At the sound of an alarm blaring, America instinctually swung a fist down, almost obliterating the clock and the nightstand under it.

He slowly opened his eyes and rolled over to look at the digital clock, 5:30 A.M. glowing in the neon green light. He really hated waking up this early, but he couldn't miss his morning run.

After rolling from the bed, he stood up and drowsily stumbled to the closet, opening it and fumbling around for his athletic wear. When his eyes finally adjusted to the dim light of the room, he realized he accidentally grabbed his Batman costume.

As badass as it would be to run around in a Batman suit, it would be actual hell to run in a heavy black suit in the middle of summer.

After getting his clothes together... for real... he went to the bathroom and got ready, taking a shower, brushing his teeth, rubbing on deodorant, all that good stuff.

Now finished preparing, he double-checked to make sure he had everything. "Compression clothes, check. Actual clothes, check. Phone and earbuds, check. Fitbit, check. Water, check. Wallet?... check. Alright, I think that's everything."

Just as he was about to leave, he remembered something as he spun around and grabbed his jacket off the nightstand. He then took out the key from the sleeve, walked to his study room, and pulled out a book from the bookcase, opening it to reveal that it was actually hollowed out.

After dropping the key inside and putting it back on the shelf, he was finally ready to leave.

He opened his bedroom door and walked to the bedroom perpendicular to him, slowly opening the door and peeking his head inside. Expecting Belarus to still be asleep, he was surprised to find her awake and sitting on the balcony.

"Yo Belarus, I'm gonna head out now, so do you think you can give me your clothes size now?" He asked. Without even turning around, Belarus pointed at the dresser next to him, showing him a piece of paper on top of it.

America reached over and picked it up, seeing that it was a list of sizes for shoes, socks, dresses, and even underwear.

"Alright, well I'm gonna go now," he said as he turned to leave. Belarus looked up at the sun rising over the horizon as she suddenly began speaking.

"You ever think about death? The slow and unending march of time toward the end, the impossibility of escape, taking everyone in its path... Rome died, I'll die, you'll die . . . we may not face the same fate as normal humans, but even us immortals cannot avoid the inevitable. But I'm not scared, I welcome the cold, clammy hands of death to envelop me and remove me from this tortuous, despairing mortal coil... Don't you agree?" She asked as she turned around to look at America, who was shaking as he peeked through the small opening of the door.

"Y-Yup, a-anyway I'll leave you to it," he waved as he shut the door, before hurrying down the stairs.

'Jeez, now I remember why I made her leave,' he thought to himself.

'Cuz she's a crazy bitch dat's either psycho-clingy or psycho-stabby?' The voice in his head responded.

'Don't be so mean, there is a reason she's like that you know,' America scolded as he reached the kitchen.

As he walked to the glass door to the backyard, he bent down and began putting on a pair of running shoes, a big fluffy white cat coming out of nowhere and brushing their head against him.

"Sup Hero, where were you yesterday? You missed meeting Belarus."

"Meow."

"Were you hunting again?"

"Meow."

"Thought so, that's my little tiger!" He praised as he pet Hero's head. The cat pawed at their owner, but America stood and began to walk to the door.

"I'm sorry, but I gotta go. I promise I'll bring back some catnip for you," he said as he pet them goodbye and closed the door behind him.

Now done with the goodbyes, it was finally time to start running. First it's two laps around the property, then it's off to the nearest town.

After a quick warmup, America plugged in the earbuds into his ears before selecting a playlist to listen to.

Then he was off, to run around a property perimeter half a marathon long. So two of those plus running to and from a town that's 10 minutes away by car? America's got his work cutout for him.

By the end of the laps around the property, the cramps were already starting to get to America. 'Just a little more and I'll get my runner's high, just a little more,' he motivated himself.

About 15 minutes into his run toward town, the runner's high hit him, giving him the final push he needed to crank out the rest of the run.

When he finally reached the town, he sat down at the first bench in sight, took out his earbuds, and chugged half his water bottle. He then held up his Fitbit and looked at the time, a little over two hours from when he began.

"That might be a new record," he raggedly sighed in delight. As he slowly regained his breath, a group of pretty women wearing bikinis passed him on the sidewalk.

Some whistled at him while the others just silently admired the young man. One of them called out, "hey handsome, we're going swimming in the lake, you should join us." All the others agreed.

America smiled at them and apologized, "sorry ladies, wish I could but I'm really busy right now."

"Aww, well that's too bad. If you change your mind, you know where to find us," the girl winked as the group walked away.

America waved them goodbye as he drank some more of his water bottle.

"All those lovely women and you're still too hung up on work," a voice called out from behind him.

America instantly recognized the voice and looked behind him to find a small, old lady wearing a purple dress and leaning on a cane. If you squinted you would probably mistake them for the Queen of England.

"Mrs. Johnson, how have you been?" America greeted.

Mrs. Johnson waved him off as she walked over and sat down next to him. "Never mind me, we were talking about you. Why didn't you go with those ladies? You don't look like you're busy."

"I don't know, I got stuff to do, I just finished up a run, then I have to go and buy a bunch of clothes before running back home, then who knows what else," he explained as he rubbed his sweaty neck.

"I remember when I could run like that, to be young and spry," she reminisced, before looking over at America. "You won't be young forever... you need to seize the moment and enjoy being young and free. If you see another group of women or some other opportunity to take, take it."

"I'll think about it," he assured her.

"You better. Now, help me up," she demanded as she tapped him on the knee. America stood up and held a hand out to her, which she took before being lifted to her feet.

She wrapped an arm around his, using him as support as they slowly walked down the street. "So, how's Mr. Johnson doing?" America asked.

"The same old grump as the last time you visited," she answered. America laughed as they stopped at a crosswalk. "I wouldn't have him any other way."

"Me neither," Mrs. Johnson agreed. After the cars stopped going by, the two continued walking.

"You're very sweaty," she commented. America blushed in embarrassment, "sorry."

"Don't worry about it, the clothes store is nice and air conditioned."

When they finally made it to the store, the automatic doors opened, a cold gust of air pouring out and causing a shiver to go up America's back.

Mrs. Johnson let go of America's arm and went off to do her own shopping, leaving America alone to buy his and Belarus' clothes.

After grabbing a cart and some clothes for himself, he moved over to the girls section. There were many dresses similar to the one Belarus was wearing, so he grabbed one of every color. He did the same with the shoes and bows.

On top of the normal dresses, America also got some clothes of his country's style: a couple blouses, a white sundress, some off-shoulder sweaters, and a few normal t-shirts and skinny jeans. Just for fun he threw in some more kinds of shoes and boots... might as well.

For night clothes, he got a bunch of white and dark-colored nightgowns, despite as tempting as it was to make her wear a Hello Kitty onesie with a giant cat head for a hood. . . . ok maybe he grabbed that too.

The only thing to get now was her undergarments, but as he walked to the underwear section he suddenly found himself very flustered, his true 19 year old coming out.

"Alfred what are you doing?" Mrs. Johnson asked as she walked up behind him, noticing the shopping cart full of girls clothes.

"Uhhh... nothing, just buying clothes," he responded as he looked back at her. Mrs. Johnson walked over and snatched the paper from his hands, reading over the feminine handwriting.

"It's not what you think," Alfred tried to explain to the old lady smiling up at him, but was interrupted when she pinched his cheek and tugged on it.

"No wonder you didn't go with those women, and here I was trying to hook you up with them. Your girlfriend wouldn't be too happy with that, now would she?"

America grabbed her hand and slowly pulled it away from his face. "That's not it. She's just a girl from work."

The old lady laughed as she hobbled past him and started grabbing bras and underwear. "I've been around for a long time young man, and I've never seen anyone buy this much for a mere coworker."

"Look, I can't really get into it, but she's dealing with some family issues right now, and she left before she could bring spare clothes."

"Aww... well at least you're a gentleman," she complimented as she put the armful of undergarments in the shopping cart.

Now that they were done with their shopping, they brought all of the clothes to the cash register. Poor girl had to spend the next ten minutes scanning tags. At least the store would be getting paid a small fortune for all of it.

As they left the store, with Alfred carrying about twenty shopping bags, the two continued down the street.

"I'm sorry dear is that too heavy?" Mrs. Johnson asked, worried the boy's arms were going to fall off.

"I'm good, don't worry about me," he reassured, pretending to struggle with the weight. "I guess I just splurged a little bit."

'I blame you LA,' he thought to himself.

After a few minutes, the pair came up to a quaint blue house, an old man sleeping in a rocking chair on the porch. The snoring man was slumped into his chest, his face partially hidden by the big mound of his belly.

"Mr. Johnson, how are you?" Alfred called out. Mr. Johnson jolted awake and looked at the source of the noise in confusion, before his face brightened up in recognition.

"Alfred, it's been a long time!" He greeted as he got up from the chair and descended the stairs, reaching out and firmly shaking Alfred's hand.

"He asked you a question Fred," his wife reminded him as she took her two bags of clothes from Alfred.

"Oh, yes... things have been good, work has been tough but what're gonna do?" He said as he put his thumbs under his suspenders.

"Aren't you supposed to be in retirement old man?" Alfred jabbed. Mr. Johnson let out a jolly laugh, his big belly bouncing up and down.

"Probably, but I've never been one to sit back and do nothing," he said before leaning close to Alfred and whispering, "between you and me, I'm just trying to do as much as I can before I end up with a bum leg like her."

Mrs. Johnson raised her cane and bonked him on the head with it. "Just can it you old coot, we both saw you snoring in that chair of yours."

Alfred couldn't help but laugh at the two bickering elders, to him they were the perfect old married couple.

As they continued arguing, Alfred decided it was probably his time to leave, but was stopped by Mr. Johnson. "Wait, don't you want to come inside and get something to drink? You look like you've run a marathon."

Alfred was going to decline, but Mrs. Johnson beat him to it. "He can't do that right now, he's got a girlfriend at home to get back to."

Mr. Johnson raised his eyebrow as he stroked his long white beard. "Ah, is that so? So who's the lucky lady?"

Alfred looked away to hide his blushing. "There is no lucky lady, it's just a girl that needed my help."

Mrs. Johnson reached up and ruffled Alfred's golden hair. "We know hon, we're just teasing you a little."

Alfred huffed in embarrassment but smiled anyway, he couldn't be mad at such a sweet old lady. "Right, well I'm gonna get going now, have to get back to the lady," he joked as he waved goodbye and turned around to leave.

The Johnson's waved back at him, as Mr. Johnson yelled out, "if it does work out between you two, come visit us so we can meet her."

Alfred laughed and shook his head as he began walking. "Yeah, yeah, see you around."

The three said their final goodbyes as they went their separate ways, allowing America to get back to the rest his shopping.

(Earlier)

Belarus waited a few minutes until she felt the coast was clear, before standing up and leaving the balcony.

As she left the bedroom, she almost bumped into Tony who was standing right outside the door.

"Do you have the address?!" He asked her impatiently, holding out the copied key to her.

Belarus searched through her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Da, here you go."

After making the trade, Tony quickly ran off as Belarus made her way downstairs. By the time she reached the storage room, a ufo could be seen speeding past from the window.

'I still don't get what he sees in him,' she thought as she opened the storage room door.

Lithuania stood in front of the kitchen sink washing dishes, Ukraine, Russia, and the Baltics having just finished up their lunch.

It was surreal for Belarus not to be here, she was always here if Russia was, but two days have gone by and there's been nothing about her whereabouts. Lithuania asked Russia about it, but Russia just gave him a sad expression and shook his head, before speeding off and locking himself in his room.

Ukraine wouldn't answer either, saying it wasn't her place to talk about it, though it was obvious whatever it was was troubling her. She was the oldest after all, so some mysterious problem between the younger siblings weighed heavily on her mind.

Lithuania was starting to feel under the weather as well, despite Belarus' cruel behavior toward him, the house felt empty without her. In short, the absence was starting to get to everyone.

Lithuania was snapped out of his thoughts when something tapped against a nearby window pane. He looked up at the window for a few seconds, but looked back down when nothing happened, only for another tap to come a second later.

He looked back up at the window and stared at it, watching as a small pebble flew up and smacked against it.

Perhaps too optimistic, Lithuania assumed it was most likely the missing slavic girl everyone's been worried about.

His joy turned to confusion when he ran outside, only to see no one there. Before he could even react, a green light shined down on him and began lifting him off the ground.

Within a couple seconds, Lithuania had been fully pulled into the ufo, before it blasted off into orbit in the blink of an eye.

The whole time, a small Latvian stood in their bedroom window, shaking in terror at watching their friend get abducted. He then ran off screaming, "R-Russia Russia, L-Lithuania's been k-k-kidnapped by aliens!"

Belarus grabbed the chest from the corner and flipped it over, before using the copy key to unlock the bottom and take the book back out.

She quickly flipped back to the page she left off on and began reading:

1627 A.D.

Mom's starting to look worse, her skin is grayish and she keeps picking at her food. She also keeps falling asleep during our hunting trips. I hope she isn't getting sick like that one time, that was really scary.

1630 A.D.

A lot more people landed on me and Mom's land. These guys were given land by Artie's boss, and are setting up something called the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Something's different about these people though, before I could only sense the people there, but now I can actually feel them, just like the me and Mom's people.

1636 A.D.

There are two more colonies now, Connecticut and Rhode Island. I guess a lot of people in Massachusetts didn't like how their leaders were running things. I would say it's good that their population is growing, but as they get bigger Mom just keeps getting weaker. She can't even be angry at Artie's people anymore, saying she's "too tired to care." Me and Kanata don't know what to do, if only Artie or Francis were here.

1640 A.D.

Mom... disappeared? Me and Kanata are really confused. She had gotten really sick a couple weeks ago, so she has been laying in a bed for a while. Well today the village chief called us in for some reason, and Mom was crying saying it was our responsibility to look after her people, and to never trust the Europeans. Then she faded away? Is that some kind of magic I don't know about? I guess me and Kanata can watch after our people while she's gone doing magic stuff or whatever.

- Alfred Kirkland

Belarus covered her mouth with a hand, completely speechless. Italy has always talked about how painful it was watching Rome fade away, but she couldn't imagine not even knowing what that meant, not knowing your parent was gone.

She flipped to the next page and continued reading:

1642 A.D.

I guess Artie's not here because there's a civil war in his country. I wish he were here. Maybe he could tell me what happened to Mom, and use his magic to bring her back. Until then I just have to wait... hopefully Artie will come back ok.

1646 A.D.

I met Davie for a third time, his skin's all wrinkly and now he has a family. I tried to apologize to him for not getting the flowers yet, but he asked if I was lost and if my family was around. I guess it has been a long time, but there's no way he forgot about me, right? I know Artie's still dealing with a war, but I would like it if he could hurry up a little and bring me the flowers.

1651 A.D.

Artie sent me a letter saying he's coming back soon! His war is finally over so now he's on a ship that will arrive in a couple months. I have so much to tell him, I'll give Davie the flowers, have Artie bring Mom back, and show him my new colonies. I now have Virginia, Massachusetts, New Amsterdam, Maryland, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Hampshire, and Delaware. New Amsterdam and Delaware are owned by this tall, scary guy with a scar on his forehead and spiky hair. In Delaware, an even taller and scarier man is trying to claim the area. I think I remember him from a long time ago.

1653 A.D.

Artie set up another colony, this one's called North Carolina. My people are slowly growing larger and expanding, but that's causing me and Mom's people to have to move. If only she was here, she'd know what to do. I asked Artie if he could find her and bring her back, but he just said, "good riddance, she was a stupid savage anyway." Why do Artie and Mom hate each other so much?

Also what does riddance mean?

1656 A.D.

These guys calling themselves "Quakers" settled somewhere in the Middle Colonies. A lot of people have been coming here from England recently. With the last war and all these problems with some church, England seems like an increasingly worse place live.

1660 A.D.

The natives and colonists keep getting into fights. I don't want them to fight, I can feel the deaths on both sides, and it hurts. Can't everyone just get along?

1664 A.D.

Artie took New Amsterdam from the Dutch after a big fight and renamed it New York. The scary man with the scar was really upset. It seems like ever since Mom disappeared, people have been fighting all over my land.

1665 A.D.

Artie's leaving, again! He's been back for a little over a decade, and now he already has to leave. Something about a plague in London? Everyone has plagues, Mom always complained about how so many natives suffered from them, and how it's the European's fault. I guess it's true, seems like all of Europe is full of plagues... why are they so dirty?

He didn't even bring the flowers the last time he visited, is it seriously that hard to remember flowers?

- Alfred Kirkland

As Belarus turned the next page, a small piece of paper fell out of it and landed in her lap. She set the book down and pick up the paper, reading it's contents.

Rather than words, the paper was covered in sheet music. The title of the piece was called,

"Ephemeral Flowers"

Intrigued with what it could mean, she picked the book back up and read the page it came from:

1666 A.D.

Artie came back already! And he brought the flowers!!!

I ran as fast as I could to Davie's house and searched for him, finding him in his backyard. For some reason he's shorter again, but who cares, I finally brought him his flowers! He took the flowers and carried them to a large wooden box, before throwing them in with a bunch of others (I guess he found them before me). In the box was a wrinkly man sleeping, surrounded by the flowers. I picked up one of the flowers and handed it to Davie, but he grabbed it and threw it back in the box. Is this what he wanted the flowers for?

1666 A.D.

I learned what was wrong with Davie, that boy wasn't Davie. The guy in the box, or coffin as Artie called it, was the real Davie. I guess people age, as in getting older and eventually... dying. So the reason Davie couldn't remember me and was getting all tall and wrinkly was because he was getting older. That also means he died before I could give him the flowers!

I broke our promise, I promised him!!

Is this what happened to Mom?! Is she dead? I couldn't even say goodbye to her!

It's not fair! Why do people have to die?! Why am I different? If I have to watch everyone I know and love die then I wish I would die as well. I just want to be normal!

- Alfred Kirkland

Belarus put the paper back in the page and closed the book, that's as much as she could handle for today. That Davie story was already starting to bring up some bad memories. She, along with every other nation had at one point realized what mortality was, and it was almost never pleasant.

After completing the routine of putting away the book and chest, she left the storage room and walked back to the stairs just as America walked in, with about 10 bags hanging from each arm.

"Yo, dudette, I got your clothes!" He yelled as he raised the bags above his head. Belarus winced at the volume before turning around and walking up the stairs.

America lowered the bags from his head and followed her to her room. When both entered, he dropped the bags with a thud and sat down next to them.

Belarus sat down on her bed and watched him as he sorted through the bags, separating her stuff from his. He then grabbed his bags and stood back up. "So there's all your stuff, just let me know if there's anything that doesn't fit, or you don't like."

He then walked out of the room, leaving her to look through everything. The amount of clothes was insane, it might even be more than what she had back at home.

It was so much in fact, that halfway through she got bored and dumped it all in her dresser. The final bag contained her undergarments and brand new phone, which was pretty much the only thing she was excited to get.

She took out the phone from its box and inspected it... it was a very nice phone. She then took out the charger as well and plugged the phone into the outlet to set up later.

While that was charging, Belarus looked at all the underwear and bras. Out of all the clothes, these were the ones she was most worried about not being the right size.

To her relief they appeared to be the correct size, but that relief turned to horror when she pulled out a suggestive pair of undergarments. A pair of lingerie to be specific.

This pair also had the luxury of being as raunchy as possible, purple and black lace purposely avoiding all of the places it should cover, in what she could only assume was for "easy access."

Instantly she stood up and stormed out of the room, ready to butcher the fat pig. As she marched down the stairs and searched around the house, she eventually found him back in his normal clothes as he began walking outside with a guitar strapped to his back.

She quickly caught up to him and slapped him on the back of the head, to which America turned around and smiled at her, completely unfazed from being hit.

"Yeah, dudette?" He asked. Without a word Belarus held up the clothing in his face, waiting for him to react.

America just raised an eyebrow at it, confused why she was shoving it in his face. "Explain," she demanded suddenly.

America got even more confused. "Explain what?" Belarus scowled at him as she moved the clothing a little bit closer. "Explain what the hell this is."

"Umm. . . underwear and a bra?" He shrugged.

"Does this look like a underwear to you?" She asked, red in the face with irritation.

"Yes?" He answered honestly. He really can be clueless sometimes, even if the other nations like to exaggerate that flaw.

Belarus sweatdropped and moved the clothes away from America's face. "It's lingerie you asshat!"

"Oh. . . kinky," he boldly stated.

America paled as Belarus instantly grabbed a knife and held it above her head, a dark purple aura seeping out of her as her bangs cast a shadow over her eyes. Those said eyes were now tiny purple dots, vibrating with rage as she pierced him with her glare.

The overwhelming terror of the small Belarusian shattered all of America's confidence, turning him into a quivering mess desperately looking for a way to escape this terrible situation.

"What did you say?" She asked in a menacing tone, making America shudder and begin to back up, only to trip over himself and have the guitar on his back press against a pillar. He was completely pinned.

"I-I-I was just joking around, y'know? Haha, it's funny," America shakily smiled to her, internally cringing with how fake that sounded.

Belarus must have realized that as well, because she didn't seem any happier, in fact she actually looked even more pissed.

"Don't fuck with me! Now, tell me exactly why you bought me this," she demanded as she raised the knife a little more.

"I don't— wait, what? I didn't buy you that," he answered. Belarus narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

"Then how do you explain why I found it in one of my shopping bags?" She questioned.

"I don't know, it was probably. . . Shit. God dammit Mrs. Johnson," he trailed off. Belarus raised an eyebrow as he mumbled to himself. "What are you saying?"

America stopped talking and looked up at Belarus. "Huh? Oh, I just realized why you have lingerie," he laughed as he rubbed his head.

"Then hurry up and tell me, my arm's getting tired and your face looks like the perfect place to keep my knife."

"Ok, so when I was buying clothes... I might've gotten too embarrassed to go in the women's underwear section and needed an old lady to do it for me. She must've not realized she grabbed lingerie on accident."

Belarus remained unmoving, continuing to give America a death glare. As the silence stretched on, America began to physically feel sick from the tension.

After about a minute, the aura around Belarus dissipated and her normal scowl returned as she lowered her knife. America never thought he would be so glad to see that cold expression.

Belarus put the knife back on her garter and turned around to the door.

"Fine. I'll leave the lingerie in your room, then you can return it to the store. Oh, and if I figure out you lied to me," she slightly turned around and peered at him emotionlessly. "I'll wring your neck with the lingerie, then hang you from a tree."

'Here's hopin',' the voice joked.

'Not now,' America demanded as he awkwardly smiled at Belarus. He gave her a shaky thumbs up as she rolled her eyes and walked inside. Only after making sure she left did America finally stand up.

'Like I said, she's fuckin' mental,' the voice said to America. America shook his head as he began his walk through his backyard.

"No she isn't, it's family problems, that's it."

'Are ya serious?! Do ya not remember all the creepy shit she did da last time she was here? Da talkin' to herself sayin' "it's alright" and "you have to start moving on"? Breakin' da damn maid's fingers, tryin' ta rape her own brother? I mean c'mon, she literally just threatened ta hang ya with underwear.

She's a psychotic, sadistic, scary-ass bitch and I won't be surprised in the slightest if ya wake up as an amputee.'

America stepped into the woods and began walking, making a beeline for... somewhere.

"Ok, maybe she's a little crazy, but it's nothing I can't handle."

'"Nothin' I can't handle?'" Not a minute ago you were on ya ass shakin' like a leaf. Even in da unlikely scenario where ya manage ta become friends, she'll go all big brother crazy again and stalk ya to da ends of da Earth. For both of our sake, ya should get rid of her as quickly as possible.'

"No. Out of all the nations, she came to me for help. I don't care if she wants to kill or stalk me, I'm helping her and that's final."

'Yer ridiculous sense of heroics are gonna get ya killed for real one of these days, y'know that, right?'

"Yeah, well until then I'll do just fine trying to save the world. . . even if most hate me for it."

'Just make sure to keep yer head on yer shoulders, and not snapped sideways on a pair of pantyhose hung from a tree.'

America paused and looked up at the large oak next to him, unknowingly beginning to massage his throat.

"Yeah."

After about an hour walk through the dense woods, America finally exited into a large clearing.

It was nothing but miles of blue flowers. Not a single speck of green could be seen, except for the woods behind him, and a single tree in the center of the clearing. Behind the tree was a small wooden house, obviously having been renovated countless times.

America closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, taking in the summer warmth and fragrance of flowers and pollen. A beaming grin graced his lips as he opened his eyes and began strolling toward the tree.

As he neared the tree, he took off the guitar strapped to his back and carried it in his hands, double-checking that he tuned it correctly.

America stopped at the base of the tree and looked down from the guitar, his attention now focused on a small tombstone covered with multiple bouquets of the blue flowers.

America bent forward and leaned his guitar against the tree, before taking a seat right next to the grave. After some rearranging of the bouquets, America pulled his legs to his chest and leaned his head on his knees.

"Hey Davie, it's been a couple months, huh?"

A couple minutes went by in silence, America taking the time to observe the beautiful nature around him. Above him flew a bald eagle, tailed by a ferocious chickadee.

He always found little man syndrome intriguing, maybe that's why England was so pissed all the time. That, or he genuinely thought America was a "stupid git," as he so lovingly referred to him as constantly.

". . . Sorry I took so long to get back home, just having to deal with work and all that, it overwhelms you sometimes... especially with my newest boss.

I shouldn't say that, he's not the worst... he could be an Andrew Jackson... but god dammit he really likes to test my patience. I guess that can be seen through all the stuff going on right now, with the protests and everything... not that I'm against them. They're for a great cause, and I'm always one for protests, but jeez... he's really pulling us through the damn wringer with his constant opposition to them.

. . . You don't want to hear me rant about this, you've heard it a million times already.

On a different note, Belarus came back. I know, who would've thought? 28 and a 1/2 years since we've last hung out, or even talked really. What's weirder is she's back over almost the same exact terms, leaving Russia. . . though of course this time it's because he's banging China.

Hahaha-ha——ha. . . . I shouldn't be laughing about this, it really messed her up. She's acting cool about it now, but I can tell she's doing her best to hide it... I've done the same myself.

Hopefully this time it can be different. She's already past secluding herself in her room, and is just starting her deranged hatred stage... it's only a matter of time before she becomes clingy.

Maybe this time I can do things right and reach a middle ground, and properly become friends. Then she might actually call me by my name. I don't know why she absolutely refuses to do so, even Japan calls me by my name, and we were archenemies less than 80 years ago. Oh well, just a matter of time I guess."

America weaved his fingers together and leaned against the tree on his joined hands. He closed his eyes again and slumped down to the ground, really wanting to take a nap out here on this beautiful day, but he had something he had to do first.

He opened his eyes again and pushed himself back up to a sitting position, before grabbing the guitar and holding it in position. After some quick practice, he was finally ready to play.

"Ok Davie, I've been keeping you waiting long enough. So do what you do best and lay back and enjoy the music."

His big smile instantly dropped into something much weaker and wobbly as he strummed the first note.

"Happiness and joy...~

Sorrow and sadness...~

Y-You and I...~

We s-shared them together...~

Shared for a time...~

But suddenly f-faltered...~

F-Flowers of a d-dream...~

As America quietly sang to his old friend, a pair of deep violet orbs secretly observed him from the woods. They were too far away to hear what America was singing, but the tears streaming down his face as the ghost of an old man patiently listened, gave them all the information they needed.

America really couldn't see magical creatures... but more importantly, any talk about mortality and death was strictly off limits.