When planning your Valentine’s Day, you had thought it would’ve have been normal. Maybe you and Vash would go see a movie and share a kiss. Maybe the Swiss nation would take you out for a picnic on the Alps.
What you hadn’t expected was digging him out of thousands upon thousand of chocolate bars.
Well, most wouldn’t.
You had shown up at around noon, almost unnerved that you hadn’t been shot at. After all, your boyfriend loved the term ‘private property,’ and had made it almost a second reflex to duck, lest you wish to be hit with a tranquilizer.
You were even more puzzled when the dogs hadn’t been out playing with the sheep. That was even weirder. You carefully made your way to the door, almost immediately hearing Lili’s frightened calls for her brother.
Confusedly, you opened the door. “Lili? Vash?” It was quiet. Way too quiet.
“Oh, (Y/N)!” You’re here!” Little Liechtenstein ran toward you, fear marking every part of her her face. “Come quick! I need your help!” Dragging you by your sleeve, you were hauled down the corridor. “H-hey! What’s the big idea?”
“It’s big bruder.” She cried. “I’ve lost him!”
Pointing, your eyes shifted, making you gasp in shock.
The living room was absolutely covered in bars of chocolate; the highest point coming well over your thigh. It was on the couch, the chair, on top of lamps and the television. The golden wrappers glittered in the sunlight, boxes and even more boxes stacked in the coroner of the room. There was no doubt in your mind that it was more chocolate.
“W-what’s going on here?” You shrieked, dazed beyond belief.
'It’s the orders,” She said sadly. “Every year, people buy so much chocolate on Valentine’s Day. Big bruder has to ship most of it before next week.”
"That's insane! how the hell does he manage to do it all?!"
“He says he just glad not to be Belgium.”
You shuddered, imaging what that must be like.
Eyes snapping to the immense pile, you wondered if he could possibly have drowned
“Vash?! Switzerland?!” You called out, wadding through the brightly wrapped candy.
There was a tiny groan from somewhere, barely loud enough to hear.
“Vash!?” Again there was a tiny groan.
Getting frustrated, you paddled over to where you thought it was. “Yodel once if you can hear me!”
Listening carefully, you heard a rather weak, one-noted yodel.
Rushing over to the sound, you feverishly began digging through the bars of heavenly goodness.
There was a flash of blonde hair, then a face.
“I’ve found him!” You cried, digging out the rest of him. You heard Liechtenstein clasp her hands together, letting out a squeak of happiness.
Finally, you had uncovered the near-comatose nation, many bars of chocolate melted to his hair.
“Vash? Are you okay?”
He coughed violently, shivering. “I-I don’t want another piece of chocolate for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “I-it was horrible.”
The boxes…” he said, voice quivering. The boxes fell over, and the candy went everywhere. It was like an avalanche. Of sugary, fattening sweets.” Holding him your arms, you carefully stroked his hair.
Even if he was the brash, trigger-happy country that you knew and loved, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of happiness to find his weakness.
He protected you from the world, and in turn, you protected him from the horrible concoction forged in hell.
Also known as candy bars.