Hi.

It's... it's been a while. A long while. I moved across the country and started university and all that. But I still managed to find time to work on my fics (read: I'm goofing off instead of studying or doing homework)! So I hope you enjoy this next chapter as well, and... I really should go have breakfast now. It's past noon. Happy reading!

"Ahhhhhh…" Brazil sighed, "I survived getting chewed out by Mãe… I survived…" Still in a sleepy daze, he got out of bed and lumbered to the bathroom, only to find the door locked. He sighed again and was about to return to bed to wait when a voice from inside suddenly caught his attention.

"I know, right? I was like, 'Whaaaat?' when I first heard it too! But apparently it's true…"

His eye twitched in annoyance. "Teo? Is that you?" he said, knocking on the door. "Are you on the phone?"

"Ah, hang on, João just woke up," he heard Paraguay say, before continuing in a louder voice, "Yeah, it's me! Hey, how're you feeling? Ma'am Portugal wasn't too harsh on you, was she? To be precise—"

"Goddamnit, I'm asking you a question! What the hell are you doing talking on the phone in the bathroom?"

"Ehhh… yes, I'll be out in a little bit, don't worry~!" There was a pause. "Now, as I was saying, Pedro…"

"What the hell's wrong with you?" He banged harder on the door. "Don't do unnecessary things in there! You're sharing it with someone, you know!"

"Ah, really? Yeah, you wouldn't suspect he'd actually be hot for little boys too, not with all those girlfriends he's had over the years… sometimes I worry for… Haaaaaahhhh? No way!"

Brazil slumped against the door in exasperation. "This jerk…"

When Singapore woke up, it was dark in the room. Thinking it was still early, he rolled over to grab his watch from the bedside table. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw that it was already ten.

Wait, what?

The next moment, Japan found himself being shaken awake by his panicking roommate. "Kiku, it's bad! The sun didn't rise today! Shit, we're gonna die! Is the end of world!"

"Whuh… what? Who?" Japan blinked blearily. "Victor?"

"Ya, is me, bodoh! Wake up, we might all be in danger right now! Come on!" He tried to pull Japan out of bed. The two fell in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Why… why's it so dark…?" Slowly, Japan got up and shuffled across the room to the window. He drew the curtains—and Singapore could only stare in dumbfounded astonishment as sunlight flooded into the room.

"Ah, I think we solved our… problem," said Japan with a yawn. "Don't worry, Victor, the end of the world wouldn't come that easily…"

Singapore giggled awkwardly. "R-right. I knew that… I-I was just joking around la…"

"Mhm."

"Doitsu! I brought you coffee!" Italy announced as he bounded into the room. "Nii-chan almost drank it, but I saved it just in time! Ve, let's have breakfast together!" He headed for Germany, only to have his friend whirl around and bark orders at him.

"Feli! Stop right there!"

Italy froze. "Ve—! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" He continued blubbering while Germany walked up to him (taking a roundabout route around the table instead of straight for him). "Ve… what'd I do anyway?"

Germany patted his head. "Nothing. You were about to crash into someone, that's all."

"Ve…?"

Italy stared in front of him in confusion. The only people he could see were Gilbert and that strange blond person that showed up from time to time (and here Canada glowered at him upon sensing what he was thinking), but they were still a distance away from him. He was about to ask Germany when a voice said, "Dude, I'm here."

While Germany restrained a freaked-out Italy, Canada followed the sound to his brother, a marker in his hand. "Sorry, Alfred," he said, popping the cap off. "Maybe we'll be able to find you more easily if I put some kind of mark on you." He reached out a hand to feel for America's face.

America gulped. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?…" Nonetheless, he held still and let Canada scribble on him. "Well? Does it work?" he said as the latter pulled back with a look of satisfaction. Prussia and Germany could only stare speechlessly. "Hey."

"Um," said Prussia, trembling with the effort of trying not to laugh, "i-it… works, alright…"

Germany averted his gaze.

"Ve… it's…" Italy blinked, for once not quite sure of what to say.

"What? What is it?" America's eyes narrowed. "All right, Mattie, what'd you do?"

The American had two thick black rings drawn around his eyes and a handlebar moustache above his lip. On his chin, Canada had scrawled a few lines to indicate a goatee. "…You drew something stupid on me, didn't you." He touched his face. "Is this permanent marker? It better not be… Mattie? Hey, Mattie!" But Canada was staring at him with a strange look in his eye. If America didn't know better he would almost say it was… mischief? Sadism? But that wasn't right… Matthew wasn't that sort of person…

Finally, Prussia couldn't hold it in anymore. "BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" he chortled, slapping Canada on the back. "Very nice, Mattie! Hahahahahaha!" Germany facepalmed. Italy cocked his head perplexedly.

Canada smiled. "Fufufufufufu…"

"More porridge, Tino?"

"Ah, y-yes please."

"And you, Berwald?"

"No thanks, 'm full."

"Emil?"

"Just a little bit…"

Norway collected their bowls and went to the stove, sidestepping the mess of silverware on the floor.

"Do you want bread with that?" he asked as he ladled porridge from the pot.

"Oh, o-okay…" said Finland.

"I'll have a slice too," said Iceland.

"All right." A few moments later, he returned to the table with their food.

"Th-thank you, Lukas…"

"Yeah, what Tino said."

Silence fell in the room.

"Um, Lukas, c-could you pass me a knife?"

Without batting an eye, Norway wrenched out one of the knives embedded in the table and handed it to Finland.

"Ah… ahaha… th-thanks…"

"Mm."

Another moment of silence.

"U-um, Lukas…"

"Yes?"

"Wh-what are you g-going to do about… um…"

Finland glanced toward the corner of the room, where Denmark was still lying incapacitated. A dark look crossed Norway's face.

"…Something."

"Oh. O-okay then…"

More silence.

"L-Lukas?"

"What?"

"Y-you're not going to—"

"No."

"Don't be stupid, Tino, there's like zero privacy here, who the hell would—"

A dangerous look flashed in Norway's eyes.

"Gah! Wh-what? I was g-gonna say kill! Not—"

Norway stood up.

"Ohyaaaaaaa!"

"…Oh crap."

Sweden took this as the cue to grab his wife and disappear. "N-noooo! Emil! D-don't die!" Finland cried as he was dragged kicking and screaming out of the room.

Norway sat back down. Iceland gulped. "Um… N-Nore, you know I was just kidding around, I d-didn't really mean…"

The Norwegian sent him an icy glare. "Really."

Iceland flinched when his brother rose from his seat. "O-ohhhhh crud, oh crud, oh crud oh crud oh crud oh—AAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"Eh? What's that? He's—oh, that's not good. B-but don't worry, at least he didn't hear you, right?" Paraguay's phone beeped. "Oops, hang on, got another call coming in." He pushed a button. "Hey, it's Paraguay, with the P, as in philosophy—"

"Teo, get the fuck out of the bathroom now or I'll—"

"Oh, heeyyyyyy João! Hey, what're you doing calling me when you're right outside the—"

"If you're not using the bathroom, let someone else use it, gosh!"

"But I am using it… see, I'm talking to Pedro and he's—"

"Don't make me go in there, Teo!"

"Wha—I thought you wanted to get in the bathroom! I'm confused! Are you or are you not going to use the—"

"You have precisely ten seconds to get out of there or I'll break down the damn door and drag you out of there."

"…Oh."

"…Yes. Starting now."

"…João, are you mad at me?"

"What do you think, fool."

"Wah, don't be mad! I-I'll hurry! I'll hurry!"

"You better." Brazil jabbed the End Call button and sat down in front of the door. "I'm watching you, Teo."

"You're what? You perrrrrrrvert!"

Brazil facepalmed. "Just—just get out of there." He sighed. "How that idiot managed to survive all these years on his own, I'll never know…"

"Look, it's another useless segment!" said Belgium. "I always thought my debut would… h-have more purpose…"

"Don't worry," Netherlands reassured her. "The author's only been writing about those crazy nations who've had weird things happen to them. It means we're the only sane ones."

"…But she just wrote about us."

"…What?"

"She did. Look. Our conversation's being recorded right now, see?"

"…"

"Aw, don't cry, brother…"

Under normal circumstances, England would've just said, "Well, screw this" and gone on like nothing had happened. But they were all living together in one house and things weren't so easy to hide anymore… and what went around would probably come around… tenfold. So England, with a heavy sigh (and a tranquilizer gun in case things got out of hand), set out to find that unlucky bastard who had ended up on the receiving end of his spell.

(Meanwhile, America was getting rainbows and unicorns painted on his forehead.)

After getting chased away by a half-dressed Morocco, he was starting to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. But no; he had to persevere! Somewhere out there was a poor hapless nation with three arms, or a hairy Hitler moustache, or Nyan cat where his face was supposed to be… he couldn't just let them continue suffering like that! (And anyway, it was Morocco's fault for answering the door shirtless in the first place.) So he continued on his mission, determined to find whoever it was and set things right.

(Canada looked thoughtfully at the rainbow, wondering if he could somehow fit "I LOVE SASKATCHEWAN" over it.)

He came across a half-open door. "Hello? Anyone inside?" No response. He peered inside. "Anybody?"

Spain was lying on the floor, snoring softly. Apparently he had rolled over in his sleep and simply fallen right off the edge of the mattress. England noted (with some disdain) the silly smile on his face; no doubt he was fantasizing about a certain macaroni wanker brother…

Well, everything looked fine here. England was about to leave when Spain stirred. He watched the Spaniard wriggle around, trying to find a comfortable position on the cold hardwood. Then he noticed that Spain's pillow had somehow migrated under the bed.

Back to Spain fidgeting under his blanket.

Back to the pillow.

Back to Spain tossing and turning.

… Being a good Samaritan just this once wouldn't hurt… would it?

Ignoring his apprehension at helping out his former nemesis, he crossed the room and knelt down by the bed. "You better be grateful for this, wanker," he muttered as he retrieved the offending article. Maybe this would make up (at least partly) for his little… spell incident…

It was then that Romano suddenly showed up, popping his head through the doorway. "Oi, tomato bastard, you dead or something? When're you getting up?" He was about to step inside and viciously shake said tomato bastard awake when it finally hit him what he was seeing. His jaw dropped.

Spain sprawled messily on the floor. Unconscious.

England crouched ominously by him.

With a tranq gun.

And a pillow.

Leaning threateningly over the Spaniard.

With the pillow.

Spain unconscious.

Tranq gun.

Pillow.

England.

An awkward silence fell.

"Y-y-you… why're you—you… y-y—"

And that was when Spain, still half-asleep, grabbed England and hugged him to his chest. "Buenos dias, Lovi~~~~"

"Congratulations, Alfred," said Canada as he led his brother to a mirror, "it's a Nyan cat."

America scowled. "Damn, that's an ugly Nyan cat."

Oh shit. I was totally not prepared for a Nyan cat. I only have boy and girl names thought up, damn it…

I… have run out of OC profiles for the moment. Which is bad, because it means I'm not making every nation feel included yet! Goddamnit. DX

Morocco: He's a guy. He's just sensitive about getting stared at. Don't go thinking England had his daily dose of boobies so early in the morning.

The next one won't take so damn long, I promise. DX