Just as a note, the reader is currently at Russia's home and is now six years old. So, this skips ahead only a little bit. Oh, the reader is also now fluent in Russian and Belarusian. They're almost finished with their lessons in Hungarian and have started their German lessons. Anything in italics is Russian.

You sighed, staring up at the light blue ceiling dully. Today was one of those days. One of the days where you spent your time sitting in your room and remembering all the things you had to go through and challenges you had to face without a real, stable family. The list, as you noticed, seemed to stretch on forever. It was times like this that you missed your Mother more than ever. To make things worse, your Father had fallen ill. He was currently at a hospital in Spain. You'd visited last week and none of the countries had tried sugar coating it: your Father was in pretty bad condition. The constant traveling had been wearing his body down.

A soft knock reached your ears, as well as your Papa's soft voice, speaking to you in Russian, asking if you were alright.

"I'm fine, Papa. Just tired..."

"Are you sure? You've been in your room all day and you know that your aunt is visiting today." Aunt? Aunt Natalya? Wasn't she always at the house, especially now that you were here? Even so, Aunt Natalya never gave warning when she was coming over, she just showed up.

"Aunt Natalya?" You asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

"No, your aunt Katyusha, my Big Sister. She finally managed to talk her Boss into letting her visit."

Oh...That aunt. The mysterious woman who had been behind you for the past two years. At first, it was the night gown, but then she started becoming a bigger influence in your life, even if she wasn't there. When you'd passed your final test on Russian, you'd gotten a letter from her saying that she was very happy and proud of you. On your fifth birth day, there was a box at the very bottom of the pile, with light blue and yellow, horizontally striped wrapping paper. The gift itself had been a little, handmade doll. Next Christmas, it had been a scarf, which had the flags of each country that had been influencing you: the Russian, Belarusian, the Hungarian, the German, the Prussian, the Italian, the America, the Canadian, and then there was the Ukrainian flag at the very end, just barely even on the scarf. This continued on. Each time you would achieve something, or a holiday came around, you would get a letter from her and/or a gift. You actually kept all of the letters she sent you in your little jewlery box, a gift from Poland for your fifth birthday.

Despite your current mood, you couldn't help but let a smile ghost across your lips. You were finally going to meet her. The woman who had supported you through a lot of your hardest times over the past two years with gifts but, mostly, her kind words in her perfectly timed letters.

"When is she getting her, Papa?" You asked, realizing that you were still only in your PJs.

"She'll be here in about one hour."

Crap...You had an hour to try and make yourself look presentable. Even though you were only six, it still took a lot of effort to get yourself washed up and dressed, due to the fact that your hair now took a half hour to brush out, since you hadn't gotten the chance to get it cut and, while you trusted Poland with everything relating to make overs, you did NOT trust him with to cut your hair. You would pretty much let him do everything else (as long as it didn't involve TOO much pink), but your hair was something you would very much rather take care of on your own.

With a heavy sigh, you slid off of the bed.

"I'll get ready..." you muttered, finally speaking in English. While you could speak Russian, you still preferred English because, after a while, Russian gave you a head ache. You heard his soft reply, but didn't really care what he said, and then heard the sound of his footsteps disappearing down the hall. Going to the closet, you slid it open and let your eyes dully flip over the outfits inside. With each outfit, it was pretty obvious which country picked out which outfit, and which ones you actually chose. The pink dress? Poland, obviously. The classy, stylish little shirt and leggings, in red and blue? France. Finally, your eyes fell on the little light blue dress that you had picked out back when you and New York City had gone shopping.

Reaching up, you managed to pull it off the hanger and then began the long, painful process of getting ready.

- Time Skip to an Hour Later -

DING-DONG!

The doorbell rang through the house, just as you finished tugging the brush through your hair. Smiling, you looked in the full body mirror and couldn't help but smile. Your little light blue dress came down to your knees and had a little floral pattern across the bottom. Since it often got cold in Papa's house, you also wore a long sleeved white shirt and long leggings. You also wore a pair of white tennis shoes and you had your (h/c) hair in pigtails with little yellow ribbons. You looked simply adorable.

"(Y/n)! Your Aunt is here!" Papa called from downstairs.

"Coming!" you shouted as you walked out of the room. Hopping down the stairs, you saw Papa standing by the door, exchanging a few words with another woman.

The first thing you noticed was that she had a very...erm, large chest. But, then you noticed her kind blue eyes and the happy smile on her face. Your mind immediately moved back to your Mother. She really reminded you of your Mother, and you hadn't even spoken to her. It was just this...air about her that made you want to go up to her and let her hold you. You wanted to have her hold you and tell you that everything would be okay.

She glanced over, finally taking notice of you. "Oh, hello, (y/n)," she said, smiling softly at you.

Papa nodded. "Okay, I'll be leaving now."

You looked over at him, a confused look set into your features. "Papa, why are you leaving?"

"Ah, it's the only way Ukraine is allowed over..."

"It was my Boss's request," she said, sighing softly.

Nodding, you sat down at the bottom step, waving goodbye to your Papa as he left. Once he was gone, Ukraine walked over and sat next to you.

"Thank you," you muttered.

She chuckled and ruffled your hair. "It was no problem. My Boss was being a bit of a pain so I knew I wouldn't have been able to see you until we could convince him...I helped every way I could."

Looking up at her, you cocked your head, a neutral look on your face. "You kinda remind me of my Mommy..." you muttered.

"Really? How so?" she asked.

You shrugged. "I don't know...You just do...I mean, my Mommy was really nice, like you are. Oh, it's probably just because I miss her..." you mumbled, more to yourself than anything.

"Where is she?"

"She's dead," you replied, sniffling.

Dangit, you were going to cry! You couldn't cry, not anymore. You'd cried too much for a six year old. But, despite how much you tried to hold in your tears, they slipped out. You rubbed them away with your sleeve furiously, a growl slowly transforming to a sob. You were so angry, with yourself, with your Papa, with your Daddy's Boss, with everyone. It was as if nobody noticed you, crying out for help. You were six years old and you'd been through more than any kid had ever had to go through. It wasn't fair that YOU had to go through this. Why couldn't it have been someone else? Why did your Father have to get a job with the countries? Why did your Daddy have to leave? Why did your Mother have to die?!

Suddenly, you felt yourself being picked up and placed in her lap. She hugged you, running her fingers through your hair and whispering a song under her breath in Ukrainian. It took a while, you don't know how long, to calm down. Once you did, she pulled back a bit and wiped away your tears with the sleeve of the sweater she was wearing and kissed your forehead.

"It's okay to cry, you know. You of all people deserve to cry. You can't just bottle up your emotions because, eventually, the pressure inside becomes too much, and it's all let out at once," she said softly, looking you in the eyes.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

"Now, why don't you go wash up your face, and I'll make lunch."

You nodded again, smiling softly and climbing out of her lap. Hopping back up the stairs, you made your way to the bathroom, wiping off your face with a damp cloth.

She chuckled softly, smiling widely. You reminded her so much of Russia and Belarus, when they were younger. She missed being able to care for them, now that they were old enough to take care of themselves.

Standing up, she made her way to the kitchen to start on lunch for the two of you.

- Time Skip to After Lunch -

The two of you were sitting on the couch, and you were letting her braid your hair, when you suddenly asked, "Ummm...What was the song you were singing to me?"

She smiled softly and chuckled. "A Ukrainian Folk song called Сонце Низенько...The name of the song, in English, is 'The Sun Sets.' "

You shifted nervously, biting your lower lip. "W-Would you sing it again? I really liked it..."

"Of course." And then, she began to sing. The song was slow and beautiful...You were immediately entranced. Shutting your eyes, you let yourself be captured in the song and its lyrics, even if you couldn't understand them. When the song ended, you smiled and looked back at her.

"What is it about?"

"It's about a girl, waiting for her sweetheart at sunset. When he comes to her, she asks him if he really loves her or if there is another. He says that he does love her, but he can't marry her. The end of the song is her lament, 'Oh, my dear god! What have I done! I fell in love with him, but he has a wife..' The man also has two children," she replied softly, grabbing a pony tail and wrapping it around the end of a braid she'd put into your hair.

Wow...It's so sad...but really beautiful...C-Could you teach me it, sometime?"

Of course," she said, kissing your forehead. "There! Your hair is done, do you want to see it?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed, bouncing.

She grabbed a small mirror from beside her and held it up for you to see. Your hair, once unmanageable and constantly tangled, was put into small, neat braids, woven with light blue and yellow ribbons.

"I love it!" you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around her. She hugged you back, setting the mirror back down. Once you pulled back, you asked, "How did you get them so tightly braided? My Mother could never braid my hair because she claimed she needed three hands to do it!"

Ukraine chuckled, smiling softly. "I'm good with my hands. Weaving and embroidery are a large part of my culture."

"Wow! I didn't know that," you said, tucking your knees under yourself. She nodded.

"And, I'll bet you didn't know that many of the earliest composers and performers within the Russian empire were ethnically Ukrainian, having been born or educated in Hlukhiv, or had been closely associated with that music school."

You shook your head, smiling widely. That was one positive thing you could say came out of being introduced to all these countries, you had a natural fascination with other countries cultures and histories.

Could you teach me more about your country?"

She looked a tad shocked, but it was a sort of 'I can't believe you actually want me to do that' shock. Then, she smiled widely and nodded. "Of course! I guess I should start at the beginning..."

- Time Skip to Five Hours Later -

The clock struck nine o' clock, interrupting the middle of her sentence about Soviet Ukraine, and what it was like. She hadn't even gotten to finish all of her history! But, as much as you wanted her to continue, you were exhausted. It was apparently obvious, since she asked you, "Hey, (y/n), isn't it time for you to be getting to bed?"

Nodding weakly, you yawned, your eyes threatening to flutter shut right there. "Hey, Mama, would you mind finishing this up another day?" you asked.

Wh-what did you call me?" she asked, her voice gentle, but shocked.

It was then that it struck you. You'd called her Mama. But, oddly enough, it fit her. It really felt like she was your Mother and, honestly, that's what you saw her as, a Mother figure.

"I called you Mama. You don't mind, do you?"

Shaking her head, she laughed and said, "No, not at all. And yes, we can continue this another day. Now, come on, let's get you to bed."

Grabbing your hand, she helped you up the stairs, since there was no way that you were going to make it up them on your own with how tired you were. After managing to get you dressed, she tucked you into bed and kissed your forehead.

"Good night, (y/n)."

"Wait, Mama! C-Could you *yawn* sing to me before I fall asleep?"

"Of course," she replied, sitting up on the bed and singing the exact same song to you that she'd sung earlier. You were asleep before the song was over.

IT'S FINALLY DONE! I got the idea when I was watching SkadiPirate's Ukraine video on youtube. THANK YOU, SKADIPIRATE AND YOUR AWESOME SONG CHOICES!

If you want the song that Ukraine is singing to the reader, go to youtube, and look up 'The sun is setting'

It's a Ukrainian Folk song, and a beautiful one at that. I am in love with it.

I hope this chapter was worth the wait! As always, please review!