PLEASE READ! Amihan Dizon is an OC of my own creation that represents The Philippines. This story is an AU in which all of the Hetalia cast are in University- PLEASE REMEMBER THIS OR ELSE YOU WILL BE REALLY BLOODY CONFUSED. Amihan's past is an interpretation of actual historical events. These events will be explained in more detail in the author note at the end of this chapter. Even though they are not popular, I hope you can give this OC of mine a chance, and possibly learn some history while you're at it. Please enjoy.

"Anong laking hirap kung pagka-iisipin
Ang gawang umibig sa babaeng mahinhin"

-What a hardship it is to consider
The act of loving a modest woman-

Amihan sang quietly to herself as she chopped carrots. It was nearly 11 at night, but she was just now making dinner. She sighed, "Such is the life of a college student, I guess." It was her own fault for waiting until the last minute to finish her paper anyway. She had been hanging around Alfred too much and had started to neglect her schoolwork.

She paused at the thought and then turned to look around her apartment; it was empty now, she was alone.

She frowned for a second and then turned back to her dinner.

It didn't use to be like this, she thought, washing potatoes now; she could remember when she had constant company- constant affection…

("I want to leave you, Antonio.")

It wasn't that she had been unhappy when she was with Antonio, because she had been- she had been for a long time. Antonio was kind and optimistic and passionate even when life got hard. When Amihan had first moved to England to live with her grandparents in Primary School she had spoken very little English- only Spanish and Tagalog- and had not been able to make very many friends. It was then that she had met him, Antonio, a boy who spoke in a tongue that she could understand, and he took it upon himself to teach her all of the things she didn't know. Soon enough he began to dote on her.

It seemed natural enough that even after she had begun to fit in with her peers she stayed with Antonio. By then they had became close friends and she didn't really even see the point in straying from him- all of the friends she had made were friends she knew through him, and she still found herself too shy to venture out and make new ones. It seemed even more natural that, upon her second year of knowing him, they began to date.

Dating him was simple; any pre-pubescent awkwardness she had been told to expect did not apply to their relationship. It was not as if they did not spend all of their time together already. And it was not as if they ever did anything so affectionate as kiss in public. To Amihan… dating him was something that was unavoidable, as if it had been set before her as an order from the gods. She still enjoyed it though; she did truly like Antonio, even if she sometimes felt like she was still being treated as the young girl who couldn't stand up for herself. Despite how she felt looking back on it, in those days she could have said that she was truly happy.

It wasn't until her second year of Secondary School that she began to doubt their relationship- it wasn't until then that a certain thought bubbled up into her brain.

("Will I always be this way? Will I always be so…looked after?")

She always pushed it down though- what was the point of thinking something so silly? Antonio was someone who was very important to her, so why would she want to separate from him? Because of this, the rest of her Secondary School days passed without consequence.

And then came the time when she graduated to college. Even though they had not been able to attend her graduation, her parents and brothers had written that they were so proud of her and all she had accomplished, and were even more proud of the college she had been accepted to. Once again, thoughts of leaving Antonio filled her brain, and once again, they were quickly shut down. They would be attending the same college anyway, and it would only make things harder for everyone…

Amihan dropped the diced potatoes in the pot full of stew and then set it too a simmer, stirring slowly. "And then, in my second year of college" she thought, "I slept with a boy named Arthur…"

It hadn't been something that she had planned, and it hadn't been something that she had been proud off, but it was still something that had happened.

It had started at a party. Amihan had always liked parties because they reminded her of the ones that her family liked to throw when they all got together. She wasn't a big drinker, but when caught up in the vibe of the party she sometimes forgot herself, and that was what led to Arthur.

Antonio had not been there.

Neither of them had been sober.

She had ended up in Arthur's bed.

In the morning she had left in a panic- eyes wide, hair mussed, and barely clothed, she had run to her room and cried. What horrible names she had called herself in those miserable hours, what despicable thoughts she had had. She had told Antonio- there was really no alternative- and he had been furious. Of course he had been furious, anyone in his situation would have been. And then, after hours of tears shed, after hours of her pleading for his forgiveness, he had laughed it off and patted her on the head.

("Like a child. He's dismissing me like a little kid who has made a mistake…")

It had stung, but part of her had thought she had deserved it, so eventually her heart had healed and they had continued living happily.

Still, there was that itch in her mind, the one thought that couldn't be sated.

Once, when she was at Antonio's apartment, his good friend Francis, who was an art major, had called and she had picked up the phone. She only knew him through Antonio, but she thought that she had still known him well enough call him a friend. And so when he called up and complained that his artistic muse was slumbering and that could she please come over to his apartment and model for him the following day, she had accepted. When she had arrived she was treated graciously and instructed to sit beside the window where the light was best. She sat in silence for a while whilst he sketched, but once he had drawn up some rough lines they began to chat idly. At some point the topic of her relationship with Antonio had come up.

"Do you mind if I give you a personal opinion?" He had said.

She shook her head no.

"To me, it looks as if he is stifling you."

Her head whipped around in surprise and he had scolded her lightly, "If you move your head you'll mess me up, stay still."

As she again turned to face the window a small silence descended upon them.

"Have I offended you?" His face had been nonchalant.

She shook her head minutely, and after a pause said in a small voice, "Antonio has always been very kind to me."

"But?"

"But…" She bit her lip, "I feel… contained. We met when I had first moved from the Philippines and did not know much about this culture. He took it upon himself to teach me about the life here and I really was grateful. But sometimes… I feel as if he is still teaching me, does that make sense?"

Francis hummed non-commentaly and so she had continued, "Over the years I thought of leaving him… but… he has really given me no reason too. He has continued to be the same person that he was when I first fell in love with him, so why would I suddenly find fault with that?" Her voice broke un-evenly and then dropped to a murmur, "Because…It's not natural just to stop loving someone, is it? That just isn't right."

There was another pause as she collected herself.

Francis shrugged. "It happens."

"But it is a very cruel thing to think…"

"And so, if you stay with him?"

"If I stay with him…" Her throat squeezed painfully, "If I do that then I will continue to feel like the naive child who knows nothing of this life. I will continue to feel like… I cannot move forward."

"Well then break up with him."

Her head snapped around to face him again, "What?"

"Head, Amihan."

She didn't move, "But aren't you his friend?"

He tilted his head at her, scrutinizing her thoughtfully, "Perhaps, but I am also an artist- pain like yours resonates with me. Besides, anyone with eyes can see a trapped dove when it's in front of them. Now turn your head around."

This time she complied, "I am being selfish," She said in a hushed voice, "I am hurting him."

"Non," He said easily, "You are just growing up."

Amihan had heard the rumors about Francis, but she couldn't help but think he was a good person after he had pretended to ignore the tears she had shed at those magic words.

("Please Lord, let me move forward, let me become someone else. I don't want to be that helpless child anymore.")

Three days later, she had broken up with Antonio.

He had taken it roughly- confusion and anger and sorrow rolled up in one conversation. And after they had spoke at length about the issue he had at last stroked her cheek and murmured, "Have I been making you unhappy, mi amor? Please tell me that I haven't been." And he had kissed her softly.

Her heart had twisted and pulled and squeezed when he had done so, but she had steeled herself- a single thought her mantra, her prayer.

("Let me grow. Let me stretch and move and change. Let me become someone I can be proud of.")

Month's passed. They were lonely, but they were also exciting, and to Amihan they meant more than anything else in the world. It was around that time that she had shorn off her long hair and adopted the pixie cut that it remained. She remembered that when she had later took a look at her self in the mirror she had not recognized what looked back at her, and that she had liked that. She had liked that a lot.

To her surprise, even after she had cut Antonio out of her life, Francis remained a constant. They did not make it a point to see each other, but their paths seemed to cross somewhat consistently anyway. She had only seen the finished version of the painting he had done of her once before it was sold, and couldn't help but smile when she had. The her in the painting sat with eyes cast away, but it was impossible not to notice the presence of tears in them and the wetness on her cheeks. Despite this she sat with her head facing forwards and her mouth pressed into a determined line. Behind the windowpane sat a row of brown birds on a wire; the one nearest to her was taking flight.

It had sold quite well, he had informed her smugly, but when he tried to offer her a sum of the money she had refused, only to instead be conned into promising that she would let him paint her once again some day.

Even though she had thrown herself whole-heartedly into her schoolwork and soccer- she played for the schools team, and was quite good at it- after she had left Antonio, she still tried to take a break every once in a while by going to one of the parties her peers seemed so fond of throwing. She really did enjoy them, something about the hustle and bustle of it all was very comforting to her, and it was at one of these parties that she met someone who would end up very important to her. His name was Alfred F. Jones.

"Lumuluhod ka na'y
di ka pa mandin pansin"

-You may be on your knees
but she still won't notice-

She had been nestled onto a couch next to a couple who were much too excited to see each other, and a pair of girls who were chatting about a class that Amihan wasn't too familiar with. She herself had been smiling idly at her cup, not too concerned that she appeared to be the only one who had come alone, and when the two girls had stood up, a young man had sat down to take their place.

"Hey, what's your name?" He had asked, beaming at her.

She found herself unwillingly smiling back at him, her lips pulled up by some force she could not control "It's, um, Amihan Dizon. …And you?"

"Alfred Jones… Ami."

She blinked, "Pardon?"

"Your name is too much of a mouthful," He grinned, "I'll call you Ami instead, it's cute and short, like you."

She has wished she could have replied in the quick and snappy way that other girls did, but she found that when she got embarrassed her words seemed to stick to the inside of her throat like honey, and so what came out, was, "Oh, that is, um, I don't know, uh-"

"What?" He frowned, his face assuming a puppy-dog like expression, "Don't you like it? I came up with it and I think it really suits you."

Her cheeks flushed, "No, it's not that- it's that, um-"

"Cool!" Quicker than lightening he had been up on his feet, dragging her along as well, "Come dance with me, Ami!"

"Uwaah!"

It had been scary, but it had been fun too.

Alfred was someone she couldn't put her finger on. He had a lot of the same personality traits as Antonio: Bright, unwittingly kind, and with the same tendency to be blunt unknowingly. But there was something about him that was simply… different. Alfred was always bursting with energy, and whilst some called him over-bearing, she couldn't help but be drawn to it. It was like he was her own private sun, showing her color and light and warmth, things she hadn't realized she had been missing. She found him charming. He made her feel very alive.

Even later when he began to pursue her romantically and she had rejected him he had simply laughed.

("I don't want to date anyone, at least not for a while.")

At first the sound had made her blood run cold- he was laughing at her? Was it her destiny to never be taken seriously? But his next words had both surprised her and put her at ease. He had said, "Okay, fine, but that doesn't mean I'm going to give up." And then he had laughed again.

"Not going to give up?" She had repeated in bewilderment, and then was nearly knocked off her feet as a realization hit her like a ton of bricks;

("He see's me a woman, as someone who should be pursued.")

No longer a child to be looked after, but sought after instead.

No longer a child…

"Sa hirap ika'y kanyang susubikin."
-She'll test you in hardship-

Part of her had been terrified, and part of her had been pleased. In the end she really had no choice in the matter, because Alfred proved to be unrelenting.

He made a game of surprising her; wooing her it could have been called technically, but the idea embarrassed Amihan so she didn't. Sometimes she would turn around and find him standing before her with a cup of coffee and a grin. Others she would suddenly find herself being swung through the air as he scooped her up to his chest and spun, laughing all the while. There was one alarming instance in which she had been walking by the fire escape of her apartment building whilst reading a book, and he had been sitting in wait to surprise her one story up. As she had passed he had hooked his feet around the rungs of the fire escape to give him leverage and suspended himself upside down while brandishing a bouquet of flowers. That one had startled her too tears; she noticed that he toned it down a bit thereafter.

And so, in some strange way, they became close friends.

It happened gradually; at first he invited her out with him and his buddies, and then over to his apartment to hang out with he and his half-brother, Matthew, and then it seemed that they were together all the time. It was quite a shock to Amihan, after months of mainly keeping to herself, to find that she had assembled around her a strange group of patchwork friends. There was of course Alfred, and along with him came Matthew and a quiet foreign exchange student named Kiku Honda that he had recently befriended. Also, Alfred was apparently quite close to Arthur- who thankfully didn't seem to recognize Amihan due to her drastic change in appearance, though she still made it a point to avoid him- and it turned out that Francis was as well, so they too ended up joining them on most of their excursions.

They seemed to find no qualms with her and Alfred's strange bond either- though Francis had raised an eyebrow at her when he had first heard, and Arthur, on the rare occasion that she had seen him, had taken her aside and asked her what the hell she saw in 'that bloody idiot'. It had even gotten to the point where she overheard them taking bets on whether they were dating or not on a day-to-day basis when they thought she wasn't listening. That seemed a bit strange… but it didn't overly concern her.

At some point it had become obvious that technically what she and Alfred had would be called dating, but at the same time that seemed not quite the right thing to call it; she felt very close to Alfred, and could honestly say by now that she loved him- though of course never to his face- but it wasn't as if they were bound to one another. She was free to see anyone she wanted, and so was he, not that either of them ever really followed up on that.

Perhaps what they had really could be considered dating, and she was just too stubborn to say so- still rooted in the wish to be independent… and too afraid that maybe she would one day seemingly fall out of love with him the same way she had with Antonio…

("Because…It's not natural just to stop loving someone, is it? That just isn't right.")

"Ligaya ng buhay babaeng sakdal inam
Ang halaga niya'y di matutumbasan"

-Joy of life, a woman extraordinarily fine
Her worth cannot be equaled-

Or maybe they weren't really that way at all, she thought suddenly, ladling the thick stew she had made over rice, because, according to Matthew, Alfred had just been asked out by the captain of the woman's volleyball team, and, also according to Matthew he had said yes. Matthew had looked at her carefully as he had relayed the news, but she hadn't really reacted in a way that had given anything away. She had been hurt a little, but as she had told herself before, they were free to see anyone they liked, because they weren't really dating. Then again, they weren't not dating…

She frowned to herself again as she sat down to eat. She was being fickle, and not only was that not like her, it wasn't very fair to Alfred. She had only just gotten the first spoonful of her dinner in her mouth when her phone buzzed against her hip, jarring her from her thoughts. She blinked in surprise as she read the message; it was from Alfred.

"Wht R U doing tmmrw aftrnoon?" The message inquired.

She smiled at his chat speak, "Nothing," She typed back quickly, and then hesitantly added, "Don't you have a date, though?"

Almost instantly she received a reply, "I did, but I fnd tht scary movie I wnted 2 watch w/ U :D so we shld do tht instead."

Amihan wrinkled her nose quizzically, "But what about the girl who asked you out?"

"Y would I go out w/ some1 I don't like? Lol."

Amihan stared at her phone, "I don't… know how to reply to that." She was glad that Alfred wasn't there at the moment, because he would have been sure to call her blank expression 'freaking cute.'

Her phone buzzed again before she could get her brain processing correctly. "So? R we wtching a movie tmrrw?"

"Yes." She managed to reply.

"K, goodnight! :3"

"Goodnight :)"

She smiled to herself and closed her eyes as she set her phone down. "It may be selfish, but just let us stay like this a little longer."

("Just a little longer.")

"Kahinhinan niya'y tanging kayamanan."

-Her modesty is exceptional treasure.-

Please Read. Please Read. Please Read

Or if you don't care about the Philippines, don't bother. But I put a lot of effort into learning the history so you should too darn it! I promise I'll be brief. Also this note should clear some confusion up as to why Ami did the things she did… anyway.

The Philippines relationship with Spain: Starting from 1521 The Philippines were controlled by Spain. I'm not exactly sure how their relationship was, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't exactly as peaceful as Antonio and Ami's. (There were frequent revolts and attempts for revolution…) Also, I'm sure I portrayed Antonio wrong; I really know absolutely nothing about him except that he's cheerful, likes kids, can get angry, and is part of the Bad Touch Trio. I know most people probably clicked out of this when they saw that he wasn't with Italy, but I still want to apologize! I'm sorry, Spain fans…

The Philippines relationship with Britain: (For those who were wondering about Ami and Arthur's one night stand….) There was one point and time in which Britain wanted a piece of the Philippines for himself and so he took over the capital while the Spanish were still in rule. (For shame Britain!) This lasted for three years, not one night, but you get the gist of things. After the 1763 Treaty of Paris, it was restored to the Spanish.

The Philippines relationship with France: As far as I know there is none, Francis is just very brash, and he's friends with Antonio, so I ended up using him the this way. (Sorry Francis!) I think that he's a good guy deep down though, so he was hopefully still in character… (Probably not. Siiigh.)

The Philippines relationship with America: This is exciting! In 1896 the Philippines revolted from Spain and were declared independent on June 12th! However… the Spanish refused to accept their independence and instead sold the Philippines to America for 20 million US Dollars. (To end the Spanish-American war, I think) (Of course I had to translate this differently, so Antonio did not sell Ami to Alfred. Prostitution is bad, kids!) The Philippines continued to insist that they were independent, and America continued to ignore this idea, which eventually led to the Philippine-American war… America won. (Hang in there, Philippines!) The Philippines were officially declared independent (again) on July 4th. (So they have the same birthday… haha) The Philippines are now extremely friendly with America and continue to stand with them and back them up to this day. It's even gotten so far that the Philippines has picked up on some of Americas habits… (Which is not necessarily a good thing.) Anyway, I hope that helps explain Ami and Alfred's relationship!

The song that is interspersed through this story is a traditional Filipino song called Lulay. Someone other than me has translated this song from Tagalog to English, so if the translation is not exact, I apologize.

Thank you if you read this far!

I'm going to go try and finish my FrUk fanfic now… -scuttles back underground-

-OhMyGoshsickles