A/N: Note on my portrayal of Prussia in this fic: I understand it's a stretch in a lot of people's minds to call him abusive. However, he is extremely callous and careless in his treatment of other people, and this story is written from the perspective of Prussia's worst enemy and a victim of his callousness. From other perspectives, Prussia is merely a trickster; I write that too.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled story.

Vienna, December 2009

The twentieth anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall had come and gone. Hungary's life was almost back to normal-though when in her life it had been normal before, she couldn't say. She saw Austria regularly, Italy a little less regularly, and Prussia almost never; she had joined the European Union, but kept her own currency, and was looking forward to a turn at the presidency; and her domestic politics were the stablest they'd been in fifty years.

Dana had returned to Germany, married, divorced, and come back at the respectable age of fifty to work for Hungary. And life went on as it always had; and, Dana and Hungary were both sure, always would.

Always, that is, until the day Hungary got to Vienna too late to protect her friend and neighbor from a French frontal assault. She saw what was happening, and her instinct was to rush in and stop it-but then she looked again, and realized she enjoyed what she was watching.

France was being his normal perverted self, and doing unspeakable things to Austria-what was different about this, that her body was reacting to it? She shrugged off the question, reached behind her back, and found a camera in her hand instead of a frying pan. She snapped a couple of pictures, then realized what she was doing, took out her frying pan, and knocked France senseless.
Austria was shaking as he thanked her for saving him; he didn't notice that Hungary was trembling too.

What had she discovered?

The first person she told was Dana, as soon as she got back to Budapest. Seeing the pictures, Dana shook her head. "Men don't get enough out of us, they have to fuck each other too?" Hungary knew where Dana was coming from. She also knew she should be mad as hell at France, and at herself for not stopping him sooner. But she wasn't. She wanted more of whatever it was that she had found. Then she realized that there was another Nation who could help her.

Tokyo

Japan insisted on serving tea, and making a production out of it. Hungary sat on her cushion and resisted the urge to drum her fingers on the table. When he was done with his ritual, she told him her story, and he listened with infuriating patience. But he did finally give her an answer.
"My people call it yaoi, or Boys Love," he explained. "It is modestly popular here, mostly among young women—but of course you understand it, as it is an export of yours." He was right. And now that Hungary thought about it, he was probably a fan.

Another long silence followed, during which a human girl, about twenty years old, came in briefly to clear the table.

"One does, of course, realize," said Japan after a while, "that an interest in Boys Love is valuable to understanding politics as it is conducted between Nations." Hungary took her time puzzling out what he meant. Yes, sex was important to their politics; who a Nation slept with strongly implied who his allies were (with the exception of Sweden, who was stubbornly monogamous, and Hungary herself), but that couldn't be everything Japan meant. He was implying...

He was implying that Hungary's new fascination with yaoi could lead to her gaining serious political power-to predict alliances, and measure their strength, in addition to blackmail, which seemed to be second nature to her government.

"Yes," she said. "It can be priceless. But I'm sure I can't discover the best uses for this knowledge on my own." She was doing her best to sound Japanese. Please let him get it...

He bowed slightly without getting up. "Consider me your ally in the pursuit of knowledge, Hungary-san."

Hungary bowed back, a little awkwardly, then grinned as an idea hit her. "Does this include facts with which you are, ah, personally acquainted?"

Japan's smile disappeared—he was startled—then he collected himself and replied, "It would only be fair, if my…allies do not object." Hungary's grin widened.

The girl skittered back into the room, bowed, and knelt at the table. "This is my Escort, Toyoda Yamanada-chan," Japan said. "I trust you are familiar with the concept." Hungary was, though she had never yet met an Escort, despite the program having been in place for at least ten years; for those ten years she'd kept mostly to herself, and she and Austria had escorted each other to state events.

Japan continued. "She has agreed to act as liaison between us, to ensure the sharing of our knowledge. I will send her to you in the spring, to begin our work."

Hungary left Japan's House feeling much better than she had arriving. By the time she got home, her grin was more cheerful than devious.

"I've got a job for you," she said to Dana as soon as they saw each other.

"What's that?"

"Yaoi collection. And don't worry—you'll have an assistant starting in the spring." She strode on into the kitchen, leaving Dana bemused. (There's only so far that humans can understand Nations.)