As the old saying goes, "Life is an adventure...."

"Well, if you consider working your butt off for a strict, annoying, antisocial, strange, nonchalant, green-eyed, Can't-Make-Up-His-Own-Dang-Mind-Half-Of-The-Time, British blonde, then yeah. Life is an adventure," Kalda ranted to herself in frustration.

She knew that Britain could be weird at times, so that didn't help her out much.

Kalda had also personally thought that he acted nice just to get her riled up as well.

She didn't know what Britain's motives were, if he even had any, so he could be quite confusing and mysterious to her sometimes.

There were times when he was playful, too, but Kalda thought that Britain being the opposite of himself was all just a part of his plan.

"You understand me, right, little bird?" Kalda asked the bird sitting on the windowsill next to her as she cleaned the open window.

"You have to get both sides," Britain had told Kalda earlier.

"Great," Kalda had replied sarcastically. "You're lucky that I even have the skills for that."

The bird just chirped in answer, and Kalda sighed as she broke out of her thoughts.

"Of course you wouldn't understand me," she said with a smile. "You're an animal for goodness sake."

Kalda groaned, putting her forehead on her forearms.

"Why am I talking to a bird?" she questioned to herself.

The bird just chirped again, and Kalda looked up to see that the small creature was nuzzling her.

"Aw," Kalda giggled, stroking its head with the tip of her pointer finger, "you're such a darling. If only Britain was as nice to me as you are. Maybe not super cuddly, but at least quiet and willing enough to let me rant to him about stuff."

The bird chirped a third time and flew away, and Kalda chuckled to herself.

England sure is wonderful, she thought with a smile. The landscape is so beautiful, a real change in pace from Italy and Russia.

She got back to cleaning the window, wanting to get the task done.

Kalda suddenly started to sing for no reason, for she had always loved music, so she sang whenever she was alone.

"Draw a circle, that's the earth," Kalda sang softly, wiping the glass, "draw a circle, that's the earth, draw a circle, that's the earth, I am Hetalia."

Feliciano had taught her that song when she was younger, and Kalda had loved it ever since.

"Ahh! You can see the magnificent world with just a single stroke of a brush," Kalda continued.

She couldn't remember the last phrase at that very moment, so she just hummed the rest of the song.

"Kalda," a voice interrupted, making Kalda stop singing to herself.

"Yeah?" Kalda calmly asked, looking at Britain.

"First off, get down from the windowsill," Britain told her, being calm as well. "You're going to fall and get hurt, and then I'll be the one responsible for your injury. You're brothers and Russia would kill me if they ever found out."

"Aw, you're such a worrier," Kalda giggled with a grin, jumping off of the windowsill with no problem.

Britain sighed once he saw Kalda jump down from the windowsill, not too fond of her childish behavior.

"Quit acting like a child," he scolded her. "You're in my house now, so I expect you to act like a lady."

"Yes, Mister Britain," Kalda smirked, giving him a curtsie just to rile him up.

"Oh, for the love of the world," Britain muttered to himself, already getting a headache. "Anyway, have you seen my book lying around here?"

"You have to be more specific," Kalda told him. "You read a lot of books, so it's kinda' hard to keep track."

"I guess you have a valid point there," Britain agreed. "I'm talking about the book that I was reading when you were here a few weeks ago."

"Oh," Kalda drawled, smiling as she recalled seeing that book lying around earlier that day. "I know exactly where that one is."

"You do?" Britain asked, a pleased smile on his face.

"Well, duh," Kalda cheerfully replied. "You left it on the dining room table after breakfast this morning. I noticed it lying there, so then I put it back and onto the bookshelf."

Kalda led him over to the living room bookshelf, reading all of the titles and authors' names on the spines of each book before grabbing the one that she was looking for.

"Here you go," Kalda smiled, handing Britain his book. "Right where I had left it this morning."

"Thank you," Britain replied, his smile growing. "I don't know what I would have done if this one went missing."

"What's so special about it?" Kalda wondered, hoping that he would tell her.

"Well, this book has been in my family for quite some time. It's very old, and the last copy of the original story that was ever created that's still left in existence today," Britain happily explained.

"Whoa," Kalda whispered in awe. "So then where's the original?"

"Ground to dust with old age in a library somewhere, I suppose," Britain answered, seeming to be a little sad.

Kalda could tell how sad he was because his smile softened to almost nothing.

"Oh," Kalda said sadly. "It must be a pretty great book if you like to read it so much."

"I would be very happy to lend it to you when I'm done reading it, if you would like?" Britain offered, walking away without even letting Kalda answer him.

What? Kalda asked herself. Why would you do that? Especially for...me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Clean my room," he said. "It'll be fun," he said. "Don't touch any of my stuff or else I'll kill you," he said," Kalda grumbled to herself, folding up Britain's laundry.

Kalda sighed, putting his best military outfit on a hanger and putting it in the closet.

"At least everything in here is clean," Kalda added on.

As Kalda walked over to fold some more of his clothes, she hit something with her right foot that she assumed was under his bed.

Kalda ignored it at first, thinking that it was something personal or just a wooden box.

She shifted in her standing position, hitting the object a second time.

This time, she didn't fight the urge to ignore it.

Kalda bent down on her knees, looking under his bed.

Kalda sighed, remembering Britain's earlier words.

"Remember that I'm putting all of my trust in you, which I hardly ever do with anyone, so if I see that you've touched something, I'll have no choice but to punish you," Britain's words stated, popping into her mind.

"Maybe just one little peek couldn't hurt....?" Kalda questioned, but then she shook her head as if to clear it.

She stood up, not wanting to betray Britain's trust in her.

"I'm sure that he would know," Kalda assured herself. "He's smarter than that."

Kalda finished folding and hanging up his clothes, putting them away.

She fixed his bed, making it look nice and professional.

Kalda also dusted his shelves and bedside table, even the vintage oil lamp, wanting to make his roon shine like a hotel suite.

She cleaned his window, wanting to make him proud of her for going the extra mile.

Kalda swept his floor, double checking everything, smiling to herself in joy and happiness once she noticed that her job was done.

She called for Britain to come and see his room, and she laughed at his shocked face.

"I say, this is magnificent, Kalda," Britain told her, clearly impressed.

"Well," Kalda smirked, "I do have a little magic in me when I put my mind to something."

"I can tell," Britain smiled. "Keep up the good work, and I might give you a surprise at the end of the week as a gift."

"That sounds dangerous," Kalda joked in a laugh as the two walked down the staircase together. "And here I thought that you didn't like me."

"I don't," Britain joked back, "but I have very strict housing rules when it comes to guests."

"And your maids," Kalda added with a wink.

"Now you know that's not the term that I use to describe you," Britain calmly assured her. "You're much more than that."

Kalda blushed a little, so she cleared her throat so that she didn't get lost in his beautiful, green eyes.

"I better go finish my chores," Kalda told him. "Those flowers outside aren't going to plant themselves."

Kalda quickly walked away from him and went outside, entering the garden to get some fresh air.

What the heck was that? Kalda scolded herself. You don't like the guy, remember?

Kalda sighed, getting on her hands and knees to start gardening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dear diary,

I don't want to believe it, but I could have sworn that I had seen Kalda blush earlier.

It was actually quite strange, considering that I might have said something and accidentally given her an idea that I like her.

It's not that I don't like her, well, perhaps I don't right now, or at all, but she's a hard-worker and a naturally good girl.

I'm impressed with how well she can clean, organize, cook, garden, wash, basically do anything.

I hope to find out the reason on why she enjoys doing hard tasks soon, so I guess this is good-bye for now.

~ Arthur Kirkland."

Britain sighed as he closed his diary, looking out of his window to see Kalda in the garden.

He could have been imagining things, but he could have sworn that she was talking to a squirrel.

He decided to go out and join her, attempting a little spying while he was at it.

"....And I mean it works sometimes, but you can never trust growing roses in the shade," Kalda continued, looking at the brown squirrel.

Britain was seriously thinking that Kalda was insane, but then he remembered that he talked to his imaginary friends whenever no one was watching, so he knew that this couldn't be any different.

"Well, that makes sense and all, but do you really think that Britain would like roses, anyway?" a quiet voice answered.

Wait a second, Britain gasped. I know that voice. What on earth is he doing here?

He quietly and secretly walked into the garden, hiding behind a tree.

Britain saw Canada sitting on a bench, understanding the situation now.

I figured as much, he told himself. It was only a matter of time before he met Kalda on his own.

"I mean, they plant roses all of the time in France," Kalda replied. "Why would this be any different? Besides, whenever I think of England, I always think of roses."

She did not just compare my home to France! Britain huffed. Nothing that perverted blonde does will ever compare to the stunning beauty of England! I'll have a very long talk with her about this once Canada leaves.

He decided to listen in on their conversation agan, hoping that Canada could persuade Kalda into thinking that England and France were two very different cultures.

"I don't think that Britain would like to hear that," Canada answered. "He gets very upset whenever France is mentioned."

"Why?" Kalda wondered. "Did something bad happen between them or something?"

"They just argue a lot," Canada stated. "Just like how America argues with everyone else."

"I guess it just runs in the family," Kalda grinned.

Canada left after Kalda had said that, so Britain had now decided to make his prescence known to Kalda.

Boy, is she going to get quite the scare, Britain grinned to himself.

"Roses remind you of England, hm?" he asked, and Kalda instantly stood up in fright.

"I didn't mean it like that!" she pleaded. "I swear that I didn't, Mister Britain!"

Britain covered his ears, not liking her yelling.

"Calm down," he sighed. "I heard the whole thing, and...I think that what you're doing is...nice. The garden could use a pop of color, anyway."

"Wait," Kalda answered. "You're...not mad at me?"

"Think of it as a sentiment," Britain replied, cracking a kind smile.

He looked down at the flower bed, hoping that he could do something as well.

"Would you like some help?" he wondered, looking at her.

"You want to help me?" Kalda smirked sarcastically. "Since when?"

"Since now," Britain smirked back, taking off his suit jacket to reveal his white, short-sleeved shirt.

He got on his hands and knees, putting on some gardening gloves.

"If I try to tell you to go away, you're just going to help me, aren't you?" Kalda answered.

"Of course," Britain replied. "A gentleman always helps a lady."

Kalda sighed, kneeling next to him.

She picked up a few seeds, putting them in his gloved palm so that Britain could put them in the dirt.

"I'm not much of a lady, if you ask me," Kalda said. "I'm actually far from it."

"Well, I don't think so," Britain told her. "You just need some guidance."

"Well, you clearly haven't been in my shoes, then," Kalda chuckled, but it sounded empty.

"Care to fill me in?" Britain inquired, looking at where he was pouring the water from the water bucket instead of looking at her.

"Not particularly," Kalda replied. "I don't like sharing my feelings that much. The only people who know are Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia."

Britain chuckled in amusement, wanting to know her story on that.

"You told those three?" he wondered. "How did that come up in a conversation? More importantly, what was Russia's face like?"

"Russia wasn't there at the time, actually," Kalda stated, "and the three of them just asked me about it."

"Well I asked," Britain pointed out, "but if you don't want to tell me, I won't push you."

Kalda snickered, but then busted out in laughter.

"What's so funny?" Britain questioned in confusion, looking at her.

"Well," Kalda said, looking at the ground, "it's just...that's the nicest, most gentlemanly thing that you've said to me this whole time that we've known each other."

"And that's funny to you how?" Britain inquired.

"I guess...I just didn't expect you to say that, is all," Kalda smiled.

She stood up, dusting her dress off.

"We can plant more tomorrow," she promised. "The sun is setting, and those white roses don't like to grow in the shade."

"How do you know so much about gardening?" Britain grinned as he stood up as well, taking off his gloves.

Kalda shrugged, not really having an answer for him.

"Experience, I guess," she replied. "Part of it is because my uncle Spain likes to garden, too. He basically taught me everything that I know."

"Well, you are a smart lady," Britain told her. "Come on. I can make us some tea, so that we can talk more inside."

Kalda nodded in agreement as she follower him into the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kalda realized that she had seen a side of Britain that she hadn't even known was there.

I guess that just goes to show how much people are a mystery to me, Kalda thought to herself.

Although, Kalda had to admit that it was nice to be treated like an adult for once and not have anyone always on her case every waking second like her brothers did with her.

Still, Kalda wasn't really sure why Britain was so nice to her earlier that day.

He was usually more strict on Wednesdays.

Kalda had seen and memorized his work schedule, being the creepy stalker that she was.

She sighed as she curled up in her bed covers, wanting to get some rest.

Kalda decided to lie on her back, then, looking up at the ceiling.

The moonlight that was shining through the window gave her small room an eerie feeling, but Kalda didn't seem to mind it.

I guess this day was a "secret share day," Kalda thought to herself as she rolled over and onto her side. I learned something about Britain, and he learned something about me.

She closed her eyes, a small smile on her face.

I wonder if my week with Russia will be as eventful as this week with Britain was? Kalda questioned in wonder, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.