I've been iffy about posting this particular fic, but today I finally decided to just do it. I really like it, and although it may not "properly" assess the situation in some people's eyes, I believe that I got my point across. That being said, this fic is based on Belarus-United States relations in early September, 2001. I won't go into detail, but I encourage you to look it up if you're interested in learning the background behind my little story.

I sadly do not own Hetalia.

Mutuality

Natalia smoothed out the stray crinkles in her skirt. She brought a hand up to her hair, making sure that every long platinum strand was in place, then lifted her other hand and moved her white bow about a millimeter to the left. After a few more adjustments, she turned to check herself in the mirror. The sight of her own reflection brought a scowl to her face. "I do not want to do this," she said to herself.

But I must.

Natalia Arlovskaya and Alfred F. Jones didn't seem to have much in common. Everything about the two almost completely opposed the other nation: deathly quiet versus obnoxiously loud, icy and secretive versus warm and outgoing.

However, the two had one solemn thing in common: only one person had ever seen them cry.

For the female nation, it was her sister, Ukraine. Not only was the other nation a sister to her, but she was a mother. She was a sister, a mother, an aunt... Everything rolled up into one. For this reason, Natalia allowed her guard to lower in her presence. It didn't happen often, but it happened, and Ukraine would always catch her sister's tears on her shoulder when it did. On the other hand, you had Alfred, for whom it was his own brother/father/uncle, Arthur Kirkland. Even the hero had to cry sometimes, and at those times he would go to Arthur, and the English nation would rub his back and say soothing things to him in that accent that Alfred loved so much and he'd make everything alright.

On both sides, though, that was it. They each had one person to cry to, and the rest of the world to face with dry eyes and a hidden heart.

At the moment, Natalia was preparing to unhide her heart, if only a little. She hadn't spoken to the American nation in ages. Had it been weeks? Months? She didn't know. Practically every other nation had at least exchanged a word or two with Alfred, some condolence or offer of support or strong words of encouragement, but Natalia just hadn't been able to look at him. She couldn't. The last time they talked had been an argument, and now this had happened... She just couldn't bring herself to turn back around and face him.

Now, however, she had to. She was standing in the doorway of her hotel room, wavering as her heels dug impatiently into the cream-colored carpet. Finally, the Belarusian was on the other side of the door. Once she made sure that it was locked, she made her way down the hallway to the elevators. She was going to see Alfred, and she was going to make everything right.

At least, that's what she was hoping.

As she approached the American's house, she could sense that something was off the second it came into view. Somehow, it just didn't seem right. It actually sent a slight shiver through her body, which she didn't like at all. To be honest, as she held her hand up to knock on the door, she really didn't know what to expect of the man whom she was visiting. Would he be curled up in the corner of his house, alone and afraid? Or would he be angry at the world and not want any visitors? Would he be happy to see her? Would he even be home? Perhaps she should've called first...

In the middle of her nervous train of thoughts, the door before her was pushed open to reveal none other than the American himself. Alfred F. Jones was standing in front of her, and he was none of the things that she had anticipated; rather, he was crying.

"Oh, hi, Natalia!"

He was crying, and yet he was smiling. Natalia honestly couldn't tell if he was faking it or if he was sincerely happy to see her.

His hair looked as if he had been running his hands through it constantly, but it didn't look completely disheveled; it just looked like something was off, like she had sensed earlier. Something was definitely off, between his hair and his wet eyes with the tired bags under them and his hand which she could've sworn was shaking slightly, but everything was lighted by that false sense of normalcy that was his bright American smile.

"I... Hello, Alfred." Maybe it was just because she hadn't seen him in a long time, but she was absolutely blinded by that smile. Had tears not still been trickling silently down his face, it could've almost been like they were back to the beginning of the year when relations between the two were great, and Alfred and his people hadn't been the victims of this horrible attack. She grimaced as she thought about it, looking away from the other nation, but he just kept talking.

"Sorry, I must look like such a mess, but do you want some coffee or something? I think I may have some cookies or rolls stowed away somewhere that I can dig out - does that sound good?"

She just stared at him.

After several moments of silence where she should've said something but couldn't think of what to say, he motioned for her to come in. "Here, at least come sit down. The place is kind of a wreck, but don't worry, I can clear some room on the table and the couch is actually pretty clean, so you can sit there."

Natalia nodded and followed him inside, but nearly stopped as soon as she got a clear view of the living room. Papers were scattered everywhere; every surface was covered by sheet after sheet of white, with a few stacks here and there of cards and envelopes. There were multiple black pens on the table, along with a red pen and a highlighter. Flowers were stacked unceremoniously in the far corner, as if Alfred had wanted to put them somewhere nice but just couldn't find room. A few video tapes were scattered across the table and couch, and the television was paused on a dark scene that she couldn't make out. The Belarusian had fallen on hard times before, but her home had never looked quite this… Chaotic.

As Natalia traversed her way through the various things that were cluttering the floor, trying not to step on any important-looking papers, her shoe caught on a file-filled box and sent her tripping forward. Alfred heard her gasp and immediately whipped around. He held out his arms to balance her, catching her before she completely toppled over.

"Woah, sorry, I should've moved that! Good thing I was ahead of you so I could..."

He cut himself short when Natalia looked up and caught his gaze. There was something about her eyes... Those royal blue eyes that he hadn't seen in so long. The last time he had seen those eyes, they had been full of anger and distrust, and now they were looking up at him with a mixture of pity and sympathy and all kinds of concern and they were beautiful.

Then again, his eyes were still the tiniest bit blurry from tears, so maybe he was just imagining all of those things... But since they were both still standing there staring at each other, he probably wasn't.

Without warning, Natalia pulled herself up and buried her face in the front of his shirt.

"Alfred, I'm sorry! I came to apologize for getting angry with you and for not talking to you... I just... I didn't know what to say to you because I thought you were still angry... And then... This... I… So I needed to know how you were doing and make sure that you weren't still… That you are not still angry."

As she paused for a proper breath, she realized how easy it was to suddenly identify her worry. That was just it: she was afraid that he would still be mad at her. Why had she not been able to single out that fear before? She was nervous, terrified, because she thought he would still be angry and she wouldn't be able to console him like she knew she had to. Like she wanted to.

She looked up now, because Alfred wasn't responding. He was staring at her, and she couldn't for the life of her tell what he was thinking, but before she knew it his arms were tightly around her and he was hugging her close and laughing and crying all at the same time and saying something but she couldn't tell what and then, and THEN, she was crying, too.

Well, weren't they just a lovely little mess: two nations standing in the middle of a hopelessly cluttered room, chaos all around them, crying on each other like a dam had just broken and everything was flooding out.

"Natalia," Alfred laughed, "I had totally forgotten all about that!"

... What. Had she just embarrassed herself for nothing? He... Had forgotten? She was about to say something when the American spoke up again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad at you in the first place. I guess I kind of just forgot about everything since..." He trailed off for a moment and his eyes hardened noticeably, but he quickly snapped back. "But seriously! Don't worry about it! I'm not mad at you! I mean, how could I stay mad at someone who came all the way here just to see me?"

Natalia blushed a little and looked away despite herself. "Well, you certainly seem to be in better condition than I expected."

"Heh, believe me, I've been much better since I saw that it was you at my door!"

Natalia's blush deepened. Did that mean that he really was happy to see her? Had she helped him in some way? She was sorting out her thoughts when she felt something on her chin. It was Alfred's hand; he was tilting her head up so that he could lean in and kiss her.

They kissed and they kissed, and it wasn't a lusty kiss or a deeply passionate kiss, but it was a sentimental kiss. Neither parties wanted it to end, but the need for air eventually broke them apart. It was then that they blinked at one another, both surprised, one grinning like an idiot and the other just staring. Both of their faces were beet-red, partially from crying so much and partially from, well, what had just happened.

Natalia spoke first. "A-Alfred, why did you do that?"

Alfred was still smiling stupidly as he replied. "I dunno... Why'd you kiss back?"

Natalia's blush went one shade darker, and even though she wanted to look away, she couldn't break from Alfred's gaze. "I... Well..."

"I guess," Alfred said, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist, "our relations are good now?"

She stared up at him and, upon catching sight of that blinding smile - the one that shined with all the pride of his people, the one that showed her how strong he really was both on the outside and the inside - she felt a small smile creep onto her own face.

"Yes... Relations are good."

Alfred must've been feeling emboldened by the first kiss, then, because he leaned in for another one after hearing her say that. This one was quite a bit more passionate than the first one (Yep, Alfred was definitely feeling a little better), and lasted even longer, and when they broke apart this time they were both smiling. Alfred's blush matched Natalia's now, too.

"I am... Very sorry for not talking to you all this time," Natalia stuttered after a moment, looking down at the ground. "I am glad that you're... Doing a little bit better."

Alfred rested his chin on her head, smiling brightly. "Thanks, Natalia. Thanks so much." He felt another tear threaten to roll down his face, and he didn't stop it. Behind her curtain of hair, Natalia was tearing up again, too, and she lifted a hand to brush her eyes. Seeing this, Alfred lifted his head and tilted her chin back up. She sniffled as he hastily dried his own eyes, then gently wiped hers with his thumb.

"Thanks," he said, still smiling, "for crying for me."

.

When the Belarusian arrived back home, her sister was there to greet her.

"Natalia! Natalia, welcome home! How was Mr. Jones? Was he... Was he doing alright? I'm sure he must be in an awful state right now, oh…"

Natalia returned her sister's hug as she replied calmly. "He is doing better than I had expected."

"Ohh! That is so good to hear! You seem a bit better, yourself. I'm glad that it was a fruitful trip!" She then leaned in to whisper in the other nation's ear. "So, he is not still angry with you? You two are... On good terms again?"

Natalia smiled the tiniest bit and shook her head. "No... He is not still angry with me."

Natalia Arlovskaya and Alfred F. Jones didn't seem to have much in common; everything about the two almost completely opposed the other nation. One was deathly quiet while the other was obnoxiously loud; one icy and secretive and the other warm and outgoing. However, the two had one thing that they shared with one another, and that was their tears. And that was enough for now.

A bit of angst for you Arunata fans there, I suppose. (... Are there any Arunata fans here? Yes? Please?) I do hope it was enjoyable, albeit a tad solemn in subject.