Another two weeks, another chapter! I remember when these things used to come out every week... or sooner... Darn it. Stupid homework x.x

Sorry it came late! I will work harder on this when I get the chance! And "when I get the chance" will explained in the endnotes. Because depression isn't allowed to hit until you finish the chapter. Yup. :3

"Come to think of it," Portugal muttered, "where did I leave the twins…?"

Her roommate Monaco shuddered. "You should go look for them before they bring the whole house down."

"Pshaw, they wouldn't hurt a fly! What is there to worry about?"

…

A lot, actually.

"U-um," said Seychelles, eyeing the paintball guns nervously, "maybe we should get out of here…"

"Ve!" Italy agreed, hiding behind England.

"Nay, you must win them over with amour!" said France, giving Seychelles one final grope before approaching the boys. "Hola, or whatever language it is that you guys speak! Big Brother France wants to—"

He was promptly hit smack between the eyes and fell over unconscious.

One of the boys turned to the other. "Hurra, matamos o aborrecimento."

"Bem feito, Paulo! Agora procurar nosso irmão."

"Mas espere...Porque não se divertir com esses idiotas?"

The other boy grinned. "Você tem um ponto."

They turned to the other nations, an evil look in their eyes.

"Um," Paraguay piped up, "I think that's the signal for us to run."

Spain cracked open an eye. Something felt off somehow. He shifted slightly and realized there was someone else in his bed with him. "Lovinito," he muttered drowsily, smiling to himself, then went back to sleep.

Wait, what?

His eyes snapped open. That wasn't Lovi! The smell was all wrong! And the arms were gripping him too tightly! Carefully, he backed away to get a better look at his companion.

It was Belarus.

"Mm… brother… brother, let's get married…" she mumbled, snuggling against the Spaniard.

Spain barely managed to stifle a gasp. Holy hell, how had she gotten in here? She must've mistaken him for Russia…

…Dios, he was sleeping in the same bed as Belarus! Belarus! Oh GOD! He was still reeling in shock when the lights suddenly blinked on and a huge shadow fell over him. "My, my," said Russia, in an artificially sweet voice that made Spain shudder, "I didn't know you loved my sister so much, Spain~."

Mexico moved the terrier three steps forward. "Um," he said, "what do I do now?"

"It says 'Jail', you idiot," Honduras replied. "Obviously you just landed yourself in jail. Tough luck."

"What? That's not fair! How the hell is that possible? I didn't even do anything…"

"Guys," Uruguay pointed out, "there's a little alley to the side that says, 'Just Visiting'…"

"Well, of course you'd go to jail," Guatemala cut in, ignoring him. "This is what happens to bad boys who run around causing chaos wherever they go."

"Y-you're just making things up! I don't believe you! I'm not in jail! I'm not!"

"Yes you are!" said Honduras.

"Well, whatever," said Peru, picking up the dice. He landed the hat on another square. "'Go to Jail.' Huh."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Chile cried. "That's my piece! Yours is the car, remember?"

"No."

"Yes you do! Liar!"

"Is that so." Peru moved the hat to the Jail square. "Oh, hey, you're right~! Well, you can have my turn, and then after this round we'll switch back~~"

Chile glowered at him. Then he counted the number of squares it would take to get Peru's piece to the "Go to Jail" box.

"Please, can we stop fighting…" said Costa Rica.

"It's okay," said Argentina. "Boys will be boys."

"Damn it!" Ecuador muttered as he stopped the wheelbarrow on Boardwalk. Columbia smirked.

Chile cupped his hands around the dice. "Please give me a seven… please give me a seven…" he chanted as he shook them. "Please—let it—be—a—" He threw them on the board. "Seven!"

It was an eight.

"Noooooooo! Damn you!" he wailed. Then he noticed where the car had landed. "And this is your own property too! You don't even have to pay anyone! How lucky can you get?"

"Actually," said Peru, "it's your piece for this turn."

Chile blinked. "So?"

"So," he continued, "if that's your piece on my land…" He cleared his throat.

"HAHAHAHA!" Bolivia clapped her hands. "Well-played, Huayna! Ahahahahahaha!"

Chile scowled. "I hate you," he muttered as he counted out the bills. "I really hate you."

Venezuela patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"You know," said Guatemala, as Honduras and Mexico continued wrestling the terrier back and forth in and out of the "Jail" box, "this game is kind of fun. We should borrow it from America more often."

A dark look crossed Chile's face. "I hate Monopoly."

Hungary cried out as a paintball sailed past her, grazing her sleeve. "Hey, watch it! I just had this washed!" she said indignantly. The twins giggled and raised the guns to her face.

"You think you have it tough," muttered England, who was now sporting a giant dark splotch on the left side of his chest. "What about the person it didn't miss…?"

"Veeeeeee! Help me!" Italy screamed as he took off, flailing his arms about like a headless chicken. "Doitsuuuuuuuu!"

One of the boys fired a paintball at his feet. A moment later Italy found himself slipping on sticky green paint. "Waaaah! Help! Please don't hurt me I surrender oh please spare me I have relatives in whatever country you guys are from oh gosh don't shoot—" He crashed into Sealand and the two tumbled into a rosebush.

Paraguay whipped out his cell phone. "Pedro! Pedro, ya gotta help me! We're outside with a pair of psychotic little twerps shooting paintballs at us! Pedroooooooo—"

Uruguay hung up.

"Who was that?" said Argentina.

"…Wrong number," Uruguay mumbled. "Yeah. Wrong number."

Paraguay stared at his phone. "What? Pedro, you can't do this to me! I've been betrayed! PEDROOOOOOOOOOO!" He sank to his knees, tilting his head to the sky in anguish. "Why, Pedro? Whyyyyyyyyy?" He keeled over as a paintball nailed his vital regions. "Pe…dro…"

Switzerland reached for his own (non-paintball) gun, then realized he'd left it in his room. "Damn it!" He dove behind a random leafless tree as the twins turned their attention to him.

Except it wasn't a tree, it was Cuba.

"Oh great, way to go," the Caribbean nation grumbled. "I almost had them fooled!" He took off before the paintballs could get him.

Switzerland would've apologized, but he was too busy finding a hiding spot to care.

Prussia had dropped to the ground and was pretending to be dead. France, meanwhile, had revived. "Watch out!" he called to Seychelles, leaping to intercept a paintball headed straight for her. Unfortunately, he missed, and it hit her anyway. "W-well, thanks, I guess," she stammered as France suddenly grabbed her, sobbing.

"My beautiful Seychelles! Your face! Mon dieu! Je suis désolé, c'est ma faute, si j'avais été plus rapide—"

That was when England knocked him out with a blow to the neck. "Shut up and stop molesting her," he said. "Seychelles, are you okay?"

"Um… sure…" said Seychelles.

"Veeeeeeee! Nii-chan! Help! It hurts! It huuuuuuuurts! Heeeeeelp!" cried Italy. When no one responded, he stuck his head out of the bush. Sealand shrieked as the thorns dug into his skin. "Nii-chan?"

…

"Spain… Spain… save me… damn it…"

Romano stumbled slowly through the hall, leaving a wake of multicolored paint. He'd miraculously survived the dash to the door and made it inside. Now to hide under the bed until the screams outside stopped! But wait… should he? After all, those idiots outside sounded so… helpless. And Veneziano was there too, damn it. N-not that he was doing anything for his brother! He was just fed up with the noise! Yeah! He was just heading for the stairs when a pair of arms came out of nowhere and pulled him into a closet. "CHIGIIIIIII!" he cried. "Rape! Rape! Spaaaaaaain! Help—"

"Shh! Romano-kun, it's just me!"

Romano gaped. "J-Japan?"

The black-haired man nodded. "Sorry to grab you so roughly. I'm hiding from Greece-san and Turkey-san right now. What happened to you? Why are you covered in paint?"

Romano was about to answer when the closet door suddenly opened. Japan gasped and tried to make himself as small as possible. Romano froze as a familiar head stuck itself inside.

"Hmm? Who's… there?" said Greece. His eyes fell on Romano. "Oh, hi R—" Then he spotted Japan. His eyes widened in shock. Japan. And Romano. Together in a closet.

By themselves.

He blushed. "S-sorry… did I… come in at… a bad moment?"

"Hmm," said Sweden, "if I do th's, mayb' I c'n move f'rward a littl'…" He wriggled like a worm to demonstrate. Seborga cheered as the Swede scooted forward about an inch.

"That's terrific! Do you think you could push me along like that? We're just a few feet away from a main shaft, it'll just take a little bit of effort and then we'll be free! I have to go to the bathroom…" He smiled weakly.

Sweden sighed. "It's n't g'nna be easy. But h're goes."

"Hey, do you hear something?" said Venezuela. Right on cue, there was a muffled yell and a thump.

Uruguay moved his thimble past the "Go" square. "Nope."

The rustling of leaves. A scream.

"Then what was that just now?"

"It's simple, really," Peru replied, rolling the dice. "The house must be haunted."

Another scream.

"…Really."

A clunk.

"Yup."

That was when Turkey suddenly appeared, clad in a white bathrobe and bunny slippers, with his mask still on. "Hey guys, have you seen a young man, about this tall, black hair, brown eyes, acts kind of ambiguous all the time?"

The Latin Americans stared at him.

"Oh look, it's a ghost," said Uruguay. "Maybe if we ignore it it'll go away."

"What the hell, you guys!"

"Do you think they'll find us here?" Iceland hissed, peering out through the leaves.

"Hopefully not," Norway replied. "I think we're safe." They were hiding behind some hedges, well out of the twins' line of fire. Norway was picking at the paint on his thigh as it dried and peeled off in little bits. "I hope this stuff comes out in the wash…"

They were startled by a sudden movement beside them. A moment later, a young man popped his head out of the hedge. "Oh my god, I'm saved!" he cried, trying to give them a hug. Iceland and Norway quickly backed away. "I've been chased by those two since the afternoon! Thank goodness you're here!"

Iceland leaned over. "Who is this jerk anyway?" he whispered to Norway.

"I think it's Brazil," Norway whispered back.

"Wait, did he just say they're after him?"

"I think so."

"Then this is his fault, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's all his fault."

They turned to Brazil, mild hostility flashing in their eyes.

"Well, I guess it can't be helped."

"Nope."

"Let's do this."

"Mm-hmm."

Brazil looked from Norway to Iceland and back again. "U-um… hi?" He gulped. "You're not going to help me, are you…"

"Yes! We're free!" cried Seborga. "Thank you so much, Sweden! You're wonderful! I'll be sure to treat you to gelato when we get out of here!"

"Mm…" Sweden panted. Who knew that Italian was so darn heavy? "Let's j'st get out 'f here f'rst."

"Yes sir!" Seborga led the way through the wider duct. "I know the way out! Haha, isn't it fortunate that I'm good with directions? I'll get us there in a WHOOOOAAAAA!" Suddenly the metal beneath him gave way, and he plumeted through the hole into the space below. There was a grunt of impact a moment later. "Oops! Sor—"

Then the hole widened and Sweden fell too.

…

"Now then," said Russia, smiling coquettishly, "you're not doing anything perverted to Belarus, are you? She may be a crazy homicidal maniac, but she's still my sister after all~."

Spain gulped. He was trapped between a Russia and a hard wall, with no way to escape. (Holy shizz, where had that water pipe come from?) "B-but I'm telling you," he said, "I just woke up and found her there! I didn't do anything!" Slowly he felt around for something, anything, that he could use in defense. All he found was a windowsill and some dusty blinds. "Um…"

Russia fiddled idly with the water pipe. "I'm sorry, Spain, but I don't really believe you da." Spain shuddered at his sadistic grin. "You know what this means~~"

That was when a random guy suddenly crashed through the ceiling and landed on Russia.

Spain gaped. Then he beamed. "Yes! God must still love me after all!" He looked up. "Dios, thank you for saving me~! If I am forgiven for all my sins, please send a sign from above—"

The rest of his sentence ended in a strangled gasp as Sweden fell on him.

"Whoops," he mumbled. "S'ry 'bout that, Spain."

I am not doing OC bios this time. But I just want to point out that Uruguay's name is Pedro and Paraguay's is Teodoro (Teo for short). So, in terms of human names, their "with P, without P" thing is reversed. XD

Oh, and apparently it's pronounced "your-uh-gwye." I hate eye rhymes.

This fic is officially on hiatus while I study for exams. It will continue afterwards, in mid-May/early June. Sorry for the inconvenience and thanks for putting up with me! :D