A/N: I said I will write fluff. It turns out I can't stop thinking of this kind of genre. Um… I'm just confused why most of the fics I have read Philippines and Spain are always in a good relationship when the history between the two was not ah…that pleasant.

America's party always expected to be a wild night especially when alcohols were started to serve. As usual, every nation was invited and even England was not safe for he was dragged unwillingly by their host. Another Christmas party with their own kind, another year that would be over in the next few days, and another year to come, this were the days that all of them valued dearly. Days where they could just relaxed and be happy with the presence of other Nations without the fear of war. It was their momentary fairy tale and all of them knew that one night their clock would soon struck twelve.

Spain excused himself from the starting chaos. England, France, Germany, and Prussia were the first to get drunk. The first two mentioned were already stripping off their clothes and was desperately being stopped by others who did not want to see something that would give them nightmares. Germany started clinging on his older brother and refused to let go despite Italy's incessant whining. Prussia just watched in amusement, the albino might just be pretending to be drunk in the first place.

Finally having a breath of fresh air from the balcony, Spain noticed he was not alone. Leaning on the wall and staring at the moon was one of the Asian countries that Spain knew very much for they had a long history between them.

"Buena noches, Filipinas!" Spain still had this small hope that his previous colony, one of his so called sons, forgave his past actions.

"Oh great, I finally got away from America only to be stuck with you. What do you want, España?"

From the way the man spat his name like a curse it was blatantly displayed that Philippines still hated him. Worst of all, Spain knew that the one Philippines hated was him, the personification, and not the land mass or his people that he had represented.

"Oh come on! It's a party! Let's not start a fight! Where is your pride as one of the happiest country in the world?"

"Went down the drain when I saw your face." The answer was fast. No time was wasted in stating what he really felt at the moment. He never cared how his words would affect his former 'boss'.

"Filipinas," Spain started massaging his forehead to prevent somehow the incoming headache, "Please, let's not fight."

"I won't fight you. I'm weak remember? I can't defeat you. I can't defeat anyone. All I can do is be always on defense." It was the truth. And the truth hurts more than any countless lies.

"It's been a hundred years now, Filipinas. We already forgive Germany for what he had done. Can't you leave the past between us also?" Spain really wanted to start anew with one of his sons. Romano was the only one he managed to raise like his own child; he never had the same opportunity with his younger colonies.

"If it's any consolation, you're not the only one I hate. I hate a lot of countries and you know why."

Again, he was right. When he had first discovered Philippines the young country was an angel. The small Asian was very kind and hospitable, he always laugh despite facing sorrows. He always tried to see the positive side of things.

But everyone was bound to change.

Spain was mad with power that time. When he had already claimed Philippines as his things went downward from there. In a sense the archipelagic country was robbed too many times to be counted, not just by Spain but by other countries also like America and Japan. His land was used as battle grounds, his people were killed in wars he didn't want to participate, his resources were used by outsiders and not by his own people, and his government was corrupted in the first place. Philippines was bound to hate a lot of them sooner or later just like any country. Worst of all, Philippines sometimes hated himself for not being strong enough for his own people.

"Mi hijo…"

"Don't"the anger was concealed but Spain could still feel it so he stopped talking for a moment, "Don't ever call me your son."

"You were my son. I still see you as my son."

"I'm not Romano. He is your son. South Italy was and still is your son not me. I'm just a servant no you might even saw me as a slave. What do you used to call me before? Ah! Indio."

This, was what Spain wanted to avoid. The opening of old wounds.

"Our people might already forget the pain of the past but I still remember everything. You were never a father to me España. You were my boss. Just like how America will never be a real friend to me and just like how Japan will never heal the wounds he gave to me." Philippines smiled at him but it didn't hold any humor. It was an empty smile, there was no happiness or dark musings, "We will never have a real family, España. You already know this. All of us personified nations, especially those considered as super powers and the previous empires, are rotten to the core. We are not saints no matter how much we practice our own religions. We kill, we murder, we steal, we lie, just like how we love, care, and protect."

"You loved Romano as a son and you treated me as a servant. He saw all your good sides and I saw your madness. You can't erase the past, España. If you consider yourself as my parent then I am afraid it would make you as an abusive one. Forget your illusions España. We can talk if it is something politically related but aside from that, I don't want to interact with you longer than I needed be."With that, Spain was left alone. His companion became lost in the midst of all the guests.

"I just want to make amends…"

Alone in the night, he shed a few tears. His only witness was the full moon staring down upon him.

"I just want to make amends…"