I stay on the phone with Canada for awhile, but the second I hang up the phone rings again. This time I check the caller ID though, and when I see the name "Jones" flash across the phone's screen, I groan as I answer.

"Ciao, America—"

"Romano! Dude! Where's Spain at?" I open my mouth to answer, but America cuts me off. "Y'know what? Not important. But hey, can you tell him something for me?"

I scoff. I'm gonna be telling him a lot of "somethings" when he gets home. "Sure, America. What?"

"Tell him the hero says…. PARTY AT MY HOUSE TOMORROW! Five o'clock p.m., and you two HAVE TO BE THERE!" He says it so loudly I have to push the phone away from my ear for a minute. "Well…" America continues, sounding a bit guilty, "Iggy says it's not really a 'party.' It's a last-minute, super-important conference, but after we talk about all the important junk, there's going to be music and food and drinks and I thought, 'That's NOT a party?!'"

I walk over to the refrigerator and write "Conference tomorrow night, America's house, five p.m." on the magnetic notepad. Maybe instead of talking to the idiot when he gets home, I can just give him the silent treatment. It works just as fine.

...

I literally don't talk to Spain the entire day.

Okay, that's a lie. At noon I jumped on the couch to watch television, and Spain stood in front of me, probably wanting to talk about last night. I just told him to move, and when he didn't listen, I kicked him hard enough to give him a bruise.

So, yeah. I talked to him once so far today.

But as we walk to America's front door, Spain attempts to get me to talk to him. "Lovi, why won't you—"

But leave it to a little Italian to cut him off, I think as my brother runs towards us, getting out of Germany's parked car from the side of the road. "FRATELLOOOOOOO~~~! Wait for meeee~!"

Spain sighs, defeated, and walks into America's house. I stay behind to wait for Feli. When he finally reaches me, I ask, "Why do I have to wait for you, stupid?"

"I wanted us to walk into the house the same way we do everything else," he replies happily, taking my hand. "Together."

I nod at Germany, who walks up to us. "Why aren't you waiting with him?" Germany just rolls his eyes, saying, "Hallo to you too, Romano."

"Doitsu wants to wait for his fratello; Prussia," Italy responds, his smile never faltering.

At that moment, the three of us hear a crash from inside the house, followed by a "Dude, that was SO un-awesome!"

"Something tells me he's already inside," I say with a smirk. Germany just responds with a blank look and walks into the house, muttering something about his "lastige bruder." I look at my annoying brother and give his hand a gentle squeeze. "Come on, let's go inside."

Feliciano smiles and his face lights up brighter than the sun. I produce a half-smile, biting back the true smile that's fighting to appear on my face. We turn towards the double-door at the same time and each of us grabs a handle, pulling the doors open in perfect sync.

All the nations (well, the ones that haven't disappeared and are part of Europe or North America) are gathered in the living room, and they turn to look at us as we walk in. Two people stand in the center of the room and look at us too, but more slowly than the others. And one of them doesn't even look at me, but gazes at my brother instead.

Italy looks at that person and smiles, tears forming in his eyes. "J—Japan?" The old nation nods slowly, but my brother's smile grows wider. "Japan!" He runs to his friend and tackles him in a huge hug. Japan blinks with tear-stained eyes, but then smiles too and hugs Italy back. "Italy-kun… I'm sorry I left."

Italy shakes his head, pulling away but keeping his grip on his friend's shoulders. "It doesn't matter! You're here now, ve~!" He hugs Japan once more, and then turns back to the other nation. "China!" He hugs him, too.

I feel slightly awkward just standing here with all this hugging going on, so I make my way over to one of the walls and lean against it. "I—I don't understand," I say, looking at the two Asians in the room. "I thought you were staying with your continent. You know, following Vietnam's orders."

"It was a foolish idea, aru," China responds. "We thought the other Asian countries wanted to keep everyone safe, like they told us. But we both noticed they only care about themselves."

Japan nods again, but this time it's sad. "Hai. You see, when Greece disappeared, Turkey went after him—as much as the two fight, they are actually very close. But when Turkey's land began to fade…" He takes a deep breath. "When we realized Turkey had been taken, the others did not do anything about it."

"Sad, but true," China agrees. "They practically said 'good riddance,' aru."

Germany walks to his ally and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss, Japan. But you two are here now, where you belong." As everyone nods, he continues, "With your help, all of us can stop these disappearances, once and for all."

Japan and China smile, and the other countries cheer, happy with Germany's speech. America stands up from his spot on the couch and claps to get everyone's attention. "Okay, okay! Look, guys, there's plenty of time to prepare for the Fading and all. But tonight… we celebrate to welcome back our friends!"

Everyone cheers louder, and Prussia begins to blast music from America's stereo. A few nations run to the kitchen, pulling out food that they brought and setting them on tables. America high-fives China and Japan, saying, "Welcome back, dudes!" But I'm looking at the other blonde sitting behind them, the one who claimed his spot on a little chair near the corner, the one who is mouthing to me, I have something to tell you. I begin to walk up to him but someone jumps in front of me, blocking my way. I glare at the person with as much hatred as I can, which isn't too hard. "Move out of my way, idiota."

France sighs. "Mon petit Romano, are you truly angry with Antonio?"

I roll my eyes. "Oui, mon petit idiota. I am," I mock him in the best French accent I can come up with. "And I don't want to talk about it with you. I want to go talk to Canada."

France gasps and looks over his shoulder before looking back at me. "Oh, Canada! That's right, I have to speak with him, too!" Without another word, he runs off to my friend. I shrug. There's no way in heaven or hell I'm talking to Canada with France there, so I head into the kitchen to grab some food. I can talk to Canada in a little while.

When I open the door that leads to the kitchen—what kind of house has a kitchen in its own separate room?—Prussia bounces up to me. Literally bounces. As in, he's jumping around the room. "What's up, little meatball?" he slurs, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "How're you doing this fine, fine evening?"

I flinch when I realize how strong the smell of beer is on him. We've only been partying a while, and he's already drunk? Forget that idea, he was probably drunk before he got here. "What do you want, dannato idiota? Why is the 'awesome you' bothering to talk to the 'loudmouth Italian'?" I ask, throwing his words from the night before back in his face.

But Prussia just laughs, totally unfazed. "Kesesesese~ You're a cocky little thing, aren't you?" I shrug; it's true. "Anyways, I wanted to let you know that Francis and I will be kidnapping Toni again tonight. Bad Touch Trio Night Out, Part Two!" he says, pumping a fist in the air.

I shrug again. "Do what you want. My brother and I have plans anyway. We're going out for pizza."

"Aww~" Prussia pinches my cheek and my face heats up. "Such innocent little Italians!"

I slap his hand away. "I'm not innocent!" I mutter, pouting like I would when I was younger.

He winks. "So I've heard, kesesese~" Before I can ask what he means, Prussia bounces away, over to Austria. I sigh from relief when he leaves, and I walk over to the counter to see what America has to eat. It looks like he mostly has anything that can be deep-fried, hamburgers, and there are trays of food with small flags on them, showing what country brought them. I recognize some little chocolates from Belgium, wurst from Prussia (since Germany wasn't holding a tray when he walked in), and some burnt scones from England. Forget that. I just grab a burger and throw a tomato on it for good measure, then take a cup of some soft drink—probably Coke—and head into the living room again.

This time, Canada is sitting alone. He smiles a little when he sees me and I walk over to him, kneeling on the ground in front of him since he took up all the room on the chair. "So what did you want to tell me?" I ask.

The little smile on his face disappears. "O-Oh. Right. Well, Lovi, it's about the Fading…"

"Uh-uh." I shake my head. "Nope. We're not talking about that. You heard America. Tonight, we're celebrating. Here." I put my plate in his face, waving my burger back and forth. "Eat the burger."

Canada hesitates but takes the burger anyway, which seems out-of-character to me—but I push that thought away. He takes a bite and looks at me. "Non, Lovi. I know what Al said, but this is very important, eh!"

I look around, making sure no one is eavesdropping, and nod. "Okay. Tell me."

Canada takes a deep breath and bites into the burger again. "I think I know who's in charge of the Fading, eh."

My eyes grow wide. "Mio dio, Mattie. Who is it?"

"I—I'm not sure if I'm right, but if I am… he's here tonight." Canada looks down at his lap, probably too scared to look up in case he sees said person.

"Mattie, look, you have to tell me," I say softly. Canada just pales. "Hey. If you're right, we have to talk to this person and ask if it's true. We can accuse them in front of everyone!" Then I notice that my friend is getting paler and paler by the second. "Mattie. Are you okay?"

"I—I don't feel so great, Lovi," he admits, looking up at me. I put a hand to his cheek and frown. "Mattie, you're really clammy. I think you should go home and get some sleep."

Canada just stares at me. "But… I need to tell you who it is…"

I shake my head. "I don't care. What I care about is your health. Go home and get some sleep. France!" I wave the nation over, since he was standing not too far away, and look back at my friend. "France can drive you home. Just relax. Watch some TV or go to sleep or something. You can tell me who it is tomorrow, or if you're really worried, you can text me when you wake up from your rest."

Canada doesn't look too happy with this idea, but he nods as France joins us. "You called, Romano?" France asks. Then he looks at Canada and his face softens. "Amour, are you all right? You look ill."

"I'm just not feeling too great," Canada says again. "It's probably nothing; just Al and his greasy food, eh..." He puts the burger down and places the plate on the floor, next to the spot where I put down my drink. France nods understandingly and tells us, "I'll be waiting in my car."

When he walks out the door, Canada smiles at me. "Thank you, Lovi, for caring about me." I lean forward and hug him, feeling myself smile as I tell him, "I could say the same to you." I walk Canada to the door and watch to make sure he gets to France's car safely. They drive away and I wave after them, then close the door and look at the party unfolding in front of me. I can only think of one thing.

I know whoever's doing this is evil, but how evil can someone be if he can stand to be in the same room as the "friends" he's killing?