Hooray! I finished another chapter! I stayed up all night to finish off my lab reports (three due on the same day... blarg.) and yesterday I was so sleepy, but today I am alert again! Somewhat.

And so, here is another installment of The Shooting Star's Revenge. Enjoy~~

"Hey," said Prussia, "let's play a game."

"Very well," said Austria, not even looking up from the page. "It shall be called the Statue Game and the way you play is by seeing who can stay still and quiet for the longest amount of time."

"Ve, that sounds fun!" Italy piped up. "Oh no! I made noise! I lose…"

"No, I mean an actual game!" Prussia whined. "Not some made-up one a parent made up one day to shut the kids up! I want to play a team sport, like volleyball or soccer or something!"

"Well, good luck playing it by yourself," said Austria.

"Oh, come on, Roderich," said Hungary, "what's the point of coming all the way here just to do something you could've done at home anyways?" She snatched his book away, ignoring his cries of protest. "Let's help Gilbert think of something!"

"I have a bad feeling about this," Germany muttered.

"For once, I agree with you," said Romano.

Half an hour later, the three had finalized the rules of The Awesome Prussia's Knee-to-Ankle-Deep Water Capture the Flag. "It's very simple," Prussia told Spain, Romano, Italy and Germany, while Hungary dragged Austria off to change into his trunks. "It's a game Mattie plays a lot. Basically, you have to try and capture the other team's flag and get it onto your side. But since it's kind of hard to draw boundaries, I modified it to make it even more awesome! We'll be using these," he held up a bunch of giant white flags Italy had lent him, "and the way it'll work is: each team starts with two flags, and the first to get all four wins! Now, here comes the awesome part: unlike that wussy sport Mattie plays, we don't divide the playing field into territories so you get tagged when you're on the opponent's side. Nope, it's one big free-for-all! You can pass the flag to a teammate if you get cornered, but if you drop it, it gets taken back to the starting point. And the way you get someone to drop the flag is by tackling them, or incapacitating them in any way. Anything goes! Biting, kicking, tripping, clawing, punching, groping, tickling… dry humping…" He cleared his throat. "Right! Any questions? None? Great, let's divide up the teams! I want Feli and Tonio."

"Yay, Prussia!" Italy cheered. "And Spain-niichan!" He gave both of them a hug.

"Aww, Lovi, aren't you jealous?" said Spain as he returned the gesture. "Come hug me too!" He spread his arms invitingly.

Romano scowled. "Fat chance, bastard."

"Lovi… I'm sad…"

"Deal with it."

"Ve, Doitsu!" said Italy. "Doitsu, will you be on our team? Pretty please?"

"Sorry, Feli!" said Prussia. "I think I'll split up the couples to make things more interesting! Don't you think it'll be more awesome that way?"

"But I don't want to fight Doitsu…"

"You're not fighting him, just going against him in a game! It's okay, it'll be fun!" He smiled reassuringly.

"Ve… okay…"

Realization dawned on Romano. "Wait, does that mean I'm teamed up with…?"

"Well, if I'm on this side, and we're a couple…" said Spain.

"Fuuuuuuuuckkkkkkk!" Romano hissed. "Damn it, this is the worst rule ever! Prussia, I demand you put me on your team! I'd rather face that bastard Spain and my idiot brother than… than…!" He glared at Germany.

"Oh, Lovi~~~~" Spain beamed. "I love you too~~~~~"

"Shut up."

"And you know what? When I said 'we're a couple,' it made me feel really happy! Doesn't it make you feel happy too?"

"G-go away!"

"Hehehe! Did your voice just waver for a second? Are you secretly agreeing with everything I say?"

Romano huffed. "As if, jerk."

"Right," said Prussia, "let's split up Austria and Hungary as well! I'll take Hungary."

"Just a minute," Hungary cut in as she returned, pushing a reluctant Austria in front of her. The latter was blushing and trying to shield his legs from view. "You've picked enough people. It's time someone else got a say in this. And I say… I want to go on Germany's team."

"So this is why," Prussia muttered, glaring at the Austrian in front of him.

"I told you I didn't want to play. This is what you get for disregarding my wishes," Austria replied.

"So this is your brilliant plan," Germany mused, watching the two glare daggers at each other. "It's, well, brilliant."

Hungary flashed him a thumbs up. "There'll be so much infighting they won't even be able to pay attention to the game! I couldn't convince Roderich to ditch the shirt, though. What a disappointment…"

"Now, now," said Spain, squeezing himself between Prussia and Austria to stop their bickering, "let's set aside our differences and work together, okay? We have a game to win! Right, Italy?"

"Ve!"

Austria sighed. "Very well. But only this once."

"Hungary would've been better," Prussia grumbled.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not her!"

"You should be sorry!"

"Spain-niichan, I've set up the flags!" Italy reported, pointing to where he'd stuck the flagpoles into the sand.

"Well done, Feli! Seems like you and I will have to work harder to make up for those two." He sighed. "But we're awesome nations! We can do it!"

"Yes sir!"

"Now let's beat the crap out of Team Hungary!"

"…Not Team Doitsu?"

"Sorry. She is the captain…"

"Ve…"

Germany, Hungary and Romano had erected their flags on the other end of the beach. When Hungary waved, signaling game start, Spain said, "Well, I guess this is it. Go, Feliciano! I'll stay and guard the flags."

"Yes sir!"

Meanwhile, the other team had decided to leave Hungary in defense while Germany and Romano attacked. "Today," Romano mumbled as he ran, "I have to ally myself with that stupid potato bastard." He sidestepped as Prussia advanced, arms stretched in an attempt to intercept them. "God, why do You hate me? Is it because I married a man?"

Austria, with a Tarzan-like yell, jumped on Germany. "I am sorry! I really don't want to be doing this, but they're forcing me to—hmm?" With a groan, he realized that Germany had just continued running while dragging him along. "I knew it… I'd be better off reading…"

Germany easily shook him off and continued running.

Italy, meanwhile, had gotten as far as five yards from his goal. He stopped there, unsure of what to do. Hungary was grinning menacingly, and he didn't want to get molested again… "Veeeeeeee! Spain-niichan, what do I do now?" he wailed.

But Spain was busy guarding the flags from Romano and Germany, who were approaching fast. Prussia, meanwhile, was splashing towards Austria, determination in his eyes. "Hang on, Tonio, I'm coming!" He seized Austria and launched him at Germany. "Britannia—I mean, Preußen Cannon!"

A screaming brunette whizzed through the air, crashing into Germany's butt. Both hit the water with a loud splash. "Y-you!" Austria sputtered as he surfaced. "You could've aimed higher, you know!"

Prussia was laughing too hard to care.

Romano, meanwhile, had successfully beaten up Spain and was already racing back with one of the flags. Italy decided to change objectives and charged at him, tackling his brother with a dogged "Ve~~~~~!" Then, while Romano was still disoriented, he wrenched the flag out of his hands and ran back, waving it triumphantly. While he was twirling it in one hand, Germany reached out and snatched it from him.

"Nooooooooo! Doitsuuuuuuuu!" Italy tried to get it back, but Germany held it over his head, out of the Italian's reach.

Austria picked himself up, dripping wet and livid. "Prussia, you—you—[CENSORED]! How dare you use that technique! You'll pay for that!" He pointed to the albino, who was fighting off Romano and Hungary as he made for the opposition's flags. Then he stripped off his shirt, which was clinging annoyingly to his skin.

Hungary gaped. As she did, she let go of Prussia, who, free of one hindrance, easily took care of the other and took one of the flags. Then he ran back to his side, cackling. Hungary continued gawking at the shirtless Austria.

The German brothers met halfway. For some reason, Prussia decided to take out Germany and bring both flags back. "Think fast, West!" he shouted, swinging his flag at him like a sword. Germany barely managed to duck out of the way. Prussia swung at him again; this time, Germany parried with his own flag. The two exchanged heated glares. Then Germany stepped away from Prussia and continued running.

"West, you coward!" Prussia called after him. "You call yourself a man?" But Romano had gotten his second wind and the effects of Austria's shirtlessness had started to wear off, so he went back to his team. Italy was crying about how Germany had stolen the flag from him, Austria was feeling self-conscious walking around bare-chested and Spain was trying to keep everyone's morale up with another (retarded) cheer-up charm. "It's okay, we'll beat them yet!" said Prussia, patting Italy's shoulder. "We need a game plan…"

"No more Preußen Cannon," Austria stated sternly. "The cannonball refuses to cooperate."

"Ve, we could use the, uh… 'Florentine Flash,'" Italy suggested.

"What's that?"

"That's where I take my clothes off and hug someone, ve~!"

"Uh… no, that's okay. You can keep that attack to the bedroom—"

"Kesesesesese! Feli, you're awesome! That would work so well against West! Think you could pull it off?"

"Italy, I demand you keep what little clothing you have on, on! I will not stand for nudity during this ridiculous game!"

"Um, guys…" Spain interrupted, "I hate to break up your conversation, but…" He pointed.

Team Hungary was going kamikaze.

"Quick, which of us here is the fastest?" said Prussia as all three opponents ran at them. "Tonio! You did the 100-meter dash in 11 seconds once, right? We'll hold them off; you go and bring their flags back!"

Spain saluted. "Got it!"

"Feli, take care of Romano! Austria, get Hungary! I'll handle my bruder! Everyone ready?"

"Yeah!"

"Ve!"

"I'm starting to hate this more and more…"

Before Austria knew what was happening, Germany was upon him, trying to screw up Prussia's plan. Swearing, Prussia grabbed the waistband of his brother's trunks and pulled. "Preuβen Wedgie!" he sneered as Germany let go of Austria with a cry. "Now—" But Hungary had run by him and was approaching the flags, fast. Austria sighed. He didn't think he would have to do this, but if they lost the game Prussia would bother him to no end… He cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Erzsébet," he called, "the trunks are coming off too."

Hungary stopped dead in her tracks. "Really~~~~?" She turned around, a hungry look in her eyes. Austria felt his heart sink. Oh, why had he just done this to himself?

Romano, meanwhile, had beaten Italy to a pulp. While Hungary ogled Austria, he retrieved the flags and started heading back to his side. Prussia, upon realizing what had happened, abandoned Germany and gave chase. Romano screamed and ran faster, but the albino was quickly gaining on him. That was when Germany played his trump card.

"Blackie! Berlitz! Aster!" he called to the dogs lounging on the sand. He pointed at Prussia. "Voraus!"

The dogs jumped up and ran after Prussia, barking excitedly. Blackie tugged on his trunks, while Aster and Berlitz bowled him over. "Curse you, Weeeeeeest!" he shrieked as he flipped forward into the water, arms flailing wildly. The dogs circled him, barking and wagging their tails as Germany approached.

"Good dogs," he said, patting their heads.

Romano breathed a sigh of relief when he realized the potato bastard's annoying brother was out of the way. He was so concentrated on what was going on behind him that he didn't even realize Spain was running towards him in the opposite direction until they'd collided head-on. The flags hit the water. "Shit!" Romano hissed, bending over to pick them up.

Spain, unfortunately, had the same idea at the same time and as he leaned over they conked heads. "Ow!" the Spaniard cried as he straightened up. "Hehe! Careful, Lovi!" When Romano continued going for the flags he quickly kicked them out of the way, towards his own end. "Hahahaha! Look, Lovi! I'm winning!" He lashed his foot out to kick them again, accidentally stepped on one, and lost his balance, nearly squishing Romano as he landed on his bottom. "Look, Lovi, I'm not winning," he sighed as the Italian gathered the flags. He looked for his team members. Austria was being harassed by Hungary. Prussia was fighting off three rambunctious dogs. Italy… he hated to admit it, but there was a reason Team Prussia was allowed to have an extra member. He gulped. It was up to him now.

"Lovi!" he squealed, jumping to his feet. Romano started and whacked him with a flagpole. "OW! Don't be mean… now there's going to be a lump on my head. Hey, hey, I was thinking, you look really cute in your bikini—OW! Seriously, Lovi, please stop that… But really, have you looked at yourself in a mirror? Oh my gosh, that cute little butt of yours, and your belly, and your curves, ahahaha, I'll be having wet dreams for weeks! And," he circled an arm around Romano's waist and cupped his other hand over his breast, "here…"

Romano blushed. "P-pervert!" he cried, taking a swipe at Spain. But the older man was ready this time, and grabbed the weapon before it could get anywhere near his head. Then, while keeping Romano's hands occupied, he rolled the remaining three flags behind him with his foot. He backed up as far as he could and, with one fluid motion, twisted the final one out of his lover's grip, picked up the others, and ran. Romano swore and lunged at him. He missed Spain's shoulders, but he did manage to hook his fingers on his waistband.

It was Spain's turn to scream when he suddenly felt a breeze where he shouldn't have. "LOVIIIIIIIIII!" He transferred the flags to one hand as he desperately tried to cover his privates (upon hearing the scream Hungary had looked up like some wild creature). Romano attacked him. The two thrashed about in the water, each trying to get a hold of the prized possessions. Suddenly they felt a third party's hand seize the pole, and looked up.

"Ciao," said Italy, waving as he eased one of the flags out of their grip. Romano jumped forward in an effort to take it back, but instead he flopped uselessly into the water, crushing Spain underneath him. The moment he'd grasped the flag, Italy turned and ran back, waving it over his head. "Yay! I got one!" he beamed. "Doitsu, Doitsu, look! I got one!"

Alas, Germany did look.

The next thing he knew, he was being charged at by a fiercely determined blond, the dogs close behind him. Italy squealed and ran. Hungary blocked his way. In another rare moment of competence, Italy stabbed the flagpole into the ground in front of him and vaulted over her. He stumbled and fell on the other side, but Austria came to the rescue, putting himself between Italy and the crazy perverted woman. "Sorry, I'm going to borrow this," he said, picking up the flag. Then, raising it over his head, he mumbled a short prayer and hurled it like a javelin.

"Preußen Cannon. Shoot! I mean, Viennese Cannon!"

It sailed over Germany's head, making him stop and stare as it whizzed by, and Spain, who had managed to stand up, reached out and caught it. Romano, refusing to give up, clung tenaciously to his waist.

"Tonio! Over here!" Prussia called out as Germany headed toward Spain. "I'll catch th—ow." He rubbed his forehead as he picked up the first one. The second one hit him in the shoulder and he almost didn't grab it in time before Hungary was upon him. "Sorry, you're not beating me this time, Elizabeta!" he crowed as he took off for his team's side. Spain had thrown another flag to Italy and Austria, who had (somehow) both gotten hit and were dazedly following Prussia's lead. He looked down at the last flag in his hand. Then at Romano's hands, which had latched on to the other end.

It all came down to this.

Romano seemed to sense Spain's sudden resolve and desperately tried to twist the flag out of his grip, but Spain was prepared and gave it a hard tug, throwing Romano off-balance. Still, the Italian managed to hold on and regain his bearings. That was when Spain suddenly changed tactics and started molesting him. Romano squeaked and tried to pull away, but to no avail. Eventually, he gave up trying to escape and headed straight for Spain, tackling him with a long-suppressed battle cry. A few moments later, Spain emerged from the heated wrestling match that had ensued, holding the flag triumphantly over his head. "Hooray!" he cheered. "I guess this means we wi—oh…"

In the time it had taken for him to win the fight, Hungary had beaten up Italy and Prussia and stolen their flags.

Romano body-slammed him from behind and wrenched the flag from his hands. Now Hungary had three flags while Romano had the last one.

Team Hungary had won.

"Yayyyyyy Doitsu!" Italy chirped, hugging Germany. He had forgotten that his own team had lost.

"Darn it, this is all your fault!" Prussia yelled at Austria. "I don't know how and frankly I don't care, but it's your fault!"

Maybe the fact that Hungary had spared the Austrian during her butt-kicking had something to do with it. Austria, at least, was relatively bruise-free and his glasses were still intact. He pushed them up higher on his nose and glared condescendingly at Prussia. "I told you to leave me out of the game."

"There, there," said Germany, patting his brother's shoulder, "we'll have some ice cream to cheer you up."

"Ve!" Italy grinned.

Prussia sniffled. "Mattie likes ice cream…"

"Who?"

"I-it's nothing!" He waved his hands frantically, blushing.

Germany raised an eyebrow.

"Yes! Ice cream sounds fantastic!" said Spain as he joined them, carrying Romano on his back. "Right, Lovi?"

"S-sure…"

"Then it's decided! Let's have ice cream!"

They spent the remaining hours of afternoon eating Haagen-Dazs and for the most part everything was peaceful… until Prussia smashed a bowl of ice cream in Austria's face.

"Ve, I had lots of fun today!" said Italy as he helped Germany unload the car. "How about you, Doitsu?"

"Mhm." Germany closed the trunk and accompanied him inside. "Me too." Romano, after a lot of sweet talk and promises of tomatoes and churros (and more molesting) from Spain, had finally allowed Italy to return home, though he himself was staying at his place for another day to tidy it up. Spain had stayed "to help Lovi out," though Germany suspected the sunny Spaniard had ulterior motives… and speaking of ulterior motives… He closed the front door and locked it. The bolt slid into place with a soft click. Then he took a deep breath.

"Ve, I wonder what we should have for dinner!" Italy mused. He turned to Germany. "Doitsu, what do you th—Doitsu?" Germany was hunched over, his back to Italy. His hands were gripping the doorknob; they were trembling. "D-Doitsu, are you okay?"

Slowly, Germany turned around. Italy gasped at the look in his eye. "Doitsu—"

People are depressing when they don't review. * insert Russia's kol face