The room was now packed with an audience Prussia never wanted. He felt so fragile, looking at the pattern on the board and back up at Russia whose face held a smile that he wanted to rip off. As much as he hated the tall nation, he had never initially agreed to this challenge.

Perhaps this was what America felt when… Prussia shook his head and kept his eyes on his pieces. He lost his horses and was down to a single rook.

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he picked up the bishop and moved it a few squares deeper into Russia's flank. At least that would keep him busy while he planned on how to get his king out of the trap that would yet reveal itself. I know it's there, I know it's there. You can't hide it, du hurehnsohn.

He straightened his back. Now it was Russia's turn to hunch. Prussia followed the direction of his opponent's eyes. What are you trying? What's your next move?

As though he had read his thoughts, Russia looked back and smiled at him. Then he retracted his horse. Wait. What's with the ope—

Mein Gott! Prussia's eyes went wide and as his hands fell onto his thighs. Sweat trickled down his face anew. Of course! Why didn't I see that coming? Verdammt!

"Your turn now, Prussiya."

In his head, some of the tiles glowed. The albino rubbed his chin and made to pick up a piece. His fingers jumped back. Wait! That would only…

He won't make it. If he uses the rook on the offensive, it will effectively block Russia's queen which he probably wants him to do. But should I tell him? Germany dried his forehead. Watching from the side, he knew what move his brother would pull of next. But he knew that it would guarantee a greater loss.

Think, bruder! That can't be the only solution. He turned to the doorway. Austria and Hungary were now entranced in the game.

She didn't know who to root for. She didn't even know whether or not she should be involved. But the game was so fascinating that it forbade her from taking her eyes off it. And for the first time (since 1956?), Prussia wore the face that had defined his finest moments. It was the only face that told anyone not to mess with him or else.

Russia's new pattern exposed him to an attack from the right. She mentally slapped herself. Ugh! You're thinking like the old you, again! But she couldn't help it.

She blinked to clear her mind. Looking at Prussia, then at Russia—two people whom she has had trouble with—made her feel awkward. Here was a competition between two countries, one of whom no longer had a state.

Prussia was sweating heavily, the fabric of his garment now sticking to his skin. If Prussia would take up the vulnerability, he would certainly turn the tide of this match. Hungary wanted to slap herself. Why support that megront? Then again, things wouldn't be the same without his antics. She straightened herself, her eyes blinking wildly with bafflement. Ó Istenem! What are you thinking, Hungary?

On the other hand, Russia was taking it rather lightly. Smiling and with his leg crossed, he seemed to enjoy the mental torment being inflicted upon his opponent. That sadist. She shuddered at the memory. He opened up just so he could… trap him. Russia wants him to take the spot!

She opened her mouth. Then closed it. Why should I? Both of them haven't been of much help to me anyway.

Against her better judgment, she looked at Austria. The expression on his face was no similar to that of Germany's.

This is quite a complication. Austria brought his knuckle under his nose. Russia's move is a double-edged sword! If Prussia doesn't comply the way he wants him to, things would go his favor.

He narrowed his eyes. Then again, if he does, Russia might acquiesce to the attack, allowing the idiot to go in deep. Then he'll trap whatever's left of his strike force effectively exposing his king.

Austria was no stranger to Russia's mind games. And for a moment, he felt off for considering alternative moves for his long-time rival.

This is it. I guess I have no choice. Prussia sighed. Taking the rook, he moved it across the board in the opposite direction much to everyone's surprise. I just hope this works.

Russia's smile disappeared replaced only by a confused look. With a huff and a grunt, the tall nation countered Prussia's move with his queen. That had a more profound effect on everyone. Prussia now was at a heavy disadvantage.

"Scheisse…"

Five minutes later, it was over. Prussia's face lay buried in his palms. A triumphant Russia stood up and extended his hand. The albino refused to raise his head resisting the urge to grab him by the throat and press him against the wall.

Russia read the atmosphere. "Oh, it seems you took it quite personally."

"I guess I did," Prussia muttered coldly.

"Well, it's too bad you lost. Kaliningrad could have been yours had you not attacked me early on."

Shockwaves crashed through Germany, Austria, and Hungary.

"Don't rub it in, verdammt."

"I am sorry, Prussiya, but a deal is a deal. You lost and so you can't have Kaliningrad. Maybe next time, you will be lucky. She misses you, too. Although, she doesn't mention you much very often…for the past few decades or so, I guess. Hah!"

And with that Russia left the room leaving a bewildered Germany to console his miserable and angry brother.

"Bruder, why did you not tell about this agreement?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise…" I just didn't expect your meeting to end so early.

Austria could not help but feel pity. "So you made a deal with Russia that if you won this chess game, you would get your old capital back."

"Not just my old capital, arschloch." She's not just a capital. She's Königsberg.

"You wanted your country back," Hungary echoed. "She really was all you had." I miss Königsberg, too. And for the first time in a long time, she hugged Prussia. She didn't know why. She only allowed herself to take in the tears that quickly stained her garment.

NOTE: Just so you know, I personally have never won a legitimate chess game since 2001. No kidding.