Hey again! This isn't so much of an update as it is a notice that I'm still interested in this story. Really, I never lose interest in it, but I never have any free time, either. Just a heads up, if you want to message me, it'll take a while for me to get back to you. I'm going to be doing some volunteer work in Vietnam for the full month of July, so I won't have a computer with me.

But you don't care about any of that! You want to read what I've got, right?

Enjoy!

Russia had a tendency to be the host for the meetings between the Allies, and the Yalta Conference was no exception. After all, the Crimean port of Yalta on the Black Sea belonged to Ukraine, and therefore belonged to Russia, because the Soviet Union was one big happy family, in which everything belonged to everyone. This was why Russia took it upon himself to set up the next game for the reenactment.

Well, that was the reason that Russia gave, anyway.

Meanwhile, England and America stood on opposite sides of the clearing. Evidently, they were no longer on speaking terms. America had roped in Japan to keep him company, and to have someone to complain to. England, however, was alone, so he had to keep himself distracted by pondering the source of the curse, which he was growing ever more desperate to find and which he blamed for all of his problems.

France knew what Russia was really planning. Er, not the plan exactly, but France knew it had to do with the peer pressure scheme. Hopefully, Germany would return before it got to that, but until then France had to get China to play along as well.

China came to him first. "I can't believe that ship turned out to be nothing but a false hope, aru! I think you should commission me to build an airport in addition to the maid café, aru."

"Mon cher, I do not think... Did you say commission?"

"Yes, aru! Do you think I build for free?" China grimaced judgmentally. "You are paying for my service when we get back to land, aru! And I am certainly not going to build an airport here if I cannot make a profit from it, aru!"

"But I thought it was from the good of your heart!" France sighed coolly. "Oh, I suppose payment is only fair, even though it did not entirely work. Actually, it may have made me worse off... But I cannot afford to have you build an airport here." The Frenchman doubted that China could even pull off a project of that scale, but it wasn't entirely impossible. China had accomplished more unlikely feats before.

And this was going to be one of them.

France flipped back his hair. "Anyway, my friend, would you be so kind as to do me a small favor?"

"What now, aru?" China remarked with perfectly-warranted exasperation.

"Nothing too difficult. In fact, I will even make it simpler for you." France gave the Chinese man the charming grin of a con-artist. "Do you remember what happened between Prussia and, uh, um, that other guy..."

"Yes, I remember." China shook his head disapprovingly. "How can I forget, aru!"

France nodded, more at his own thoughts than in agreement with his Ally. "Yes, well, that sort of event, or something like that sort of event, is going to happen again at least one more time, here, very soon. Do you understand, mon cher?"

"What? That is ridiculous! Between who?" China looked around at the remaining nations. "... Do you mean between America and Japan, aru?" China spat furiously. "Because I will not let America-!"

"Non, non, I do not mean them! Although, that is an interesting idea, but... Non, non."

"Then..." China's brow raised. "Do you mean England and yourself?"

What! What a ridiculous idea! France parted his lips to answer in the negative.

But China was just chock full of good ideas today.

Without a second of hesitation, France answered with a sly wink. "Absolument, mon cher."

"Romano? Romano! Please, get down from there! I can explain everything, but please come down, or you will hurt yourself."

"No w-way! Fuck off, tomato bastard!"

Prussia burst into the pub, with Canada taken captive under one arm, to find Spain staring up at the top of the tent, where Romano had managed to secure himself. The Italian showed no signs of coming back down.

At least Spain was taking it with good humor. "Ay, Prussia, amigo, can I have some help here?" Spain shrugged with a happy laugh.

"I hate all of you!" Romano buried his face into the top of the tent. "Go to hell!"

Prussia laughed. "You should have picked someone else to play the game with, Spain." He let his voice drip with reverse psychology. "After all, Romano would never go along with our plan to humiliate West. He's far too, ha ha, he's far too good for that!"

The Italian glanced down at them. "W-What?"

An embittered Germany burst into the pub and nearly knocked Prussia over. Spain, however, stepped in front of him, like a bullfighter attempting to tame his beast. "Hola. You seem upset, Germany, but you should relax! After all..." Spain smiled charmingly. "We are all Axis powers here."

"Please step aside, Spain, I-" Germany's eyes twitched. "... You were an Axis power? I do not remember you having any involvement."

"Oh, lo siento, sorry about that." Spain dipped his head in apology. "I had a civil war right before the Second World War began, so, I could not really help too much. P-Pero! I had a Fascist dictatorship until 1975, so I would have belonged to the Axis powers, had anyone asked..."

"Spain, you don't have to stall him!" Prussia shouted. "We're ready to go here."

"Stalling!" The enlightened German stared harshly at the delightful Spaniard, who only chuckled. Germany pushed past him to find Prussia leaning against the bar, with Canada standing rigidly at confused attention.

Romano, still cursing several times, finally jumped down from the ceiling. Of course, Spain moved to catch him, but Romano simply took that opportunity to land his foot on Spain's face and kick him to the floor. Spain, of course, kept his good spirits, and took Romano to the side to calmly whisper to him in Spanish.

"Explain yourself, East!" Germany poked his finger into Prussia's chest. "What are you doing with, with, with, with this country here?"

Despite Prussia's hand hook around his shoulders, Canada sighed in timid exasperation.

"His name is Canada, West. It really isn't that hard to remember. And besides, we are dating! Ha ha! That explains everything, ja?"

"Nein! I, I mean, no! It does not explain anything!" Germany grabbed Prussia's arm and freed Canada from that East German restraint. "I sincerely apologize for my brother. You may leave him now."

Canada looked nervously between the two Germans. "Um..."

"Ha ha! Good one, West, but Canada isn't going anywhere." Prussia flashed a confident grin. "Right, boyfriend?"

"Uh..."

"That is ridiculous! How can he be your boyfriend when you hardly know him! And more importantly..." Germany realized the foolishness of his tirade, and cut himself off. "Nothing."

"What? Did you have something to say to me?" Prussia pulled his arm out of Germany's grasp. "Go ahead. Say it. Is it 'cause Canada is a guy?"

"Of course not! You know as well as I do that same-gender partnerships are acceptable. It's because..." Germany's gaze shifted to the side. "I have nothing more to say."

"Ha ha! Tough guy West is speechless? That's great. Come on, Canada." Prussia held out his pale hand to the nation. "You want to be my boyfriend, right?"

"Well…" Canada really wanted to say no, but no one had ever paid him so much attention before. It was kind of nice to be valued so much by someone so, for lack of a better word, awesome. The soft-spoken country replied unsteadily, "I, I guess it's okay, I guess."

Germany groaned and palmed his face. "Ach du meine Güte..."

"See? Ha ha! Canada digs me. You can't blame him, though. I am just too awesome." Prussia clutched Canada's hand like a school girl.

Canada nearly jumped in his shoes. "Oh, um! Sorry, I'm a little sweaty..." Canada had to take his hand back and wipe it against the side of his pants. Not wanting to seem rude, though, he quickly grabbed Prussia's hand again, and blushed. "Sorry."

Prussia smirked. This was so easy. At this rate, he would win France's game all by himself.

The unfortunate Germany did not know what to make of any of this, especially the immature example that his crazy older brother seemed to suddenly be setting for him. Germany decided the best thing to do would be to look the other way and ignore Prussia for now, lest thoughts about Italy come back-

No! Stop that! Do not think about him right now, Germany. After all, he's not here right now. He has nothing to do with this, nothing at all. Calm down. Do not think about him.

"Romano, come back, ve~!" Italy skipped into the tent. "Oh, ciao, everyone!"

"I-Italy! G-Get out of here, at once!" Germany spun around and let his suppressed rage rain down on Italy. "You should not be here! Get out!"

The innocent Italian only pouted in response. "Ve..."

"Ha ha ha! Oh, come on, West!" Prussia turned his head sinisterly toward Canada. "If he leaves, he'll miss the best part."

"Was?" Germany quickly put his attention back on his brother. "What are you-?"

Prussia abruptly pulled the startled Canada's face into his own, and immediately Canada was as red as the maple leaf on his flag.

Through the sudden explosion of confused thoughts running around in his head, Germany vaguely heard Romano shout at Spain, "What the hell! I am not going to do that!"

Russia pat down with his hands on the rectangular plot of barren earth that he had created. "Game is ready, da?"

England did not answer, pretending to be too occupied with his mental powers.

America, however jumped at the chance for some action. "All right, let's go! Yalta conference, yeah... I totally know what Yalta is. Sort of. Yeah... Uh, hey, Japan!" He pulled his Asian friend closer. "What is this meeting all about anyway?"

Japan looked down while he spoke. "Eto, the Yalta Conference was the meeting between the Allies to discuss how to, eto, to, to discuss post-war plans." It seemed to him that America had forgotten about his earlier confession, so Japan felt a little better. But most of that was undone by the hostility between America and England, which drew America even closer to Japan.

Japan was worried about England, too, but that hardly mattered. Japan had quite enough to worry about.

"Ah, England, mon cher." France meandered over to the displaced British gentleman. "Did you not hear? It is time for us to play, again."

"Humph." England sat cross-legged on the grass and raised his nose to France. "N-No, I am quite busy here, thank you."

"How lazy, aru." If only to avoid Russia for a few more seconds, China also came to give England the sort of criticism that someone could mistakenly interpret as emotional support. "It is not fair to pin America's games on the rest of us while you sit here and daydream! So get up and man it out, aru!"

"... Or..." France drew closer to England. "I can sit here and be your sympathetic friend. Perhaps you would like to kiss again?"

"A-Absolutely not, you bloody frog!" England pushed himself up, nearly decking France in the process. "F-Fine, I will play! But, l-let's make this quick-"

America suddenly shot England a dull remark. "You don't have to play, England."

England stopped in surprise. "W-W-What? O-Oh, am I not good enough to play, now?"

"You're, you're busy with your stupid curse thing, aren't you?" America looked away, bored. "I don't care what you do."

"Well, if th-that's the case..." England folded his arms indignantly and pretended that he did not feel like he had just been punched in the gut. "W-Why not remove me from the island now, if I'm so unwanted!"

America shrugged. "... Okay. You can leave."

"W-W-What? ... R-Really?"

China growled. "How can you say such a thing, aru! America, you should let all of us leave, aru!"

Russia said nothing, but his was a happy silence.

The Frenchman's glorious grin darkened into a worried grimace. "Non, non!" France impulsively stepped in to intervene. "Mes amis, this is ridiculous! I insist that you make peace!" His plans had come too far to be ruined by some petty fight between these two! He could not have anyone leave yet.

"I, eto, I agree." Japan nodded his head politely, which contrasted with the shaking in his voice. "A-America-kun, p-please forgive England-kun."

"Forgive!" England shouted incredulously. "Forgive me for what? For slightly squishing a piece of paper?"

America frowned. "Dude, it was a crane."

"Oh, it was a crane? I already know that, git!"

"Please, England, mon cher! You must apologize." France begged with folded fingers before England, which the British gentleman found to be quite stupid and exaggerated. "After all, what is a silly piece of paper between brothers?"

"B-Brothers?" England soured, and his tone grew even more caustic. "W-Well, his little Declaration was just a silly piece of paper between brothers... And besides, I-"

"Oh! Is that what this is about?" France sighed in relief, and quickly reasserted his more manipulative view of the situation. He whispered quietly to his friend. "Ah, dear England, are you afraid that little America is going to shut you of his life again, just because he spends more time with Japan?"

Despite himself, England reeled back in surprise. "… N-No…?"

Yes! France had hit it home. His plans would succeed yet! "Come now, he would not possibly do such a thing, dear England! Little America needs a father figure in his life, non? You have nothing to worry about, mon cher." France smirked. "Unless, of course, that father figure was not supportive of him. If you did not approve of him in some way, if you do not give him any encouragement when he needs it most, well, that's another story. After all, no one needs an unsupportive father… Oh! But you always support him, non?"

"Belt the b-bloody hell up!" England impulsively clenched his fists and looked away from France, forcing himself for a second to be uninterested. But then, the British gentleman became more pensive and considered the validity of what his maybe-friend had just said.

America laughed. "Whatever France just said, it must have been really dirty! Look at the look on Iggy's face!"

China shook his head in disappointment. "England's face is long gone, aru."

"… Erm..." England glowered and mumbled to himself. "… … sorry…"

England was apologizing! France turned away to hide the victorious simper creeping into his features.

America also grinned, though his was more innocent. "Huh? What was that?"

"You, you heard me! I said it! I am not going to repeat myself! Barmy little wanker!" Keeping France's words in mind, England gulped down his pride and crossed the staggering distance of a couple meters to rigidly offer a handshake to America. "W-Well? Are you going to accept it?"

"Huh? Uh, wait, that's not really fair." America pushed the startled Japan in front of him. "You have to apologize to Japan!"

Japan wondered if he would get a fair say in this.

"All, all right. I agree." England nodded, with something like twitchy determination and kept his hand out. "A-Accept my apologies, J-Japan."

"H-Hai." Japan gingerly shook England's hand. "… Eto, you may let go now, England-kun."

"Wait a moment." The Englishman held on to Japan's hand. "Bef-fore I regain my senses, I want to tell you that, that I do not have any problems with you and America. You, you, you have..." He nearly choked on his own words. "You have my blessings! There, I said it!"

Japan's eyes widened so much that a glint of light almost reflected off his dark gaze. "A-Ano-!"

"Blessings? Japan isn't sneezing, man!" America pulled Japan back to his side and took England's hand for himself. "But it's all cool. Thanks." America tugged England in closer and hugged him.

"Ignoramus." Despite what he said, England felt a strange happiness, to be America's older brother again, or whatever the hell he was now to America. Whatever it was, it was certainly important, if that boisterous gleam behind the American's glasses could be trusted, and that was enough for England to be happy, even if he needed to share America with an Asian brother-in-law now.

France almost pointed out that after America finished the embrace, England was even smiling, but that would have ruined the moment. Japan also could have ruined it by correcting England's ludicrous assumption about the current state of affairs of American-Japanese relations, but wisely decided to be quietly embarrassed instead.

"How nice~" Russia interrupted their reconciliation with a haunting smile. "Now, stop talking, comrades! We play game now." He pointed at his flattened dirt stage.

"Ha ha!" America was never very good at following orders, or at reading the atmosphere. Therefore, he both forgot about England and defied Russia's command in a single moment. "What, are we playing with dirt now? We're not all poor like you, you know! What's next, playing word games in abandoned factories?"

England wasn't too offended about being ignored, because at least America was insulting Russia.

"Oh, you know of Dozor, comrade? Dozor is very popular code game in the motherland played in abandoned warehouses. However, this is not Dozor." Russia drew closer to the group. "In Yalta Conference, the Big Three dance around words to discuss the world after war. In this game, we dance to folk song."

"We?" England repeated in disgust. "You mean, the three of us, together?"

"Niet. Each member country picks a partner. I demonstrate, da?" Russia abruptly stood in front of China.

The Chinese man backpedalled. "Y-You said you would leave me alone, aru."

"I said I would be good boy for China." Russia bent down at the hip to stare directly into the other man's eyes. "So, I am good boy for China."

"Uh…? That's… Good?" China winced at his own choice of words. Did he just say good? This was not good! This was terrible!

"Bolʹshoĭ." Russia knelt on the dirty floor and held out his hand, his gentle smile growing. "You please dance with me?"

China knew he was done for when both America and France started laughing at him.

"S-Stop looking!" Germany stood in front of Italy and made him turn away from the scene in the bar. "I order you to leave at once! Verdammt, stop looking, Schwachkopf!"

However, Prussia countered this by making his kiss with Canada louder, producing strange groaning noises that made Italy curious as to what was going on, and made Romano want to vomit.

"Hör auf damit, East!" Germany grabbed Italy's ears and tried to close each one off with a palm, but that did nothing. "Italy, leave already!"

"Ve~ Germany?" Italy asked in casual confusion. "Why is Prussia choking that guy in the red sweater?"

"H-How can you be such an idiot!" Germany barked in amazed disappointment at his former charge. "He is not choking that, that nameless person, he is kissing him! But it has no significance and you should not be paying attention anyway!"

"No~" Italy shook his head somberly, even though Germany was still holding his ears. "I thought they were kissing, too, but look! That guy's face is really purple! It's like a big grape~!"

"That is not important! I… I... r-really?" Germany let go of Italy and turned around.

For once, Italy was right, because Prussia was getting so carried away in trying to embarrass Germany that he wasn't letting Canada get any air. Poor Canada nearly passed out, but he was simply too polite to pull away.

"Stop that!" Germany marched forward and forced Prussia back. "That is completely out of form!"

Canada took a deep breath in, but that didn't help his intense blush and foggy thoughts.

Prussia, not realizing that he was also out of breath, stumble backwards a little and laughed. "Ha ha! Woo~! How did you like that?"

"You clearly do not know how to kiss, East!" Germany barked at him like a drill sergeant on the topic. "You are not supposed to eat your partner's face off!"

"Oh?" Prussia raised his brow playfully. "Well, then, why don't you show me how it's done, Klugscheißer?"

Germany answered with a flat face. "No."

"Is that so?" Prussia let his eyes fall sideways, landing right on Spain and Romano.

Spain took the hint and hooked Romano close. "¿Listo, Romano?"

"N-no, no, no, no, tomato bastard!" Romano pushed the Spaniard away, and looked around desperately for an escape. "V-V-Veneziano! Come here!"

Italy skipped forward. "Ciao, Romano!"

"Italy, what did I just say!" Germany screeched at the top of his lungs. "Get out of here!"

"But France said I needed to get Romano!"

"France said that! Verdammt, Italy! How many times have I told you not to listen to France!"

"Quick, Romano, before they leave!" Spain tried to make Romano calm down by patting the air cheerfully. "It, I'm not so bad, right? And, remember what I said-"

"Lo so! Lo so! Imbarazzare la Germania, hai detto!" Romano crossed his arms. "Well, I know a better way to do it, tomato bastard!"

Spain sulked up a storm, though he kept his lips curved up. "Am I really so bad…?"

While Germany was considering what Romano had just said in Italian, Romano whipped out something brown and thrust it onto Germany's face. "Ha ha ha! How do you like that, potato bastard!" Romano pointed boastfully at the German. "You look so stupid, like one of your Kaisers in some British propaganda! You must be so humiliated!"

Prussia was apparently the only other person who found it funny enough to laugh at. Canada smiled timidly, since Prussia's odd sense of humor can be very contagious.

Germany only sighed. He knew what was on his face now. He did not have to check.

"Wow! Look, Germany~!" Italy jumped in amazement. "You grew a mustache really quickly!"

"Italy, Ich flehe Sie, Bitte, pay more attention..." Germany felt the fake mustache pasted to his upper lip and groaned. Everyone seemed out to annoy him today, and it was really getting to him. "Gott, how much more punishment are you going to give me?"

Just then, they heard screaming outside. Of all people, Russia peeked inside the tent and smiled patiently. "If anyone is born a German, God has sufficiently punished him already!"

"Méi b-bànfǎ! I d-decline, aru! I…" China gulped down his fear, set himself like an unmovable boulder on the ground, and rejected Russia's outstretched hand with crossed his arms. "I don't like touching, that's it! You said so in the bar! Uh, d-do your-remember that, aru?"

"Is that all?" Russia answered cheerfully. "Then there is no problem, comrade. I have gloves." He illustrated this point by pushing his hand closer to China.

"S-S-So? That does n-not help! My hands would still touch yours, and that's, that's indecent, aru!"

"Oh… Ponimayu." Russia beamed innocently and walked over to England.

England jerked back in surprise and trepidation. "W-What the bloody hell do you want from me?"

Russia wordlessly grabbed England's military jacket, reached into a pocket, and pulled out a pair of dull handcuffs. "Here they are~"

"Ha ha! Where'd you get those, England?" America poked him insistently. "Did you bring those with you? Well, I guess that's cool. They say that the British make the best policemen!"

"N-No, you twat, I didn't bring them! I took them off of Italy! You should remember, you were there!" England stared coldly at the large Russian. "And I-I feel so violated…"

"Hai, America-kun, Italy-kun wore those." Japan explained quietly. "China-kun made them and France-kun put them on Italy-kun."

Yes, France thought sarcastically, what a good idea that turned out to be.

Russia went back to China. "Would you wear this, comrade?"

"W-What? Y-You mean that chain, aru!" China recoiled in fear. "Absolutely not! Why sh-should I wear that, aru?"

"China does not like touching, da?" Russia calmly opened up the handcuffs. "With chain, I can dance with my comrade without touching him."

"What do you mean by-?"

Russia snapped one end of the chain onto his right wrist, and then clipped the other end onto China's right wrist.

"Aru!" A shock rattled the Chinese man. "B-But y-you s-said-"

"We are not touching." Russia answered kindly. "Now, we can dance, although, sadly, I will have to change the dance a little…"

"Ha ha ha! That's hilarious!" America slapped his knee in delight. "Look at China! He's stuck on Russia now! Oh, man, this is so awesome!"

"I think it is very sweet. Can you not see the romance?" France brought his hands together as if he were praying. "Ah, Russia cares so much for China that he denies himself even to hold hands, all to make China happy! Is it not adorable?"

England snorted. "It most certainly is not."

France smirked. He agreed with England, but he really wanted China to play along with this game for when Germany returned.

Japan, struck with a brilliant light of ingenuity, realized that maybe he could make a similar arrangement with America. He wormed a bit out of America's constant arm-over-the-shoulder hug to make an inquiry. "Eto, p-perhaps we should do something like that, America-kun?"

America focused his attention on Japan like a telescope. "Huh? Like what?"

Japan, surprised by the overly-keen and utterly hopeful spark in America's eyes, stuttered nervously. "Eto, eto, never mind…"

"Come, comrade!" Russia pulled his new chain buddy to the center of the dirt mat. "Do you know how to dance to Korobeiniki?"

"T-This is unbearable, aru!" China closed his tightly eyes at the humiliation and bodily risk that he associated with being attached to Russia, praying desperately that someone would save him.

"Eh, what's Koro-something-or-other?" America wondered aloud. "Uh, hey China, what's… Oh, you're busy. Eh, hey, Japan, what's-"

Japan gulped to clear his throat. "It, eto, it is a Russian folk song, America-kun. Y-You may know it as the theme song in Tetris."

"Tetris!" America grinned widely. "I love that game! We're going to play Tetris? I own at it!"

Japan bowed his head, trying to take America's ignorance with a good attitude. "Eto, they are going to dance to the folk song."

"Oh, I know how that goes. La, la la la, la la la…" America let go of Japan and started clapping his hands loudly. "Come on, Japan! You should totally clap with me!"

Japan shook his head furiously. "Īe wa anata ni kansha shinai-!"

"Like this!" America clapped abruptly in Japan's face.

"… Hai." Japan reluctantly obeyed, like a good soldier, and clapped softly along with America.

France clapped, too, smiling all the while, while England made a deliberate effort to frown as much as possible.

China glared at them venomously. "I hate all of you, aru!"

Russia, on the other hand, was delighted. "We have orchestra now." He moved his arms to the starting position of the dance, making sure not to touch China as he did so. "You are ready, comrade?"

"I never agreed to this, aru!"

"First, move back." Russia stepped forward, magically forcing China back. "Then move forward." Russia retreated, and tugged China with him. "Then repeat that a few times, jump, hop on the left foot, cross the right in front of it, jump, walk right, walk left, change places, repeat the last three steps, and start again. Simple, da?"

China scratched his head with his free hand. "Uh..."

"Da!" Russia clapped along with the other countries a couple of times before beginning his dance. He moved forward, backward, forward, backward, all in quick succession.

Dazzled, China could do little else but follow along, making sure not to stumble while trying to master the unfamiliar steps. China did not understand how Russia could be so graceful at this dance. The Russian was even flicking his wrists.

Suddenly, Russia jumped, so China did the same. Some more footwork, and on one move the Oriental man almost tripped, but Russia kept him strung up by holding his hand above China's head.

"Walk right." Russia suggested.

China, more concerned with executing the move than with the terrifying Russian, spun to the right and, on account of the handcuffs, Russia moved with him as though he were twirling the country himself. Without even thinking, China clapped and spun himself to the left, then changed places with Russia.

Russia's coat swept over the dirt mat as he passed China. "There is no clapping or twirling in Korobeiniki, comrade."

China's dark hair waved in the air with the movement of the switch as he threw his arm over his partner. He was so disoriented by the dance that he had the nerve to make a sarcastic comment. "It wouldn't be Russian if you didn't twirl like a yo-yo or clap like a cymbal monkey, aru!"

Russia smiled and yanked China to the side, trying to get him to walk. China defiantly spun around in circles, clapped his hands high enough so that Russia would not bump into him, and spun back around, switching places again.

They restarted the dance, with China redoubling his effort to make the dance stereotypically Russian while the former Soviet Union himself sought to keep it actually Russian, all while neither touched the other. The dust stirred around their feet as they walked backward and forward with increasing speed and precision. China almost made some mistakes but Russia always kept him from erring.

On the first pass in the third round, Russia added a twirl himself when they switched places. "Is this Russian, comrade?"

China smirked. "Yes, I guess this is going pretty fast for me, aru."

Russia pretended to twirl him to the right. "You misunderstand. I said 'Russian,' not 'rushing.'"

China spun back to the left. "A team of four horses cannot overtake what's been said, aru."

"Da?" A fan of obscure proverbs, Russia said nothing else and continued the dance.

While still striking his palms together for the song, America elbowed Japan in the side. "Hey, Japan! We should dance, too! It looks like so much fun!"

"U-Us? Dance to-together?" Japan tried very hard not to look away. "I, I, I cannot, America-kun!"

"Huh, why?"

"Because, eto, because if we stop clapping, then France will be the only one!" Japan nodded fervently to substantiate his argument. "One person c-cannot clap without sounding pathetic."

"Oh, is that it? Ah! I've got the solution! 'xcuse me, Japan!" America stopped clapping and reached into his bomber jacket. In order to do that, he had to reclaim his jacket from Japan. "We can just dance to this!" He proudly pulled out the music box that Japan had given him earlier. "Oh yeah, only the hero could come up with this!"

Japan ceased clapping. "The box that France gave me? Are you sure that is wise?"

"Yeah, I'm tired of this song, anyway. Let's hear what you gave me!" America opened the wooden box.

The Spanish melody flooded the clearing from within the Italian box, enrapturing everyone and drawing their attention away from the Tetris dance. France put his hands down. "Oh, America has that box that Germany gave me?"

The two nations on the stage came to a standstill. "Aru? How did that get there?" China remarked bitterly. "I gave it to Germany, aru!"

Russia brandished a bottle of vodka in his free hand. "That is the box that I gave China~"

"W-Well-" China flinched nervously, and hoped that he could get the handcuffs off quickly enough in an emergency.

"Italy gave box to me as gift on airplane. How nice~" Russia beamed. "The gift went around to everyone."

Except, England had never received the box. "What on earth are you all talking about?" He remembered that Germany has possessed it before, and that Italy had been very upset that Germany did not like it. That was back when the eight nations were still together.

"What's wrong, Iggy? No one has given you this box yet? Here, here, do you want it?" America tantalized him with the box. "Ha, really! Do you want it? Do you want it? Huh?"

England stared suspicious daggers at the wooden music box.

"Oh, come on, I'm just playing." America offered him the box. "Seriously, do you want it, 'cause if not, I'm keeping it."

"Ah-ha! That's it! That's it!" England shrieked. "I've found it! That music box is the source of the curse!"

"Are you still going on about that-?"

"Give me that box! I have to destroy it!" England leapt at it.

"Hell no, dude!" America pulled it away, and England fell clumsily to the ground. "This was a gift from Japan! I'm not letting you ruin another one, ha!"

"A-Another one?" The Brit rubbed the back of his head. "F-Fine, I, I will not destroy it. B-But that must be the cursed object!"

"I think you're just jealous about it! Here, you can have it." The American patriot picked his sort-of-brother up and gave him the box. "You can see for yourself how harmless it is."

England turned the thing over diagonally, sideways, and upside down, eager to convince himself that it was not him who had placed the curse, possibly in a drunken rage that he did not remember. On the bottom of the wooden box, he found something surprising written in English. It was surprising because it had his name on it. "J-Japan, did you see this?"

America, momentarily bored, found a hamburger in his jacket, which he had put back on. "See what?"

"Nothing, America. I purposely didn't ask you if you saw it, because I know there is no possible way that you of all people would notice something like this. Japan, did you write this on the bottom? Actually, maybe France wrote this."

Japan politely shook his head. "No, England-kun. Eto, what does this say?"

England held it up close for inspection. "It says, 'Welcome to the land of love, England~! We hope you enjoy your stay with us and eat plenty of pasta!' Hmm, that's rather odd. Whoever did this even wrote that squiggly line next to my name."

"Pa, Pasta?" Japan's eyes sparkled a little. "Oh, this must be a gift to you from Italy-kun."

"Oh, yeah! I remember that!" America mindlessly took Japan in a bear hug again. "That was some funny stuff! I think Italy was going to wait for you at his airport, but I tricked him into going to Russia! It's a good thing I did, because you never would have showed up!"

Japan focused on breathing, because he was feeling light-headed.

"For the love of God, America, I almost forgot that this is entirely your fault." England raised his nose. "And besides, there is no way that Italy made this as a present for me. That is just absurd. If he did, then why give it to Russia of all people! Russia! No, there is just no way. This must be a present from the spirits of this island! M-Maybe they are the fairies from this inter-dimensional land of love."

America sneered lightheartedly. "I'm pretty sure that 'land of love' bit was just referring to Italy."

"No, I'm sure of this! I was right all along! There are spirits here, and this box is proof of it. If so, then what cryptic puzzle of a message are they trying to communicate to me from the other side?" England paced about the clearing, deep in thought. "They are saying that they want me to stay here, yes, but they also say to eat pasta. That must be the secret to unlocking the curse!"

"What, being stupid enough to believe in magical fairies?"

"No, miserable wanker! We all need to eat pasta to be free of the curse!" England struck a valiant pose and crossed his arms at this epiphany. "There, I have just saved us all."

Japan took in an especially deep breath. "England-kun, if that were true, eto, then why was Germany-kun the only one who could escape?"

"Simple." England wagged his finger. "That muscle-bound freak must have eaten some pasta shortly before arriving here. I bet he ate some that Italy made for him." England closed the music box and set it next to his feet. "No one touches this magical box from my new spirit friends! I need to go make some pasta for everyone to eat!"

"P-Please, do not, England-kun."

"Japan's right, you suck at cooking. Let's just get our monkey to do it, if you want it so bad." America turned to the side. "Hey, France!"

France was cross-legged on the ground, drawing out his plans in the dirt. "Eh? Mon cher, are you suggesting that I am a monkey?"

"Yep! Go to the Axis camp and make us some pasta, monkey!" America had no reservations in calling him a monkey, which in his home meant a simple-minded servant.

France shrugged. In France, a monkey is someone who is tricky, and he could accept that description. "Très bien, mis amis. Should I make some for the Axis powers? Or Russia and China? They left while you three were talking, by the way. I assumed that none of you heard China shouting?"

"Whatever! Get cooking, French fry!" America heroically adjusted his glasses and directed France toward to the other side of the one-mile island.

France wiped his plans away and calmly strutted to the Axis camp. Even though he had seen Russia drag China away, he was not worried about the safety of the latter. Russia would never hurt China, right?

England rolled his eyes. "I suppose I should add some magic to the pasta, just to be safe. And anyway, France is clearing plotting something, so I should follow him..."

"No way! France would know we're on to him!" America didn't think that France was up to anything, but he wanted to play along. "And I'm not letting you near any food!"

"B-But what if I have to eat!"

"So, I'll send Japan in, instead!" America smiled down at his pet otaku. "Right, Japan?"

"Ano? Y-You want me to spy on France-kun?"

"Oh, you'd do that for me? Awesome! Here, you can take my jeep!" America childishly handed Japan the invisible wheel of an imaginary car. "It'll be like an adventure! Vroom vroom!"

Japan resisted face-palming, yet again.

"America! Must you be so immature?" England gave Japan a pat on the back and sent him on his way. "Go on, then, Japan. Can't let a Frenchman go unsupervised!"

"H-H-Hai." Japan scampered after France, internally conflicted between running like a soldier and driving a make-believe car like an idiot.

America watched his friend go, grinning madly. "Japan is so cool."

"I guess." England glanced sideways at America. "So, when are you going to put the moves on him?"

"Greetings, comrades." Russia spoke with his body halfway through the tent opening. "I come to bring Germany and Italy back so I can finish my dance with China."

"Not yet, give Spain a second!" Prussia moved to stop Russia. "You can't take West until Spain gets his chance."

Russia leaned sinisterly forward. "Are you trying to stop me again, East Germany?"

"H-Hey, the, the awesome me doesn't live in your house anymore! So, call me P-Prussia, ja?" Prussia worked up a laugh.

Russia and Germany cooperated more often than not nowadays. Ever since reunification, they realized that they could depend on each other for energy. Specifically, Russia supplies energy while Germany builds the infrastructure that Russia needs to supply it. So, economically, the strategic partnership works out well, but unfortunately, political issues never seem to go away.

China poked his head into the tent, right next to Russia. "P-Please hurry. I can't stand this much longer, aru!"

"Ha ha, China!" Prussia blurted in surprise. "Why are you so close to Russia!"

The Chinese man bowed his head in shame and produced his right wrist, which was still shackled to the Russian's. Prussia would have most certainly approved of handcuffs under different situations, but this seemed like little more than a way to terrorize China.

"China does not like touching." Russia explained it in a such a way that made it sound like a nice gesture. "This way, we are together but do not touch."

"Ja! Gut. Okay, if you say so!" Prussia stifled a mocking laugh. Why was Russia so concerned about what China liked? And China did not look very happy about it, anyway. "That sounds stupid, but that's not surprise, since it's coming out of you! Ha ha!"

The Russian soldier looked off to the side distractedly. "Careful with what you say, comrade. A team of four horses cannot overtake what's been said, da?"

"A-Aru?" China looked at Russia with curiosity and confusion, but Russia, as usual, only smiled. It seemed to Prussia that Russia was putting way too much effort into warming up to China, and Prussia wasn't sure he was happy about that.

It didn't really matter, though, as long as Prussia could keep the two at the door.

"Germany, I apologize for Romano. Ha, you know how he is." Spain scratched the back of his neck and chuckled lightly. "In, in fact, I was just trying to ask him something muy, muy importante."

Germany nodded. "Fine. Italy and I will be on our way."

"Oh, no! Please, wait for us. This shouldn't take long!" Spain ushered Romano closer, and lowered his voice. "Are you ready, Romano?"

"I told you, tomato bastard! I'm not going to do that with you!" Romano kicked the wooden floor. "I already did my job using my mustache weapon! Look at that sorry look on Germany's face!"

"I... I don't think that is humiliation, Romano. Trust me. Trust Boss Spain on this one!"

"Do whatever you want, but I won't kiss you, pedo!"

"Pedo? Are you calling me a fart? Uh, no importa. I still have to embarrass Germany, though, so I promise this will be quick, ¿de acuerdo?"

When Romano humphed, Spain took it as a yes. It was just in time, because Germany was just about to usher Italy out of the building.

"¡Romano!" Spain shouted.

"W-What!" Romano flinched back in shock. Italy, and then Germany, looked over, as did the three by the entrance.

Spain knelt down on the ground and held Romano's hand in his own. The passionate Spaniard locked eyes with his former charge, and let his soul pour out into his words. "Te amo!"

In Spanish, when you want to tell a family member or another loved one that you love him or her, you might say, 'te quiero.' However, when you want to express deep, romantic love to someone, you might say, 'te amo,' which is not commonly heard. Unlike America's mistake with Japan earlier, Spain knew fully well what he was saying.

Romano stopped dead cold.

Germany also froze. This was absolutely impossible…!

"Ve~" Italy swayed his head back and forth.

Prussia was so amused that he laughed boisterously. China found it very laughable as well, but Russia's presence made this Western idiocy remarkably less funny.

Canada sulked at the bar. "And once again, they forgot about me."

"Put the moves on who, Iggy?" America picked up the music box and twirled it on his finger like a basketball. "You mean, Japan?"

"Yes, you know bloody well who I mean." England stood straighter and haughtily dusted off his jacket, feigning disinterest in the topic. "You have, ahem, adult interests in Japan, I understand. So, I'm asking you, when are you going to do something about it?"

America stared at England very hard, trying to find meaning in the foreign mix of words that he had picked. Then, America laughed out loud and tried to determine if England was serious or not. "Ha ha! Are you kidding?"

"Of, of course not. As your older brother, I should care about your interests-!"

"No, no, wait, ha ha! Ar-oh-ef-el!" America clapped England on the back. "Dude, seriously! You think I'm gay for Japan?"

"You're n-not?" England was stunned. "B-But the way you cling to him, a-and…!"

"It's all in your head, man. Japan is my super awesome kickass friend, sure, but that's all."

"N-No, that can't be!" England snatched the wooden box off of America's finger. "And especially I'm sure of it, because the fairies have sent me this message."

"What, make pasta?"

"Do you lack even a basic level of intelligence? The message is from the mystical spirits of this island, which they call the land of love. I am positively convinced that those spirits cast a spell on you so that you would fall in love with Japan, and vice versa!"

"Do you know how retarded you sound right now?"

"Wanker!" England lifted the box and smacked America with it in the back of the head.

"Ow, cut that out!" America kneaded it in dismay. "You people keep finding ways to hit me! You know, I put a lot of effort into making sure you guys didn't bring weapons! I made sure China didn't bring a wok, but then he picks up a frying pan at the camp. I didn't let Russia bring a faucet pipe, so he uses a Molotov cocktail..."

"Don't change the subject, yank! I know that you're in love with Japan!" England waved the box around menacingly. "And I know that he's in love with you, so stop being such a child about it."

"He, he's in love with me?" America stuck his finger in his chest, wearing the most adorably unaware expression on his face.

"Yes! Obviously! Why must you be so ignorant! Man alive, you must inherit your wit from France..." England massaged his temples. "Don't you remember how Japan was blushing? How he gave you those gifts? How he could barely say a word? My point is that the magical beings of this world have decided to have you two fall in love, and their judgement seems, at least, relatively fair."

"You're not really good at talking about this sort of thing, are you?"

"Nonsense! Unlike you, I am fully aware of it. In fact..." England snapped his fingers. "Yes, I remember that! A picture appeared in the sky of you and Japan together! That must have been another message from the magical pixies!"

"No, that was just a thank-you from me." America shrugged with a smile.

"And, what were you thanking him for?"

"Well..." America looked down to remember. "… He said that I am awesome."

"Right! And no one would normally do that in his right mind! Therefore, this must be the work of the magic on the island. Or, I suppose, if he already liked you before we came here, then that would work as well. In any event..." England dropped the music box carefully on the ground. "… I want you to be happy… And you should be a proper gentleman and act accordingly on your feelings."

"Dude, that sounds so gay."

"Fine, it's gay! So what? Your happiness is more important." What England meant was that his role as a bigger brother was more important, but it sounded nicer this way.

"Oh, I dunno… Only certain parts of me are okay with gay stuff." America checked his body parts, as if those would speak to him. "I know California is cool with it, and New York has this whole thing going on about it. But, you know what? If Japan likes me, and he thinks it's cool…" America puffed out his chest and saluted himself. "I can do it. I can do anything, because I'm the hero!"

"Do what, exactly?"

"Oh, uh, beats me… What am I supposed to do?" America dropped his salute and looked at England. "What would you do?"

"Why, I would be a proper Englishman, of course, and sweep her, or, in this case, him, off of his feet!"

"Awesome!" America beamed hopefully. "Say, can you show me how to do that?"

"Oh, absolutely! I would be honored." England grinned victoriously and put his hands on his hips. "By my word, I will gladly turn you into an absolutely invincible British gentleman!"

"Ha, I guess that would automatically make me gay, wouldn't it?"

Bye!