.'

England was still uncomfortable about the idea, but it was her country and he didn't really have a choice. 'Alright, if you're so certain.'

Sira nodded, then said, 'Well, I need to leave now. Thanks for hearing me out.'

'Wait,' he said, as she stood. 'Why did you come to me, of all people?'

'Because I can trust you,' she replied, surprising him. But then her eyes narrowed. 'I'm not asking to be your friend, if that's what you're thinking.'

'Of course not,' he retorted, annoyed with her for mentioning the possibility. 'Anyway, I really hope you're right. All of us have waited far too long.'

'We have,' she said quietly, and left, leaving the house empty and quiet as before.

xXx

Day 2: Later

Have you ever been in a situation where you feel like you need to fill up the tense silence, yet you don't know what to say? And you're afraid to open your mouth because you might babble something that'll make everything worse?

Well. Let's just say that's exactly what it was like when four protagonists from my favorite anime caught me red-handed snooping in their house.

I stared into the green eyes of our favorite Brit, my cheeks flaring. Oh God, what was I going to do?

Do something! my brain screamed at my mouth.

Tell us what to do, my mouth told it.

My brain was silent.

"Um...look, butterfly!" I pointed at a random spot in the air, planning to escape while they were distracted. They just stared at me like I was a lunatic.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't going to work.

Think, Sophie. Think think think think think think think think

"I know you're countries," I blurted.

Shit. That was not what was supposed to come out of my mouth.

England's eyes widened. "W-What...?"

My mouth betrayed me. "You're all characters from Hetalia! And you can't deny it because I overheard you guys talking. And England, which I assume is your name, you called 'Alfred' America."

They all gaped at me except for Alfred, who said in an annoyed tone, "You again?"

"Yes, me," I said, offended. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"How did you-" England began, but Germany cut him off.

"This is all just a misunderstanding," the German nation said smoothly, shocking me. "I believe we were just cosplaying the Hetalia characters, as any fans would do."

"But that's...that's..." I struggled to find the appropriate word.

"Ridiculous?" he finished. "No, we're just telling the truth. I assume you're also an avid fangirl. Is it Spain you're 'mentally dating'? Or perhaps 'Iggy?'"

I noticed that England's face flushed at the last part. That counted for something, right?

"Prove it," I demanded, but a little uncertainly.

"We don't want to reveal our deepest cosplaying secrets to a stranger," Germany answered.

Argh. "Why not?"

"Because we're going attend the next annual cosplaying competition," he said without even hesitating, "and you might steal our idea."

I really didn't know what to say to that. Maybe I was the wrong one. Maybe everyone here was sane but me. How could Hetalia even exist? It was just something created by a normal Japanese artist, nothing more. All of a sudden, I couldn't even remember why I believed it in the first place.

I was such an idiot.

"I'm sorry for trespassing," I muttered finally, my eyes on the floor. "Well...good luck in the competition."

With that, I turned away from the cosplayers, opened the window (I'd forgotten to take off the latch, which was why it didn't open earlier), jumped outside and ran home as fast as I could.

xXx

There are a number of ways you can tell when something very bad had happened in your own house, and one of them is finding that your little brother had left all the ice cream in the fridge untouched (the other is finding that your cat has somehow left the entire house fur-free).

Savansh has always had a total sweet tooth. He can eat ten packs of gummy bears in a row, and has a gross habit of pouring ten pounds of sugar in his cereal. So it was pretty weird when the small cup of vanilla ice cream sitting in the freezer hadn't even been opened. I didn't think much about this, however, and just took the summer treat out for myself to enjoy.

In the living room, all the curtains had been put down, which was strange since my mom liked to let sunlight into the house. Ice cream in hand, I made my way to the couch.

Then I felt cold metal against the back of my head.

"Don't move," a harsh voice whispered.

I stood, frozen, barely stopping a scream from escaping my mouth. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it pulsing in my ears.

"Very good," the voice said. "Now, put down the ice cream and sit."

The gun still pointed to my head, I slowly set the ice cream down, wild escape plans running through my mind.

It was now or never. I whirled around and kicked him in the crotch as hard as I could. A shot rang out, shattering the window across the room. Ducking low, I sprinted to the kitchen and grabbed a cutting knife, holding it in front of me like a weapon.

And then my attacker emerged. He was wearing a black mask that covered his entire head except for his eyes and a slit for him to breath. But really, I paid more attention to the sleek black gun in his hand.

I don't know why, but suddenly the Hetalia ending song started playing in my head.

Hey, hey Papa!
Give me some wine!
Hey, hey Mama!
Hey, hey Mama!
I can't get the taste of
That bolognese that I ate out of my head!

Wonderful. I was going to get my fucking brains blown out while Italy screamed for pasta in my head.

My attacker advanced towards me, eyes emotionless and cold. My fingers were shaking so badly I almost dropped my knife. I inched backwards until my back was pressed against the kitchen counter.

"Tell me where the teleporter is," he ordered. "Now!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said in a tiny voice. "S-Stay away from me!"

He aimed his gun towards my left thigh and fired. Immense pressure hit my leg and I collapsed, the knife skittering out of my fingers. I looked down at my thigh...then looked away.

Oh God. There was so much blood.

I am sorry to say that I did cry, that I did not stay calm like the heroines in books do and wait serenely for my death. When my attacker moved right in front of me and wrapped his fingers around my neck, I screamed.

I tried to pry his hands off, but he had an iron grip. I wheezed for air, certain I was going to die. And still Italy sang on:

Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle that's the Earth!

Strangely, the music was getting louder and louder in my head, until I almost believed Italy was singing right next to me.

DRAW A CIRCLE, THAT'S THE EARTH!
DRAW A CIRCLE, THAT'S THE EARTH!

From that second on, everything happened in a blur. The man coughed blood on me and loosened his grasp on my neck. There was the sound of gunshots and the slashing of a blade. Then the pain became too overwhelming and I passed out, the Hetalia song finally coming to an end.

xXx

Day 2: Time Unknown

Let's go crazy, crazy, crazy till we see the sun

Ugh...I hated that song...

I know we only met but let's pretend it's love

And never, never, never stop for anyone

"Someone...shut it off..." I groaned.

Thankfully, the music stopped. Ah..the bed felt so soft...

Wait a minute. What exactly was I doing in bed? And why was a 1D song playing? I never listened to One Direction.

I sat up in panic and winced at the pain in the back of my head. Where exactly was I? The room I was in looked completely unfamiliar. It was way too nice to be my room.

"So you've finally woken," came a voice with a distinct British accent right next to me. I twisted around and saw a guy with blond hair, green eyes and fuzzy eyebrows sitting on the edge of the bed. He didn't look happy.

"AH! What are you doing here?" I shrieked. "Get out of my room! GET OUT!"

I then attempted to push him off the bed, but either I was very weak or he was very fat. I hoped it was the latter.

He looked angry. "This is my room, you bloody...ah, never mind. The point is, you're awake."

I squinted my eyes at him. "Wait a sec...you're that England cosplayer, aren't you? What am I doing in your room?"

"I'm not a cosplayer," he said.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, I'm not a cosplayer," he repeated. I simply gawked at him. He stared back.

Then I laughed, a bit forcefully. "What are you, then? A pig?"

For some reason I found that extremely hilarious and couldn't stop laughing. I mean, just think about it: a pig with eyebrows. Enormous, fuzzy eyebrows.

By the time I had gotten over my laughing fit, he had developed an extremely annoyed, slightly red face.

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "So, why am I here again?"

"Japan rescued you," he said flatly. "You were about to be killed."

"You mean Japan's cosplayer," I corrected him.

"No, I mean Japan."

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "What the hell? You deny you guys are personifications, and now when I believe you're just cosplayers, you say you're not?"

"It's complicated," he said. The guy-England, whatever-took a cup from the nightstand and began pouring himself some tea from a teapot. I glared at him, waiting. A silence passed between us.

"By the way, that was a One Direction song playing," he remarked, sipping from his cup.

"I know that," I snapped.

"Don't you like them? They're very popular British singers, you know." He sounded quite proud.

"I'm sick of that song. They play it way too much on the radio."

England/the cosplayer looked offended. "They do have some nice songs. Anyway, I am England, the England, alright? Not some bloody cosplayer. Those gits always make my hair look a mess."

It was a mess, but I decided not to point this out. "Can you prove it, then?" I asked skeptically.

"I hate doing this," he muttered. He set down his teacup and began tugging on his eyebrows with his fingers. "See? They're genuine. It isn't a cosplaying item."

I couldn't stop myself. The sight of him tugging on those enormous, caterpillar eyebrows sent me into a fit of giggles.

"Give me...a minute," I gasped. I took a few breaths and sank back into the pillows. Ah, the softness.

He gave me a glare before continuing. "And if you want more proof," England/the psycho cosplayer rolled up his sleeves, "look at this." He held out his palm. A few seconds later, a green flame burst to life in the middle of his palm.

The flame shot out of his hand and off towards the large wooden wardrobe in the corner.

"Fuck!" He jumped up and chased after the flame. "Bloody hell, why does this always happen? We had an agreement! GET BACK HERE YOU WANKER!"

He chased the flame around, green eyes blazing with fury. At last, when it stopped on the window sill, he dove for it and caught it in his hands.

He came back to me, panting. "I hope that's proof enough," he said, extinguishing the fire. He sat back on to the edge of the bed, giving me an expectant look. "Well?"

I was speechless. Had I just...did I just see...magic? Real, actual magic? I pinched my arm to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"Um...can I see your hand?" I asked, then realized how stupid that sounded. "Just to check, I guess."

He offered it to me. I checked both sides, expecting to find some kind of special gadget I could blame the magic on.

I noticed a tiny, crescent shaped scar located near his thumb, but that was it.

I released his hand, suddenly feeling weak. "So...you're real," I said, still not quite believing it.

"You don't look convinced," he observed, frowning. Then his eyes brightened and something seemed to strike him. "Oh, right, I forgot to lift the spell."

He muttered something under his breath, and that was when I could finally see what was happening before my eyes, without any of that cloudy stuff clogging up my brain.

It was like my senses had been enhanced. Everything suddenly became sharper, clearer, and more real.

And thus, I began behaving like how every fangirl does when their dream just came true.

I let out a shriek of delight. "OMG! HETALIA IS REAL!" I was vaguely aware of the idiotic grin on my face. "It's real! It's not just an anime! IGGY EXISTS! So, are you like, an item with America? You guys are sooo cute together!"

England choked on his tea. "What?"

"If FrUK is canon, I am going to die of horror," I continued. "You know, they even pair you with Seychelles sometimes. I think that one's okay, but USUK still pwns all. Oh God...don't tell me AusHun is canon. Hungary deserves to be with Prussia! I mean, at least he treats her as an equal. By the way, I've always wondered...is China a girl or a guy?"

Judging by the look England was giving me, I'm guessing he probably didn't want to answer any of my questions.

"I am not gay," he asserted, after a few seconds of coughing. "China is 100% male. Well, 85%. And no, I will nevereven think about hooking up with America. The very thought of it..." He shuddered. "In fact, there are no romantic relationships between countries."

I think he just broke my heart into a million tiny pieces.

"No...pairings?" I managed in a small voice.

"No," England confirmed. I think he sensed how devastated I was, because he sighed and added, "Fine. There are a few out there..."

I perked up again. "Really? Please please please please please tell me there's GerIta! Or at least Ameripan, if USUK really isn't canon."

"There aren't any homosexual couples," England said. "But we all know that Japan and Liechtenstein have something going."

"Japan and...and Liechtenstein?" I sputtered. "But...but that's just...I mean, Japan should be with Taiwan! Or Greece, or Turkey..."

"What place do you have to decide our love lives?" England said in an annoyed tone.

"You have a love life?" I asked innocently.

He scowled at me, then sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Argh, you're impossible. But enough chit chat. We need to get down to business."

I sat up in bed and waited patiently.

"We brought you here," he said, "because one, you're resistant to my spell and two, you have something important."

I was confused. "You mean, that thingamajig you just removed? And how do you know I have something important?"

"You wouldn't have been attacked," England pointed out. "They came after you for a reason."

Remembering the man with the gun made my heart speed up. "Okay, back up a few steps," I said, because none of what he was saying was making any sense. "Who's 'they?'"

"'They' is basically people after a special item of ours," he explained. "The whole thing is quite complicated, so we'll discuss it after dinner."

"Dinner," I echoed warily. If this was England's house...

"The other thing is, you weren't affected by my spell," he continued, interrupting my thoughts. I wanted everyone that had nothing to do with our mission to forget Hetalia ever existed when they set foot in Sira. But you still knew who we were."

"I see," was all I could say.

"Therefore, either something went wrong in the spell or you're somehow important to us." He didn't sound like he believed what he was saying.

"Maybe you messed up," I offered. "Or maybe they had mistaken me for someone else."

"No, I spent months perfecting that spell. And I don't think they would make a mistake." He got up from the bed. "We should go down now. Can you get up?"

I lifted myself with my hands. "Sure, no pr-" A sharp pain traveled down my left leg and I winced, falling back onto the bed. I'd forgotten about the bullet wound.

"I'll help you," he said, almost flatly, leaning towards me and holding out his arms.

My face turned few shades of dark red. "N-No, it's fine! Just...do you have some sort of walking stick I can use?"

To my relief, England dropped his arms, standing up straight again. I think he also looked relieved. "I'll see what I can find," he said, heading towards his mahogany wardrobe. He rummaged through the inside, finally coming up with a wooden cane.

He handed it to me and I accepted it gratefully. I gritted my teeth, slowly swung my legs off the bed and stood shakily, leaning heavily on the walking stick. Looking down, I noticed my leg had been cleaned and wrapped in gauze.

"Can you walk?" he asked uncertainly.

I took a few wobbly steps forward. "I think I can manage."

"Alright, then." He opened the door and I walked-or more like hobbled-out. I followed England down a hallway, dragged myself down the stairs, and arrived in his living room.

It was maybe three or four times the size of my living room in Spain, and a whole lot grander. The furniture all looked like they were made in Britain, and the faint smell of something burnt lingered in the air.

What I first noticed, however, was not the room itself, but the people occupying it. I recognized them immediately: America, Germany, Japan, Italy, and France. America was flipping through channels on England's TV, an incredibly bored look plastered on his face. Germany was teaching Japan how to play Western chess, and France was chatting with Italy about...well, something that included "squeezing" and "pulling" and "stroking gently." To be honest, I really didn't want to know the details.

They all looked up as I entered. Suddenly I felt silly, with my stupid stick and awkward limp. This wasn't exactly how I imagined I would meet the Hetalia characters.

"Hi," I said meekly.

Italy jumped up. "Hi there, ragazza(1)!" he said cheerfully, approaching me and wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug. He let go and smiled excitely. "Do you want big brother France to teach you how to-"

"I'll pass," I said quickly. "But wow! You're Italy, right?"

"Yup! The land of pasta, pizza and passion!" (Amazing. Fucking amazing.)

"Hey, Sophie," America greeted me without taking his eyes off the screen. Germany acknowledged me with a curt nod, Japan bowed his head, and France blew me a kiss.

"How did you know my name?" I asked America.

"Come on, everyone's talking about you at school," he said. "And Iggy, your channels suck ass. I mean, some of this stuff doesn't even make sense! Like this one: something about a doctor traveling through time in a police box saving humans from overweight Martians with boobs planning to overthrow the financial market-"

"DO NOT INSULT DOCTOR WHO IN FRONT OF ME YOU WANKER!" England roared.

"Okay fine, maybe that one isn't so bad," America said. "But cooking shows, dude?"

France looked up in horror. "C-Cooking shows?"

England's face was red. "Shut up. None of you can appreciate true entertainment."

"Hey, since we're talking about TV shows, I know a good one!" Italy said. "It's called Italian Stripping Housewives and it came out in the 1980s. Basically, two couples competed with each other. The wives would ask their husbands questions, and for each right answer the wives would take off a piece of clothing. And the winner was whoever was the first to take off her br-"

"Italy," Germany cut in, "this fanfic is rated PG-13."

"Oh...sorry."

"That show sounds simply splendid!" France said delightfully. "Oh Italy, I am so proud of you for such an accomplishment!"

The whole time they were talking, I was standing there grinning like an idiot, trying to hold in my giggles. Which I completely failed at.

"What are you laughing about?" America asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing," I said, grinning.

"C'mon, let me in on the joke."

"It's just that..." My voice faltered as I suddenly remembered something important I had to do.

"I need to call my parents!" I gasped. "And...and Savansh...is he..."

"He's safe," England assured me, "but you can use the phone in the study. Down the hallway, third door on the right."

I nodded gratefully and walked-hobbled-off. Wow...that was weird. Fantastically weird.

After what seemed like a million years, I finally made my way to said study. The room was large, but cozy, with soft lights and maroon curtains. Two bookshelves packed with books were pushed against one wall. In the middle of the room, on England's desk, a neatly stacked pile of papers sat next a black pen holder and laptop. A Sherlock Holmes novel lay open at page 271, and on top of the book was a leather-bound journal. At the corner of his desk was a telephone.

I picked up the receiver and dialed Savansh's cell, literally shaking with anxiety. If he didn't pick up...

After the third ring, I heard a click. "Hello?"

A kid's voice. "Um, may I speak to Savansh Dupont?" I asked. "This is his sister."

"Okay, wait." A few seconds later, I heard my brother's voice, "Hi, sis. Whatcha calling for?"

I nearly collapsed with relief. "Oh God, I was so worried. Where are you right now?"

"Uh, Danny's house? And no, the house didn't explode, if that's what you're worried about."

"Listen, Savansh. A few..." I checked the clock on the wall, "...a few hours ago, I was attacked by an intruder in our house. Right now I'm at a, um, friend's house figuring some stuff out. So just be careful, okay?"

Savansh was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Okay. What am I telling Mom?"

"I'll call her." I let out a shaky breath. "Just...stay safe. Don't go anywhere."

"Aw, shucks. I was going to go drug the neighbor's dog. You know how some stuff makes dogs fart like crazy?"

"Savansh!"

"Kidding, geez. I did feed it some beans-"

"Savansh, stop joking," I said, but I knew he always talked a lot when he was nervous. "I need to go now."

"Bye." He paused. "You're coming home, right?" he asked in a small voice.

I smiled. "Yeah, I think so. Take care, then."

"Okay." He hung up. I listened to the dial tone, then punched in my mom's number. When she didn't pick up, I left a voicemail.

"Hey, Mom. This is Sophie. I don't think I'm coming home for dinner, because I'm eating at a friend's house. Sorry for the short notice. I'll be home soon..."

"You might need to stay for the weekend," came a voice from behind.

I jumped and whirled around, my heart pounding. England was standing in the doorway. He smelled like burnt English pastries. God, why did he just appear out of nowhere?

I glowered at him, then continued recording, "Actually, I think I might stay at her place until next Monday. Um...she's a friend I made at school, so you don't need to worry. Also, be careful, because I think someone broke into our house." I wasn't going to tell her I was there yet; she'd freak. "Well, I'll call again soon. Love you."

I pressed send and set the phone down. Then I turned to face England. "So why exactly am I staying here overnight?"

"You might know some vital information," he replied tonelessly. "We can't risk letting you go."

Did he have to be so cold? We'd already met and talked for at least half an hour by now, yet he didn't even bother to ask my name. In the OC fanfics I read online, he'd always been kind and gentlemanly to the main character, calling them "love" and "pet" and all those names.

But this was so different. It was like he was forced to talk to me or something. I swallowed and nodded, my eyes on the floor, then grabbed my walking stick and walked-hobbled-past him.

"Just so you know," I said, as nonchalantly as I could manage, "my name is Sophie. But I guess that's not really important to your 'mission.'"

With that, I left the study, disappointment swelling in my chest.

xXx

I know, I know; I was lucky. I can't deny that fact. I mean, I'd met the countries. In real life. That doesn't happen everyday, does it?

Well. On with the story. So, after that little scene, I realized I was starving, from the constant growling my stomach was emitting.

After I left the study, I went back to the living room. France and Italy were gone; they were probably cooking something delicious in the kitchen. America had left as well.

It was weird just standing there in the middle of the room, so I sunk into England's sofa next to Japan and watched the two nations play.

"If I move my pawn over here, then there is a good chance for it to become a queen," Germany was explaining. "So, Japan, you must find a way to either kill it off or risk losing."

"I see," Japan said thoughtfully. He stared at the chessboard for a few seconds, then brought one of his rooks forward, a rare smile forming on his lips. "Is this alright?"

The German nation was astounded. "That was a brilliant move, Japan. You must be a natural at Western chess."

Japan blushed. "Arigato."

Fine, I thought, as Germany moved his pawn to its death. Just fine. Ignore me, then. I don't care.

I was beginning to feel homesick and miserable when Japan turned to me and asked concernedly, "Does your bullet wound still hurt? You were injured quite severely in the attack."

I was startled. "I feel fine," I answered quickly, then remembered something England mentioned. "Um...thank you for saving me."

"It was my duty," Japan replied. He gestured towards the chessboard. "Would you like to play a round with Germany? This game is very interesting."

I was about to reject him kindly (he was being so polite, I couldn't help but do the same), but something made me change my mind...maybe the fact that chess was one of the only things I was good at. Instead, I smirked. "Alright. I don't think Germany can beat me, though; I'm way too awesome to lose."

"You sound like my bruder," Germany grumbled. "Very well, then. Let us begin."

xXx

In the end, I tied with Germany. I was about to challenge Japan to a match when a very loud, very girly scream was heard from the kitchen.

"ANGELETERRE!" I heard France screech. "What did you put in my soup?"

"There's no need to yell," came England's voice. He sounded quite calm. "I just added a pinch of salt, some mashed beans and a bit of haggis. It improves the flavor."

That explains the odor, I thought.

"You ruined it," France moaned. "Now I have to start over. We'll never have a proper dinner with you hanging around."

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with my cooking, you twat!" England said angrily. I stifled a giggle.

"Guys, don't fight!" I heard Italy say frantically. He yelped. "AAH! What died in the oven?"

"I think I should go help out," Japan said. "Please excuse me..." He stood and hurried to the kitchen.

That left just Germany and me. "Well," I said.

Germany sighed, looking very worn out. "It happens all the time. Those two will never learn to get along."

I sighed, too and tried to look despondent, but my brain flooded with mental images of France and England strangling each other and a laugh escaped my lips. I masked it with a cough.

About then my stomach growled and I realized how hungry I was. Germany heard (how embarassing is that?) it and said, "I suppose it's time for dinner, assuming Japan succeeded in his mission."

And so we went to the dining room. Germany began setting the table ( and cleaning the windows for no apparent reason). Out of curiosity, I stepped into the kitchen.

I wish I hadn't. The place was in complete chaos. A certain Brit and a certain Frenchman were beating each other up, which meant flying plates, spills, a frantic Japan and a very, very freaked-out Italy.

Italy, who was cowering in the corner, caught sight of me and cried, "Help meee!"

Oh gee, this was going to be hard. "Stop fighting!" I shouted, waving my arms. "France, uh...put down that plate! And you, England, let go of that pan!"

It was no use. I stood there helplessly as they continued their battle, smashing more tableware and hurling random food. At one point they both turned to Japan and demanded, "Who's the superior here?"

Japan was very flustered at the question. I couldn't blame him. "I...I think you two are equal..."

"You think I am the equivalent of this bloody frog?" England said furiously.

"Who are you calling frog?" said France defiantly. "At least my food isn't like that disgusting slop of yours!"

"Why, you-"

"STOP THIS NONSENSE IMMEDIATELY ARU!" The real-life version of China charged in with his hundred-pound wok, which he waved dangerously at the two fighting nations.

"Eep!" France shrunk away from the pan. England did the same.

"You two are acting like children, aru," China scolded. "I'll make dinner, end of discussion."

China didn't look that much like a woman, really. I mean, you could tell he had muscles, considering the fact that he could handle that huge wok without any problems.

France was the first to gather himself. He brushed himself off, smoothed out his hair and asked, "Are you sure you can handle everything without my help?"

England was giving France a death glare, so Japan said hurriedly, "I will help China, so you can go rest. You must be very tired from all the hard work."

"At least someone understands my feelings," France said, leaving the kitchen. "Italy! Come with me, I'll teach you a few more tricks."

"Okey dokey!" Italy jumped up and bounced after France. That left England, China, Japan and me.

"Well, my scones are done," England said, opening the oven. He took out a...well, something shapeless and greenish-gray.

"I'll take care of that, aru," China said, snatching the tray of thingalings from England. "You can go find Éguó(2)."

He was about to protest, but apparently thought better of it. Grumbling something about frogs and bloody Russians under his breath, England left the kitchen.

In the sudden silence, my stomach decided to give off a loud grumble, embarassing me yet again.

xXx

Somehow, China and Japan finished preparing all the food (and cleaning up the mess)in under twenty minutes. I still don't know how they managed it. England's scones went straight to the trashcan, and sadly, as well as France's ruined soup.

In the end we had Italian pizza, fried noodles, sushi and melon au jambon de bayonne, a French appetizer I had ten helpings of. It was the strangest meal I had ever had in my life, and the best. If only there wasn't a downside.

I don't know which one's worse: sitting next to Russia or France.

If you think 2D Russia is scary, then you haven't seen the worst of it. Trust me, 3D Russia is a zillion times creepier. It wasn't helping that a certain Frenchman's hand kept creeping up my shirt.

The third time it happened, I stabbed his hand with my fork. I'm sorry to say that his scream was very, very satisfying.

"Become one with Mother Russia, da?" Russia whispered, his scarf moving of its own accord to wrap around my arm. I shuddered and shook my head.

Russia looked disappointed, but he said,"You will change your mind," and thankfully removed his scarf.

So basically, these were the seating arrangements: England and France couldn't sit next each other (or across), so I was sandwiched between them. China didn't want to sit next to Russia, so Russia sat between England and me. On the other side was Italy, China and Japan. Germany sat at the head of the table, which was probably why there were no major arguments.

After the meal, everyone headed for the living room. Only then did I realize someone was missing.

"Where's America?" I asked, as I quickly claimed the most comfortable-looking spot in the room.

"He's out on a date with a girl from school," Italy answered me cheerfully. "Maybe they'll get to first base tonight!"

"Oh," I said. I don't know why, but I felt sort of...disappointed, I guess. Who knew he'd actually go with that airhead?

"Is everyone here?" England asked, standing at the front of the room. "There should be 8, not including the hamburger idiot."

Germany did a quick headcount and frowned. "Someone's missing."

"Are you sure?" England asked. "I can't think of anyone who isn't here."

Dear Lord, it happened in real life, too. I raised my hand and said, "Um... this is just a guess, but he wouldn't happen to be Canada, would he?"

England snapped his fingers. "That's it! We're missing Canadia!"

Right on cue, the doorbell rang. "What's the password?" he called.

A moment later, the answer came, "'The British are special. The world knows it. In our innermost thoughts we know it. This is the greatest nation on Earth.' Said by Tony Blair."

"Why, thank you for the compliment," England said, sounding pleased. France groaned. The English nation shot him a dirty look and went to unlock the door. "Password accepted. Thank you for coming, er...Canadia."

The personification of Canada stepped in. "I'm so sorry I'm late," he cried. "My brother switched my maple syrup with tabasco sauce and I had to remake dinner. Did I miss anything important?"

"No, we haven't started yet," England said. "You can take a seat next to Sophie."

I felt a little better knowing that he had remembered my name. Canada approached me and sat down in the armchair on my right. "Hi," he said in that soft voice of his, and smiled. "You must be Sophie."

"Yeah, and you're Canada," I said. "Um, this might sound weird, but can I touch Kumajirou?"

"Oh...sure! Here, you can hold him." Canada gently lifted the white bear and placed him in my arms. Kuma was so soft and cuddly I rubbed his face against my cheek.

"Ow...who are you?" Kuma asked. "And look, that person with the big eyebrows there is talking. Maybe we should listen."

He was right; England had begun speaking. "I'll start tonight's meeting by going over everything for our guest, Sophie, which I'm sure you have all met."

Everyone's heads turned to me and I gave a cheerful little wave.

"Most of the countries in this world have personifications, but we live in another world, known to our fans here as the 'Hetalia world.' Sometimes when major events happen, such as war or catastrophes, we travel here to set things right or figure out what's going on, using a pair of glass dice."

My stomach twisted and I found myself remembering the girl I had met in Spain and her question.

'Do you happen to be in possession of a pair of glass dice? They each have six sides and red dots, and sort of glow in the dark...'

Get yourself together, Sophie, I scolded myself. It's probably just some kind of crazy coincidence.

"These dice allow us to travel between the two worlds," England continued. "However, when something major happens in one world, the dice will fall to that world and bring us along with it. Which obviously is a huge problem."

I swallowed. "What...what happens if you stay in this world permanently?"

"Each world has an amount of power that balances the two sides," he said. "It's like a seesaw. If the power on one side is too great, the two sides become unbalanced. And when that happens, either world will die."

"So that means, if you don't return to your world..."

"Earth will most likely perish. There've been quite a lot of natural disasters lately, and people have begun believing in a world apocalypse arriving in December 2012. And the hurricanes in New York, earthquakes and tsunamis in the east...those are most likely caused by this world's power going out of control."

I looked down, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Damn it. Why did I have to pick it up that day?

"Sophie, is something wrong?"

I looked up. England was giving me a concerned look, but I could see the suspicion underneath. "I..."

My cellphone rang and I jumped. "Uh, sorry," I said, relieved to have a distraction. "Excuse me for a sec..." I brought it out of my pocket and pressed answer. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sophie! Did you watch the news?"

"Jen? What about the news?"

Jenny gave me my answer. My eyes widened in shock and I almost dropped the cellphone. "W-What? That can't be! But why?"

"They don't know yet, but they're investigating...oh sorry, I have to go. My mom's calling me. I'll see you tomorrow!"

She hung up and I set my phone down, unable to process what I'd just heard.

"What's wrong?" Germany asked me, sensing my shock. "Did something happen?"

I turned to the nations. "America's going to be stood up tonight," I said shakily. "Emily was murdered."

---

(1) ragazza: young lady

(2) Éguó: Russia

---

*And that's the third chapter. This one was a total biotch to write.

*But breaking the fourth wall was quite fun. :D

*So, I think you all know what the OC pairing in this story is going to be now...

*Thank you for reading! And thank you even more if you read all 7000 words! Please leave a comment about what you thought, it would mean a lot to me. See you all next time! :)

...x Whitlinger x...