Author's Note: This was a requested SongFic written to the song Holiday by Green Day. Pairings: ReaderxItaly, ReaderxJapan, ReaderxSwitzerland, and ReaderxAmerica. Enjoy~!

"Hear the sound of the falling rain,

Coming down like an Armageddon flame.

The shame; the ones who died without a name."

Cheerful smile dimmed by war, Italy glanced at you to find you already staring softly at him. The Italian wanted nothing more than to be in your arms as the rain beat against the window pane. But he was so fragile that he feared he would fall apart if you touched him.

"Italy," you walked to where he was sitting, "you haven't touched your pasta."

Laughing nervously as you plopped beside him, Italy shakily replied, "Ahahaha~! That is okay, v-ve~! I-I'm not too hungry anyway." Outside, the rain quickened, thunder firing across the sky suddenly. Alarmed, Italy's smile was vanquished by vulnerability. He looked frantically at you.

Startled by the fear coursing through his eyes, you reached across the table to hold him. The minute your arms closed around his neck, his hands clung to your shoulders, pulling at your shirt. Burying his nose in your neck, Italy started crying.

War destroyed him.

"Hear the dogs howling out of key:

To a hymn called "Faith and Misery";

And bleed, the company lost the war today."

"W-we lost Iwo Jima…"

Dark brown eyes shadowed by descending lashes, Japan clenched his fists. How many men would it take to secure safety for his nation? You approached him carefully, not wanting to startle him. "Japan?" He flinched, no matter how softly you said his name. Weakened by war, he glanced over his shoulder wearily.

"Ah, hello." He managed a tight smile. "Do not worry. Everything is under control."

Doubt closed in on your heart. Striding towards him as he stood to greet you, you struggled not to claim him in your arms. Noticing your concerned expression, Japan smiled gently and swept a smooth hand over your face, caressing your cheeks like a breeze. When you looked up to meet his eyes, your insides coiled.

War etched sorrow into his face with a blade of hope.

"Hear the drum pounding out of time;

Another protester has crossed the line;

To find, the money's on the other side."

"There is so much profit in war, despite losing everything of importance."

Switzerland scowled out his window, foot grazing the gun at his side. He detested war, whether it was in his country or not. He could hear the drums beating like thunder in the distance, he could see weaponry flashing across the sky like lightning. When you entered the room with Liechtenstein holding your hand tightly, he whipped around, clearly on guard.

"What are you two doing in here?" Switzerland muttered. "It's safer in your rooms."

"I-I wanted to be with you, Switzi," Liechtenstein whispered fearfully.

Guiding her to Switzerland, you smiled meekly as he exhaled heavily, standing. War threatened everything that was precious to him and it frustrated him to no end. Accepting Liechtenstein into one of his arms, he held her against him and then looked at you. Flushing, green eyes narrowing, he said, "Thank you for coming." The pain reflected in his eyes prevented you from saying anything. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek, frowning sadly.

War unsettled him.

"Can I get another Amen?

There's a flag wrapped around a score of men;

A gag, a plastic bag on a monument."

"Man, who knew we would have to use that?"

Tremble in his voice, America reeled over his desk, shoulders shaking. Watching him from the doorway, you looked at Britain for an answer. Britain stood beside him, murmuring, "You did what you had to do."

Stepping across the threshold and into the room, you walked to America's side. "What happened?"

America flinched. Britain murmured, "Japan was bombed."

Horror expanding your gaze, you didn't know what to do as America shoved himself away from the desk, wobbling. In a split second, his arms were thrown around you and he was gripping you for support. Britain looked away, unable to witness America fall to pieces for the second time that hour.

War handed him a blade and forced him to etch misery.

"Sieg Heil to the president Gasman,

Bombs away is your punishment.

Pulverize the Eiffel towers,

Who criticize your government.

Bang-bang goes the broken glass and

Kill all the f**** that don't agree.

Trials by fire, setting fire,

Is not a way that's meant for me.

Just cause, just cause, because we're outlaws yeah!"

"This is the end."

Injured nations staggered across the room during the World Meeting. Everyone was quiet. Whether they suffered as a victim, a fighter, a bystander, or a victor, every country was haunted by their wrongdoings. Italy was more timid. Japan was more distant. Switzerland was more irritable. America was more forceful.

Soon, the pain would fade but it would leave behind unforgettable scars.

"This is our lives on holiday."