Afraid to Admit it.

[Rukia Kurosaki 357]

It's a fanfic involving my OC South Germany. Her name is Asche. She's the younger sister of Germany and Prussia, and is constantly training. Asche's blue-green eyes are nearly always set in a glare, and she wears military-style or steampunk clothes. South Germany has curly, short brown hair, as well as a cold, intellectual personality.

Germany sat at his desk, reading over an official -and therefore not too interesting- document and listening to Austria as he complained about Prussia's behavior. "Honestly, I cannot compose one measure of music without hearing, 'I am awesome!' at a pitch quite unsuitable for the key I'm writing in!" Looking up from his work, Ludwig sighed, "Well, Gilbert doesn't listen to me. Ask Hungary to beat him with a frying pan or something." Before Roderich could voice his reply, a brunette female country wearing a military coat,grey scarf and hat, and fierce glare slammed the door open, shouting, "Ludwig, your ally needs professional help!"

"Speaking of people who don't listen to me..." Germany glanced at Austria, who slipped out past the newcomer before he could get caught up in the issue. Fuming, South Germany held up a book that was now little more than shredded paper in a torn cover. "Feliciano made a paper chain out of my battle plans! What the hell have you been teaching him?!" Running a hand down his face, Ludwig sighed, "He does not listen to a thing I say." After dropping the useless records, Asche suggested she try to teach the Italian the basics of warfare. "You're serious about this?" her brother asked, an eyebrow raised in surprise. "Well, if there's one thing he isn't, it's dangerous, so I have no problem instructing him. Besides, I need the extra training for my campaign against the stragglers from the U.S.S.R." Germany laughed, "That group was wiped out a long time ago, Asche. Any 'stragglers' are probably not even country-worthy opponents, let alone strong adversaries."

With a cold glare at her brother, South Germany muttered, "I still believe they've been recharging with Russia, possibly even without his knowledge..." and left, slamming the door behind her. With Feliciano apparently out of his hair, Germany hadthe freedom to do something he'd needed to for a long time: Italy-proof his house. And since England had called earlier to set a time for a business meeting involving the manufacturing of scones for military use, he hadn't much time to do it.

Out in the training field she'd cleared in Prussia's backyard, Asche was showing a bewildered Italy how to shoot a handgun. So far, all he'd managed to hit was his own foot, but after she told him he could take a pasta break if he hit ten targets, he seemed somewhat eager to learn. Once he'd managed to land nine shots-all of which barely grazed the edges of the targets beside the ones he'd actually aimed at- South Germany smiled and patted him on the back softly... well, softly for a German country, that is. But the proud moment faded as she sensed something flying toward her. Moving instinctively to protect the smaller country she was training, Asche spun and fired three rounds of ammunition into whatever it was. Italy screamed at the gunfire, but he calmed as he spotted the object lying a few feet away. "A tomato... seriously? Romano, where the hell are you?!" she shouted, glaring at every possible hiding place around. To her surprise, the angry, potato-hating Italian emerged from behind a rosebush in the far corner of the field, carrying an armful of tomatoes. He seemed shaken, but didn't retreat as South Germany raised her revolver again and hammered the action. "What are allyou potato-loving creeps ruining my brother for, ah?" Feliciano whimpered, "Asche, please put the gun down... you're scary..."

"Fine." She holstered the weapon and stared coldly at Romano, who had grown more bold once the gun was out of sight. "So, ready to surrender?" he challenged. Giving him her least amused glare, Asche watched as South Italy made his way to where his brother stood, shouting about the horrors of being German. When he finished his rant and calmed down a little bit, she silently approached and sucker punched him. Turning to go, she dismissed Italy from the lesson and left Romano writhing on the ground and clutching his face. Irritated and without an outlet for her hatred, South Germany stomped back home, stopping at Ludwig's house to return the pistol she'd taken for Italy. She stopped outside her brother's study, about to open the door, and heard a discussion that made her stop in her tracks. "I know that she's your sister and all, but a young woman should really have someone to help her out. If she really intends to track down these old Soviets, South Germany is going to need quite a few allies."

The voice belonged to Arthur, who she'd only met once. He was a kind, proper, intelligent country, but was often lost in a fantasy world of his own design, and spent far too much time fighting France, who she felt didn't deserve the acknowledgement. Again Asche reached for the doorknob, but then she heard Germany reply to Britain's comment. "I know she needs the help, but she'd never allow it. Asche jumps right into any fight without worrying about her own safety...My sister wouldn't admit she needed help even if sheknew she couldn't protect herself." She was filled with seething rage at the words. Her own brother was calling her weak, incapable, and brash. Resolved to prove him wrong, Asche checked that she had at least a half-dozen weapons in her coat and set off to seek out the enemies she'd been researching. Just as she was leaving, she heard Ludwig mutter, "She doesn't want to need anyone's help. Asche is mortal, and can't always do everything by herself, but she's afraid to admit it." The words struck home, but South Germany was too determined to allow herself to think about it. There was no way she would let her brother -or anyone else, for that matter- call her afraid ever again!