HetaliaXCountry!Reader Part Three

As the steaming water ran down my back I let out a choked sob. To be perfectly honest, it was hard being a country. The people of New York acted quickly after someone brought up the issue. He started speaking publicly and then he was on TV. Eventually, enough people had agreed, New York was going to separate from the United States. The man who started it all became the country’s leader and I showed up and explained the rules to him. The people voted and we were to become a socialist country. The was no money and people only had necessary jobs. Unemployment rates went down. People were provided meals from our health department and national health rates were up. People in other countries began calling me ‘Utopia’ but that was wrong. Our system had one flaw. We hadn't expected anyone to try and cheat the government. He was locked up and my boss tried to calm the people, telling them that he was caught stealing when he already had all that he needed, and that was true, but people began to doubt our leader. I could feel a resistance forming when I suggested to my boss that we held a vote for a new leader. Then he hit me. He hits me all the time now, whenever I do anything wrong. He doesn’t just hit me though.

I slid to the floor of the shower and stared at the ugly bruises that covered my stomach and the scars on my legs and arms. I knew tears were streaming down my eyes but they mixed with the water raining down on me. I was crying too hard to hear my apartment door click open.

“New York?” someone called out, knocking on my bathroom door, “It’s Korea. I heard what happened, are you ok.” I take in a slow breath.

“I-I’m fine!” I yell back, standing shakily and turning off the water and grabbing a plush towel that I had placed over the curtain rod. I dried myself off and wrapped the towel around my body. “Shit.” I murmur, remembering that your forgot clean cloths. Luckily, I’m lazy while doing my laundry and my washer and dryer were in my bathroom. I looked in the dryer and found a pair of underwear, a sports bra and my jogging sweats. Hurriedly pulling the clothes on as I walked out of the bathroom, I run my fingers through my hair.

“New York, your breasts look so small in that bra.” I hit Korea as I passed him to get a sweater from my closet to keep the bruises hidden. Korea had become close to me after I became a socialist country as he was too. He even had a key to my apartment and he often came to complain about Japan.

“Fuck off.” I groaned, flopping onto my sofa. I heard the springs creak as Korea sat near my feet and I turned to face the back of the sofa.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked, his voice soft.

“Nothing.” I groan into pillows.

“(Y/n),” He strictly said, I had told him my human name because he said I could trust him. I hated being called that name, “what happened.” It wasn’t a question.

“Cuba is mad at me because I don’t want to destroy America, I just wanted freedom. I was running away when I ran into America and he told me to call him by his name but I wasn’t okay with that so I told him off and then Cuba tried to touch me and I got mad and ran away.” I huff, not taking a breath.

“China says you were scary.” Korea remarked, I smirked.

“I have my moments.” I say, rolling to face him. He laughs but stops and I wonder what happened. Then, I feel a cool hand on my bare stomach. “Shit.” I breath, knocking Korea’s hand off and pulling my sweater over it. “Don’t tell.” I say, smiling weakly.

“New York! Was it Cuba?” I shake my head solemnly, “...America?” Another no. “...New York... was it... your boss?” I hesitate, biting my lip. “I must tell my boss! And all of my allies and then they will do the same. I-”

“Korea,” I stop him, looking down and tugging at his oversized sleeves, “don’t.” He ran his hands through his hair and I sat quietly, picking at fraying stitches in my sofa.

“New York, he’s hurting you. My boss can alert your people and they can-”

“What? Overthrow him? No one cares about us, Korea! No one cares about the embodiments of countries! Half of the world doesn’t even know we exist!” I shout, “Just,” I begin in a softer voice, “promise not to tell.”

Korea smirked, hair pushed back with his hand as he studied the ceiling, “Did you know,” he said slyly, “that the promise was invented in Korea?” I giggled.

“No, I didn’t know that.”

Cuba’s POV

“If that bitch thinks that she can hide from me she’s dead wrong.” I said to Canada, the one country that hated me but was too weak to say otherwise.

“Maybe she just needs some space Cuba...” He shrugged, displeased that the Cuban man had settled himself on the plush chair in Canada’s home.

“No, she is going to start a war, I can feel it.”

“Cuba, I don’t think New York would do that. Most of her people are peaceful anyway.”

“We’ll see.” Cuba said, standing to leave.

“Oh, dear.” Canada shook his head as the door shut behind Cuba.

America’s POV

“I’m telling you, New York is in trouble! I can feel it in my soul like how you can tell when I’m in trouble, Iggy!” I plead.

“I don’t care, damn it! She left you, America!” England argued back.

“But...” I stutter, “we’re still friends, right?”

“No, you bloody wanker,” he said, “you’re my brother.” He smiled warmly at me.

“Oui,” France said, “you are our frere and we would never let you go.”

“Where the hell did you come from frog? This is my house!” Iggy shouted and I chuckled, leaving the house unnoticed by my bickering brothers.

“She’s more than a sister to me,” I smile, “she’s my baby girl.” I pull my motor cycle helmet over my head and start the engine.

“Time to talk to Cuba.”