"Woooooooo-hoooooo!!" The ex-nation Prussia barreled through the front door at full force, skidding to a dangerously slippery stop that involved knocking several pictures off the walls. He whipped the wet locks of hair out of his face before throwing a shout to the person following him. "What---a---storm!! Am I right? Am I right?" He whooped. "Only because you looked at the weather forecast." (Y/N) stepped over the threshold more cautiously, hair dripping in soaked bunches and clothes clinging to her body. She quietly shut the door to the tempest outside. "I thought you said we didn't need an umbrella, Gil." "Never said it wasn't gonna rain." He grinned devilishly, ruby eyes still sparkling despite the dark weather, "I said we didn't need one. Umbrellas are for the un-awesome." "That was fun." (Y/N) admitted with a small smile, still feeling giddy and without breath from the escapade.

Why she agreed to accompany this man on outings she would never know. It took her at least three days to collect herself afterward. At least now she had some precious moments to gather her bearings while the albino wrestled with a stubborn trainer. She glanced about while trying to remove her water-logged sweatshirt without leaving a lake on the hardwood flooring. She hadn't noticed it in the frenzy to find shelter, but they were standing in quite a nice house. Details were cared for and kept very tidily, from the straightness of the picture frames on the wall to the uniform queues of shoes waiting disciplined by the door. The boots were even polished.

When compared to how Gilbert kicked his muddy sneakers into the wall and stripped his shirt to toss it onto the stairs, something just didn't add up. "Gil?" "Yeah?" He shook his head like a dog, his tarnished silver hair spraying droplets all over her and the surrounding area. She sneezed. "...Did you break into a stranger's house?" He burst into a fit of cackles. "Psshht, not even I would go that far, fräulein! This is my bruder's house." "Oh, Mr. Ludwig?" She said half to herself while peeling off her socks. She had heard a bit of him from Gilbert, but they had never met officially. Rather embarrassing that his first impression of her would be her looking like a drowned cat.

He cranked out a kesesesese. "Ja! I live here!" "Dummkopf!" As if on cue a string of ruthless German swears sounded from some distant chamber in the house, somehow clearly giving the impression that they were directed solely at Gilbert even though he hadn't yet announced his homecoming. Gilbert grimaced. "Home sweet home." He turned to holler an equally belligerent reply and also a lot more vulgar, thus commencing a high-volume showdown while he rummaged through the coat closet for towels.

If (Y/N) hadn't been trying to stifle her laughs, she might've been able to translate half of the conversation. 'Shut up I'm going to clean it up okay, oh yes I am, I am not a liar you saukerl, I am not a failure at human existence I can handle myself fine unlike a certain freeloader I know-what was that?! Oh, excuse me, Princess, but you can stick it up to your-'

He interrupted his shouting match to fling a fluffy towel at her head. "You're crashing here tonight, no protests." He added with a pointed glance when she opened her mouth. "No way am I driving you back in this, and hell if my brother would ever let you walk back yourself. I'm gonna go clear this with him before the young master throws another hissy fit, so stay right here, okay? I don't want his highness to bite your head off for breathing wrong." (Y/N) couldn't stifle the smirk that tugged at her lips. "Are you saying that not even your awesomeness is greater than him-" He chucked another towel at her head before shooting down the hall to disappear around the corner. His stomping footsteps echoed above the thunder, and if the sudden thump and burst of swears were any clue, at one point he slipped. (Y/N) sighed and shook her head. She really had little recollection of how she came to be acquainted with that man.

Their first meeting was clear he had decided to hit on her while she was a cashier at the bookstore she worked at as a show for his rowdy friends-- but there seemed to be no definable line between the 'We're strangers' phase and the 'It's acceptable to talk to each other semi-regularly phase and the 'best friends forever aw yeah' phase. Actually, he skipped the second phase entirely. He was the sort of person who did as he pleased, she supposed. She didn't mind at all; he had brightened up what had become a mundane routine for her in this new town. There certainly never was a dull moment.

She used the time awaiting Gilbert's return to tidy up what mess he had made. She wrung out his discarded t-shirt and her own sweatshirt outside since the front porch had an overhang. Finally, she managed to roll up her jeans to avoid trailing puddles, and she found a smaller towel to squeegee the slickness of her hair (they kept towels in the cloakroom. Like, bath towels. She got the feeling that this happened a lot). As for the mess Gil had made, well, she just decided to pat down some more clothes to soak up the mess.

Soon most of the disaster had been mopped up and effectively straightened from Gilbert's impact. But where was he, anyway? She couldn't even hear anyone swearing at him, which was actually alarming. (Y/N) slid down the wall, exhaling deeply. Crap, now she had to navigate social constructs. Let's see, it would be rude to invite herself into the living room, she knew that. Even if she did desperately want to wander about the house and explore. But no, she hadn't met the owners, that would be very rude. Must not explore. No. Bad (Y/N), don't peer down the hallways, nothing is interesting there. Nothing for her curiosity to get a hold of. Absolutely nothing.

...Was that a piano?

Despite all of her (half-hearted) attempts to wait patiently where she was, her eyes had found something intriguing within the limited view the welcome mat had to offer. At the end of the far hall, past a part where it even branched out, a door was slightly ajar. Soft light filtered out despite the dark storm clouding the atmosphere and she could've sworn she had seen something like the silhouette of a baby grand...

...Well, no one is looking.

Before she could stop herself, (Y/N) skittered down that far hall with a dry towel in tow should any calamity occur. Tread only upon the balls of her feet, her steps were near silent. She paused at the intersection of the halls for a moment, listening for any disturbance. Then she slipped inside and gently eased the door shut.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the relative darkness. Even squinting, it was near impossible to tell how large the room was. A distant faint light revealed tall windows on the opposite wall shrouded with fine curtains. The tiniest tapping tiptoe made a small, hollow echo. Was this a ballroom? The only visible subject was the corner nearest to the door, oddly cluttered and lit with only a soft glow by a flickering lamp atop a slim stand. A stout cabinet bursting with ragged music books with broken spines nestled in a heap of discarded staff-lined sheets. A simple, forlorn-looking chair crouched in the shadows underneath the lamp.

But the real centerpiece they surrounded was a piano, so pitch dark that it melted into the uncertain blackness, gloss, and perfect. The seat wasn't pushed in. It was inviting her. (Y/N) frantically shook her head to herself. No, no, no, she couldn't touch the piano! It obviously was more than mere decoration, if the scrapped sheet music had anything to say. She knew the holiness of this instrument; it was the extension of someone's soul. Playing on the hallowed keys would be as bad as a kindergartner getting into an artist's carefully crafted palette! Desecration! Absolutely inexcusable!

But it had been so long since she had played...

Eighty-eight seconds later, her fingertips hovered above the freshly uncovered ivories. Oh man, they weren't even dusty! The fancy cushioned piano seat had been carefully set aside in favor of the plain, poor chair that had been hiding. It was uneven, creaky, and much too low, but it was the only alternative to ruining the much nicer seat with her muddy jeans dripping dye. The gloss of the empty book-stand reflected both her anxiety and excitement. If she was caught...

Quietly as humanly possible, a finger fell onto D.

All the tension melted away.

(Y/N) had never really been great at the piano, or been too musically inclined at all, but she had always held an intense love for the silken melodies the instrument produced. Classical, jazz, pop song arrangements... she loved all of it! There was even a short period in early high school that she studied it intensely, and almost all of it came back now. She leaned into the keyboard, eyes shut tight, letting her hands sink into the ivories to produce a pianissimo cacophony. Heaven. Her eyes opened. Yes, she remembered. 'See, there's middle C, there's E, this is how you set your left hand, the bass clef is read differently, this is how you stretch your fingers for this chord, this is the baseline for Singing in the Rain...'

She felt herself grin at her giddy heart. Singing in the Rain! The faded memory of stumbling through the tune as a Junior high student resurfaced. Even the notes for that song still resided in her fingers! What else was there? Happy experimentation revealed that she could still string together simplified chords of Tchaikovsky, recall runs of exercises she had hoped to forget, tap out patches of Broadway overtures, and even hop along with unnamed marches that were so familiar to her. Of course, at this point, the need to keep quiet had been forgotten completely. The wide room returned each note.

A good twenty minutes into her musical escape procured frustration. While a great deal of what she had learned all those years ago had returned, she realized just how much remained forgotten. She had to set aside several tunes due to completely blanking out halfway through. Some Bach, one of Sousa's marches, the Corpse Bride theme, and Singing in the Rain's melodies had been cut short! And she liked the Corpse Bride! Gah!

(Y/N) irately clawed the tangles of half-dry hair behind her ear, huffing. No, no, calm down. Removing her hands from the keyboard, she exhaled and tried to gather her thoughts. It's okay, (Y/N). You can do this. Do something you know. Like...a show tune. You can sing those, can't you? That'll help you find the notes. How about...The Sound of Music? Is there a slower song in there? That's...right. Yeah: Edelweiss.

A hum rose at the back of her throat. It still took five tries for her fumbling fingers to find the corresponding key. She winced. 'C'mon, you can do this.' She hummed the next note. I couldn't find it. What she gets for being tone-deaf. Tentatively, she sang it out loud. 'There we go.' Then the next note, then singing the next note, and the next. 'Okay, now put it together.' "E--del-weiss.-" The piano warmly echoed her song. She smiled, heart quickening once again.

Another good ten minutes, and she had managed to get the melody down, even working out some of the left hand. Still, she was only toddling through it, and tentatively, but very happily. The piano wasn't used to her at all, but the fact that it had decided to accept her, for now, made her very glad indeed.

She almost faltered once realizing she was singing along to the song.

"...You...look hap-py to greet...me.-"

*Step*

A sharp discord whined before the phrase could resolve. Her hands were frozen as her senses returned. She was in someone else's house, playing someone else's piano, without that someone else's permission or even greeting. After that horrifying moment of silent revelation, she extracted her hands from the keys, gently closed the keyboard, and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "...S-sorry." "Well, if you're a thief, you have excellent taste." A leveled voice replied. "Or if you're a girl the brat brought home, you have excellent taste despite that. Care to inform me which you are?" "...Well, I can't exactly sneak out a window with a piano in my back pocket, sir." "Of course not." There followed an awfully hard silence in which (Y/N) was still too mortified to even turn her head to meet the man who had discovered her. Goosebumps rose under the damp towel about her shoulders. The rain did not abate. "...Well?" She jumped. "Well what, sir?" "Why'd you stop playing?"

She was so surprised at this that she whipped around to look at him. He was a tall man, a bit slender, and possessed a certain air that said that even though he wasn't rich he was going to damn well act like it. In other words, haughty. She wasn't sure if it was the manner of his accent that made him seem like an aristocrat, or how he was poised arms-crossed and leaning leisurely against the door frame, or the stern way he stared at her from behind glinting eyeglasses. But it certainly added to the overall effect. That, and the fine navy long coat and ruffled cravat. Who on earth dressed like that in the current century? Not that she could say that aloud, of course; her vocal cords suddenly decided to render her mute.

His gaze only grew sterner when she just stared. "You can play, can't you?" "You're not upset?" The inquiry came out as a squeak. "No! Do I look angry?" He snapped. "...Yes, sir, you do." "Bah, never mind that." He huffed running his fingers through his rich brown hair impatiently. "Can you play, or can't you?" "I used to be able to." "Well, it certainly looks as if you still can." He sniffed. "You aren't going to quit after one mistake, are you? You've been playing quite nicely, and I'd like to hear more." "Err, thank you, I-." Her eyes widened. "How long have you been listening?" "When I heard 'Singing in the Rain' from down the hall. Which is quite appropriate for the present moment." A small smirk threatened his serious countenance. (Y/N) combed her fingers through her hair, blushing furiously.

He'd been there since the start! Even when she was singing! His low voice interrupted her despair. "So, are you going to continue or not?" "I don't remember anymore-." "Nonsense." He snapped and looked at her sternly. "The piano never lets you forget. It's much too intelligent to let someone stray." (Y/N) blinked at this comment then her anxiety fissures and fell away making room for a wide grin. This man was certainly worthy of this instrument. Even if he had no musical aptitude at all, his respect and understanding were boundless, and it seemed may be more difficult for the piano to understand him than for him. But it was clear that they were already well acquainted, and indeed, she could feel the immobile creature let loose and prodigious sigh as if saying. 'The master is here, I can relax now'. "Alright." She slowly conceded. His features shifted subtly to convey smug triumph. "But don't get comfy. You're going to have to help me."

At this, he looked absolutely taken aback and stared at her with wide eyes as if she were had sprouted a few extra pairs of arms. She nearly laughed aloud at the uncharacteristic face. "What? You wrote all of those down there, didn't you?" She gestured to the nest of crumpled compositions. "You obviously know what you're doing." His countenance darkened. "All that I see right there is a mountain of failure-" "-or unfinished inspiration. Don't be so hard on yourself. Here," in a burst of confidence, she rose from the rickety chair and went to face him. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N)." She stuck out her hand with an amiable grin. "Sorry I didn't ask for permission to play first, though, in all honesty, you don't seem to mind at all." After a few moments, his comically shocked expression melted away to be replaced with a mildly pleased visage accompanied by cheeks slightly pinked.

He straightened his askew eyeglasses and put his gloved hand in hers. "Roderich Edelstein." He replied, still trying to sound lofty. "And I daresay that you're the first girl that that brat has brought home that's both cute and had any bit of sense in her." A blush rushed to her cheeks. "Thanks? And, uh, for what it's worth, Gilbert didn't 'bring me home'-bring me home." "Is that so? Even better." He muttered almost imperceptibly dropping her hand. "Pardon?" "First we have to get rid of that chair." He said briskly quickly stepping past her to drag the poor stool aside. "Why on earth did you decide to use this thing? I only have it here because someone took my listening stool."

"Wait- you're actually agreeing to this?" "Of course, I am. Not because I like you or anything, it's just that you seem at least halfway sensible and since the kitchen is occupied and nothing needs mending I have little else to do on a rainy day. Plus, Gossamer finds you curious. He might enjoy a less experienced companion to visit him occasionally. It's not-" He sent a pointed glance back at her. "-because I like you." (Y/N) nodded amusedly stepping to the side while he dragged furniture about. "Right. Whatever you say. Oh." She tilted her head. "Is that its name?"

"Hm? Ah, yes. At least right now. It changes every-" He paused. "...with the years." "You said he. It doesn't seem like a boy." "He's not. He's neither gender." He replied distractedly dragging out both pristine lesson books and spine-broken masses of song collections from the squat cabinet. "But 'it' sounds so objectifying, so we agreed on 'he'. Of course, it sounds natural when you say 'it'. Hm." Halting suddenly, his lilac gaze studied her up and down, very hard.

She squirmed under his gaze. "Uh, Mr. Edelstein.-" "No." He cut her off gently, still scrutinizing seemingly her every feature. "Roderich." He nodded slowly as if agreeing with some unspoken statement. "Roderich will do just fine." for the first time, a furtive smile appeared. He was quite handsome when he smiled. "Right, uh, Roderich." His smile brightened subtly as she said this. "I appreciate your offer for a nicer stool, but have you looked at me?" He glanced at her then waved his hand dismissively. "I'd rather have my chair slightly muddied than have your back ruined. That thing you were using was much too low, especially with your stature. No offense." "None taken." "Excellent." He sat on the left-hand edge of the piano bench and then looked back at her. "Now come on. Next to me." "O-okay." (Y/N) found herself suddenly feeling quite shy, which was unlike here.

She'd never been a particularly good student, and it'd be awfully embarrassing to show that in front of this gentleman who was very well-versed in all the manners that accompany the piano. Nonetheless, she tentatively settled down at his right, slightly sinking into the cushion. She silently noted that this seat was much better than the stool, but not without also noticing how the bench suddenly felt very small with him seated there as well. "Do you know of your scales?" Roderich's low voice interrupted her from her musings.

(Y/N) shook her head to refocus herself. "Uh-um, not as well as I should. I have my majors down and most of my minors." "Melodic minors, too?" (Y/N) shot him a pained look. "We will not be discussing melodic minors in my presence, thank you." He laughed unexpectedly. It was a sudden, warm sound. "Fair enough. How about we start with one of the songs you were playing since you seem to be familiar enough with the basics? Which one would you prefer?" (Y/N) tipped her head to the side in thought. She didn't want to choose one too complicated or she'd forget all of it. "How about-" "Edelweiss?" He blurted out.

She turned at him, surprised and he seemed just as startled. "Um." He stammered blinking. "Uh..." "...You like it don't you?" (Y/N) had to hold back a laugh. "It's not like that!" He snapped though considerably less intimidating with the blush on his face. "Well, actually it is like that. I mean." He looked off to the side and huffed. "While the number of people that believe that melody is an Austrian folk song or my national anthem is utterly astounding and annoying, and it's even more famous than my actual national songs, Julie Andrews is an astounding singer and actress and-" "-It's a really good song." She cut him off, nearly in laughter at his adorable fuss.

He paused and sighed, defeated. "Yes, it's a beautiful song and I love it." "Why are you so embarrassed?" "It's so typical." He sniffed turning back to the keys. "I don't like being typical. Especially when all those people really know of Austria is typical." "You speak as if you are Austria," (Y/N) said, tilting her head at him. "You must really love your country, huh?" He started, a confused look on his face, which surprised her. Before she could ask if he was okay, he regained composure and grunted assent. But she couldn't help but notice that a look of sadness had flashed in his eyes as he looked at her. "Are you (R/L)-handed?" his inquiry interrupted her thoughts.

She confirmed, and he nodded. "That explains why the other hand was shaky with its notes. We'll start with the hand you were having trouble with." She groaned. "Seriously?" He gave a stern look through his eyeglasses. "You were the one who asked me to help you. Now do as I say, or I might change my mind." "Bossy," she grumbled before setting her clumsy hand on the keys, summoning up the notes that were already fading from her memory. It wasn't long before she tapped a foul chord. She cringed and tried to continue to stumble along, but he stopped her. "Wrong. Again." She glared at him before starting over at the beginning. She messed up, at the same place, and he commanded her to restart yet again. And again. And again. (Y/N) was getting so agitated that she couldn't even get the first note right anymore, until finally, she slammed both hands upon the keys with disgust and then folded her hands in her lap, glaring at her reflection in the book-stand.

There was silence for a while. (Y/N) had expected him to yell at her, but it seemed she had misjudged his character. He spoke. "...That was how I was taught, anyway. But it won't work for you. We can try another tactic." he didn't sound nearly as haughty as he usually did. "You can sing if it helps." (Y/N)'s face warmed at the prospect of singing in front of a stranger. Roderich noticed and chuckled. "I guess that's a no. Pity, though. You have such a sweet voice. But would it help if you heard the song before trying it?" "It would." She admitted. "It's been such a long time since I've heard it, I guess that's part of why I'm having difficulties replicating it." "Well, I guess it can't be helped." "What can't be-hey!" His arms quickly snaked around her waist, gloved hands reaching to settle on the edges of the ivories.

(Y/N) was suddenly nestled in his embrace, her back against his chest and breath tickling her ear. "Uh, Roderich? I can get up if you would like to play." "I, uh, thought of that as well," she could feel him gulp. "But you need a clear view of the keys when I play and sitting anywhere else would hinder that. Well, I suppose you don't need to." He confessed. "But I thought it may be helpful." "Yes, of course." Were the only words that could come out. Her throat was suddenly quite dry. Roderich nodded took a slow breath and then began to play.

From the moment that he pressed the first chord into being, (Y/N) knew that Roderich was definitely something special. She had expected the practiced expertise displayed in his flawless execution of the score, but she was taken aback by the feeling he put into the song, emotion-infused within each note. He even moved along and against the music. Roderich's invitation to observe his playing was forgotten. (Y/N) just stared in wonder at him. Even his eyes were closed as the song progressed, lids only flicking in time with the pedal, a soft smile on his lips.

Finally, Edelweiss ended. All sound ceased as he lifted his foot from the pedal. Taking another slow breath, his eyes opened. There was a new sort of glow alive in them, swirling behind his glasses. As he looked at her, his eyes widened in surprise. "Were you not watching?" "There is no way I can follow that," was all that (Y/N) could say, shaking her head slowly. The bliss disappeared, and once again sternness was his countenance. "What? After I took the trouble to play for you?" "Roderich did you hear yourself. That was incredible." He blinked and glanced away. He straightened his glasses. "Ah, yes. It was, wasn't it. Glad you can appreciate fine music, not many can." He coughed. "But now it's your turn, (Y/N). I said I would help you, but you have got to put the effort in too." "Only if you let me use my preferred hand." "It's hardly as pretty with only one hand." "Well, then you do the other while I play my part." "Eh?" "And do the pedal, too. I can never time the pedal right." "Bossy." He grumbled under his breath. "Fine. But only if you sing." "What? No!" "If I have to do a hand and the pedal, then you have to do a hand and sing. It's only fair trade." He insisted firmly.

At her pouting face, he added. "You have a beautiful voice anyways." "...Fine." "Plus, it'll cover up any mistakes you make on your part." "Hey!" "Hush, let's start," he nudged her in the side and (Y/N) turned back to the piano, albeit a little grumpily. She carefully placed her hand upon the keys, settling her fingers in the proper positions for her opening chord. Suddenly, this was a lot more daunting than before. How could she keep up with him? Roderich sensed her unease. "Want me to intro a few measures?" "Y-yeah, let's do that." "Eight measures good?" "Yeah." (Y/N) could feel him take another slowing breath before he began. He started slowly, allowing her to get a hold of the tempo. Even his simple, single-handed intro was beautiful, (Y/N) mused. She wondered how long he had to study and practice for him to become this skilled.

In her thoughts, she missed the first note by half a beat. She hastily came in, but the note was feeble and shaky. Roderich immediately jumped back four measures so she could have a fresh start. That was awful nice of him. She nudged him gratefully and saw him nod from the corner of his eye. This time around, (Y/N) remembered her promise, as well. When her entrance came, she was ready. "E-del-weiss..." Her voice came out quiet and a little off-key. She always hated singing in front of anyone, it made her so nervous.

But he gave her an encouraging nudge and her voice strengthened as she continued. "...small...and-white...clean-and-bright..." Her hand's part was simple but strong, and Roderich worked very well to support it. He could accompany any musician, she thought. Even the worst he could probably make a sound like a Beethoven. "...Blos-som of snow may-you-bloom...and-grow..."His eyes had closed again, she realized. And again, he was so very close to her. "...bloom-and-grow...for-ev-ver..." Roderich was truly a fine pianist. Truly, he was. She was staring at him again, her hand playing along on its own. "Bless...my home-land for-ev-er..." Their hands lifted from the keys as her last note faded and his chord resolved. His slid open and met hers, an uncharacteristic warmth in them.

(Y/N) was unable to look away, breathless and speechless. Their faces shared a light blush, and when Roderich opened his mouth to say something as he looked upon her fondly- "D'awwwwwwwwwwwww would you look at that!!" Both Roderich and (Y/N) shot up and whirled around the piano bench falling to the ground with a clunk. In the doorway that neither noticed had opened a certain albino leaned against the door frame with arms crossed wearing the cheekiest smirk, either of them had ever seen.

After the initial moments of shock wore off, Roderich immediately launched an impressive construction of German curses at Gilbert, face beet-red, from embarrassment or fury, (Y/N) couldn't tell. Gil didn't even bother trying to deflect the onslaught of insults he just stood in the doorway, kesese'ing uncontrollably. (Y/N) hardly noticed for her face was burning quite a bit as well. "Er." She snapped back into reality to find a very neat young man with slicked-back blond hair and shocking blue eyes before her.

He seemed quite embarrassed himself but for an entirely different reason. "Sorry for my bruder." He apologized, sighing deeply. "Might you be Miss (Y/N)?" "Ah, yes, and you must be Mr. Ludwig?" She hurriedly smoothed her frazzled hair and brushed the wrinkles from her mud-stained jeans. "It's no trouble. I am quite used to his antics." Ludwig nodded relaxing a little. "I was told you need a place to stay for the night. You are quite welcome to stay here. We have a spare room ready." "Oh, are you sure? I don't want to be any trouble." "It's fine with me as long as it's fine with Aus-Roderich. Hey Roderich." He quickly turned to call out to the man scolding Gilbert.

He abruptly stopped swearing and turned to him in surprise. "Is it all right if Miss (Y/N) stays for the night?" Roderich blinked and straightened up brushing his coat off self-consciously. He glanced at her, a blush reappearing on his visage, then turned away, regaining a very haughty air. "I suppose." He sniffed adjusting his glasses. "She can stay." (Y/N)'s face split into a wide grin. For what reason, she didn't know, but she knew that all she could do was smile right then. "Thank you all for having me." She said graciously.

As Mr. Ludwig led (Y/N) away to her room, Prussia slicked over to the man Austria still cackling. "Making beautiful music together, eh, Roddy?" "Shut up, Gil."