"So, who wants to read next?" Antonio asked, holding the book up as his elbow rested on the table. They'd been in the conference room for around an hour, and there was still a fair amount to get through. "Anyone, anyone at all?"

"Hai, I will." Japan offered. "It would be an honour."

Spain nodded and smiled, and passed the book to Kiku, who took it and carefully put it down. He looked to the next page and saw that it was another diary entry. It was an old one. The room was silently waiting, anxious about what Japan was skimming over. They watched his eyes flicker over the words and scan them. Was everything alright? Did he realise that he wasn't saying anything?

"Japan, is everything alright?" Italy asked. "If not, I can make some pasta! Pasta always helps~"

"Oh, sorry. I wanted to see how personal this was before sharing it. It is not mine, but I know that I would not want certain things shared without my consent." Kiku explained.

"Whose is it?" Canada asked.

"It is Spain's, this time. Am I OK to read it?"

"What year is it from?" Antonio cautiously asked.

In his head, he was screaming. 'Don't be from the sixteenth century, don't be from the seventeenth century, don't be about those damned days at sea! Please, God, do me this one favour!'

"It's from 1614-"

Antonio groaned and let his head smack against the solid wood table. Why did it have to be that one? Why, of all the things he'd written over the last countless centuries, had that one been chosen? Moreover, who'd read it and then made that decision?! There were some things he was nervous about having shared, and then there was that.

"Ow! Spain, why did you do that? I bet your head hurts now!" Feliciano said. "Ve, do you need some pasta too? It's not a problem if you do!~"

"I tell you what, Italy. How about you go and make some lunch for everyone?" England suggested, knowing that it would keep everyone happier. "If you head down two floors and to the right, the kitchen will be on your left."

"Okie dokie!" Feliciano beamed. He was excited to be allowed to cook, and was already thinking of several dishes he could cook that all contained the key ingredient: pasta! "I'll get to work right away!"

And then there were ten. Spain was still resting his head against the table, and England seemed to have become a bit more... On edge. France's gaze flickered between the two and he was starting to get an idea of what may be on that page. Though, he kind of hoped it wasn't actually what he was picturing, because otherwise someone needed to slap an '18+' rating on that book ASAP and lock it away as securely as possible before throwing it into the sea.

"Should I continue?" Japan questioned, feeling slightly uneasy by the other nation's reaction to the date he'd supplied.

"By all means." Antonio mumbled into the wood before he sat up again and looked dully at everyone. "I swear to God though, if anyone says anything, I will not hesitate to introduce my axe to your neck. Understood?"

A chorus of nods and 'yes's filled the room, and Antonio let his head drop back to its position on the table. He didn't want to hear what was to be read. He already knew what was there, word for word. Some things just never leave you. England leant back in his seat and gently bit the inside corner of his mouth. This was going to be interesting.

"Spain. May 26th, 1614. Long time, no-"

"Sorry for interrupting, but I just want to quickly apologise for any and all the vulgarities in this one. Caught me at a bad era." Antonio quickly muttered, before flopping back down again. He waved a hand and signalled for Japan to continue. Kiku decided to pass the book onto someone else, however, and this new nation began to read instead.

"Long time, no see... I wish I could say the damn same to that bastard."

'Why isn't Japan reading?' Spain asked himself. 'Unless he's very good at mimicking an Italian accent, I'd say that Lov- Oh... Well... Mierda...'

"Well, both of them, actually. If there's anyone I would want to rip my sword through as slowly as possible, it would be them. I suppose I didn't tell you what happened all those weeks ago, amigo. Makes sense. I couldn't even fucking walk for how ever many days after."

As he read, Lovino occasionally glanced up to see if Antonio was reacting in any sort of way, but he was disappointed each time. The Spaniard was motionless and silent, expect for the gentle breathing and rise of his body as he did so. He was desperate to know what Spain was referring to in this entry, but at the same time, he wasn't. He didn't want to know, because it was private. It felt invasive.

"Brothers are supposed to be there for you, right? I've seen firsthand the bond between brothers and how powerful it is, no matter the distance. Lovi and Feli manage... So why can't I? My fucking brother hates me enough to attack me in such a way, and he even brought along a bastard friend to join in. I'm fairly sure that's not how family reunions are meant to go."

'Dios mío, I really sound like Lovi... It doesn't help that he's reading it, either...'

"It's been almost thirty years since I've seen that prick. Why did he have to be there? It could've been so much simpler and less painful, I might add. I hope Karma is cooking up a great big fucking storm. I'll be there when it hits... And I'll be the one to watch their blood spill."

Antonio sat up and ruffled his hair, looking as though he'd just woken up from a nap. He had nothing to say. At least, nothing he could say without it leading to a lot more problems. Folding his arms, he sat back in his seat and waited for someone - anyone - to say something and break the formidable silence. It was always one thing he could never stand.

"Alguien, mátame por favor..." he sighed. "You can continue to the next entry now, Lovino."

"That was a bit fucking ambiguous."

"Romano, I literally just asked you to continue reading. How was that ambi-"

"Not that, the damn entry, you bastard!" Lovino said, slamming the book down on the table. He glared at Antonio, who simply stared back with a subtle warning. "What the hell was that about, huh?! What exactly happened?!"

"You've read the entry. That's all you need to know." Spain said. He didn't want to explain. It was hardly an easy and beautiful thing to describe. "I suggest you continue to the next page, or give the book to someone else who will."

"What the fuck-!"

"Romano-san, please. I can take the book. If there are things that need discussing, they will come out when the time is right." Kiku said. "Some things cannot be forced."

It took a few more seconds of glaring for Lovino to give in, heavily sigh, and pass the book back to Japan. Everything in the room settled again, and he was completely baffled at how relaxed Antonio had become. He was smiling at Japan! Where had all that anger just gone?! Romano was determined to get to the bottom of this, and he didn't care how long it took. Spain was hiding something, and it clearly involved Portugal and England.

"Alright, this next one is about the... Awesome Trio?" Kiku said, unsure of what that was referring to. "I'm sorry, but... What is the Awesome Trio?" he asked the room.

"Ohh, that's just the name that Prussia, Denmark and I like to use in reference to our super-awesome, undeniably strong and totally cool friendship!" America beamed. "I mean, how can the three awesomest dudes in the world have a friendship that's any less awesome than they are?!"

"Hai, thank you, America-san." Japan said with a slight nod. "This one is just an observation. Nice and short."

"Awwwwwesoooooooome!" Alfred quietly screamed to himself. He loved his awesome bros, and right now, he wished they were with him.

"The Awesome Trio. Alone, America, Denmark and Prussia are respectively intelligent, strong and fearless. Together, they are nothing more than immature adults who like to mess around, get drunk, and have some fun. Word of warning: keep them away from the beer! It won't end well for anyone around them!"

Alfred instantly burst out laughing. "I-I swear to God, that's as accurate as it gets! Whoever wrote that hit the nail on the head, holy crap!" he said. "Man, I wish my dudes were here..."

"I did invite Gilbert, like always," Ludwig told him, "but he said he'd rather stay back in Berlin. I'm sure he'd be saying the same, though." he smiled.

Behind a screen elsewhere in London, Gilbert was smiling away to himself, commending himself for his awesomeness. He could've written a lot more, but he didn't want anyone to work out who'd composed a lot of the observations for fear that they wouldn't take it so seriously. He couldn't bear that happening. Taking a quick swig from a beer bottle sat on the desk, he continued to watch. He hadn't spoken to Peter yet; both had remained fairly silent except the odd laugh or sigh. When the countries took a break — something that would be necessary soon — Gilbert decided he would talk to Sealand properly.

Back in the conference room, things had become silent once more. Kiku looked at the next entry and upon seeing how long it was and the connotations of that, he pushed the item away from him slightly.

"I think we should take a break." he suggested. "Does anyone have a way to mark the page?"

"Here, you can use this." Ludwig said, placing his work case on the table and retrieving a small piece of blank paper. "That should be sufficient."

"Arigato."

Japan took the paper and placed it into the book before closing it. Germany said that they would have a fifteen minute break, so that everyone had time to settle down and he would arrange some refreshments for when they came back. And so, everyone got up from their seats and stretched their legs, talking among themselves. Those yet to have an entry read were growing increasingly nervous of what was to come, and those who'd already had things revealed were worried that more secrets would be spilt.

Gilbert let out a tired sigh. There was still so much more to go through in that book. They'd be there for days at the rate they were going, maybe even weeks! Listening to everything being read aloud wasn't easy, for him, Peter, or the nations in London, but one day maybe they'd all understand. Prussia could wait for them to all understand why they did it... Right? He heard a yawn through his earpiece.

"How you holding up, squirt?" he asked.

"I'm fine..." Peter replied fairly quietly. Gilbert didn't know if that was because he was tired too, signal was bad, or because he was unhappy. "Do you remember what entry was next?"

"Oh, ja. I know." Gilbert responded, having another swig of his drink. That entry was one of the harder ones to write up, but it had to be done. He knew that.

"Whose is it?"

"Canada's."

<><><>

A/N: Spain's entry is open for interpretation, btw. Nothing is set in stone for that... *questions France's imagination* Yet.

Anyway, hopefully I'll start updating more regularly~
^ಒ^