"Hetalia!" Finland finished off his singing with a cheerful note.

All the nations were gathered in a Japanese recording studio. Japan, going by his alias Kiku Honda, had gotten a stint as an anime producer and decided to make it about the nations themselves. It wasn't technically revealing them; the show was animated after all, and who would believe that the countries of the world were personified as people? It was a ridiculous concept to normal humans. They wouldn't believe that everything in the anime (which Japan had dubbed "Hetalia") had happened exactly as they appeared to real people.

Completely ridiculous.

The show had turned into an enormous project with a plethora of writers who had decided they wanted to write songs for the show, and therefore needed to meet the people the "characters" were based off of in order to create songs faithful to their personalities. Everyone had gone in for an interview with the writers, who picked out the ones they liked best and composed a song for them. All the main characters, like Italy, Germany, and Japan himself, were already guaranteed, but as for the others, they were told on the spot that they would have a song and what they would sing. There was no rehearsal time–due to there being a lot of nations and thus quite a lot of songs–but it didn't matter much; they were all very good at improv.

Finland had discovered to his delight that he was to sing a version of the second ending theme, and performed with great excitement. He came out of the recording booth red-faced and smiling broadly.

"That was great, Finland!" everyone in the very spacious recording center congratulated. Even those who didn't have a song came to listen to (and often poke fun at) those who did, and they showed their approval through cheering. The space outside the booth was soundproofed so the singers wouldn't be disrupted by the noise.

"It was a lot of fun!" Finland grinned, walking back to his fellow Nordics and running a hand through his hair. Denmark clapped him on the back and Sweden offered mumbled words of approval. Norway just nodded, and Iceland wasn't paying attention at all. He was complaining absentmindedly to a bemused Prussia about his tourism and economy issues.

"Thank you, Finland-san," Japan said softly. He checked his list. "Um... Next we have Iceland-san."

That caught his attention. Iceland, who had been drinking from a water bottle, choked and immediately spat it out all over Prussia.

"Not awesome, dude," the albino scowled. Iceland ignored him and turned his attention to Japan.

"What do you mean, I'm next?"

Japan blinked. "Well, we're going by group, you see."

"That's not what I meant," the teenager snapped. "Why do I, of all people, have a song?"

"Don't be so shy, Ice," Denmark snickered. "I want to hear you sing. Do you practice in the shower?"

"I do not," Iceland retorted, angrily brushing his white hair out of his eyes. "What makes you think I can sing in the first place?"

"The writers liked you in the interview...the viewers seem to like you too…" Japan told him.

"No they don't!" Iceland shook his head adamantly. "They don't like me! If they did, I would probably get more tourists or something."

Prussia stood up. "Are you still on about that? I've decided! The awesome Prussia will help you out, bro!" With everyone staring, he dashed out the door. There was a beat of silence, then all eyes went back to Japan and Iceland to continue the spectacle.

"No."

"Please, Iceland-san..."

"No!"

"I think you should..." Norway said quietly. Iceland shot him a murderous glare. "Some brother you are." Turning back to Japan he asked, "How did I end up with a song?"

"I told you, they liked you."

"Stop lying."

"…they liked your puffin."

"My puffin."

"Yes."

"Your writers are idiots."

"Hey!" Mr. Puffin shouted from his perch on Iceland's head. "I helped write the damn song, so you're going to sing it!"

"That's right, he did," Japan agreed. "He wrote his own part."

"Pleeeeaaaase?" Finland begged.

"'ts not so b'd," Sweden said.

Iceland crossed his arms. "Give me one reason why I should."

"Sweden sang. England sang. Romano sang." Denmark was ticking off his fingers.

"China sang," Norway chipped in. There was a moment of silence as they recalled how the Asian had to be led out in tears after Aiyaa 4000 Years.

"Right, well," Denmark started again. "Germany sang. Hell, even Switzerland sang!"

"That's because Liechtenstein talked him into it!" Switzerland hadn't been very happy about it, either. His face was still beet-red and he was fingering his gun in a threatening manner. They quickly averted their attention.

"Let me see the lyrics," Iceland demanded. He read them and raised his eyebrows. "You want me to sing this?"

Japan nodded once in affirmation.

"In that case, NO."

"Why not, you little punk?" Mr. Puffin pecked his owner's head indignantly.

"This," Iceland waved the paper in front of the bird's face, "is nothing but blatant tourist propaganda."

"What the hell's wrong with that?" Mr. Puffin hollered. "Weren't you the one who said you wanted more tourists?"

"There is no way that tourism in Iceland would increase just by my singing," the nation shot back hotly. "And especially not from something like this!"

There was no other alternative. Iceland spun around and bolted towards the door. Denmark lunged forward and grabbed him by his jacket. He knocked the smaller boy's legs out from under him, then grabbed his ankles.

"Someone get his arms!"

America leapt out of his seat and took a firm hold on Iceland's thin wrists. Both of them dragged the thrashing, furious Iceland to the recording booth and tossed him in. Mr. Puffin fluttered in nonchalantly.

Denmark slammed the door shut, snatched the key from the table, and locked Iceland in. There was loud banging from the other side, then a small thunk as Iceland gave up and leaned against the wood in defeat. Japan slid the lyrics under the door.

Everyone watched with interest as Iceland walked to the center of the small room, put on the headset, and hissed "Fuck. You. All."

"He's gonna do it!" Denmark grinned victoriously. The other nations cheered. Iceland flipped them off through the glass.

Japan started the music while Mr. Puffin got himself situated on Iceland's head. A somewhat techno beat came up on the speakers. As it slowed down, Iceland looked directly at the Nordics and said,

"What? Were you expecting something?"

Then a deep breath.

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIceland!"

Denmark raised his eyebrows. Iceland could hold an impressively long note, and the kid didn't have a half-bad voice either.

"You must be thinking it's pretty cold, right? It's not as cold as you think it is!

The other nations were beginning to look impressed as well. With Iceland's normal attitude, nobody would guess he could sing with emotion. Iceland managed to keep up the feel of the song while still looking thoroughly pissed.

"There's so much good things waiting in Iceland!

The midnight sun in summer, the aurora shining in winter.

Our public order is of the highest class!

Our food and cooking is delicious! Much different from that other country nearby!"

Iceland made eye contact with England and rolled his eyes. The Brit flushed crimson and moved to stand up, but was forcibly pulled back into his seat by France.

"Hey hey!" Mr. Puffin cut in. Iceland glanced up at him, confused at the interruption. "Hey, wait..."

"Aren't you forgetting the most important thing?"

"Stop it…"

The smooth melody suddenly turned to death metal.

"I'm the mascot!" the puffin screamed. "Too cute to be true! The ocean perriot! They call me Puffin! The O is Chahradrilformes! Family: Alcidae! Genus: Fracterula!"

Iceland massaged his temples while amused onlookers giggled.

"What's special about me? They say I look like a penguin, but what they can't do is freaking fly in the sky! Now, let's be a couple."

"Everyone's hating you, you know?" Iceland sighed. The puffin brought his beak down onto Iceland's head with a painful peck. "Like hell they are!" There was a split-second break in the music in which the two glared at each other, then they began singing together, their voices creating an unusual harmony.

"Let's chug down some awesome Brennevin!"

"Yeah, damn good stuff," Mr. Puffin commented.

Let's take a dip into the Blue Lagoon!" Iceland turned slightly pink at this and muttered "What? Were you expecting something?" Then he was suddenly singing alone.

"The country of volcanoes, icebergs, and hot springs await!"

The other nations outside began cheering loudly then.

"Velkominn to Iceland!"

The singing cut off there. Iceland said

"The Icelandic language hasn't changed much in almost a century. I wonder if it's because we're separated from any continents."

"Speaking of history," Mr. Puffin joined in, "if you examine your ancestors, you're blood bros with that really snarky guy!"

Outside the booth, Norway smirked and mouthed "Oniichan" towards his brother.

"They are getting amazingly off track," Japan said, exasperated. "There isn't supposed to be any dialogue here."

"Stop it," Iceland was saying. "I would have preferred it if I was a descendent of a legendary tribe of native people."

The puffin laughed brashly. "You say that, but you two look alike, you know!" He then dodged the punch his owner aimed at his body and screeched "PUNK!"

The music abruptly switched to calm again, and Iceland lowered his eyes to the lyric sheet.

"Iceland is waiting for you," he sang in a low, smooth voice. "We'll open up more sightseeing tours! I want to show you more and more of this giant, unknown Earth we live in. Thingvellir's Silfra fissure. The golden falls, Gulfoss. The Strokkur geyser gets its heat from the magma."

Iceland glanced up at Japan with a "Really?" expression in his face.

"I see what he means about the tourist propaganda," Finland said in amazement. Those nearby nodded their agreement.

The music switched to metal.

"Man, man," Mr. Puffin interrupted again. "I knew I shouldn't have left this to you!"

"What?"

The question was ignored as Mr. Puffin began his ranting once more. "This red ribbon is way to freaking adorable! Gimme your sing time now! I am Puffin! Puffin!"

Iceland rubbed his eyes.

"My stuffed toy can also become a magnet! The perfect gift for all ages! They may call me small fry and all that, but I'm a protected species, baby! I can swim in the ocean and when it comes to fishing I am super frakking awesome! Even my monotone body and brilliant beak is pimping!"

His voice pitched lower. "Now, let's make a colony!"

"That is not happening!" Iceland snapped at him. Puffin gave him a 'whatever' look and the two began the duet once more.

"Let's chow down on some great licorice! Let's go look around the Golden Circle!"

"I'll show you around," Iceland mumbled. Then,

"The country of volcanoes, icebergs, and hot springs await!"

"Velkominn to Iceland!"

The two pitched together for the finale.

"Velkominn to Icelaaaand!"

The music switched to a soft "la la lalala". Iceland removed the headset, panting slightly.

"I've never thought of it as strange before," he said, "but it seems that most of the other countries have a surname or title attached to their name."

"Oh, oh, you mean something like 'Adorable Puffin?"

"I think it's different than that."

"Oh! Then is it something like "I wanna hug de puffin?"

The teenager grimaced. "No. You're annoying. Shut up."

"Now I got it!" Mr. Puffin announced. "It's 'I vant to go on a date with the puffin!' right?"

"That's wrong in so many ways." Iceland sighed. "My back and fingers hurt…"

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Iceland pulled it out and read a new text. His violet eyes widened in surprise.

"Hmm? Oh. It looks like there are a few more people visiting."

"See?" his puffin said arrogantly. "They obviously came because of my super adorableness, right?"

"Don't expect an agreement from me," Iceland deadpanned. "Let's see…it's probably because of Prussia's help."

The bird dug his talons into Iceland's scalp. "What the hell?" he shrieked. "You need to learn how to admit it when people are right! I'm one hundred trillion times cuter than that dude, you punk!"

Iceland rolled his eyes. "Really? Still, I have more tour customers now." He laughed a little. "Lucky!"

The two waited for the music to fade out completely before making their way to the door. Denmark unlocked and opened it.

"There," he smiled. "Was that so–"

The Dane was cut off by Iceland's fist flying through the open door and nailing him in the face. Denmark stumbled back, his nose spouting blood.

Iceland strode through the door surrounded by a thick black aura, grabbed the front of Denmark's shirt, and pulled him down to eye level.

"If you pull anything like that again, I will make certain to personally throw you in the biggest active volcano I can find," he snarled, his voice thick with fury. Releasing his grip on the taller blond's now bloody shirt, Iceland spun on his heel and borderline ran out of the studio.

There was a beat of shocked silence, then all the nations burst into applause.

A/N:

Haha. I love With Love From Iceland. It's one of my favorite Hetalia songs (though it isn't the catchiest. Say it with me now: Buono tomato~)

I love Ice's complete inability to stay on topic while he's singing. He just goes off on random tangents.

Ayumu Asakura's voice is HOT.

Iceland and his song belong to the guys who made Hetalia, i.e. Himaruya and co. I got the lyrics from BeyondXBirthdayXFan on deviantART.

Thank you for reading and please review! :D