Author's Note: There's another poll up in my profile, this time about The Hetalian Fame. I would appreciate it if you took a moment to answer it.

Title: I Am...A Hetalian

Song: Video Phone

No, seriously, for real. Island nations were not supposed to be contacted this much.

The World Meeting had been unproductive, as usual. Germany had announced right away that the nations had gathered there to discuss ways to get the global economy back on track, but America had interrupted him right away to shamelessly plug The Rally to Restore Sanity and The March to Keep Fear Alive. This had caused Italy to cry out in terror and beg for Germany to save him from the scary march, to which America cheered that the march was working. Romano had then threatened to send more mobsters to America's place, but he was quickly distracted when Spain shoved a tomato in his mouth to keep him occupied. Some of the tomato bits had landed on Austria, who nearly screamed at the concept of his lovely clothes becoming dirty. Hungary almost smacked him with her frying pan. Latvia shook in fear at the mere thought of being panned and eventually passed out, to which Estonia screamed at the top of his lungs and suddenly jerked his chair. The force had caused Lithuania, who was sitting next to him, to bump into Poland, who threw a temper tantrum since the shove had caused the nail polish brush to slip and get pink polish all over his fingers. Not only that, but his lovely nails were ruined, and the bottle toppled, letting the liquid leak all over the table. Bulgaria just shook his head in disgust. Netherlands, however, was fully captivated by the pink polish and wondered how cute Belgium would look in said color. That was when South Korea started ranting about how colors had originated in Korea and accused everyone of stealing his color designs. When China tried to calm him down, the Korean latched onto him, and China needed Vietnam to pry him off his body, specifically his chest, with her oar.

Very unproductive indeed.

But it wasn't like Greece cared. He was asleep before Germany even began speaking.

That was why he didn't hear Germany announce that the meeting was over. Or, rather, he didn't hear Germany shout in frustration about how everyone couldn't shut up for two seconds and drag a sobbing Italy out the double doors of the meeting room. The others had taken that as a sign that the meeting was over and gathered their things together to leave.

Before Japan left, he approached the sleeping nation. "Greece-san?" he said quietly. "Greece-san, the meeting is over. We have to go."

Greece lazily opened his eyes, stretched, and stood. A cat latched onto his shirt and refused to move until he agreed to let it lie on his head as he walked out of the room. "Thanks for waking me," he murmured as he yawned again.

Japan nodded and walked with his friend out the door. "It's nothing, really. By the way, are you busy over the next few days?"

Greece scratched the cat on his head as the two made their way down the stairs to the main level. "No, why?"

Japan just winked.

The message was loud and clear.

"There's a flight to Tokyo this afternoon," Japan said as the two made their way to the main exit of the building. "We should make it there by tomorrow afternoon, with the time change and all."

Greece nodded. "I hope there's still a seat in the back."

Japan's face immediately fell. "Greece-san, there is absolutely no reason why you should fly in the back of the plane. You should sit up front with me. Or...oh, my goodness, please don't tell me I did something rude last time we were on a plane next to each other. Did I snore or something?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I just thought that I would get a seat in the back to...save some money."

"...You sound like Switzerland-san."

"Yeah, and I hate it."

"But what can you do when your economy sucks beyond belief!"

An angry shiver went down Greece's spine, and his hair stood on end. He knew that loud, obnoxious voice all too well. "Shut up, stupid Turk," he muttered as he opened the exit door. "This had nothing to do with you, Mr. I Couldn't Get into the EU to Save Myself."

Turkey smirked smugly. "Hey, I may not be able to use the Euro yet, but at least my currency isn't failing me. And at least my economy isn't worse than America's."

Another angry shiver. Turkey knew exactly where Greece's buttons were, and he knew just how to press them.

Greece was just about to fight back when Japan spoke up. "Turkey-san, I'm afraid that I have to agree with Greece-san on this. This is something for him to figure out on his own, and he is a good person for wanting to save money wherever he can. That means that he has his country's best interest in mind. Now, if you'll excuse us..." He bowed quickly and opened the exit door, taking Greece's arm and bringing him outside.

Once away from Turkey, Japan opened his (new) cell phone and dialed the airport. As the phone rang, he smiled up at his friend. "I'll pay for your seat up front. That way you can save even more money."

"Japan..."

"Shh, I insist. Only...animals aren't allowed on the flight."

"Meow!"

Their outfits were perfect.

Japan slipped a red and black striped, zip-up sweatshirt covered with safety pins over a leather, corset-like top. Underneath it was a fishnet shirt that covered his arms and ended around his hands. Each of his fingers showed off a ring, each one in a different size and style. A spiked choker decorated his neck, and the spikes themselves were long, sharpened, and dangerous. An ornate cross also dangled from his neck. The jeans were dark, torn up, and covered with patches designed with different, anime-like characters. The shoes were large and clunky, as usual, but they were more like clogs than boots. Japan placed the wig with the black, gray, and blond hair flying all over the place on his head and then went to work applying his make-up. He aimed to look as pale as possible and yet made his eyes are dark as possible.

Greece buttoned a white shirt covered in red bloodstains. He then slipped a studded leather jacket over it and added several metal bracelets to his wrists. They were under the yellow and black striped, fingerless gloves he wore, which matched his painted nails. Around his neck, he had painted several stitches and written several kanji (with Japan's help, of course). His jeans were faded and torn at the knees with safety pins and chains to hold them together. His shoes were leather boots that reached to just under his knees. The wig he wore had orange and blond hair curled to the left so that the hair on the right stood up in little spikes.

"All set."

Japan finished his make-up and looked at his friend. He narrowed his eyes slowly. "It's missing something," he announced. He then snapped his fingers, opened a drawer at his desk, and pulled out a surgical mask. "Put this on."

Greece did as he was told and looked in the mirror. "Wow," he mused, "that does look better."

"I knew it! It goes along with the blood theme you've got going on."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now let's go! Stay here and be good, okay, Pochi? Keep any kitties who come by company."

"Woof!"

Japan led Greece out of his Tokyo home and guided him through the different parts of the city until they made it to Shinjuku. Once there, they headed towards a rather small club on a dark corner where the most devoted of Visual Kei fans hung out.

"Are you opening for anyone tonight?" Greece asked absentmindedly as they made it to the front entrance.

Japan shook his head. "My band mates are out for the weekend. I'm not playing tonight, but we will get to see Dir En Grey perform!"

"Nice." Greece smirked under the mask. "I hear that Kyo is performing with Finland's Apocalyptica in the US these days."

Japan's eyes seemed to sparkle as they were allowed into the club. "Isn't it amazing? And the band is back in Japan for only a few nights to perform for their diehard fans. That was why I wanted to be sure you were free for the next few days." He led Greece through the thick crowd of fans towards the stage to get a better look at the opening act, but Greece stopped him before he could move too close.

"Wait," he gasped, "something's not right."

Japan looked back at him in horror. "What's wrong?"

Greece's eyes shifted in all directions, the rest of his body not moving an inch. Japan was actually thoroughly surprised and impressed that the Greek man was so focused concentrating so hard, since he could most often be found sleeping or thinking about cats. Whatever was wrong had to be serious.

And then, out of nowhere Greece grabbed Japan and shoved him behind a speaker. Japan yelped in surprise, but Greece quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. "Don't say anything," he commanded. "Dammit, I knew it. This is horrible. I knew I smelled that disgusting cologne in the air..."

Japan managed to move the fingers away from his mouth. "Smelled what?"

Greece seemed to be in pain as he spoke. "That idiot Turk is here."

"TURKEY-SA-!" Greece slapped his hand over Japan's mouth again.

"Quiet!" he shushed. In retrospect, it was quite the silly order to give, seeing as they were in the middle of a club with pounding music and screaming fans, but it made sense at the time. Japan could feel Greece's fingers shaking over his mouth, and stared up at his friend. After a moment of silence between them, he moved the other man's hand again.

"Do you want to go to another club?" he asked. "There are plenty of places open with good bands on a Saturday night."

Greece shook his head. "I'm not giving up a chance to see Dir En Grey."

Japan nodded. "I hoped you would say that. I don't want to miss them either. It's not that I don't mind them going to America-san's place, but I don't want to have to go to America-san's in order to see them."

"Understandable," Greece groaned and slumped against the cold stone wall. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. "So what do we do? I'm not going to be able to enjoy myself if I know that bastard is here, even if he doesn't recognize us."

At this, Japan smirked. "I think there's a way we can have some fun while messing with Turkey-san, and we don't have to miss the performance." He leaned towards Greece's ear and whispered his plan. At first, Greece frowned and wanted to object, but he liked what he heard the more Japan spoke. Once his friend pulled away, he smirked, too.

"I like it."

"Go start your part. I'll do mine when the moment is right."

Greece nodded and crawled out from their hiding place. He stood and, very casually, began walking in Turkey's general direction. Luckily, he was at the bar, so he was easier to approach than if he was in the crowd. Narrowing his eyes and smirking under the surgical mask, Greece finally made it to the empty seat next to his rival and sat down in the sexiest, most seductive way he could. Just from that move alone, Turkey was already caught.

"Evening," he began, winking.

Turkey's cheeks lit up behind his mask. "Good evening," he managed. "...Can I buy you a drink?"

Greece's smirk widened. He doesn't recognize me. I owe Japan big time for this mask. "Sounds wonderful. You've already done right. You just cancelled every other person here." He laughed a bit when Turkey frantically called the bartender over and asked for two drinks. "Sounds great to me."

"So, uh," the Turkish man began, stumbling a bit, "I noticed that you speak English. Are you...not from around here?"

So he can't even tell that I'm not Japanese? Well, the lights in here are a bit dim. I'll give him that much, but, seriously, I owe Japan for this mask. "I'm from...an island far away from here."

"Like Okinawa?"

Greece almost burst out laughing.

At that moment, the bartender set down the two drinks and took the tip from Turkey. Greece lifted his glass and motioned it towards the man in a gesture of thanks. However, he made sure not to move the surgical mask until Turkey was too focused on his own drink to pay attention. The alcohol was a bit weak, but it still left a nice taste in Greece's mouth. Smiling, he placed the surgical mask back in its place and turned back to Turkey, who was staring at his hands.

"I...like the color of your nails." He immediately looked away and blushed a bit, not meeting Greece's amused gaze.

This was way too much fun. This must be how Japan felt when I couldn't recognize him at the club that one time. I can see why he kept it up as long as he did. "Enough with the small talk," Greece suddenly snapped. "I want to make sure you remember me."

"...What?"

"Do you have a video phone?" came Japan's voice. Turkey looked back at him, and his eyes widened in surprise. He obviously didn't recognize the Japanese man, and he certainly was not expecting the man sitting next to him to have brought a friend. Quickly, he jerked his stare to his pocket and ripped out his phone.

"Yeah, it records," he replied, looking a bit unsure. "But...what do you need a recording for?"

Japan smirked. "You'll see.

With that, Greece and Japan stood and made their way towards the restroom. Turkey went to follow them, but Greece stopped him. "Nope," he said playfully, "you stay right there. We'll be right back."

They didn't return for nearly fifteen minutes.

When the video phone returned to Turkey's hands, he felt as though he may as well be holding something holy. He checked the phone's memory and, sure enough, found a new recording. Shaking slightly, he looked up at Japan.

"Hubba hubba," the small man stated bluntly, smirking the whole time. "This is one sexy performance that deserves an Oscar."

Turkey seemed to be doing his best Latvia impression.

"And," Japan continued, leaning close to Turkey's ear, "when you're lonely, just remember that you've always got...us...with you."

Neither Greece nor Japan had ever seen someone run so fast out of a club.

"Huh," Greece murmured, "if nothing else, that idiot's at least good at running. I wonder why he hasn't won all the track competitions at the Olympics."

Japan just smiled and turned towards the stage. "Perfect timing," he announced, crossing his arms. "The opening act just ended."

Greece smirked. "From Mykonos to Samos, Crete to Santorini, I've been waiting for this."

"Did Turkey-san seriously ask you if your home island was Okinawa?"

"Yes, yes, he did."

The two burst out laughing and ran towards the stage.

The next day, Turkey emerged from his hotel in Tokyo, tired and not wanting to do anything. However, he needed breakfast, and he figured that a nice, big cup of coffee would do him well. He trudged off down the busy streets of Shinjuku in search of a nearby coffee shop.

"What a night," he muttered, fishing around his pocket for his phone. When he found it, he brought it towards his face and glared. "You kept me up. That little show you recorded was too much for me. Good God, if I ever see those two again..."

Sighing, Turkey shoved the phone back into his pocket and looked up. Standing across the street from him next to a breakfast restaurant was Japan in a simple, blue kimono and Greece in his regular day clothes. Turkey frowned. "So Japan bought him a plane ticket here after all, huh? Spoiled brat." He went to cross the street to give Greece a piece of his mind when a thought struck him.

That height...those facial features, the ones he could make out anyway...What would Greece look like with orange and blond hair? What if that white t-shirt had blood stains on it? And what if those fingernails were painted?

The two nations grinned ear to ear when they heard a frantic, panic charge in the opposite direction.

"We did it, Hera-chan. Now let's head far, far away from here."

"You promise we won't go back to that club unless Dir En Grey is playing again?"

"...I promise."

Them hustlas keep on talkin'.

They like the way I'm walkin'.

You saying that you want me

So press record, I'll let you film me.

On your video phone, make a cameo.

Tape me on your video phone.

I can handle you.

Watch me on your video phone, on your video, video

If you want me, you can watch me on your video phone.

END