Thanks to madders10, Mx Akiyata and Ariaprincess for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 90: Puppet Show

Marionettes with invisible strings.

Entertain the audience.

Deceive them and make them believe it's real.

…

Everyone had decided to make sandwiches for lunch, since here hadn't been enough time to make a decent meal. All of the ingredients for sandwiches had been laid out, and everyone could choose what they wanted.

Well, almost everyone.

"Where's the vegemite?" Jett demanded, looking around the table.

"We don't have any," Alistair said, shrugging.

"What? I thought you made sure to have all the favourite foods of your former colonies!"

"We have marmite," Will offered.

"It's not the same…"

The other Nations watched the scene with mild disgust, though the Nations on the other side looked more confused.

"What the hell are they arguing about?" Matt asked.

"The foulest thing someone could put on a sandwich," Alfred commented.

"…You've never been offered a sandwich by a cannibal."

"At least it's meat."

Nearby, both Gabriel and Eva spread something dark on their sandwiches. Eva twisted her face in disgust, while Gabriel seemed to like it. Emil placed his hand on his counterpart's shoulder.

"You're officially the bravest man I know," Emil said.

…

Lovino returned to the living room to see the Micro Nations sitting on the couches, arguing about something that he didn't particularly care about. Francesco was sitting to the side, merely smiling at the others' interaction.

Though he would still flinch whenever one of the girls would look in his direction.

"Alright," he said, putting down a platter of sandwiches he was carrying. "I made a few sandwiches, so don't you dare complain about them, understood?"

"Fine," Peter grumbled, going towards the platter.

"Grazie fratello," Marcello said, smiling.

Lovino looked over towards his brother and he could feel a jolt running up his spine. In the brief glance he had of his brother's eyes, they looked… empty. Like Japan's eyes.

He looked over towards the other Micro Nations, and they all seemed to avoid making eye contact with him. He tried to look back towards Marcello, but the other had his eyes closed, like he and Feliciano would sometimes do.

Could it have been just his imagination?

…

Ferdinand shuddered. He didn't know why, but something didn't feel right, but he was blind to what it could be. Though he could sense that it had to do with the Deathplayers.

They were angry, he knew that. But what they would do in their anger, he didn't know, but he knew that it wouldn't be good.

It could result in yet another Red.

…

Yong Soo arrived with a plate full of sandwiches, looking at Hyung Soo expectantly. Jeng Soo was sitting on a chair near the bed.

"Are you hungry?" Yong Soo asked quietly, not wanting to bring more discomfort for his brother.

The North Korean shook his head and turned onto his stomach, burying his head under the pillow. Jeng Soo sighed, before standing and taking a sandwich.

"I think we should let him sleep," Jeng Soo whispered.

Yong Soo nodded his head, and the two left Hyung Soo to try and recover from his migraine.

…

Ludwig sighed, listening to Guyana complain about Rose Hall being under attacked by the Beasts. Of course, once the South American finished ranting, she noticed that Ludwig's voice was female, and the German sighed at the absentmindedness of the South American.

…

Roberto had informed Miguel that he needed to use the bathroom, and the Portuguese accompanied him, standing outside the bathroom. The Brazilian sighed, both touched and annoyed by the other's concern. But he had something important to do.

He had asked Basch to text Ricardo, telling the other Brazilian that he wanted to see him. So when he arrived at the bathroom, Ricardo was waiting for him.

"Is something wrong?" Ricardo asked.

"The Deathplayers let me in again," Roberto said. "The things I saw…"

"How bad is it?"

"Everyone ends up dead."

Ricardo sighed, running a hand through his hair. He then looked back at his counterpart.

"Something tells me that you didn't just want to see me because of what you saw," Ricardo said.

"You're right," Roberto said. "A while ago, Raj contacted me. Not the Red, but Raj. He was weak, but he was there. So I was wondering if the Nations taken as Reds could be reached. And maybe they could tell us where they are, or what the Deathplayers are doing. And I don't think the Deathplayers were even aware that Raj could reach me."

"I see."

"But the thing is, I don't think anyone is going to allow me to try after what happened yesterday."

"And that's where I come in?"

"Sim."

Ricardo sighed.

"It's harder, since I don't know how their souls resonate," Ricardo said.

"It shouldn't be too hard. We've discovered that the two counterparts of Nations share a soul. So they should be similar."

"Similar, but different. I'll try. I know Mahesh's mind and soul pretty well. I'll try Raj first. Or maybe I should practice first with someone that isn't a Red yet."

"Do what you want. But please. If there's a way to reach them – to reach us…"

"Roberto, you are not going to become a Red."

"How can you be sure?" Roberto asked in a small voice.

"Because you are not alone. You have a lot of friends that care for you. You even have a father-figure worried about you. And you're… You're a lot purer than I am. You aren't as bitter and broken as I am."

Roberto looked at his counterpart sadly.

"They'll make sure that I'm not 'pure' anymore, like you said," Roberto said. "I'm a Nation too. I've done my fair share of horrible things."

"But you can still smile," Ricardo sighed.

Roberto jumped when there was a knock on the door.

"Are you alright?" Miguel asked.

"Sim," Roberto said, moving over to flush the toilet.

Ricardo chuckled.

"I wish my Portugal was more like yours," Ricardo said.

"Oh, he has his moments," Roberto said. "So, are you going to try?"

"Sim. Come see me again tonight. If I'm successful, I'll be waiting in front of the mirror."

…

"So," Lovino said, looking at Francesco, "it's your turn to ask the questions now, are we clear?"

Francesco nodded, swallowing nervously. He turned to Sheila.

"So, what's your favourite food?" Francesco asked.

The two Moldovans had rejoined the group, and Lovino had been told very nicely (read: threatened) by Elizabeta to keep an eye on them, especially Alexandru. And Lovino wasn't about to argue with the woman. She was one of the three women that scared him, so naturally he wouldn't do anything to make her upset.

He also wouldn't tell Francesco that there were three women that scared him.

But what bothered Lovino was the fact that the Micro Nations seemed to be trying hard to avoid eye contact with him, and when he managed to look in their eyes, he would see them looking blank, and Lovino didn't know if it was just his imagination, or if something was seriously wrong.

The Moldovas hadn't noticed anything, so Lovino would push his worries aside for now. They were just kids. What could they possibly do?

…

Because Roberto was still a little out of it, they decided to play hockey first before moving on to soccer. They settled on field hockey, since the Kirkland brothers didn't really have a place where they could play ice hockey. Ivan wasn't very happy with the arrangement, so to appease him, they allowed him to be on Matt's team.

And as it turned out, the two Canadians wanted to play against each other again.

Ludwig, Feliciano and Kiku were advised to play as well, and they were doing fairly well. And Bella, Sofia and Anika were proving themselves to be ruthless, just like how the female Nations were ruthless with the rugby game. They didn't have the brute strength of the men, so they had to compensate by being more aggressive.

…

Ricardo sighed, focusing his mind. He would need to do this correctly. Roberto was counting on him, and to be honest, he was curious.

He had decided to test it out on someone that he knew pretty well first. Someone that wasn't a Red. He had settled on Marco, and then he would see if he could shift the attention to Miguel.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He could feel as he was tugged somewhere, and when he opened his eyes he was no longer sitting, but standing.

He could see that he was in Marco's living room, and the Portuguese was curled up on the couch, a book in his hand. The older Nation's shoulders were tense, and Ricardo had a feeling that the older Nation could sense him.

To prove his point, he walked closer and placed his hand on Marco's shoulder. The man lashed out, but his hand went straight through him. His eyes were flashing around, looking straight through Ricardo.

Marco couldn't see him, but he could sense him, and it made the European tense. And when Ricardo touched him, he understood the other's tension. When Marco was still a small child living with Rome, spirits had attacked him, affecting his magic touch: to see spirits. He was spiritually blinded in one eye, causing it to discolour. Marco could still sense the spirit world, but he couldn't see it as well as he used to.

Ricardo didn't want to, but he found himself understanding his former 'caretaker', and why the Portuguese was as cruel as he was, or at least somewhat. Marco lost a part of his soul that was important to him, and he couldn't recover.

But Ricardo couldn't forgive the Portuguese for what he had done to him and other former colonies of Marco. Empathy didn't necessarily lead to sympathy, and neither did it leave to forgiveness.

But he had work to do.

He then tried to shift his attention to Miguel, taking the familiarity of Marco and changing everything he knew about the other's mind and soul and switched it to its opposite.

He was startled when he suddenly arrived outside, surrounded by other Nations. He recognised them, though they were different. The Nations of Roberto's world.

He was standing beside Roberto and Miguel. Roberto looked towards him, blinking in surprise, before smiling. Miguel turned his attention to Roberto.

"What is it?" Miguel asked. "Do you see something?"

"Sim," Roberto said.

"Is it a Deathplayer?"

"Não. It's Ricardo."

Miguel looked confused, and Ricardo took the opportunity to touch the other. He could see the other's past, and saw the other's fear for his former charger. And it was Roberto especially that he was concerned about, considering the circumstances.

Miguel shuddered at the contact, and Ricardo couldn't help but smile softly. The two worlds were truly different, but there were similarities as well. They did horrible things as well, and suffered them as well. But their reactions were completely different. Their circumstances made the Nations in Ricardo's world bitter, but in Roberto's world, they used the opportunity to become stronger.

But Ricardo was only halfway through his experiment. He managed to track the two Portuguese, or at least their bodies. But he needed to see if he could truly reach them, like their minds.

So he focused farther into Miguel and he suddenly found himself in a new place.

…

Miguel was confused about Roberto's words, but seeing that Roberto wasn't worried, he let it go. He shuddered, sensing something near him.

And then he suddenly felt dizzy, his vision going fuzzy.

…

Michael, Miora and Gupta were still in the room they had occupied, trying to make sure that they had everything prepared. They were debating whether or not to include other magical Nations. It was one Ancient as a test subject, so they wouldn't need too much magic, or so they believed.

"We're almost ready," Michael said. "Anything else?"

"Not really," Miora said. "We'll just need to come back once the sun sets. In the meantime, we also need to make sure that no one interferes with what we're doing."

"Agreed," Gupta said. "The results could be catastrophic."

Yared decided to poke his head in the room, looking pointedly at Michael.

"Are you coming?" the Ethiopian asked. "Or are you still playing with magic?"

"I'm finished for now," Michael said, walking to the door. He turned to the other two. "Make sure that no one interferes."

The two Africans nodded, and Yared smiled at them before disappearing, Michael following close behind.

"We should probably join the others," Miora said. "Before they get suspicious."

"You know we'll get in trouble for this later, right?" Gupta asked wryly.

"Oui. But it's better to ask forgiveness than permission."

…

Peter nudged Hans, and the two looked over towards the two Moldovans, who were conversing in Romanian with each other. Hans nodded his head.

"We need to get the two of them away from each other," Peter said. "And we also need to get rid of him."

He glanced over towards Lovino. Hans nodded his head.

"He suspects," Hans said. "Just that something might be wrong, but not knowing what it is."

"It doesn't matter," John said, joining their conversation. "The show must continue."

"We need to get the Italian out of here," Peter said. "He has a bad temper, right?"

"We'll raise suspicion if we try to get him angry," Hans said. "There has to be a way to get him out of the room as soon as possible, and make sure that he stays out, at least until the puppet show is complete."

"I know how to do that," Marcello said, joining the conversation. He turned to his brother. "Fratello, we're getting a little hungry. Could you make us a pizza?"

Lovino turned to him, scowling.

"Why don't you make it yourself?" Lovino asked, though he was a little uneasy.

"Aw, but fratello's pizzas are a lot better than mine could ever be," Marcello responded.

Lovino regarded him for a moment before scoffing.

"Fine, you little bastard," Lovino said. "Let's take a break. And don't go anywhere, any of you. Especially you two."

He looked towards the two Moldovans, who nodded their heads in understanding. Lovino nodded his head, before leaving.

There was silence for a few moments, the two girls moving away from Francesco in the meantime.

"I don't know why you do it," Peter said, turning to Alexandru.

The Moldovan blinked in confusion.

"Do… what?" Alexandru asked in bewilderment.

"Let Nations tell you what to do," Peter said. "I mean, aren't you supposed to be a fully-fledged Nation? Then why are you letting them treat you like a kid?"

"Um, because I am a kid."

"We don't let them do it," Hans said.

"Yeah, but you're brats," Andrei said.

He looked at them with uspicion.

"We're not!" John said. "We actually fight for our right to be considered Nations."

"By being annoying brats."

"Andrei…" Alexandru said. He turned to the Micro Nations. "What's come over you?"

"We can't understand how a fully-fledged Nation could be like you," Hans said. "You let others treat you like a kid, and let's not forget about you missing your big brother."

"You're nothing but a crybaby," Jimmy said.

Alexandru's jaw dropped, and Andrei gritted his teeth.

"Don't you dare say something like that," Andrei said.

"And what about you?" Jack asked. "Never known what it's like to be loved by your brother?"

"You're hanging around with your counterpart, and when his brother was here, you hung out with him," Sheila said. "I think you're trying to make up for the fact that you've never experienced love before."

"Oh, it's perfectly normal," Camille said. "I know all about it. But the difference between you and I, Moldova, is that I'm not trying to pretend. I decided to spend time with Wy here, someone my own age, and not the happier version of myself, or the friendly version of my big brother. Sure, Francis might have sought me out, but I didn't seek him out. You, on the other hand…"

"You try to get something that you've never had," Marcello said.

Andrei clenched his fists, looking furious, but there were tears in his eyes. Alexandru looked at his counterpart sadly.

"You need to apologise," Alexandru said, turning back to the Micro Nations.

"Nu," Andrei said. "I… I need a moment."

Andrei left the room, and Alexandru made to follow, but Camille grabbed his wrist.

"Why'd you say those things?" Alexandru spat, turning to Camille.

"Because it's the truth," she said.

"You don't know that. Let go of me! I need to…"

"You're not going anywhere," Francesco said.

Alexandru fell silent, staring at the Micro Nation in surprise. The tone was dark, but it was almost… empty. Looking around, he saw that they were all menacing, but their eyes were all empty.

Alexandru gasped when he realised what was going on.

"The Deathplayers," Alexandru said.

"That's right," Francesco said. "If you thought you'd get away with, well, getting away, then I hate to disappoint you."

"Actually, I enjoy disappointing him," Hans said.

"The Deathplayers decided that you need punishment," Peter said. "And we're going to be the ones to deliver the punishment."

Alexandru tried to pull away, but Camille had a tight grip. She suddenly pulled him, throwing him to the ground. He tried to stand, but Marcello stepped on his lower back, earning a cry of pain from the Nation.

"Please, stop!" Alexandru said.

"Nope," Jimmy said, kicking the Moldovan in the head, earning another cry of pain.

The Micro Nations proceeded to kick him, and Alexandru could only cry. He couldn't fight back, since a Nation that harmed a Micro Nation was considered weak and pathetic. But, wouldn't he also be considered weak and pathetic by allowing the Micro Nations to beat him.

He could no longer see what was happening, but eventually he felt as they pulled him up to stand. They kept a firm grip on his arms, and he tried to see through the tears. His eyes widened when he could see a familiar figure.

"This is your punishment," the Deathplayer said. "Did you enjoy our puppet show?"

I know, it's later than usual. But it's not midnight yet, so it's still Friday. I've got a few good reasons why this is late. My hostel had a father-daughter day, and my dad's been looking forward to it for more than a year. It was the entire day, from 9 am to 9 pm. In my university town, which is 45 minutes away from my hometown. And I had two papers to complete, one which is 5 pages minimum and the other 7 pages minimum with virtually no sources available. I also had to finish reading a drama for one of the papers. I had a presentation to do for German, and a test with French, and to make things worse, I had insomnia this week, and the sleep deprivation gave me writer's block. I'm also helping out with a project my Creative Writing lecturer is doing with Aardklop, which is kind of like this festival to promote the Afrikaans language. And it's my sister's matric farewell (the South African equivalent of prom), so I didn't have the time, or I was completely exhausted. As is, I haven't read through this chapter, so there might be mistakes.

I've also been craving marmite recently…