Zubicu- a Hetalia fanfic.

Chapter 13

OK, I'm a late updater!! GOMENNASI!! I have hardly ANY idea how Spain acts normally, so this is probably going to be really far from accurate. All the credit goes to @Lillysky23 for telling me how he acts so I could write this, therefore getting me out of writers' block and helping me back on track. And it's still probably really bad...

~Sasha (Wolfie)

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Once England's ship has disappeared from sight, Japan gently pushes me away from him. He lets me go and walks me back along the deck. I hold tightly onto his hand, refusing to let go for fear I'll break down and cry, run away, or that he'll get taken away from me. Spain comes out from round a corner. "Ah, Zubicu! I see you and Japan both safely made it on board." he says, smiling in relief as he comes over to us.

I nod, grinning at my old Spanish friend. "Yup! Thanks for helping us away from England." I chime happily. Then my face turns from a grin into a frown and I look Spain in the eye. "Say, Spain, I keep hearing your voice recently and I don't know why. You have any idea?" I ask, tilting my head to the side in a confused manner.

"Because I'm just that awesome that you can't forget about me?" he asks/states, grinning in a poor attempt to imitate Prussia. I laugh, pushing his shoulder playfully.

"Quit trying to be like Prussia, silly. And no, I mean like when you sung to me and Romano when we were kids." I say, not letting go of Japan's hand. When I'm near Spain, I feel and therefore act like a little child again because of the simple fact that I spent a large chunk of my childhood with him. Luckily, though, I manage to resist the urge to swing our hands back and forth, that would make me look stupid and I don't want to make a bad impression on the crew members. And I'm also a little scared I'm going to make a wrong move and he'll get mad at me. Spain is not a pretty sight when he's angry. At least, when he's angry with me, that is. If he's the same way when he's mad at anyone else I don't know, but he acts like Belarus when she's chasing after some girl she's seen with her brother Russia. In other words, very very scary. And people wonder why I'm scared of him whenever he acts remotely angry.

Spain nods. "Ah well. Let's get you below, shall we?" he says, taking me and Japan and dragging us after him before I can object.

"Spain, is Romano or Canada on board?" I ask nervously, struggling to keep up with the eager Spainiard. He nods without slowing down or turning around.

"Si, they both are. Canada wasn't happy with the trap those two planned with your brother, and he got me to help. Romano didn't want to stay out of this and he insisted I take him with me. I'm sure that if I didn't agree he would force me to drag him on board the ship, knowing him." he replies, making me grin. My friend Romano would do just that if it meant we could meet again. He really is sweet sometimes.

Spain leads us both below deck, and shows us to a cabin. His hand on the door handle, he turns to us and winks at me, before opening the door. "Enjoy your stay, we're headed for Spain!" he chimes as I walk in, Kiku following behind me, and shuts the door behind both of us once we're standing inside the room, leaving us to ourselves.

I look around the room. The whole thing is reddish-pink, kinda like sunset. The porthole is a lot bigger, it's square like a normal window rather than round like on England's ship, and it's above a wooden table like last time. The desk itself has a perfectly flat top, smoothed over and varnished, with a candle sitting on the right-hand side of the table. On the left is a small, square pot of ink, and sitting in that is a feather. I smile when I see it. The stem is snow-white, and the huge strands that make up the feather are a royal blue, a very similar colour to France's cloak. Spain knows that's my favourite colour. No, it has nothing to do with France, I swear, I just love blue.

Going back to the table. The legs are strong, and dark brown, and despite being wide have very intricate carvings trailing down them that fascinate me. The chair is the same dark brown that the table is, with strange carvings on the high back. The seat is a plush red velvet, and well-padded. The front part of the back of the chair, or the part that you lean back on, I'm not sure what it's called, also is covered in a plush red velvet. It has a little padding, but not half as much as the seat itself. In the centre at the top of the fabric is stiched the Spanish coat of arms.

Turning round again I spot a dresser and mirror. Walking over to them, I observe the carvings on the mahogany dresser. The main one on the top is a huge carving of the symbol on the Spanish flag, taking up the whole of the top. The handles are polished brass. I look at the mirror. It's framed with silver, which twists and turns round in a very elegant manner, the type you would expect to find in Victorian-age Britain.

Looking around the rest of the room, I notice several Spanish flags draped over the walls, along with a few symbols from Spain dotted around here and there. The fact that it's so typical for Spain to do this makes me smile.

Other than that, though, there isn't much in the room in terms of furniture. Even so, it makes me feel a bit more like I'm at home. I always felt that I fitted right in when it came to Spain's house. The Spanish flags, routines and songs that were a huge part of my childhood all helped to make me who I am now, and despite his....odd.... ways sometimes, like sometimes he would shoo us- by that, I mean Romano and I- out of a room to do something and he'd spend the whole day there, I still loved living with him and Romano.

I smile as I get lost in the memories. Romano and Italy arguing with each other, me breaking up the fight, my first playfight with Romano, Italy finding out and going to get Spain, and then Spain coming and pulling us apart. Singing with Spain, making pasta with them all...the list goes on and on. Pulling myself out of the moment of memory lane, I sit down on the edge of he bed next to Kiku, and examine it.

It's a double bed, with fluffy white pillows. The blanket is patterned with gorgeous red roses, the type France always seems to carry around with him, with a light yellow background. The roses and their deep green stems, complete with dark red thorns and everything, stretch and intertwine with each other across the whole of the blanket, making it look very much like a really intricate drawing. Four posts connect it to two twsting metal bars, painted gold, which are in turn connected to the ceiling, parallel to each other. I notice they're probably the first metal things I've seen in a cabin on a ship before. I mean, alright I've seen metal elsewhere, but not in my room before. Proves Spain is a bit more of a modern pirate.

Examining the rest of the room, my face suddenly heats up in a blush. "SPAIN!!!!" I yell, furious. Kiku looks at me.

"What is it, Sasha-chan?" he asks. In answer, I gesture around the room, then to the bed, too furious to speak. When he realises, his face also heats up in a blush. I hear Spain's laughter outside the room, and glare at the door.

Why are we so embarrassed? Well, you know there's two of us sharing a room? As if that wasn't bad enough, then, well...

Spain's made sure there's only one bed. And it's a double bed.