A/N: Hello everybody. We hope you all are having a good night/day/whatever.

Two things.

One, we would like to introduce ourselves.

Kairia is the lighter half of us that we show to the world. Yami is the darker part of us, who is hidden away in our mind as she plots the doom of everyone who has ever ignored us, teachers and students alike. (Y: They will all die! K: Shush, you.)

Two. Warning: Swear word or two in this chapter. Same key from last chapter applies here.

My shout stopped the brewing argument in its tracks as everyone stared at me in surprise. I raced past them and jumped on the table, panting slightly because my body felt all weird, but I still ignored the voice in my head that was cataloguing all the changes.

I knelt on the table and held Hugo's head on my lap as I looked over the wound. Luckily, it wasn't anything too bad, just a small cut, but it was bleeding a lot, and that freaked me out. Looking for something to bind his head with, I noticed a bag across my hip (how did I not notice that before?) and dug through it.

I sighed in relief as I pulled out some bandages; Hugo was my only friend, and pretty much the only person who a lot of attention to me, so I didn't want anything bad to happen to him. I swiftly wrapped them around my friend's head with the ease that came with practice. I was always the one to patch Hugo up after a training session with his Dad (and sometimes I had to patch up my own wounds as well), so I knew how to fix wounds.

When I was done, I faced the group of people and begin asking questions, still stubbornly ignoring the fact that there was still something weird about Hugo, and my body felt different, and my voice was way, way too high.

"Who are you? Where are we? (Are you the ones who kidnapped us?)" I accidentally slipped into my native language as my voice became more heated. I glared at the people from my spot kneeling on the table when they didn't answer, most of them staring at me in confusion or shock. I hissed angrily. "Well?"

That did it. There was yelling and shouting and accusations galore, and the few females in the group seemed to be...cooing over how cute I was?

...What? I'm eighteen, about to graduate high school, and they think I'm cute?! I mean sure, I'm a little short for my age, but not so much that I'm cute. Most people are normally scared of me, in fact. Apparently my scowl is intimidating.

One person, a blonde male with long hair, began walking towards me with an excited look on his face before he was accosted by another blonde with big eyebrows. They soon started fighting.

A tall, strict looking blonde (why were there so many blondes?) strode forward, glaring everyone into silence, and when he spoke, it was with a thick German accent.

"Ve did not kidnap you, nor your friend."

I blinked and tilted my head, before asking in German. ("So? Where are we then? And if you did not kidnap us, why and how are we here?")

He blinked, but that was his only show of surprise, though the other people all gaped at me in shock. I should probably explain.

See, Hugo and I taught each other our native languages; he taught me German, and I taught him French (when I could muster the will and energy to, which wasn't often, and is why Hugo's French is so bad). We planned to travel to our respective home countries together someday, and we both wanted to be able to communicate while there. Though, I know for a fact the Hugo wanted to give up on teaching me a few times. Apparently it's really hard to teach a lazy person. Huh. Who'd have thought? I did eventually learn German well enough, despite all my laziness and troublesomes.

I was shaken from my reminiscing by the German's voice. ("Ah, I am sorry, but I do not know why nor how you are here. However, as to where you are, you a-")

He was interrupted by a loud blonde (gah, why so many blondes?!) in a bomber jacket. "HEY DUDES! Stop talkin' in that weird gibberish! You should talk in the totally HEROIC language of AMERICAN! AHAHAHAHA!"

I gave him a blank stare and then ignored him as I heard a soft mumble in German. It was Hugo, and he was waking up. When he's sleepy or just waking up, he speaks German. I do the same with French. ("Roxy?~ What's going on?") He asked as he yawned.

I replied in French, unconsciously falling back into the pattern we shared at school. He'd speak German, I'd speak French, and everyone else would stare at us in confusion. It also helped us stay in practice in our respective languages. ("I don't know Hugo. That's what I'm trying to figure out. You okay? You've got a cut on your head. I bandaged it though, don't worry.") I normally don't talk that much, but when I get worried I tend to ramble.

He just nodded as he sat up slowly, looking around tiredly. As he did, he froze and the tiredness disappeared as he looked at the people gathered around us, recognition in his wide, surprised eyes. ("SHIT!")

I stared at him in surprise, as he usually never cursed. Instead he'd say things like "Fudge Nuggets!" or "Son of a Biscuit!" So if he was swearing right now, something bad must be happening.

Ignoring the shouted expletive, the blonde man with long hair from before swooped in, talking in excited French. ("Ah!~ You speak the language of love!~ Are you French?")

Hugo, who had never been as good at French as I was a German (though that was due to my horrible teaching skills, not any fault of his own), just stared confused at the rapid French, so I intervened in just as rapid French.

("He is not. He is German, and not very good at our language. I, on the other hand, am purely French, though I live in America.")

The same obnoxious blonde as before spoke up before the Frenchman could reply. "HEY HEY HEY! Did you say something about America! HAHAHA! Of course you did, America is the HERO, so of course you were talking about i! AHAHA!." He then proceeded to ramble on about Heros, America, and robots...

The other blonde, the one with huge eyebrows, that is, groaned loudly and complained. "Oh, great, another Frog..."

However, I ignored them in favor of not punching the obnoxious Frenchman who was flirting with me. ("Ohonhonhon...I am Francis, handsome sir. I don't mind how feminine you are, or your young age, I just care about the love!~") My eye twitched both because of the flirting, and because he was calling me a boy. I mean, sure, I look pretty masculine, but I can't look that much like a boy. Also, if what I was mentally denying was true, then this guy is a total pediophile.

I drew the line, however, when the verbal flirting - which I could tolerate because I didn't want to cause trouble (and because it would take up too much energy to retaliate) - became physical and he groped me.

Oh hell no!

"Get ze hell off me you Perverted French Bastard! Touch me zere one more time and I'll make it so you can no longer identify yourself as a man!" The gathered strangers - all of whom seemed to be from various different countries - all gaped as I grabbed the stupid French man and threw him at the wall.

...What? Didn't think I could through a grown man? Hmph. Shows what you know. I may be lazy, but I'm not weak. I used to take karate in middle school. I may not be a martial arts master, (or anything even close to one) but I know a few moves, and I work out enough to be healthy (though mostly it's because of Hugo blackmailing me into training at least twice at week, sometimes more).

Laughter broke everyone out of their shock, and I couldn't help but grin a bit as I watched my carefree German friend laugh. He had seemed really tense and excited when he first woke up, so it was a relief to see him laugh. Speaking of, I really need to interrogate him about the recognition I saw in his eyes.

Soon enough, everyone was laughing, bar Frenchy and the few more stoic looking guys, and I decided to take the opportunity to find out what Hugo knew.

I pulled him to the corner I woke up in and asked him what was going on. He still had a slightly dazed look on his face, and I was still surprised he had cursed, which caused me to glare at him as he hesitated in answering.

He still didn't answer, and I became worried again. "Hugo, what's wrong? Do you know who all those people are, or what's going on?" Nothing. "Hugo?" Nada. Well, it seems I'll have to bring out my last resort: The Embarrassing Nicknames. I can't come up with nicknames, but the ones I can up with for him are pretty darn embarrassing.

"Pedo-Hugo." This nickname came from the time where he accidentally ran into a young girl and fell on top of her, and started blushing in embarrassment. Voila, instant bad and embarrassing nickname.

"Egghead." There was this one time, when I was watching Hugo attempt to bake a cake for his father's birthday, he stumbled and smashed his face into the carton of eggs. It took him hours to get the egg yolk out of his hair.

"Otaku-Perv." A few years back he went to an anime convention, and forced me to come. He stared at everyone who was dressed up, especially the females, the entire time, so I loudly declared that he must lust for all otakus as revenge for making me go.

"Underpants." One time, back in freshman year when the anime Katekyo Hitman Reborn was his favorite, he stripped to his underwear at school and began to run around, shouting "REBORN!" That incident was still referenced at school, three years later.

"Marie." My last resort. See, one time, after staying up all night watching anime, Hugo came to school wearing his mom's clothes. He even had make-up on for some reason. Marie is his mom's name. He hates it when I call him that since he resents his mom a little since she always left him alone, and he's embarrassed about the incident. If that doesn't him get a reaction, I don't know what will.

"Don't call me that!" At the last one he reacted and whisper-yelled at me (apparently realising that I didn't want to draw attention to us) angrily.

I raised an eyebrow and repeated my questions.

"Fine, fine. I think that...well, you see...those men...anime...Hetalia!" He stuttered sheepishly, and I blinked, stopping myself from feeling his forehead in concern. I had known he loved Hetalia (the posters, manga, buttons, figurines, t-shirts, and bedsheets were a dead giveaway), but I didn't know he was so into it that he would just randomly say it when he didn't know what to say.

He blushed. "Sorry, that came out weird."

You think? I thought, deadpan. He smiled sheepishly and I knew my thoughts had been conveyed through my expression.

"What I meant to say is that, well, um...Ithinkwe'reinHetalia! BecausethepeopleovertherelookandactlikethecountriesfromHetalia! Iknowitdoesn'tmakesense, but it's the only thing I could think of! I'm sorry!"

I blinked. Went over his words in my head. Blinked again. Made sure I heard it right. Blinked a third time. Realised I must have heard it wrong and expressed my confusion.

Hugo repeated his explanation. "I think we're in Hetalia! Because the people over there look and act like the countries from Hetalia! I'm sorry!"

I nodded in understanding, and he sighed in relief.

Then I yelled incredulously. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

My shout drew the attention of the - until then - arguing men(nations?), but I didn't care as I interrogated Hugo on the hows and whys and the whats in a mix of rapid-fire French, German, and English.

*Special POV Change Brought To You By The Awesome Prussia! Hugo's POV*

I winced as I noticed all the staring nation - and wasn't that an exciting shock - as they tried to figure out what was going on. England and Germany had joined me in trying to understand the mash-up of languages that was being spoken - though, it seemed that America and France had given up on translating.

And god, was it weird to talk about the nations as people in real life, instead of just in jest.

I quickly realised that I had been staring at the staring nations to listen to Roxanne, who hates being ignored. She's had that happen to her too much in her life to nicely tolerate it. I winced and turned back to her, hoping she hadn't noticed my inattention, but no such luck.

"OW-OW-OW-OOW! Roxy, I'm sorry!" I cried in pain, unconsciously switching back to English as my friend angrily pulled on my ear.

"You better be, idiot! I bet it's your fault we're stuck in this mess! This should not be happening! AND DON'T CALL ME ROXY, DAMNIT!" She was furious.

The last time I had seen her angry (after I had ignored her for a whole week for my beloved anime), she was no where near this mad. I swear that I saw smoke coming out of her ears, but I might have just been imagining things.

Of course, last time she wasn't stuck in an anime she knows nothing about for an unknown reason with (possibly) no way out.

...Yeah, you know what?

I'm screwed.

A/N: Hello again!~ Once again, we hope you liked that chapter, it was fun editing it.

We hope you liked Hugo's short POV! We wanted to give a different perspective, and we're not very good at writing the nations. We think Hugo's end of chapter POV thing might become something we do every time.

It's annoying to write America. His loudness hurts our ears in our head.

Please read and review!~ Constructive criticism is very helpful, so please lend us some!