Spain bowed as he stepped into the stadium, smiling at the crowd who clapped and cheered his name. A few pretty señoritas waved at him, spreading their decorative fans and blowing him kisses. He wiped the sweat off his brow; for some reason he felt hotter than normal, and wished he'd drank a little more water today. He felt like he was in some sort of a haze, but he tried to get past it and focused his attention on the bull.

The bull entered the arena, but to Spain's shock, so did a second. It was smaller, young and energetic, and Spain felt a nervous thumping of his heart in his chest. Why were there two? What chance did any one person stand against two bulls? France and Prussia always told him that he shouldn't even face one. Was someone out to hurt him? His mind was all a blur.

Sighing, he bravely pulled out his red blanket and started swishing it in the air to attract the creatures. "Toro," he beckoned, and then amended himself. "Toros…"

The smaller bull, instead of charging, approached him slowly, really gently, and nudged him on the shoulder in an attempt to push him onto his back. Spain's lung started contracting in frantic pants; what was it trying to do, make it easier to trample him?

"No, no, no!" he cried, waving the blanket away from his face, closing his eye then peeking one open to see what it would do. The bigger bull opened its mouth, and what happened next made Spain's heart skip at least a beat or two. It spoke.

"Idiota!" The voice was Romano's. "You're-a sick, get back in bed!"

Spain felt his stomach lurch and the next thing he knew, he was heaving onto the arena's dusty ground, drawing gasps from the crowd. "You- you ate Romano!" he exclaimed to the animal, tears filling his eyes. "I can't-a believe you ate-a mi Romanito! Oh Romano!" He felt his knees give way beneath him and he sank to the ground, his frame wracked with pitiful sobs.

Sure, the Italian often caused him trouble as a kid. Sure he was foul-mouthed with a temper to match, but he was Spain's best friend in the whole world and he couldn't stand the thought of life without him. His little tomato,his Romanito…

He felt the younger bull's hoof on him and Romano's voice whispering, "Spain, mio dio! No-a bull ate me! I'm here! There's-a no bull." He chuckled fondly. "Don't-a cry, si?"

Spain's eyes narrowed. He'd never known a bull to act so human, but he'd show it he wasn't stupid! "Enough!" He stood up, feeling oddly dizzy, and somehow managed to push the massive creature aside. Adrenaline from anger, he assumed. "You'll pay for what you did for Romano, you hear me! You'll pay!"

"Oh, Spain," a higher voice sobbed as something cold passed across his forehead, making him shiver. His heart dropped to his gut, where it continued pounding.

"You-you ate Feli, too?"

To be continued again…:)