A songbird's tune echoed across the courtyard, and a light breeze played with the tree's delicate leaves.

Natalya inhaled the soft scent of a blossoming flower, and her lips twitched, her Cheshire Cat grin returning.

Last night, Brother had attempted to hit her with his pipe just as the girl predicted, but she ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

She spent the night in a nearby park and nearly froze to death. But it was worth it. If it meant she could throw out the old, and bring in the new, it will all be worth it.

It was a gorgeous morning, colors of all hues dancing upon her eyes, like a painting on display. The damp dew drops clinging to blades of grass, the baby blue sky with a sea of puffy white clouds, and the daisies blooming from the cracks in the old mossy stone that was laid upon the court.

The Belarusian giggled, and stood on one foot, and began to twirl. Her wavy blue maid's dress swirled like a raging sea around her body, and her hair fluttered about freely.

She felt like a princess, like from the fairytale books she used to read when she was little, or how brother had called her one such a long long time ago.

But she wasn't his princess anymore. Her prince was the American man who she was patiently waiting for here on a perfect spring morning.

He had crowded her thoughts throughout the whole frigid night, setting her heart aflame. It had been a long time since she felt that hope and love in her heart. It was so strong, and no one could distinguish the flames.

Suddenly, she saw a crowd of people enter the courtyard, chatter filling the once quiet atmosphere. In the sea of nations, she saw her brother. She saw his pastel scarf flow behind him, a single, but messy, stitch across the surface of it.

She had forgotten that his scarf had been ripped. But it no longer mattered to her, just like she didn't matter to brother anymore.

"Hey! I swear to god! You cheated!" She heard a voice scream, cutting through the chatter like a knife through butter.

She snapped her head toward the noise, and saw two men emerge from the crowd. She watched a curl swing from side to side on one of their heads, and a cowlick bounce up and down on the other.

"I did not cheat!" the familiar voice of the American responded. Canada bit his lip and rolled his eyes.

In each of the boy's hands was a strange shaped object, spinning constantly, the center of it gripped between their fingers. America's object was painted to look like the American flag, while Canada's was painted like his national flag.

"You sure did! You spun yours after mine! We were supposed to spin our fidget spinners at the same time!" Canada snapped, halting his object to a stop with his finger. America did the same.

"Don't point fingers Mattie. You're just jealous because my fidget spinner is cooler!" The American laughed.

Canada turned a bright red, and looked like he wanted to maul him alive.

Suddenly, she saw the British man, known as Arthur, glare at them from across the courtyard.

"What are you boys doing!?" England yelled to them, pushing through the crowd of chattering people.

"We're having a fidget spinner race. Whichever one spins the longest wins," Alfred explained, showing his spinner to the Brit.

"How ridiculous and childish of you. I excepted more out of you two boys. Instead of filling out paperwork with the free time you have, you waste it with this nonsense! I thought I raised you two better than that!" England exclaimed, reaching over to snatch America's fidget spinner. He plucked it from his hand, and chucked it to the ground in disgust.

"Chill out Iggy! We were only gonna do like one round," Alfred whined, picking up the piece of plastic, and clutching it in the palm of his hand, then shoving it into his jacket pocket.

"Yes but still Alfred," England began. "You're both practically adults, and you shouldn't be playing with such childish things when you have responsibility!"

America let out an annoyed sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah I know! I handle my responsibilities just fine! I'm the hero for crying out loud! And it's not childish. It's fun! I do this kinda stuff so I don't turn into a grump like you!"

Arthur snorted, giving the boy an amused look. "Open your eyes, lad! You're struggling with the rather simple responsibilities you have. It's nothing compared to what I need to do everyday."

As Natalya watched the scene play out before her eyes, she found herself growing angry. Alfred took a step forward and jabbed a finger into the Brit's torso. "I'm only 19! Do you expect me to suddenly just grow up to be the most mature adult out there?!"

The English man swatted away America's hand and folded his arms across his chest, and leaned on his right leg.

"For a 19 year old, you should be more mature, and have more smarts. Too much brawn, not enough brains. Maybe if you held back on all those greasy foods, you may develop a brain in there."

As the Brit finished his sentence, Natalya clenched her fists. How dare he insult America like that. No one would push him down like that. No one. And she'd never let anyone even so much as lay a finger on him. He was her's, and her's only!

Before the British man could let another smart remark slip from his mouth, the Belarusian struck.

She slid her blade out from underneath her dress, and took a running start. The British man couldn't react quick enough, because the girl crashed onto his small body, causing the two to topple to the ground.

The two twins jumped backward and watched as the Belarusian put one hand around England's neck and squeezed, and held her blade to his flesh with the other.

"Woah! Natalya?!" America gasped, taking a step closer. His eyes widened when he saw the glint of the silver blade against the elder's neck.

"P-put that down," America begged.

She ignored him and focused back on the English man, her eyes consumed with anger.

"Take it back!" She screeched, pressing the blade softly into his flesh. England began to choke, and desperately clutched her hand around his neck with his, trying to pry her fingers from his flesh. She didn't budge.

"Take....take b-back what?" Arthur managed to choke out, cringing at the cold blade cutting his skin.

She leaned in closer and squeezed tighter at his neck.

"What you said about Amieryka!" She barked.

The English man only shot her a bemused look, still desperately trying to pry her fingers from his neck.

Before she had the chance to squeeze any tighter, or put the knife through his flesh, she felt a pair of hands wrap around her waist, and tug her back.

She felt her knife topple to the ground, and her grip around Arthur's neck slip away. She fell back and landed on something solid, the hands still wrapped around her. She heard a grunt beneath her, and she turned her head to see what she landed on.

The American had his arms wrapped around her waist, and was sprawled out on the ground, Texas flung to the side.

Her eyes widened, and she quickly climbed off the man. How could she let that happen?

Alfred clutched his side for a moment, and squeezed his eyes shut. She reached out a hand, but hesitated.

How could she let her dear American get hurt? But the English man needed to pay for what he said about America.....

Alfred sat up, and stared at Belarusian in shock. "What was all that for?" He asked, carefully inching toward her.

She refused to make eye contact with his strong blue eyes, and fiddled with a strip of her long hair between her fingertips.

"He needs to pay," She simply whispered.

Alfred gave her a bemused look, and nibbled softly on his lip. "Pay for what?"

The Belarusian girl lunged forward and grabbed America by his collar. She tugged him closer, and stared into his eyes.

"For what he said about you!" She screeched, gripping his collar tighter, spittles of saliva flying from her mouth. Alfred scrunched up his face and tried to back away. She still gripped his collar.

"No one should say such things to you dear Amieryka!" She barked, tugging him a bit closer. Alfred's mouth opened, but then immediately closed, lost completely with words.

"What?! That's ridiculous! Artie had said meaner things! And I'm used to it! A lot of people talk crap about me!"

Natalya's eye began to twitch, and she slowly loosened her grip from his collar.

"Who has said these things about you?" She growled, her eyes beginning to turn to a darker hue.

Alfred's eyes widen, and he mentally scolded himself for revealing this to her.

"W-what?!" he exclaimed, scooting away from the girl. She crawled a couple steps toward him, one of her amethyst crystals covered underneath a curtain of wild blonde hair, and the other piercing into Alfred.

She heard the terrified shriek of the Canadian behind her, and clumsy footsteps growing farther and farther away.

"Dammit Matthew," She heard the American whisper to himself. She suddenly reached forward and grabbed his lime green tie, tugging him forward.

She reached for her blade that was laying beside her, and brought it gently to his neck. "Tell me what I must do to satisfy you Amierkya," She whispered, leaning in close to the confused man, and placing her lips near his ear.

"Amierkya," She cooed, bringing the blade a bit closer to his neck. Alfred retracted his neck back, but choked as the tie strangled him. "We can become one, da?" She giggled, letting his tie slip from her fingers, but the blade just barely pressing against his skin.

"P-pardon me?" The American choked, eyeing the knife carefully. This only made Natalya giggle with pleasure.

"Let us be married. We can be together forever, da?"

America's eyes widened, and he quickly shot back, the knife just barely making a cut in his flesh. He cringed at the contact of the blade against his skin, but it only lasted for a moment. He scrambled to his feet, and took yet another step back.

Natalya sprung to her feet as well, and let her blade drop to the ground beside her.

"Do not be afraid. It is only me." Natalya assured, striding toward the American, her heels clicking against the mossy stones of the courtyard. Alfred bit his lip, a lump appearing in his throat.

"Belarus...this isn't funny anymore. You're really kinda scaring me, believe it or not. So uh...you can stop now," he said, taking a cautious step forward, and putting his hands out in front of him, prepared for what she would do next.

This only made her giggle even more. "You can be so cute at times Alfred." She sighed in a lovesick tone. "So helpless and soft."

Alfred flinched, and let a frown spread upon his face. "This isn't cool man. Seriously, you just hurt me with your knife and hurt Artie." He snapped, taking one of her pale hands into his, and tugging her forward. She reverted her eye contact, her bangs sliding over her other eye, covering her gaze from him. A large grin appeared across her lips, an intoxicating glow shimmering from her white teeth.

Alfred's confident poise shriveled into a nervous slouch, and he quickly let her hand go, arching back an inch.

"Ms.Belarus?" She heard a concerned voice linger behind her.

She swirled around on her heels, and faced the sound of the voice. The blonde Estonian she knew as Eduard, was standing beside another concerned, brown-haired man, who she knew as Toris.

"What are you doing to America?" Toris gasped, reaching out a hand to the blonde girl. She scowled at Lithuania, and reached down beside her for her blade.

"Leave me alone," She demanded, causing the poor Baltic to shudder. Estonia tugged Toris back and shook his head.

"M-maybe we should go get your brother," Eduard nervously suggested, Toris nodding in agreement.

Her eyes widened at the mention of brother, and she took a step back, closer to Alfred.

America only shot back, practically tripping over his own feet.

"Ms. Belarus. Your sister and brother are curious about your absence from them. P-please come along so we can proceed to prepare for today's meeting," Estonia squeaked, fiddling with his hands nervously, and then reaching up to push his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose.

"Nyet," She growled, taking yet another step toward America. This time he only stared at her wide-eyed.

She shot a hand out for his arm, smiling with pleasure as she found the soft and squishy fabric of his bomber jacket in her fingers. She lightly tugged the American toward her, and surprisingly, he did not resist. He ever so gently crashed up against her small form, and she felt herself begin to blush. She giggled and quickly nuzzled her head into his chest. His heartbeat was increasing, and she lifted her hand up to trace a finger across his chest, sighing with even more pleasure. But Alfred was far from content about this. He had never been so confused in his whole life.

Estonia and Lithuania both cocked their heads to the side, and exchanged bemused glances.

"Now I will give you to the count of three," Belarus began, lifting her head from Alfred's bulging chest, and readying a shiny knife in her hand, pointing it toward the two Baltic states. "To walk away, and leave me and my Amieryka alone."

Toris screeched with fear and leapt back behind Estonia, who was also in a hectic state.

"One...." Natalya hissed, letting Alfred's arm slip from her grasp. "Two...."

At this point, Lithuania had already scrambled away, but Estonia bravely, but pathetically, still stood his ground. She strode forward and twirled the knife through her fingertips. She then gripped it firmly and arched her arm back, ready to aim and throw.

"Three!" She shrieked, jerking her arm forward, the knife flying from her hand. The knife soared through the air. Estonia screamed and jumped back, as the knife planted itself into the stone just inches from his feet.

But he did not run away like little Toris did. She reached into another fold of her dress for another blade, ready to throw again, but this time hopefully, straight through Eduard's skull. If he were smart, he would have walked away like Lithuania did.

"Eduard! There you are!"

She flinched. That voice....

No...it can't be him.

A pastel scarf fluttered in front of trembling Estonia, and cold violet eyes pierced her's. She took a step back, and let her blade she had just retrieved, slip from her hands.

"Ivan," she growled coldly.

"Sister," He responded, lifting his chin up just a bit. God those eyes were making her outraged.

"What are you doing to poor Eduard?" He snapped, gripping Estonia's shoulder tightly. Eduard squeaked as the Russian touched him, but he still remained calm, telling himself Russia was simply here to protect him.

"He was interfering," Natalya simply said, brushing a bang from her eye. Russia tilted his head to the side and gave her an intrigued stare. "With what?" He asked.

Natalya let her expression slip into a cold glare, her fists clutching handfuls of her frilly dress. "With my love!" She bellowed, causing Eduard to scuttle back, eventually tripping, then falling onto his behind. Russia quickly turned around to see what happened to the blonde, and then faced back toward his sister.

"For the last time sister.....I will never ever marry you." He growled through clenched teeth, reaching up to pull his scarf up closer to his face. Then, he proceeded to tug something from his coat, and clutch it in his hands. The glint of the metal instantly told her it was his infamous pipe. "Perhaps....you need a reminder," He hissed, twirling the pipe in his hand, eventually then pointing it straight at her. It still had a speck of blood painted on its surface. America's blood.

"I would never love a monster such as you," Belarus whispered, reaching down for the blade that rested on the ground beside her.

Russia's glare disappeared, and with a clang, his metal pipe plummeted to the ground. "W-what?" Ivan gasped, taking a step back, and reaching down for Estonia's hand, pulling him up, but eyes still glued on her.

"I said I would never love a monster such as you!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, stomping a few feet forward. Russia suddenly squeaked and jumped back, tripping over poor Estonia, causing the two to tumble back down to Earth, Russia landing right on top of Eduard, squishing the poor man. "You threw me out as if I were garbage big brother!" Belarus began, suddenly feeling hot liquid in her eyes. "I tried to love you, but you were cruel and rotten! You are cold and lifeless, and no one will love you brother! I will never love you again!"

At this point, tears began to spill from her wide eyes, and she collapsed to the ground, and let out an angry sob, that had sounded more like a scream. Russia titled his head to the side, completely lost in confusion now. The Baltic state laying underneath him squeaked with fear, and buried his hands in his face, too terrified to keep watching the scene play before them.

Her sad frown ceased, and her lips curled into a bright smile, making Russia shudder.

"But," she whispered, in a sing song tone. "I have my own to love. And he will love me back. We will be one until time has ended, and he will be mine."

She giggled, and placed her pale hands across her cheeks, feeling the hot blush on them burn at her skin. "My sweet dear Amieryka." She sang, completely lost in lovesick thoughts dancing through her head.

Russia's confusion melted away, and it was replaced with a cold glare. She could tell he was mad. She had fallen in love with his enemy. This was the one thing he would never want to happen. And now, Belarus would practically get on her knees and worship him. He could use her against him, and take him down.

"No!" Russia exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. Belarus's smile ceased, and she frowned. "What?" She growled, slowly lowering her hands from her cheeks. Russia flinched for a moment, but did not let his frown dissolve. "Stay away from that-that.....that pig!" He exclaimed, stomping his foot down, causing the ground beneath him to tremble. "He is foolish and pathetic! He is our enemy, and I forbid you to see that idiot!."

He should have kept his mouth shut.

"You are the fool!" She screamed, causing the whole courtyard to go silent. Russia felt as if his legs would give out at any second. "He is mine! You cannot tell me what to do! Because I hate you! And you will not stop me from seeing him! I love him more than anything in this whole world!"

She scooped up her knife, and without even aiming, chucked it at the Russian. Ivan's eyes widened, and he dived to the ground, the knife grazing above his platinum blonde hair. She had been completely pushed to the edge.

Like an animal, she leapt forward, and pounced on Ivan. He screamed and threw a fist forward, hoping it would land somewhere. He felt it hit something hard, and the Belarusian yelped in surprise. She tumbled back, and clutched an area between her eye and the bridge of her nose. Her pupils were the size of peas, and they were completely bloodshot, consumed in insanity.

"I hate you so much!" She yelled. She did not leap forward this time. Russia scrambled to his feet, and tugged Estonia to his feet.

"Let's go," Estonia squeaked, as the Russian gripped his arm in his giant hand, scurrying away. She slowly rose to her feet, a hand still clutched to her injury.

Her eyes watched as he ran farther and farther away, until she reverted them to stare back at where America was-

Where Alfred once was, only stood her knife laying on the ground. He was gone. She clenched her teeth so hard, they could have cracked from the pressure. How could she let him get away!? She should have kept a closer eye on him. He had most likely slipped away during her little "scene with Russia".

She plucked the knife from the ground, and pressed it tightly in her palm. She needed to get him back. She wouldn't let him go that easily. He still had to become one with her. But she still had to figure out how......

But it would work. And she would get what she wanted. She slid her knife back into one of the many fold of her maid's dress, and proceeded to stride forward, her heels practically crushing the ground beneath her.

Suddenly, her angered eyes landed upon a figure laying on the ground. England had not moved from his spot, his eyes squeezed shut, and mumbling words she couldn't make out. She growled and swung a foot forward to brush up against the English man's face. His startled emerald green eyes shot open, and he quickly scooted back. "I take it back!" He assured, planting his hands over his eyes, too scared to see what Natalya would do next. "Where is he?" She growled, her intoxicating teeth gleaming from her lips as she clenched her teeth. Arthur flinched, and he slowly lowered his hand from his face. His eyebrows shot up, and he stared at her incoherently. "W-what?" He whispered. She was losing patience. She brought out the knife from her dress, and pointed it right at Arthur. He sucked in a giant breath of air, and quickly choked. He threw a fist into his chest and repeated this until he could grasp air in his lungs again.

"Where is he?" She barked. "If you have not moved from this spot, than you must have seen where my America had gone! Tell me where he is!"

Arthur's terrified expression suddenly morphed into a nervous and angered glare. "W-what are you going to do with him?" Arthur demanded, bracing himself up on his elbows, and craning his neck forward. Of course he was going to ask that. He was practically Alfred's father. But she wouldn't let someone like Arthur stand in the way of true love. She wouldn't let anyone stop her from conquering what her heart wanted. And her heart was set on the American boy she badly wanted to be hers.

She brought the knife down to his neck, causing him to lose his angry glare. "Tell me where he went!" She demanded, prepared to reach a hand out to strangle the British man again. England has already been traumatized enough, because he immediately cracked. "The bathroom! He told me that he was going to the bathroom!" He confessed, falling onto his back, and squeezing his eyes shut.

The Belarusian did not hesitate. She quickly slipped the knife away and swiveled toward the entrance.

"I'm sorry Alfred," She heard Arthur whisper. She began to giggle, as she strode toward the entrance, Everyone was completely silent, stepping out of her way, giving her a pathway toward the door. She flashed a a small grin, satisfied with the fear pulsing around her. She was now the most powerful.

And if the nations trembled before her, then America would be easier than ever to crack.