Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/n1: I have good news and I have bad news. Yay!
The good news is: I found myself a job, and I'm starting next week. I'll be working on Thursday and Friday, and sometimes on Sunday as well.
The bad news is: I'll be working from 03:30 PM till 01.00 AM most of the time. Which, at the moment, kind of terrifies me. I'm not sure if I'll be able to either write as much or post new chapters around 6 o'clock like I always do on Saturdays… so just keep in mind that the chapters might get shorter/posted later (two hours later or so?) starting from next week. Just so you know.^^

A/n2: Confession: I write these chapters with a Dutch-English vocabulary on my desk. That's right, even after all these years, I still need to check every now and then if it's "to send – sent – sent" or "to send – sent – send". Or how to write excited. Excited is a fucking hard word to get and exited ALSO is a correct English word, so you can probably understand my shock whenever I spot these kind of evil little mistakes in my writings. And what do you think of writing mount instead of mouth? Dear GOD. NO. UNACCEPTABLE.
Long story short: don't be fooled by my seemingly-good English, I am still struggling with writing the correct words every damn chapter.

A/n3: I'm going to teach you one Dutch saying per week now, just because I can, and because they sound ridiculous in English. No, you don't have to thank me. ^^
Alright, here it goes:
Door het oog van de naald kruipen (Crawling through the needle's eye): being very and unexpectedly lucky. So when you're in the Netherlands and you almost get killed by a reckless cyclist if he/she hadn't miraculously missed you, you could tell your Dutch friend: 'Man, I totally crawled through the needle's eye right there!' and score some friendship-points!
Isn't that just wonderful to know! Yay for useless information!

~~ And Three Makes Five ~~

Chapter 71:

If the one who gave me life wants the real me to die, then all I can do is die.
Setona Mizushiro
(Japanese comic artist)

When we cycled back home, I told Seb it would be best for him to go to bed right away. It wasn't really late yet, but it had been a very busy day for him and he needed to rest. That way, he could call his parents tomorrow and ask them all the questions he needed them to answered!

So naturally, Seb started calling them as soon as we got home.

…

Impatient bastard, dammit.

I kind of understood, though, and while he started pacing around the small apartment while snapping at his parents, I decided to be a good girlfriend and wait for him to finish his call, like a saint. I took a saintly shower, put on a saintly shirt and saintly baggy pants and then, I sat in bed with a decent book (total chicklit-shit but whatever, at least it wasn't about creepy people having painful sex with nipple-squeezers and what-not) and waited for Seb to come and join me.

I was nailing it. Best girlfriend ever.

But unfortunately enough, Seb's phone call went on for THREE STRAIGHT HOURS, and by the time he finally finished his call, I had fallen asleep. So he took a shower and quietly tried to crawl next to me afterwards, forgetting the fact I was a terrible sleeper, and I woke up the very instant he not-so-carefully pulled the blankets over himself.

'So,' I softly started, after Seb had muttered an apology, 'what's new?'

He took in a deep breath. 'Well, I seem to be adopted.'

'Yeah, after the third "I'm adopted, oh my god, I'm adopted", I kind of figured that out.'

'This sucks.' Seb groaned and slapped his fist down on the mattress.

'You dislike being adopted that much?' I wanted to know. 'It's not that bad, you know.'

'No, I don't really mind being adopted – it is what it is, after all – but… it's the fact they never told me. And the way I found out I was.'

'Did you ever… wonder whether you were adopted or not?'

'I… I don't really know.' Seb sighed and turned to his side. 'When I was fourteen years old, Mieke was born. I remember my parents being so very happy and surprised when the doctor told them they were going to have a daughter, it was like it was their first kid was going to be born. I didn't really get it, but I always thought that was just my ignorance: of course they react like this! People always act like this when a kid is about to be born – it's normal! So I didn't think too much of it, but…'

'I get it. Your parents couldn't have kids,' I mumbled. 'At least, they thought they couldn't – so they adopted you. But after a couple of years, they somehow managed to get another child, the normal way. It's no wonder they reacted so very happily, but… but I do think they should have told you right then why.'

Seb nodded. 'I agree. I mean… Mieke and I look nothing like each other. She's a redhead, just like my dad, and she has the most amazing blue eyes, just like my mom. But I'm blond and I have green eyes. Neither one of my parents have… blond hair or green eyes. I know that this is a bad example, but still. I always knew I was different – I just never realized I was that different…'

I swallowed a lump and turned to lie on my side as well. 'Are you mad at them?'

'I should, shouldn't I?' Seb chuckled a bit, though it sounded sad. 'My mom was crying during the entire conversation. My dad constantly stuttered how sorry he was for keeping my adoption a secret from me. They claimed they had wanted to tell me – but there never was a good time or something like that. And then I suddenly was an adult and moving out, and Mieke started to rebel like every good pre-teen would, so they just… forgot about it.'

'I'd be furious at them.' I snorted. 'I maybe wouldn't even forgive them.'

'That's the easiest thing to do, Luisa.'

Seb gave me a stern look. Like always, his eyes were half-lidded, as if he didn't bother opening them all the way – but it was just the way he looked.

'Deciding you can solve everything, including your own disappointed feelings, simply by hating people that just wanted the best for you – it's the easiest way out. But it won't make you feel any better. It'll only make you bitter and resentful. I don't want to be like that.'

It was like he was scolding me, somehow, so I got a bit angry. Still, since he had had a rough day, I didn't let him know. Also, it made sense. I hated it when Seb said things that were wise and made sense, dammit, because it made me want to tell him things I couldn't say.

'Maybe I'm still in shock,' Seb in the meantime continued. 'Who knows in what kind of mood I'll be tomorrow morning? But for now, I actually feel kind of relieved. At least I know the truth now – and my parents still love and support me. I can go further now.'

'Go further?' I asked.

'Well, yes. I'd like to know who my real parents are, and also…' he frowned at me, '…it'd like to know why your parents, of all people, knew that my parents weren't my biological parents.'

I didn't respond – I nodded, though. That had bothered me as well. How comes Ángel and Stefano seemed to know Seb's parents weren't his real parents? Did they know them? What was Seb's biological parents' background story?

Seb yawned and rolled himself closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. 'Anyway, I'm going to ask my boss if I can take a week free from work.'

'You are?' I mumbled, shyly running my hands through his short, rosy-smelling hair. 'W-why?'

'I'm thinking about taking a plane and visiting my parents this week. You know, to get to know more about my biological parents – maybe to even meet them. Dad already let me know that at least my father had the same nationality as he, mom and I have, so perhaps I could… visit him.'

'Selfish asshole.' I growled and pulled his hair. 'When did you decide it was okay to leave me all behind here, huh? I-I understand, but it's mean – a-and unfair.'

'I'm not leaving you behind, I'm – ouch, Luu, that hurts – I'm avoiding to get left behind myself.'

'What?'

'You will read that book.' Seb looked up at me. 'And afterwards, you will call that lady, and after that – well – I think you'll probably go to Italy, to find out who your parents are. You'll leave me behind, then.'

'Even if something like that would happen, I-I'd ask you to come and join me, first,' I huffed.

He shook his head. 'This is something you need to find out by yourself, cutie. Just like I need to find out stuff about me by myself as well. It's nice to support each other – but you have to go through troublesome shit sometimes as well.'

'All by… myself.'

'All by yourself.' Seb paused, and then he touched my chest. 'I-I can't fix the hole in your heart, no matter how much I want to fix it, Luu – and I really want to fix it, I really want you to tell me that you love me – god, Luisa, I want to hear your voice say those words so much.'

I got red and wanted to sputter all kinds of lies, but Seb simply put his fingers on my lips.

'You want to tell me, don't you?'

I gasped and felt tears welling up – goddammit.

'You want to tell me, and when it's here, you want to tell our kid as well.' Seb moved his fingers to my eyes and wiped away some wet spots. 'But only you can do it, Luu. I can't. And you know that.'

I pursed my lips together tightly and glared at him as hard as I could, but I couldn't say anything, I couldn't think of a single word to say, for fuck's sake, so I just half-heartedly answered the kiss he suddenly pressed on my lips.

'I love you, Luu,' he whispered as he pulled me close and hugged me, 'and I'll wait. Okay? If it's for you, I'd wait a thousand years. Don't worry about that, princess.'

'Don't worry about that, princess!~'

My eyes widened as the familiar voice I recognized from the past rapidly flashed through my head. Seb had never called me princess before. Neither had Ángel and Stefano. One second it was there, and the other second, it had disappeared again. I knew that voice. But it was gone now.

'Luisa?' Seb stroke my back. 'You heard me, right?'

'Y-yes,' I stammered, awkwardly grabbing his shirt. 'Yes, I-I heard you. I'll do my best.'

'Good.' He calmly grabbed my hesitant hands and put them around his waist, so I could have a better hold on him. He always did that kind of nonchalant thing whenever he sensed I wanted to hold him, but didn't. It was fucking annoying, dammit, and I felt unreasonably happy whenever he did that.

Seb pressed a kiss on my forehead. 'Is it okay to continue our talk in the morning, Luu? I'm a bit tired…'

'Fine by me,' I answered.

'Good night, then.'

'Yeah. G-good night, d-dar…'

'…dar?'

I buried my face in his chest. 'Shut up.'

o\00/

Even though Seb had told me we'd talk about it some more the next day, we ended up not talking all that much about it the very next morning. Not because we had changed our minds or anything – no, I just wasn't a morning person, and Seb totally was. Resulting in me waking up way too late to be able to have any serious talk at all.

I was still rubbing my eyes and pulling my hair out of my mouth in a sleepy daze, while Seb briskly walked up and down the bedroom around fucking 6 in the morning, dammit and gave me a chilly look every once in a while that for some reason turned me on a bit – I don't know – I'm a very weird person.

'Well.' He snorted and put on a red tie. 'I was hoping we could continue what we had discussed about last night before I had to leave for work, but somebody wouldn't wake up.'

'Oh no, what are we to do now,' I boorishly replied, yawning. 'As if I can fucking talk this early in the morning, dammit…'

'You can be sarcastic in the morning.'

'That's not talking. That's a way of life.'

He snickered and turned towards me. 'And? How do look? Would you give me free from work for a week if I asked you while looking like this?'

My eyes studied him. God. Just leave it to him to look gorgeous in a boring business suit, even if he didn't have much ass. And those legs – I kind of wanted to nibble on them, dammit.

'Oh I'd give you a week off, alright. Hell, I'd give you something else, too,' I heard myself blurt out – and instantly felt my cheeks flush as I realized what I had said.

'Ohh, would you?' Seb's grin widened a little.

'No,' I instinctively said.

'Hm, I wonder just what would you give me, then…' he teased.

'Nothing. A kick in the ass, maybe.'

I blushed even more furiously as he momentarily sat down on the bed again, leaning his face way too close to mine. I had backed off if I had been fully awake, but I hadn't, so I could just keep sitting the way I was, ugh, so annoying, but oh well, I guess it couldn't be helped.

'How about sex,' he very bluntly asked as he took my chin in his hand.

'What – now?' I stammered. 'B-but didn't you have to go to work?'

Also, I wasn't sexy at all right now, dammit, with my smelly breath and half-closed, crusty eyes, yuck, but I did like to do stuff with him right now, hmm, maybe I could at least distract him for five minutes and brush my teeth or something…

…but then Seb shook his head.

'Not now, but… later. You know. When I'm back.' He rubbed my lips and seemed to get a faint, pink glow on his cheeks.

'Well. Um.' I flushed a bit as well and frowned, as if I was debating with myself about whether I was willing or unwilling to have sex with my smoldering-hot boyfriend later this day.

…

…

Shortest inner-debate I ever had.

'Fine,' I sighed, rolling my eyes, 'fuck, why not, it's not like you're bad at it, so I guess I could answer your request by… by doing you.'

Oh GOD.

By doing you?

WHY.

WHYYYYYYYYY.

Seb cocked one of his eyebrows and watched my face make all these kind of blown-up/ashamed/deargodjustkillmenow -expressions in admiration, before grinning and stealing an unexpected kiss from me.

'You're so cute.'

'I'm not, dammit, I'm way too feminine to be cute,' I growled, pushing his damn face away from mine. 'N-now go to your stupid job already. And don't look at me all gushy like that – I'll fucking punch your lights out, I-I swear!'

'Alright, alright…' He chuckled and raised up from the bed again. 'You're right, I need to get going. I hope you have a wonderful day today, cutie.'

'You, too.' I smiled faintly at him.

'Oh, and if you have some time – try to look for a job today as well, okay?'

My smile instantly vanished.

His smile faltered as well. 'Try. Okay? Just try to find one. I know it's not easy for you, but it's hard for me, too, you know. I now have to take care for three people. I could use some assistance.'

'Y-yeah, I-I know.' I averted my eyes. I did feel pretty guilty about having Seb paying for all my life costs and what-not. Things were going to get even harder once we had a baby, so I should really get a job already.

…

I doubted there were many people out there looking for pregnant, inexperienced, twenty-something girls to hire, though.

o\00/

Seb and I exchanged some more kisses, b-because why the hell not, and then he left for work.

I stayed behind, still in bed, and went for another nap.

…

It just was FUCKING EARLY, OKAY, so of course I went back to sleep! Good god, the bookstore I intended to visit later wasn't even open yet anyway! So let me sleep already – damn!

So I slept.

For hours.

Which was just ridiculous. I mean, I finally woke up around noon, and that was only because my cell phone all of a sudden started ringing fanatically, like someone was fucking slaughtering it. I should be ashamed, really. If Seb knew about this, ohh, he'd give me those evil, sexy glares again…

Oh. Ohhhh. Maybe I should text him about it.

…

Naaah…

Anyway, my phone was flipping out, so I hastily stumbled out of bed and grabbed it from the nightstand.

'H-hello, Luisa here…'

'Hi Lulu!~ Good afternoon!'

I smiled a bit, surprised. Matteo sounded chipper today – that was good!

'Hi Matteo,' I greeted him as well as I sat down on the bed – I just couldn't leave that damn piece of furniture alone, could I? 'How are you doing?'

'I'm fine – no, I'm great, actually!~' Matteo chuckled excitedly. 'I just got a new client – a very rich guy, too! He let me know he wants to order so many, I actually fell off my chair, can you believe that? Ahahahaha!~ I'm going to make a lot of money with this one, Lulu, so you better keep a spot open in your agenda: we're all going out for a very expensive dinner in about a couple of weeks, as soon as I've done this job! On my expenses!'

'Really? That's great!' I said. 'But spending all of that money on me and our stupid family – that's a bit reckless, don't you think? Why not save a part of it for the future of my niece, huh?'

Matteo laughed. 'Oh, don't worry about that, of course I'll save a huge part of that for her!~ I'll do everything for her! That's what I promised myself – and what I promised Kay, of course.'

A short, uncomfortable silence. As I feverishly thought about a way to talk about something else, I could hear men and women shouting at Matteo on the background – probably to ask him if he could come help them out.

'Anyway – yes, I'm coming, just a minute! – I heard from Allie that dinner with Papa Ángel and Papa Stefano went kind of wrong, yesterday night? Oh, and that I owe him twenty euros. Which reminds me: congratulations on your pregnancy, Lulu!~ You'll be a great mom, and Seb's going to be a very wonderful dad!'

That was a lot to respond to, but since I rather talked about my pregnancy than about the fight at our dads' place yesterday evening, I decided to react on that, first. My pregnancy, I mean.

'Thank you. You know you're the first one that actually congratulated me?' I huffed. 'Our fathers just nagged about it and that bastard-twin of yours just gloated about this stupid bet he made with you – thanks for that, by the way.'

He snickered. 'Sorry, Allie and I might have been a bit drunk when we made up that bet – also, there are lots and lots of nice people in those flashy bars he visits from time to time, did you know that? They're so friendly! – but anyway, I really am happy for you! Being a parent is lovely, trust me! A bit heavy, yes, but still lovely. I enjoy each and every day. It's a blessing!~'

'Aww.' I let out a puff of breath. 'Thanks for your support, Matteo. Really.'

'So I guess you're now going to try and find our biological parents, huh?'

'Wow.' I snorted, impressed by his none-too-subtle change of subject. 'Alejo informed you well.'

'You know us – we like to keep each other up to date about all kinds of stuff. Like going out with creepy French girls.'

'You mean you met her already? How was she?'

Matteo made a "tssk"-noise. 'Don't try to babble your way out of it, Lulu – I was first with my question.'

Crap. Matteo was a dim moron, sure, but he also was responsible and caring as fuck. Of course he wouldn't be distracted by something that would keep him from figuring out what was troubling his dear sister, dammit.

'So,' he insisted, 'what about it? Are you really going to take action and look them up?'

'Sort of,' I muttered reluctantly. I wanted to leave it at that, really, but I knew Matteo wasn't going to let it go unless I'd tell him exactly what I was going to do, and why, like he was a damn teacher, which he was not.

That's why I ended up telling him about all my plans I had made up to this point: reading some book, calling some Italian lady, allowing both of them to completely put my world upside-down – because let's face it, I knew that was what was going to happen. It had to go like that.

'Okay, good luck with that,' Matteo said, sounding a bit rushed – god, he really needed to continue his work-activities or whatever already, even if he was the boss. 'Please keep me and Allie informed about how things go, alright? And tell us if we can help you out, somehow.'

'Will do,' I promised.

'And make up with our dads.'

'Ugh.'

'No "ugh". I'm not asking you to call them – they'll probably call you themselves later today anyway, since that's just our fathers for you – but I'm asking you to be reasonable and try to place yourself in their shoes. They raised us for twenty years, Lulu, they view us as their very own children. That we don't feel the exact same way doesn't change anything!'

That surprised me. 'So you admit it? You also feel… that hole? You also don't feel like they're our very own dads?'

'You mean "our very own parents", right?'

'Yes – what did I say, then?'

'You said "our very own dads".'

'Seriously?'

'Yup.'

'No way.'

'Yes way.'

'Oh. Well… well, you know what I meant, dammit!'

Matteo snickered, but he admitted it, yes, he knew what I had meant to say, yes yes, of course, calm your tits, Luisa.

'WHAT DID YOU SAY,' I breathed out VERY loudly – but at the same time, I could hear even more impatient voices on the background.

'Sorry Lulu – got to go now! Take care, okay? Bye bye!~'

'Yeah bye,' I moodily grunted back.

Matteo giggled one last time and then he hung up – and it wasn't before I heard him hang up that I suddenly realized that my cute but also fucking sly brother never answered my question about the holey heart.

…

Crap.

o\00/

After Matteo's call, I got myself dressed and put on some make-up. That was because I was going to actually leave the house today, so in other words, people were going to look at me, and it'd be nice if they at least could look at a somewhat-nice face.

My dress was long and not all that special – just a long, blue, strapless dress – and my short-sleeved, white jacket wasn't all that great either, but when I checked myself in the mirror, I think even Alejo would have said that I didn't look all that bad.

…

I just wished my hair didn't made impressions of dying hay all day long.

YES, DYING HAY. That's what it looked like so that's what it fucking looked like.

In the end, I gave up and just put my hair in a giant bun, because what else should I fucking do with it aside from setting it on fire and hoping the remains would make a fertile basis for my new, just as shitty hair?

Nothing, exactly, so yay for giant hair buns!

Anyway, after tidying myself up and grabbing a purse, I left the apartment – after having done this slightly neurotic routine in which I checked all the (closed!) windows and made sure the door was correctly locked and stuff – and subsequently, I went to the nearest bus stop and waited for the damn thing to appear and take me to my favorite bookstore.

I looked at my watch. Seemed like I still had to wait fifteen whole minutes longer before the bus would come.

…

Double-crap.

o\00/

Instead of telling about how sultry hot and uncomfortable the short bus trip to the bookstore was, I'll continue my story at the moment I arrived at the old bookstore and let my eyes admire the super-retro, brown, wooden exterior of the shop. It had these big, glass windows, crammed-full with books in all shapes and forms. Sure, E-books and the like were on display as well, but books were still very popular and well-read by people nowadays.

I really liked what they did with the show-window: they had put country flags and stereotypical, fake food from cultures all over the world strategically placed next to books, vocabularies and giant photo's of gorgeous European cities. A wine glass here, a series of derpy but adorable Matryoshka dolls there, a few different kinds of birds dangling from the ceiling, like a little mobile thing babies always have… I loved it!

It was typical with this store. They had a different theme each month, and it looked like travelling or at least different cultures was this month's theme. So I was feeling a little bit excited when I entered the bookshop.

Inside the store, the air was a lot cooler. Although the Summer was kind of dull and watery this year, today had been exceptionally hot – so you bet it was nice to enter a fresh and properly-airconditioned shop. There weren't a lot of people wandering around, except for a few old ladies and some teens obviously skipping school, but what had I expected? It was a normal day in a normal week – Tuesday. One of the hardest days of the week, right after Monday. Of course there barely was a living soul in the damn shop – they were all fucking working.

But this wasn't the moment to pity myself. I mean, I had a mission, dammit – a quest, even! I needed to collect this book! My future could possibly depend on it! I needed to read it, as soon as possible!

I stared at the book-display in the middle of the store, with at least thirty different books neatly lined up next to each other. Then I looked over at another, similar table, next to this one. And then yet another book-display, placed right behind the other one, caught my attention. And don't even think I ever forgot about all those huge bookcases standing against the walls. And oh, look at that, seemed like the bookshop had several stories.

…

Triple-fucking-crap.

How on Earth was I ever going to find one shitty book in this old-fashioned, chaotic book-paradise?

'Could I be of any assistance, miss?' I suddenly heard – and I looked up from the table in front of me, slightly startled. Apparently, I must have looked idiotically helpless, since a guy from my age (with a nametag on his shirt and a cringing smile on his mug) had felt the need to help me out.

Well, good! I felt relief washing over me and turned around to face him.

'Hi. I'm looking for this book.'

'You don't say.'

I repressed my natural instinct to make a disgusted "ugh-great-a-smartass" –face and tried to bend my lips into a pleasant smile.

'Yes. A book. Written by Benedetta Tosca. Does it ring any bells…?'

He blinked, first, and then he spread his eyes open wide. 'Does it ring any bells? Are you serious?'

'I am – w-why?' I frowned, wondering if I had made a unacceptable social mistake of some sorts.

'Why, of course we have, as you called it, "a book written by Benedetta Tosca"! She's the best-selling author of the moment – we'd be a very lousy bookstore if we didn't have her book!' the guy explained, laughing a bit and pointing to the big pedestals on each and every table, with a thick book and a fucking spotlight on it that proudly towered over all the other books, as if it was looking down and laughed at them for their pathetic puniness.

Or in other words: how the hell did I not see that book?

'Her book as been in many programs and she's even giving readings about it all over Europe,' the bookshop-guy told me as he took a copy off a pedestal. 'She's a very intelligent doctor from Italy, but her book's remarkably readable, even if you're not that sharp. It was an instant hit when it was released, partly thanks Tosca's many connections and her publisher's smart advertizing.'

'Is it any good?' I sheepishly asked – I couldn't save face at this point anymore anyway, so why bother trying to hide the fact I indeed was one of those people who only watched series, movies and lame cooking programs on the TV and avoided the news, current-affairs-programs and more intelligent shows at all costs?

The guy grinned, amused by my slow-wittedness. 'It's quite good yes – it's a best-selling hit, after all – but it's also pretty unconventional. It has caused a pretty big ruckus in Italy, but also in other European countries, like France, Spain, and even Switzerland. The information we get thanks to that book sounds too amazing, too ridiculous to be true, but apparently, the big bosses of the world are getting pretty worried about it!'

'Really?'

He looked around himself, before leaning a bit more my way. 'I even heard that they're having EU-meetings about it – discussing whether the book should be banned or not. Some countries think it should, others think they'll ignore a lot of human rights if they do. It's a big topic!'

It was a big topic, and I knew nothing about it. Neither did Seb or Matteo, probably, since they worked all the time, or Alejo, since he was too busy being disgusting with his scary girlfriend. I wondered if Ángel and Stefano had heard about it, though.

But I didn't really get it – what did a heavily discussed book had to do with me? Or my biological parents?

'What's it about?' I therefore asked the bookstore-guy.

'In short, it's about the doctor's life experiences with countries, shady organizations, personifications and kids.' He gave me one more giddy look before handing over the book to me. 'You should go out more, you know? You're way too pretty to hide yourself from the world. Maybe you and I could—'

Beat it, dope-face, I'm not interested in dweebs, I wanted to say – but in the end, I just cut him off with a single, stone-cold look. Then I read the summary of the back of the book without paying any more attention to the annoying dipshit with the loser name. Robertoriono - seriously? What a nerd.

Anyway, the book was indeed about the writer's personal experiences with… countries, or so I read. And personifications. The living, breathing and immortal personifications of an actual country. Doctor Tosca claimed there were people out there that looked like humans, but weren't humans – they were personifications of a nation. For example, England wasn't just a land. No, it was also a twenty-something guy living in London, in a relationship with America – the personification America. Who also was a guy. And they, and many other similar, immortal couples, had a kid that was genetically theirs, too.

What. The. Hell.

What was this shit? Was this even real – it sounded more like some sort of made-up fantasy-crap! From Japan! It made no sense whatsoever! Did people actually read this? Did they believe it, too? Who was this doctor Tosca anyway – how could they be so sure she wasn't making all kinds of nonsense up to gain money? And come on, would the world leaders really freak out because of such a stupid, unrealistic, clearly fictional work of—

…but wait a minute, Dope Face Robertoriono just told me that the world leaders actually were freaking out, thanks to the book. Naturally, that could be because it apparently had caused some unrest in the world (people love some good, collective hysteria from time to time after all) …or was it the other way around – did the world leaders become restless because of the book's contents?

Interesting, certainly. This book could indeed be pretty exciting to read. Who knows what kinds of intriguing facts I'd get to learn about when I read the book? No wonder it was so popular at the moment.

BUT.

What did that book, that author, those countries/personifications/living creeps and even the world's most powerful leaders have anything to do with me or my real parents?

Unless…

No.

No, no. That would be – no. That's insane.

I shook my head, smiling a little because of my own silliness, and opened the book, just for the hell of it, flipping some pages to see if there were some photo's in it. You know, just… just to make sure. That what I had in mind couldn't be true. I needed to weaken my crazy hypothesis – and that probably was a piece of cake.

Then I suddenly stopped flipping through the book, stopping at a certain page.

To protect the privacy and lives of the personifications, the author hadn't included any pictures of them in it. She had, however, put in the pictures of their mortal children.

And no matter how long I stood there gaping at a randomly-taken picture of three small children, telling myself that it couldn't be true, it just wasn't so, it was madness, I still knew, for 100%, that the shiny necklace of that grumpy, big-haired girl standing in-between two identical, broadly-smiling boys was, in fact, mine.

RSS

I was walking back home, with my now-heavy backpack on my back. I could handle it, though.

As I took the same road back to my place and stared in the distance, I suddenly noticed Spain. Looked like he had just returned from grocery shopping, judging from the heavy-looking, filled paper bag in his hands. Good thing I had left his and South Italy's House on time, then.

'Hi!' he greeted me and stopped walking when he was right in front of me. 'How nice to see you!~'

I managed to put a convincing smile on my face and gave the immortal man a small nod. 'Hello, Mr. Fernandez.'

'It's been so long since I've seen you! At least a month or three, I think? Here, let me look at you!' Spain started, his green orbs quickly scanning over me. His smile weakened the longer he looked at me and at a certain moment, I even noticed worry in his eyes.

But I noticed more things about him. I noticed he was in a very good mood, since he had these smile-wrinkles in the corners of his mouth, even when his smile wasn't that broad. I noticed he had cut his fingers this morning, because that bandage on his thumb was new. I noticed he wore the same clothes as yesterday. And I noticed he had had a lot of sex this morning, because of all the badly-hidden hickeys in his neck, bite-marks on his partly-naked shoulders and goofy post-sex expression he always wore after having been intimate with his lover.

I always noticed these things. I was trained to, after all.

'How are your parents doing?' Spain asked, forcing me to pay more attention to his words. 'I haven't spoken to them all that much – I'm afraid I'm not a very good neighbor, huh? Ahahahaha…'

I kept smiling and told him my parents were fine. This probably wasn't the right moment to tell Spain that my dad had moved away and that my mother had killed herself a few years after their separation – exactly ten years ago, this very day.

'You seem happy,' I observed, readjusting the backpack on my back a bit with my shoulders.

'Yes!' Spain grinned excitedly. 'That's right – you want to know why?'

I knew why – but I was polite and looked at him questioningly.

'You see, in about a few more weeks, Lovino and I – oh, I mean, Mr. Vargas and I – will be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary. We were planning to throw a huge party in the Sagrada Família! I'm so psyched about it – and just a minute ago, I got the call – we got the green light! We can have our party there!'

I could tell he was psyched – he very carelessly told me, a normal person, that he had been married to the same man for almost twenty years, even though he looked like he was about the same age as me. On the other hand, mother once told me most personifications never really tried their best to hide their immortality, so maybe Spain just didn't care.

Anyway, I could understand his joy. The Sagrada Família, one of the most breathtaking and downright quirky churches of all time, had finally been completed a couple of years ago. I had heard from mother that Spain and South Italy had gotten married in the unfinished piece of art years before it was completed, so it was very normal Spain and South Italy had been hoping to celebrate such an important day inside the church that meant so much for them.

'Congratulations,' I said, 'I'm happy for you and Mr. Vargas.'

'You're also more than welcome to come – and your parents, too!' Spain went on. He meant it – I noticed, naturally – because he kept looking straight at me and the friendly, yet concerned glance in his eyes never disappeared.

'That's kind of you,' I said.

'Great! We'll send you an invitation as well, then!' Spain promised. 'Think you can make it?'

I shrugged, but my face must have said more than enough.

Spain lost the smile. 'Well, just see if you can, okay? The more the merrier, after all.'

'Indeed.'

'Also…'

'Yes?'

'Are you okay?'

I wasn't surprised he asked me this question. I was quite tall, but I probably had become pretty skinny and my skin was pale and fragile. My short, black hair was greasy and unkempt and my clothes were old and tattered.

'I'm fine,' I simply answered, waving my hand dismissively. 'Don't worry about it.'

'You sure?' He tilted his head a bit, still watching me, although I could see his eyes were glancing into the direction of his House as well. He wanted to go to South Italy and tell him the good news already.

'I'm sure.' I flashed him my most convincing smile. 'Now go back home already, I bet Mr. Vargas is fed-up with reading comic books in the garden by now.'

Spain gave me a confused, puzzled look, and in my head, I cursed at myself. I wasn't supposed to know South Italy was in the garden. After all, I was the estranged girl-next-door that never left her home, not a failed spy that had just been collecting the microphones and camera's her mother had installed in the neighbors' House years ago.

But since Spain's a nice guy, I was lucky: he didn't ask further. He just gave me another very warm smile and asked me to please take a bit better care of myself. I automatically told him I would, and then I said goodbye. I had more things to do today.

I already stood in front of my door when I heard Spain again, calling my name this time.

'Oh, Raquel – one more thing!'

'Yes?' I yelled back. Like me, he was standing before his front door – and even though we were neighbors, it were a lot of meters that parted our houses: we had to shout to communicate.

'Can you do me a favor? Lovi and I – Mr. Vargas and I made an appointment with a florist today, but there's a chance we won't be home when he stops by – something else came up, after all: we need to check out the Sagrada Família!~'

'Uh-huh,' I said. He couldn't hear me, but he saw me nodding.

'Well… could you be so nice to help me out here and hear him out in our place, so that we know what kind of flowers we can use for the anniversary-party?'

I stared at him.

'I'm kind of busy, Mr. Fernandez.'

'Please?~' I could see his begging face, even from this distance. 'You just need to talk to him, hear him out, maybe take some flyers and forms from him and make an appointment for the next time.'

…

What?

'Ah, that reminds me – we'll probably be busy the next time as well, now that I think about it - with the party and all - so decide the next appointment yourself, okay? Oh, and make sure to talk to us tomorrow about the choices of flowers and other decoration stuff we have! You can stop by whenever you want!~'

'Mr. Fernandez,' I loudly said, my voice slightly shaking, 'I just told you I'm busy. I can't—'

'I won't call and tell the police you've been sneaking around in our House if you say yes.'

I couldn't say a word. I knew he knew I had been in his House – but I hadn't expected him to blackmail me with it like this.

'Why?' I therefore replied, hesitantly.

Spain just smiled at me in sympathy. But that hopeful, still painfully-concerned smile said enough.

So I sighed and nodded, averting my eyes. 'Fine.'

'What?' he yelled.

'I said FINE!' I cried out, annoyed.

Spain grinned victoriously. 'Thank you!~'

'Yeah, right,' I mumbled – but still waved back at him when he waved at me, before entering his House.

I went inside my house as well, eventually.

I closed the door behind me, dumped my backpack on the dusty ground and stared at the old chair in the middle of the dark room, with the rope attached on the ceiling dangling above it.

Looks like I had to postpone my planned activities for today to some other time.