Britain / Arthur Kirkland

"What do you mean you're breaking up with me?" I ask, tears in my eyes, but I keep up the smile, hoping that maybe it's just another of his stupid jokes. "Y/N, I mean it. I'm sorry, but I really just don't... don't feel it anymore. You're not the only one who's sad about it, okay? I feel bad too." My boyfriend says with a pleading look, begging me to understand what he's saying, but I simply can't understand it. "You don't feel it anymore? What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, my voice cracking. "I... don't love you anymore, Y/N."

I was sitting on a bench in the park, staring into the emptiness, my mind replaying the situation over and over. My boyfriend had just broken up with me this morning. And to make it worse, it was even Valentine's Day. What poor life do I have to live, for my boyfriend to break up with me on Valentine's Day? I ask myself with a sigh.

I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't even realize the drops of water falling from the sky.

"B-but we can still be friends, Y/N," my ex-boyfriend said hopefully, and I shook my head. "You're kidding me, right?" Slowly, my anger started to boil over, but I tried to stay calm, for both of our sakes. Without a second word, I left his apartment and ran. I wasn't sure where I was running to, but in the end, I ended up in the park.

"Still be friends, tsk, yeah, right. Breaking my heart, but then he takes it halfway back." I grumble angrily. Even half angry, I hadn't told him my opinion, which would have probably ended in me shouting at him. Finally, I became aware of the water drops and looked up at the sky. "Really now?" I ask, frowning. "Lonely, breakup, raining on Valentine's Day... yay." I said dryly, standing up. "Guess I should head home before I get completely caught in the storm."

Not to my luck, I didn't make it. The rain was now streaming down in masses, typical British weather, I would say. Quickly, I ran to the nearest house in the city, standing now safe from the rain, under a glass awning. "Damn it. My clothes got all wet," I complained, then sighed. "Guess I'll just stay here and wait for the rain to be over." I stood there for a while, lost in my thoughts, mainly thinking about the breakup and trying not to cry again, as a man rushed under the same awning as I was. At first, I didn't even notice him, but then he spoke up, more to himself. "Aw, sod it! My clothes got all wet." I looked over to him, curious, because he just said the exact same thing as I did. The man had a rather nice brown suit on, a leather suitcase in his hand, like a banker. His hair was short and blond.

Suddenly, the man looked at me. "Excuse me, miss, you don't happen to carry a tissue with you, do you?" I blinked three times before my mind finally understood what he was saying. "Huh? Oh, uhm, wait, let me look," I said, quickly looking in my pockets for a tissue. Actually, I thought I had used all of them to blow my nose after crying so much, but I found one last one. "Here you go, mister." With a polite expression, I gave him the tissue, and he smiled at me. "Thank you," he said, then trying to dry up his belongings with the tissue. As he was done, he stuffed the tissue in his pocket and looked at me. "It looks to me like you've been caught by surprise by the rain too." He guessed, and I nodded. "Yes, I didn't expect it to rain that badly." The man chuckled. "Actually, I thought about taking my umbrella with me this morning. I wish I had done it now." He explained, then changed the topic. "So, why's a pretty lady like you out in a storm like this, on a day like today?" I tensed up a bit. "Oh well... It's... a long story." My answer was vague, but I'd rather not tell him about my whole life. Also, his eyebrows really distracted me. They were so strange. Probably to make up for his strange eyebrows, he had shining green eyes, and I could sense intelligence behind them.

"Well, I assume both of us will stand here for a rather long time, so there's plenty of time to hear your story, but of course, I won't force you." The man said, starting to sound a bit awkward. "I don't even know your name," I mumbled, and he chuckled. "Why, I can fix that." He gave me a slight bow. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. May I ask what yours is?" "Y/N... Y/N L/N." Arthur's eyes seemed to sparkle. "That's a really beautiful name," he complimented. "Now, back to your long story." I felt a bit uncomfortable, but then said, "My boyfriend broke up with me today, so I was lost in thought and didn't realize it started to rain." "He broke up with you? On Valentine's Day? That scumbag surely has no manners!" Arthur said with an irritated frown, while I simply shrugged.

The following hour, Arthur tried to tell me crazy stories, and while they were entertaining, I still had the feeling that Arthur was a bit weird, but at least not in an uncomfortable way. Slowly, the rain started to stop.

"Ah, the sky's clearing up again," Arthur said relieved. "I really enjoyed my time with you. Perhaps we could exchange numbers and keep the connection up?" He asked, sounding hopeful. I cringed a bit. "Sorry... but I'm not looking for any new contacts right now." The British man looked a bit disappointed, but kept smiling politely. "Of course. I can understand that. I still wish you a good day." And then, we parted ways.

France / Francis Bonnefoy

It was a peaceful day in France, nothing new, nothing bad. As usual, I was busy again this week, shopping and walking around at the weekly market. It really was always beautiful. All those different fruits, and the amount of other food. Not to mention the liveliness of the people.

"3 euros for just a bag of strawberries? Come on, you know me, can't you just lower the price a bit?" I heard a man ask, but the seller stayed firm. "For you, I'll make the price even higher." I chuckled at their banter, then continued to walk. Finally, my eyes caught a stall full of flowers. Immediately, I went to look through the various flowers, the smell was truly incredible.

"You've got a wide selection of flowers," I said cheerfully to the woman selling them. "Can you make me a flower bouquet?" I asked kindly, and the woman nodded. "Of course, but that would cost a bit extra." she said.

"That's no problem," I replied. I continued chatting with the woman while my attention was drawn to a bee nestling in a flower. I smiled a bit. The sun was shining, the flowers giving off their beautiful scent, and the people were happy and friendly. What could go wrong?

The woman gave me the flowers, and I paid for them, but before I could turn around, I heard a man chuckle behind me. "ohonhonhonhonhon. My, what have we here?" he asked with a flirty French accent. The man stood beside me now, picking a rose from the stall. "A beautiful rose, for a beautiful young lady," he said, and I cringed.

He was taller than me, with long blond hair and blue eyes, smelling a bit like cheese.

I smiled awkwardly and politely. "Good day to you too, Sir," I said, wanting to get away, but the man swiftly twirled me around. "Already leaving, without telling me your name?" He asked flirtatiously, and I really wanted to punch his face.

"Yes," I said dryly, but that just made him chuckle.

"Well, I've got something to show you," he said in a whisper, and I already tensed, not knowing which direction it would go. Luckily, he then pulled out his camera and showed me a photo on the screen. "I just so happen to have caught a perfect moment," he said with a smile. The photo was of me, receiving the flowers and smelling them. The picture looked pretty good, the sun hitting my best spots perfectly.

"Uhm... thanks?" I said, not knowing what kind of reaction he expected from me. The Frenchman chuckled again. "Ah, ah, there is no need for a beautiful lady to thank me. My name is Francis, mon cher, and what is yours?" I pressed my lips together, not wanting to say it.

"Come on, don't be shy, I don't bite." I let out a grumble, then muttered, "Y/N."

"Oh!" Francis swooned. "What a magnificent name, for such a perfect lady." Maybe, I thought, if I just stay quiet now, he would go away on his own. Francis, still holding the rose in his hand, smiled at me. "And for whom are these flowers?"

"For me," I said, figuring it would be rather embarrassing for myself if I didn't answer. "Then let me add this one," Francis said, wanting to smell the flower, but suddenly, the bee I had seen earlier crawled out and stung him in the nose, making him jolt away and completely lose his flirty demeanor, tears in his eyes as his nose started to swell. "Oh, no, no, not my perfectly perfect nose!" He complained.

"Are you... alright?" I asked, but Francis didn't seem to pay attention to me anymore, so I skillfully made my way away from him, like a ninja.

Prussia / Gilbert Beilschmidt

Being a tourist in Germany had been a rather fun trip so far, but it reached its peak in Cologne during Carnival. I was dressed up as (insert costume/cosplay of your choice), and while I wasn't standing right at the street to catch the sweets, it was still a very amusing experience.

Most of the Germans were dressed up in silly costumes, drinking their liver to its death. But that was the fun part. I had noticed that many Germans tended to stay in their own bubbles for the most part, but in Cologne on that day, it was completely different. Many people came up to me, offering beer and other alcohol, dancing and singing with me to their Carnival songs, and even though their English wasn't the best while being drunk, they still did their best to chat with me properly. Most of the time, though, I stood off to the side, watching the many carnival floats pass by. Many of them had political meanings. But what actually caught my eye was a man who was trying to climb up a streetlamp. A yellow bird flew around him. His hair was white, and he had a cocky smirk on his face, but I couldn't make out any further details. On the ground stood some of his friends, I assumed, calling him to come down, but he seemed determined to reach the top. Once there, he looked down with a satisfied smirk.

It was very clear that he was drunk.

But without being prepared for it, his gaze suddenly locked with mine. For a second, we just stared at each other, then he smirked.

"Oh no," was all I could think. Dealing with a stupid, drunk German wasn't exactly my top priority. To make matters worse, a candy was thrown from the carnival train, hitting me right on the forehead.

"Ouch," I mumbled, rubbing my forehead and looking down to see exactly what it was. It didn't look very tasty, so I didn't even try to pick it up. When I looked back at the white-haired man, he was walking towards me, swaying but with a confident stride, and a cocky smirk on his lips.

"Hallo, Weib," (Hello, woman) he said, now standing in front of me. He reeked of alcohol, but I could have guessed that before.

"Hi," I said, a bit disgusted. "If you want to talk to me, you have to speak in English. I can't understand German," I explained, hoping he would be too lazy to speak a different language and just go away. But that wasn't the case.

"Whaaat? English? So, you're not German, huh? Works for me; after all, I'm super awesome," he said, casually drunk. "I'm even so awesome that I can speak English, even when I'm drunk," he continued. "And I know you know that I'm awesome, judging by the look you gave me when my awesome self managed to get up the streetlamp," he bragged.

"I was more hoping you would fall down," I said sarcastically, "That would have been awesome," 

The man smirked even more cockily now. "Feisty, huh? Well, I suppose my awesomeness wouldn't be harmed by a small fall."

"You would have probably died if you had hit your head," I said bluntly, and then the man was quiet.

"That's a good point, I guess," he said, then smirked. "But the awesome Gilbert didn't fall!"

"You talk about yourself in the third person?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn't sure if this guy was amusing or annoying.

"Well, yes. It makes me sound even cooler and more awesome than I already do," he said, his bird landing on his head.

Another man came over to us. Tall, blond hair, looking rather strict, but he too was tipsy.

"Entschuldige, wenn mein Bruder unangenehm auffällt," (Sorry if my brother is being uncomfortable) he said, looking like he said this often.

"Bruder, you have to speak English, she's not German," Gilbert explained, and the brother looked at me apologetically.

"Sorry, what I meant to say is that Gilbert is a bit... complicated, especially when he's drunk. Sorry if he bothered you."

I shook my head. "Oh, no, it's fine."

The man nodded, then said his farewells, dragging Gilbert behind him. Gilbert, however, managed to wink at me one last time and made a gesture with his hand that supposedly meant 'call me later,' even though I didn't even have his number.

Russia / Ivan Braginsky

It was snowing like crazy, and I couldn't see the paths in the park because everything was just white. "What? No, that's not what I meant!" I said angrily into my phone.

This day had been a total disaster. First, I almost came late to work, then my mother argued with me again about how I should start getting my life together, and now this stupid phone call fight with a friend of mine. "HUH? What did I say wrong now?"

I had known the friend I was calling since middle school, but lately, our relationship had become pretty tense. He/she always found a way to get on my nerves or find something to fight about. This time it was because I told him/her that I couldn't go to the stupid party today because I simply had too much work to do.

In general, I was really exhausted, so I sat down on a bench, continuing the argument. I hadn't even noticed the tall man sitting quietly beside me.

"No, I mean that I simply can't deal with this today, okay? It's been a rough day for me, and even if I didn't have work to do, I still wouldn't want to go, because I'm dead tired!" I said angrily, my frown deepening. "Ugh, whatever. I'll call you later. Maybe you'll be calmer then." I said, then hung up.

Now, I noticed the man with the light beige hair. "Sorry if I bothered you," I held up my phone with an apologetic smile. "My friend can be a bit difficult sometimes." The man looked at me with a rather cute expression. "No problem. You can sit here with me; it's better than sitting alone." I cracked a half-amused smile. The bench was positioned so that we had a view of the sea. "Besides, if it had bothered me, I would have made it silent already." He said nonchalantly, but I wasn't sure if it was actually meant as a threat. "Uh... okay," I said, then placed my purse on my lap and began searching for a tissue, my nose running like crazy from the cold.

"Damn it, I don't have any tissues left?" I mumbled to myself, but the man already held one out to me. "Here you go," he said, still wearing that cute, innocent expression. He weirded me out a bit, but he was too kind to run away. "Thanks," I replied, taking the tissue. As I did, our fingertips brushed against each other, but since he was wearing gloves, he probably didn't even notice.

After a while of awkward silence, I stood up, but the man smiled at me. "Why don't you stay a little longer?"

"I... I have a lot of work to do. I should go home and finish it up," I explained.

"Really? I want you to stay, though," he said, still smiling, and I had the feeling 'no' wasnt an option.

"I... could stay for ten more minutes," I suggested, and he smiled again, nodding. "That would be nice."

So I stayed for ten more minutes. 

The Russian man sighed. "Ah, it's so nice to sit in peace and quiet with a kind Human." I frowned a bit in confusion but didn't question it. "I suppose," I mumbled. Then he turned to me.

"My name is Ivan Braginsky. What's yours?"

"Uh... y/n," I said, a bit hesitant. He was so strange.

"And your last name?" "Is the last name really important?" "Of course it is, silly. Как ты можешь не знать? (How could you not know?)" he chuckled, placing his hand on my head and ruffling my hair. I was a bit stunned. This man was really something.

"Ah, look at that, ten minutes are already up," I quickly said, and Ivan looked surprised.

"Are they?"

Quickly, I nodded. "Yes. Yes, they are up." Hurriedly, I stood up. "See you around," I said, waving before running off.

This man gave me the chills.

Spain / Antonio Fernández Carriedo

Not many left, I thought to myself. I had had a full day today because I had volunteered to walk door to door, asking for donations for the Caritas España organization. This organization helps the poor and works to eliminate social exclusion for the homeless and refugees.

I had already raised quite a bit of money; people weren't afraid to spend a little for a good cause. I walked up a few stairs to the next door, looking at the sign beside the bell.

Familia Fernández Carriedo

Was written there, along with the house number above it.

"Here goes nothing," I said before ringing the bell. It took a few seconds for someone to open the door.

The man was taller than me, with brown hair and green eyes. He was really handsome, and I just hoped I wasn't blushing too hard.

"Hola," he said with a kind smile.

"Ah, hola," I replied, a little flustered. "I... um," His appearance was pretty distracting, but I managed to pull myself together. "I'm here to collect donations for the Caritas España organization," I said with a smile. The man frowned. "Mhh, I've never heard of that. What do you guys do?"

"We work to reduce poverty and ensure there is no longer any exclusion of the homeless or refugees," I explained, having said this sentence a million times already today. It took the man a few seconds to process what I said, then he smiled. "Ah, I see. That's muy good, I would say. Wait, let me grab my wallet."

I nodded politely and waited. The man was searching for quite a while, then came back holding up the money with a thumbs up. "Found it!" he cheered, and I cracked a smile.

This man wasn't just handsome; he was cute as well.

"Here you go," he said, taking my hand and giving me 150 €. My eyes went wide. That was by far the biggest donation I had received.

"Thank you so much, Mister," I said with a grateful smile. He chuckled, scratching his head sheepishly. "No need to thank me, dulzura (sweetie)." I was pretty sure I was blushing now.

Stupid nicknames always caught me by surprise.

I smiled again and said, "Still, thank you. You're helping us a lot. Have a good day, Mister."

"You too, chica dulce (cute girl)," he said with a wink.

Later, as I was on my way back to the organization to hand in the money I had raised today, I was going through the bills when something caught my eye. It was a small letter. The only thing written on it was a number and a smiley face.

I smiled a little, already guessing who it might be from. I stuffed the letter in my jeans pocket and continued on my way back.

Romano / Lovino Vargas

Being friends with Ludwig just had to mean that I was friends with Feliciano as well. In fact, I was so good with him that he even invited me to his home two weeks ago, and of course, I immediately agreed. After all, Italy was a beautiful country, so it would be worth the money it took to drive there.

Before I had driven off, Ludwig had warned me about Feliciano's brother, who likely wouldn't like me since I was German. He mentioned that his brother had a variety of insults for Germans in particular and that some of them were combined with potatoes and the word "bastard." Honestly, that had worried me quite a lot. After all, the two brothers lived together in one house, and it would be really exhausting to have someone around me who constantly insulted me for my nationality.

Stay positive! I warned myself.

I was used to sinking so deep in my thoughts that everything ended up bad, but this time I wanted it to go differently. Feliciano was a sweetheart, and surely he would find a way for his brother to be nice to me.

Driving through the small streets was a pain, but at least my car was rather small, so it wasn't as difficult as if I had a big car. It took me a long while to find Feliciano's place, but eventually, I still did. I parked my car a bit away, grabbed my suitcases, and walked up to the door. I rang the bell, and Feliciano opened it, throwing himself on me. "Ahh, y/n, it's so good to see you! It took you ages, but now you're finally here, and I already made pasta, ve~." I chuckled as he continued to chat away. "Can I come in first before you bombard me with your cheerful chattering?" I asked, and Feliciano nodded multiple times. "Of course, come in, come in. I already tried to make your room ready, but then I figured we could sleep in the same bed as well, so obviously you can pick, but it can always happen that I visit you in the night and we have a friendly-friend-sleepover-pasta-party, ve~!" Again, he rambled on. It was a bit hard for me to follow what he was saying. He said so much, so fast, in that Italian accent, and it didn't make it easier to understand when he threw in some random Italian words, since the most I understood from Italian was 'pasta' and 'ciao.'

After we brought my stuff up to my new room—Feliciano really put work into this room—we went to the living room, talking about my arrival, when I suddenly heard the door open and a man curse under his breath. "Feliciano! You cretino (moron)! How often do I need to tell you to not place your stupid shoes in the stupid way!" His voice was a bit rough, and his Italian accent was as thick as Feliciano's.

That must be his brother.

"Lovino! We have a guest. Her name's y/n, and I'm sure you will love her. She's such a nice person, ve~" "Haa?" Lovino made roughly. "Is that this ragazza that lives near the potato bastard?" he asked, and I tensed a bit. He really seemed to dislike Ludwig.

"Si, si," Feliciano said, standing up and walking to the door, disappearing behind the wall to talk to his brother. "I don't want her here! I don't need another of those beer and potato bastards. Seriously, they are all so boring and completely shit," Lovino continued to insult.

"Erm... fratello... she's already here," Feliciano said, sounding like he tried to calm him down, but that didn't work out at all. "What the hell?! And you're only telling me that now?! Listen up, you ugly potato bastard!" I heard footsteps coming closer to the living room. I tensed up even more. Then he appeared in my view, shortly followed by Feliciano, who tried to stop him. "Leave this house right this insta-" Lovino suddenly stopped talking and doing anything in general as I came into his view as well.

He looked at me with wide eyes, as if he were surprised by me.

I thought I saw a blush that crept up his cheeks. Then he pushed his brother away. "Go away from me, idiota," he grumbled, then stormed off into his room.

"What was that?" I asked Feliciano, and he simply sighed. "My fratello."