Chapter XX: Awakening (Part 2)

Her face lit up when I recognized her. "Flavio--"

My face darkened.

"--Who the fuck do you think you are, huh, ragazza?"

///Reader's PoV///

Huh?

Why is Flavio mad?

I...tried to comfort him, didn't I?

I felt dumbfounded. I said what I had to say, didn't I? He was succumbing to his negative thoughts, so I shed light to help him look at things in a more positive way.

What was wrong with that?

"I...don't get it..." I blurted out. "I'm here to help you. If you're feeling down, I'm here."

"I DON'T NEED YOUR GODDAMN HELP, RAGAZZA!" Flavio angrily shouted as he pushed me away from him. "I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY. I DON'T NEED YOUR COMFORT. THIS IS ABOUT ME, NOT YOU!"

I tried to read his emotions, but it was all over the place. 

I've played the game, watched how it all played out... I knew the characters. I've read wikis, fanfics...every possible source of knowledge I had on these Hetalia characters...

I was supposed to know what to do. 

What to say.

How to act.

How to feel. 

But that wasn't all there was to it. 

"Ragazza, if you thought that you knew everything about me, think again. If you thought you knew how to console me, think again. If you thought you knew how excruciating things are for me right now, think again!" Flavio grabbed the collar of my shirt. 

Just because I thought I knew everything about them, doesn't mean I can help them solve all their problems. 

Even if they were fictional characters in my reality, they're as much as a human as I am right now. 

They're unpredictable. 

They're sensitive.

They're...confused, scared, sad....

"I'm different from the Flavio Vargas you knew from your world. I'm the real deal. This me---this version of me, is who I really am." He let go of me. "Do you think I'm some pansy that needed flowery words to feel better? Was the me portrayed in your world that weak?"

We won't ever know their whole story, no matter how long we've known them. There will always be a side of them that you will never know or understand. 

"Why does every one think that they know us--that they understand us?!" Flavio's trembling hands ran through his golden hair as he slumped down against the wall. "My counterpart, those First Players...and you." He glared at me with crimson orbs, his angered expression tinted with sadness...and fatigue. "I'm tired, (Name)...I'm really tired."

The Southern Italian buried his face in his hands as he cried. "I know... you're a good person. You were the one who gave us hope. Not only...did you save my brother...you saved me, too."

"But...this baggage that I have with me, is mine to carry and no one else's." He looked up at me, tears still streaming down his face. Flavio gave a bittersweet smile.

I slowly sat down beside him. "Flavio...I'm here. I may not be able to fully understand everything you've went through...but I'll be here for you. You don't even need to tell me everything...You don't need to explain if you don't want to..."

Gently patting his head, and letting him rest on my shoulder, I spoke to him softly. "I know you'll be carrying that baggage yourself, but it doesn't mean I can't walk beside you while you do."

"Grazie, (Name)." 

His warm smile felt really genuine, it was a lot different from his usual forced, flashy smiles. Everyone else found it annoying that he was too cheery, but in truth he was one of the saddest people amongst them. It's funny how the sincerity of a person can change by how they're seen. 

As he looked down while he rested on my shoulder, I felt him shuffle in his place. "Hm? Is something wrong, Flavio?" I inquired. 

"What's...this?" he asked aloud as he picked up a piece of paper. 

"Y"

Another letter? What does it mean?

L...Y...

Flavio handed the piece of paper to me. "...Hey, (Name)?"

"Yes, Flavio?"

"Do you think we'll ever get out of here alive?"

I looked away. "I...can't say. Sometimes I feel like we're getting answers...but as every answer gets handed to us...it feels as if even more questions arise to the point that I can't find our way anymore."

"I can't say that I don't feel the same way, either, hon." He sighed. "Why...does everything have to be so difficult? Why do we always have to feel so helpless? Why...can't this world just...give us a chance..?"

We quietly sat down for a good while. Flavio had some sobbing fits every now and then. I just sat there and said nothing. 

A good nothing. 

Different people deal with grief in different ways. Some may want someone to hear them, to speak to them...but others may just want your presence. 

Sometimes, even just your presence is enough. 

I've always believed that words are the answer, but the lack of it answers just as much. I'm glad that Flavio told me about how he felt. 

Feeling the weight on my shoulder get heavier, I noticed that Flavio ended up crying himself to sleep. I began to contemplate on what I should do about all of this. 

There's just so many people, so many emotions...so many...difficult things to deal with here.. I don't even know where to start...or how I would end all of this. 

We keep going loop after loop, but I feel like we aren't even making any progress for a long while now. I just wish I could find the key already. 

"Here." 

A small hand was open right in front of me, with a fittingly small, silver key. The little girl in the red dress was crouching down and gave a grin. 

"...You.."

She tilted her head. "Don't want it?" she asked as she was about to pull her hand away. 

"--Wait!" I suddenly raised my voice, which caused Flavio to shift his sleeping position. I covered my mouth and looked at my younger self. I don't think it would be good for Flavio to see this.

Hastily, I grabbed the key from my younger self. In a hushed voice, I asked, "...What's this key for..? And what are you doing here..?" 

"...It's not for the front door, sorry." She apologized, dusting off her dress as she stood up. "You wished for a key, you got one. It's just that...not all answers we wish for are what we want...but it is what we need." 

"I...don't understand." I frowned. It feels like even more questions just arose instead of getting an answer. I studied the silver key. It feels...familiar. 

Her small, soft hand went to pat the top of my head. "You'll understand in time." 

Before I could look up, she disappeared once again. At least she left quietly. I mean, it would take a hella long time to explain to Flavio about how the younger me in the mansion keeps popping out of nowhere and leaves cryptic messages that would somehow help us here in the mansion. 

"(Name)?"

"Flavio?"

"...What was that all about?"

Dammit. 

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

//Kuro's PoV//

~

"I vowed to be strong...but here I am, powerless to set us free from this nightmare. We thought that this plan was to trap the First Players, but here we are, trapped along with them instead."

Isn't funny?

I laughed.

And laughed.

"This is pathetic!" I shouted as I thrashed my surroundings. "What are we? Are we still Second Players? If (Name) said that we could be more than who we thought we were... If we can actually be someone...our own self....and not anyone else.......how..? Who are we? Who could we be?"

Do we even deserve it?

After all the bloodshed, after all the destruction?

Is the world really that forgiving?

I don't know.

I don't know!

This mansion distorted even our own morals, our principles, our....our meaning..

No...this mansion didn't do that.

She did.

That girl believed in us when everyone called us living lies.

But...it won't be enough, (Name).

You can't just solve everything with just words. Words aren't enough for an answer to all our problems. But, maybe...

"Oh?~ You seem to be catching on to the key."

The unknown voice alone sent chills to my spine.

I tried my best to remain calm. "Who are--" Before I could turn to see the other person, I felt my body become paralyzed.

"Don't turn around."

~

As if this damned mansion can't get enough fucked up. I could sense a really strong presence behind me...strong...and full of despair. They give off a personality as if they're superior to us, but in reality, I could feel the sadness and misery laced into their words.

"What do you want?" I asked. Clearly, if the true mastermind of this fiasco chose to show up, it means they need something from you. 

I heard a faint chuckle. "It seems I was right about choosing you for this." 

"For what?" I tried my best not turn around. If I could get even the slightest hint as to who is responsible for all this, maybe we could get somewhere. Slowly, I tried to take a glance at the hand placed on my shoulder. 

The grip on my shoulder tightened. I could feel its aura turn murderous. Upon better judgment, I decided to give up on it, as I feel like it would just end up with me dead. 

Averting my eyes from their hand, their grip loosened. "You want to get out of here, right?"

"Yes." I gave a straightforward answer. Who would not want to leave in this deranged place? We've all had enough. If we want to restore our honor, we'll settle this...somewhere far from here. 

"Give me the girl and you can all go."

Before I could even respond or react, the strange presence disappeared. 

All of us could finally get to leave this mansion...but at the cost of losing (Name)?

How does any of this add up? 

If we stay in this crumbling mansion any further, I feel like all of us would go insane. 

Taking a handkerchief from my pocket, I tore it apart to make bandages for my fists. Feeling the weight of it all, and the new issue at hand...my legs gave up and caused me to slump down on the floor. 

What value does one girl have that amounts to the lives of all of us here? There's over twenty of us that could be saved if we gave (Name) up. How would she feel if she ever found out about this...?

I closed my eyes.

I'm sorry, (Name).

=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=

//Allen's PoV//

"Is it really okay, Al?"

"I've waited for you for years, I can wait for you again, no matter how long it would take. Just, take care of yourself, 'kay, (Name)"

"Thanks, Al. I will."

"I'll be right back, okay, Al?"

"Sure thing, doll. I'll be right here waiting for you."

And at that, she disappeared right before me.

Little did either of us know that there was someone watching over us two behind the shadows.

~~~

"Alright," I spoke coldly, without even having to turn around. "Just come out already, I know you're there."

"'Come on now, Allen."

I rolled my eyes. Turning around, I spoke, "For that last time, old man. It's Al, not Alle--"

The scenery before me changed.

From the mansion's dreary and eroding interiors, to a cozy, pastel-colored abode. The old, dusty hallway turned into a small dining area that emanated a faint, sweet smell.

A British man with strawberry blond hair smiled back at me. "Oh hush hush. Come over here and sit down. I'm almost done preparing your breakfast!~"

"....What..?"

What the hell is this?

A loud yawn was heard. "It's like 7 AM, old man. I don't want to eat this earl--"

"We're having bacon, eggs, and pancakes with loooots of maple syrup, Matthieu~"

The Canadian sat down. "Say no more."

Typical.

The sizzle of the bacon on the pan was melodious in my ears. Being in the mansion for countless loops over, bacon, eggs and, pancakes sounded a lot more heavenly than our usual riceballs and beer diet.

Placing the perfectly cooked bacon on our plates, Oliver gestured me to sit down, as well. "Now, now, we won't eat until Allen joins us."

Matthieu, who was in the middle of turning maple syrup into soup on his plate, shot me a glare. "You fucker, you better sit the fuck down right now!"

"Matthieu! Language!" Oliver pouted and reached for the swear jar behind him. "Swear jar. Pay up, mister."

The Canadian rolled his eyes, but placed in two dollars. "Whatever." Pointing at me, he shouted. "Get over here already!"

I couldn't help but laugh. Why the hell not?

Merely sitting down felt surreal. It felt like sitting on a cloud. Inspecting the food, just in case it contain any poison or anything, I eyed each piece carefully. They look legit to me. Scary, but seems safe.

Giving up on it, I forked a strip of bacon and chowed down. "Yolo."

Fuck, I could cry. It feels like it's been centuries since I ate real food like this.

Chuckling, Oliver lightly pat my back. "My, my. Someone's got an incredible appetite this morning."

"Went all out on last night's baseball game, eh?" Matthieu commented in between munching pancakes. "Your pansy game was okay, but I'd still watch hockey, though."

"How dare you call baseball for pansies. You wanna fucking go??!" I exclaimed, standing up at the thought.

Wait. Baseball game? Me?

I slowly sat down. "Hey, what do you mean I played at a baseball game last night?"

"Before anything else--swear jar." Oliver waved his index finger in disbelief. "One dollar, please."

"Wh--I don't have a dollar..." I told him with an exasperated voice.

Oliver crossed his arms and spoke in a sing-song voice, "We're not gonna answer, 'til you give a dollar~"

"Yeaaaah~ Hahaha!" The Canadian agreed, teasing me, as well. "Don't do the crime if you can do the time, boi."

Wait.

Oliver began clearing the table. "This was a fun breakfast." he laughed. "I'm so glad that our days are finally like this."

Wait.

"What do you mean...?" I asked, trying to find answers in his eyes.

Heading towards the sink, Oliver responded. "No swear jar dollar, no answer, young man~"

"I'M SERIOUS, OLIVER."

A wave of silence spread over the room.

"I've had enough. What is this all about? What happened to the mansion? Where are the others? What.." I began blurting out questions. This peaceful setting was all too surreal.

It was Oliver's time to raise an eyebrow. "Allen..? I know it has been over a year, but..."

"A year? Since what?"

"Since we got out of the mansion."