Thanks to MRoshka, Miss Akiyata, Gort and an anon for reviewing.

After posting the last chapter, I found something interesting about the human name I gave South Africa, Anika. My original plan was to call her 'Annelise', then I learned that it was a popular name for femAustria. To avoid confusion, I changed it to Anika, which is also a popular South African name (I know, like, six, so…). Then I did some research about the name, and I found that the Dutch origin mainly had it as a diminutive form of 'Anna', which is a nickname they gave my classmate named Annelise. Strange how things work.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 3: One-Sided Conversations

Both sides are aware of the game.

Black is prepared to play.

White needs encouragement.

But soon, they both shall play.

…

While Matthew was gone, Matt decided to get something to eat as well. As he made his way to the kitchen, for no one trusted anyone else with food preparations, he had to stop.

Coming from the other end of the hallway were three Nations he didn't need to run into: India, Brazil, and South Africa.

India had long black hair tied back in a braid. His eyes were the colour of hazel. He wore a traditional sherwani in shades of blue and green. He always wore a tired expression, and he was rarely seen without one of the two that currently accompanied him.

Brazil had black hair as well. His hair was shoulder-length and tied back in a ponytail. His eyes were a dark brown. He wore a formal black suit, his expression sour, as usual. He was neither tanned nor pale, but somewhere in between.

South Africa seemed to radiate a cold aura wherever she goes. Her brown eyes glare at the world, and with her hair that was somewhere between black and brown, served to make her skin seem even paler. She wore a sombre black dress.

The three of them could always get away with what they wore.

Seeing them approaching, Matt did the smartest thing.

He stood aside and let them pass.

South Africa glanced at him, eyebrow arched, but said nothing. They passed without incident.

Canada sighed in relief. Everyone knew that tensions between North and South were high, and that is what caused the Cold War. He had learned from Matthew that their histories weren't the same. Matthew's world also had a Cold War, but it was between East and West. And Matthew's had ended. Matt's was still ongoing.

As it was, the three Nations that had just passed him happened to be the three leaders of the Southern Bloc. And he did not want to start a fight with them. Especially South Africa.

He had seen their alternates through the mirror a few times, usually when Matthew had a meeting. South Africa was one of the Nations that recognised Matthew as Canada. Matthew also informed him that her constitution was based on his, and that one of her former bosses had been made an honorary Canadian citizen.

And then there's the fact that the three of them were sneaky fighters. They didn't look like it, but Matt had, unfortunately, learned the hard way that the three of them were not to be fought alone. There was no way he would pick a fight with them, intentional or otherwise, when the three of them were together. That was asking for trouble.

Sighing in relief, Matt continued to make his way to the kitchen, unaware of what awaited him there.

…

Romania returned to his room with a sigh. He seriously had to think of a reason why Poland was seeing the strange reflection. He also didn't know how dangerous said reflection would be. And he didn't know whether or not they would be able to pass through the mirror.

Once he entered the room, he froze.

It wasn't his usual reflection staring back at him. It was a scene straight from a horror movie.

It appeared to be a rather large kitchen. And, on one of the counters, a human corpse was lying. His torso was slashed open, and Romania could see inside of his body. But it wasn't the corpse that terrified him.

It was the trio around the corpse.

He noticed, with a hint of fear, that the three looked like England, Norway, and himself. And all three of them were bloody.

England seemed to be grinding up the organs that had been removed from the human's body. Norway was eating something that Vlad realised, with disgust, was skin. And his own reflection was drinking some sort of red liquid that Romania instinctively knew was blood.

The door to the kitchen opened, and Vlad noticed someone enter that looked vaguely familiar. Once the figure saw what the three already there were doing, he instantly turned and left. The other Romania stared after him.

"Wasn't that Canada?" he asked.

The other England looked back at the door.

"I think so," he said. "Too bad. I wanted to offer him a cupcake later. He admitted once that he would rather eat the poisoned ones than these. Although, both tend to make him sick."

Vlad sighed, glad to know that not all of the other Nations were like that. Then he realised what the other England said, and he felt nauseous.

The other Norway giggled.

"Some Nations can't handle it," he said. "Don't feel bad, Oliver. I can't get Icy to eat this either."

"Maybe we should call one of the Italies?" the other Romania suggested. "They make the best bloody pasta sauce."

That was it. Vlad ran to the en-suite bathroom and proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach. He might have seen a lot during the reign of Vlad the Impaler, but that was centuries ago. And what scared him was the fact that it was him that partook in it this time.

He was also terrified to think that the two Italians were also cannibals. It disgusted him. Veneziano couldn't harm a fly, and Romano, in spite of his tough guy façade, was also pretty much harmless. He shuddered to think that the two of them would do something like that.

He ignored the mirror and made his way to Moldova's room. He needed the company of someone that would help him forget what he had just seen.

…

Matt made his way back to his room, appetite completely lost. He was in no way a cannibal, and he didn't want to see that in the first place.

And now he knew not to accept any cupcakes from England later.

He had a rather strong immunity to poisons. But he did not enjoy eating someone else.

…

Moldova perked his head when he heard the door knock. He opened the door and beamed in happiness when he saw that it was his older brother.

"Big brother!" he exclaimed, hugging the other around the waist. "I'm so glad to see you."

Romania chuckled.

"I told you that I would see you later," Romania said.

The younger Nation let him in before closing the door. When he turned back towards his brother, he saw that the other was staring at where the mirror should be.

"Moldova, why'd you cover the mirror?"

Moldova sighed.

"I don't like looking at myself," he said. "At least, not when there's a world meeting and all. It's just… All the other countries are wearing fancy clothes and I'm…"

Moldova sniffed.

Romania knelt down and wrapped his arms around his younger brother. The Moldovan leaned into the embrace.

"It's alright," Romania sighed. "We've all had our ups and downs. You're just going through a 'down'. Just you wait. One day, you will experience an 'up'."

Moldova giggled. He always adored his older brother. He always knew how to cheer him up.

…

Moldova frowned.

He didn't know why, but the moment he looked into the mirror, he started to see a different reflection. It looked almost like him, but it wasn't. And it was almost as though he was watching someone else's life from the shadows.

He was young, he knew. But he was a rich country. He wore a fine suit of the deepest purple, and his blond hair was slicked back. He had deep green eyes, and pale skin. It was the only thing he had in common with his brother. And still he strived to get more sun.

Through the reflection, he saw an interesting interaction. The other boy greeted his older brother, and they looked… happy to see each other. If his guess was correct, and he was seeing an alternate version of himself… then the 'big brother' the other was talking about was Romania. The accent seemed to confirm it.

He and his brother hated each other. To see the two of them act like that… it disgusted him. And yet, when he saw the other Romania's caring side… he paused. He had never heard the Romanian say something so soothingly. He had never seen red eyes look towards him with such compassion. It almost melted the ice in his heart.

Almost.

But there was something else that drew the blonde's attention. The other boy wore a coat that was way too large for him. It couldn't serve as a fashion statement. He couldn't figure it out. Why did the other wear that?

And then, the words of comfort themselves. From the sounds of it, the other was having a rough time. So why was the other Romania comforting him? If it had been his Romania, then he would have been left in the dust. He would have been dropped right then and there. And any other Nation would revel in his misfortune. Would do all they could to worsen his situation.

He felt disgusted by the comfort, but another part of him realised something else.

He wanted something like that as well.

He wanted the love.

…

Matthew entered the room, pleased that the hotel's coffee shop had pancakes. He had to be sneaky, soaking them in his own bottle of maple syrup, instead of the café's. It was nothing personal. He just knew that Americans had no idea how to make maple syrup.

He immediately saw Matt, and a soft smile graced his lips. Matt tried to mirror it, but he failed terribly. It turned more into a grimace, and Matthew's smile disappeared as well. He immediately noticed that Matt seemed a little green.

"What's wrong?" Matthew asked.

Matt sighed.

"I walked in on England, Romania and Norway making cupcakes," Matt explained.

Matthew paled. He knew exactly what that meant.

"Matthew," Matt said. "I think… I'm going back home. I don't need to sleep anyway. And it's a long drive from Russia to Canada."

Matthew nodded his head. He completely understood.

"Then I guess… see you tomorrow, eh?"

Matt smiled.

"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Neither mentioned that they were most likely going to be keeping watch on each other throughout the night.

…

Poland returned to his room, and he immediately came face to face with his alternate reflection. The other was smirking, drinking a bottle of vodka. Feliks tried to ignore the black-haired version of him.

"Now, don't be like that."

Feliks jumped. The voice sounded exactly like his, but it was… cold. Feliks turned to face the reflection, and saw that the reflection looked expectantly at him now.

Feliks paled, and the other's smirk widened.

"Looks like one theory is confirmed," the other one said. "It would seem we can at least speak to each other. Good to know."

"Like, who are you?" Feliks demanded.

The other scowled, before his smirk reappeared.

"My name is Felic Łukasiewicz," the other said. "I am known as Poland."

"Feliks Łukasiewicz," Feliks said. "Poland."

"I figured you'd be," Felic said. "Asides from a few… minor differences, we look alike. Although, I'm kind of glad our names aren't exactly the same. It would be way too confusing. Had a nice meeting with the magic trio?"

Feliks took a step back.

"How'd you know?" Feliks asked.

"I saw it," Felic said. "Looks like we can follow each other through the mirror. And what's that I heard about South Africa?"

"She's just a former colony of England," Feliks said. "Not one of the friendliest towards him. Plus she's friends with Russia. I don't think she's someone I'd like to make friends with."

Felic frowned.

"Hold on a moment," he said. "Friends with Russia? She's south, he's north. So how can they be friends with the Cold War and all?"

Feliks cocked his head in confusion.

"The Cold War is over," Feliks said. "And why would there be a problem between north and south? Like, the Cold War was between east and west."

Felic frowned.

"Interesting," Felic said. "Tell me, were you and Lithuania ever a Commonwealth?"

"Tak."

"Alright then, what about the Two Hundred Year War?"

Feliks scrunched his face in confusion.

"What? Nie. I've never even heard of it. There was a Hundred Year War, but that was between France and England."

Felic scoffed.

"France? At war? He's too indifferent to participate in a war. But he's still one scary Nation."

It was Feliks's turn to scoff.

"France? Scary? Please. That's, like, totally out there. The Nation of love, scary?"

Felic arched an eyebrow.

"In my world, France is the Nation of hate. I mean, he raised the two Italies, for crying out loud!"

"Actually, North Italy was raised by Austria, and South Italy was raised by Spain. I remember that from when I was partitioned. Like, Italy was my best friend when we both lived in Austria's house."

Felic laughed.

"You were partitioned? That is completely weak! Weak and pathetic!"

That stung. Feliks had always prided himself in rising from the partitions. By all rights, he shouldn't even be there anymore. But he rose from the ashes. He became the Resurrecting Phoenix. The partitions were a particularly painful time for him, and he still had nightmares from the second partition. To be called weak and pathetic…

"Like, shut up!" Feliks shouted. "You don't know anything!"

His eyes stung. The partitions were old wounds that he didn't like having agitated. They were deep wounds. Wounds that he sometimes still carried.

There was a knock on the door, making him jump. Cautiously, he made his way to the door, opening it…

…Only to look into concerned blue-green eyes.

"Are you okay?" Toris asked. "You're crying."

Feliks wiped away the few tears that managed to escape.

"Like, I'm totally fine," Poland said. "Like, what do you want, Liet?"

Lithuania smiled.

"I figured, since we're all going home tomorrow, that we could spend some time together," Lithuania said. "Maybe play a little game of chess? Or something else."

Poland smiled.

"I'd like that," he said.

…

Felic smirked.

It would seem that he had already identified a weakness of his counterpart. Too bad he couldn't find out more about his new plaything's history the way he usually would. But, for the first time, the game seemed interesting. He had no prior information on his target, and he loved it. It made it even more fun to extract the information out of his counterpart, and then use it against him.

And it seemed as though it would be easy to get the information. From the short conversation, he gathered that Feliks let things slip too easily, while Felic carefully selected his words. And, seeing as their histories weren't synchronised, it was more important to get information out of the blonde.

Keeping in mind that there were others playing the game as well, he had to get in touch with them, so they could exchange knowledge. It was important for them to know as much about the other world as possible.

He watched his counterpart and Lithuania's counterpart through the mirror, all the while planning strategies, battle plans, moves and countermoves.

And while he watched, he came to a realisation that gave him a slight headache.

His counterpart was horrible at chess.

…

Arthur sighed, taking out his phone.

He had to do it. He had no other choice. And so, he dialled a familiar number. A number that he hated to call, and that hated being called by him.

"What do you want?!" the voice on the other end snarled.

"Hello to you too, Alistair," England said, his voice monotone. "Listen, I need you, Patrick, Seamus and Will to be at my house when I arrive."

"Why?"

England opened the door to his room and almost closed it again. He was looking at a strange version of himself, along with what appeared to be different versions of Norway and Romania, and there was a corpse near them.

"Because it would seem we have a problem of the supernatural variety," England said, throwing a sheet over the mirror.

Scotland was silent for a while.

"What kind of problem?" Scotland eventually asked.

"Alternate world," England sighed. "I'd suggest avoiding mirrors. In fact, if you arrive at my house, could you please cover all the mirrors?"

"How bad is it?"

"I just saw an alternate version of myself sampling a human corpse with Romania and Norway."

"…That's sick. Don't worry, I'll get the others. And Artie, please be careful. If you can see into an alternate world, then it's safe to assume that they could see you too. And if they're as twisted as that brief mental image described… Just, be careful."

Arthur swallowed nervously.

"You be careful as well. I don't know who else is affected, but it might pose a problem. Especially if they learn how to cross over."

It was a possibility. A possibility that he didn't want to face.

"Alright then. See you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, see you tomorrow."

He hung up the phone. He might not have the best relationship with his brothers, but when one of them is in danger, then the other four will be there to help in a moment's notice. And when it comes to his magic, the other four were immediately worried. When he was still a child, his magic had attracted a monster. His older brothers, who also had the magic touch, had done all they could to save him. They could no longer use magic.

And when an alternate world was involved, then there's no telling how things could go.

…

France smiled.

He always enjoyed drinking with Spain and Prussia. No matter what, they always managed to cheer him up. And they always managed to have fun, even if they sometimes had to explain their antics while they were drunk, usually to the police. France inwardly shuddered when he remembered the time they had to explain themselves to Germany.

France looked towards the mirror behind the bar. He was glad that he couldn't see the other him. He was glad that he saw his own reflection, Spain and Prussia next to him.

A different version of the Cold War. Remember when I mentioned that the southern countries resented the northern countries? The reason is because of the Cold War in the 2P world. The southern countries of the 1P world are affected by it as well, but not enough to start another Cold War.

The IBSA dialogue forum is basically a representation of south-to-south relations, with Brazil representing South America, South Africa representing Southern Africa, and India representing Southern Asia. All three of them are also members of the G13, which is an extended version of the G8 to include five rising powers, the other two being Mexico and China. So it makes sense that they are to the south what the Soviet Union was to the east.

Nelson Mandela was made an honorary Canadian citizen.

So, the two worlds don't have the same histories. Some events are more or less the same. Others have different versions. And others are completely non-existent in one world.

Oh, and if you're wondering how Matt would be able to drive from Russia to Canada, it's because the 2Ps don't trust any form of public transportation. Some of them have acquired means of teleportation, others know how to fly. For the rest, they created various bridges for easy access across the oceans. With gas stations where they could refill their tanks.