This heat is too much. I don't know how I'm supposed to make it through the summer alive. I've finally graduated highschool, but the heat might be enough to kill me before I even get the chance to go to college. Oh well, that way I don't have to worry about my school work ever again.

I look back at the screen of my laptop. The words aren't flowing like any other day, usually I have a hard time keeping up with the words racing through my mind, but today... today they seem to want a vacation. I sigh and close the laptop, I head to the bathroom just down the hall from my room.

The cool water loosens me up a bit, makes it easier to think, as apposed to the grogginess I felt in the humidity of my bedroom. Hopefully I'll be able get over my writer's block after this shower. If not, I'll probably end up watching anime until late at night when words are always the most playful.

It's just a good thing this novel doesn't need to be finished before the end of the summer, with only two months of it, I'd be in complete chaos. No, I'm waiting another year before heading off to college. Not that I don't have any money and need to work to save up, of course not. My parents are filthy rich. They really don't treat that power very well, though. But I could get into college myself, with all the profit from my previous novels.

When I finally step out of the shower, I'm instantly hit by the heat again, with this humidity, it'll be hours before the long, black locks dangling from my head will be dry again, so I pull it all back and braid it. With the haircut I have, my bangs manage to stay out of the tangled braid and fall neatly around my face. I pull my shorts up to my waist after tossing on my underwear, then pull on the light orange tank top.

I head straight for my laptop, determined to get something added onto the story before the humidity takes over my mind again. I set my hands at the keyboard, but I realize something was out of place when I came into the room. I slowly turn in my chair, scanning the room for the disturbance.

There are two grown men standing in the middle of my room, both wearing different military uniforms. One blonde, and much taller than his friend, and the other and brown-and-red-headed guy. Though I don't really pay attention to those facts at first, only the fact that they are trespassing.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" I yell at them.

"No! Wait! This is just a mis-" The taller one tries to tell me.

"A mistake? Oh, are you trying to tell me you just accidentally walked in here, thinking it was your own home? 'Cause there aren't that many houses around here as big and fancy as this! So it's a bit hard to believe!"

"No! I wasn't trying to say that!" He says, I realize he has some kind of an accent. German? I think so. I'm not very good with accents.

"Wait, I know you," I've long ago figured out who they are, I'm just taking a bit too long to process it, "You're Germany. And you're Italy." I tell them, still not believing it myself.

"How do you know that?" Germany asks, just as dumbfounded as me.

"Well, if I knew personified countries were real, for sure, then it would be a bit obvious, just from your looks and accent alone. So, you are the real thing?"

"Yes?"

"Ah, you know who I am?" Italy squeals with happiness.

"Of course! Who wouldn't know the one and only North Italy?" I smile back, flattering him a bit more than I intended, if I had even meant to at all, "How did you get here?"

"How do you know what we are?" Germany asks, completely ignoring my question.

"You should answer my question first!" I demand.

Germany pauses for a minute, trying to collect his thoughts, "I don't even remember most of what happened..."

"I do!" Italy cries out, trying to be helpful, "We were at America's house, I think it was America, and England tried some of his magic for some reason and we all went poof! Now we're here!" He explains, hand gestures included.

"That's right..." Germany says, his memories coming back to him.

"So where are the others?" I ask.

"I don't know," Italy shrugs.

"I wonder if it's possible they appeared some where else in on my property..." I head for the door, but Germany stops me.

"You didn't tell me how you know about us," he tells me.

"I'd rather only have to explain it once, how 'bout we find the others first?" I suggest, he nods and they both follow me into the hall, "Who else was with you?"

"Let's see..."

"Japan was there! And big brother France! Russia, America, China and that scary England!" Italy tells me.

"Alrighty then," I lead them down the grand staircase like it's found in any other house, they look at everything, stunned by the complexity and detail of my home. I honestly have no idea where to start looking first, so I head for the kitchen, I'd be drawn to the kitchen if I just appeared in some random place. That's where the food is kept. I would need food.

For a first guess, I was right on, as I reach to push the door open, I hear voices arguing inside.

"You wanker! You don't just eat other people's food without asking!" I hear one of them say in a British accent.

"Ugh, but I'm so hungry," A Frenchman replies, "And the pasta looks so appetizing!"

"Pasta?" Italy's attention is immediately caught and he bursts into the kitchen. Germany and I follow him.

"Italy! There you are! We were getting a bit worried!" France says as Italy runs in, searching for the pasta.

"Liar, you were only worried about your stomach." England tells us. I pull open a drawer and dig out a fork for Italy, then point out the container of left over pasta he was beginning to worry didn't exist.

"Ah, who is this?" France ignores England and is at my side a second later.

"Ebony." I tell him.

"Ah, such a beautiful name," He takes my hand and kisses it gently, in an attempt to charm me.

"France, you better behave yourself, this is probably her house," England tells him.

"Is it really all yours? It is so big! You must get very lonely sometimes," He gets closer to me, he's starting to freak me out a little, I'm surprised I've held myself together this long with so many guys around. Not to mention, they're also the guys that I'm almost constantly fan-girling over.

"No, it's my parents'. And I'm sure they'll be home any minute, by the way," That makes him back off a little, "So, where's Japan, America, China and Russia?"

"I don't know, we haven't seen them at all. Something tells me they're not in here, though."

"The backyard, then, maybe?" I continue through the kitchen, through the living room and through the patio door. The four boys follow me like lost puppies.

The last four are standing in the middle of my backyard, curiously looking around the yard. Wait, no, there's five. Who's the last one?

I approach the group swiftly, recognizing each of their faces. The fifth was, of course, Canada, the idiots completely forgot about him.

"There they are." Russia points out the four that follow me to his comrades.

"Who're you?" America asks me, I know he's just wondering, but it comes out a bit more rude than I think he intended.

"I'm Ebony. And you're America, right?" I already know the answer, but I have to be sure, it still hasn't sunk in quite yet...

"Y- Yeah." He looks at me, more confused than he probably ever has been before now.

"Speaking of that, how did you know?" Germany comes up behind me and asks the question again, this time much more stubbornly.

"I watch a show, and it's all about you guys!" I blurt out.

"Wow, really?" England says after a moment.

"See? I told you guys I'm the hero!. The hero always has his own show!" America laughs.

"It's not entirely about you, America, sorry to burst your bubble, but it's mostly about the Axis."

"I'm not in every episode then?"

"Nope."

"Well that's gotta be one boring show!" America huffed.

"Actually, I find it really funny. I'll show you guys, if you want." I suggest. They all agree quickly, eager to see the anime solely based off them and their friends.

I place the disc I bought with the first of my profits from my books into the DVD player, the boys arrange themselves on the couch. Once most of them are squished together on the sofa, I'm stuck sitting on the loveseat next to them with Germany.

As we watch the first episode, where Germany and Italy first meet, I can't help but only stare at them.

"Is that really us?" Germany asks, he's having as hard of a time believing it as me.

"Is that what really happened?" I wonder.

"Yes."

"Then I guess it must be." I say, I think it was a bit rude, the way I said it, but it was definatly not on purpose, Germany's always been one of my favourites, I wouldn't want to hurt his feelings.

Wait, Germany, Ludwig Beilschmidt, is sitting right next to me. One of my all time favourite characters.

I nervously curl up in a ball, resting my chin on my knees, as I glance at Germany every once in a while. He seems fixated on the television. Which is good, if he tries to strike up a conversation with me, I'm going to be screwed. He'll think I'm annoying, or stupid, or useless, or annoying...

What the hell am I supposed to do now?