People really don't seem to understand the point of a "parody", do they? People have no patience, won't even let me get far enough to set up a plot separate from the original storyline. Instead, I am being heckled and bullied, threatened with hacking, lawsuits, and jail time. For one, I'm a minor. Two, if you want to get the court involved over something that is "non-profit", you're wasting everyone's time (especially when Hetalia is free to watch on multiple LEGAL servers online). And three, if you think me writing this is "illegal", then what is hacking? Even threats of hacking can be labeled as harassment. I had this big angry rant planned, but I decided, after I get the above out of my system, I'm gonna stop trying to fight fire with fire. We can fix this situation, but I can't do it if you don't cooperate.

First of all, I will try to diverge more from the original storyline, but remember, this is not a "what if" story, it's a "parody" which means the events in the story will be based on the Hetalia canon storyline. I won't rewrite chapters I've already made, because it will cause major inconsistency. But, instead, we can build up from here. What I need you to do is, instead of criticizing every little mistake I make, calling me a thief, uncreative, and even trying to bring my PARENTS into the conversation, you open up your minds and try helping me make this story better? Like, try suggesting some things for the upcoming chapters. I repeat, this is still meant to parody the show, so any conflict in the storyline will still have the same resolution, but characters can feel differently about situations, certain things can change, etc. What I'm saying is, GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS instead of trying to bully me into changing a story I have, believe it or not, put much effort into. Stop it with the hate in the reviews, and maybe try to think more positively, okay? I even wrote an entirely original scene at the end of this chapter just for the heck of it.

And, to answer a few more questions, I am not ignoring Romano, he just didn't have that big a plot in episode 1 (literally the only line that possibly referenced him was "and that other big brother who I don't know the name of because I haven't met him yet"). He'll have his chapter soon enough. Just be a little more patient, okay?

Oh, and if you don't wanna read this much, well I don't really like reading your essay-length reviews either, so fair is fair.

It never ceased to amaze Germany how Austria managed to take an instrument as elegant as the piano and use it to make such non-elegant music. What he played always sounded like it could be played on guitar and drums, but that wasn't to say it sounded bad on piano. It actually sounded great. Austria had called him over to listen to some of his music, and so far it sounded wonderful. Finally, the red-haired man took his fingers off the keys and turned to face him. "So, what do you think?"

"It sounded wonderful," Germany replied with a nod.

Austria chuckled arrogantly as he rolled his eyes. "Of course it was." He pushed in the piano bench and pulled down the covering over the keys, cracking his knuckles briefly to work the ache out of his fingertips. "So," he began. "I hear you've become allies with Italy," he said, as he stepped over to pour some tea he had been letting steep. "That's wonderful news!"

Germany sighed quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. "It's not like I really had a choice." Then he blinked, looking back up as Austria handed him a teacup. "Wait, why would that be wonderful news? I thought you hated Italy."

Austria shrugged slightly, sitting back down with his own cup. "I did at first, but he seemed to grow on me," he admitted.

That surprised Germany much. From the way Italy talked about Austria, it sounded like they hadn't had the best relationship. Well, no matter. He took a sip of the tea, which was clearly made with flowers and exotic herbs. Everyone knew Austria overspent often. "I'm personally not enjoying my experience with Italy," Germany admitted. "I mean, he's a total sociopath. How did you manage to raise him?"

But Austria just gave him a knowing look. "It takes a strong hand, but a gentle touch."

Germany scowled at his tea. "That has to be the most vague thing I've ever heard."

Austria shrugged. "Not my fault you don't understand my genius."

Germany sighed, taking another sip. Whatever was in the tea was making him a little bit drowsy. He stifled a yawn as his eyes drifted shut...

The next time they opened, Germany found himself looking at the campfire they had made on the island. Had that been a dream? No, probably a memory. Why had he thought about that? Hmm, probably because he was still trying to figure out how to work with Italy. Germany shook his head, shutting his eyes again. He was still tired.

Meanwhile, up above, five figures watched the three sleeping below. The first was a delinquent-looking teen with tan skin, auburn hair, and red eyes, sunglasses perched atop his head. The second was an impish man with pink hair, freckles, and bright blue eyes, who looked like he was on a constant sugar high. The third was a man with sullen purple eyes, and blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, a little bit of stubble growing on his chin. The fourth was an Asian man with long brown hair left loose under a military cap, muddy-brown eyes, and a black dragon tattoo snaking up his left bicep, which was shown off by his lack of sleeves. The last man was significantly taller than the others, with tousled black hair, sharp crimson eyes, and ghostly pale skin, all of which contrasted greatly with each other. He wore a black greatcoat with a blood-red scarf tied up around his neck, and some kind of honourary medal pinned over his heart.

The first man spoke. "They're asleep. We should attack now!"

The fourth man scowled sharply at the first. "You're far too impulsive, America. We should wait."

"I'm the leader!" America shouted back angrily.

"China has a point, America." The second man pointed out.

America simply crossed his arms with a childish scowl. "What do you know?"

The third man sighed. "What's the point? We'll never beat them anyway."

The second man pouted, gently placing a hand on the third man's shoulder. "Why so sad, France? There's only three of them and five of us."

But France suddenly lashed out, grabbing the second man by the front of his sweater-vest. "They've already captured half of my country, England!" He exclaimed. "How much more do I have to lose?"

England frowned, slowly prying France's hands away. "Calm down, France." He said, noting how cold his hands were. They would need to fix that. "Oh, I know what'll make you feel better. Why don't we go back to camp and have s'mores?"

"Aw," America whined. "But I wanna attack now!"

"We have chocolate."

America froze, then grit his teeth. "Chocolate. My only weakness."

"So, everyone agrees?" England said, his eyes sweeping over everyone, finally landing on the fifth man. "... Russia?"

The others turned to look at the Soviet who had been silent since the beginning. America leaned and whispered to England. "Does he even like s'mores?"

And after a long period of uncomfortable silence, Russia finally spoke. "S'mores sound nice."

England nodded. "Then, let's go!" he exclaimed, already leading the way. "I have a great recipe. It involves fireflies and it makes your tongue glow-"

"And this," America interrupted, "is why we don't let you cook."

Sometime during the Sixteenth Century

Italy sighed angrily as he wrung out the mop before continuing as he was. This had started as a simple chore, one room, maybe, but thanks to a stupid comment, now he was being forced to mop every room. It was quite a clever comment, though.

Austria had told him, "You will polish the floors in here until I can see my reflection in them."

To which Italy's response was: "Ugh, why would you want to see that?"

Now, here he was, on his third room. He hated Mr. Austria, but he had to admit, it wasn't like this every day. Though Mr. Austria was usually really mean and arrogant, there were some days when he was nicer. Italy's secret theory was that he had a multiple personality disorder.

He was passing by a room, and from within he heard a very lively and rhythmic song on piano. Mr. Austria loved rock music, and he was quite good at playing it. Italy peeked in curiously and Austria looked up, noticing him. But strangely, he didn't yell at Italy to get back to work. Instead, he smiled. "Hey, Italy. Why don't you take a break and come listen to the piano?

Italy's brows furrowed. Was this the same Austria who had thrown him into a closet the other day? Yep, definitely bipolar. He shrugged and dropped the broom in the middle of the floor before joining Austria at the piano.

"Have you ever played the piano?" Austria inquired.

Italy shook his head. "Nope."

Austria gestured to the keyboard. "Well, why don't you give it a try?"

Italy looked at the keys, resting his babyish hands on them. They were so shiny, clearly cleaned and taken good care of. He tapped one key experimentally, tilting his head at the small 'plink'. Italy's eyes narrowed at the keys. Suddenly, with a great crash, he climbed right onto the keyboard, trying to spread himself out as flat as he could. "I wanna hit them all at once!"

Austria just chuckled. "I think you'll need to be a little taller first."

In the dark, a single firefly fluttered around gracefully, its body glowing brightly against the surrounding blackness. It was so small, flying without a care in the world, like nothing could harm it... then suddenly, in an instant, the firefly was crushed between a cracker and a marshmallow. "And now," England said, placing the s'more between the pincers of a pair of tongs, "lightly toast it." A moment later, England shoved the whole s'more directly into the center of the flames. When he took it out, it was black and steaming. "And then, enjoy!" And without hesitation, England put the charcoal confection into his mouth as the Allies watched in horror. A moment later, England suddenly began choking, until China jumped to action and quickly performed the Heimlich maneuver. England spent a moment coughing out the remaining pieces before he opened his mouth wide and showed the others. "Did it make my tongue glow?"

The saddest part is... it did.

Russia looked to France, who was just eating the marshmallows raw. "You should be smiling," the tall man said, gesturing to the pastel pink man with the glowing tongue. "You just saw England almost choke to death."

France just sulked. "The key word is 'almost'." He muttered as he popped another marshmallow into his mouth.

America scowled, snatching the bag away from France. "Dude, you're supposed to toast the marshmallows! Not wolf 'em down."

"France is just a stress eater," England said. "Hey, I know what'll make you feel better. Does anyone know any good campfire songs?"

Russia looked around at the silent Nations. "I am very curious about the campfire songs in your countries."

"Sounds like a good idea. I'll go first." America said before anyone could respond. "It's called 'this land is your land'."

England leaned forward. "Who's it by?"

America shrugged. "I dunno, but it's fun to sing. Does anyone have a guitar?"

Silence, then China raised a weird-looking instrument. "It's called a pipa, but yeah."

America rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" He took the instrument from China, taking a moment to figure out how he wanted to hold it. It was a little different from a normal guitar, but how different could it really be? He found the first string, positioned his hands, and began to sing.

"This land is your land This land is my land

From California to the New York island;

From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters

This land was made for you and me."

He finished the song, receiving a quick round of applause. America took a small bow. "Okay, who's next?"

England eagerly raised a hand. "Ooh, me!"

America passed over the pipa, and England immediately began plucking the strings. "This one's called 'a hunting we will go'." He said, not even hesitating before jumping into the song.

"A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go,

Heigh ho, the dairy-o, a hunting we will go

A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go

We'll catch a fox and put him in a box

And then we'll let him go."

One more round of applause. England passed the instrument to the next person on his immediate left, China. The most skilled with the pipa didn't hesitate to begin singing before he had even announced the song. It was a mandarin tune called "Liǎng zhī lǎohǔ", a song about two little tigers with no ears or tails. By the time the song ended, everyone looked a little disturbed by the lyrics.

"No ears?" England repeated.

"No tail?" America added.

China scowled. "What? It's a nursery rhyme in my country!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "Ugh, white people," he muttered as he passed the pipa to France.

France hesitated, going stiff. "I... don't really sing."

"That's a lie," China said. "I've heard you sing." The others murmured an agreement.

Realizing he wasn't fooling anyone, France sighed. "Well, I do know one. It's called 'Gentil Coquelicot'." The others nodded encouragingly, prompting France to nervously start the song. It sounded like a folk song, about picking flowers when a nightingale came down and told him in Latin men and boys are worth nothing, but said many nice things about girls. Overall, the song may not have made much sense, but it sounded nice.

France hurried to get the pipa away from him, his cheeks flushed at the applause he received after his performance.

Russia took the pipa when it was offered and gave it an experimental strum. "I only seem to know the romance songs."

"Really?" America asked in disbelief.

England elbowed him lightly. "Those sound nice, Russia." He said. "Let's hear one."

"Well," He said as he idly plucked the strings. "It's called 'shine, shine, my star'."

Everyone leaned forward, intrigued. Russia always acted far too serious for romance songs, so this was a thing they all wanted to see. A moment later, Russia began.

"Gori, gori, moya zvezda,

Zvezda lyubvi, privetnaya!

Ty u menya odna zavetnaya,

Drugoy ne budet nikogda."

Russia finished his song, reaching to hand the pipa back to China, but when he looked up, he found everyone staring at him, mesmerized. He tilted his head. "What? Is my singing that good?"

England was the first to snap out of it. "So, France, feeling better now?"

France nodded. "Yes, I guess so."

America raised an eyebrow. "Good enough to kick some Axis butt?"

"Let's save that until tomorrow," England advised. "It's getting late."

America rolled his eyes. "Ugh, lame."

And without further debate, everyone dispersed to their sleeping bags, each designed with a flag representing the Allied countries. England rested his head on the Union Jack pillow, snuggling down in the zipped up bag. "Night everyone." He said

"Night."

See? An entire chapter with only one quote from the show because that line was friggin hilarious. But I bet someone's gonna nag me because "Germany and Austria were in the same room and a piano was played" even though Austria was CONGRATULATING Germany on his alliance with Italy. Oh, and the second scene where Italy and Austria sit together at the piano, even though Italy actually plays the piano instead of just sitting and listening. Oh, and let's not forget, "using song lyrics that don't belong to you" even though I've credited the artists down below. Just because there are similar settings doesn't mean the scene is identical. Just because similar topics come up doesn't mean I copy the scene entirely. I think some people need to rewatch the anime. Anyway...

I think I only made this as an excuse to research different campfire songs around the world (which is probably true since it has no purpose in the story at all and I had no clue how to end it, but screw it, it's original). Anyway, a pipa is a traditional Chinese instrument with four strings and is kinda shaped like a pear. "This land is your land" is by Woody Guthrie. They taught us it back in school, but with modified Canadian lyrics. "A Hunting We will go" is by Thomas Arne. It's a British folksong. "Liǎng zhī lǎohǔ" is a Mandarin nursery rhyme that adopts the tune of "Frere Jacque". It originated in Taiwan. "Gentil Coquelicot" is a French folk song. "Shine, Shine, My Star" has to be my favorite out of all of them. It's so beautiful, the lyrics. I tried to avoid putting lyrics in other languages, but I couldn't help it. I only put the first verse, but here are the English lyrics.

Shine, shine, my star,

Shine, affable star!

You are my only cherished one,

Another there will never be.

Also, it's my headcanon that Russia has an amazing singing voice.