---Chapter XIX: Hide and Seek (Part 2)--- 

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"We have the key to the front door, fratello."

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  //Romano's PoV (Well, don't think you could just forget about us, idiota!)//


I felt the thundering of my heart caged within my chest as soon as the words left my brother's lips. For the longest time, it was what we all wanted to hear. It was what we always wanted to cry out, what we always hoped for.


And now it's here.


Trying to stop myself from reacting out of place, I cleared my throat. "...I-Is that true? Does that mean..."


"...Fratello, we can finally...finally leave this place."



Not even knowing the truth nor the story behind his words, I can tell that Veneziano was elated, euphoric, and had this tired look in his eyes that spoke how much he is relieved by the fact that they attained a single item.


And that soft crack in his voice that wants to cry out,


"Finally, it's over."


I want to say it. I want to congratulate him. Congratulate us. I want to tell him how glad I am to hear the news. I want to tell him how proud I am that he has survived through all the tragic events he's been through. I want to share that joy he's feeling right now. I want to breathe the same breath of relief that he let out upon hearing the news.

I just want to be happy with my fratello.


Taking short, shaky steps toward Veneziano, I was about to tell him everything. I wanted to express everything.


But...


A hand was placed on my shoulder, stopping me from taking a step further. Spain pulled me aside, at a good distance from Veneziano, his nature turned quiet and the glint in his green eyes was serious.


"Romano..." I heard Spain whisper. As I turned to the side to face him, I understood the look he was giving. I didn't actually like it. It was a look that's mixed with pity and comfort.


With a voice as hushed as he could, Spain spoke, "I know you love your brother with all your heart, but the Ita in front of us...that's not your brother, Romano."


I felt like the world around me went into a complete standstill.


"...that's not your brother, Romano."


Feeling slightly angered, I pushed him a step backwards. "What do you mean he isn't my brother, huh? Can't you see? That's mi fratello over there. Italy Veneziano."


"Roma...you know what I meant by that. That person over there is Italy...but he's an Italy of the past. He's not from our timeloop. Our Ita is still back...in our current timeloop...he's..." Spain looked away, not planning on continuing his sentence.

My eyes darkened as I heard his reasoning. "Tell me, Spain. Veneziano from our timeloop...is he alive and well?"

"H-He's..." the Spaniard stammered as he looked back at me, knowing very well that my brother's condition back in our current timeloop was far from alright.


Gritting my teeth, I averted his gaze. "He's in cardiac arrest. He isn't waking up. He isn't breathing. His heart, no longer beating. No matter how much I tried to cry out to him, he wouldn't respond."

"But there's still a chance, Romano," he told me, trying to convince me that his words held some faith in them.

I felt like I reached boiling point. "Stop saying the things that I want to hear, but are far from happening! Blatantly lying like this, do you have any idea how much it hurts?!"

"...He's as good as dead, and we both know that," I choked out, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.


"Fratello, w-what's wrong?" Past!Italy called out from afar, visibly worried about my argument with Spain.


Furiously wiping the tears away with my sleeve, I shook my head. "It's nothing, fratello. I was uh, just mad at Spain for being a stupid tomato bastardo."


Past!Italy gave an understanding chuckle. "Ehehe~ I see, nothing far from usual, then!"

"Uhm...where are the others, then?" I asked, trying to avoid having him ask me any other questions about the conversation earlier.

Gesturing towards the door, Past!Italy spoke, "They're gathering downstairs, why don't we head down, as well?" He smiled, and turned to Spain. "You, too, Spain!"

The brown haired Spaniard looked less cheery than normal, but he nodded vigorously to mask his lack of enthusiasm. "Okay!"

Past!Italy went on ahead and went out into the hallway, beckoning us to follow him. I followed suit, and so did Spain.

And as the green-eyed Spaniard passed by me, I heard him speak in a softened tone,

"...I'm going to believe in you and your decisions, Romano. I just hope that whatever it is, it's what really makes you happy. I think that's what Ita would want."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-==--=-

-Italy and Past!Japan

///Italy's PoV///

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"Live."  

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  The faint creak as a trembling hand closed the wooden door shut was all that echoed throughout the hallway. That, and the sound of our pounding hearts that were practically audible from the nightmarish event that just happened to us moments ago.

After that fight...and the loss of an important friend, I can feel my breath staggering. Sweat was trickling down my face...or so I wished it was.


".......Why...?" my voice cracked noticeably as I tried wiping away the tears.


Past!Japan was also shaking, yet did his best to mask it for my sake, I can tell. "I-Italy, let's...let's get out of here, already, quickly..." he told me in a hushed voice that was almost breaking as well.

"....Out....how...?" I unconsciously asked aloud, forgetting that he still doesn't know that we were trapped in this treacherous mansion. Past!Japan looked at me for a moment, "Downstairs, the front door is just downstairs, Italy.."

"I..." Despite wanting to just tell Japan straight up that this was a hopeless situation, I had to play my cards the best that I could. "V-Ve, you're right. Let's go. Before...anything else appears again."

As Past!Japan was already heading towards the stairs, I turned around to face the door and felt my eyes watering again. Prussia...

I wanted to at least say goodbye before we head off to come what may. Twisting the knob, I slowly pushed the door slightly...but then stopped.


If I see him again, my resolve to follow his wishes would most probably break. I'm sure Prussia wants us to quickly find a way to escape from this inevitable tragedy.


"Live."

Tightening my grip on the blank book he gave me before he lost his life, I let go of the door knob and went to catch up to Past!Japan, not even noticing that I failed to close the door.



Not realising that the room was already completely empty.


-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

//Seborga's PoV//

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Before I could even find a direction to run to, the grey alien monster already emerged from the bushes and spotted me.

"Dio mi salvi."

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  All I could do what frantically compose millions of mental prayers as I was frozen in place, cornered by the grey creature. I don't have any weapons, nor do I had the strength or power to physically attack the large, unindentifiable entity. The steps it took on the ground gave out a hollow thud, my heartbeat somehow mimicking the intensity as my breathing became laboured. Knowing how you have no escape from a life-threatening situation sure can suffocate a handsome Italian like myself. I was already safe earlier, I wouldn't have been in this situation...but I knew...I knew that Ladonia was still out here, and I knew that I couldn't just leave the kid alone.

"I have no regrets." I gave a shaky smile, not averting my eyes from the monster anymore. Its eyes were a darker shade of grey, still and soulless but...somehow, compared to the others we fought, there was something strange.


A faint glimmer.


And an unsettling sound...



Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock



....of a clock.


Upon recognition of the sound, I darted my green eyes towards the monster's small, distorted hands. There it was. It was holding a small clock, similar to the ones the nations were searching for. As I looked back up and somehow met the monster's gaze, I was a bit held back. It was as if...


Without much warning, the creature raised its hand and threw the small clock towards me. Almost like a reflex action, I jumped to my side and caught it just time. (Get it?) It made me stumble a little, but I managed to balance myself by leaning on a tree. I caught it, the small clock felt a bit heavy in my hands, it sure did feel like an antique. But to be honest, that shouldn't be the detail I should be focusing on at the moment.


"......sA.......H....r.....oM........m...." the alien-like monster garbled an eerie message that had tinge of...desperation in them? Needless to say, before I could even properly collect what was happening, the monster slowly faded away. Slowly.... Repeating garbled messages as it began to dissipate from my view.


"......h.....p......t.......es.....time....."


"....'time'..?"


"......k.....s.....m..v....f.......rd...."


"......s...av....e....."

"....'save'..? Save? Save who? What?"


"..........u........s...."


"A-Aspetta un momento! I--"


And then it vanished completely.


Its disappearance somehow washed a wave of relief and confusion upon me, making me lose the strength in my knees. I slid down to the ground, leaning my back against the tree trunk for support.


I held the clock on my lap, my gloved hand brushing off its dust. "...What is all this supposed to mean...?"


As I was trying to catch my breath, it hitched up again once I heard the something or someone rustling through the bushes.


"Ah." A low sound of acknowledgement left the blonde Swede's lips as he saw me sitting on the ground unscathed. The Swedish man gave a soft sigh, it was somehow reassuring how he seemed to be relieved to see me in one piece.


"THERE YOU ARE, SEBORGA."


The sound of a young lad's loud expression blasted through the speakers of the laptop that Sweden gingerly held in his hand. Sweden opened it, allowing the redhaired lad project himself out of the screen. "I can't believe you did that! And I can't believe you're alive??!" the kid said, obviously happy and relieved, but didn't want to exactly let it show.

"Ehe. It's nice to see you, too, Ladonia." I chuckled, truly glad to see everyone safe. Standing up, I dusted my clothes and turned to Sweden. "I'm sorry for worrying everyone. Shall we head back to where the others are?"

"Mm." Sweden nodded in agreement. As we were walking back, Ladonia was circling around me, lowkey checking if I was really uninjured or unharmed. Smiling at the gesture, I winked at him. "Thank you for worrying, mi amico, but I'm really alright!"

"W-What? Whoever said I was worried, huh??" Ladonia huffed, looking away embarrassed. "I was just wondering how that monster didn't, uhm, bite you or something."

"I am also baffled by that, myself, honestly." I scratched my cheek a bit. Sweden slightly turned to me and his eyes fell to the object I held.


"'nd the clock?"


I gave a troubled look that showed him that I was just as curious about it as he is. "I am not exactly sure, either, but I will inform everyone of what I just encountered."


"Mm. 'kay."


As I stared at the clock in my hands, I couldn't help but feel like we found something important. Ladonia's attention then fixated onto the clock. "Hm? Where did you get this, Seborga?" he asked, tilting his head as he reached for the antique ornament.


"Oh. Well, it's--"


But as Ladonia's small fingers met with the small clock's wooden frame, an unseen force suddenly sparked and resonated in the air.


Glitch.


And Ladonia was gone.


-=-=-=-=-==-=-

//Reader's PoV//


Creaking floorboards and careful footsteps played through the halls like a cautious melody, slightly nerved by the mix of familiarity and unfamiliarity brought upon us by the mansion's change in interior.

Allen was walking in front of me, one hand resting in a pocket of his bomber jacket and the other gripping his nail-covered bat that was being dragged idly by his side. We weren't talking much, probably because the both of us had a lot on our minds. He was trying to sort out what Holy Roman Empire told us earlier, too, I suppose.

We were walking around the second floor already. Not much was actually found, just rubble and dust. Both of us were silently admitting that it was starting to grow both eerie, and frankly boring without having much to do.

Well, until Allen seemed to have unconsciously started whistling a familiar tune as we walked around.


"...Hey, Al?"

He paused and replied, "Yeah, doll?"


"That tune you were whistling, I think I've heard it before. What song is it?"


"....Huh. Dunno to be honest..? I just whistled it. Ain't too sure which song it is."


Sighing, I shrugged. "Oh. Okay, then--"



The sound of the waves crashing against the shore.


Faintly.


I can faintly hear the water....


The sea...


And a strained cry asking someone not to go.




"(Name)!"



"(Name)!"



"(NAME)! Dollface, come back to me here!"


As I snapped out of my dreamless daze, I realised that my shoulders were being shooked by a redhaired American. "A-Allen?"

"Yeah...I..." Relief seemed to wash over him as I finally responded. He loosened his grip on my shoulders and let his hand drop back to his sides. Running his fingers through his hair, he ruffled his locks albeit quite confused. "Goddamn, doll. Warn me first next time ya decide to sleep with yer eyes open, huh?" he told me humourlessly, the worry still evident.

"S-Sorry, I didn't know..." I replied, rubbing my arm. He sighed. "What happened to ya, anyways?"


"The sea."


"What?"


"I don't know why, but I felt like I was by the sea."


Allen fell silent for some reason, appearing to not like the topic. The air between us suddenly turned a bit tense, making me shift in place. As I did, I noticed that there was a small object beside my foot. Crouching down, I picked it up. My eyes widened as I recognised an object I identified special to a certain someone.

"Whaddya have there, dollface?" Allen decided to break the silence, but still not meeting my gaze.


As I was starting to somehow piece together my previous vision, I replied in a hushed voice.


"A toy soldier."


Something about those three simple words caused the American to slowly crack.


"No," he shook his head. Gritting his teeth, he finally looked my way and stretched out his hand. "I ain't havin' none of that shit! Gimme the damn toy so I can break it into fuckin' pieces!" Allen growled.

I was suddenly alarmed by his change in attitude. "W-Wait, Allen, what the heck is going on with you?!"

"I don't wanna fuckin' talk about that bastard's shitty sap story! This just makes me remember why the fuck I wanted to kill him." his tone darkened, his aura was starting to become as dangerous as it was before he decided to make truce with the First Players. This can't be good. But what was he going on about, though? I need to understand...

"Allen, if you just tell me..." I trailed, hiding the toy soldier behind my back, away from him.


The brusque American was riling up when the toy soldier I held suddenly glowed faintly--until the glow turned into a flash and the flash of light enveloped us in whiteness, not knowing what was happening to us.


Well, until we heard the sea.


-=-=-=-=-


"Don't go, England!"

"I'll be back soon, America, I promise."

"But..."


The scene playing before me was familiar. It was. It was something I have seen before through the screen.

It was a scene where the young America would watch the ship England had aboarded to head back to his home country sail away, leaving the younger nation all...alone.

The broken look on the child's face was apparent. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes as he dashed away from the seashore.


It was at that moment I've come to notice that Allen was beside me, practically trembling in...anger..? It seemed to be a mix of anger, pity, resentment, and...and that distant look in his eyes that looked so empathic to the loneliness that filled the air as the scene played earlier.


The thing that was bothering me here was that this time was way before the World Wars erupted, so how could Allen possibly feel something before his existence?


None of us dared to say a word, but we both seemed to have agreed on following the child version of America to his house.


We found the kid playing all by himself, sitting on the floor and holding....his toy soldiers.


The energy of the child was gone, his cheery spirit was dampened by the loneliness he felt now that his company was off to the other side of the ocean. For someone that young to experience it, it was truly heartbreaking.

And Allen just stood beside me with a nostalgic look on his face.


I couldn't help it anymore. Braving myself for my action, I whispered, "Allen, why does it seem like you've gone through this before? Isn't this time way long before the wars occurred?"

At first he seemed a bit angry, pissed off, even. "Doll..." He tried to simmer down his temper and sighed.

"Not all wars occur in the battlefield."


Furrowing my brows, I pressed the matter further. "...What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Sometimes, it happens close to home. Close to our hearts. Sometimes, it just happens within us, at our most vulnerable times. Sometimes, it happens without warning. It just suddenly attacks us while our defenses are down. We become innocent civilians of our own war, without any guns or armor." Allen was talking in such a serious yet distant tone, as if he was being wallowed up by something dark. His accent is even changing, and formality was clear in his voice.


We could see America's small form crying out senselessly at this point. Punching pillows, staining it with tears and shoving his face into it. The child's muffled cries could be heard as he buried his face onto the soft fabric. Oh, how the loneliness he felt came to the extremes. Allen just stared at the child as he continued, "In a total war, we get injured by the enemy who never considered that we didn't deserve to be hurt so ruthlessly. We run, we scream, we beg. We beg the enemy to cease their fire. We beg them for mercy. We beg them to stop. As we fall to our knees before the enemy, we notice them looking down on us. And we look up, up to them to beg them once more to stop."

"But as we do, we come to discern the most heartbreaking realization that the enemy...the enemy was a complete reflection of ourselves." Young America stumbled across the room and tripping on the floor helplessly. When he sat up, the gaze in his eyes grew cold, as if he had been consumed by the complete belief that he was there all alone.


Or so he thought.


At this point, Allen raised his hand and pointed towards something for me to see. He pointed towards a mirror that was stood across the young American child whose sky blue eyes widened in surprise as he saw his own reflection.


Or was it really his?


In front of him, the child reflected back to him by the mirror was of a child with the same stature as his--except the other had a darker skin tone, red hair...and soulless, crimson orbs that flickered dangerously in the light.


Once I saw the mirrored child look up, I had no doubts on who he was. It was America's Second Player. I softly whispered, "....Allen..."


The American Second Player beside me let out another sigh, shaky this time.


"It was just us all along."



From a distance, we saw how the young America noticed his own reflection, and how it seemed not to quite to be his, after all.


"Y-You're not me..!" Young America cried out in confusion.


The young American Second Player smirked, but his crimson eyes caged in the all-too familiar loneliness, as well. "I am."




"I'm you, America."