Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, just this story. Look, a sequel! Enjoy this and thanks for reading!

"Have you taken care of the others poppet?"

"Yeah Ollie, I made sure to spend enough time with each before the end. I'm so sorry it came down to this."

"Oh, poppet, please don't blame yourself. If anything, it was my entire fault this happened."

"Oliver, don't you ever say that. You were doing what you thought was right at the time. I just wish others saw it that way."

"Alright, if you insist my dear. I think it's time now, don't you?"

"Yeah Ollie, I do. I love you."

"I love you too Sarah, I love you too."

A button pressed and Oliver's eyes slipped closed as he fell down on the bed. Sarah stood up and walked out his door and towards the entrance. She took one look back at the house before walking out the front door. She didn't look back as she left with tears streaming down her face, never to return to the mansion.

I was always close to my grandmother, as I spent most of my time there. The earliest memory I have of her is a story she used to tell me. She liked to call it a modern Snow White; two girls and nine men living together as a happy family. They stayed together and didn't let anyone come in between them, no matter what. The story always fascinated me, because she seemed to tell it in chapters. Each time I was there, a new part was added to the story. One day the girls met a new member, another they were shopping in a mall. In one part the oldest girl had run off, just ran away and left them behind, and everyone searched for her. They came back together in the end.

Later I learned that the two girls were my grandmother and my great aunt. I often asked my grandmother who the men were, to her and in general, but I would never get a clear answer. One time she called them brothers, another fathers, and another sons. All I ever knew was their names: Matthew, Feliciano, Lovino, Albert, Ludwig, Lovino again, Oliver, Allen, and Gilbert. There were no pictures that I knew of. They were just men to me, but I could tell they were more to her. I would always ask her where they were now, but always got the same answer.

"Grandma, where do they live? Are they happy there?"

"They live in America (Y/N). They aren't happy, they aren't sad, they are just there. They hang between worlds."

It was always some variation of this, no matter what I asked. Soon I resorted to asking my great aunt, since she always seemed to be with grandma. "Hey, Auntie, do you remember Oliver? What happened to him?"

"That's for your grandmother to tell, not me (Y/N)," she would reply. Her response never changed, neither of them did, so I eventually stopped asking. I think I stopped when I was 13, the age grandma introduced me to her favorite show.

"(Y/N), come here for a minute," she called to me, motioning to the spot next to her on the couch. I quickly moved to her side, expecting another chapter for the story. "I want to show you something very special," she said quietly. Grandma pressed a button next to her and the holographic screen came to life. "Open folder H."

I watched as the screen immediately opened up to a listing of episodes. Each one was labelled at five minutes long and started with the word Hetalia. "Grandma, what is this?" I asked her. I looked up and noticed a melancholy smile on her face.

"This, my child, is one of the few things I hold dear to me. It comes a close second to you," she explained. I nodded, as though I understood, but was slightly annoyed that I hadn't gotten a real answer. "You know, Kiki would love to watch these with us. Would you go get her for me?" I nodded and got up to find my aunt. She was in the kitchen, waiting for a bag of popcorn to be created by the 3D food maker.

"Auntie, grandma said she was starting something called Hetalia and wanted to know if you would like to come watch with us," I told her.

"Ooh, Sarah is firing up the old files again. Let me just get my popcorn and I'll be right over. Man, I miss microwaves," Aunt Kiki replied, muttering the last bit to herself. I waited as she got her popcorn and followed me back to the couch. When she sat down I ended up sandwiched between the two, but was given the popcorn to hold. Grandma started the very first episode and we spent the rest of the day watching Hetalia, which I grew to love just as much as they did.

In all the time I knew my grandmother, we would watch Hetalia together every day. Oddly though, she would always get emotional if Romano, Canada, Germany, Prussia, HRE, ChibiRomano, or Chibitalia showed up on screen. I asked her about it, but she would never answer.

In all the time I knew my grandmother, there were two questions she would never give me answers to. Why do you sometimes cry during certain parts of Hetalia? Who were the men from your modern Snow White?

"(Y/N), the service is about to start, get your butt over here," my mother said. She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the folding chairs. They were underneath a covered pavilion and faced the direction the sun would set. There was already a large crowd gathered in the chairs, eerily silent as they stared towards the center. My mother sat my body down in a front row chair, obviously annoyed by my inability to give any reaction.

I knew it was exasperating to her, and that she was probably sadder than I was, but this is just how I could cope with it all. I looked to the seat next to me and saw my aunt, quietly dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes. I quickly looked away, instead setting my sight straight ahead of me. I tried to drown out the silence as a man stood at the very front of the pavilion, behind the large wooden box. "We have come today not to grieve a death, but to celebrate a life. Sarah Gage was a lively woman and she will be sorely missed," the man began.

He droned on for about an hour, talking about my grandmother like he had personally known her. About halfway through the ceremony the grey London skies began their own lament. They opened up and allowed the sun to shine through for the first time in weeks. I found it fitting that London finally allowed the sun to shine through on my grandmother; she had been saying how much she missed it. A wry smile appeared on my lips, the only emotion I had shown since we got the news.

The ceremony continued for another three hours, most of which was spent with people I had never met talking about my grandmother like they knew her. I wasn't allowed to go up there, my mother wouldn't let me. Instead I sat there, emotionless, and let the words wash over me. When we were finally done I stood up and walked over to the open casket. My grandmother was dressed in a Hetalia shirt and jeans, as specified in her will, and wore no makeup. She was probably the most beautiful dead person I have ever seen.

"Excuse me, are you (Y/N)?" a soft voice asked me. I turned around to face a man who was slightly taller than me. He had brown, curly hair and blue eyes magnified by thick framed glasses. I nodded to his question and gave a small wave. "We are about to read the will, and you are required to be present," he explained.

"Please, lead the way," I managed to say. He nodded and began to walk towards the building at the front of the cemetery. I sent one final gaze to my grandmother and waved good bye to her. Cool air washed over me when the door opened to allow me in. I followed the man to a back room where my mother, father, aunt, and uncle were already sitting. My uncle was on one side of my mother with my father on the other. I took the open seat next to my aunt and placed my hand over hers.

"Now, concerning the will, there are only two sentences that comprise it. They read as follows. 'I will all my money and estate in America to my granddaughter (Y/N) immediately and without delay. Everything else, except my London estate and anything within which goes to Kiki, is to be split between the rest of my blood related relatives.' Are there any questions?" the man asked.

I was staring at him wide-eyed. I didn't know grandma had owned an estate in America, she had said she always lived in London. Was that where the men were? "Yes, I have a question. Why in the hell does my daughter get the American estate and the money?" my mother shrieked.

"Oh calm down honey, let (Y/N) take the estate, she is old enough," my aunt said. She wasn't wrong. I was 18 years old, old enough to legally live by myself and all that. My aunt and mother continued to fight for a few minutes before mother finally conceded.

"(Y/N) will be leaving tomorrow morning for America. She does not need to bring a suitcase, only a carryon bag. Transportation to the airport has also been provided to her," the man explained. Mother and father nodded before standing up and ushering us out the door. I spent another car ride listening to them lecture me about the dangers of America and everything I should be wary of.

I spent the night tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep at all. By the time morning came I was pretty sure only two of the ten hours had been spent asleep. The morning was a blur of duffel bags, breakfast, coffee, and car rides. By the time I was seated in first class on the plane I had no idea what had happened. All I was sure about was the new card in my hand, connected to a massive bank account, the fact that I still haven't cried over the loss of my beloved grandmother, and that I had no idea what I was doing. I was sure about one thing though.

Maybe I'll finally get some answers.

I hope you guys enjoyed that chapter and I'm really excited to finally be posting this sequel! Thanks for reading, leave your comments, and look forward to the next chapter.