Aw man, y'all guessed Belarus so quickly. I wanted to make Sweden Death, but I just remembered that he's hanging around Heaven OTL Death's addition was a last-minute thing, you see.

And Tino is totally Santa in this universe, FYI.

Yeah.

AZNS. I love you flaming homo son :'D

And because of that bastard son of mine, I've been bullied into saying Yong Soo instead of just Im. So y'all know how it is.

Wang Yao, strictly speaking, shouldn't be a name. I mean there should be three names in there right? Wang would be his surname and his given name would be Yao Something. Either that or Hidekaz never gave him a surname and he's just Wang Yao.

Fuck, that really makes me want to name him Wang Yao Ming. Then people could be all, "Yao Ming? You have the same name as the legendary basketballer?" and he'd be like, "fuck y'all, I'm older. Yao Ming has the same name as ME."

Bodies surrounded Yao on every side. To his left, there were corpses. To his right, there were corpses. Everywhere he looked, there were corpses. That would have been bad enough on a normal day, but the worst part about all this was that these particular corpses didn't even have the decency to act dead.

They shuffled toward him with determination, albeit slowly, groaning like nothing Yao had ever heard before. He hefted the crowbar in his hands and brought it down on the head of one zombie. It fell, unmoving. But before he even had the time to congratulate himself, another zombie had taken its place. Yao swung at that one too, arms feeling tired. He had been doing this all day and the zombies didn't seem to be lessening in number. If anything, Yao suspected that some of them were getting back up after being knocked down. Cheating bastards.

"BRAAAAINS," one of them said, making Yao jump and swat at it as hard as he could. He shouldn't have been surprised, really. They had been saying this all day. It was probably the only thing they knew how to say. At least they were expressing their desires effectively.

Yao wondered where his friends had gone. He didn't think they were dead; he would probably have felt that. Yet, he had not seen them in what felt like hours. For all he knew, they could be trapped somewhere and despairing.

Come to think of it, he was dealing with zombies, not strictly ghosts, right? They were undead. Walking dead. Dead come back to life. Any number of words meaning the same thing. The point is they weren't really dead dead. So it made sense that Yao might not be able to sense them. He was sensitive to ghosts and spirits, after all, but how could he predict what he would feel when faced with a horde of zombies, which were pretty much breaking every rule the underworld had in the first place? Perhaps Kiku and Yong Soo had been zombified and Yao didn't even know. That would really suck.

"Brians!" screeched one zombie, popping up behind Yao. Yao spun around, crowbar raised, but stopped suddenly as his brain caught up with his ears. He blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Brians?" repeated the zombie, suddenly seeming unsure of itself. Yao furrowed his eyebrows, perplexed.

"I'm sorry, my name isn't Brian-"

He was interrupted by a tribal scream. Fearing the worst, Yao turned and saw two figures standing at the top of the nearest building, which wasn't very high. The first figure cackled, and Yao knew immediately who it was.

The man on the building held up what looked like an aerosol, and something else Yao couldn't quite make out. He saw a flicker of fire. Eyes widening, Yao realised what was going to happen and yelped, diving for cover behind a dumpster. Unfortunately for the zombies, they were not so quick to move.

"EAT RIGHTEOUS FIRE, MOTHERFUCKERS!" the man cried, and pressed his finger onto the aerosol. Like something out of an action movie, a jet of flame shot toward the horde of zombies, setting more than half of them alight.

From behind the dumpster, Yao bit back another scream. The fire was coming towards him. Eyes squeezing shut of their own accord, he held up his arms, in a futile attempt to ward of the flames-

-and fell off the bed.

He blinked at the ceiling, which was distinctly lacking in any manner of fire whatsoever.

"What the fuck."

Had all that been just a dream? It seemed far too vivid to be just a dream. And yet, there were no zombies to be seen.

Yao sighed and sat up, joints creaking and making him wince. He reached up and found his alarm clock. It was eight o'clock. Far too early to be waking up on a holiday. But Yao knew he would not be able to get back to sleep, and besides, his stomach was beginning to make strange noises, so he hoisted himself out of the tangle of sheets and made his way to the kitchen.

Yao swore as he nearly tripped over Kiku's dog, which had been lying almost directly outside Yao's door. It looked up at him innocently, wagging its tail as though it had not just tried to kill him. He shot the Pochi a dirty look.

Rubbing his eyes and still grumbling, he finally reached the kitchen without tripping over the rest of the clutter. He made a mental note to make Yong Soo clean all of it up later.

He looked up and noticed Kiku already sitting at the kitchen counter with a teapot and a plate of toast. The young Japanese man looked up at Yao's arrival and gave him a nod as greeting. He turned back to the teapot in front of him and picked it up to pour himself a cup. Almost immediately, the handle of the teapot broke off and it fell, spilling tea all over the counter and on Kiku. The man sighed.

Without missing a beat, Yao handed him a cloth. Kiku smiled wearily and began cleaning himself up.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Yao asked, noticing a patch of tea that had spilled disturbingly close to Kiku's privates, and wincing in sympathy. Kiku shook his head. "I thought this might happen, so I made the tea cold." He sighed unhappily and righted the broken teapot. Yao patted him on the shoulder.

"Kiku, you know it's a Thursday. Why did you even bother trying to make yourself breakfast?"

"I wanted some, and you and Yong Soo were still asleep," Kiku's face fell further, reminded again of how for some reason, he had horrible luck, but only on Thursdays. Yong Soo said it was because he had pissed off the god of Thursdays somehow. Kiku had not believed him at first, but was beginning to wonder if Yong Soo was actually right. Yao smiled sympathetically.

"You should have just asked. I'm not like that bastard Soo, who ditches you every Thursday and only shows up the next day."

"You should be," replied Kiku sullenly. "My bad luck affects you too, you know that."

Yao shrugged his shoulders. "Why didn't we just get a plastic teapot, anyway?"

"We did. The cup broke instead."

"Oh, right. We should replace all of our cutlery with plastic, shouldn't we," he noted. Kiku shook his head. "We did that too, but all of it melted somehow. It's all in a lump now. It's only good as a paperweight." He started buttering what was left of his toast, even though it was already tea-flavoured.

"Huh." Yao absentmindedly took the knife out of his roommate's hand. "You know you're not allowed to handle sharp objects on Thursdays."

From the hallway, they heard a muffled thump and a stream of curses. Yao snorted. "You should tell your dog to stop trying to trip people up. It's hardly pleasant to wake up in the morning and come out of your room, and the first thing that you see is the floor and that little bugger looking innocent."

"He wouldn't listen even if I punished him. He does the same thing to me," Kiku muttered darkly. Yong Soo walked into the kitchen then, glaring daggers at the small ball of fluff that was following. "I swear to all the gods on Earth, Kiku, one day I'm gonna kill that dog. I'll run over it and pretend the Canadian kid did it. You wait."

Kiku shrugged and grimaced at the taste of his toast. He turned around in his seat and tossed it into the rubbish bin. It missed and fell on the ground with a soft splat. Kiku facepalmed.

"Oh, it's Thursday again, isn't it," Yong Soo called over his shoulder even as he dug through the cupboard for some Froot Loops. He poured a small mountain of them into a bowl.

"How do you keep getting into my apartment?" demanded Yao. "You're supposed to be living next door. One of these days I'm going to throw all your stuff out."

Yong Soo ignored him, knowing that Yao's threats were always empty. He'd probably sooner sell off his own apartment than really chase Yong Soo out, even though the man was constantly eating their food and sleeping in their spare room, whether Yao knew about it or not. Speaking of selling apartments, Yong Soo should probably break the news to them that he'd sold off the neighbouring unit and had moved in full-time with them. But that could probably wait till later. Instead, he sat down next to them."Kiku, pass the milk. No, on second thought, don't touch it. Yao, you give it to me." The youngest of the three, the Korean man stuffed a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Yao cleared his throat. "I had a really weird dream," said the Chinese man conversationally. "And I mean really weird. It was about zombies. Well, I've actually been having a lot of dreams about zombies lately, but this one was more vivid. One of them kept saying 'brians' instead of 'brains.' You two were in it."

Yong Soo immediately looked interested. "Really? What was I? Was I a badass zombie-slayer? I bet I was. Was I?"

Yao gave Yong Soo a very dirty look. "You were a fucking lunatic, as usual. Nearly killed me. You had a lighter and an aerosol spray. I don't even know why Kiku let you carry that shit around."

Kiku shrugged apologetically. Yong Soo grinned. "A home-made flamethrower! That's definitely awesomeness worthy of me."

Yao blinked suddenly, an epiphany hitting him like how Soo had done the first time he'd been allowed to ride a scooter. He thought about the conversation he'd had with his deceased acquaintance by text the other night. "Maybe itwas another prophecy."

Yong Soo rolled his eyes. "Not this again. Dude, you keep saying your dreams are prophecies, but they never come true. Just give it up."

It was exactly what he had been thinking that night, but Yao looked offended nonetheless. "Well excuse me for being psychic. I can't really help being the Chosen One, you know? You should be grateful that I'm even sharing this information with you. I could be saving your life from a zombie apocalypse, and you don't even care."

"Well, to be fair, you've had dozens of 'predictions', and none of them have ever come true," Kiku interjected. "Remember the one about the McDonald's? If I recall correctly you had a dream about a meat freezer. How is that prophetic? And you dreamt about a demon dog. That's highly improbable at best. And you had a dream in which the Canadian kid finally got a girlfriend. Poor guy was hopeful for weeks. And then there was that recent one about two guys having tea in Europe or wherever. I don't even know what the point behind that was. And then there was the one about really long lines at the post office, which by the way doesn't really concern anyone unless one of us decides to mail a letter. And now it's more zombies. If you ask me, it's not that you're getting visions of the future, but you've been eating really weird food before bed. Which you should probably stop doing, by the way, or you might get indigestion."

"All these dreams are going to come true, you mark my words," replied Yao hotly. "I've been dreaming about angels and demons lately. If that's not an omen I don't know what is. Although, strictly speaking, they didn't quite fit in with what I traditionally thought of as deities."

"What?" asked Yong Soo intelligently, still stuffing his face with colourful hoops. Yao wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Learn some table manners, would you? God."

"Which God?"

Yao ignored him. "Granted the angels in my dream were a little weird, and so were the demons, but I've got a strong feeling. I dreamt that they were going to mess some serious shit up on Earth and we should be prepared. The spirits don't lie."

"Bull, the spirits haven't told you jack, have they?" Yong Soo snorted. Yao bristled.

"Well, how about we hand the job of being a psychic to you, eh? Until you actually know what you're talking about, don't try to act like an expert."

Yong Soo was about to retort, when Kiku placed a hand on his arm to shut him up. "Now, now," he said soothingly, "there's no point in getting into arguments, is there? It's a public holiday, let's enjoy it."

"But-" Yong Soo began, but Kiku glared at him. "Let's not argue," he repeated. His voice was level, but carried subtle undertones of shut the fuck up or I'll cut you. Yong Soo shut up.

"Come to think of it," said Yao, glancing at the window, where he could see people already bustling about outside, "we had to go somewhere today, right? Gotta get to the restaurant."

Yong Soo groaned. "What, really? But it's a national holiday! Why do we have to go to work?"

"Because we have to count stocks. We discussed this," said Kiku calmly, ignoring Yong Soo's protests. "Look, it's no big deal. All we have to do is count things. And you'd probably just sit there and do nothing like you always do, anyway. Besides, every other store in the country is closed. You can't go out for a movie or to get food or anything, so you might as well do something useful today. And at least we're getting paid for this."

"I could easily stay home and play Halo," Yong Soo whined, but the others ignored him.

No, I don't know what holiday it is, it's just A Holiday, okay? Geez.

HAHA. OOC azns are OOC, but that's because I originally wrote them as different characters and had to edit them to fit Hetalia-verse so I could post this on FF. Hence, out-of-character people. But nobody really minds, right? D: Hell, I've bastardised things enough already. What's another few?

I don't like that little red squiggly line you're putting under my "bastardised", Google. Fuck you, I'll spell things as British as I want. Fuck you and your anti-limey attitude. Damn Yanks.

Okay, in case you're wondering, Gilbert was the Earth's very first zombie. This is why nothing has been noticed yet. God, if I had to explain that in the note here then I really fail, huh? :C Anyway, Azns like I promised. They appear really late, don't they? LOL sorry. Oh, well. Now we just have to wait for the Canadian kid and we'll have the full ensemble! :D

He doesn't, by the way, have a name. He's just The Canadian Kid. That's all. I mean he's probably theoretically got a name, but nobody remembers it. His parents used to call him Number Two. As you can imagine that was the premise for a lot of name-calling as a child. Or it would have been, had the bullies ever noticed him. If there even are bullies in Canada.

Cuz Canadians are cool like that.

Yeah.