HETALIA IS A MANGA BY HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA

Some chapters include at the beginning the music that inspired them

My therapist says talking about what happened will help me. I would love to bury the whole matter in my mind as deep as possible, like, tie it to a rock and throw it in a well. But I guess he is right. Philippe and his family say so too, so I guess I should listen to them. They might have realized I am not alright. If so many people say so, it must be true. And who am I kidding: if there's something we nations have is memory. A darned good memory. And something like that can't be forgotten as many centuries pass.

I have to say, too, that it all affected me, but not as directly as it did to some others. I do know that Italy, Veneciano I mean, has been through therapy. The hardcore one, the one which requires you to sit in a divan and cry. I believe England also thought of going, but he's so stubborn he must have surely rejected it, and if he accepted he's telling no one. For once, America hasn't gossiped his private matters.

And thinking it all started with a video...

We all got it on our cell phones. We still don't know how they got our numbers. I guess intelligence does know, but they speak such a complicated jargon that I have no idea. As I was saying, we all got that video, okay?

I don't remember very well what it said. I erased it as soon as I watched it. I thought it was a big loss of time. A crazy lady airing her political deliriums on the Internet. Nowadays people have phones and can share their idiocies with the whole world. We believed it was that. It didn't even make it to the order of the day. We didn't think it was so important. We only talked about it in the extra-official groups. Holland told me he just left it to his secret services.

Even today it makes me shiver to think that if we had paid attention to what they were telling us maybe the little guys wouldn't have suffered the way they did, nobody would have died and it would have been like any other Wednesday.

We gathered together in one of those boring summits we are forced to attend. A European one. Russian participated. We, the nations, get public funds, and we have to earn it. We have to negotiate between us, get deals which benefit the citizens who at the end of the day are the ones who pay the phones we use, the suits we wear and the parties we attend. They were recording us with cameras. Some like France love to be recorded. I am partially thankful of my modest position because nobody is there to watch if I yawn, scratch my nose or fart if I want.

As in many other occasions, we had come to a deadlock. Germany wanted to reduce the polluting gas by next year. Russia didn't want to sacrifice the economic prosperity or the well being of his citizens. My house is very cold, I remember he said. I know it. You know it. France knows it too...He had to make that nasty remark. It's always the same: when we get to those matters we just can't reach an agreement, nobody wants to give in. We ended up asking for a break.

I was by Switzerland during the meeting. Behind him was Liechtenstein. This was supposed to be a reunion between the big guys, so small countries such as her had no place there. But Switzerland wanted her to learn. He is convinced that she will be a great nation one day, and she had to prepare herself. I don't doubt it. The girl has makings of an empire. We all had the chance to see it.

As I was saying, Switzerland has always pampered that girl in his own way. She's his little sister after all. And she's a really cute girl. I saw her from the corner of my eye where she didn't disturb, quiet, taking notes even. Unlike Sealand, who we had to kick out because he was always interrupting and running around. Poor Sealand. It's so hard to think about these things! But I'll go on. It will be good to me to let it all out.

Anyway, Liechtenstein wanted to go to the toilet during the pause. She warned Switzerland and left. None of us gave it any importance. She went with her bodyguards. I stayed, talking to Switzerland.

"Do you have change for the coffee machine?" I remember I asked him.

Now I think about it and wish those were the problems of the morning. Having change for the machine.

He said yes. He went back to his place to look for his purse. Poland approached to tell me about a disgusting trend he had seen on the Internet. I don't know whose idea it was to give that guy a smartphone: he only uses it to look for stupid things.

Switzerland was on his way back when the shots were heard.

I recall we didn't hear the first ones. Someone raised a hand to make the person in front of them quiet and listen. We shut up to hear the last three shots. They came from the corridor.

Our bodyguards busted in. Each of them grabbed their corresponding nation.

We didn't know what was happening but followed them anyway. A voice stood up in the crowd. Switzerland's.

"And Liechtenstein?! Where is Liechtenstein?"

"You have to get out of here now!" his bodyguards told him.

But it was well known that Switzerland didn't like bodyguards. He didn't need them. So he got rid of his and ran.

The restrooms were near the room. When we got out, we saw what the matter was.

There was blood on the floor, next to the ladies' room. Liechtenstein's bodyguards were lying on the floor. One, on his stomach, didn't move. The other moved his head a little; I heard later that he didn't make it through the night.

A human barrier prevented Switzerland to approach more. He kept screaming. Where is my sister, where is my sister.

I couldn't see anything else, Klaas and Paul dragged me to the car and drove away from there. In a blink I was at home, and they turned it into a bunker. Nobody could tell me what had happened because no one knew more than what was evident.

That night we got an announcement. Liechtenstein had been kidnapped. Some masked people had broken in and stole her shooting like crazy.

Shit, and that was only the beginning...