"Bullshit!" Romano yells, glaring at Italy. "Why does it have to be you?! You're fucking kidding me!" Italy looks hesitant, making a gesture with his hand.

"Th-that's why I'm saying I should be with Germany..." He looks to his friend.

"Wait!" Germany stiffens. "You've got to be kidding me! I object!" Prussia raises a brow at you, questioning what's happening.

"I think it's about sleeping arrangements..." you mutter, watching it play out. Japan sighs, watching the westerners argue.

"I'm telling you, mine is open." Frances coos, sending a wink Italy's way. Germany and Romano bristle. "I would give Italy a warm welcome - physically speaking."

"Maybe we should pair up with our... family?" Canada says hesitantly, before remembering his childhood. America fidgeted in his sleep, and France didn't value personal space. "Oh, but if it's to be together all the time--"

"Come on, now, we're all grown men. Whoever is fine!" England throws his hands up.

"If anyone's fine, you go with France then!" America says. The expression on England's face is pure horror as he gasps, placing a hand on his chest.

"I object!" He shouts, and his brows slowly lower. "If it were a... sister, then I'd be only a little reluctant, but with a brother..." Britains expression morphs into a look of repulsion, eyeing America.

"Eeew!" America shouts, shivering. "That would be torture! It's just too weird!"

"Ah, (F/n)!" France grins, slinking over to your side. "You may not be a sister, but I wouldn't mind sharing a bed with you." You look up at him as he drapes his arms over your shoulders.

"As if I'd let you do that, Frog!" Britain yells, clenching his fist.

"But it's not really your decision, now, is it, Black Sheep of Europe?" England begins muttering under his breath. You force a smile, incredibly uncomfortable, as the two start bickering. You look over to Spain, who taps his chin in thought.

"Well, I could do with just a blanket." He shrugs, looking at Romano. "I could lay it over the table and sleep there." He grins, proud of himself. "It'd make a perfect cot!"

"The West-made beds are pretty comfortable." Prussia mumbles, rubbing his chin.

"Wouldn't it be better if the smaller ones sleep together? Like Japan and China..." Russia wondered off, looking down at China.

"Who the hell are you calling small?!" He shouts, before following Russia's line of sight. "Huh? What are you looking at-Where are you looking at?" His eyes widen. "What exactly are you calling small?!" Russia gives a smile, clasping his hands in front of him as he gives a small chuckle, tilting his head. China jumps, eyes the widest they'd ever be. "Don't you smile at me, you piece of shit! I can prove you wrong anytime!"

"Did China just offer to show his dick to Russia?" Prussia mutters to you. You stifle a laugh, gently swatting his arm.

"All right, all right!" Germany raises his hands, his brow bunching in frustration. "Tomorrow I'll make more beds first thing in the morning! Can't you endure this at least for one night?!" Everyone begins muttering again, and Germany shakes his head. "Verdamnte scheiße!"

"Oh! Then, can I have a double bed?" Italy grins, cupping his hands together. "Romano, let's sleep together! It's been ages since I last saw you!" Romano scrunches up his nose, crossing his arms before nodding his head some-what reluctantly.

"Oh, how unusual of you to give in, Romano." France cocks a brow, giving a low hum. Then Italy hums in thought.

"But today you must be tired, so I'll sleep with Germany." Italy decides himself, tapping his chin. "This way you can have a bed all for yourself!" Italy snaps his fingers at his quick thinking. "Ah, but Spain--"

"Wait a minute!" Germany snaps out of his thoughts and looks at him. "Why do I have to sleep with you?!"

"What are you going to do?" Canada looks down to you. You shrug, thinning your lips.

"I'll wait to see what everyone else is doing." Prussia looks down at you, picturing it in his head. Would you be okay with sharing a bed with anyone? You did share a bed with Japan last night. Maybe you wanted to change it up. Maybe you could sleep with... him? He can feel his face heat up at the thought as he bashes it away. He can't think of that! And what if you ended up with someone else?!

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor." Japan raises one of his hands. "If I lay down a blanket, it'll be just like a futon..."

"Can't we all just sleep on the floor?" Prussia points out.

"Alright then, it's settled!" America grins. "Let's just go to sleep already! England, I'll take care of the beds, so lend me a hand!"

"Huh?" Britain cocks a brow. "Wait, I got it, I got it, so stop pulling me!" England frowns at him, being dragged over to the beds. America just laughs, marching over.

【 D4y 3, 1# S4f3R00m, Curr3n7 Tim3 700p - 4v4l14bl3 F1r5t Pl4y3r5, V1kt0r & (F/n)】

It had been maybe two or three hours since anyone spoke last. You fell asleep, only a small nap, before you woke and stared at the ceiling. Your hands twich on your stomach.  You could hear the odd snore, the shuffling of bodies every now and then, but other than that, no signal of conscious life. You purse your lips, willing yourself to get up. But you didn't want to. You know if you're found up, doing what you plan to do, things could go sideways. England had warned you. Everyone had been majorly hinting at it - but you still wanted to.

You frown, slowly shuffling out of the covers. You look around, keeping your ears perked up for any noise. You pull on your socks and begin making your way over to the kitchen. You reach the fridge, pushing your thumb into the plastic seal and pulling gently, stopping the suction. You pull out some sandwiches. Squinting at them, wondering whether to pick up more. You rush back over to your bag, stuffing the abundance of food into it and then pad your way over to the wall. The wall that has Viktor against it. You inhale deeply, preparing yourself and making a quick plan.

So... I'll just think things. I'll think such odd thoughts that if he can read my mind, he'll have to respond. Or give a tell that he heard/saw it. Right, okay. I got this. I got this!

You nod to yourself, tightening your grip on your bag before you kneel down before Viktor. The man is daunting. He is really broad, a bulking figure. His head is leant back against the wall as shallow breaths leave him. His skin is equally as pale as Prussia's, except the slight coloured tint he has. His scars are more profound than any you've seen before. You remember Luciano had some across his jaw, tiny little slits in the skin, Lutz had thick bulging ones up his arm and a scar over his cheek. Even Andres had one over his lip; as if he had a lip piercing and someone pulled it out. You cringe, before clearing your throat properly.

"Viktor." You speak softly, nudging his shoulder. You freeze, realising your mistake.

I should never be allowed to run experiments. I need to see if me communicating with him makes him able to read my mind. But now I've crossed it with physical contact ! Argh! Idiot!

The body shifts, a low hum being your response. "Hi." You greet softly, sitting down on the floor. "I'm the..."

Whore.

"I'm (F/n)." You introduce. He moves his head, looking in your direction. It is silent for a moment. You think your thought. There is no response. "I have some food. Would you like it?" He tenses, but other than that there is no response. You frown.

Is he being difficult on purpose?

"You do realise that if you don't eat, you'll starve." You tell him quietly, unwrapping the food.

"Go back." He speaks, finally, and you frown at him. His voice has no accent now.

You sneaky... he was pretending to not understand English! He was collecting information. There's not even a sign of a Russian accent!

"You're eating food." You tell him, slowly feeling the agitation crawling up on you.

"I can't use my hands." He shrugs his shoulders in emphasis.

Well, I can't untie you. I'm not that thick.

"I'll feed you." You shrug, almost as if stating the obvious. Viktor grunts, sounding indignant. "I'll take this off." You reach forward, hooking your finger around the fabric. You remove it, and he scrunches his left eye tightly. You suck in a breath, unsure. He looks down first, staring at the floor. His lashes flutter, and you watch him almost expectantly.

Oh, god. I can't deal anymore. 

You look back at him, his steely gaze on you. His eyes are grey, flecks of silver speckled around. You give a timid smile, before thinking your thought. Thinking your bizarre thought - which would be extremely unwelcome in any other situation - and he widens his eyes. It's ever so slight, it flashing with something before he looks down at the floor.

--but I know you won't: to us, I mean.

You finish. You give him a soft smile, trying to appeal to him - trying to appeal to his better nature. He would be scared to know that you know that stuff about him. Anyone would be scared if a total stranger knows your life story.

I'm... gonna feed you now. Okay?

He frowns at you, almost subtle and seemingly his usual expression. Maybe he just doesn't like sandwiches.

It's ham. I hope that's okay.

He nods in reply. You relax at that. It's useful not having to talk, the lazy half of you couldn't be asked for the effort and the fact you're less likely to wake everyone up.

Reading minds is useful.

You hold up the sandwich, hovering it near his face before faltering.

Ah, this is... ahhhh, no. I'm feeding someone. No. Ahhh.

You put it in front of his mouth, and he scowls at you before biting it. You make a small noise, before carrying on and moving it. He doesn't seem very happy with the predicament, but it's not like you pictured your first time feeding someone to be a burly Russian man who is tied to a chair.

Do you want a drink?

He looks at you over his sandwich, blinking slowly. You arch a brow, questioning. And then he nods. You give him another bite before you go over to the sink, filling up a cup. You trot back over, before kneeling and cupping his chin.

Make a noise when you want me to stop.

He peers at you over the cup, looking down at your hand on his chin before putting his lips around the rim. His chin is prickly. You tip it back, guiding him along the way. You smile once it's done.

"You are a strange human." He furrows his brow at you.

Thank you.

You beam back. "Very strange." He adds, eyeing you over. You hum in reply, offering him another bite of food. "They won't take kindly to you feeding me."

"That's under the assumption they find out." You reply coyly, grinning. He raises his brows at you, slightly surprised. You chuckle, before raising the sandwich again. "Still hungry?" You question.

I should probably try and see if I can get through to Oliver.

"Who is Viktor and Oliver?" He questions lowly, a face of disinterest. You smile at him.

Why ask a question with such a controversial face? This guy is exactly how I pictured him.

You suppress your laughter.

"You are aware you can't filter out your thoughts," Viktor says dryly. You flush, tensing.

Oh, right. Sorry. That was... Rude.

Viktor frowns at you again before adjusting his position. He is quiet, looking off around the room.

Viktor is your name.

He peers at you; lips pulled into a firm line. You hold the sandwich in your lap.

I'm not from this universe. I'm pretty sure, anyway. You guys - I mean the personifications of countries and what not - don't exist where I'm from. You guys are a TV show in... my plane of existence? My multiverse? Like Spiderverse, yeah?

You sneak a look at him. He doesn't show any signs of disagreeing or agreeing with your thoughts. You continue.

And the counterparts - you - are in the show. Well, the manga.

"You are an otaku?" He asks, sceptical.

No.

You think bitterly. Why does everyone assume you're an otaku?

I just enjoy the show... that sounds like something an otaku would say. And, is 2p!Russia even in it? There are the designs for the--Anyway, that's how I know about you. And all of your human names.

You shrug. You then begin wrapping up the food again, not looking up at him.

"Oh, right." You look up a bashful smile on your face. "Oliver is England. 2p!England." He nods slowly at that. You get the feeling he thinks your crazy. His face practically screams it.

I'm gonna go check on him now. And hopefully the rest of them, if they're there.

You nod at him, hoping for a response. Viktor just looks away from you. You get up to move, packing the food away.

"Blindfold." He almost whispers. You look at him in confusion, brows furrowed. "You should put my blindfold back on."

"Oh, right." You pick it up. You excuse yourself as you wrap it back around his head, holding three fingers under the cloth as you tied it up.

Don't want it to be too tight.

You smile at your handy word, looking him over. Then your eyes get distracted. Many people portrayed this guy as a brunet, maybe with a splash of red, but his hair has the odd white hair in it. He's the oldest looking out of everyone, around 40 or so. His hair is still brunet but faded from age. You wonder why he is the only old appearing country. And why his body decided to stop ageing so late compared to the others. You hum, pulling your bag over your shoulder. You send one long look to the beds, swallowing. You are going to do something dumb. Dumber than usual. So stupid it is almost incomprehensible. You're breaking the number one rule in any horror movie.

【 D4y 3, 2# S4f3R00m, Curr3n7 Tim3 700p - 2p!Axis, Fl4v10, 4ndr3s, Xi40, 4773n, M477hi3u, Fr4nc0i5, 07iv3r & Gi773n】

Everyone in the room jostles to life, immediately alert. Someone just knocked on the door.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Allen spits, looking over at Luciano. "I thought this room was meant to be safe?!" Luciano gives a small growl under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his face tightly bunched up.

"Are always this stupid?" He mutters in disbelief.

"The fuck was th--"

"Monsters don't knock, Dipshit." Matthieu interrupts his brother's eloquent language before approaching the door. He holds his hockey stick tightly in his hand; brows screwed up in concentration as he puts his hand on the door handle. He opens it slowly, a weapon hidden behind the door.

"Oh, hi..." Silence befalls the room. "Food delivery?" 

"I don't care who it is, let them in." Lutz practically sprints to the door, eager. Food would be a blessing right about now. "Oh, shit." He chuckles, opening the door wider as Matthieu takes a step back.

"Hi." You stare up at the giant man. He isn't as tall as Viktor or Russia, or even Matthieu beside him, but his shoulders are broad, giving off the impression that he's large. 2p!Germany. He leans on the open doorframe with a hand, the other running through his hair. "Um, I have some stuff for you guys. If you want it." Lutz scoops the bag from your hands, and you recoil at his fast pace as he practically pats your head, hand engulfing your skull before guiding you into the room. By your head.

It might take me some time to get used to the manhandling of these people.

"You came back." Luciano scowls. You look over at him, raising an eyebrow in a 'duh' expression. He crosses his arms, sneering at you.

"It's so nice to see you again." Flavio rushes over, placing his hands on your shoulders and gives quick kisses to your cheeks. You stumble over yourself, face heating up as you look at him.

"Hi, Flavio." You smile softly. "Um, you hungry?" You look over to the kitchen where Lutz is pulling things out, Oliver going to open up the cupboard. Oliver lets out a surprised squeak, the door falling off. You watch, eyes squinting. "You alright there, Oliver?" You call, watching him unsurely. He fumbles, quickly hiding it behind his back. He forces a smile, waving at you with pink cheeks.

"Everything is fine!" Your face fails to hide your amusement. You rub your nose, trying to cover the smile and look away. But in directing your gaze, you now look at Luciano. You eye him, pursing your lips. You feel the need to make a snappy comment at him.

"Kitten, I'm liking the outfit change!" Xiao throws himself into your vision. You feel yourself get hot at that, looking down at your outfit. Sure, you were wearing a lazy outfit. But you couldn't wear anything else! You're damn leg was enabling you from the rest of your wardrobe.

"Thanks, I guess." Your face hurts as you awkwardly smile, rubbing your elbow. Then you direct your gaze to his eye. Him and China have matching injuries. You gesture at your own eye, a sympathetic look on your face. Maybe you could spare some more pain killers for him. "Hey, what happened with your--"

"(F/n), why are you walking around like that?" Flavio butts in, placing a hand on his hips as he judges you.

"Well, I kind of got into an accident." You laugh, looking away bashfully. "Can't put jeans on, so I grabbed this instead." You add a shrug. Why did they have to make an emphasis on your clothes? You are embarrassed enough as it is. "So, Flavio, how's life been?" You question awkwardly. He chuckles, sensing your hick-up.

"Here and there. Met Paris Hilton, went to Fred Perry." He waves his hand dismissively. "Normal Tuesday. And you?"

"Oh, I just went for a small visit to the Museum of Natural history, a little stop at Tiffany's." You grin. Flavio chuckles, causing you to smile up at him.

Pretty sure Flavio is my favourite.

You continue to chat away, Xiao whizzing away to help Lutz harrass Oliver. They keep picking up sandwiches as he's plating them up, causing the Brit to go red. He is going in circles/

"Do you want to go help Oliver?" You ask Flavio. He scrunches up his nose, looking over.

"I'd rather not."

"Oh, okay." Your expression drops.

"South, come here." Luciano beckons him over. Flavio crosses his arms, turning away from his brother. Luciano scowls. "Come here!"

"I'm not responding to that name. My name is Flavio Vargas! Not South." You give a soft laugh at that. Flavio shoots you a wink at that.

"I am not calling you tha--" Their argument begins, so you walk over to Oliver, whose dealing with the leery hands of the 2p!BTT.

"(F/n), tell him it doesn't matter." Allen points at you. You stop, bunching up your brow.

"What doesn't matter?" You tilt your head.

"If it's on a plate!"

"You're not getting crumbs everywhere!" Oliver scolds, forcing a plate into his field of view. You deadpan at them. Xiao grabs a sandwich while Allen and Lutz distract Oliver, before scampering away with a pleased grin on his face. "Xiao, how dare you!" Oliver fumes, cheeks puffing up.

"Ollie, it's fine." You approach him, smiling calmly. Oliver turns to you, Lutz and Allen quickly taking advantage. The ginger frowns. "He's just really hungry. Once he's done, if there's any mess, make him clear it up." You reason, shrugging your shoulders.

"But he won't clear it up." Oliver looks to the floor, brooding cutely. "And then it'll just be another job for me!"

"Hey, I'm sure he won't make a mess." You reason unsurely.

"I sure hope so." Oliver mumbles, pursing his lips.

"I'll go give these out for you." You say, laying the plates out and placing two sandwiches on each.

"Oh, don't worry, Poppet. I'll do it." Oliver waves his hand dismissively. You purse your lips, before giving a confident smile.

"No." You tell him firmly, placing a hand on his forearm as he reaches out to take some plates. "You will be taking a single plate for yourself and sitting down." You tell him, before flashing a quick smile. "If they do create a mess later and refuse to clear up, I want you to have one less job for you."

I hope I haven't crossed any lines.

Oliver returns the smile, taking the plate bashfully.

"If you have any trouble, just say. It won't be a bother." Oliver adds before dropping into the seat beside Allen. He looks so petite next to him. You giggle, before turning back to the plates. You balance out three plates and begin making your rounds. You place the first three down with Andres, Francois and Matthieu. The first two only give you a look, acknowledging your existence, and not even bothering to make a move towards the food. At least one of them is a gentleman.

"Thanks." Mathieu takes the plate before you put it down on the arm of the chair. You look at him in surprise, blinking.

"No, no problem." You stammer. You straighten out yourself up, walking rigidly back to the kitchen. You hear both North American boys chuckle, and you flush even further. It's just that you didn't expect him to say anything! You huff, picking up some more plates. You approach Kuro and Luciano, the two having a quiet discussion. You hover with their dishes, waiting for a pause.

"Where do you want me to put your food?"

"Anywhere." Luciano brushes you off, scowling in your direction. Kuro takes the plate from you, including his head.

At least Kuro has manners! Luciano is such a prick. I should just leave his food on the floor; he said anywhere!

You put his food on the coffee table instead, opting not to aggravate the Italian. But you could have! It would have been funny, and a giant fuck-you to Luciano. You give the third to Flavio.

"Come sit with me." He pats the space next to him, between himself and Andres.

"I have one more plate left." You decline, before looking around. You spot Lutz, eating his own sandwich. He looks like he got caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar when you make eye contact with him. "Lutz, wher--" you catch sight of Gillen on the floor, curled up with his back against the wall. "Nevermind." You go over and grab the last plate, making a b-line to him. "Yo." You give a small wave, and Gillen sits up straight. He looks at you anxiously. "I've got food." You hold the plate out. He shuffles, bringing his hands out from the crease of his knee.

I've been wanting to talk with him since he hid my whereabouts the first night. Plus, I have an obvious soft spot for him. Gillen tries so hard, fighting with his mental illness, looking after his brother, and a boat load of PTSD on top of being handicapped. He needs all the support he can get.

"Danke." His voice is croaky, his eyes focused on the plate as he takes it. You blink owlishly, lips parted.

"So it's selective." You state, looking him over. Gillen stares blankly before his face heats up, mouth moving but no words come out. Just a croak which he quickly tries to cover up. "It's okay. It's okay." You laugh, smiling brightly. "It was nice to hear you." You chuckle softly. "Even though it was, like, two syllables." Gillen gives a helpless expression, cheeks bright red now. "Can I sit down?" You ask, pointing to the floor beside him. He looks at you, mopey, before hesitantly nodding. You sit beside him, enough room to plant your hands either side before you watch him lift the sandwich hesitantly. "It's just a simple BLT. I hope that's okay." You say softly, voice falling. Sitting down there, away from everyone else; it feels different. The atmosphere solemn. It makes you want to keep it down, even though you can hear the others. Like a library. Gillen looks at you, slowly chewing. His cape is still over his shoulders, and now you notice his right hand.

How did I not see it?! Oh my gosh, Gillen is so cool!

His right hand- arm! No, maybe even all the way to his shoulder is a mechanical limb. It's shiny, perhaps titanium, and looks awesome! You try not to stare, but Gillen notices and shifts uncomfortable, now trying not to look at you. You knew you saw something glint under his cape!

"Sorry." You apologise. He looks at you again, now finishing up his crust. "And, thank you." You whisper, now feeling embarrassed. "When you... Back on the first day. By the chair, mochi room?" You mumble, bringing your knees closer to your chest. You stare at them, not wanting to look at him. "I wasn't ready to face... Whatever I thought would happen. I'm really glad you did that." You peek at him. He has lowered his hands, contemplating. "That night..." You take a deep breath. "I had a nightmare. It, it really shook me. I... Was really scared. Heck, I am now." You laugh half-heartedly. "That's probably why I was so... Eh, not prepared." You look at him, smiling. He appears so innocent, cheeks bulging from the sandwich he had continued to chomp down on. Like a hamster. 

"So, really, truly, thank you for that. It may have not been a big deal to you, but it was for me." You then hop up, grinning and holding a finger up as you remember. You grab your bag from the kitchen counter, before bringing it back as your hand shuffles though it. You crouch down beside him again, and he watches you curiously. You grin as you pull something out. "I... Wanna give you this." You hold out a small cloth. "It's a thank you gift." He lifts his hand, taking it tentatively. "So, there's been like a ton of glasses cases here, with those polish material in them. Since you helped me out I've kind of been picking them up for you. I don't know if they're actually any good but I just remember from somewhere that you like keeping your arm shiny." You rock yourself back and forth. "I hope it makes you happy. I haven't done that yet today." Then you squint. "I think. What have I done today? So much has happened!" You huff, thinking. You then widen your eyes in realisation. "Also, your name." You laugh at your own foolishness. "Gillen, Gillen Beilschmidt."

Gillen watches as you fiddle with you bag, fingers itching for something to do. You went out of your way to do something. You ran away from their counterparts to feed them all - the enemy. He didn't understand. They had kidnapped you, so why were you here now? He then sees the tight expression you have. You seem genuine, and too kind. You gave them all food. And now you've given him a present. The people that don't deserve redemption, the villains in history, are being checked up on a human. A mortal human that is trying their hardest to be good. Gillen lowers his plate, swallow as he goes through his pockets. He pulls open a chocolate bar, snapping a piece off. He holds it out to you, eyes big. You smile, leaning forward and taking it. There's more to you than you let on. Gillen wanted to know what that was.

"Oh." You say softly. "You sure?" He nods. "Thank you." You giggle, taking it tentatively. "Oh, if I find some polish, do you want me to give it to you?" You say, inspecting the chocolate before popping it in your mouth. Gillen furrows his brow, lips thinning. He looked kind of irritated before he begins signing.

[I haven't done that since we got here.] He sighs. [I'd be very thankful if you did.] You purse your lips. Gillen then fumbles, expression frazzled. [Can you read this?]

"Yeah... Ish." You furrow your brows, staring at his hands, trying to remember. "My... Eh." You laugh, looking at him with a hint of confusion. "A polish? Yeah, like the surface cleaner stuff, did you say?" You tilt your head. He nods in reply. "Right, polish. I'll remember that for next time." You stand up and walk in front of Allen and Mathieu. "I have some beer if you want any." You hold out two bottles. Allen grins, jutting an eyebrow at you.

"I took some earlier, but I'll gladly take some more." Allen takes them from you. You huff, rolling your eyes.

"Of course." You look down at your bag. You did wonder why it is so light. "Oh." You snap your fingers, now speaking to Matthieu. "Would you be able to accompany me to the ground floor?" You ask.

"Accompany? Why ya' speaking so fancy for? Just say 'take' like a normal person." Allen tells you. You sigh yet again.

"Why do you want to go to the first floor?" Kuro asks pensively. You hum, watching him from the corner of your eye. You hadn't expected him to speak up. Before you can reply, Francois speaks over you.

"Don't bother lying." He states. You give a small scowl, pursing your lips. You then look down at your feet. They already know you know about this place, that you're from another world.

"As this is a game, and I'm a player, I have access to a machine that gives me items in trade for points." You nod firmly at your words. Francios scowls at you, sussing you out as he takes a long drag from his cigerette. You drop your shoulders. "I need those items to keep HP and mana up, so I need more as I just handed out half of my stock."

"Are we able to access this machine?" Luciano asks. You turn to face him, twisting your lips.

"Not to my knowledge." You shake your head. Japan could, but you've practically taken his place as the interactive character. Luciano doesn't say anything, just watches you with a questioning stare, leaning his head back. You huff, adjusting your bag as you shuffle. "Look, are you going to help me or not?" You tighten your grip on your bag. "I'll go down there on my own if not."

"Germany, Japan, take them." Luciano speaks up, finally, eyeing you. You give a small smile in his direction. "This is just returning the favour for the food. I don't know how you knew, but we are running low on food." He crosses his arms over his chest, leveling his gaze. "I can't have you dying. We need you to get us that key." Your expression falls at that. 

Why can't he let people think he's good? Or maybe he is just a manipulative asshole.

So, you leave the safe room with Lutz and Kuro, the duo standing on either side. The halls are empty and quiet. The board's creek upon the weight, but there are no signs of the monsters. You sense eyes on you and turn to see Kuro watching at you.

"So..." He begins, resting his hand on the handle of his katana. "I've been told you're a weeb."

【 D4y 3, 1# 54f3R00m, Curr3n7 Tim3 700p - 4v41l4bl3 F1r5t Pl4y3r5, V1kt0r & (F/n)】

"Are you feeling better now?" Britain asks as you take the final sip of tea. You smile, giving a small thanks as he sits beside you on the bench. You had brought more items from the toilet downstairs and left the boys outside their saferoom, before legging it back to the first players. When you came back, you sat on the safe room stairs, rearranging your bag. It is heavy, and you needed something for the pain. You have some ibrobruphin and water. What you really need is some coffee. You'd only slept when you passed out and maybe for three hours? Two hours tops. Britain later found you on the stairs. He had heard the door go but no one had come in. He looked frazzled but calmed upon seeing you. You then said 'it was a nightmare', and he instantly understood and offered you tea. And that's how you got in this situation. People had begun to wake, taking trips to the toilet as China and Italy start cooking. You sigh, cupping your hands around the mug. Britain raises a brow, looking at you expectantly. You remember he's asking a question.

"I'm... improving." You give a shaky laugh. "Thank you for asking."

"If you would like, you can speak to me about your dreams?" He encourages, shuffling in his seat opposite you.

"I'm, I'll be fine." You muster a smile.

"Yes, while that may be true-" Britain gives you a once over "-but my offer will always stand." He inclines his head.

"Thanks." You bow your head, staring down at the contents of your cup.

"(F/n), (F/n)!" Italy comes over, holding the clock from the night before up. You perk up, no longer stewing. Almost no longer stewing. You couldn't help shake off this feeling. You feel ill, like a terrible cold. Or maybe you are ill. Or perhaps the lack of sleep...

"Yes, Italy?" You greet. He smiles wider, holding the clock out further. And that's when it goes wrong. His step is too big, too buoyant, and his shoelaces are undone. Italy trips and breaks the clock.