"Portugal?" Antonio said, completely confused as to why he — of all people — was currently stood in the doorway to the meeting room. "What are you doing here?"

"I was invited." João replied.

"May I ask who by?" Spain pressed further. "It's unlike you to—"

"I asked him to."

Spain glanced towards Romano and frowned slightly, as if he thought he'd been hearing things. There was no way that Lovino had invited João to the meeting, especially when it was one of confidence and secrecy between only the countries present. He had to stifle a groan.

Everyone else in the room had a fairly similar reaction. They had no idea why Portugal had shown up upon the Italian's request, considering that as far as they were all aware, they never really spoke. In fact, Spain was the only connection between the two, and even then, Antonio was much closer to Lovino.

Nevertheless, João was stood in the doorway. He gave a small smile to England, who instinctively returned the gesture, though he was still utterly bewildered. The Portuguese man walked casually around the table, hands in pockets, until he came to stop behind his Iberian neighbour. Antonio said nothing.

"I think you and I need a little chat." Portugal said eventually, tired of the silence. He rested a hand on Spain's shoulder. "Outside, of course."

"Of course." Antonio replied, before muttering under his breath: "Lo resolveremos más tarde..."

Lovino glanced down at the table. That was aimed at him, and he knew it. Ever since he'd admitted to asking Portugal to show up, Antonio been staring the Italian. Not with hatred or anger, however, but more with a disappointment and sadness. He felt betrayed, almost. Rising from his seat, Antonio gestured for João to lead the way, and the pair were out of the room within two minutes of Portugal's appearance.

"Looks like fratello isn't going to have any fun tonight, then..." Feliciano mumbled to himself. Unfortunately, Ludwig heard this and elbowed him in response. "OK let's take a break!" he quickly, amiably said.

"Good idea..." Germany said, sighing lightly.

"Right, Japan and I will start preparing for dinner." Arthur stated. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. "It's four o'clock, so shall we say... Food at six?"

A chorus of 'yes's sounded around the room.

"Alright. In the mean time, perhaps someone should locate America and Russia." he continued as he got out of seat, followed by Japan. "They might want filling in on things we've gone through."

"I'll go," Matthew responded, "just give me a minute."

And so once more, the meeting was put on hold. Japan and England were gone, Canada left soon after to go and find his brother, and everyone else stayed in the meeting room, deciding to talk over what matters had been brought up so far.

Yao asked the Italy Brothers more about Pompeii, and it soon evolved into a conversation about Ancient Rome himself; Germany and France managed to start conversing about World War Two without either of them feeling uncomfortable; Prussia  and Sealand had started to discuss the entries that were yet to appear.

Outside, the air was gradually cooling as the Sun started to cast a vast shadow on the rear gardens of the build. Matthew liked it. He'd always preferred the faint coldness of a shadow, the icy touch of snow, the frosty bite of northern winds... As he stepped out into the larger space of the garden, he could hear two voices talking in the near distance. He recognised them almost immediately, and chose to quietly follow them.

"Were you ever not an asshole?"

"You seem to think that history is only the last fifty years of human life. You forget all the time before then. You did not think I was an asshole during my Civil War, after all, if I am remembering correctly."

"Whatever."

"Nyet. Whatever your quarrel with yourself is right now, you need to forget it. You are being extremely selfish, Amerika, and I don't think the others are going to look on that and smile."

"Just piss off, already! Stop lecturing like I'm some little kid, and let me just have some fucking peace!"

'Alfred?' Matthew thought to himself as he worked his way through the long, labyrinthine corridors of the rose maze. 'What the hell have I missed?'

Only a few metres away, Alfred was glaring up at Ivan, who gave no,sort of emotional response in return. He had no idea why Russia of all the possible people who could've looked for him had decided to leave the meeting, but he didn't like it. Tired of talking, arguing and lamenting, the American decided to take a more extreme option, and he rapidly reached for the gun holster under his jacket, and pulled out his pistol. He aimed it at Ivan.

"Ah, of course, the American and his gun." Ivan sighed, shaking his head as he weakly smiled. "Why am I not surprised?"

Alfred smiled. "That wasn't meant to be the surprise."

Before Ivan could question it or even frown, the barrel of the gun have been moved away from Russia and towards the right temple of America's head. He held it there, and felt the cold metal against his skin. He didn't say a word, and neither did the Russian. Truth be told, Ivan wasn't sure what to do to stop Alfred from doing anything stupid... He had to play to his fears, convince him that it was a bad move... But how? How could he possibly...?

A light bulb flicked on above his head.

"We cannot die unless our country ceases to exist." Ivan said sternly. "Canada and England provide only two examples of that, so I'm afraid suicide is not an option, and neither is cowardice."

"It's not cowardice!" Alfred responded hesitantly. "B-But I guess you're right... I can't kill myself..."

"Exactly," he said, "so you can stop being so ridiculous and—"

"But I know a way to make it so it won't be suicide, so you can shove that one back where the Sun doesn't shine!" Alfred declared. He lowered the gun, but held it firmly at his side.

"What do you mean? If it is not suicide, what is it?"

"Maybe 'euthanasia' would be a more accurate term. Putting a friend out of their misery, as it were." he answered as the plan formulated in his head. "Though, not even a friend... Just someone you know..."

"And which role would you play? The killer or the killed?" Ivan probed. He was getting somewhere; maybe he could earn something valuable. Not information, but... Thanks.

"Well, I was kinda planning on letting North Korea decide that one. Either way, I'd end up in the firing-line and get obliterated by someone's nuke, and thus, America would be no more." Alfred elaborated. "I get to bend the rules, free the entire world and see all the old-timers." he smiled. "What more could I want?"

"Oh, yes, I applaud your ingenuity." Russia said. He took a seat on the bench and patted the seat next to him, asking America to sit down with him. The invitation was accepted. "But there is a flaw that rips through it entirely which I am surprised you overlooked, comrade—"

"Don't call me that." Alfred interjected, casting a glare sideways at the Russian.

Ivan hummed and smiled. "I am just trying to get you to understand something very simple, Amerika. What did you think everyone was going to think if you allowed yourself to be defeated and killed? Let me tell you, we would not celebrate your heroism. We would not thank you. We would not even respect your memory. And do you want to know why?"

He turned to the American who looked back seemingly unfazed, as if he wasn't taking what he was being told to heart. Russia had to hand it to him; he either had a really good poker face or he just didn't give a damn and was just as cold inside as he'd expected. Nevertheless, Ivan decided to step up the game a little bit and give Alfred a push in the right direction. He wasn't prepared to lose America to anyone, even to the American himself.

"Because with you out of the way, who is going to stand up against me?" Ivan smiled sweetly.

"But Matt—"

"Will probably be too angry and reclusive to care. If you were gone, I doubt he would mind if I just took the land that was previously yours." he said with a chuckle that set Alfred on edge. "I mean, for all you know, I could set up a military pact with your beloved brother whereby we ultimately govern most of the world. Asia can keep itself to itself, but Europe and the Americas? I will happily take them all under my wing and all memory of you will be wiped out."

"Not if I—"

"You? You are dead in all of this, remember? You had yourself killed by Korea, if I am correct. How could you possibly stop me if you a nothing more than an unwanted memory, a forgotten coward and a failure?"

Alfred got up off the bench and walked away, millions of mixed thoughts running amok in his mind. He knew what Ivan was trying to do — he was just trying to scare him out of it! But Alfred wasn't going to be deterred so easily! But then... Would they really hate him, his family? Would Matthew truly be so angry with Alfred that he'd side with Russia? Would it all be in vain?

He felt two hands come to rest themselves on his shoulders and he flinched at the touch, Russia having made him jump.

"Do you know the best part?" Ivan questioned quietly. "The best part about this is that you get to watch it all. Watch as I kill everyone you cared about while you were alive, and as I do it extremely slowly and painfully, da?"

"But why would you—!"

"Who in their right mind would keep people around who followed after and cared for the previous superpower? People who could easily stand up to them, take back the throne, and undo all of their work?"

Alfred broke away. He threw the gun to the floor, and let out an exasperated sigh, running his fingers through his wheat-coloured hair with a subtle frustration.

"You win." he said.

"What? I didn't quite hear you!" Ivan responded with a knowing smile.

Alfred turned to look at him and frowned. "I said you win, bastard. Y-You win..."

With an almost mute sigh of relief, Ivan thanked the sky and picked up the discarded firearm. He made sure the safety catch was on, before walking back to a pouting, moody America with a small yet smug grin, holding it out to him.

"You might need this." he said.

"What for?"

"Incase I become expansionist." Ivan replied. Alfred took it hesitantly, and asked for an elaboration. "You have permission to shoot my brains out if that happens. As much as it was fun, I do not want another war between us."

America was a bit shocked to be honest, but he took the gun all the same and slotted it back into its holster. Ivan's temperament had changed numerous times during that whole conversation, but just as suddenly, he'd become more gentle and caring, almost. Sure, he was probably just doing it out of self-interest, but Alfred couldn't help but feel that Ivan wasn't as bad as everyone liked to presume...

"Now, I do apologise for being so blunt about this," Ivan said louder as he moved slightly away from America, "but perhaps the little bird who is listening in would like to come out here and stop being so rude, da?"

Freezing in place, Matthew's eyes widened. Had Russia seriously known he'd been there the whole time? And if so, how?! No one ever noticed he was there, so why had that all suddenly changed? He could almost feel the air get colder around him, and deciding not to come across as rude, he reluctantly, stepped around the corner and into the open space of the centre of the maze.

"Ah, Canada, we were just talking about you!" Ivan smiled.

"I know, "he replied softly, "I heard... That and more..."

"Perhaps I should leave you to it..." Russia said as he felt a sort of awkward silence creeping into the area. "I will see both of you inside."

And with that, Ivan left, walking past Canada without any further acknowledgment of either of the North Americans. Taking a deep breath, Matthew marched towards Alfred, who was now looking at him with an apologetic look. Canada was having none of it.

"Mattie, I—"

A slight stinging tingled across his left cheek. Alfred was speechless.

"Don't you ever, ever do anything like that again!" Matthew yelled, tears now threatening to pour. "I've watched myself go down the drain, I am not going to let you fall too! What the hell were you thinking?! God, how selfish can you be?!"

"It never stopped you..."

Matthew paused. He was right. Alfred was one-hundred percent right, and they both knew it. He didn't know what else to saw, how to further the argument, how to even begin to apologise for his mistakes. There were so many people he must've hurt without realising it. Alfred, Arthur, Francis... Gilbert... Gil...

"Oh my god, what have I done?" he whispered to himself. "I-I... He-he..."

He looked at Alfred and the tears unleashed themselves in an unprecedentedly rapid rate, water staining his cheek and breaths catching in his throat. Alfred didn't know what was happening, but he instinctively wrapped his arms around his brother and held him tight. He rested his head on his shoulder, and just... held him.

"It's OK, Mattie. We all do silly things, and we may come to regret them, but that doesn't make us bad people..." he said quietly. "Hearing what you tried to do hurt me immensely, but you have to understand that... It's not your fault..."

"Bu-ut I d-did it to m-myself..."

"But it's my fault for not noticing and not helping," Alfred replied, "and I promise you that from now on, you're my priority. OK?"

Matthew squeezed his brother a bit more for extra comfort, "O-OK..."

"Good... That's good, Mattie..."

"A-And in return, I-I promise to look after you, n-no matter what... OK?"

"OK."

"OK..."

"Is OK our 'always'?" Alfred mumbled with a faint smile.

"I guess so..." Matthew replied, a small laugh escaping past his lips.

"OK."

"OK, I get it!"

"OK!"

"Alfred!"

"OK, I'm sorry!"

<><><>

OK? OK— *slapped by Canada*

Translation because we shouldn't trust Google Translate (or anyone else . . . I have trust issues . . .):
Lo resolveremos más tarde - We'll settle this later

DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT GUYS, JFC, CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS ALWAYS NEEDED, YOU KNOW! *BREAKSDown*

Next chapter of Split will be released this evening, so stay tuned!